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Unaware of Pitchâs thoughts, Nightlight carried on, his expression becoming more and more serious the closer to Santoff Claussen they got. Gone was the ghostly slip of a boy with the bright smile and the chiming laughter; here, Nightlight was a soldier, and heâd willingly led his most hated enemy into the heart of his home.Â
Oh, his Tsar had better know what he was doing, for Nightlight wasnât sure he did anymore.Â
Big Root loomed ahead, the windows glowing with the warmth of the fireplace. All of a sudden, Nightlight yearned for the comfort of it, fondly remembering his times spent cross legged on the hearth as his Katherine read him her stories. That had been a long, long time ago, and nothing pulled at the heart strings like nostalgia did. His fingers tightened around his staff almost as a reflex, the desire to protect that memory as strong as the desire to protect his home from the boogieman that heâd led here.Â
In and out. The sooner he got Pitch that cursed book, the sooner Pitch would leave Santoff Claussen alone.Â
It was very late, and the lack of noise from inside Big Root told Nightlight that Ombric was either asleep, roosting among his owls as he did, or elsewhere. It was the perfect time to act, if they were to act at all. Turning back to acknowledge Pitch for the first time since they had started walking again, he inclined his head towards the tree. The coast was clear. Whatever Pitch wanted to do, he needed to do it now.Â
Pitch was looking around the clearing, at the tall wooden houses tucked cozily into the confines of the village. As expected, Santoff Claussen had been frozen in time, quite unlike the other towns of the world. He supposed this was his own fault, having kept the residents isolated through his attacks on the little village. It quite simply wasnât safe for the Guardians to let the magic preserved within Santoff Claussen out into the world.
Or at least, that was how he saw it. Perhaps the Guardians had a different agenda.
The layout of the village was vastly more appealing to him then the ugly brick and pavement society the rest of the world had become. He wished to linger, possibly even discuss with Nightlight the days of old. Of course, that was a silly wish, considering who he was, and what had happened each and every time he had entered Santoff Claussen in the past. And what he planned to do in the future.
Pitch approached Big Root, eyes still somewhat glazed in curiosity as he examined his surroundings. He felt tense, more so than he should be.
"Something doesnât feel right." He hissed. "Like weâre being watched. I may just be paranoid." He hoped this was the case.
For the briefest of moments, Nightlight felt it. Felt the same strange nostalgia that curled in his chest in the heart of the other. A subtle longing for days long gone, even if Pitch had seemingly buried it beneath layers of other, less tasteful feelings and memories. He seemed to do that a lot, for someone that claimed to have complete control over Fear itself. How much fear did Pitch hide beneath his heart, the spectral boy wondered.
He followed Pitch as the other stepped towards Big Root, staff held loosely between his hands and feet making no noise on the ground below. Even his glow, usually so bright in such strong moonlight, was dimmed to its lowest capacity. There was a need for secrecy here, and Nightlight was all too eager to abide to it.
And then Pitch tensed, and Nightlight felt the unease roll off of him in waves. Though he'd never admit it, Pitch's unease affected him too, and the boy glanced over his shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of insecurity. If something had followed Pitch here, then Nightlight had made the wrong choice to allow him entrance to Santoff Claussen.
Not for the first time, Nightlight suspected foul play.
'I am feeling the Watching too.' Almost unconsciously, the boy took a step closer to Pitch.
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Laughing at the otherâs snappish response, the boy shrugged. He didnât want anything from Pitch; never had, and this little coincidence was nothing more than that. It was just bad luck on Pitchâs part to have accidentally crossed paths with the one person in the universe that was really able to weasel under his skin.Â
He regarded the other curiously, however, his arched brows asking the other the same question. This area was rather close to Santoff Claussen, even for wanderings sake, and the Nightmare King had more reason to explain his presence here than Nightlight did.Â
Pitch scowled at the question in his expression. âI do not need to explain myself to you,â he huffed, crossing his arms. âCan I not simply have a nighttime stroll without my motives being questioned? My entire life does not revolve around you and those damned Guardians!â
The question was met with a shrug that would have been dismissive had Nightlight's eyes not been searching the other with thinly-veiled mistrust. No, as a matter of fact. Pitch could have his nighttime strolls, but not this close to the place Nightlight had come to call Home. There had been territories marked out during their ageless war, and Nightlight had come to expect a certain amount of playing by the rules from the Nightmare King. It was only fair, after all.Â
'You are very close to the Guardians. If you do not want your life to revolve around them, maybe go away?'
Moonlights || Katherine and Nightlight
theboyguardian
So enraptured by this idea of a daydream that Nightlight had all but forgotten the cold, the shiver that had startled him pushed to the back of his mind almost instantly. To imagine impossible things? Things he was too afraid to do in real life?
