Chapter Text
There is a place hidden deep in the mountains. Far back beyond the forests, hidden among trees and among the lakes where no one can see. A simple house sits quietly between two lakes in a place where magic is very real. People can feel it in the very air that they breathe, can feel it twisting into their bones. This was the land of saints and magic. A sacred and holy place of healing.
Located between these two lakes stands a small thatched cottage. A cheerful garden grows in front of it filled with flowers and herbs that fill the air with sweet perfume. Light curtains flutter in the air from the open window and catch the starlight that flutters down to the forest floor. Hidden inside wooden walls is a simple home from ages long past when families slept together and huddled for warmth.
Far in the back of the room, away from the fire, lay a bed. Only one small figure slept inside its covered by blankets decorated by constellations and swirling stars, hidden from the cruel world behind the door. A young boy sleeps there, a peaceful smile on his face as he snuggles into the black cat next to him.
Outside the wind stirs. Heavy clouds cover the seeing-moon and let the shadows grow. In the cottage the darkness rises and becomes a thick and present thing. It twists and writhes into the shape of a man, killing the fire's light. On the bed, the figure moans, stirring in sleep as the man draws closer.
Outside the land goes quiet in fear. Soft whispers fill the air from the surrounding spirits. "Nightmare King," the whisper, "The Nightmare King has come to the valley!"
And indeed, it is so. The destroyer of planets sweeps across the floor of the small cottage to loom over the figure on the bed. Golden eyes bear down the human shape twisting among the sheets as the fearsome Pitch Black stands quiet.
Slowly, a grey hand reaches out to to tangle in ivory white hair. The cloak of fear is set aside as he settles carefully on the bed, curling over the figure. And the hint of a smile begins to appear as beautiful blue eyes flutter open in the cool night air. A soft gasp breaks the quiet before the rustling of sheets echoes across the valley. Now the figure, a boy really, is sitting up clinging to the hand that is tangled in his hair. A shy smile crosses the young face even as the old nightshirt slips down a pale shoulder.
"Pitch," the boy breathes, swaying closer to the being of fear.
And Pitch Black simply smiles back. But this is a softer smile, a loving smile as he trails his fingers from pale hair to the column of the boys throat. Neither will speak of what he feels there, not when Pitch holds such fragile life in such terrible hands. "Hello Jack," Pitch murmurs to the darkness, before dragging the boy back down to the sheets below.
Outside, the clouds cover the moon. And the valley stirs in fear over the going on inside of the cottage between two lakes.
~*~
April 4, 2012
It starts with the black horses in the night. Katherine has heard the children whisper about them fearfully. Their diaries and notebooks fill with descriptions and simple drawings of the beasts. At first glance, they seem simple enough to defeat. Simply destroy the horses and the problem goes away. Or at least that is what the others seem to think of course. The problem starts to get worse and worse as the time goes on.
They grow even more restless as the nights go on. Katherine can only watch helplessly as the creatures begin to attack her friends when they run across each other. Toothiana never says it out loud, but the worry is clear on her beautiful face. She is scared that her fairies will keep being attacked as the black horses grow bolder. Even worse is how worn down Sandy now looks. He used to be bright and cheerful as he sent out his dreams to the children of the world. Now though Sandy was beginning to dull around the edges as the black horses were destroying the dreamsand creations.
It was three days to Easter now. And Katherine knew Bunnymund was scared that his holiday was going to suffer an attack from the horses that would destroy the special day. Katherine was afraid of that as well. If Bunnymund's holiday failed and belief dipped then her dear friend could be gravely weakened. On top of that, with how aggressive the black horses were it was likely that Bunnymund would be hurt by them.
The black horses were the first threat. They were made even worse soon after. New monsters were appearing around the world that made the black horses look cuddly and cute. These ones were strange twisted creatures of sinew and bone that lurched around the ground and were hunting down the Guardians.
Sandy had to avoid them more and more often. It had gotten so bad Nightlight began traveling with him to fight off the strange monsters who were trying to tear into the dreamsand with their rotting fingers. It was so strange and no one knew how to deal with it.
"It has to be Pitch," Bunnymund snarled one day, stalking back and forth in the workshop. Katherine just curled into herself on a couch, scared of her friend's rage in these attacks. "Only he would summon these types of monsters to fight us."
