Chapter Text
She knew he was there.
She’d known from the moment his feet hit the ground. That was the thing about being connected to all nature; she was well aware of everything that went on in her realm. She was Mother Nature, after all. If he really thought that she wouldn’t notice him, he was more dull than she originally thought. Which was saying something.
Deciding to push down the annoyance, she went about her business, with the aspiration to ignore him. Let the brat wander around for a few hours, she thought with no small amount of pettiness. With any luck, he’d get bored and leave before she had to deal with him.
Decision made, she let a blanket of peace fall over her as she drifted through the trees. In all the world, she considered only the Amazon forest to be her true home. It was old, the oldest forest in the world, and that called to her. It was the only place that she felt completely calm and peaceful and it was—why wasn't the brat leaving?!
She gave a mental groan and accepted that he wasn’t going to go away on his own.
"Is there something I can help you with?" She called with a small glance over her shoulder. From the stuttering feet, he was not expecting her to notice him. She rolled her eyes. Really. "The fact that you even think that you can sneak up on me is insulting," she informed, turning to face the man.
He matched her in height, however any similarities stopped there. He was pale and light where she was tanned and dark; bald with light eyes while she had a head of dark hair down to her waist with eyes of gold. He was round where she was lanky, dressed in lights silks and she in a dark gown. She crossed her arms and starred the man down, waiting.
"You seemed busy."
"I'm making time."
"I thought we could talk."
"We don't talk," she said with a snort. "You only come down off your rock when you need something. Now, let's try this again; what do you want?"
The Tsar Lunanoff, or as many knew him, the Man in the Moon, stopped short and then gave her a bashful look. He smiled and gave a nod of acknowledgement.
"I suppose we should do something to remedy that," he offered. Nature only raised a brow, awaiting the response to the question. He sighed. So much for pleasantries.
"I wish for us to discuss Jack Frost's inclusion into the Guardians."
And just like that, any pleasant domineer that might have existed in the conversation vanished. The woman's face went blank and her eyes alit in anger.
"No," she said shortly, turning on her heels in dismissal of the conversation.
"Sera—"
"Oh no, we are not on first name basis right now."
"Pitch is rising again."
"Your problem, not mine," she informed, making a point of becoming very interested in a cluster of plant life. And completely uninterested in anything the man had to say.
"They will need the help. He's more powerful than I've seen in years; he's able to walk in the light, corrupt dreams, he—'
"What part of 'it's not my problem', did you miss?!"
She whirled to face him, pretty face screwed up in anger. Her eye all but burned in rage, her teeth were barred in a snarl, and to be honest there was quite the resemblance to Pitch in that moment. But that was an observation that he very wisely kept to himself.
"I don't care what the shadow is up to. I made it very clear when you brought this war to my world that you were to LEAVE. ME. OUT OF IT!" They were nose to nose now, and there were heavy glares on both sides. "You are not dragging my little boy into your blood feud, understand?"
Point made and rage simmering down, she turned away. Firmly ignoring the Moon spirit, she focused her attention back to the forest vegetation. The man stared at her back, and then took a calming breath before he snapped something that he’d regret. Working with the spirit of nature was always so aggravating, and it was hard to keep his temper.
"Seraphina," the woman's shoulders stiffened at her name and the Tsar pushed on before she could respond, "the boy is a Guardian. I've known that since I helped you create him."
"I knew it. I knew you had an agenda there." She turned back, once again fuming in anger.
"Yes, it's who he is. We both know it."
"Don't pretend to know anything about him. You've never taken the time to know anything about him. At least I've tried to be a part of his life!"
When Lunanoff dropped his head, Sera continued on.
"Do you have any idea what you've put him through? He’s spent the past three centuries thinking that there’s something wrong with him because of you.” No matter how hard she tried to convince him otherwise. “He thinks that you hate him, all because you couldn't bother to say more than two words to him. Do you have any idea how hard it is to see him like that? Do you?"