Instantly, his mind replayed the hurried press of his lips against hers- the fear and the panic, the frenzied mantra in his mind, the donât leave me donât leave me donât leave me that had pushed aside all rational thought- and glanced down at where her hand had met his.
Impossible things. There was seemingly almost nothing impossible to the boy who had stepped uncertainly into the first stages of prepubescence, filled with bright courage and possibly a little too much bravado in the literal face of darkness.
But things he was afraid to do in real life? That was a larger list than heâd have thought it to be. He feared no shadows, nor monsters nor villains. He didnât fear the fearlings or the nightmare men or the other unsavory creatures lurking beneath the shadows, but-
He feared losing his Katherine, just as he feared her.
She was an impossible force in his life, full of soft smiles and laughter and her strange ability to tie him to the earth as though his life was created to revolve around hers. Heâd never acknowledged her fleeting life- the lifespan of a mortal, a human, who was already so vulnerable and breakable- compared to his own, until heâd stood beside her and stared down at the tooth in her palm. Heâd been unable to deny her a smile as sheâd offered him her own gap-toothed one, but beneath it all thereâd been fear.
She was growing up.
But-
Now so was he.
He honestly didnât know what frightened him more. The fact that they were no longer who heâd known them to be, or that insistent part of his mind that continued to replay their kiss as though he was in need of constant reminding that things had changed.
The wind blew again, and Nightlight shivered, yet he kept his eyes trained on the hand holding his own. Getting sick certainly didnât sound fun. âSickâ was a word that heâd come to associate with sniffly noses and wet coughing from the Small Ones that didnât bundle themselves up as they should have. To be sick sounded very unpleasant and, gently squeezing his Katherineâs hand in his own, he nodded. His restlessness had subsided for the night, and settling down under the heavy blankets with his Katherine by his side sounded like the ideal way to end a night.
Due to the fact that the spectral boy had neglected his shoes (they were beside the bed where North had told him to keep them, but heâd found himself tripping over them more often than not, and had instead moved to shove them beneath the bed instead- which was, of course, the most likely reason for forgetting his shoes in the first place) he tightened his hold on his Katherineâs hand, offered her a somewhat mischievous smile, and motioned towards the sky with a flick of his moonlit hair.
'Be flying instead of walking?'
Flying. Flying instead of walking. Now here was something that Katherine knew that no amount of I Believe had done for her. Heavens knew, she tried! She had, indeed! And, in fact, it had been how she had me Nightlight to begin with, hadnât it? Sheâd been so high, and thereâd been that fleeting moment where theyâd been face to face. That had been the start of it. It seemed that she and Nightlight had been drawn closer and closer together ever since, until there they were, sitting on a branch together, close as they could be. The thread that had looped around them, had pulled so tightly, that Katherine and Nightlight now seemed to be sewn together by fateâor whatever that uncontrollable power was calledâand could no longer bear to be apart from one another. âI should like that very much.â Katherine admitted. She frequently daydreamed about the idea of flying, high, high into the cold, wet clouds, and up further, seeing the stars while the sun was still up. The idea of experiencing all of this while holding onto Nightlight had always been a thought that made her smile. But now that they were older, and especially in recent months as Nightlightâs change had begun, the thought had warmed her heart, and her face, too. At the thought of his arms around her, and the dark skies around them as they went up into the skies, Katherineâs face was starting to redden enough to be seen by Nightlightâs glow. She smiled shyly, and glanced back at him. âIf youâre up for it.â And then theyâd snuggle under a blanket. Though Katherine knew deep down that North would be terribly annoyed if he caught the two of them together in one of their beds, she thought that there would be considerably less shouting if they were caught in his bed. That would mean that, at some point (As far as North would know!) Katherine would have had to sneak into Nightlightâs new room, rather than the other way around. It might not look good, but it would look less bad. The fog was circling over their feet and ankles, and Katherine felt a chill. If she was feeling the cold, even though her sweater and shoes, then there was no doubt in her mind that Nightlight was feeling it worse! âIt wonât be too cold on you, will it?â
He may be Changing, but Nightlight was still Nightlight, and he puffed up his chest and tossed his hair at her concerned questions. Of course he was up to it! And of course it wouldn't be too cold for him! He was Nightlight! He could do almost anything for his Katherine!
So, without deeming her questions an answer, he scooped her up into his arms (her warm weight against his chest, her hair tickling his chin, her gasp against his throat) and bolted up into the sky before he had the chance to second guess himself. His staff remained tucked in the crook of his arm, held expertly by a boy that had long since accepted the broken bough and the diamond blade to be a part of himself.
The night air was cold against his face, and he felt the bite of the wind against cheeks that were probably already pinkened for other reasons. Yet, despite the icy wind that insisted on tousling his hair this way and that, he had to pause, for the night was spectacular even by his own standards. The moon was large and bright, a beacon of light against the inky darkness of the sky, and first hints of purple along the horizon spoke of the coming dawn. Their time together was becoming less and less, and Nightlight had no intention of wasting it.
