[FIC] - Lapidary (RotG, Quicksand, 1/2)
For Fox.
He comes to suddenly, too suddenly, and he inhales a mouthful of sand. Sandy rolls into a seated position as he hacks the grit from his throat and looks around. He's back at his island, and it's twilight as usual, but everything -- the sand and ocean, his castle -- are all washed out to a neutral grey, bereft of colour.
Sandy is the same grey. And something is missing, something he's had for as long as he can remember, even before he woke up on this little blue-green planet. He feels hollow, empty of a dynamism he's never given any thought to before.
The last thing he remembers is fighting back the nightmares, Jack whizzing around him, and then-
He scrambles to his feet, reaching for where he knows Pitch's bolt had pierced him in the back, but he finds nothing. There is no wound or rip in his robe.
Sandy frowns and glances up. Even his castle feels destitute. None of the usual sounds of the place are present, the lulling caress of waves lapping against the shore or gentle song of the soothing mermaids from the cove.
He trudges closer, eyeing the looming shell-shaped towers warily as he approaches. Still there is no one, nothing else here other than him. Sandy hesitates before entering, his eyes darting around. The warm glow of his home is missing; the place is riddled with shadow. He takes a reluctant step over the threshold.
An invisible force shoves him forward, or rather, jerks him further in, and he just catches himself before he trips to the the ground. He spins around, looking for the intruder, but a shrill shrieking fills the air. Cages upon cages filled with Tooth's little fairies surround him, and Sandy realizes he's somehow stumbled into Pitch's lair.
The doorway leading back to his island remains open, and he makes a break for the exit. Just before he passes through though, he freezes in place, no longer able to push beyond the barrier as a glass manacle appears around first one wrist, then the other. The chains are thick but transparent delicate looking. He tries to shove his way past, shatter the glass, but they hold fast. When he tries to get a foot through the door, his ankle is cuffed.
He's yanked to the floor, the chains tinkling daintily despite their strength. Sandy glances back to find they disappear off into the darkness. The restraints begin to fade away as he sits there.
The fairies continue to chirp desperately at him. Sandy's eyes dart to them, and he shakes his head, shrugging helplessly.
"Be quiet!" the Nightmare King roars. The fairies shrink away in terror, and Pitch steals into the open, flinging his hands out. The cages are swallowed up by the shadows and the place falls quiet. He sneers down at Sandy, folding his arms behind his back as he moves closer. "I should've known I couldn't take you out permanently. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be off trying to save Easter?"
Sandy stands, his frown deepening as his gaze flicks down to his hands then back up to Pitch. He tries to push his hands past the door and the glass bracelets reappear around his wrists. He raises an eyebrow and holds his hands out for Pitch to examine.
Pitch's own brows fly up in surprise, but he reaches out and scratches a fingernail across the cuff, then his lips curl into an amused and sadistic smile. "And what do you want me to do about it?"
Sandy drops his hands to his sides in a huff and glares at Pitch.
"I have done nothing to bind you here," Pitch says. He ruffles the guardian's hair as he steps over the chain, chuckling darkly as Sandy jerks away. "So, then. Why are you here?"
Sandy's skeptical eyes widen, but then he presses his lips together angrily and jabs a finger toward the door. Pitch glances in the direction indicated and he stops, surprise etched across his face. He rounds on Sandy, his stare hardening as he growls, "What did you do? How are we on your island and in my lair?"
The guardian's mouth falls open and he gapes at Pitch in disbelief. Then he crosses his arms over his chest and plops glumly to the floor.
That makes Pitch pause. "It isn't like you to just-" he waves his hand around "-give up. You've got the chains; where are your whips? And-" he stoops over and regards the guardian, "-why do you all of a sudden look so dreary?"
His eyes narrowing, Sandy looks Pitch over from head to toe then back; he snorts, but he pulls from the familiar well within him and conjures dreamsand into his hand, willing it to form into a puppy. The silvery grains cascade lifelessly to the ground. His brows draw together in annoyance as he tries once more, concentrating this time on a rocket ship. His frustration grows as he fails again. He tosses the sand to the ground and stomps on it.
Pitch snickers, his hand coming up to cover his mouth when Sandy glares at him. Anger and determination settle across the guardian's features, and he bites at his lip as he endeavors to shape the sand. This time, he manages to create a little horse, and he beams proudly, displaying the figure to Pitch.
The horse stands motionless upon his palm though, and Sandy's expression crumbles.
But Pitch cocks his head to the side, studying the little half-formed dream with a detached look in his eyes. He pokes at it, and Sandy expects the sand to fall away; instead, the little horse rears up, tossing it's mane and whickering softly before prancing across the air into Pitch's hand.
As Sandy watches, the little creature corrodes, the sand that forms it turning black. He glances back and forth between the Nightmare King and the tiny nightmare that dances across his pale knuckles, unable to comprehend what is happening.
