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squeaklingsTitle: The Strongest Wishes Take the Longest
Wordcount: 1053
Fandom: Rise of the Guardians
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death
Summary: "Why?" he asks the Man in the Moon silently. "Why did you not bless her, too?"
Notes: Bookverse, and an idea I had after listening to somewhat sad lullabies.
He sits beside her bed, his light dimmed to a mere glow, shadows swaying gently against the walls and corners, for once no malice to be found in their movements. Even the Nightmare King respects this night.
Katherine sighs and turns her head, white hair lost against her white pillow. Nightlight gently brushes bangs from her face, his spectral fingers cool against her flushed skin.
“Thank you,” she says in a whisper he understands more than simply hears. Even her voice is tired, as dim as he is.
The others come by, one by one. They sit on her other side, talk to her of old times and great adventures. Ombric reads her stories and Qwerty corrects him. Sascha, Petter, all the Williams and all the others, old playmates and friends come and chat, their voices hushed. North is older but still hale, and has been far longer than most humans should remain. Nightlight senses the magic in him he’s never felt from Katherine, the touch of the Golden Age. Toothiana and Bunnymund look the same as they ever have. Of the Guardians, only Katherine has changed.
Nightlight looks up at his old benefactor during the times Katherine is sleeping peacefully with dreams provided by the Sandman. After Katherine, Nightlight likes the silent man the most, sharing memories of galaxies and stars, of a time before Pitch and nightmares. Don’t worry, Sandy has always told him, in thoughts and feelings but never words, but Nightlight is not the boy he once was and he can’t help but worry. And his worries have grown with each passing year, with every wrinkle and grey hair.
Why? he asks the Man in the Moon silently, his hands gripping the diamond dagger. His moonbeam friend looks on, helpless. Why did you not bless her, too? But the moonbeams bring no message from the Tsar, and Nightlight’s light dims even more.
She wakes later in the night, pale and wane but with a smile on her face as she sees her friend. She lifts a trembling hand and he takes it, scared at how cold she feels.
“Thank you,” she says again, but he hears only “Goodbye.” The light in her eyes fades and she closes them slowly with a long, relieved sigh. Beyond the open balcony window Kailash lets out a long, sorrowful cry that echoes throughout all of Santoff Claussen. Even the shadows still completely, the force of Nightlight’s grief enough to give them pause, but they flee as a lone, bright moonbeam sweeps into the room. Nightlight doesn’t acknowledge it—he’s never turned his back to the Man in the Moon, and the moonbeam hesitates.
It’ll be all right, he hears Sandy’s thoughts again, full of love and dreams and wishes. The moonbeam shines on Katherine’s face, illuminating every line and wrinkle before the light washes everything out. Nightlight jumps to his feet, the chair tumbling backwards with a crash to break the silence. Footsteps echo below, coming closer, but Nightlight hears nothing and instead stands transfixed, staff held loosely in his hands as his moonbeam friend dances within the dagger.
Through the burst of silver-white light he sees her.
She stands across from him, a lovely young woman with long, dark, curly hair and bright eyes that are too old for her now-young face. The bed lies empty between them, rumpled covers and an indented pillow the only proof she’d lain there moments before. Without thought and with his staff still in hand, Nightlight jumps the bed and pulls her into a tight embrace, and Katherine clings back just as strongly.
The doors burst open just then and North and Ombric, Bunnymund and Toothiana all fall through, their faces streaked with tears. The moonbeam’s light dims from blinding to bright, and they stare in wonder and awe at the woman now laughing with joy in Nightlight’s arms. A presence fills the room as the Guardians scramble to their feet, and though they can’t see him, the Man in the Moon’s voice echoes in their hearts.
“I am sorry we took so long,” he says, and there is sorrow but also joy in his voice. “Some wishes take longer to come true.”
Nightlight pulls away from Katherine slightly, just enough to see the last few grains of Dreamsand sparkle and disappear into her body. His inner light glows brightly as a warm, golden glow fills the room. The Sandman stands at the open window, a smile on his face, tendrils of sand swirling around him in beautiful patterns. He opens his arms and Katherine pulls away from Nightlight to run and give the tiny Guardian a hug. Sandman pats her hair and looks over her shoulder at the spectral young man and beckons.
His light dimming slightly, Nightlight makes his way past the others and kneels before the ancient dreamer. Don’t worry, he’d said, and yet Nightlight hadn’t believed. His hand tightens around his staff and his moonbeam friend pulses softly. Katherine releases Sandy and sits beside her friend, a reassuring hand on his arm.
Nightlight rarely speaks, preferring emotions and thoughts to the limitations words bring. But as he kneels in the light of the Man in the Moon and before the Guardian of Dreams, his head bowed, his voice echoes like the bite of frost on a winter’s day and pure, silver starlight in the sudden stillness.
“I doubted. Forgive me.”
Sandy’s smile is radiant as he pulls the young man into an embrace. And then North is there, lifting the both of them up in his strong arms and nearly crushing them with the force of his hug, his voice booming all around them.
And then everyone is there, crying and laughing, their voices all blurring together into something unintelligible and yet perfectly understandable. And Katherine is beside him, shoulder to shoulder as she takes one of his hands in one of hers, their fingers laced tightly together. There is a glow about her now, a feeling of newly-bloomed magic, but not the same as North’s or Ombric’s. It’s the feeling he got whenever she told her stories, when she painted pictures with her words and made the ethereal feel real. But it’s also the feeling of dreams and hope and wonder, memories and light.
