A/N: I AM NOT DEAD. No seriously, my life has literally just been insane! I got back from the woods, was thrown into preparing for college, and then thrown into college itself! As of now I am taking a full load of classes, working a part time job for 15 hours a week, and doing homework until my eyeballs fall out. So far, I've kept an A in every class! My only breaks are food most of the time. That being said, writing will be rather sparse from me for a while, but I am NOT abandoning this story! It will be finished.
Moving on, HOLY CRAP GUYS! 38 REVIEWS! WAT?! You guys are absolutely amazing! So here's some shout outs to show how much I appreciate them!
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AND NOW WITHOUT FURTHER ADOOOOOOOOOOO, DA NEXT CHAPTER!
Disclaimer: Just in case you forgot, I don't own Rise of the Guardians :P
And for the first time since the day of his birth, Sandy felt a tingling at the base of his throat. He felt it swell within him, powerful and awe-inspiring. Felt it build up in his chest and fly from his mouth, a rich baritone yelling "OUT!"
And the black sands fled.
Within two seconds, Jökul's body stopped seizing and arched rigidly off the floor. He collapsed with a shudder; gold and black sand streaming from his mouth and nose. Torn from its host, the black sand was consumed by the golden in moments.
Sandy rushed towards the boy; his entire body trembling as he slid the sweat soaked head into his lap. The boy was shaking too. Sandy stroked the sprite's brow, trying to offer some small comfort while the others recovered and began to help. The boy's eyes opened, revealing the clearest shade of cerulean blue Sandy had ever seen.
Chapter 11: Of Waking and Dreaming
The moment she regained her sense, Seraphina stood and walked on shaking legs towards the Sandman and her child spirit. His chest lifted with a quivering gasp and a breathy whine slipped from his lips. Mother Nature unclasped her cloak and gently picked him up with it. He shuddered and leaned into the fabric woven by winter's chill, his head coming to rest in the crook of her shoulder.
"I'm here, Jack," she whispered. "I'm here and I will never let you go again."
He didn't answer, but the fluttering of blue eyes was enough of a confirmation for her.
The others seemed to come to their senses all at once, helping their grainy comrade to his feet and directing her up the staircase. She let them go ahead of her, preferring to take her time with the precious parcel wrapped up in her cloak. The boy didn't make a sound the whole way up, just breathed quietly and burrowed his head into her shoulder.
When she reached the top, the workshop was in utter silence. No tinkering with toys or tapping with hammers. Not even the rustling of fur clad feet. The yetis all stood in silence, watching their procession from the lowest basement with indiscernible expressions.
"What has happened?" Mother Nature asked, clutching her winter sprite more closely. She would not allow him to be taken from her, no matter what he had done under the influence of evil.
"My helpers have never heard such an event as vhat happen dis night. Dey heard voice of High One un deir hearts after vorkshop began to shake and dey say heard eet vas de time to be moving de mountains. Now dey vait for direction on vich stones to move first."
Tears pricked in the eyes of the Seasons' Mistress for the fifth time in her existence. The yetis were some of her forgotten creatures, yet even though nature herself had left them behind, their creator remembered them well. And their memory of Him and His ways were stronger in them than in her whom He placed His authority over the natural realm.
She knew if it were not for souls such as those faithful ones, the world would have been lost to them long ago. As it was, the world as they knew it could end in darkness if they were to fail.
Mother Nature blinked a few times to clear her vision and glanced down at the boy in her arms. He had gone silent long ago, his eyes closed and face completely lax. She shifted him slightly to get his attention but his head only lolled to the side.
"North," She whispered. "We need to get him resting."
Nicholas nodded and directed her to a room that had been prepared. Sandy floated beside her silently as she walked the halls of Santoff Clausen, face so filled with joy and tribulation it almost looked comical. Almost. When they reached the room, Sandy pulled the covers back from the bed and Nature sat down on the edge with the boy still nestled in her arms. His breathing had become ragged. Seraphina lifted him up and placed her ear against his chest. She listened for a moment before looking to her golden companion.
"His lungs are clogging," she said. Sandy only pressed his lips together and pat the unoccupied side of the bed. Mother Nature laid the boy down gently. He coughed and reached numbly towards her. She caught his hand before it fell, comforting him in any way she could, but when she tried to let go, his half lucid whimpers changed her mind. She took up a vigil beside him, comforting a spirit whose body was finally cold in all the right ways. She only wished he would open his eyes so she could see that cerulean blue once again.
A touch on her arm brought her back from her musings. The Sandman was looking at her with his kind, sleepy eyes. A question mark appeared above his head, followed closely by a large maple leaf and a little snowflake.