So, with that thought in mind, he tightened his grip on his Katherine, felt the icy bite of cold air against his face, his feet, his hands, and took off towards Santoff Claussen.
And he tried to ignore how heavy his Katherine felt in his arms, and the weariness in his bones that caused the first sparks of unease within his chest. She shouldn't be this heavy. He shouldn't be this tired. He'd never tired before, especially doing something as easy as flying! But no- he was still strong. Strong enough to carry her home. Strong enough to keep fighting. Strong enough to protect her.

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Stranger things had happened to Nightlight before, and he ducked his head with a good-humored laugh as the Sandman suddenly appeared above him.Â
'Sanderson!' It had been some time since the spectral boy had seen his friend and fellow Guardian, and a wide grin stretched across his face as his glow brightened exponentially.Â
{Nightlight~} Sandy grinned, recognising the glowing boy anywhere. He grins brightly, floating over. {Has been long time! Missed dearly friend~}
He stops just before him, looking up at him happily. {Have been busy? Banished many shadows? You missed big fight! Pitch tainted my sand! Gave Nightmares!} The symbols flashed above his head wildly, far too fast to be coherent, the little man was very excited to see his friend again.
Sandy's symbols were flitting above his head too fast for even Nightlight to decipher, but he understood the words the other spoke, and the spectral boy leaned his weight against his staff with a grin.
'My Katherine told me of your battles! Fearsome battles! Told me of you, too!' What a horrible thing for the Pitch to have done! To turn the sandman's dreamsand to nightmares, and to even harm him so!
@theboyguardian
There had been no alarm when Pitch simply vanished through the boundary to the forest. Pitch had always been sly like that, clinging to the shadows, and Nightlight followed him quickly, bolting up above the thick wall of impenetrable thorns and back over the other side, like a child throwing themselves over a wall. He was quick and agile, and it only took him a moment to catch sight of the other again. Not that heâd worried, of course, but it was nice to know that Pitch hadnât slunk off in a more permanent manner, and within the confines of Nightlightâs Home.
Now, however, their situation had become terser. Nightlight stood tall on the branch heâd come to land on, tapping the edge of his staff against the bark absently as he ignored the otherâs presence below. Nightlight didnât wish to be found here tonight, much less with the Nightmare King in tow. He didnât wish to cause alarm within the village, nor unrest within the forest. The animals were very finely tuned to the presence of shadow creatures, and he only hoped that his glow was enough to dim Pitchâs oily black shadows from being noticed.
'Come.' He mind-murmured after a moment, taking an unconscious breath as the forest remained as silent as it had before their arrival. The birds remained tucked away in their nests, the insects quiet and the reindeer presumably elsewhere.
He had no desire to allow Pitch entrance to this forest for any longer than was strictly necessary, as though his presence alone would sully the innocence of his Home. He tapped his staff against the bough once more before stepping off into the air, motioning for the other to follow him. They both knew the way, but Nightlight found that he rather liked being in charge.
Pitch stepped off the ground into the air, nearly becoming one with the shadows once more as he followed the spectral boy.
He was still considering the best way to go about this. There was so much to think about, after all. Physically, he was no match for Nightlight. That was, until he had his nightmares back. He now faced the decisions of when to turn this situation around, of how, and where he would find the power to do so.
Perhaps heâd make one of the Guardians experience the same torment he had; being trapped in a cave, having their mind torn apart again and again by their worst fears made manifest. Revenge, as always, was heavy on his mind. He wouldnât accept Nightlightâs help with a smile and a âthank youâ, and if thatâs what the boy expected then he was an idiot.
The forest was quiet in a sort of way that put him very much on edge. There was much for a being like himself to worry about here. Every little noise drew his attention, making him pause for a moment before hurrying to continue after the spectral boy.
"Weâre getting close." He muttered, more to himself than to Nightlight.
Unaware of Pitch's thoughts, Nightlight carried on, his expression becoming more and more serious the closer to Santoff Claussen they got. Gone was the ghostly slip of a boy with the bright smile and the chiming laughter; here, Nightlight was a soldier, and he'd willingly led his most hated enemy into the heart of his home.Â
Oh, his Tsar had better know what he was doing, for Nightlight wasn't sure he did anymore.Â
Big Root loomed ahead, the windows glowing with the warmth of the fireplace. All of a sudden, Nightlight yearned for the comfort of it, fondly remembering his times spent cross legged on the hearth as his Katherine read him her stories. That had been a long, long time ago, and nothing pulled at the heart strings like nostalgia did. His fingers tightened around his staff almost as a reflex, the desire to protect that memory as strong as the desire to protect his home from the boogieman that he'd led here.Â
In and out. The sooner he got Pitch that cursed book, the sooner Pitch would leave Santoff Claussen alone.Â
It was very late, and the lack of noise from inside Big Root told Nightlight that Ombric was either asleep, roosting among his owls as he did, or elsewhere. It was the perfect time to act, if they were to act at all. Turning back to acknowledge Pitch for the first time since they had started walking again, he inclined his head towards the tree. The coast was clear. Whatever Pitch wanted to do, he needed to do it now.Â
Nature is sometimes too cool to handle.