"Well, that is most interesting," Pitch says, his smirk twisting with malice. His face lights up with something nearing triumph, and he drops to his knees beside Sandy. "I've managed to corrupt you after all!"
Sandy shakes his head vehemently, then points at his heart.
"What, you think I have no heart? No center? Really, then how else could I have remained here all these years, waiting for my chance?" Pitch throws his head back and cackles. He sobers quickly enough and fixes Sandy in place with an intimidating stare. "You can feel it though, can't you, like you're waiting to be filled?"
The shadows flare around them, and startled, Sandy shuffles away. His chains flicker back into reality though, stopping him in his tracks.
Pitch wraps his fingers around them, and the glass links jangle together as he hauls Sandy back to him. "Your center is there, but you're nothing more than an empty vessel-"
Sandy stills as the words sink in, and he lays there on the stone floor, staring up at Pitch as realization dawns upon him.
And Pitch continues to speak even though he's lost in his own thoughts now. "-without purpose. Hollow."
Sorrow fills Sandy, but he feels oddly detached from it. Still, he pushes onto his hands and knees, lets the heartache move him to Pitch. The other spirit seems to be staring straight through Sandy, so he waves a hand in front of Pitch's face. Silvery-gold eyes come back into sharp focus, and Sandy presses his palm to Pitch's heart then lets it fall away before gesturing at the darkness around them.
Pitch's eyes dart away, and he jeers, "It was hard enough trying to understand you before, but without your sand language, I don't-"
Rolling his eyes, Sandy stands up. He grabs Pitch's face and makes the Nightmare King look at him. Then he lifts his eyebrows, no judgment upon his face, just curiosity.
With a sigh, Pitch drops the chains and they fade back into obscurity. "Yes, this happened to me too. I'm talking about myself. Are you happy now?"
Sandy puffs his cheeks out slightly, but he gives a short nod. He's unprepared for the way Pitch drops forward, deflating as though he's relieved. Arms wind around him, and when Sandy returns the embrace, Pitch rests his forehead against the guardian's chest, muttering almost too softly for Sandy to hear, "I'm sorry.".
Sandy shakes his head, then realizes Pitch can't see him and give him an encouraging pat to the back.
"Right then," Pitch says, his tone biting as he pushes away. He rocks back onto his heels, then sits on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. "Go on, oh beloved Guardian of Dreams, give it try. Instead of painting pretty little fantasies, dig into that deep, forsaken void and build a real nightmare...." Part 2
He comes to suddenly, too suddenly, and he inhales a mouthful of sand. Sandy rolls into a seated position as he hacks the grit from his throat and looks around. He's back at his island, and it's twilight as usual, but everything -- the sand and ocean, his castle -- are all washed out to a neutral grey, bereft of colour.
Sandy is the same grey. And something is missing, something he's had for as long as he can remember, even before he woke up on this little blue-green planet. He feels hollow, empty of a dynamism he's never given any thought to before.
The last thing he remembers is fighting back the nightmares, Jack whizzing around him, and then-
He scrambles to his feet, reaching for where he knows Pitch's bolt had pierced him in the back, but he finds nothing. There is no wound or rip in his robe.
Sandy frowns and glances up. Even his castle feels destitute. None of the usual sounds of the place are present, the lulling caress of waves lapping against the shore or gentle song of the soothing mermaids from the cove.
He trudges closer, eyeing the looming shell-shaped towers warily as he approaches. Still there is no one, nothing else here other than him. Sandy hesitates before entering, his eyes darting around. The warm glow of his home is missing; the place is riddled with shadow. He takes a reluctant step over the threshold.
An invisible force shoves him forward, or rather, jerks him further in, and he just catches himself before he trips to the the ground. He spins around, looking for the intruder, but a shrill shrieking fills the air. Cages upon cages filled with Tooth's little fairies surround him, and Sandy realizes he's somehow stumbled into Pitch's lair.
The doorway leading back to his island remains open, and he makes a break for the exit. Just before he passes through though, he freezes in place, no longer able to push beyond the barrier as a glass manacle appears around first one wrist, then the other. The chains are thick but transparent delicate looking. He tries to shove his way past, shatter the glass, but they hold fast. When he tries to get a foot through the door, his ankle is cuffed.
He's yanked to the floor, the chains tinkling daintily despite their strength. Sandy glances back to find they disappear off into the darkness. The restraints begin to fade away as he sits there.
The fairies continue to chirp desperately at him. Sandy's eyes dart to them, and he shakes his head, shrugging helplessly.
"Be quiet!" the Nightmare King roars. The fairies shrink away in terror, and Pitch steals into the open, flinging his hands out. The cages are swallowed up by the shadows and the place falls quiet. He sneers down at Sandy, folding his arms behind his back as he moves closer. "I should've known I couldn't take you out permanently. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be off trying to save Easter?"
