Chapter 2
The local markets were always full of beautiful sounds and smells. This was how a day in the life of Jack Frost would typically begin. Although the winter spirit craved adventure and fun, it seemed as though his life was the same day in and day out; a routine that was impossible to escape. The towns he visited were almost always pleasant, though, and he enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the inhabitants. This town, in particular, was growing rather familiar to him; he had been here on more than one occasion. As often as he could, Jack liked to venture out to new cities just for the sake of exploring, but he'd felt exhausted this morning and had already been near by. Adventure took far too much effort when he'd hardly slept a wink.
It was nearly impossible for him to pinpoint his favorite thing about going into town. The conversations that people carried were so entertaining; he wondered if he would argue about the same silly things that they did had he anyone to talk to. Some of the things they said were also interesting and fascinating. It seemed that there was always something new to be learned about the world. Sometimes, although they never realized it, the people acknowledged him.
"John Clancy was in the woods just yesterday. You know he says he saw snow on the ground?" one of the humans said, stopping Jack in his tracks. Keeping a fair distance from the pair of men, he leaned on a wine barrel to listen in.
"Well, John's a crazy old kook," the other replied, "but I've heard it from a lot of people. Don't you think it's a little late in the year for snow?"
Jack grinned, satisfied that someone had noticed his work. "That was me!" he cheered as if the men were listening. "I did that!"
"The darn stuff's likely to put off any crops this year."
At this Jack frowned. "Well no one asked for your opinion anyway."
What might they think if he summoned a heavy snowfall right this second? He often considered doing such things to those who scorned his work, but rarely gave into the urge. Although he hadn't heard a peep from the moon in seven years now, he still felt the heavy gaze as it watched his every move. Perhaps, though, the moon wouldn't object to a simply chilly wind. Willing to take whatever punishment the moon might give, Jack sent a strong gust at the two men, causing them both to jump at the cold. No harm had been done; it was all in fun to him.
"Mama, did you hear that?" a small boy asked, tugging on his mother's skirt. "There's snow! Can I go play in it?"
The young ones always appreciated Jack's talents; they made it all seem worth while to him. They'd run around and play for hours until their lips turned blue and their tiny noses were red like cherries. Even as they shook and shivered from the cold, their mothers had to drag them inside to warm up.
"I wouldn't dream of letting you do such a thing, Bartholomew; you just got over your last cold," his mother said sharply. "Besides, you know that we always have special family time on Saturdays."
Jack's smile slowly faded, while the young boy's only grew.
"Oh yeah!" he exclaimed. "What are we doing tonight?"
"A good deal of fun things, I'm sure," the mother replied, waving him to come along with her. Filled with excitement, the boy ran to catch up, grabbing her hand as they passed through him. Jack felt nauseous. The narrow, stone-paved street suddenly seemed bigger, fuller, and he felt smaller. The most difficult part about going into town was realizing that all of the wonderful things he saw would continue on whether he was there or not. While the people and children had meaning to him and brought him joy, he was nothing to them-completely insignificant.
"I should know better by now," he mumbled to himself. This, of course, was a near-daily occurrence. Civilization - people in general - were roses to him; so beautiful to look at, but with painful side-effects when he got too close. Clearly he'd overstayed his welcome today' it was all dumb luck, really - hearing those conversations. Even so, it felt like a personal jab at him, like the universe wanted to remind him that he was invisible, unappreciated and alone. With impeccable timing, the wind ruffled through the trees as if to agree that all of those things were true. "Some friend you are."
The wind only blew harder, nearly knocking him off of his branch and sparking more frustration. "What are you trying to do here, anyway? It's like you want me to go…" he trailed off then, noticing the wind's direction: South. Now he knew that it was foolish to talk to the wind as if it had a mind of its own, but sometimes he truly did question the matter. If the wind hadn't any thoughts, then it would be his own fault for considering returning to that tower right now. "Oh, you want me to go back there? Not happening."
Without cease, the wind continued to blow. It cared not what he thought; it had already made its choice, and South it was. Well, Jack wasn't going to have it. Going back to that place wasn't on his agenda. He didn't need consistency - he didn't want consistency. With his particular lifestyle, it would only bring pain. "Would you quit it? You know, it'd be easier if you were on my side, but I can fly either way."
