You know what, I'm not even going to bother on apologizing anymore for taking so long, because if I do, then I'll be saying sorry a lot.

This one's a little bit lighter than the previous chapter but still pretty dark so I hope you don't mind.

Anyway, I tried my best to keep people in character; I'm just not sure if I succeeded though.

How long will you be away? – Elsa

Three or four days, maybe; a week tops – Jack

Why that long? – Elsa

Elsa, the road from here to Corona isn't exactly right down the street. But don't worry; I'll be back before you could say "snowflakes". – Jack

Snowflakes. – Elsa

*Chuckle* Come now, Princess, what's wrong? You're not going to miss me or anything like that, will you? – Jack

NO! Maybe… yes. Oh, stop looking so smug! – Elsa

Elsa… I will come back. Soon. I promise. – Jack

~Jack Delivering ice to Corona.

Three days he'd been walking – at least he thought it had been three days. Had it been three days? It was hard to tell when the mornings, noons, and nights seemed to meld into each other the longer he walked. No matter, all he knew was that he'd been following the same dirt road for a very long time now. Of the road itself and where exactly did it lead to, even he didn't know, nor did he care at the moment; all he did was pick the first exit out of Arendelle and never looked back.

But of course that was just him trying to sound tough. If ever he believed that statement, then he was only fooling himself.

With the distance between him and his home growing ever more vast, the thought "Turn back now while you could still see the castle in the distance!" grew just as much in terms of want. However, Jack made sure that before the longing in his heart grew too unbearable, before it could persuade him to go back and take Elsa in his arms and remind her of who he was again, Jack would then stomp on the vagrant thought with heavy boots of vindication.

'It's too late! There is no going back.' Hid frustrations mount and Jack kicks at a tree that was unfortunate enough to have crossed the weary man's path. The tree, however, was a lot tougher than his toe was and immediately pain shoots up the abused appendage. Jack hops on his good foot and falls to rest his back against the trunk of the tree clutching at his boot thinking that rubbing the leather would alleviate some of the pain.

"Yeah, not really one of my brightest ideas." He chides himself sarcastically. Well, on the bright side, at least, one thing the pain did was distract him from the worser pain in his chest, and as the throbbing cleared his mind somewhat of the melancholy that had accompanied him since his departure from Arendelle, Jack finally takes a moment to look around himself to see if he could recognize where he was – he didn't.

Because of the sheer amount of emotional turmoil he was made to endure, the three days he had travelled almost felt like he'd been sleepwalking the entire time. And now with his eyes finally open, he found himself lost. But lost where exactly?

Jack looks behind the tree he was leaning on and discovers that his back sat faced to an entire forest the whole time. The brunette deflates. "Ugh, great." He groaned out. "Forests – I hate forests."

The reason why he did was because, in Jack's experience traveling and running errands for the king, forests never bade him good news. To him, forests meant hours spent wandering underneath thick leaves of tall trees that did their best to block his view of the stars and any hopes of direction. Forests also meant danger, it being full to brim of Earth's most undesirable creations. A few of which he had grown to despise were: bugs, poisonous bugs, poisonous snakes, poison ivy, wolves, poisonous wolves – no, wait, there were no such thing, but then again it was a forest, anything could be lurking within the shadows of the trees –

"Where you headin' off to, stranger?"

– Oh, and bandits; can't forget about them bandits.

Jack turns his head towards the source of the voice and sees two men approaching him. Warily he rose to his feet if ever the need to run became a must, and by the way these two fine gentlemen were eyeballing the satchel he had on his person, that need may not be too far off.

"Oh me? Uh, nowhere really, you know; just takin' in the sights." The pleasant smile he put on was meant to disguise the nervousness that began to prickle his skin. Cool under pressure – that was the look he was trying to pull off.

And failing miserably.

The big-nosed thug looks to his accomplice, a sinister looking man with a hook in place for a left hand. "Hey, Hook, ya hear that? This guy's a tourist!"

For a few short seconds, Jack forgets about the trepidation he was feeling just then as he couldn't help the thought, 'Hook? Hook, really?' Thinking that Mr. Hook wouldn't really take too well at being mocked because of his tactless choice of alias, Jack greatly resists the urge to roll his eyes at the name. 'I wonder why they call him that.' He, instead, thinks sarcastically to himself.

