Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians. I make no profit from this work of fiction.

Special thanks to Bloody-Rozez, Seryyth, and snowing-in-the-spring-time – reviews are greatly appreciated!

Bloody-Rozez – That made me laugh. :) That is certainly an interesting coincidence. And I do hope the battle sequences live up to expectations!

Seryyth – Thanks! I aim to please. ;)

snowing-in-the-spring-time – I'm glad I'm succeeding with the accent. :) I'm trying not to go overboard with Bunny and North, not just with the accents, but also when including slang that would be a part of their speech.

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If Pitch had been irritated by the rapid defeat of his Nightmares, he was nothing short of livid by continuing to receive threats. His eyes became slits in response to the rabbit's unrelenting menace. The promise of harm did not hold the same hazard for a spirit as a mortal. One thing he did know was that his energy could be drawn out of him. He doubted any of the Guardians would be able to summon enough willful malice to damage him in the way he had Jack.

Though he had been unable to discover what precisely he had drawn from the ice wielder when it was taken from him in Annis' bower, the evil spirit could easily determine it after observing them. When his scythe had returned the witch's eyesight, he had felt the energy flow out of him. It had been a disappointing sensation, one which he had no desire to repeat. Seeing the winter guardian surrounded by his comrades in such a protective manner confirmed his suspicions about just what he had stolen from the mischief maker.

"I wonder." His drawl sounded from several directions at once as he drew the shadows up to cover his form. Despite not thinking that any one of them had the will to destroy his existence, being outnumbered made him prudent. Watching them turn about as they tried to locate him was certainly an entertaining past time. His amusement was cut short by the intervention of the blind guardian.

"Enough!" Jack's voice carried over the wind that had begun blowing as he raised his staff. White hair ruffled by the gusts of wind swirling the snow about them, anger constricted the skin surrounding his unseeing eyes. The shepherd's crook glowed brightly, the eerie cyan light lending a creepy blue hue to the white powder surrounding the group. Lowering his arm swiftly, the butt of the ice wielder's wooden weapon slammed into the frozen earth, displacing the snow. The wave from the point of contact rolled outward, the snow seemingly being pushed out by the cracks shattering the underlying ice.

Toothiana hovered above the group, her hummingbird wings buzzing rapidly as she focused her eyes on the spot where the shadows seemed to retreat into the trees. Their rapid withdrawal revealed the nightmare king as the vibrations from the force of Jack's blow knocked him from his feet. A glittering golden rope attached itself to his ankle, dragging him towards the group. Dissolving once he was deposited at their feet, the evil spirit growled as he tried to rise from the ground only to find North's sabre poised under his chin. The light of terror shone in his eyes for a brief moment as he felt the sharpness of the ethereal blade. Focusing once more on the youngest guardian, he pushed his own trepidation from his mind.

"It's so much easier, isn't it, Jack, when you don't know what it's like for them to stop believing." The anger that had twisted the ice wielder's face so grotesquely quickly dissipated, leaving doubt in its place. "It's so much simpler when you don't have to fight to keep them convinced you're real." His eyes flashed with triumph as the staff lowered, the crook nearly falling to the ground. "Think about it, Jack. They don't believe in you because you're a guardian." Pushing himself back slowly from the cossack sword, the dark spirit edged away from the group. He watched them closely, noting the Russian's attention being diverted to the pained look covering his comrade's face.

"They believe in you right now because it's still winter. What was it the boys called you again? Ice King?" The youngest guardian's face was hidden from him, the shadows cast from the light emanating from the still glowing staff enough to camouflage his features. "Why do you think they're so willing to believe in you now when they didn't for three centuries?" Digging his fingers into the powdery snow, he pulled himself back a bit more. His eyes were fixed on Bunnymund's face, noting the hare's increased despair as a furred paw landed lightly on the hunched shoulders. Even the fairy's wings slowed as his words seemed to affect the youngest of their group.

"Jamie grew up, Jack. All children do. And when they do, they stop believing. It will always be like this." The blade that had threatened him slipped down a bit, the distance the final element he needed to extricate himself from the precarious position in which he had found himself. Standing once more, he dusted the rapidly melting snow from his black garment. Taking gentle steps backward, he moved slowly in an attempt to avoid catching their attention.

"Children only believe in you now because of her, Jack."

Without looking up, the ice wielder swung the staff in an arc so that the crook once more pointed towards the sky. As the end struck the ground sharply once again, Pitch tumbled back into the snow, his foot having been raised when the shockwave of energy spread from the nexus of the white haired spirit's attack. Lifting his head as he started to rise once more, he found his progress impeded by the hook of Jack's staff.