Aurora over Alaska, captured by Taro Nakai.
Moonbeams || Ina and Nightlight
theboyguardian
A monster!!
Instantly, Nightlight was on high alert. He dropped back onto his feet before the girl, staff held to the ready in his hand. If there was a monster somewhere around here then it was Nightlightâs duty to defeat it so that Small Ones like Ina were safe!! There was no monster that Nightlight couldnât defeat, after all! All the fearlings and nightmare men and nightmares fled before his light, and those that were brave enough to fight were cut down effortlessly.Â
'Where is the monster?' He asked, a crooked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he jabbed a thumb towards his chest.He practically radiated confidence, knowing that this Small One could feel it. She was particularly open to him, even without the mental link that he and the other Guardians shared. Briefly, he wondered if there were anything more to her, before Moonbeam flickered and reminded him of his duty. Yes! The monster! They would protect Inaâs home from the monster, and return her to it before she became sniffly and cold from the snow!Â
 âI shall chase it away! Far away! Never be fearing the monster any more!'Â
Ina stepped back out of instinct. The boy had reacted so quickly, and with so much intent that she didnât know what to make of it at first. Tipping her head, as though to take in the whole picture, Ina took note of the staff he was carrying, and the glint at the end. Was he really a knight?
His confidence hit her, and she righted her head, watching, still. What a strange feeling, like courage, and kindness, and a sort of powerful fearlessness⌠She didnât know what the word for confidence was, and wasnât really familiar with the emotion, either, so the undiluted mix of bold determination, and other strong-feeling emotions really took her off guard.Â
What was this?
"I-it lives in the dark." She spoke after trying to absorb the shock of what she thought was his bravery. "I-in the shadows. He comes out⌠A-.. and he eats your hurtness, and your pain, and⌠and he puts his claws into your head, and makes you hurt more, s-soâso he can eat it.â It frightened her just to remember the pain that came with the attacks from the monster. Ina wrang her hands together, watching Nightlight as he proclaimed that heâd drive away the monster, as another moonbeam seemed to gleam particularly brightly from nearby.Â
What a horrible monster this one seemed to be! Definitely not something that he, nor his Tsar, should allow to roam, and the boy set his lips in a straight line as he shouldered the staff and reached out to rest his hand on the Small One's shoulder. Reassurance rolled off him in waves, and he tightened his grip ever so slightly, letting her know that he was here, and that she was safer here with him than anywhere else in the world.Â
Then, just as quickly as it had disappeared, the grin reappeared on Nightlight's face, and he gave Ina a quick pat on the head. Her hair bounced beneath his touch, and it amused him greatly.Â
'Lead me to the monster! Be chasing it away! Never be feeling the Hurts or the Fears again!'

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It had only been a few moments, but that was all Nightlight had needed to gather himself back together. Heâd allowed cracks to form and Pitch was quickly trying to weasel himself into the weaknesses in his metaphorical armour. Theyâd been enemies for too long, and they knew each other too well to let down their guard. Pitch knew his fears, and Nightlight knew Pitchâs. They knew each otherâs games, their weaknesses and their advantages.
They were very, very old beings, he mused silently with his eyes still reflecting the moonâs light. It felt like a million years heâd known the other, and perhaps it had been. Perhaps even longer! Time was a strange concept to those that had lived enough of it.
But in all his years, and through all his Tsarâs silence, Nightlight still believed. It was his strength, and his lips curled into the smallest of smiles as he finally turned back to face the other. His Tsar still trusted him, just as Nightlight trusted his Tsar. Pitch wasnât going to use that against him.
'Tsar Lunar says you should be stopping the talking.' He quipped slyly, shifting his staff and pointing the glowing dagger at the Nightmare King. 'And be walking in front of me.'
Their truce was paperthin, after all, and Nightlight didnât feel like being betrayed just yet. Pitch knew the way, and Nightlight wasnât about to expose his back to his oldest enemy. He had no doubt that Pitch had already thought of his plan to defeat him, and with the stakes being so high on either side, the spectral boy wasnât about to let the Nightmare King get the jump on him.
'You know the way. Be keeping your shadows to yourself.'
Pitch narrowed his eyes. He was starting to feel like a prisoner, and the moment Nightlight pointed his weapon at him, his plan began to shift.