"A tourist you say?" Hook carries on poorly the act of friendly passerby. "Well then, you're going to need a guide, mister. Why don't we… show you around?"

The young Gibbs liked to consider himself a smart man, and as proof to his claim, he could tell even without having to look that, though the offer was innocent enough, the smirk in the thug's invitation told him of other things.

Jack tries to evade but the two thugs block his path. "Oh, no, I wouldn't want to impose. I'm sure you boys have better things to do than helping little old me around the forest." Nowhere to go, the brunette backs up only to hit the tree he'd been leaning on earlier; he looks behind himself almost in panic to see what blocked his path then faces the two brigands again as they were slowly making their way over to him.

Sinister grin in full effect, Mr. Hook lets out a dark chuckle. "Oh, but I insist; after all, things could get really dangerous around these parts when..." pause for effect. "…you're alone."

Alone – Jack cringes at the word. Yes, he was alone again, just like old times it would seem, but "alone" didn't equal "helpless". Jack knew this and so hardens his resolve with what's left of the livid energy he had earlier. If these guys thought that he wouldn't even defend himself then they didn't know Jack.

It sure as hell wasn't bravery as the fear of the situation still lingered within him, but put yourself in Jack's shoes, a man who had just left his home and everything he had ever loved, and tell you're not the least bit angry. It was like the universe put a bull's eye on his head and everyone wanted to take a shot! First he leaves Arendelle and now he gets mugged? 'This is not how John Gibbs dies!' The brunette gulps down the fear he was feeling and releases a calming breath.

In a more even tone, Jack takes one last crack at diplomacy. "Look, guys I don't want any trouble and you look like two reasonable chaps; why don't we just step back and we'll part ways as pleasant acquaintances, eh?

Big-nose made the mistake of taking the tremble in the smaller man's voice as terror and not fury. Seeing the charade no longer necessary, the thug replied honestly. "Well, we don't want no trouble too, kid, and you won't get any if only you'd give us that pretty little bag you got there."

The young man tightens his hold on the aforementioned satchel. "What, this raggedy old piece'a horse leather? This thing's got nothing in it but dirty laundry. Seriously guys, a couple of fine upstanding thugs like yourselves could do a lot better." Jack spoke, tone light in jest as if in the company of old friends. It was just a front, however, to hide the fact that the bag was worth a lot more to him than it was to them, and besides, it wasn't like he was lying either; there really was nothing in it but a couple of spare clothes, some rations, and a survival knife. The only reason why he was holding on to the satchel the way he did was because of the sentimental value that came along his father giving it to him. Remembrance – besides his memories, this bag was the last thing that tied him to his father and Arendelle; it held no value to anyone but to Jack it was priceless.

"Just give Big-nose what he wants, wise guy, and we promise not to rough you up too bad." Hook drops the pleasantries all together, grown tired of waiting.

But Jack was unfazed by the threat however as he was well past the point of caring about the consequences. He actually rolls his eyes this time whence he'd heard the other dude's ridiculous name

'Well there goes diplomacy.' A slight frown deepens the features on the cornered fellow's face, already anticipating what was to come. Straightening his posture, Jack takes on a near imperceptible ready stance. 'I guess it's time for some intense negotiations.'

"Fine." He says as the steel in his voice also shrouds the shadows in his eyes. Unslingning the single strap over his head, he takes the bag in his right hand and presents it over to Big-nose with an outstretched arm. "Here, take it then."

If Big-nose was the least bit suspicious over Jack's challenging tone and rather sudden compliance then he didn't show it. Smiling, he went to grab for the offering and thinks to himself how quick and easy the particular theft was, but just as he was about to lay a finger on the satchel's belt, Jack draws it back just as fast and trades the bag for a vicious straight left instead. The punch strikes true and the thug is brought to his knees clutching at his most likely broken nose. Immediately, nasally pained howls fill the air as Big-nose lets the world know how much it hurt. "OWWW! That hurts so much!"

'Tell me about it. What's your face made of – Cement?' Jack flicks his hand repeatedly to sooth some of the pain of punching the thick skulled ruffian, but pain or not, it wasn't enough to keep him from letting loose a couple of well earned insults; tasteless insults to be sure, but insults all the same.

