Disclaimer: I don't own Rise of the Guardians. I wish though, really. I also write slash, so we'll see where this goes.
A/N: Oh dear, I just found out that RoTG had a series of books published. Opps! That's what happens when I don't research enough, sorry.. That's also why I take so long to write and rewrite my fics. Oh well, just wanted to say that this story explores a completely different starting and interaction between the Man in the Moon and Pitch Black.
Thank you for reading and following! (: Reviews are always appreciated ;)
Alive once More.
Darkness, fast as lightning, knocked him off his feet as the clouds overhead cleared with unseen speed.
Even though he was falling onto people - well, technically, through them, onto the ground, Pitt could feel no pain aching through his frame. In place of the pain was shock, fresh and apparent on his face. The dagger in his hand had gone just as quickly as he had summoned it, vanishing into the darkness where it had materialized from. Flexing his fingers in disbelief, Pitt slowly raised himself up, and eyed his hand in fascination.
That was something else, he thought, clenching his right hand into a fist; only to unclench it having tried summoning the dark weapon again in vain.
Throwing a quick glance at the crowd still surrounding him, Pitt was surprised to feel an absence of the once tensed atmosphere. In its place was relief, clear as the night skies above them. Pitt detached himself from the mass of gathered villagers, wandering at an unhurried pace off to the side where he could better see the source of the distraction.
For a whole moment, Pitt couldn't comprehend the situation. He watched as a line of villagers trooped towards the building crowd with lethargic steps, their eyes tired but filled with satisfaction. As they marched on, Pitt finally noticed that this was the search party that had braved the mountains this evening, and how they had returned with little Annie, shaken but alright.
The crowd cheered as the little girl was finally returned to her mother's arms, and Pitt swiftly turned to walk away. Now that he no longer had reasons to linger around, he should probably leave to attend to what Moony had wanted him to see. Better now before he lost his temper again anyway, he reflected with a sigh. Little Annie was back, safe and sound in the protective arms of these villagers; at least that was one weight off his chest.
However, as though on cue, the sound of his own name caught his attention. It rooted him to the spot, and as unwilling as he felt, Pitt could not help but to turn around.
"... what of Pitt Black?" Someone managed in a quiet voice, but amongst the suddenly hushed crowd, it sounded clear as thunder. "Was he up there?"
The search party members gave each other a weird look, and one of them withdrew a piece of clothing slowly from his bag. Pitt leaned in unconsciously to take a better look. Even from a distance, he could see that it was rags of the jacket he had been wearing - torn, wet with melted snow, and stained with his blood.
The villages gathered around gave rude gasps of shock, exchanging horrified looks with one another.
"Bwears!" Little Annie cried out suddenly, her eyes tearing up as she caught sight of the rags.
"Bears?" A new wave of shock seemed to have crashed through the crowd. "Bears in the mountains?"
Even little Annie's mother seemed to be shaken once more. As she held the little girl tighter in her arms, she threw a frightened glance at her husband, who had been standing just behind her. The crowd seemed to not know where to place their eyes, and they all started looking down at their fetes.
"And Pitt Black? What happened to him?"
The terrified looks she was getting seemed to be frightening little Annie, because all she could manage in a small voice was, "He shouted.. And I ran.."
An air of uncomfortable awkwardness settled onto the crowd, and in unison, they glanced at the mountain far away as though they were trying to imagine what had happened. Pitt, too, turned to face the distant summit, and he could almost see the scene replaying before his eyes. When he finally blinked the visions away, he was taken aback again by the moisture clinging to his lashes.
Now, the story had been set straight. Pitt didn't know if he should feel sad, or relieved. All he did know was that it was time for him to finally leave. However, he couldn't go without one last lingering look, which eventually brought his sad, golden eyes to focus on little Annie. Surprise prompt him to take a step back when he noticed how the little girl had caught his gaze and was staring straight at him with wide eyes, but Pitt waved it off by telling himself it was just a coincidence. After all, the rest of the villagers could not see him, so why should she?
So why, why was it that he couldn't take his eyes off her equally surprised stare?
As he took another uncertain step back, the little girl leapt into action. Wriggling out of her mother's embrace, she dashed straight for Pitt's paralyzed form, shouting "Pitch!" at the top of her voice.
"Pitch?" The adults around her echoed, but made no move to stop the little girl. Vaguely, Pitt figured they were either too taken aback, like he was, or simply didn't know how they could react.
