(Author's notes: Hello. I feed on the reviews of the innocents.)
Apparently, there was more enchantment to the world than what Jack initially thought.
Sure, he had magic. Some kind of magic he did not fully understand, but he figured he was alone. Special, even. But as he looked into every nook and crevice of the winter palace in the delight of his newfound freedom, he found marvels and nuggets of wisdom he would not be able to grab hold of down in the fjord.
He was never alone.
Nor was he the first to have some sort of strangeness about him.
The library, usually a place he avoided, offered some examples to these odd people. Some books were left laid open for him as were notes and sketches. As to who left them that way, he could only speculate. Apparently, legends had a grain of truth to them.
There was once a Queen in the Orient who sprouted wings at the age of twelve. She fled her village after being hunted down for being different and escaped into the mountains. She is said to have resided in the secret fortress of Punjab Hyloom and would be seen occasionally with her swarm of smaller, similar selves, leaving gifts to children asleep in exchange for a their fallen teeth.
Another would be what they called the 'Sandman'. Jack had heard of him, and there were many tales of him across many lands, but all seemed to coincide on the one point where he brings sleep and dreams (some say, even nightmares) with his slightest whim. No one really knows what he looked like since they would be asleep long before they could turn their heads and see.
There was a mention of some strange rabbit, though not more than its fondess for chocolate and ovals.
But what struck Jack the most was the mention of his Aunt Katherine, his father's younger sister who he had met when he was little but died when Hiccup was about five. She was a student of Ombric Shalazar and apparently knew magic. Ink would move when drawn by her, leaving a lot of people aghast when her drawings would shift on the page, and the words she wrote down would appear and disappear almost supernaturally, sometimes even speak out what is written.
This caused such a ruckus that the bishop was convinced the palace was haunted and blessed the whole place.
Like Jack, her gifts were kept a secret.
Though, Jack noted, her oddity didn't hurt anyone. His did.
The yetis wasted no time in having him acquainted in his new home, being both his aides and watchers.
The yetis were not servants. They obliged to him like they did with his father but they were ingenious and intelligent mountains of fur and muscle whose respects were earned. Jack figured Hiccup would have liked them, seeing them go about their work and inventions like scholars would. Their brown hands were not mitts of fur, but instead surprisingly dexterous and could work on the tiniest job as well as the big ones.
Phil the Yeti, so he called him, showed Jack around with the manners of a foreman in a factory.
The winter palace was anything but quiet. Left to their devices, the yetis always found work to do, be it basic cleaning or renovation of the building or projects they undertook. Apparently, King Nicholas made use of their crafts as gifts. Jack recognized the work; he saw it every Christmas when his parents were alive. All sorts of oddments useful or novelty would be sent to friends and allies across the sea and then to the very people of Berkess, themselves.
King Nicholas never sold the works.
Jack followed Phil about as they went through the workshops, the lad beaming as he never had, the business of the air exciting him and the brightness and wonder of the yetis' works kept him behind so that Phil would have to stop every few minutes, waiting for Jack to finish surveying this or that.
"This place is fantastic!" Jack laughed and caught up, avoiding the elves underfoot, who, apparently, were more like welcome squatters in the place than any accountable help.
The yetis let them be despite having their red hats stolen and turned into clothes by the elves.
Phil spoke something in intelligible yeti and opened a large ornate door.
"What's this place?" he asked and stepped in.
It was another workshop, separated from the rest. Phil said something he could not understand.
Jack looked about, the frosted windows lighted despite being night outside and the place cluttered unlike the rest of the place. Wood shaving and chips of ice were here and there, a fresh plate of cookies laid out on the table as a fire danced in the hearth.
Phil mumbled and pointed to a tapestry against one wall, showing a formidable figure in red clothing lined with dark fur.
"That's…that's Dad," Jack said with a small chuckle, nearing it, tilting his head, "This room was his?"
Phil nodded, matched with a rumbling sentence.
