Hey! So... This is my first story! I know, really exciting. I promise it won't be horrible! Or I hope it won't be horrible... I don't think my writing is too bad, so... Anyway, this is a story I don't think you'd expect. Sorry to say, it only features two characters from the movie, Jack and Pitch. If I continue this story (Not sure if I will, depends on how many people actually like it), it will include the rest of the characters. Of course, it will always depend on the chapter...

Anyway! I can't say much about it. I sort of wrote it on a whim. I've had the idea for a while, but, you know... If you've seen the Black Swan, I am NOT basing this on the movie. I'm basing it off of some fairy tale or something I read somewhere. Yes, I made Black Swan look like how she does in the movie. No, this is not a crossover. They are different characters. This is one hundred percent ROTG. Nothing else. Get it? Got it? Good.

So, I guess... This is on with the story.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own ROTG. I wish I did, but, sadly, I don't I do own my OC, though... if you can't figure out who my OC is, I may just have to slap you. Now read on!

~*~*~*...*~*~*~

Jack Frost was just sitting at the lake. He was bored out of his mind – nothing new. He'd been flying around aimlessly for about a hundred years, making trouble when he could in the hopes of being noticed. Sadly, his attempts went by without luck. If somebody did notice him, they would just chase him away. He'd never forget the encounters, especially with the scars and bruises that covered every inch of visible skin.

Anyway, he was just sitting on his lake, staring out at the trees and twirling his staff around. He was debating whether to give a snow day to a few cities in California when a yell echoed through the woods. In seconds, he was in the air, flying as fast as he could to the source of the panicky sounds. Who cares if they can see him or not? He'll find some way to help them. He always does.

What he finds sends his heart reeling, fear shooting through his very soul. What he finds is a woman in a black dress with lips redder than blood standing over a man who seems to be wearing a cloak of shadows. He doesn't think. He just raises his staff and attacks.

~*~*~* just minutes before *~*~*~

The woods are cold. Ice and snow cover every last patch of earth, and the leaves of the trees are replaced with hundreds of tiny icicles. One is plucked from a random tree by a delicate and pale hand. Long block fingernails poke at it and bright red eyes examine it. The icicle drops to the ground as the hand lets go, and feet clad in black, lace-up slippers continue to dance through the snow, leaving no other trace of them being there.

Black Swan normally would never come to Burgess, let alone these woods and at this time of the year. But the spirit had heard of the boy who resides in these woods, and of the man who has begun to make his home here as well. She's knows that everyone in the town will be endangered if he succeeds and making this his place of residence, so she came here to stop him. No need to be asked. She's always been wonderful when it comes to helping others.

Soundlessly, Swan makes her way through the woods, the feathers running from her back and down her arms rustling in the Wind. They caress her, welcoming a longtime friend. She smiles at it, lifting her hand as if to touch it, and the element washes around her, holding her tighter. Swan had heard tales of the Winds having a special love for the boy winter, but she hadn't believed them. Here was the proof that all the tales were true. He had gained the favor of the four Winds.

Black Swan breaks free of the Wind with a promise of seeing it later and continues on her way. It takes no time at all to find the bed that marks the dwelling of the evil man of nightmares. Her eyes quickly scan the tunnel, and she concludes in seconds that the man is not home.

Slowly, the red eyes turn and scan the woods. They land on a particular spot in narrow. A hand reaches up and pulls of a feather, watching it turn razor sharp, as an arrow. She doesn't have time to do any more, for the man in question leaps from his hiding place with a screech intended to be a battle cry.

Swan grabs him and flips him on his back. He stares up at her, dumbstruck, and she can't help but grimace at how weak the man is. This man, who once wreaked havoc in every human and immortal soul. This man, who parents tell their children horror stories about to them to behave. This bogyman, who feeds and thrives off of fear. This man, so easily defeated. It's just sad, really.

He seems to regain his composure as he snarls up at the woman who knocked him to the ground. "What, you came here to stop me from making my home? Really, are you that afraid of me? I'm not strong enough to do anything yet. I just want a place to stay." He pleads in a snarky voice.

Black Swan really can't believe that he thinks he has the authority to speak to her in such ways. His clothes are tatters, his face is pale and covered in red gashes, there isn't a shadow in sight, and he's living under a bed, for goodness sakes!

She shakes her head pityingly. "I'm never going to take chances with you. You destroyed my family, Pitch, and you'll destroy every child you can get your hands on. Their Wonder, their Hope, their Dreams, their Memories... Anything you can destroy, you will." The woman says icily, evenly.

Pitch laughs in an almost maniacal way, eyes alight with insanity. "It's so strange that you would support the Guardians. What have they ever done for you? You speak of me destroying their centers... What about your center? Can I not destroy it, or are you too afraid to tell me what it is?"

The statement brings her pause. What can she say? If Swan is correct, she's figured out her center. She has to ask the Moon to be sure, of course, but after all these years, she might have actually figured it out. Yes, the reason she doesn't mention it is because she know Pitch will go and try to destroy it. She can't let him find out about it. Her center may just be more important than any other. Not only is it important to human children, it's important to adults and immortals as well. It's important for staying young and growing up. If Pitch destroyed it...

Black Swan is about to say something back when, out of nowhere, an icy wind hits her. She barely makes out the voice that yells over the now-roaring wind, "Let him go!" But she does hear it, and sadly, she knows who it must come from.