His gaze following the line along the shaft of the winter spirit's weapon, the evil spirit found himself staring into the darkest visage he could recall since Sanderson had humiliated him in Burgess those many years before. The habitually mischievous eyes glowed with unparalleled anger as they glared down at him. It appeared that despite his attempts to undermine any conviction that may have been rekindled by his recent battle with Annis, Pitch had failed miserably in the endeavor to sway the young spirit.

"Despite whatever you may say, the fact remains that they do believe."

"They won't always."

"Maybe not. Right now, that's not what's important."

Tilting his head to one side, Pitch narrowed his eyes at the unseeing orbs staring down so maliciously. "And just why isn't it, Jack?"

"If the only reason they believe in me is because they feel threatened, then the best thing I can do for them is to take away that threat." Leaning down, the ice wielder allowed his pale locks to fall into his eyes, the shadows they created in the glow from the shepherd's crook giving him a more menacing appearance than the king of nightmares had thought was possible for such a fun-loving individual. Using the sound of Pitch's labored breathing in order to slide the curve of the staff under the dark being's chin, the youngest guardian lifted the elder spirit's chin at a painful angle. "Give me back my eyesight, Pitch."

"I would, if I could." His voice was strained as the weapon pushed roughly against his windpipe. "But someone else is using it just now." Faded golden eyes tinged in shadowy silver became impossibly large at the sound of the growl to his right. Large three-toed paws displaced the powdery snow that had fallen to the ground. Leather bands wrapped tightly about the feet darkened as the precipitation melted and soaked into them. The cold flat wood of the boomerang against his face forced his head to turn to the side.

"Who?"

Glancing about at the dark gazes fixed on him, the nightmare king had the distinct impression that hedging was not his best option. Locking his eyes with the narrowed golden orbs glittering threateningly at him, his voice was a mere whisper of breath when he responded.

"Annis."

Her hunger had finally abated after the fifth child whose eyes she had watched empty of all emotion. She nearly felt gorged on the essences of so many mortals after having been famished for so many years. Even when she had felt the final barrier to her freedom fade just as the spring had begun to heat in preparation for summer, when she had emerged from her bower for the first time after Easter Monday had passed, she had never considered that she might be able to feel sated.

As dawn approached, she called the wind to her. For the first time since her egress from the cavern she had known as home for hundreds of years, the cave she had carved from the rock with her own talons, the breeze was sluggish to respond to her summons. Though it did eventually acknowledge her beckoning, she wondered at the delay. Any concern about the lack of reaction abandoned her as she realized she may have waited too long to venture back to her home. The gust that wrapped about her allayed her fears as it swiftly bore her to the only shelter she had accepted as her abode.

Nearing the hillside that heralded her arrival, the wind deposited her gently on the icy ground, taking its leave of her swiftly. Her surprise at finding that the darkened area was not void of mortals manifested itself in a cackle that reverberated from the rocky crags of the land. She relished their quickened breathing, distinctly visible in the cold as the hot exhalations became refrigerated in the icy air. The two boys glanced up from where they had been poking about. She presumed they were trying to find the entrance to her cave, something no mortal child had ever attempted.

"What is it you call this? When the food comes to you?" Her vocal musings caused the two boys to shudder, the scent of their trepidation wafting to her on the slight breeze blowing over the landscape. "Oh, yes." She leaned forward as she reached the edge of the river bank under which they had tried to hide themselves when they had heard her approaching. "Delivery."

Her wrinkled hand darted forward from the rock on which she had placed it, claws snagging the shirt of the closest child. A smile alighted her face as she recognized her luck in grabbing the younger of the two first. High-pitched laughter filled the air, her joy in the child's fear causing her to be less closeted than she normally constrained herself to be.

"Conall!"

The other boy was attempting to climb to the top of the outcropping, the jagged edges of the rocks cutting into his hands. Smelling his blood peppering the atmosphere, she closed her eyes in anticipation. Slitting them open, she began to siphon the soul from the boy in her grasp, her nearly intoxicated state evident in the sluggish pull of his essence into her mouth.

"Leave him be, you witch!"

Her chuckles in response to the other boy's angry shouts were cut short by the blow which struck her skull. Dropping the child whose soul she had not been able to finish consuming, his body tumbled down to the river. The ice covering the waterway would certainly break his fall. She mused that she would be able to find him when she had finished with the pesty older boy who insisted on monopolizing her attention. Turning to face the source of the attack, she was surprised to find herself staring at the glittering golden form of the sand man.