Nature smiled as warmly as she could manage. "It's a long story, my friend," she said and gave her sprite's hand another quick squeeze. His increasing lack of oxygen was beginning to make him fussy. "And not a very pretty one, I'm afraid."
Sandy just smiled again, as if encouraging her to continue. They had many hours of empty time to fill.
"You already know the majority of it, Sandy," she insisted. "Nothing but the insignificant details have I spared."
The little golden man shrugged and the room returned to silence. It was true that Seraphina had already divulged the shorter version of this child's story, but she had left out the many, many heart wrenching episodes of abuse and neglect in favor of a blanket affirmation that he had been tortured for many lifetimes over. In reality it had been so much more than that. She had watched Pitch break the moonchild down into nothing more than a dog on two legs. And there had been nothing she could do to stop it.
In order to quell wealth of emotions that threatened to steal away her iron gaze, Mother Nature spoke a few moments later.
"A great gift was given to you this night, Sanderson. Has the High One taken it back?"
Sandy shook his head and smiled widely. A chain of gold and a padlock appeared around his mouth only to be removed a few moments later. After the chains disappeared, the little man merely pressed his lops together and smiled with his eyes.
"Ah. So you have chosen silence. Do you ever intend to speak again?"
Sandy nodded and smiled brightly, but it dimmed a bit when a ragged breath from their charge broke their momentary joy. Great blessings had been given that night, and while to joy of their victories made them nearly glow with exuberance, their spirits were dampened by the tribulations yet to come. War was in their future and there was no way around it.
They spent the rest of their wait for North and the others in silence, each of them storing up the things that they had seen deep in their hearts and pondering them in those quiet moments. When North barged in with rosy cheeks and a robust vocal volume the two soldiers of light couldn't help but feel a little irritated by the intrusion. North, however, was supremely unaware of their sensitivities—or their sleeping charge.
Sandy shushed him good-naturedly with a finger to golden lips, but North only lowered his volume slightly.
"Man in Moon and Commander spoke anoder time! Dey give assurance dat boy vould be fine and start to give of de instructions. Half of yetis are vorking as ve are speaking to be making ze veapons and oder supplies. Oder half vork on toys for Christmas!"
Seraphina shook her head ever so slightly. Nicholas was very exuberant about the coming war, but she had far too many worries and reservations to yearn for chaos.
North would have continued to speak for far longer had the winter spirit's breathing not begun to quickly deteriorate. Father Christmas was at the boy's bedside in a flash, his burly hand resting with feather light pressure on the pale chest. Jack took a gasping breath and coughed in his sleep. It sounded tight and wheezing. North glanced at Mother Nature before returning his attention to the sprite.
"Did you be giving him de vater?" He asked.
"No," Mother Nature replied. "We just put him in bed and his lungs started clogging up."
"Sandy, do you know vhat it is?" The big man asked.
The Guardian of Dreams shrugged his shoulders and cast a handful of sand towards the boy to help keep him stable and calm. It swirled around his head for a moment before morphing into a simple dream of a boy skipping stones across a forest pond. It was nothing fancy, but it was peaceful and it was through that peace that Sandy finally was able to take his rest.
"Never be minding," North determined. "Ve fix so he breathe 'gain."
"How?" Tooth asked, feathers ruffling as she hovered above the winter sprite in the bed. A few of her minis were flitting around her, sneaking peeks at the white haired boy and trying to fly just close enough to see his teeth. If they were even half as white as his hair they would be beautiful!
"Is very simple. Bout fifty years ago, vhen yeti start to be using de synthetic stuffings in de teddy bears, dey begin to have troubled bringing in de breath. So I build couple of neboolizzerz to be a help for yeti to cough up de stuffings!"
"'Ang on, North, ya built what now to un-stuff yer furry helpers?" Bunny asked.
"A neb-oo-lee-zear."
"Can't understand that, mate. Jus' get it fer the kid befer e' gets inta real trouble 'ere." His green eyes were flickering nervously between all the occupants of the room. They all looked as worried as he did.
North returned a few minutes later with a surprisingly small machine. They had been expecting an iron lung and this little device was only a little longer than an alarm clock radio. It took only a few minutes to set it up, load in the albuterol to break up the clogging, and turn it on. The motor began cranking out a white vaporized medicine. Mother Nature lifted her frost child up and leaned him against the headboard. He scrunched his nose in sleepy discomfort, but that was the only reaction when they strapped the mask over his mouth. His shallow breaths began to puff out the gas in short pumps.