The South wind stung against his face, but Jack was just as stubborn. He wasn't about to let his actions be dictated for him. The last thing that he needed was to go back to that peculiar tower and its peculiar inhabitants. Instead, he would go North - maybe discover some new places and things. There was a whole world out there to be explored; he hadn't the time to hang around in one place. Oh, but the wind was strong. Even as he defied it, he unknowingly lost. The strong currents flipped and turned him, and when he took hold of a tree limb to look around - feeling clever for outsmarting the wind - he found himself in perfect view of the tower.
"Now how did you manage that?" Jack asked, half-grinning at his whistling friend as he noticed that his proximity was even closer than before. "I told you, I'm not going back."
Now he truly wasn't sure if it was the wind or his own mind questioning why, if he was so intent on not going back, he hadn't left yet. It was honestly a good question. Seconds passed, and then minutes without him moving an inch. So what was he to do? Although running away from this place would save him a lot of pain, deep down he wanted to go back. He was curious; a girl with glowing hair hair was far more interesting than any new town. There was no harm in a little entertainment.
Chuckling to himself, Jack looked up. "Alright, you win."
He bounded from the tree to the soft, green grass just below the tower. Leaning steadily against his trusty staff, Jack looked up. He hoped that he wasn't making a huge mistake by doing this. Out of all the humans that he'd come across, he'd never dared to enter their homes and hadn't even considered returning just for the sake of seeing them again. It was too late to question anything, though; he'd made his decision. With all of his doubts behind him, he flew up to the window and peered inside.
"Just a quick visit," he mumbled to himself as he scanned the room for the long-haired Rapunzel.
"Don't think I don't see you there," came a voice from nowhere. Rapunzel popped up like a daisy into the window sill. "Are you always going to hide here?"
"What?" he gasped, backing away in disbelief. Could she really see him? But how…? He inched closer to her. "How is that even-"
"Found you!" she sang playfully, leaning around the corner and picking up a small creature between her fingers. "You're a chameleon, you're way smaller than me, and you don't have all this hair to hide. One might think you'd win a little more often, Pascal."
Jack's brows furrowed in confusion. "Wait, are you talking to the lizard?"
She turned her back on him, disappearing into the tower once again. Feeling only a bit let down - and quite foolish - Jack followed her in, perching once again on one of the many beams in the ceiling. From what he could gather, her mother wasn't here. He didn't mind that one bit, though; he wasn't sure how he felt about her. Rapunzel, on the other hand, was quite amusing. She fluttered about all day, chit-chatting with her lizard friend, Pascal, and finding clever ways to entertain herself. In a way, he was reminded of himself. She continued for a bit with her games of hide and seek, but after four more victories she called it off. With Pascal sitting loyally on her shoulder, she walked to a shelf of books. It was an effort for him to see what exactly she was doing as she swiped a few books and carried them to a cushy chair. She opened one of the books and sank into her seat, but as she did so he felt more than he was watching her sink into the story. She didn't fidget - not even a bit. It was as if she was no longer in the outside world. It was fascinating; Jack wondered what could possibly be so interesting that it commanded her attention in that way. He'd never really looked at a book before; maybe if he just saw what was inside he would understand. Maybe he'd love it as much as Rapunzel did. Moving from the ceiling beam for the first time, he lowered himself to the ground, tiptoeing across the stone floors that were as cold as his own feet. He didn't know why he was sneaking like this; it just felt so intrusive to be walking around where he wasn't welcome.
He found the perfect view of the pages when he knelt down at the side of the chair. Seeing them, though, he became confused; he had no idea what they said. He'd never learned to read - he'd never been taught - but somehow he thought that it might just come to him. No, he had absolutely no clue what any of the funny looking symbols meant. He may have returned to his comfortable place above in disappointment had he not caught an up-close glimpse of Rapunzel's face. Although he was aware of her beauty, it was the way that her face was so invested in the book that he was truly caught up in. It almost told the story on its own. She was so expressive - so animated with her emotions. Rather than focusing on what the story was about, he focused on her mannerisms as she read - the way that her brow would furrow when something bad happened; the way that her nose crinkled ever-so-slightly from time to time; the way that at some points her mouth would stretch into a lovely smile. She probably wasn't aware of it at all, and if he hadn't been there, nobody else would have been either.
He'd been here for a fair amount of time now and so far hadn't seen any glowing hair. That was his reason for returning, wasn't it? Because it was honestly the most mind-blowing thing that he'd ever seen? That, of course, wasn't to discredit the incredible length of her locks. That was an entirely different kind of impressive. In everything that she did, she skillfully managed to work around it all. He could learn a thing or two from her and put it to use during his visits to town as he attempted to dodge people (to no avail).
"Rapunzel, let down your hair!"