Her lip curled upward in a snarl as she launched herself at him, her anger overrode her better judgment. Blowing a fistful of dream sand in her face, Sandy had assumed that she would be rendered unconscious. Even the Guardians themselves were susceptible to his abilities. His surprise when she continued to charge him through the dust cloud was palpable.

"It takes more than that, you old goat!" Annis' claws would have connected with his body if the dream weaver were not composed of sand. His brow furrowed in confusion, he backed away from her quickly.

The twinkling spirit was not the only one shocked by developments in the evil witch's presence. Jack had not noticed immediately, as when they had emerged from the magical portal North had opened from the location Pitch had been willing to share to prevent any permanent damage to his being, his vision had still been absent. The moment her hand had released its grip on the child, however, smoky images began to swim in front of him. Blinking reflexively, he hoped to clear the murky quality, but the action was ineffective.

The other boy's scream caught his attention, and he sailed over to his side. The wind, for once, appeared to be a physical entity to him. For the first time in the centuries that he had been hitching rides with the element, he could actually see the updrafts. Using them to make his way rapidly to the boy, Jack did not even have time to ask him the reason for him fear. When he had seen the ice wielder approaching, the boy had extended his arm, pointing in the direction of the falling body.

Following the downdrafts, the youngest guardian soared towards the younger boy. His rapid descent allowed him to catch up to the child. Knowing they were too close to the river's surface to stop their freefall, the ice wielder concentrated his energy, making a hole in the solid sheet of frozen precipitation directly beneath the boy. Plunging into the stagnant river, the young form displaced the chill liquid. The frigid water hardened as it splashed up and connected with the remaining glacial layer from which he had drawn the winter energy into himself.

Chasing the body into the ice-cold canal, Jack dove beneath the surface, swimming downward until the hook of his staff was able to cleanly capture the unconscious boy. He made his way back to the hole which was quickly attempting to seal itself over in the wintry weather. Breaking the river's surface, the white haired spirit hauled the child from the water, using the wind to deposit them both some distance from the altercation with Annis that remained in progress as he rolled the boy to his side. Finally able to see the child's face, murky as it was, the guardian gasped in surprise.

"Conall!" His breathy statement of the boy's identity was overridden by the shout from the other child. Glancing up, the ice wielder was barely able to make out the short form headed towards him before his vision faded completely. Closing his eyes tightly, he fought back the tears that were attempting to push past his lashes. Hearing the footfalls rushing towards him, Jack moved away from the wet child, allowing the others to approach the seemingly asleep form.

The fur that brushed past his arm let him know precisely who had been closest to the pair when they had emerged from the frozen water. Hearing the squish as Conall's soaked clothing connected with the lagomorph's fur, Jack was not entirely focused on the thump of the rabbit's foot as he created a tunnel.

"Piers, grab the ice king, will ya?" He could hear the smirk in Bunnymund's voice even as he felt the small hand slip into his chilled one.

"Go on! We will meet you there!" The Russian accent carried on the wind was all the impetus the fur-covered guardian needed before jumping into the earthen channel. The journey was swift, their arrival on the other side landing them in the boys' back yard. Frightened for the young form in his arms, the pooka ordered the older boy to run for help. Moments later, the heavy thump of older feet alerted the two guardians to the approach of an adult. Stepping back from the nearly frozen form, the hare wrapped an arm around the youngest guardian's shoulders, watching as the boys' mother attempted to revive her child.

The sound of the magical portal opening behind them drew their attention from the woman's actions. "Sandy! What happened?" Jack could clearly hear the sounds of the shifting sand. Not waiting for the dream weaver to finish, his voice was barely a whisper as he drew his arms about himself.

"She got away."

Tooth squealed, her hummingbird wings buzzing loudly behind the ice wielder as she landed. "You could see that?!"

Shaking his head sadly, the ice wielder let the tears finally drop from his eyes. "No."

"Oh."

Bunnymund drew his companion to him. "It's a'right, mate."

"You don't understand." Muffled as his voice was by the fur in which his face was buried, he was still comprehensible. "When I was there... When she was there... I could see."

Before the group could respond to the revelation, coughs and wheezes peppered the air, interspersed with the sounds of vomiting as water was expunged from the young lungs which had breathed it in. His organs emptied of the frigid liquid, Conall fell back against the grass. Piers landed roughly on his knees beside the younger boy.

"Thank god."

A weak smile graced his lips as Conall fought to open his eyes. "Hey, you know something?"

"No, what?" Piers had to lean in close to his brother's mouth in order to hear the brief comments he made.

"I'm awake."

Not caring that he was supposed to be tough, the older boy let tears stream down his face as he smiled at his sibling. "And you're breathing."