Jack cracked a grin, walking along the walls and checking everything. He had always known his father to be a man of many talents and tinkered about, but he did not have a workshop in the ancestral palace. Along the wooden shelves were lined small sculptures crafted by hand showing intricate details. There were trains carved in icy glass (or was it real ice?), lit candles in mason jars (they were everywhere, even along the beams of the ceiling), carvings of dragons both ferocious and downright cuddly and in the corner, sat a family of Russian nesting dolls.
"Matryoshka," his father would call them.
Jack easily recognized the four. One for their father, the one beside it, their mother, whose thin features were caught delicately on the painting of the doll, and then there was him, but his hair and eyes were still brown like the res t of his family (this image made him comfortable, somewhat) and Hiccup, whose doll was only the center one without layers.
"I wonder how you're doing, kid," he gave a small smile and plucked up the likeness of his brother, still a child as a doll.
After a moment, he looked to Phil, "You can go now, I'm okay,"
The yeti gave a thankful mumble and walked out to tend to his own work. Yetis are such busybodies.
Jack kept the nesting doll in hand and walked towards the frosted window, opening it.
The freezing air wafted in, making the flames in the fireplace flicker and some candles in their jars to sputter out. Snowflakes fluttered in, specks of snow landing on the crimson carpet where they melted and left burgundy spots.
He set Hiccup's doll back beside their parents' and took his, popping the one outer shell to find the same face in the center doll, only with pale skin, snowy hair and blue eyes. He looked so different from the rest of them that he wondered if he was part of the same family.
"This is where I belong," Jack mumbled to himself, setting the outer doll back beside the rest, where it belonged; brown-haired and warm and smiling.
Unlike the one he had in his hand that reflected what he was now.
"This is where you belong," he told the tiny doll and put it on the snowy windowsill where, indeed, it looked proper and in place.
It was still snowing outside, he noted as he turned to close the window, stopping when he noticed that the inside of the wood frosted over. Instinctively, he pulled away, only to realize with a chuckle that no one in here cared.
With a newfound delight, he touched the warm stone wall and watched frost bloom across it like wild fern; Jack laughed then and ran his fingers across the surface, delighted in the way the ice followed. He looked at his pale hands, and for the first time, saw more than just what looked like a dead person's limbs.
He leaned out the window and blew a breath as if a child blowing a bubble. His breath did not mist, and instead created a flurry of snowflakes that danced in the wind.
There was wonder in Jack's eyes, no longer dull and quiet, but twinkled with his laugh. He reached out and saw the little filigrees of ice dance between his fingers at his will.
"This is amazing!" he cackled and leapt up on the windowsill with one light push, feeling like all his bodily weight had disappeared, making him no more lighter than a leaf in autumn.
On the windowsill, he crouched on the balls of his bare feet, a hand on the wall beside him, the wind ruffling his hair and his blue tunic that had frosted between the waves and right at the seams.
He looked out into the night, seeing more than a normal person would. He could easily make out the shapes of the snow-capped mountains and the ridges of the snowed-over roof even through the blizzard that had decided to descend on all of Berkess.
"Yeah!" Jack hooted and without a second's hesitance, jumped off the ledge and slid down, keeping his balance and sending heaps of snow off the roof.
Aided by the wind that had decided to be his friend, he gave a small hop and landed on a snowy courtyard as easily as one would jump from a chair top to the floor. He balanced along the top of the railing of the balcony, feeling free and fantastic and so much like a child on a Christmas day.
The warm lights from indoors illuminated the snow and made them glisten and Jack experimented on his newly welcomed gifts, discovering that he could create streaks of ice with just the flick of a wrist, the glassy substance flickering blue before it fully formed, and with this, Jack went about and tested out his powers, jumping from the balcony to the one beside it, then to a window-ledge, surprising a band of elves that were pilfering cookies.
He went along the whole outside of the winter palace like a ghost would, not once slipping or falling.
Soon enough, large peaks of ice and snow would be found here and there, and the whole outside of the building frosted over as if it had been under winter for more than a season.