And love.
There has always been love.
Wordcount: 1053
Fandom: Rise of the Guardians
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death
Summary: "Why?" he asks the Man in the Moon silently. "Why did you not bless her, too?"
Notes: Bookverse, and an idea I had after listening to somewhat sad lullabies.
He sits beside her bed, his light dimmed to a mere glow, shadows swaying gently against the walls and corners, for once no malice to be found in their movements. Even the Nightmare King respects this night.
Katherine sighs and turns her head, white hair lost against her white pillow. Nightlight gently brushes bangs from her face, his spectral fingers cool against her flushed skin.
“Thank you,” she says in a whisper he understands more than simply hears. Even her voice is tired, as dim as he is.
The others come by, one by one. They sit on her other side, talk to her of old times and great adventures. Ombric reads her stories and Qwerty corrects him. Sascha, Petter, all the Williams and all the others, old playmates and friends come and chat, their voices hushed. North is older but still hale, and has been far longer than most humans should remain. Nightlight senses the magic in him he’s never felt from Katherine, the touch of the Golden Age. Toothiana and Bunnymund look the same as they ever have. Of the Guardians, only Katherine has changed.
Nightlight looks up at his old benefactor during the times Katherine is sleeping peacefully with dreams provided by the Sandman. After Katherine, Nightlight likes the silent man the most, sharing memories of galaxies and stars, of a time before Pitch and nightmares. Don’t worry, Sandy has always told him, in thoughts and feelings but never words, but Nightlight is not the boy he once was and he can’t help but worry. And his worries have grown with each passing year, with every wrinkle and grey hair.
Why? he asks the Man in the Moon silently, his hands gripping the diamond dagger. His moonbeam friend looks on, helpless. Why did you not bless her, too? But the moonbeams bring no message from the Tsar, and Nightlight’s light dims even more.
She wakes later in the night, pale and wane but with a smile on her face as she sees her friend. She lifts a trembling hand and he takes it, scared at how cold she feels.
“Thank you,” she says again, but he hears only “Goodbye.” The light in her eyes fades and she closes them slowly with a long, relieved sigh. Beyond the open balcony window Kailash lets out a long, sorrowful cry that echoes throughout all of Santoff Claussen. Even the shadows still completely, the force of Nightlight’s grief enough to give them pause, but they flee as a lone, bright moonbeam sweeps into the room. Nightlight doesn’t acknowledge it—he’s never turned his back to the Man in the Moon, and the moonbeam hesitates.
It’ll be all right, he hears Sandy’s thoughts again, full of love and dreams and wishes. The moonbeam shines on Katherine’s face, illuminating every line and wrinkle before the light washes everything out. Nightlight jumps to his feet, the chair tumbling backwards with a crash to break the silence. Footsteps echo below, coming closer, but Nightlight hears nothing and instead stands transfixed, staff held loosely in his hands as his moonbeam friend dances within the dagger.
Through the burst of silver-white light he sees her.
She stands across from him, a lovely young woman with long, dark, curly hair and bright eyes that are too old for her now-young face. The bed lies empty between them, rumpled covers and an indented pillow the only proof she’d lain there moments before. Without thought and with his staff still in hand, Nightlight jumps the bed and pulls her into a tight embrace, and Katherine clings back just as strongly.
The doors burst open just then and North and Ombric, Bunnymund and Toothiana all fall through, their faces streaked with tears. The moonbeam’s light dims from blinding to bright, and they stare in wonder and awe at the woman now laughing with joy in Nightlight’s arms. A presence fills the room as the Guardians scramble to their feet, and though they can’t see him, the Man in the Moon’s voice echoes in their hearts.
“I am sorry we took so long,” he says, and there is sorrow but also joy in his voice. “Some wishes take longer to come true.”
Nightlight pulls away from Katherine slightly, just enough to see the last few grains of Dreamsand sparkle and disappear into her body. His inner light glows brightly as a warm, golden glow fills the room. The Sandman stands at the open window, a smile on his face, tendrils of sand swirling around him in beautiful patterns. He opens his arms and Katherine pulls away from Nightlight to run and give the tiny Guardian a hug. Sandman pats her hair and looks over her shoulder at the spectral young man and beckons.
His light dimming slightly, Nightlight makes his way past the others and kneels before the ancient dreamer. Don’t worry, he’d said, and yet Nightlight hadn’t believed. His hand tightens around his staff and his moonbeam friend pulses softly. Katherine releases Sandy and sits beside her friend, a reassuring hand on his arm.
Nightlight rarely speaks, preferring emotions and thoughts to the limitations words bring. But as he kneels in the light of the Man in the Moon and before the Guardian of Dreams, his head bowed, his voice echoes like the bite of frost on a winter’s day and pure, silver starlight in the sudden stillness.
“I doubted. Forgive me.”
Sandy’s smile is radiant as he pulls the young man into an embrace. And then North is there, lifting the both of them up in his strong arms and nearly crushing them with the force of his hug, his voice booming all around them.
And then everyone is there, crying and laughing, their voices all blurring together into something unintelligible and yet perfectly understandable. And Katherine is beside him, shoulder to shoulder as she takes one of his hands in one of hers, their fingers laced tightly together. There is a glow about her now, a feeling of newly-bloomed magic, but not the same as North’s or Ombric’s. It’s the feeling he got whenever she told her stories, when she painted pictures with her words and made the ethereal feel real. But it’s also the feeling of dreams and hope and wonder, memories and light.
And love.
There has always been love.
