Let The Music Play || Rise of The Guardians COMPLETED

8

The Dark Ages
The dark figure stood proudly on the hill, staring down at the tiny fraction of his claim.

The humans there feared him, all but one.

He sped through the town, chuckling as the few people left outside at the late hour shrieked at the sight of him.

Finally reaching her tent, he took a deep breath, brushing back his hair and wandering into her tent.

Her hair cascaded down her back, the colour of candied apple, contrasting against her snowy skin.

She turned, her smile reaching her jade eyes.

"Mr Black" she purred, swaying her bare hips as she approached him.

"Lady Nassetia" he growled.

She pressed her naked chest against his cold body.

"It's so lovely for you to come tonite, my love."

"Any news?"

"I am with child."

"Is it mine?"

"Yes, my love. You know what that means?"

"I am yours, as promised" Pitch Black whispered, leaning down and kissing the town jewel's forehead.

—––————––————––————––————––————––—
Pitch's sleep was awoken by a foreign voice.

I told you not to interfere with them.

You ignored me.

Now you will pay.

He never returned to Lady Nassetia.

The apple haired woman cast the child onto the snowy embankment.

"I hate you" she screamed "he's gone."

The child didn't understand.

How could she?

"I hate you Autumn Grey, I hate you."

—––————––————––————––————––————––—
It had been centuries since Pitch had felt the pain of his own daughter's words piercing his spine.

"It's all your fault."

"You left us."

"You killed me."

"I hate you."

The words were the truth behind his fear. He had lost believers.

They told their children it was a bad dream.

There was no such thing as the boogyman.

His daughter had her mother's hair, the same snowy skin, but Pitch's golden eyes.

He had seen her, wandering around, sitting on roof tops, staring at the stars, and screaming at he man in the moon.

She had been punished for his mistakes.

She was suffering.

She was alone.

It wasn't something he enjoyed watching, his own daughter in pain.

It seemed to be a form of karma for all the misery he had brought others.

But, for now, with his plan for the guardians in motion, he needed to discard his daughter again.