"Of course." He said, in as reassuring a tone as he could muster. He continued to contemplate the hedge, then all at once became incorporeal, blending into the shadows that entwined through the thorns.
He emerged on the other side, surpassing the largest of the oak trees, slightly out of breath but otherwise safe.
Now the question was, did he wait for Nightlight to follow? He could very easily sneak in alone now, while the young Guardian was off guard. He likely wouldnât even realize Pitch had broken the truce until it was far too late. He had been very trusting up until this point.
But what if he did immediately alert the others? That would be quite the disadvantage. Then, it would be unlikely that the Nightmare King would even be able to set foot within the boundaries of the village before the Guardians were at his throat.
So instead of betraying him so soon, he brushed off his cloak and leaned up against a tree, and waited. The light of the moon was beaming down upon him, and he felt the need to give it a reassuring smile. As if he could possibly earn even a fragment of MiMâs trust.
There had been no alarm when Pitch simply vanished through the boundary to the forest. Pitch had always been sly like that, clinging to the shadows, and Nightlight followed him quickly, bolting up above the thick wall of impenetrable thorns and back over the other side, like a child throwing themselves over a wall. He was quick and agile, and it only took him a moment to catch sight of the other again. Not that he'd worried, of course, but it was nice to know that Pitch hadn't slunk off in a more permanent manner, and within the confines of Nightlight's Home.
Now, however, their situation had become terser. Nightlight stood tall on the branch he'd come to land on, tapping the edge of his staff against the bark absently as he ignored the other's presence below. Nightlight didn't wish to be found here tonight, much less with the Nightmare King in tow. He didn't wish to cause alarm within the village, nor unrest within the forest. The animals were very finely tuned to the presence of shadow creatures, and he only hoped that his glow was enough to dim Pitch's oily black shadows from being noticed.
'Come.' He mind-murmured after a moment, taking an unconscious breath as the forest remained as silent as it had before their arrival. The birds remained tucked away in their nests, the insects quiet and the reindeer presumably elsewhere.
He had no desire to allow Pitch entrance to this forest for any longer than was strictly necessary, as though his presence alone would sully the innocence of his Home. He tapped his staff against the bough once more before stepping off into the air, motioning for the other to follow him. They both knew the way, but Nightlight found that he rather liked being in charge.
Moonlights || Katherine and Nightlight
theboyguardian
'Daydream?'Â
The concept seemed strange. How was dreaming at day different from dreaming at night? Did one have to be awake for a daydream? Was it any different from a normal dream? And how did one make up scenarios? Dreams were elusive things, so heâd been told, and though he wasnât sure heâd had any himself, he was pretty sure you werenât normally able to mold them into your own imaginations.Â
Frowning slightly, Nightlight shifted as his Katherine did. She must have gotten uncomfortable on the branch, he realized, and when she shifted he moved his cheek to rest against the side of her hair again. The moonbeams had paused in their game, their eagerness for a story tangible in the air, but when it became apparent that his Katherine didnât have a story for them they returned to their playing. For once, Nightlight didnât feel like joining them as he had before. Heâd been full of energy then, eager to put it to good use, but as the night wore on he found that that energy had depleted rapidly. It had been past midnight when heâd sneaked out, but he knew not how much time had passed since then. The sky still seemed dark, an inky blackness twinkling with the specks of far off stars, and the pale white glow of the moon. If dawn was nearing, then it still had some way left to go. There was plenty of time before his Katherine had to sneak back inside Big Root, for Nightlight knew that North highly disapproved of her nightly ventures.Â
He didnât know why though.Â
Perhaps it was too cold? She definitely wasnât dressed as warmly as she should be. Or perhaps North simply worried that the darkness posed some threat? Well, not with Nightlight around! There was nothing in those shadows that could hurt his Katherine while she was at his side!Â
(The thought that, perhaps, Northâs disapproval came from Katherine sneaking away to spend her nights with Nightlight hadnât crossed the boyâs mind, for he had yet to realize the implications behind their actions. Friends that spent time together seemed natural to Nightlight, who had no reason to believe that their unsupervised friendship would be the cause for Northâs concern.)Â
With his mind preoccupied with thoughts of North and his Katherine and the strange, strange concept of daydreams, Nightlight was taken by surprise when a cold breeze had him shivering violently. Cold! That was new as well! Heâd never been bothered by the cold before, but now he was becoming chilled more and more often! Heâd flown through space and over oceans and into the very heart of snow storms and never once felt such a chill as he did now!!Â
This change was a bothersome thing indeed!!Â