Speaking of the glowing hair, he had a feeling that he might be seeing that very soon. If he remembered correctly, it was the mother who initiated whatever it was that the hair did yesterday.
"I brought home lunch, dear," the mother said as she climbed in. She handed a small basket to Rapunzel, who took it as eagerly as she had jumped out of her chair to throw her hair out the window. The two sit down at the small table on the far side of the room and begin their meal. Jack had witnessed many a meal shared by families, but he immediately could tell that this was one different because he didn't envy Rapunzel's family dynamic at all. She was constantly being talked over and having her words be completely ignored. Until now, Jack had never met a family that he didn't want to be a part of.
"...and then I had to run all the way to the cheese vendor on the opposite side of the market. From all that moving about I'm surprised that I still look so radiant. And what have you been doing today? Did you do your chores, darling?"
"Yes, Mother," Rapunzel replied. "I did a little reading too."
"Oh, very good, very good," her mother nodded. "What did you read?"
"I started The Prince," she said, and then giggled guiltily. "Again…"
"As I recall, you read that book just last week, didn't you? It must be one of your little favorites. Ah, my Rapunzel is such a reader," the curly haired woman leaned across the table to pinch Rapunzel's cheeks.
"Actually, Mother," Rapunzel mumbled, still laughing quietly, "it's just that I've already read each of the books several-"
"Hm? What's that, dear? I can't hear you properly when you mumble like that."
Jack rolled his eyes. He was ready to pull his hair out, and if Rapunzel felt the same way - well, she would be in for a lot more work than he would. He was tired of this woman after just moments of her presence; he couldn't imagine living with her. Then again, it seemed that she was hardly ever present; she hadn't been in all day.
"Well, darling," the woman wiped her mouth, "I've got more affairs to attend to, but before I go, would you sing to me? I just feel so tired, and it's not good to be running about when you're so drained of energy."
"Of course, Mother," Rapunzel said with a smile, and then went on to mimic yesterday's scene with perfect accuracy. Once again, the tower was lit up by Rapunzel's golden hair. It was mesmerizing to him; in that sense, he could understand why her mother was always asking her to sing - he might do the same if it meant seeing the beautiful illumination as much as he wanted. It seemed, though, that as fast as it had begun, it was over. With the end of the song came the end of the mother's visit - surprise, surprise. Perhaps he'd come back tomorrow and watch a little more closely. He had a hunch that something wasn't quite right.
Alone again, Rapunzel paced the room in silence. A cloud of - only mild - concern washed over Jack, and he watched her carefully to see what might be wrong. The quiet sound of her feet pattering against the floor stopped very suddenly, and her green eyes widened. Jack, fully engaged now, leaned forward hastily as Rapunzel made a mad-dash to a cabinet. She swung the door open and filled her arms with cans of paint.
For the first time, Jack noticed the walls of the tower. "Whoa," he gasped quietly, taking it all in.
Beautiful images sprawled across them, filling the space. He'd never seen anything like it in his life. Sure, he'd seen paintings - portraits or landscapes - but these were different entirely. They had passion and purpose. They were full of life - perhaps the life that Rapunzel felt she couldn't experience here in this tower. It almost seemed as if she was a prisoner here; nobody was around to stop her from leaving, so why didn't she? He was certain she she had seemed lonely when he'd been here yesterday. The loneliness translated into her paintings, but there was also hope in them. With the massive amount of work on the walls, though, he wondered where she might find more room. It seemed, he thought as he watched her walk the walls slowly, that she was wondering the same thing. She paused then, staring up at one particular spot off of the stairway. Nodding to herself, she ran to the window and cast back the curtains. Light spilled across the floors and walls, brightening the room more dramatically than Jack would have expected.
He stood a distance away as she made her first strokes on the wall; although as far as she knew he wasn't there, he still felt that he'd be in the way were he any closer. It was only when he thought back to the time she had spent reading earlier that he realized what an opportunity this was. True, he hadn't been able to understand the story that she was reading before, but here was a story right now - and he didn't need to read in order to watch her tell it. With that in mind, he crept closer, up the stairs, to stand at her back.