When the little girl finally bumped into him, she had her arms outstretched as though she had intended to hug him; but owing to their great difference in height, she could only cling onto his left leg. The sudden contact made Pitch tremble, but it was not unpleasant; in fact, the happiness he felt welling up inside him was so strong it was threatening to explode from his chest.
He had expected her to just dash straight through him, so the feeling of the little girl's weight against his leg cheered him up more than he could ever hope for. Pitt found himself kneeling down on his right knee while trying his best not to move his other leg. As his right hand sank into the snow-covered ground for support, he was finally able to bring his face closer to hers, and she turned her head to catch his eyes once more.
"Pitch!" Little Annie cried out again, delight clear in her crystalline voice.
"You.. You can see.. Me?"
She nodded in excitement, reaching out a hand as though she wanted to hold his face.
"By 'Pitch'.. You mean, me?" He asked again, guessing the little girl could not pronounce his name right. Pitt closed his eyes with a gentle chuckle as her warm palm touched his cool skin.
Laughing, little Annie gave another nod, and rubbed her hand in a circular motion on his cheeks. The contact felt sweet and good, and for an instant, Pitt thought he could almost forget how lonely and isolated not being seen felt.
When the pair of them finally stopped chuckling, Pitt raised his head and shot a nervous glance at the crowd.. While they were distracted, the villagers had finally started to gather around little Annie. Since they couldn't see him, all they would be able to see was Little Annie floating a little above ground with a hand reached out, Pitt assumed. He would definitely agree on how weird an image that was.
So he did what he could. Nuzzling into the little's warm hand one last time, Pitt gently detached her from himself, and set her on the snow in front of him.
"Thank you," he whispered, ruffing her hair long golden hair with a trembling hand before pointing at her parents, standing worriedly behind her. "Go on, Now.."
"Thank yew too," she laughed again before picking herself up, and dashing away towards her parents.
The crowd around them sighed in relief and hurried away in unison, as though they didn't want to be part of anything weird and unexplainable anymore. Pitt stood up slowly, keeping his head down while dusting the snow off his robes as he gave another soft sigh. Maybe only children could see him. Maybe only little Annie could. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.
He didn't know if he was prepared to find out.
When he looked up to glance at his surroundings again, Pitt was surprised to see that little Annie's parents were still standing where they were a moment before. The young girl had fallen asleep in her father's arms, and the man himself looked like he wanted nothing but to run away from the place; however, the mother was holding them both on the spot, her eyes unfocused, her lips pursed in a thin, shaky line.
She thew a look through Pitt's frame as though she was trying her best to see him, but sighed when she couldn't.
"I'm sorry," she finally said, looking down at her feet. Rooted on the spot, Pitt found that he could not react to this apology. All he could do was to stare, wide eye, at her embarrassed gaze, trying to guess her emotions, trying to understand.
"I'm sorry.. And thank you, Pitt.. Well, Pitch, Black."
With that, she gave her husband a nod without glancing at him. Just as Pitt thought she was going to just leave, she raised her head suddenly, and threw one last sweeping look at the bonfire clearing. The stricken, immaterial male barely managed to catch her passing gaze; but for the briefest moment, he thought he saw a sparkle of fresh tears welled up in her eyes.
The sharp breath he had finally managed to inhale was caught heavily at his throat, and Pitt had to look away.
Before Pitt could react, the couple had joined hands, only to turn and walk away together as a family.
Long after little Annie's family had left him, long after he finally managed to find his way back to his little hut, Pitt's mind remained at clearing, stuck on the vision of silvery tears he had caught sight on the woman's face.
Her eyes had been sparkling with gratefulness, riddled with confusion and guilt.
The puzzling part for Pitt was how he could understand exactly how the woman, a mother, felt. And how he wished he could speak out to her, to tell her she didn't need to weigh the guilt of his death on herself. And on top of all of that, Pitt hadn't known he was capable of feeling so much in a day, much less considering the fact that he was supposed to be dead.
Settled comfortably onto a pile of snow outside of his hut, Pitt leaned his head back with a lethargic smile, and raised his eyes to gaze at the moon. The robe of darkness he donned provided him with unexpected warmth that seemed to radiate inwards without affecting the snow on the surface of it. It seemed to extend the warmth to his legs as well, which really helped, since he didn't have any footwear on.
All these dramatic turn of events, all in a night's work. Pitt looked up at the suddenly silent moon, and sighed.