Sandy stands, his frown deepening as his gaze flicks down to his hands then back up to Pitch. He tries to push his hands past the door and the glass bracelets reappear around his wrists. He raises an eyebrow and holds his hands out for Pitch to examine.
Pitch's own brows fly up in surprise, but he reaches out and scratches a fingernail across the cuff, then his lips curl into an amused and sadistic smile. "And what do you want me to do about it?"
Sandy drops his hands to his sides in a huff and glares at Pitch.
"I have done nothing to bind you here," Pitch says. He ruffles the guardian's hair as he steps over the chain, chuckling darkly as Sandy jerks away. "So, then. Why are you here?"
Sandy's skeptical eyes widen, but then he presses his lips together angrily and jabs a finger toward the door. Pitch glances in the direction indicated and he stops, surprise etched across his face. He rounds on Sandy, his stare hardening as he growls, "What did you do? How are we on your island and in my lair?"
The guardian's mouth falls open and he gapes at Pitch in disbelief. Then he crosses his arms over his chest and plops glumly to the floor.
That makes Pitch pause. "It isn't like you to just-" he waves his hand around "-give up. You've got the chains; where are your whips? And-" he stoops over and regards the guardian, "-why do you all of a sudden look so dreary?"
His eyes narrowing, Sandy looks Pitch over from head to toe then back; he snorts, but he pulls from the familiar well within him and conjures dreamsand into his hand, willing it to form into a puppy. The silvery grains cascade lifelessly to the ground. His brows draw together in annoyance as he tries once more, concentrating this time on a rocket ship. His frustration grows as he fails again. He tosses the sand to the ground and stomps on it.
Pitch snickers, his hand coming up to cover his mouth when Sandy glares at him. Anger and determination settle across the guardian's features, and he bites at his lip as he endeavors to shape the sand. This time, he manages to create a little horse, and he beams proudly, displaying the figure to Pitch.
The horse stands motionless upon his palm though, and Sandy's expression crumbles.
But Pitch cocks his head to the side, studying the little half-formed dream with a detached look in his eyes. He pokes at it, and Sandy expects the sand to fall away; instead, the little horse rears up, tossing it's mane and whickering softly before prancing across the air into Pitch's hand.
As Sandy watches, the little creature corrodes, the sand that forms it turning black. He glances back and forth between the Nightmare King and the tiny nightmare that dances across his pale knuckles, unable to comprehend what is happening.
"Well, that is most interesting," Pitch says, his smirk twisting with malice. His face lights up with something nearing triumph, and he drops to his knees beside Sandy. "I've managed to corrupt you after all!"
Sandy shakes his head vehemently, then points at his heart.
"What, you think I have no heart? No center? Really, then how else could I have remained here all these years, waiting for my chance?" Pitch throws his head back and cackles. He sobers quickly enough and fixes Sandy in place with an intimidating stare. "You can feel it though, can't you, like you're waiting to be filled?"
The shadows flare around them, and startled, Sandy shuffles away. His chains flicker back into reality though, stopping him in his tracks.
Pitch wraps his fingers around them, and the glass links jangle together as he hauls Sandy back to him. "Your center is there, but you're nothing more than an empty vessel-"
Sandy stills as the words sink in, and he lays there on the stone floor, staring up at Pitch as realization dawns upon him.
And Pitch continues to speak even though he's lost in his own thoughts now. "-without purpose. Hollow."
Sorrow fills Sandy, but he feels oddly detached from it. Still, he pushes onto his hands and knees, lets the heartache move him to Pitch. The other spirit seems to be staring straight through Sandy, so he waves a hand in front of Pitch's face. Silvery-gold eyes come back into sharp focus, and Sandy presses his palm to Pitch's heart then lets it fall away before gesturing at the darkness around them.
Pitch's eyes dart away, and he jeers, "It was hard enough trying to understand you before, but without your sand language, I don't-"
Rolling his eyes, Sandy stands up. He grabs Pitch's face and makes the Nightmare King look at him. Then he lifts his eyebrows, no judgment upon his face, just curiosity.
With a sigh, Pitch drops the chains and they fade back into obscurity. "Yes, this happened to me too. I'm talking about myself. Are you happy now?"
Sandy puffs his cheeks out slightly, but he gives a short nod. He's unprepared for the way Pitch drops forward, deflating as though he's relieved. Arms wind around him, and when Sandy returns the embrace, Pitch rests his forehead against the guardian's chest, muttering almost too softly for Sandy to hear, "I'm sorry.".
Sandy shakes his head, then realizes Pitch can't see him and give him an encouraging pat to the back.
"Right then," Pitch says, his tone biting as he pushes away. He rocks back onto his heels, then sits on the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. "Go on, oh beloved Guardian of Dreams, give it try. Instead of painting pretty little fantasies, dig into that deep, forsaken void and build a real nightmare...." Part 2