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What Is Your Center?	By : LuciferDragon Category: +M through R > Rise of the Guardians Views: 1676 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Rise of the Guardians world, and I make no profit at all from this fiction.

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We didn’t travel through the Void. It would have been faster, but for some reason I felt it would be best if we traveled through the air, despite the sky glowing bright with the early morning. As we traveled, I began to regret the decision, and not for the light. He didn’t ask where we were going. He didn’t ask anything at all. It was unusual for him to be so quiet. Though, given the circumstances, I suppose it was appropriate. On top of his humiliation in front of the Guardians, we were now officially alone for the first time in a century. I hadn’t even spoken to him to his face when I left.
How else was I to break up with the King of Nightmares? Say “I’m sorry, but you’re fucking crazy” to his face? No. How I had done it was best for the situation. The silence was justified.
Which was why I almost fell from Hessian as it was broken.
“How have you been?” he muttered behind us. “A hundred years is a long time.”
“So it would seem. Do you snap at all the girls who offer their help?”
“I’m only trying to be civil. I’m not the one who left without a spoken word.”
I kept my gaze ahead.
He chuckled and forced his horse forward, cutting me off, forcing me to look at him. “What’s this? Guilt? It couldn’t be. I wasn’t aware the Spirit of Halloween could feel guilt.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m only trying to help. Our past has nothing—“
“It has everything to do with this!”
I could feel Hessian twitch beneath me. “Please. Let’s just—“
“Not until I know why you’re helping me after a century of silence!”
Something in me snapped and before I could stop it, the truth flew out. “Because I loved you!” For once, it looked as if I had stunned him. With the damage done, I gripped harder on Hessian’s reins. “You were there from my rebirth. You were the one to breech the boundary of student and teacher. You were the one to give me a home, a purpose.” I narrowed my eyes. “You were the one to drive me away.” I led Hessian around him. “And if you’re wondering, I don’t anymore. Haven’t for a long time.”
Did I ever regret leaving? Of course, for awhile. It was for the best. When the playful violence turned real, I knew to get out. He had tried to find me in my dreams for a few months, but I kept him out. After that, he didn’t come after me. I assumed he had accepted my choice. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t realized he had done anything wrong.
I looked down again at the city as Hessian’s hooves walked on the support of Wind. He had gone quiet again, and I almost believed he had returned to his lair. Only the occasional snort of his Nightmare gave him away.
A tingle in my horns caught my attention, signaling we were right where we had to be. Without warning I dropped Hessian into a dive. He galloped against Wind’s hold, racing toward solid ground, snorting and grunting as he ran. With a whinny he leapt from the air and landed on concrete. A moment later the Nightmare landed similarly.
He curled his lip as I dismounted Hessian, keeping the horse close. “A cemetery? What’s so special about dead humans?”
I couldn’t help but smile as he also dismounted his horse. “Is that all you see?”
“Acres of them.”
“Such a shame your view is so small.” I stepped over a low chain fence, ignoring the sign that said to keep off the hallowed ground. All around me I could feel the spirits of the soldiers that refused to part with their bodies, still not accepting their fates. I knelt next to a headstone with one such soldier. He stood over his grave, staring at his name. He looked barely into his mid-twenties. “Private Evans,” I said, touching the white marble. I tapped in to his memories, sifting through them, finding out why he stayed behind.
He nodded. “Ma’am.”
“You realize this isn’t a dream, right?” I had done this many times. It didn’t hurt any less.
The spirit nodded again. “I can’t leave them. They’re still fighting. My wife, she’s about to have our first kid.”
The stories of the dead varied, but they all held pain. I was not a reaper, and I did not wish to be. I could still lead the dead to rest like they did. I tended not to. I preferred to work with them after they had accepted their fates.
“They need me, Ma’am.”
The headstone told me the most recent tales. Mrs. Evans had already birthed the child. The daughter was three now. Mrs. Evans never remarried. The soldiers visited every-so-often when on leave. I stood and went to his side, placing a finger to his forehead. The spirit gasped as I showed him his friends, his wife. His eyes shined as he saw the little girl. “My daughter…?”
I nodded and smiled. “She’s healthy, doing well. She would have loved to meet her father, but her mom keeps the world going.”
Evans looked to me, still bewildered. “I had a little girl.”