"Is this what you brought me back for?" He couldn't help but to question once again. "Did you intend for this, Moony?"
For once the moon was not dying to answer his question. Instead, he remained silent, just watching him as though he was waiting for Pitt to figure it all out for himself.
"And if I'm not alive.." Pitt continued after a minute of peaceful silence, unshaken by the moon's lack of reply. "What sort of a.. A being, am I to be considered as?" The question made Pitt frown in deep concentration, his brows furrowing with dissatisfaction.
"A ghost? A shadow.." Recalling how it felt as the villagers passed through his frame, Pitt shuddered and looked down at his right hand. The feeling of trying to tap a man on his shoulder only to end up swiping through it felt horrible, but at least now he knew he could still be seen and touched by some. "A phantom, maybe.. Or wait, A.. Spirit!" Pitt almost exclaimed, knowing he had found the right word for his state. "A spirit.." He repeated, excitement almost flushing a pale pink across his cheeks.
Overhead, the moon seemed to chuckle, throwing a soft beam of moonlight across his chest, where his slackened, crossed arms lay.
"A spirit, eh.." Pitt reached out a hand, scooping at the beam even though he knew he could not catch it. He watched as the beam shifted, as through trying to avoid his grasp; then, it shone upon the snow beside where he lay, lighting up a square frame as the moon tried drawing pictures with shadows.
Shifting to lay on his side, Pitt watched the moving shadows in Moony's light theater as his finger doodling shadows in the snow. Moony's moving images flirted from rough shapes to defined silhouettes, like towering figures of bears, and baring fangs of wolves; or a distorted, wide-mouth smile, or simply a pair of eternally pitch dark eyes, staring straight into him and never wavering a single bit.
"Fear," Pitt realized after Moony have had that pair of dark eyes glare at him twice. "Fear, in the form of.. Nightmares! Moony.. You.. You chose me to.. You want me, to drive away these fears?"
The glaring eyes blinked shut, and for a moment the beam of light was perfectly clear. Then, the shadows morphed gently into little silhouettes of children joined hand in hand in a circle. Pitt watched as the little shadowy kids danced around in the white moon beam with little smiles on their faces. A tall figure soon emerged from behind the circle, but the children did not break their dance; instead, they kept pace while adding the tall figure to their formation, and the tall figure looked up to stare straight at Pitt with stunning, but joy-filled silver eyes.
The image choked his breath in his throat, and Pitt abruptly threw himself onto his feet to stare up at the moon in disbelief.
"You want me to protect children?"
The moon almost giggled, shining its beam down at Pitt's face playfully. The spirit of darkness had to raise his hand to block the ray off his embarrassed features; even then, a gentle winter breeze blew across his cheeks, and elicited a quiet laugh from Pitt as the winds whispered yet again in his ears.
"A spirit guardian.." Pitt repeated, lowering his hand unconsciously as his mind raced through the possibilities he could see with his future. "Me, a spirit guardian? I guess this is what you sneakily plot for in your spare time huh, Moony?"
The beam of light dimmed before his eyes, and it was as if the moon was nodding to his words.
As ironic as it would sound, for the first time in the many years of his life, Pitt Black felt a real burning desire coursing through his frame. A need to fulfill this mission presented to him. Happiness was contagious; the feeling euphoria tore through him simply thinking about the powers he now held in his hands, and knowing all that he could do with it.
All the joy he knew he could bring..
Where to, now though? He heard the question in the back of his head, and briefly looked up at the moon as though the question had not been his own. But no doubt the moon shared the same question, because the moon beam lit a quick question mark before his eyes, and Pitt paused to look down at his flexing right hand.
"I practice," he answered with a soft voice, unclenching his fist to find a cloud of darkness sitting neatly in the middle of his palms. The winds around him darkened as they started picking up speed, and Pitt knew well it would take him wherever he wanted to go. It was time to leave his town behind.
"You can't have me running around untrained, can you?"
Sure you can, Pitt Black, he heard a twinkling laughter in the winter breeze as it brushed past his robes, reflecting his thoughts.
"No, not Pitt Black anymore," he sighed happily, correcting both Moony and himself; the spirit of darkness turned around, throwing one last look at the blazing bonfires left scattered over the little town he would eventually come to miss.
"It's Pitch Black now," he whispered longingly, closed his eyes, and let the shadowy winds take him away into a whole new world.