A/N: To preserve the authenticity of my dream, I have retained certain aspects that differ from those of the movie. Furthermore, this story is set in the wake of the Battle of Fire and Ice in The Burning, book six of the series.

Part of the conversation that takes place in the hollow was the basis for this story, which I thus expanded upon.

In this vision, Pellimore sounded more or less identical to Lena Headey, the actress widely known for her roles in 300 and Game of Thrones. Use that as a reference to obtain a solid grasp on her tone of voice.

The chilly, suppressive grip of the Time of the White Rain had descended upon the Southern Kingdoms. Its icy hand had stripped the Great Tree of its leaves and turned the countless Ga'Hoole berry vines dangling from its naked branches pure white.

The collective spirit of the Guardians and their scaled companions was not dampened by the change in season. The mood within the Great Tree remained upbeat, as if an invisible, jubilant veil had been woven by the owls and snakes residing within it and draped from its multitude of limbs.

On a particularly cold, blustery night, one of its feathered inhabitants was not feeling so jubilant.

Having slept fitfully the entire day, Soren awoke a short time after dusk. His mate, a sublime Tyto named Pellimore, slept on peacefully beside him.

They had since brought three enchanting female offspring into the world, whom they had named Bell, Blythe, and Sebastiana. Raising them was by no means a simple task, for they all exhibited a penchant for feisty behavior.

Their parents did not attempt to curtail their spirited demeanors for the most part, tempering their enthusiasm through sensible teaching when necessary. The three B's, as they were affectionately referred to, often left their parents weary in both mind and body.

Be that as it may, the numerous wonderful rewards conferred by parenthood far outweighed the stress that they were subjected to.

However, on that wintry night, Soren was suffering from a bout of anxiety of a different sort.

He carefully exited the nest and began pacing back and forth in the chamber. After fifteen seconds or so, his female counterpart stirred, casting off her unconsciousness with a yawn.

She blinked open her eyes and spread her wings in a glorious stretch. Fully alert, she refolded her wings.

Gazing at him, she said softly, "Good evening, Soren."

He paused and spun his head to port, meeting her gaze.

"Good evening, Pelli. Sorry for waking you," he said tersely, then resumed pacing.

Pelli did not take offense to his curtness.

"It's alright, Soren. I've had plenty of sleep anyhow."

Right away she could sense that his gizzard was quivering – and not in a positive way. Every so often, he would dip his head and tousle a certain patch of feathers on his wing.

Fussing with his port plummels… Pelli observed silently, wistfully.

That peculiar habit of his was proof that her mate was flustered.

She elected to wait and see if he revealed the source of his troubles on his own volition. If he was instead reluctant, she would motivate him to expose them.

As he strolled brusquely past in the direction of the hollow entrance, she stepped out of the nest and headed for the port hole.

A thick moss curtain affixed to the upper rim hung down, blocking the aperture; it was doing a decent job of keeping the warmth contained and the cold air at bay.

Parting the curtain with her starboard foot, Pelli stuck her head outside.

The Sea of Hoolemere, churned by the restless winds, was a dull gray expanse dotted with an armada of whitecaps.

The night sky was invisible, clogged by a sheet of murky, low-hanging clouds that stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions.

The Great Tree's crown of naked limbs swayed back and forth, bounced up and down, their slender tips almost grazing the smothering blanket above.

The assemblage of milkberry vines adorning those very limbs were being blown every which way, giving the impression they were dancing a strange jig.

Whenever a rather intense blast of wind swept across the island, the tree shifted a barely-perceptible amount, creaks and groans resonating throughout its massive trunk.

The sounds were not unsettling in the slightest; on the contrary, they were pleasing to hear.

Those drawn-out noises acted as a testament to its resilience, for the over one thousand year old wonder had effortlessly withstood the forces of nature and time.

A frigid gust laden with snowflakes collided with Pelli's facial disk. She swept her transparent third eyelids across the inky black spheres embedded in her ivory face.

Shaking her head briefly, she thought: this isn't exactly ideal weather, but then again, it could be worse. It's obvious he's not interested in an exciting night flight, unfortunately…

She retreated three paces, wiping away the ice crystals clinging to her head feathers with her starboard wing. Above the howl of the wind, Pelli could hear the distinctive tapping noise of Soren's talons striking the floor of the hollow.

His agitated pacing had not ceased, nor had he divulged what was unnerving him so. Inhaling a semi-deep breath, she casually commented: "I caught you fussing with your port plummels. Furthermore, there should never be secrets between mates."

He sighed in a somber manner.

Five, four, three, two, one…

He spoke the moment her countdown ended, as she knew he would: "Very well, I shall tell you what is bothering me."

As he reached the side of the hollow opposite the entrance, he inquired, "Why would you choose me as your mate?"

He reversed course, traipsing towards the mouth of the passage leading into the trunk of the Great Tree.