"The black sand horses are his, there is no doubt," North murmured. The normally jolly man looked his age in the face of the terror slowly gaining on the world of men. "But these sinew men? I have never heard of them before."
Toothiana shifted nervously. "Maybe they're a new breed of nightmare men?" She offered softly. It was obvious she didn't want to say it, but the possibility needed to be examined. Even if it was one of the scariest thoughts she ever voiced.
Nightlight's glow faltered at the question as a deep seated horror grew in his eyes. They knew how to fight the nightmare men. After losing entire galaxies they had finally figured out a way to fight them off. But if the nightmare men evolved? Then there would be nothing they could do. Pitch would finally win. "We need to strike while we still can," Nightlight said coldly. "Pitch grows stronger the longer we wait. Fear is getting stronger as these new monsters walk the earth."
"Maybe there's something in the library about what these creatures are. I can go look," Katherine volunteered for the job quickly. She wasn't a soldier, or a great warrior. She was a scholar and that was where her strengths lied. Her dear friends knew this as well, Katherine could tell from the relief on their faces at her suggestion. It would cause them less worry if she were here in the great library instead of out there where the strange new creatures could get to her.
It still warms her heart when Nightlight caught her arm and whispered "be careful" before letting her go. Their relationship was still a little complicated even after all of their years as friends. Neither is willing to make the first move towards something more. Fear once again is what keeps them from confessing. The fear of ruining a relationship, the fear of a bad breakup causing them to stop speaking to each other. It was strange at how they constantly fought against Pitch but they were still ruled by the tiny little fears that existed in daily life. Sometimes Katherine wanted to laugh at the whole situation.
There was something different about walking down the hallway to the library tonight. Usually Katherine enjoyed the walk, it was quite nice to take a break from the bustle of the workshop, but right now the deserted hallway didn't feel warm and welcoming. Instead it felt almost menacing. The silence was pressing down on her from all sides and dampened even her footsteps. The shadows were creeping across the hallway with sinister intent and it made Katherine afraid.
Could it be possible for Pitch to have crept into the workshop to get to them?
Katherine paused worriedly and that pause was all the shadows needed. They lunged forward, wrapping around her limbs and gagging her quickly. Her eyes widened in horror even as the shadows dragged her out of the workshop and through them to somewhere else.
She hit the rocky ground hard as the shadows dispersed. Katherine scrambled to her feet, staring in horror at the sight around her. Fearlings were crouched around her in the cavern, twisted into grotesque shapes as they hissed at each other in chittering voices.
This was not where Katherine ever wanted to be. Stranded and alone without a weapon at the mercy of the Fearlings. It was hard not to hold herself for comfort as the Fearlings crept closer. It was harder not to show any fear on her face and muster up all the defiance she could manage. "Why am I here?" Katherine demanded when actually she meant why was she still alive? But the Fearlings didn't answer.
Even stranger, they didn't creep closer to her or hurt her in any way. They just watched blankly and hissed to each other before skittering away back into the shadows. That...was more alarming than Katherine wanted to admit. She was scared of what was happening right in front of her now.
"Ah, excellent. You arrived."
It was not Pitch Black who said that. Katherine turned and came face to face with someone else standing in front of her. She noted how Pitch stood behind this stranger with a resigned look on his face and an air of defeat covering him. The Fearlings hissed in agitation and moved away from the stranger to cower behind Pitch. What was happening here?
"You are Katherine, yes?" The stranger asked, a slight German accent marring his words.
"I...I am," Katherine whispered unnerved by how silent Pitch had been. The stranger wasn't even that intimidating to look at. He was about her age with a fae expression on his face. Messy brown hair was wind swept and the dashing of freckles over the bridge of his nose was cute in a way.
But his eyes. There was something wrong with them. The bright red eyes tracked every movement of hers like she was an interesting insect. Something inhuman was present in those eyes, something ancient and malicious.
"Katherine," he breathed with an easy smile that made chills crawl down her spine in terror, "The linchpin of the Guardians. Isn't that right Pitch?"
An expression of distaste flashed across Pitch's face as he was addressed. "She is," Pitch ground out, the disgust clear in his face.