Katherine said nothing, though mostly because Nightlight said nothing. She sat there with him, preoccupied by his lack of sleep, and his confusion over daydreaming. How would she ever be able to explain something so simple, and so equally complicated? Seated in silence, Katherine contemplated the inner workings on the daydreaming process. After a time, she took a breath, and lifted her head a little, turning her eyes skyward. As the fog settled in heavier, the sky was slowly beginning to become obscured, and the moonbeams began to move higher to get a clearer game-field to play on. âDaydreaming is when you find yourself imagining things you want more than anything else.â Katherine smiled, eyes still turned up to try and glimpse the sky through the fog and the leaves on the trees. âFor instance, I like to think about doing impossible things.â Things like Goodnight Kisses. Things like boys who were suddenly changing. Flying. It was true that the magic of I Believe did so much, but there were still many things that Katherine had never considered using the magic for. âSometimes itâs imagining the things that youâre too afraid to do in real life.â Flying. âDoes that help?â Katherine really hopes that she communicated the idea well. If Nightlight wishes for something more, or something better, Katherine isnât too sure she can help unless she actually told him things that she daydreamed about, and she wasnât so certain she was prepared for something like that. Laying her head back against Nightlight, feeling his shiver. She adjusted herself on the branch. âNightlight? Are you could?â She reached out to take his hand, carefully balancing herself so that she doesnât end up send them plummeting to the ground. âWe should really go inside.â How strange to think about Nightlight being cold! Katherine had never give any thought as to whether or not her beloved friend felt the cold. It never really occurred to her that he might, but it was only just as she felt him shiver that Katherine realised that there was something different. More different than the fact that heâd shot up like a sprout in recent weeks. More different than the fact that the comfortable closeness that had changed to Something More than just the friendship theyâd always known.  âIf we go in, we can get a blanket.â She didnât add that they could snuggle under it, because Katherine was pretty sure that Nightlight already knew what she was thinking. âBut we should do it before you get sick. Trust me, thatâs not an experience youâre ready for.âÂ
So enraptured by this idea of a daydream that Nightlight had all but forgotten the cold, the shiver that had startled him pushed to the back of his mind almost instantly. To imagine impossible things? Things he was too afraid to do in real life?
Instantly, his mind replayed the hurried press of his lips against hers- the fear and the panic, the frenzied mantra in his mind, the don't leave me don't leave me don't leave me that had pushed aside all rational thought- and glanced down at where her hand had met his.
Impossible things. There was seemingly almost nothing impossible to the boy who had stepped uncertainly into the first stages of prepubescence, filled with bright courage and possibly a little too much bravado in the literal face of darkness.
But things he was afraid to do in real life? That was a larger list than he'd have thought it to be. He feared no shadows, nor monsters nor villains. He didn't fear the fearlings or the nightmare men or the other unsavory creatures lurking beneath the shadows, but-
He feared losing his Katherine, just as he feared her.
She was an impossible force in his life, full of soft smiles and laughter and her strange ability to tie him to the earth as though his life was created to revolve around hers. He'd never acknowledged her fleeting life- the lifespan of a mortal, a human, who was already so vulnerable and breakable- compared to his own, until he'd stood beside her and stared down at the tooth in her palm. He'd been unable to deny her a smile as she'd offered him her own gap-toothed one, but beneath it all there'd been fear.
She was growing up.
But-
Now so was he.
He honestly didn't know what frightened him more. The fact that they were no longer who he'd known them to be, or that insistent part of his mind that continued to replay their kiss as though he was in need of constant reminding that things had changed.
The wind blew again, and Nightlight shivered, yet he kept his eyes trained on the hand holding his own. Getting sick certainly didn't sound fun. 'Sick' was a word that he'd come to associate with sniffly noses and wet coughing from the Small Ones that didn't bundle themselves up as they should have. To be sick sounded very unpleasant and, gently squeezing his Katherine's hand in his own, he nodded. His restlessness had subsided for the night, and settling down under the heavy blankets with his Katherine by his side sounded like the ideal way to end a night.
Due to the fact that the spectral boy had neglected his shoes (they were beside the bed where North had told him to keep them, but he'd found himself tripping over them more often than not, and had instead moved to shove them beneath the bed instead- which was, of course, the most likely reason for forgetting his shoes in the first place) he tightened his hold on his Katherine's hand, offered her a somewhat mischievous smile, and motioned towards the sky with a flick of his moonlit hair.
'Be flying instead of walking?'
@theboyguardian
There was no doubt in Nightlightâs mind that he was playing along to the boogiemanâs game. This wasnât his form of battle; his form of battle was light and movement, fast and quick paced against numerous foes. Pitchâs form of battle was far more subtle. Words and snake-like smiles and deception, and Nightlight didnât know how to counter it. He felt as though every move heâd made tonight had been to the Nightmare Kingâs advantage, and the thought had him setting his teeth on edge as he scowled. It was only the mention of the Nightmares that had Nightlight back on task, far preferring his old enemy to this new danger. Pitch was one person, these Nightmares were many, and they were unbound by any form of command.