It wasn’t unheard of for spirits to live in a loop, to not know the world around them was still spinning. I merely nodded again. “The world is an ugly thing, but you managed to produce such a beauty to counter it. You should be proud.”
He let out a short laugh, though the smile faded fast. “Are you here to take me away?”
“Only if you’re ready.”
He looked back to the headstone, heavy jaw locked in thought. A tear escaped his eye and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. After a moment of thought, he nodded.
I touched his shoulder. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Private Evans.” Within moments he faded to nothing, leaving my hand hovering.
A heavy scoff sounded from behind me, reminding me I wasn’t alone in the cemetery. “This was to show me what?”
“That there is beauty in everything. Even death.” I turned and didn’t meet his gaze as I walked past him. I placed my hands to the peeling bark of a tree. “What else do you see here?”
“A tree.”
I nodded, staring up at the pink blossoms.
“What is so damned special about a tree? They’re always in cemeteries.”
“Not these.” I tapped the trunk, sending a short pulse through the wood. It immediately released the blossoms, raining soft, pink petals all around us. “A sight of beauty, grown from the soil of the dead.” I caught a whole flower in my palm and smiled at it. “This is my center. I can find beauty in everything.” I took the flower to him and placed it in his hand. “Remarkably enough, I can find it in you as well. Not as easily as I once could, but it is still there.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“You’d be surprised.” I stepped away, enjoying the blossoms again. “The soldiers here died for a cause, each of them. They sacrificed their lives to protect their loved ones, so they could live on.”
“And what does this have to do with my center?”
I finally looked at him, finding myself locked in his pale gaze. “What do you protect?”
He curled his lip. “I protect no one.”
“Then your cause is lost.”
I could see him growing angrier. “Woman I swear—“ He stopped when I took an instinctive step back. I’m not sure how long we stayed that way, but I could for sure see thoughts race behind his eyes. He was the first to look away. “I have no one to protect.”
“You drive them away. It’s what you’ve always done.” I found myself rubbing my arms and I held them in place, gripping tightly. “The others, they protect the children. What do you protect?”
“Nothing. Not for a very long time.”
I forced the guilt away. It wasn’t my fault. It really wasn’t… Was it? I looked to the horses and couldn’t help it as a smile slipped on to my lips. Hessian and the mare were nickering at each other, bumping heads and resting against the other’s neck. At least they had made amends. My smile fell as I realized he had followed my gaze. I tilted my head to the right. “Follow me.”
He did as asked as I led him up the cement pathways, past a large open theater. I could hear tapping getting louder, as well as the click of a shifting gun. I took him to the top of a set of stairs and leaned against a wall, staring at the monument the army man was standing watch over. Beyond it stood the rest of the city, illuminated in all its glory with the morning glow. Pitch looked on in confusion. “What is he doing?”
“It is his duty to stand watch over the grave of forgotten soldiers. Fighters who gave it their all until they were on their last breath, and even then continued to fight. They were soldiers who couldn’t be identified. They are buried here due to their bravery, and are protected at all times by various men in the army.”
“But why guard someone with no idea of who they are?”
“Honor. They do not abandon their own.”
He frowned again. “Can you see them?”
I shook my head. “Their spirits have parted a long time ago. They would have no regrets.” The soldier turned, tapping his boots together. “That is the main cause for a spirit to linger. The more regret, the stronger the anchor.”
We both went silent, merely watching the lone soldier wear the path further into the stones. When he broke the silence, I was not prepared for the question. “Do you have regrets?”
“I—Of course I do. What about you?”
“Some. Nothing can be done about them though.”
“It depends on what you regret. If it can be corrected, it is worth a try.” I straightened without warning and started walking away to the horses. I didn’t look to see if he was following. What would make him feel guilty enough to regret?
I made it to the shadows of a cherry blossom tree before a strong hand found itself on my arm. “I know why you left.”
I looked at the cement. “It’s in the past.”
“It’s a regret I’ve carried for a century, Hana.”
I pulled out of his grip. “Sure you have. Just like the last time you apologized.” I focused on Hessian, seeing him trot off into the woods with the Nightmare. “Looks like we’re stranded. Damned stallion. Knew I should have made him a gelding.”
I turned in time to see Pitch cringe slightly. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“There isn’t.” I sat beneath the tree, looking out at the hundreds of rows of marble headstones.