"Prefect," the stranger purred a sick smile spreading across his face, "Yes, she will do quite well for my plans." The Fearlings stopped their chatter. Pitch stiffened up, rage darkening his face. The stranger's smile just grew.
"Kill her," he whispered.
Pitch's eyes narrowed as his lips thinned in rage. A dark expression crossed his face as he took a step away from the stranger. "No," Pitch hissed.
That...was not what she was expecting. Actually Katherine had no idea what she was expecting anymore from this whole bizarre situation. Why was Pitch defending her right now? Wasn't he allies with this new person?
"No? Oh come now Pitch, is that really the answer you want to give?" The stranger hissed, rage darkening his youthful features. "You know what will happen if you defy me." A knife appeared in a pale hand. Katherine covered her mouth as the stranger pointed to point to his own eye, threatening to gouge it out. "Tell me Pitch, do you want me to maim this body?"
The Fearlings all lunged forward, skittering towards the stranger. But as the point of the knife was pressed against the pupil, they all froze. Pitch's face was completely blank. All emotion was wiped clean as he waved the Fearlings back into the shadows before he bowed his head in defeat. "One day soon, you will make a mistake," the rage in Pitch's voice was clear to Katherine. No matter how beaten down he seemed, Pitch was still ready to fight. "And once you misstep, I will be there ready to destroy you Faust."
And with that, Pitch swept past Faust to tower over Katherine. His face was still unreadable, but Katherine could see a deep grief shining in the golden depths. What had happened to make Pitch so sad over the years.
Pitch leaned down to Katherine's level. She was settled there, frozen in fear before he began to speak. "Go to the cottage hidden in the sacred isle," Pitch whispered into her ear, "Find the boy who guides the lost and hopeless, he will help you. Just tell him Pitch sent you."
Pulling back, Pitch snapped his fingers and the Fearlings lunged forward. Katherine screamed as they grabbed her and dragged her back into the shadows. No matter how hard she struggled Katherine was unable to break free as she was pulled further into the darkness. The entire time, the Fearlings whispered in her ears.
Faust will hunt you. Hunt you across the world. Hunt you like he did the boy.
Boy? What boy? Were they talking about Nightlight? Katherine had no idea how she could warn him stuck like she was.
The boy liked up. Like the Master. Made him smile. But then Faust made the boy go away. Now the boy is hidden, hidden where no one will look.
Katherine's screams stopped as she was thrown from the shadows to hit the ground. The soft grass and moss did little to cushion her fall. All she could do was lie there and listen to the birds cheep above her, and feel the light shining down on her before the darkness claimed her.
The boy will help. He will save us all. The Fearlings whispered, receding into the shadows. He guards the book that turns darkness into light.
~*~
February 4th, 1669
It starts on a winter's day over three hundred years ago. There is a boy and a girl who are skating on the ice. A simple pastime for those who are used to the winter but this one is much more deadly. Because the ice is thin on that day and begins to crack under the girl's feet.
Everyone has heard this part of the story. They know how the brave boy takes off his skates to save her from death. But what they don't know is who is watching them. Their fear is thick and cloying, filling the air of the glen and catching the attention o a certain Nightmare King.
Pitch Black watches as the girls begins to cry. He stands amongst the shadows of the trees while the boy smiles at the girl.
"We're going to have a little fun," the boy whispers before skipping across the ice. The girl copies him, and that is when the boy lashes out with his crook and drags her to safety. But now he is on thin ice and Pitch already knows what will happen. He is moving even as the ice cracks beneath the boy's feet. The shadows under the lake drag him down into the gloom before the cold can kill him.
And so Pitch finds himself standing in his lair holding a young man, boy really. Both dripping wet, and the boy unconscious in his arms. Water pools beneath their feet as Pitch glides across the floor to place the boy on a bed made of shadows.
He is beautiful, Pitch realizes absently. Thin grey fingers trace the freckles across too pale cheeks, and hungry golden eyes are drawn to the delicate mouth that is sucking in air instead of water.
Such a pretty boy the Fearlings hiss around him, He would make a good Nightmare Queen. Here besides us for all of time...
It is tempting. To own this bright star completely. To be able to lose himself in the frail looking body resting on his bed. But Pitch saw the light in his eyes at the pond. And to turn this boy into something else, a Fearlings, would destroy that light and leave him with nothing left. Just an empty shell of nothingness that lacked the bright light of life.