Each stroke seemed so delicate, so meaningful. Jack was sure that he would never be able to do anything as brilliant. Before his wide eyes, a slender girl took shape, her hair flowing behind her dramatically as she turned her body towards the bright sun. When Rapunzel paused and walked up the remaining stairs, Jack felt a pang of disappointment; he'd really been enjoying himself. Nevertheless, he followed her, his near-constant curiosity in hand. She didn't go far, entering the first door at the top of the stairs. He took one step in, but immediately backed away. The room was filled with a large bed and a small vanity and not much else. This room must have belonged to her - her exclusively. It wouldn't have felt right for him to enter. Instead, he leaned on the wall outside of the door, waiting patiently for her to come back out. She did so rather quickly, hurrying back to her work-in-progress with a fresh can of paint in her arms. Delighted, Jack took his place to watch her continue working.
When the painting appeared to be finished, Rapunzel sighed and leaned against the railing. She was probably stiff and tired from standing there for so long, he decided. To his surprise, though, she didn't rest for long. She glanced over her shoulder at the long curtain of blonde hair on her back and jumped nimbly down the stairs to the floor. She retrieved the brush that her mother had used earlier, unknowingly telling Jack that he was in for a show. What she did next, however, caught him completely off guard. She stuck the handle of the brush between her teeth and grabbed her hair with both ends, throwing it high into the air. It tumbled over a ceiling beam and swung back towards the ground. Had he not been so quick on his feet, he wouldn't have been able to dodge it. When she began to repeat the process, he realized that it might be beneficial to wait outside; it would be difficult to avoid being ran through be the thick strands of hair otherwise. With her hair in a spindly web, Rapunzel began to brush. He supposed that a system like this was probably necessary, but at the same time it seemed just the opposite. If it was such a struggle to do ordinary things like brushing her hair, why didn't she just cut it? Surely the length of her hair had more purpose than to simply pull her mother up twice a day. There was so much that he just didn't understand.
"Rapunzel, let down your hair!"
Jack gasped, looking around to see that the sky was dark. How had this happened? Had a "quick visit" really turned into an all-day event? He'd arrived here before noon; judging by the moon's proud place in the sky, that had been quite a while ago. Still, he felt as if he'd just gotten here and didn't really want to leave. He knew his place, though. Stealing one last glance at Rapunzel as she took her spot at the window, Jack lowered himself until the grass on the ground tickled his toes.
He didn't feel like flying, and he didn't feel like sleeping. In fact, he felt rather strange, so he strolled along on foot. His mind was whirling with thoughts that continually went back to that tower. The situation was perplexing; what was the reason behind this? Why, he couldn't even bring himself to want to stop thinking about everything that had happened today. It had been a good day - far better and more interesting than a typical day would be. And Rapunzel - well, she just seemed so warm and happy, even in her rather lonely situation. It was nice to be around someone like that; it made him feel warm and happy.
"Oh please," he scoffed aloud, realizing how silly that was. "I'm Jack Frost; nothing could make me warm."
He laughed at himself, trying to shake the feeling away. He couldn't, though; part of him just kept holding on. Then it occurred to him: why should he try to get rid of something that made him happy? He wasn't sure if he'd felt truly happy - well, ever. Today, he'd had fun; he'd seen new things, and had new experiences. Just for one fleeting moment, he decided to embrace it. Springing up into the air, he let out a hollering laugh, outstretching his arms and closing his eyes. In that split second, though, his mood was interrupted.
A cracking sound could be heard from below, as if someone were walking about. Suspicious as to who might be wandering the woods at this hour, Jack returned to the ground and scanned the direction that the noise had come from. Only a void of black could be seen, but he was certain that he'd heard something. Perturbed, he slowly turned away, taking careful steps forward. Again, the noise taunted him, this time followed by the agonizing moan of the wind. He whirled around, but found that again he had been too slow; there was nothing to be seen. This time, he stood his ground, just daring whatever was there to sound off once again. To his great surprise, the sound repeated itself a third time, sending his hairs up on end; nobody was there. Now Jack had never been the fearful type, and he certainly didn't believe those silly ghost stories that all the children seemed to enjoy, but he was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Holding his staff out like a weapon, he walked into the distinct darkness. When he did this, he was overcome with a sudden sense of urgency; he didn't like whatever was going on here at all. The darkness was too dark - he felt more alone and more terrible than usual. Surrendering, he took off into the air. Never had he experienced anything like this before, and he hoped that he would never have to again.
Oh! There's that second plot that I really needed! Because of the huge amount of followers this story got, I decided to pull out chapter 2 a little early. I had it written already, but I wanted to keep a somewhat regular schedule. I don't know that every chapter will get updated this quickly :P But I write consistently, so who knows?
Thanks so much for reading! I can't wait to share the rest of this story with you all. Reviews are, of course, appreciated! (:
~ZuEra