"It pains me as much as you. You know why I couldn’t talk to him, Sera. It hurt that I couldn’t have that contact with him; he's mine as much as he is yours."
"If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t be dragging him into the middle of a war." Some of the anger left her expression, and concern raced to fill the void.
"He'll be well protected," The Moon spirit said.
The woman snorted and rolled her eyes with bitter amusement.
"Your Guardians have had three hundred years to protect him. And they have failed, epically."
"You've known some of them your entire life. Shouldn’t that warrant a little faith?"
"Not where my boy’s concerned. They don’t exactly have the best track record of keeping the kids around them safe.”
Lunanoff sighed. “What happened with Katherine and Nightlight—“
“Is the only thing I really care about when you’re trying to put my son in the same position.”
"Our son.” He snapped. “Sera, do you really think that,” he paused, and took a breath. “Do you really think I would do this is I thought he would be in any real danger?”
Sera gave him a look that said she really did think that. He swallowed back more anger.
“I may not have been in his life, but I’ve been watching over him. I’ve seen how he's been hurting, even with all you do for him. You can only give him so much, and he needs more." Sera shook, her lip trembled. Seeing the weakness, he pushed on. "The Guardians will give him what he needs; the attention, Believers, his memories. He needs this."
There was a moment of tense silence, and then Sera let out an angry shriek. She turned away sharply to strike a tree and the earth around her trembled with her rage and sorrow.
"I hate you! I hate you so much, I hate you! Why do you have to be here?" She demanded. "You ruin everything. Why do you always have to come and destroy anything good I have?"
The Moon stood quietly while she reigned in her emotions, watched her trembling shoulders as she turned away. He sighed once more, and accepted defeat for the moment. There was still time before Pitch made his move, still time to convince her. But for now, this discussion was over.
"I don't understand why you continue to interact with me if you feel as such. You came to me when you wanted to make Jackson a spirit, and I do not understand why you would do so with such animosity toward me.
"All I ask is that you think it over,” he continued when she didn’t respond. “And think of Jack."
She only continued to stare ahead, he sighed once more and prepared to leave. She spoke before he could depart.
"There's only six of us."
He came to a stop, looking over at her. She still hadn't turned.
"That's all that remains, all that's left of our way of life, of where we came from. I can't, can't really bring myself to cut all contact with any of you."
He moved forward and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He wanted to say something, but there were no words that he could think to offer. He could never understand her pain in its entirety; the Tsar had been only a babe when the Golden Age came crashing down. He had no memory of any life other than the one on the moon. So he stayed a silent presence by her side, and hoped it was enough.
Sera put her hand over his after a moment, and then turned to face him. "I pity you, sometimes. I have memories of the past. It’s painful, but at least it’s something. I can't imagine what it's like to know nothing."
"It's difficult," he admitted. "I hear stories about the worlds my parents ruled, the majesty and beauty, but that's all they are. Stories." He met her gaze with a searching one of his own, smiling shyly.
"Will you tell me?" He requested and her eye brows shot up in surprise that had him laughing. "I have a feeling the stories are rather idealized," he explained and she laughed as well with a nod of agreement.
"I'm starting to remember why I put up with you." She motioned for the man to follow, summoning a tangle of vines to serve of sitting.
"Come, sit. I will tell you of where we came from. And we will discuss," she sent him a look to make sure he understood the emphasis, “Jack's inclusion to your little club."
The Tsar followed eagerly, excited for both conversations, and Sera spun back to face him. His steps stuttered to a halt. Her eyes blazed once more, drawing his undivided attention.
"Just remember, if anything happens to my child because of whatever hair-brained scheme you've got brewing, I will rain fiery hell upon you in retribution," she promised darkly. And the man believed her fully. He nodded his comprehension and like flipped switch, her face went from terrifying to pleasant.
"Good, now, let us speak."
The man shook his head, and snorted fondly. There was never a dull moment when speaking to Mother Nature.