Never before had Pitch wanted to guard life.
"Leave him," Pitch ordered the circling Fearlings, "This one will stay the same. This one...this one we give back."
With a wave of his hand, Pitch summoned the shadows and sent the boy back to the lake he had saved him from. A moment of weakness and Pitch covered the water logged form with a blanket of shadows before disappearing back into the darkness. The boy would go home. He would live a bright and wonderful life, marry some girl and have children of his own.
Pitch would never see Jackson Overland again.
~*~
April 5, 2012
There was a girl lying on the grass of the glen. The boy frowned as he approached her, hiking up his backpack. He hadn't expected this when he started his hike, but now the whole mess had landed on his lap. This was so completely bizarre to see.
This girl looked completely strange. A Victorian era dress, rather beautiful. It looked authentic, not like someone playing dress up or heading to a role play type of thing. And really, who would go to play dress up in the middle of the woods?
Kneeling down, he began to shake her shoulders. "Miss, are you alright?" The boy demanded, worry clear in his voice.
A low groan left her as the girl began to get up. She blinked slowly even as she pushed herself up. Her brown hair began to fall out of the perfect bun to curl around her face. "Where...where am I?" She asked, looking around her in fear.
"Miss, are you alright?" He asked again reaching into his bag to pull out some water, "Are you thirsty? Do you need water...you look like you need water. I mean, you're running around in the middle of summer in a thick dress..."
"I'm in a forest," she whispered in fear, "I'm standing in the middle of a forest. Which forest, where am I? Who are you?"
"I'm Trevor," he said absently helping the girl to sit up, "Honestly, why were you walking around a forest in this dress?"
"I wasn't in a forest, I was at the North Pole," she snapped grumpily. Trevor struggled not to say anything to that answer. Maybe the heat had fried her brain. "Now tell me where I am!"
"Glendalough," Trevor said, helping her onto her feet.
"Where?"
"Glendalough? It's a good hiking area. I'm backpacking through here," Trevor admitted. "Miss, are any of your friends here? Were you hiking with them? Did something happen?"
"I'm not Miss, I'm Katherine," she said crossly brushing dirt off of her skirt while looking around the glen. "I shouldn't be here...I need to be somewhere else."
Trevor's eyes widened. "You're lost," he whispered nervously. His eyes searched the tree branches looking for something he knew would be there.
"No! Well, yes, technically I'm lost," Katherine sighed in frustration, "I don't even know where I'm supposed to go!"
"Then you are lost," Trevor breathed out, awe coloring his voice. Katherine scowled at his tone. She knew she was lost, he didn't have to keep rubbing it in!
A soft meow cut through the air.
They both turned and looked at where the meow had come from. Sitting on one of the trees was a black cat. Golden eyes stared down at them from the haughty face of the feline as it stretched slowly on the bow. Another meow left the cat even as it came jumping daintily to the ground.
It stalked around Kathrine, rubbing against her dress, before darting towards a small path in the ferns. The cat paused there, watching Katherine with its golden red eyes and mewed again.
"It wants you to follow," Trevor whispered, awe in his voice.
Katherine stared nervously at the cat. "Where is it going to take me?" She asked Trevor.
"To the saint," Trevor said, a wide smile on his face, "It will take you to the saint who will help you find the way."
"Which saint?"
"Saint Frost, patron saint of the lost," Trevor's whisper caused the winds to stir. Katherine shivered as the chilly air curled around her. "Well? Go on," Trevor hissed, "If you want help, St. Frost is the best place to start!"
There weren't a lot of other options for her now, were there. Katherine sighed before hiking her skirts up and following after the cat. The pair of them disappeared into the lush underbrush, following the tiny little path that showed through the ferns. It was beautiful, Katherine couldn't help but smile at it. This place was a paradise. She could easily see Bunnymund spending hours here among the flowers.
The cat led her to a little brook that flowed merrily along the path. Small fish were swimming within it, flashes of silver shining in the air. The birds flew through the air around them, singing happily and twittering by the trees. Katherine though was focused on the cat. The cat that ignored the birds and focused on leading her through the woods.
It wasn't natural. Cats didn't act like that.