Swan crashes into a nearby tree with a yelp, collapsing in a heap to the ground. Groaning, she looks up to see the winter child kneeling over Pitch Black, who is now sitting up, eyes wide.

"Are you alright, sir?" Jack asks in a small but urgent voice. By the surprised look that comes over his face, he doesn't expect the man to respond back, let alone have the man grab his arm.

"That woman!" He yells manically, pointing a shaking finger towards Black Swan. "That woman attacked me! I don't know who she is, but she wanted to kill me, I'm sure of it! Make her go away, please!" He pleads with the poor boy.

Jack looks up at Black Swan with wide eyes, obviously not sure on how to react. Most likely, he'd never actually had to help people before. He was probably as invisible as Black Swan. Really, they were one in the same, but did he know that? Of course not. All he knew was what Pitch was telling him. Swan looks past him at the bogyman now sitting up on the ground, and he meets her gaze with a steady glare, an evil smile lighting up his face.

He's trying to turn Jack against me, Swan realizes. And it's working, too.

Jack slowly stands, pointing his staff at the woman in an almost unsure way. Now that he's part of the situation, he doesn't know what to do. Who is this woman, and why would she attach this innocent man? Black Swan rises as well, carefully pulling out a few more feathers so that she has five in each hand.

"Jack, please, this is none of your business. He's not who he says he is, and I'm not who you think I am." Black Swan says slowly, meeting Jacks eyes and trying to calm him. Apparently, this isn't the right move. He begins shaking and gets in a more defensive pose.

"Who are you? What's wrong with your eyes? They're... They're pure red! Like... Like blood!" He all but whimpers, shrinking into himself slightly.

Black Swan curses. Her eyes. Why hadn't she thought about them? She was created to look like a creation of evil, but was given a pure and kind heart, along with a very intelligent mind. With an appearance that differed greatly with who she was, she had to make many choices and discover who she really was, her identity. After years of hiding out on her own, she'd decided that she was good and wanted to help the Guardians. Sadly, that didn't change her exterior. She still looked evil.

"My name is Black Swan." She answered calmly, carefully. "And I know my eyes are scary. Everything about me looks scary, but I promise I'm not bad." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Pitch pulling himself away, towards his hole. "But he is." She growled before lunging for the wicked man.

Multiple things happened at once. Pitch Black turned around to fix Black Swan with wide, scared eyes. Black Swan got her feathers ready to throw. Jack Frost let out a piercing yell, and the next second, Swan found herself flying through the air and landing yards away on a lake.

She hit the ice hard. Something cracked, and looking down, Swan was glad to discover that it was just the ice. She's been blessed with abnormally strong bones that didn't break easily. She forced herself to her feet as Frost landed lightly on the light, holding up his staff and grinding his teeth together, ready for a fight.

Black Swan also got ready, pulling out new feathers and holding them up in a position to throw them. "Please, Jack, I don't want to hurt you." The woman pleaded, trying to put some sincerity on her face. "My fight isn't with you. It's with Pitch. Please, stay out of this."

Jack tried to put on his best brave face and set his feet on the ground. "You're hurting a defenseless man! You have no right to do such a thing! He's done nothing wrong! Now, leave this place before I get mad!" He yelled, trying to sound fierce, but his voice comes out more like scared.

"Jack, please," Swan begins, but Jack doesn't let her finish. Suddenly, her wing is completely iced over. She yelps in pain and stares at Frost with wide eyes. He seems just as surprised, looking back and forth between his staff and the woman.

"Look, I... I didn't mean to," He tries to apologize, but something in Black Swan seems to snap. If you ask her what happened, she'll honestly tell you she doesn't remember. He eyes just lit up in rage, and the next thing she knew, she was standing over Jack Frost. Feathers sticking out of his arms, legs and chest. Blood was dripping from his various wounds, ranging from a slice across his head, the various punctures from feathers, and a wound in his side that looks to be a mixture of both a stab and a slice.

Black Swan stares down at the mess with horror written on her face. "No..." She mutters, stepping away and shaking her head desperately. She thought she had stopped her sudden anger fits. She thought she'd gotten better, become a better person. But apparently she hadn't. She was just as bad as before... Who was she to think she could somehow be a Guardian? Who was she to think that she could discover her center and everything would be better? She was a villain. Didn't her looks say just that?

With a hand covering her mouth and tears streaking down her face, Black Swan takes off running in the other direction. After a few steps, her form changes, transforming into a beautiful black swan. Without looking back, the woman flies away. She still hasn't discovered her own identity. She thought she had, but it was obvious she was wrong. How could she be the Guardian of Identity if she didn't even know her own?

From the shadows, Pitch Black watches in evil glee as Black Swan takes off. He watches for a few minutes before turning and slinking back to his hide-away. It'd take at least a few decades for her to realize that he'd manipulated her, gotten into her mind and forced her to attack the Frost child. The child himself would never remember the black shadows surrounding the woman as she attacked her, leaving no mercy. He'd only remember her fiery eyes and black feathers that wrought so much pain upon his weak form. Pitch cackled evilly, savoring in the fear that he'd beaten from the Frost child, and the even tastier fear taken from the woman. To have a fear of yourself is one of the worst fears of all. She'd be a great source of snacking for years to come. Perhaps, with her, Pitch would be able to come out of the shadows within the next two hundred years or so...