"Sorry 'bout that!" he called to one of the yetis standing agape with an ice-pick about the clean the icicles off the east-wind shingles.
Jack found himself right outside the front doors, the vastness of the snowy place surprising him despite having seen it from the air. He could do anything he wanted.
He could fly over the forests and even back down to the fjord if he wanted.
But instead, he sat down on the snow and watched the blizzard calm down, watching the snow fall slowly in the silent mountains.
"I could get used to this," he told himself as packed snow in his hands, "No rules, no responsibility…"
He got up and threw the snowball as hard as he could, the handful flying off, disappearing down in the forests. Jack grinned.
"…it's as good as it sounds," he laughed and kicked up a flurry of snow, forming a heap.
"…c'mon, Jack, make me a snowman!" a child's voice in his head nagged.
"Which reminds me," he mumbled leapt towards the gigantic main doors. He had not made a snow-sculpture in years and figured he would not do very well on it.
The lad tried to recall what it looked like, the little toy dragon Hiccup adored that he had turned into some sort of snowman every winter. The doll had come from their mother who had fixation on reptiles.
Jack figured the lot of dragon models in the winter palace were hers.
He drew marks on the frosted wooden surface, though not much of an artist, he managed well enough, making the faint figure of Hiccup's old dragon, now a bit bigger around the height of his shoulder when on all fours with folded wings and a long finned tail.
"Ridges, ridges…" Jack mumbled to himself as he made all the little details, marking the thin veil of floral ice with his fingers.
A window slammed open from above, a yeti calling to him.
"What!?" Jack yelled from below, keeping his hand on the door as not to lose track. He needed to learn what they were rambling about most the time.
Another wave of indistinct yammering.
"I can't understand-," he began and let out a breath, "I'll just come in there, alright!?"
He pushed the door open, not noticing the faint shimmering blue running across the frost he had created and stepped inside, back in the warmth of the palace. Elves crowded at his feet, jingling all the way, holding up a pair of belled shoes and a tray of cups filled with eggnog.
"No thank you," he said and pushed the heavy doors back in place.
The movement made the frost outside flicker and as he pressed back the double doors back together from the inside, he unknowingly pushed something out.
The drawing of the dragon slipped from the wooden surface, taking with it the shape and detail Jack had left on him. It plopped on to the snow, pawing its snout and shaking snow off its wings sleepily
The dragon blinked, looking about with a curious purr, now in full form. All over, it seemed to have scales made of ice, glistening blue-white and completely solid like a true being. It extended its wings, shaking off the last of the snow off of itself as the blue glow that illuminated him from within, showing through the ridges on his back and through his slitted nostrils, faded.
Curious place, it must have thought as it pawed about, sinking in the snow as it walked.
It stumbled forward with a thud noisily and made a yeti indoors wonder what the commotion outside was.
He opened the door, poking his head out to see the dragon. He yelled out a warning cry and the dragon perked up in surprise, suddenly a whole band of guard yetis jumped down from the top walls, armed with clubs, yelling battle-cries.
The dragon let out a shriek, but nothing spouted from its mouth than expected.
The hairy horde advanced, ready to strike.
Hit by fear, the dragon screeched and stumbled forward, flapping its wings and hoisting itself into the air, unbalanced, like a hatchling bird and dove down from the mountaintops and into the forest gorge.
The city courtyard was covered in snow, the rooftiles unseen under the white layers and nearly every surface flecked in white. Bonfires were lit here and there whilst households started using their log piles, something they did not expect for months.
Rapunzel looked about, her scarf reaching up to her chin as she held out woolen blankets from the main doors. She wrapped herself up in winter clothes a present tsarina provided her.
"'Tis always 'zhis warm in Russia, never leave without proper furs!"
Rapunzel quickly thanked her and took to herself to watch after the villagers as if she was in her own kingdom. She kept a close monitor on the lords, especially, since she promised Hiccup.