The little brook widened into a river that flowed to a rocky outcropping. A waterfall crawled down it to form the river Katherine had been following for sometime. The whole clearing was surrounded by beautiful green trees that looked too perfect to be real. Adding to the whole image was a small cottage sitting in front of a beautiful garden that the cat was headed towards.
It turned to face her one last time and let out an annoyed meow before climbing into the window with one last swish of its tail.
Taking a deep breath, Katherine gathered up her skirts and started towards the cottage. Her annoyance became even worse when she had to cross the stream and her skirt soaked up the water. But still, she managed to get across and stomped up to the door. Raising her hand, Katherine pounded on the wooden door before planting her hands on her hips.
"Come on in," called a cheerful voice from inside of the cottage, "The doors unlocked!"
Katherine blinked before trying the knob. The door swung wide open and Katherine had a choice to make. She could step through, into some strangers home, and trust they would help her. Or she could turn around and leave as quickly as she could, get out of here and never look back. It all came to this decision.
The sound of her boot on the wooden floor echoed in her ears. Katherine took another breath to steady her nerves and continued onwards into the cottage. She couldn't help herself from looking around at all the little things that were gathered in the cottage.
It was a cheerful place, with bright green curtains embroidered with yellow. A cabinet held an impressive array of bone china and little knick knacks from all around the world. Katherine was especially taken by the delicate faberge egg that sat on a little stand. A large patterned curtain blocked off half of the cottage, showing a rearing black horse made of knots on a dark green pattern.
"If you give me just a minute, I'll be out with some tea," the voice called from behind the curtain. "Tea makes everything better you know. Just take a seat at the table and I'll be right out!"
Katherine nervously sat down at the tiny table. She nervously tucked her feet under the chair and stared at the stack of books on the table. A loud meow sounded, and Katherine turned to see the cat come running out from behind the curtain to jump onto the table in front of her.
"Please excuse Labraid," the voice called out as a small figure came darting out from behind the curtain with a tea tray in hand. "She's a bit of a handful really. But she's a real friend and a great guard out here." And then the stranger turned around and Katherine actually got a good look at him.
And really, Kathering was justified for screaming when she saw him. The boy looked exactly like the stranger who had been controlling Pitch. The same big eyes, the same freckles across his nose. The only difference was the blue eyes and the white hair.
The boy blinked at her slowly before lowering the tea tray onto the table before sliding into the seat across from her. The cat, Labraid, jumped into his lap and began to pur.
"That is a rather extreme reaction to seeing someone," he commented mildly, "I brought you tea. You should have some, it makes most things better I've found. Now that you're calmer, I have a question for you?" His icy blue eyes hardened. "Why is a girl, dressed like you, wandering around the woods by herself?"
Katherine wasn't entirely sure what she could say. She could have told him about the Guardian's, or how Pitch Black had sent her through the darkness to these woods. There was even the stranger controlling Pitch who had made all of this mess start by taking control of the Fearlings. Or did it all begin with the Golden Age and their arrogance at believing they could defeat Fear once and for all.
But for some reason, Katherine did not actually say any of that. Tears welled up in her eyes before spilling over down her cheeks. A sob tore free of her throat as she thought of Nightlight all alone out there facing down whatever stranger was out there that was hurting Pitch and destroying her world. Helplessness welled up deep inside of her, clinging to every nook and cranny while the stranger watched with his unreadable blue eyes.
"I'm lost," Katherine sobbed out, "I'm lost, and have no idea where to go, or what to do now!"
Strong arms pulled her in for a tight hug. Katherine let out an embarrassing wail as the stranger tucked her head under his chin, cuddling her close like a small child. "It's going to be alright sweetheart," the stranger cooed, petting her hair gently, "I'm going to help you. Don't worry."
"How can you possibly help me? Who are you?" Katherine gasped out because how could this be real? How could some stranger living in the woods help her when the Guardian's couldn't? How could she trust some stranger Pitch sent her to? "What do I even call you?"
"Call me Jack," he pulled back and smile gently at her. A pale finger brushed a tear off of Katherine's cheek. "But the people around here call me St. Frost, patron saint of the lost. And I help people find their way again. It's what I'm best at."