Nothing seemed to change for nearly five minutes, but when the medicine finally made its way into the furthest reaches of his lungs, they heard an audible release of air and with it the release of their anxiety. But a few moments after that, his blue eyes flickered open in semi consciousness and be began to hack up great quantities of greyish sludge.
He coughed for quite some time, dropping and rising between consciousness and sleep, hacking up the milky ooze. They started him with two breathing treatments twenty minutes apart then moved him to an hours reprieve between albuterol doses until his breathing began to relax and regulate in sleep. In all, he had coughed up ten milliliters of the 'substance'. They determined that he must have inhaled some of the back vomit during the seizure.
Sandy kept the boy dreaming for a full two days after his lungs were clean, unwilling to make him face the harsh reality of what he had survived so close to his rescue. Only when he started to fight the sand instead of taking it and dreaming deeply and contentedly did Sandy cut back on the doses and allow him to wake. When the boy finally opened his eyes, Seraphina was the first person he saw. She smiled at him lightly and took his hand, silently begging for him to recognize her. He focused on her for a few minutes, regarding her with silent confusion before tears filled his eyes and spindly arms reached out towards her.
Mother Nature pulled her Jack into her arms and held him close, comforting him as the memories of all he had endured came flooding back. He clung to her as well, letting her run her fingers through his white hair and dry his tears. She was so tall and he was so small it looked like she was cradling a young child instead of an immortal teen.
She didn't speak and neither did he, but they were comfortable that way and remained in the same fashion for some time. Only when the other Guardians began to slowly trickle in to see him did she release her hold on him. Sandy came in first and smiled so reassuringly that Jack couldn't help but peek out and smile back tentatively. Taking that smile as a sign to continue, Sandy practically exploded into a myriad of dream creations. Golden dolphins nuzzled the boy's neck while schools of guppies and flounders swam around the room in short, nervous bursts of energy. Even manta rays floated lazily near the floorboards. Jack laughed suddenly when a particularly gutsy dolphin nudged him on the back and skittered away with a happy squeak. It returned a few moments later, inching forward until long, pale fingers reached out and touched it on the head. It squeaked again and called its companions over before offering Jack its dorsal fin. It wanted to take him for a ride!
Jack laughed again—hoarsely and pitifully for one who looked so young and free—and reached for the golden offering. But he was far too weak to make it off the bed, and though the dream creation looked a little disappointed, it seemed to understand. It gave Jack's cheek another nuzzle before turning back and rejoining its pod. Jack chuckled again wearily and settled back against his protector to watch the rest of the show. It continued on for five more minutes—the normal duration of any nightly dream—but just as a night dream always seems so much longer while asleep, so this day dream seemed to live on and on through the magic of the Giver of Dreams. When it ended in a poof of dust, Jack couldn't help but look a little disappointed. But his interest was quickly diverted elsewhere when Bunnymund limped into the room.
The boy watched with curious apprehension, unsure of the origins of his feelings but unable to find the will to care. He couldn't remember most of what had happened to him past his last attempt at gaining freedom. Only a terrible pain in his hands and feet and an ashen hand forcing living powder down his nose and throat before nothingness took hold. And the only things that broke up that nothingness were battles and fights, hours of utter darkness and voices that whispered in his head.
But there were no battles now, and not only had the voices gone silent, they had left him completely. He felt strangely empty, but it was not an unwelcome sensation because it was not a lonely one. He had a protector, and there was safety in her arms among these new and strange creatures. Enough safety for the boy to reach out and take the paw that the creature had outstretched towards him. It was soft and covered in fur. His pale, blue veined hands looked quite small in comparison.
A wide, toothy grin split the creature's face and he introduced himself as E. Aster Bunnymund. Jack returned the smile. But their introduction was short lived, as the two remaining guardians joined them moments after. They went about their work quietly, sending him smiles and introducing themselves to him one at a time, so as to not overwhelm him.
Tooth did her best to settle herself into a relatively easy pace, her attempts aided by the ripping in her paper-thin wings. She couldn't fly nearly as fast as usual until they healed. Jack vaguely wondered what could have happened to cause her so much pain. But he didn't dwell for long on the suffering of the bird lady on account of the tray of food that North placed in front of him, sagging under the weight of its burden.
The old man chuckled at the sprite's wide-eyed wonder, one beefy hand ruffling the white shock of hair for a moment before retreating. The touch was so different from what he had grown accustomed to. So very strange in comparison to the long, drawn out strokes of his head that Pitch had been privy to. They had too often ended with the ashen hand gripping him by the hair to inflict punishment. But this touch had been different. It spoke of camaraderie and affection for a child that these people did not know yet loved all the same. It was laden with emotions that the winter child had never experienced, nor did he recognize. He could only understand how different it was in comparison to the touch that was meant to destroy.