But still, willingly giving the army of shadow beasts back to their master?? No, there was definitely something wrong with that.
Ignoring Pitch, the boy cast his eyes back up towards the moon. His Tsar was silent, trusting Nightlight in the tasks that lay ahead. Surely there had to be another way?
Of course, the best action to take would be to destroy the Nightmares altogether, but they were far too many for Nightlight or the Guardians to battle face on.
But perhaps-
He glanced down at Pitch in what he hoped to be a subtle way, considering his options. If Pitch were to regain control of his Nightmares, then Nightlight would have to defeat him. Defeat the leader and you take down the army, but completely take down the leader to the extent that the Guardians had, and you release the army back into the world. He had to defeat Pitch once he gained control of his Nightmares, but not so much that heâd lose whatever control theyâd managed to wrangle him.
Could he do it? Was there a balanced point between losing a battle and completely losing control of the army that Nightlight could find?
Pitch did not like the way the boy was looking at him. He could feel his gaze, yet chose to ignore him.
It was quite obvious to Pitch what he was thinking about. After all, this was Pitchâs game, not his. And if Nightlight fought he could win it, he was sorely mistaken.
"Would you feel safer leading the way?" He called, still not meeting the boyâs eye. "Or⌠if you have plans to kill me now, I think I deserve a fair warning beforehand."
He was treading into very unsafe territory, indeed, not only in the village, but in Nightlightâs mind. After all, Nightlight had proven himself to be quite a violent adversary, when provoked. He could have killed Pitch numerous times in the past, and oh how he had tried.
The sturdy boundary of the forest lay before them, the hedge of thorns somewhat trivial to a spirit. Even in his weakened form, there were little physical barriers actually keeping Pitch from entering the village. Save for the Guardians, of course.
"What does MiM say?" Pitch asked, if only to taunt, finally turning towards the spectral boy. "Because heâs so very good at giving strategic advice. Always quiet at the worst of times, hm?â
It had only been a few moments, but that was all Nightlight had needed to gather himself back together. He'd allowed cracks to form and Pitch was quickly trying to weasel himself into the weaknesses in his metaphorical armour. They'd been enemies for too long, and they knew each other too well to let down their guard. Pitch knew his fears, and Nightlight knew Pitch's. They knew each other's games, their weaknesses and their advantages.
They were very, very old beings, he mused silently with his eyes still reflecting the moon's light. It felt like a million years he'd known the other, and perhaps it had been. Perhaps even longer! Time was a strange concept to those that had lived enough of it.
But in all his years, and through all his Tsar's silence, Nightlight still believed. It was his strength, and his lips curled into the smallest of smiles as he finally turned back to face the other. His Tsar still trusted him, just as Nightlight trusted his Tsar. Pitch wasn't going to use that against him.
'Tsar Lunar says you should be stopping the talking.' He quipped slyly, shifting his staff and pointing the glowing dagger at the Nightmare King. 'And be walking in front of me.'
Their truce was paperthin, after all, and Nightlight didn't feel like being betrayed just yet. Pitch knew the way, and Nightlight wasn't about to expose his back to his oldest enemy. He had no doubt that Pitch had already thought of his plan to defeat him, and with the stakes being so high on either side, the spectral boy wasn't about to let the Nightmare King get the jump on him.
'You know the way. Be keeping your shadows to yourself.'
ATC

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Sanderson floated down, landing gently on the roof and waddling across itâs surface, looking up at the stars above, he didnât seem to notice when his waddling led him straight off the roof.
Instead of plummeting, he gently floats down, narrowly missing someone.Â
{Apologies!} he said quickly, signs flashing above his head. {Was distracted by beautiful night sky}
Stranger things had happened to Nightlight before, and he ducked his head with a good-humored laugh as the Sandman suddenly appeared above him.Â
'Sanderson!' It had been some time since the spectral boy had seen his friend and fellow Guardian, and a wide grin stretched across his face as his glow brightened exponentially.Â
Moonlights || Katherine and Nightlight
theboyguardian
He felt her arm wind around him, and Nightlight latched onto the feeling like a lifeline. His own arms went to twine around her shoulders, pulling her against his chest and feeling her warmth bleed through the fabric of his borrowed clothes. His face found her hair, eyes clenched shut as he pressed his lips to her temple and remained there, frozen in his own moment of weakness as his Katherine comforted him. She was here now, she was safe, she was safe, she was safe. He neednât worry, for there was no force on Earth that could take her from him ever again; not now that heâd vowed to protect her to his last breath. He could protect her. The Guardians could protect her. The moonbeams and his Tsar could protect her. The Pitch had a real battle coming if he ever wanted to step between them again.