“Can you see the beauty in this situation?”
I clenched my teeth. “Don’t be a smartass. Your Nightmare is just as guilty.”
“At least two of us are getting along.”
“They’re animals. Rutting is a thing they’ve been doing for a very long time. Especially them.” I continued to keep my sight to the headstones and lost souls as he sat beside me in the grass. “Just because they originate from dark thoughts doesn’t change that.”
I heard him chuckle, which finally brought my attention to him. I would have looked away if he didn’t catch my gaze. “When was the last time we were at a cemetery together?”
“A long time ago.” I swallowed as a flash of an image passed over my vision. Heat flowed through my body at the brief memory of intertwined, writhing bodies on the cold, wet grass.
“Almost a century and a half now.”
I only murmured in agreement as another memory flashed by, full of laughter and playful, possessive bites.
“Halloween, 1862 if I remember correctly. I hope I didn’t… distract you from your duties.”
“Scream for me, Hana.”
I cleared my throat and looked down again. “No, not at all. I was still able to keep everyone in line. It was a lot easier to do than now.”
He laughed and I could feel his weight shift. Or was it my weight that shifted? I couldn’t tell. The only thing I could tell was that we were closer, touching actually. “You’ve been doing a fine job with Halloween the past hundred years. I take it you’ve been busy.”
I nodded, biting my lip as I remembered him kneeling in front of me, making my head reel at his touch. “Y-yeah, kids are harder to scare than they once were. I keep busy with finding new things to terrify them with. No time for a personal life when I have to spend personal time with my research. And… pickings are kind of slim when you work with dead things.”
He snorted. “I’m sure a few have a, ah, bone to pick with you. I mean, you do work with a lot of stiffs.”
I shoved at his shoulder, a giggle escaping my restraint. “Don’t be mean.” He shoved back, but in a way I hadn’t felt in a very long time. He was playing around. I laughed. “Don’t you shove me, wiseass!” I pushed a little harder, but he retaliated. My heart skipped a beat as I lost my balance and fell backward. I gripped on to his coat but it didn’t help. I ended up pulling him with me.
We didn’t move. Neither of us dared to. His nose laid mere centimeters from mine. I could feel his breath on my lips. “You said my center was chaos?”
I gave a slight nod. “That is what I believe.” My mind screamed logic, my heart screamed forgiveness. The mixed signals somehow created a powerful sense of confusion, uncertainty, but mostly lust.
“I suppose that is fitting.” I could see his gaze flick over me. He surprised me again by closing the distance between us, pulling my lips to his. A shock immediately flashed through my body and I reacted just as I had in the past, as if nothing had happened. As if we were back in the past a hundred years ago. I pressed against him harder, shifting my mouth open for him.
I could feel his hand wandering up my loose orange crop top, over the black bra beneath. I should have thrown him off, I knew it, but it had been so long… Our kiss grew more frantic, as if it was our source of life. His hands shifted to my back, making me sit up on my knees between his legs. We broke the kiss only long enough to tug my shirt off my body, setting it in the cemetery grass. He was instantly on me again, one hand in my hair, the other on my back, pressing me to him. I pushed on his coat, feeling it slip away from his skin to rest around his arms.
Again my brain screamed to turn him away, but I couldn’t. The kiss was too good, the touching too intense. Instead I let him do as he pleased. I let him mutter sweet nothings, let him touch me as he hadn’t in over a century, let him close. He was gentle, caring. He didn’t do anything dominant or possessive as before. He did something he rarely did before.
He made love to me.
Cheesy, yes, but that is the only way I could explain that morning. He was patient, slow, and deliberate. He said things I hadn’t heard in a very long time. Why did what he did I don’t know, but I, like any other female would, accepted the advances. It didn’t feel like sex, it was deeper than that. If it was only true on my end, I was happy enough with that.
In the end we stayed on the grass under his coat, remembering the times past, even after the humans started coming in to pay their respects. It helped that we were invisible and inaudible to them. I wasn’t sure how long he would be like this, and so ran with it. The more we talked, the more I realized I was right about his center. While he did represent fear, shadows, nightmares, and whatever else he prided on being, that was just the surface. Below simmered chaos. A complete disregard for good order.
Just the way I remembered.
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What Is Your Center?