Blue eyes scanned the meal before him, the sagging tray struggling to hold the plates of turkey, rolls, soups, and treats. All in all, it was more than the boy had eaten in all his three hundred years combined.
Seraphina, sensing his overwhelming awe, plucked a single glass of milk and a bowl full of broth from the tray and set the rest on a side table. She cooled the broth in a moment; the rising steam extinguished in a cracking of cold, and set it before him with a spoon. The sprite dug in with zeal, unbothered by the shaking in his hands just so long as a little but of soup made its way into his mouth. He began to slow when he was halfway though the bowl, and before he made himself ill, Seraphina relieved him of it and helped him change his tunic. A large portion of the soup hadn't made the journey to his mouth, and his tunic had caught the drips.
Bunny's ears flattened when he saw the remnants of the healing wounds on the winter child's bare chest. Jack didn't seem to be nearly as bothered by the stitches and now yellow bruising. In fact, he seemed rather at peace. Mother Nature caught Bunny's stare and understood his confusion.
"I will address it later," she said quietly and nodded her head towards the Sand Man. As soon as he nodded back, Seraphina pulled Jack close to her and situated him in her arms. He settled with a quiet hum, his eyes resting on each one of the guardians from the safety of Nature's arms. He nodded off to sleep a few moments later with the help of a dream-sand dusting, another simplistic dream taking root about his head. He grinned sleepily and burrowed deeper into Mother Nature and her winter cloak.
The guardians all left at once to keep the room quiet. Only Mother Nature remained, keeping time with his breaths by running her reed-like fingers through his hair. She whispered little things to him, to the moon, and no one in particular during those lonely hours, humming and whispering even as the earth throbbed and groaned in anticipation for her return. But the volcanoes and hurricanes could survive without her for a few more hours. She was needed here, anchored to the pole by the power of a child so similar to the millions of others who needed a mother. So she stayed for his sake even tough her place was no longer with the armies of light. Their cause was still hers as well, but as an AWOL operative for the last 300 years, she knew they depended on her about as much as a rattle snake depended on the ocean for sustenance. However, her relationship with the guardians held no bearing over her affection for her lost frost child, so she sat up camp by his side to comfort and love until she was sure he could be safe and well at last.
For his part, Jack slept deeply and comfortably for four hours before the Guardian of Hope limped slowly into the room and took a seat at the end of the bed. Mother Nature watched him silently for a few moments, green eyes boring into green eyes in a way that was more searching than confrontational. It only made the guardian a little uncomfortable, a feat not often achieved when one locked eyes with Nature herself.
"Well?" The keeper of the winds asked quietly. "You've come for a reason, Aster, I suggest you get on with it."
Bunny's whiskers twitched before a wry smile split his lips. "Nevah wer one ta beat 'round the bush, Sera," he said as he said as he pulled his injured foot up to rest on the bed.
"No," she agreed. "I never have been one to engage in idle chatter. And neither have you, Aster."
"Yer right," The Pooka replied with a shrug. "But I guess with errythin' thas been goin' on eeryone's a but outa sorts." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I'm worried 'bout cha, Sheila. Ya got the whole world waitin' fer yer say so ta even sneeze but alla sudden this kid pops up an' ya ferget who ya are. Ferget that there's world that needs ya."
"He needs me," Mother Nature snapped irritably.
Bunny nodded his head slowly. "Yes, but Spring is groanin' ta be birthed in the right places an' its waitin' on ya. Yer needed in more places then jus' here. The sprite will be fine ta sleep on 'is own fer a tic while ya manage the natural world. 'E's dreamin' deep 'nuff an' e' won't even know ya left for a bit."
"I will know," Seraphina whispered.
"Yer gonna come back, ya just need ta see ta things, Sera, yer Mother Nature. The planet canna work right whin yer not around ta tune it up an' keep errythin' balanced."
"I won't leave him again!" Mother Nature cried. Her voice caught in her throat when the boy in her arms crinkled his nose and shifted in his sleep. She ran her fingers through his hair to placate him before continuing in a quiet voice. "I won't leave him. Not again. I won't loose him to darkness because of my responsibility to this planet and my inability to deal with the pain of seeing him hurt. He deserves better than that, Aster."
"Sera, ya realize 'e's not cooped up in Pitch's lair, right? 'E's free an' restin' nice an' easy here at Santoff Clausen. We ain't Pitch, an' we're not gunna hurt 'im."
Mother Nature visibly deflated. "I…I know," she murmured, her attention returning to the child in her arms.