It took a few moments for his fear to subside, and it did, ebbing away slowly as he clutched Katherine close. Heâd never held someone like this before, and it wasâŚ. nice, albeit being such a foreign feeling. He felt naked without the casing of his armour, but not entirely unhappy. Things changed, after all, and heâd grown almost a head of height since heâd first pressed his lips to those of his Katherineâs. Change was coming, Bunnymund had told him, and Nightlight truly believed it.
He heard her speak, the words quiet despite the silence of the forest around them. Slowly, Nightlight nodded. Yes, sleeping felt like a task, and one that heâd not yet gotten used to. He was tired; his mind felt sluggish sometimes, his eyes felt gritty others, and always there was a weariness to him that no amount of movement could subside. But, the moment he tried to settle down for sleep, every part of him wished to stay awake. What if something happened?? What if he was needed??
Heâd never needed to sleep before, and everything that he was and ever had been protested against the idea.
'How do you fall asleep?'
How do you fall asleep? What a complicated question. Katherine was still in the middle of registering Nightlightâs lips pressed against her frons. She took a deep, quiet breath, and shut her eyes. This had been what she had been looking for, longing for, unable to find between the cotton sheets of her bed. Affection, closeness, and a kiss that was unlike the Goodnight Kiss, but still just as meaningful. Behind the kiss, though, Katherine could feel the groggy, weariness her friend was bearing. He was sleepy, and still didnât have enough experience with the sensation to identify it, she thought. Without moving, she released her breath, and smiled. âSometimes I think about what I did during my day,â She told him. Moonbeams paused to listen, dancing on waxy leaves as fog curled up from the ground. âI remember what it was like to climb the trees, or think about stories to tell.â Stories! The moonbeams wanted a story desperately. It was something that might help their friend with winding down, but also simply sounded exciting! A good story from a gentle, sweet voice sounded like the perfect cure for a restless Nightlight. Of course, in the process, the moonbeams might have ended up pretty calm, too. Katherine had that special sort of magic in her voice, to make people want to stop and listen. âSometimesâŚâ Katherine blushed, her voice soft. âSometimes, I daydream. I make up scenarios in my head that I would like to experience.â She opened an eye as the chill from the fog reached her ankles. It was late. Late enough that if North or Ombric went to check on her, that one, the other, or both, would potentially lose it. âDo you ever do that? Daydream about things that you want to do? Or things that you hope to do one day?â  Opening the other eye, Katherine adjusted her leg a little, so it wouldnât fall asleep. That was the last thing she needed while trying to get out of the tree later: A dead-leg that was all full of pins. No, thank you! Seemingly disappointed by the lack of story-telling on Katherineâs part, the moonbeams went back to playing their game of race-and-tag.
'Daydream?'Â
The concept seemed strange. How was dreaming at day different from dreaming at night? Did one have to be awake for a daydream? Was it any different from a normal dream? And how did one make up scenarios? Dreams were elusive things, so he'd been told, and though he wasn't sure he'd had any himself, he was pretty sure you weren't normally able to mold them into your own imaginations.Â
Frowning slightly, Nightlight shifted as his Katherine did. She must have gotten uncomfortable on the branch, he realized, and when she shifted he moved his cheek to rest against the side of her hair again. The moonbeams had paused in their game, their eagerness for a story tangible in the air, but when it became apparent that his Katherine didn't have a story for them they returned to their playing. For once, Nightlight didn't feel like joining them as he had before. He'd been full of energy then, eager to put it to good use, but as the night wore on he found that that energy had depleted rapidly. It had been past midnight when he'd sneaked out, but he knew not how much time had passed since then. The sky still seemed dark, an inky blackness twinkling with the specks of far off stars, and the pale white glow of the moon. If dawn was nearing, then it still had some way left to go. There was plenty of time before his Katherine had to sneak back inside Big Root, for Nightlight knew that North highly disapproved of her nightly ventures.Â
He didn't know why though.Â
Perhaps it was too cold? She definitely wasn't dressed as warmly as she should be. Or perhaps North simply worried that the darkness posed some threat? Well, not with Nightlight around! There was nothing in those shadows that could hurt his Katherine while she was at his side!Â
(The thought that, perhaps, North's disapproval came from Katherine sneaking away to spend her nights with Nightlight hadn't crossed the boy's mind, for he had yet to realize the implications behind their actions. Friends that spent time together seemed natural to Nightlight, who had no reason to believe that their unsupervised friendship would be the cause for North's concern.)Â
With his mind preoccupied with thoughts of North and his Katherine and the strange, strange concept of daydreams, Nightlight was taken by surprise when a cold breeze had him shivering violently. Cold! That was new as well! He'd never been bothered by the cold before, but now he was becoming chilled more and more often! He'd flown through space and over oceans and into the very heart of snow storms and never once felt such a chill as he did now!!Â
This change was a bothersome thing indeed!!Â