As he drew near it, he issued not a question, but a statement: "I'm worried my duties as a Guardian will restrict my ability to raise our owlets, not to mention provide you with the attention you deserve."

Retracing his steps, he approached the boundary of the hollow again.

It was then he summarized the reasoning behind his distraught demeanor: "What if… what if I'm unable to fulfill my responsibilities as a mate and a father? I can't bear the thought of being inadequate… of being a disappointment to you and our daughters…"

He reversed direction yet again. Pelli promptly twisted her head almost completely backwards, peering over her port shoulder at him.

"Soren," she said sternly, "stop and look at me."

He halted just as he reached the entrance and turned around. She bored into him with her lustrous onyx eyes that were so like his own.

"You mustn't say such foolish and unwarranted things."

He blinked, a flicker of guilt evident in the depths of his eyes.

Now that she had his attention, Pelli altered her tone from commanding to benevolent to help assuage his distress.

"It was you who rescued me from that raging forest fire in Ambala the previous Golden Rain. It was you who taught me how to read and write the wonderful language of Hoolian. And, most importantly…"

Her voice trailed off. She approached him boldly, and not once did they avert their eyes from one another.

Pelli planted herself directly in front of Soren, her breast feathers lightly contacting his.

"You were the one who captured my heart with your selflessness, charm, and adoration for literature. There is no male Tyto worthier of my love than you."

He inhaled and opened his beak. Before he managed to respond, she calmly rested her middle port talon on it.

"Allow me to say a few more remarks, then it shall be your turn to speak."

Soren snapped his beak shut and nodded once.

"You've proven yourself to be an excellent mate and father thus far. It is true that your obligations as a Guardian limit your opportunities for interacting with us. However, when you have been able to nurture our daughters and keep me company, you've performed splendidly in both regards. They, as well as I, are eternally grateful for your devotion. You mustn't be so hard on yourself."

Soren sighed a second time. Pelli interpreted this as him chiding himself and acknowledging her statements as reasonable. She lowered her port foot to the floor and eyed him expectantly.

"Forgive me for falling victim to self-doubt. It was foolish of me to believe I'd failed to meet your expectations. I can't say why such an impression came over me. Thanks to you, I am troubled no longer."

She rested her starboard foot on his port one in a touching gesture.

"You need not even apologize. Sometimes we are mysteries even to ourselves. I merely want you to be content, for that means I myself am content. As for repayment… promise me that you'll continue to spend what time you can spare with us – aside from that you wish to spend with your friends."

"On my honor, I promise, Pellimore."

Without warning, she locked beaks with him for ten luscious seconds. A wave of bliss swept through Soren, washing away the last traces of negativity lingering in his gizzard.

"Feeling better?"

"Certainly. Your lovely kisses are quite an effective cure."

She smirked.

"I suppose they could be considered… magical in nature."

He smiled.

"Very magical indeed."

His gizzard gave a playful twitch. He dared to propose one final dubious question to his mate.

"Are you still hopelessly in love with me, Pellimore?"

"Always and forever, Soren, for you are Glaux's divine gift to me."

"Ahh… how easily you cause my gizzard to tremble with joy."

"It seems my words are no less magical…"

"That they are not. You are likewise Glaux's marvelous gift to me…"

She nuzzled the golden rim of her facial disk against his, and he did not hesitate to return the favor.

"Come, my dear. Let us gather our daughters and partake in a delicious tweener together. Then we shall pay a visit to the library we are so fond of."

"I can think of no suggestions more delightful than those, my love."

With that, the pair of Tytos fetched their offspring from their hollow higher up the Great Tree, heading to the dining hollow afterwards.

They indulged in a savory meal consisting of roasted vole and milkberry tarts, with fresh-brewed milkberry tea as the beverage. They ate and drank to their hearts' content while engaging in cheerful conversation with the rest of the Band.

Once they'd had their fill, they retreated to the tome-filled treasure chamber in the heart of the Great Tree. Soren tracked down a very special tome, slid it off the shelf, and set it on the reading stand.

That tome just so happened to be named: The Legends of King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table.

The five owls happily delved into the story written by an enigmatic Other from a distant, and strange, past era.

It was his and Pelli's favorite, an ingredient of the catalyst that ignited their passion for one another. In addition, it played a part in the creation of the three wonderful beings standing next to them. Their triplet daughters had come to fancy it as much as their parents.

Pelli's comforting words echoing in Soren's mind, his gizzard now pulsated with a pleasant blend of elation and relief. It had indeed been foolish for him to downplay his contributions to them.

Yes, it was inevitable that he be apart from them regularly. Regardless, they would wait patiently for his return.

And when he did, he would uphold his vow.

For it was moments like these, when he and his kin were together, that he treasured most. Deep down in his merrily churning gizzard, Soren knew that they treasured every moment of their togetherness all the same.