Yeah I'm Smiling, But On The Inside I'm Dying (Jack Frost, Rise Of The Guardians FanFic)

The Reunion ~ Part 2 ~ Memory Or A Nightmare?

*+*+*+*Delilah's Dream*+*+*+*

*+*Omniscient's PoV*+*

*+*+*+*

A little baby, not even one year old, lay in a small red and gold cot, in a similar themed room. It was Christmas Eve, the night before the child's first birthday. Wrapped in a white blanket, the baby drooled as it slept, making little high-pitched sounds of contentment while hugging a small blue pillow. Above its head were little gold figures of smiling faces, snowflakes, crescent moons and presents.

On the couch pushed to side of the room, next to the stockings hanging on the gently lit fireplace, sat a - seemingly - middle aged woman that was dressed in a magnificent queen-style gown. Her platinum blonde hair shinned in the flickering light of the fire as her satin red dress shimmered and her white teeth gleamed in a proud smile. She watched the baby from afar, adoring its little dream. She was so caught up in watching the child, that she didn't notice the man walk in from the bedroom's door.

Finally seeing him, she took his huge hand as he helped her stand up. Although they had been married for many years now, the woman still admired her husband's tattoos. Of course, they were more than just ink in his skin. On both forearms, were a list. One arm was for all the nicest children in the world, and the other was for all the naughtiest children. Even if she looked closely, she could not read the writing on each arm because the print was so small, but there was no need - all she'd have to do was ask him and he would be able to recite every child on those lists and almost everything about them. Besides, they were changing each minute - swapping places as if it were a race.

The woman stared into her husband's eyes for a minute or so, caught up in all the joy and wonder swimming around in his bright blue iris', as if they were a window to his soul. Just thinking about what inventions of new toys for the children around the world that ran around in his mind still made her giddy on the inside. You see, being the Guardian of Wonder's soul mate has its effects. Even though she was not old, she was wise, and every time something new or wondrous came up, she would shiver in excitement.

"Good evening, my love." the husband greeted her with his thick Russian accent, kissing her hand as she watched him spoil her like royalty.

"Oh, Nicholas, you treat me too kindly," she sighed happily, "You treat me like royalty every time we meet, which is quite often, might I add."

"That is because you are, Sarah. I am the King of Christmas and Wonder, the Emperor of Joy and Gift Giving. You are my queen, and she is my princess." He turned them around and guided his wife to the cot.

Looking into the crib, Sarah sighed as she watched her daughter sleep. The golden sand above her head shifted into large heart shaped balloon, which seemed to be floating upward, although it remained in it's spot. The balloon swelled and got larger and larger, until suddenly, it burst. Golden snowflakes and bits of snow flew everywhere, leaving the air shimmering where it disappeared for a second.

"Watch this." Nicholas whispered to Sarah, so he wouldn't wake his daughter.

Slipping his fingers into one of his jacket's inner pocket, he pulled out a small corked vial with bright red liquid inside that shimmered green when light reflected from it. If you looked close enough, you could see the substance was not actually liquid; it was sand. After he twisted the cork out from the bottle's neck, he held his index finger over the vial's opening, and tilted the bottle upside down, then back up the right way again. When he pulled his finger away from the bottle, a tiny amount of the sand was sprinkled on the tip of his finger.

Sarah stared at her husband's finger in wonder, trying to anticipate what the strange sand from the vial would do. She watched as he re-corked the bottle and returned it into his jacket's pocket with his other hand, then as he learned over into the cot. The finger with the unusual substance was stretched out as if he was pointing, and moved closer to the baby's dream.