Bunny reached forward and set a paw on her hand. She met his grass green gaze. "Tell me why," he whispered. "Tell me why ya fee like this is all yer fault."
"Because it is, my friend," the woman whispered. "I left him there to rot, visiting every decade or so when it became convenient. I was his guardian and I failed to guard him. He was worse with every visit, and I know that is on my shoulders." She sniffed lightly, regal even when tears threatened to surface with the release of memories. "One of my sparse trips just so happened to follow his very last escape attempt. I found him lying on the floor of a cell with his hands flayed open and his feet pegged together at the heel with an iron stake."
Seraphina pulled her cloak away gingerly from the sprite's body and maneuvered on his hands into view from where it rested against his chest. She curled back the long fingers, revealing a white scar on his palm. Bunny ran a paw pad over the raised reminder of horrors past, releating the motion when she showed him the spatter shaped scars on either side of both of his heels. The healed tissue did little to camouflage the story of skin that had literally been burst.
"He had sand plastered all over his mouth and nose and I watched his eyes turn grey and his spirit die before my eyes. He didn't know me, hardly even understood the concept of anyone besides Pitch.
"I watched as he continued to be damaged and abused even when his fight had died and his mind and body had been taken over. And finally I just stopped coming to see him. It was much too hard to just keep watching him suffer. But that was my weakness that I allowed to rule over me. To leave him now when I don't deserve a second change at saving him would only cement how foolish I am. I don't deserve him any more than he deserved the hundreds of years of torture that he was forced to endure. But I would like to see the combined forces of heaven and hell try to pull him away from me now."
"Sera, no one is tryin' ta take 'im away from ya."
"Pitch is."
"Pitch hasn't shown hide nor hair since the fight an' even if 'e' was plannin' somethin' this kid's got the greatest fightin' force this world has evah known lookin' out fer 'im."
Mother Nature scoffed. "If you four are all we have then I rue the day that fighting resumes. This child nearly killed you all with a four to one advantage against him."
"But 'e' didn't," Bunny cut in. " We won an' now 'e's safe an' recuperatin'." Bunny paused, his ears flattening against his skull. "We're not proud o' what we did, an' we take full responsibility fer the hurt we caused. But we would nevah, evah allow anythin' ta hurt him again."
"I know," Mother Nature Whispered. She unconsciously gripped the boy a little tighter.
"Then let 'im go ta sleep without ya fer an hour an' go settle down the storms wreakin' havoc over Australia befer there's nuthin' left!"
A wry smile crossed ruby red lips. "Now I understand," she said. "You're just fretting over the warren."
Bunny scoffed. "Well I admit it was a factor, but the snow buryin' everythin' high 'nuff in altitude in North American was a pretty big concern too."
The mistress of seasons smiled again before resting her head against the headboard. They stayed like that for some time, the soft, rhythmic breathing of the young winter spirit the only sound that broke the silence.
"Will you stay with him for me, Bunnymund?" She whispered.
Long ears flicked forward. "Ah will," he agreed.
"Just for a little while?"
"Of course."
"No more than an hour or two."
"I'd stay two days if ya asked."
"Alright," she conceded and gently untangled the wintry child from her arms. She left her cloak wrapped around him and he nuzzled into it with a sigh. A new dream popped up above his head. A banquet table loaded with food to serve six glittered in all its golden glory. Mother Nature smiled at it fondly before tearing herself away and striding from the room.
Bunnymund sighed and took up Mother Nature's position beside the sleeping youth. Granted he didn't cradle the boy as she did, but the air of protection around them both was so strong it was almost tangible. No harm would befall the boy that night. The Guardian of Hope would be sure of that.
~:o:~
Far away, in a cavern deep under the surface of the earth, the King of Nightmares was perched in his throne room. He held the same position he had been in for nearly a week. Every once in a great while, an ashen thumb would run across a long crooked stick that law across his lap. Shadows flitted to and fro about the room, tending to him and feeding him little bits of information that their cousins hidden in the North Pole had gathered. Since the moment they carted the winter spirit into the workshop, Pitch had been flooding the not-so-secret-hideout with his shadow dwellers, filling every dark corner that its many rooms held. But they did not attack. Not even when the Guardian of Dreams had destroyed one of their own. No, the time for attacking had not yet come. So they waited patiently and silently, and let the golden dreams have their last hurrah.
Soon they wouldn't be sleeping so peacefully.
Time to come home, Jökul.
DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNN. Yeah I did just do that with no concrete day in sight for another chapter. I apologize. But I hope to have one up around thanksgiving!
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