~*~
February 17th, 1669
Jackson woke up shivering by the lakeside. His teeth were chattering as he struggled to stand, his fingers and toes turned blue from the cold. Stumbling to his feet Jack wrapped his ragged thin cloak around him and started for home.
Jackson didn't notice the trail of black sand that fell off his clothing. Or the strange creature with glowing eyes that followed him from the shadows.
The bitter cold was biting into his fingers and Jackson...he was afraid, alright? Terrified that the cold would get him where the ice hadn't and someone would find his frozen corpse in the thaw. It caused tears of desperation to stream down his cheeks as he struggled onwards. A sob of delight left Jack's throat as he saw the tiny cabins of his home village.
He was safe! He was home! Jackson couldn't wait to curl up by the fire with his mother's thickest blankets around him and just sleep off the cold. Anything to make the burning stop.
Jackson stumbled as he reached the edge the village. Leaning against one of the cabins, he summoned what was left of his voice. "Please..." Jackson gasped out, "Help me..."
The entire village square froze. Jackson could see the horror and fear plain on their faces as they studied him. He continued to shiver in the cold, not understanding why they were staring at him like that.
"Is...is that the Overland boy?" Thomas Bennett whispered, taking a fearful step back.
"It can't be," widow Thompson mumbled, dropping her basket to the ground, "He died! Jackson drowned! We buried him!"
What? Jackson could only blink in confusion at that. He hadn't drowned, he was standing right here! There was nothing wrong with him. "But...I'm not dead," Jackson mumbled the slightest tint of fear beginning to form.
"It must be a ghost," one of the men hissed, shooting Jackson untrusting looks, "Come back to haunt us because we can't give the Overland boy a proper funeral."
The other villagers muttered in agreement at that. Their fear hung heavy in the air and all Jackson wanted to do was go home. Their whispers about him were growing worse and worse and all Jackson wanted to do was turn and run. But some deep seated fear kept Jackson from running away. He was frozen in place.
"He must be a demon!" One of the village girl's screamed. Jackson stumbled back as the fearful cry was taken up by the other villagers. One of the older men took up the girl's cry of demon and reached down to pick up a stone from the ground.
Jackson still couldn't move when the man pulled his arm back. He didn't react or move until the old man's stone hit his cheek and sent Jackson stumbling back in shock. Reaching up, Jackson touched his hair line to check the damage. His shaking hand was stained by blood, Jackson realized as horror grew in his throat and gut. The blacksmith had thrown a stone at him!
The next stone made Jack stumbled again. The third one brought tears to his eyes and the forth one sent Jackson sprinting into the forest again in the hopes that it will save him from the wrath of the villagers.
Jackson doesn't know it, but this moment changes his entire life. Because the creature from the shadows is the one to rear out of the darkness and terrify the villagers back to their little cottages and away from the running boy.
The Fearling crept through the shadows as it approached the boy. Human children were always so delicate, the Fearling mused, always so easy to cry and run away from the monsters in the night. Monsters like the Fearling.
But this boy was already scared and he had already run. There was no reason for the Fearling to make it worse. Not when it knew somewhere deep inside that it needed to keep the boy alive and happy. So the Fearling reached deep inside of itself and found a form that wouldn't scare the child away. It took quite a bit of searching before the Fearling finally settled on an appropriate form.
Sure, it was much smaller that the Fearlings true form. And it felt rather vulnerable as it padded across the snow to approach the running Jackson boy. Tiny paw prints were left behind even as the Fearling crawled up to the Jackson boy's side and let out a happy mew. Jackson boy blinked before a bright smile spread across the tear stained face.
"Why hello there," Jackson boy whispered reaching out to gather the Fearling into his arms. The Fearling blinked in surprise as the boy buried his face in its brand new fur. "You're not afraid of me, are you?" Jackson boy whispered, tears thick in his voice. And of course the Fearling wasn't afraid. It was fear. Why should this thin boy make it worry?
"Everyone else is afraid of me," Jackson boy whispered brokenly, "All of the villagers think I'm some kind of demon when...mercy of God. I just want to go home!"
Well that was easy enough. The Fearling would take Jackson boy back to his true home. Not the pathetic village who had made the Jackson boy cry but the first home. The first home Jackson boy had come from all the way across the sea. That was where they would go next.