She knew how difficult it would be for a kingdom to be overrun with treasons and conspiring people.
"Thank you, ma'am…" a red-haired child said as she got down on her knees and wrapped a warm cloak about him.
"Stay indoors, or near a fire, okay?" Rapunzel told him.
The boy nodded and ran off. Even for Norway, winter like this was cold.
"We're running out of blankets, ma'am," said a palace maidservant, Maudie, as she set down a new batch of blankets.
"Check my ship, then," she said, "Then send word to the other nobles if they have some to spare."
Maudie nodded and hurried off.
Rapunzel kept her braid in her cloak, her hair kept warm along her back.
"They'll still starve," said a cold voice behind her.
"Duke Pitchiner," she breathed, her lips lightly quivering, noting the tall man up and down.
Just then, a woman came up, holding a toddler close, shivering.
"A blanket, here," Rapunzel said in a hurry and pulled it about the woman, who looked like she was about to fall over, "Go inside the Great Hall, there's soup and hot glogg for everyone…"
"Th-Thank you, Your Grace…" she stammered, "Berkess is indebted to you."
Rapunzel smiled as the woman waddled through with her child. Pitch's gaze followed them almost scrutinizing.
"That child is suffering from hypothermia," he noted. Rapunzel looked, panicked.
"There's nothing you can do, princess," he told her, "You can't save everyone, you know."
Rapunzel looked at him in defiance, "Why, of course, I can," she seethed and walked past him, calling to the guards posted in the halls, "Check the stores. I want a detailed account of how much we have left…"
Pitch remained at the main doors, amber eyes following the determined princess who bore herself like a queen. But he kept to his resolve. People would start dying off like flies if winter steadily progressed. There was no way to leave by sea nor trekking through land, not unless they find a way to haul away tons of snow to make a path. They were stranded, nobles and peasants all.
He didn't have to guess which end would start dying first.
"It's just a matter of time before nightmares become reality," he thought to himself, hands clasped behind his back.
There was a sudden ruckus in the courtyard as Hiccup's stallion comes rushing in, whinnying in panic. A stableman quickly caught him by the reins and called him down.
"Whoa! Easy, boy!"
The people in the Great Hall crowded to the windows, and as they saw the prince's horse, they knew all too well what that bode for them all. Servants hurried up to inform the Small Council while others began to murmur.
Rapunzel stood by the window, clapping her hands over her mouth.
"...where has he gone?"
"…oh, heavens, is he dead!?"
"A search party!" Rapunzel hollered over everyone. They turned to her, surprised by her outburst, but she looked calmer than any of them.
"I'm going out to look for them, myself," she said, turning to them, a fierceness in her green eyes.
"Milady, you can't—!"
"I will," she said sharply, crossing the room, the crowd parting, "I see no one else volunteering."
"Ma'am!" called Gobber, Hiccup's manservant as he came up, "Let me go in place of yeh, yer Grace,"
Rapunzel gave a thankful smile to him, but before she could say anything, other men, lords or servants otherwise, stepped up and volunteered.
"Thank you, all…" she breathed, looking around with a new glimmer of hope.
Pitchiner was now along the sidelines, watching the events unfold, a shadow no one noticed.
"Until the Small Council decides what is to be done about the fell winter, we have to do what we can," she said, looking to Gobber, "I'm still coming with you, gentlemen."
The ladies and lords began to speak out objections. She was a young princess after all, a prized daughter of a German king whom they do not want to be angered if they let his child be lost in the dark of winter.
"But you'll die!"
"My dear, I say! You can't even handle a blade if a wolf pounces on you!"
Rapunzel raised a brow. She didn't need a blade to protect herself.
"I've made up my mind, I'm not staying in here," she said stubbornly, "I've had enough time indoors to last a lifetime," she said and turned to her heels.
"Milady, is there anything you need?" asked a servant-woman as she trailed beside her.
"A warm cloak," replied Rapunzel, "And a frying pan."