"Oh, wow, does it truly?! Punches are supposed to hurt, genius. You know, for safety purposes, you'd probably want to get that nose checked out, and while you're at it, why don'cha change your name from 'Big-nose' to 'Broken-nose'. You know why? Because your nose is broken that's why!"

Hook looks at his downed comrade in surprise. Stunned as he was at what just happened, his jaw hung from their hinges.

"And you – Hook was it? – are you going to just stand there or do you want to get this thing over with? I think your name is DUMB, by the way." The guy was a dude with a hook for a hand; the puns were endless but – Dumb? …Oh, well. He could've probably done better than that, but in the high his adrenaline doused him in, his brain didn't really bother conjuring up classier mockery.

"Why you little – AAARGH!"

Jack saw the hook coming a mile away and so ducks to avoid the downswing that was aimed at his head. The force used to heave the menacing weapon imbeds the hook into the bark of the tree that he had backed up against, and a look of shock flashes across the bemustachioed bandit's face as he tries to pry his faux hand from the great oak and failing.

As Hook was trying to tug his hook out, the motion of doing so had his head moving like a pendulum going back and forth along the push and pull of his arms. Jack sees the rhythm and tries to time it right. After a particularly powerful tug, hook was just bringing his face in for one last pull when suddenly Jack stands up from his crouched position. The brunette's face immediately filled Hook's field of vision, and before the ruffian had time to gasp, stars lit up his world as Jack performed the grandpappy of all headbutts on the bald bandit.

Mr. Hook didn't even make a sound as he was already knocked out cold before he hit the grass.

Jack stumbles forward as he too almost knocked himself out with his own headbutt, but through sheer willpower, he holds firm. Head throbbing something fierce, it takes some time for Jack to clear the cobwebs away from his consciousness, but despite the rock-splitting headache that assaulted his cranium, it was still not enough to keep him from the tacky insults that his foggy brain seemed to be chalk full of at the moment.

"Yeah! How do you like me now?! – ow…" Jack brings a hand up to his forehead to determine the damage he'd done to himself, and thankfully doesn't see blood when inspecting his digits. Relieved, he then stands on shaky knees and began to boast of his triumph against the two robbers, complete with animated hand gestures. "Yeah, that's right; what you got? It's not so fun for you now, now is it? Maybe now you'll use your heads frist before you go try and steal from somebody, huh? Maybe now you'd stop and think first that – Hey, maybe this guy doesn't want to be mugged; maybe he just wants to be left alone; and maybe I should be a considerate human being and not rob him after all!" – then maybe, just MAYBE, you wouldn't get your butts handed to you in the future! And another thing. A – huh?

Jack's comical tirade was interrupted by someone tapping on his shoulder. The boy turns around to see who it was and was immediately greeted by a wall. 'A wall? No, that can't be right.' so Jack takes a step back to get a better view and he realizes that, no, it wasn't a wall after all; it was chest, a really broad chest. A creeping sort of dread tracks its bony fingers up Jack's spine as he slowly tilts his head up. Only one word could be uttered at what he saw. "Tall…" He gulped.

The giant of a man stared Jack down for a few minutes as if gazing directly into his soul, then breaks eye contact only to take a quick look at the two lying on the grass before returning his dauntless gaze on the brunette, wordlessly asking, 'Did you do this?'

"Uh…" Jack follows the direction where the bigger man had flickered his eyes at, and immediately warning bells began to sound in his head as he figured out that Goliath over here must've been friends with the two he just beat up. "Oh, them? They're fine; we were just, uhm…u~uuuh…" That headbutt must've been harder than he though, because he was really drawing up a blank for an excuse. And that in its self was a surprise; Jack always had an excuse for everything. "I swear, whatever this looks like, we were not fighting. Seriously, they're just sleeping a~aaand you're not buying any of this are you?"

A low growl was his answer.

'And that therefore concludes intense negotiations for today. Now it's time for the running. Oh man, the running!'

And so into the forest he ran, the giant's heavy footsteps spurring him deeper into the woods.

"Will that be all, your majesty?"

The voice of his faithful servant, Gibbs, snaps him out of his daze, and distractedly the king replies, "Yes, that will be all, Mr. Gibbs; you may leave."

"Of course, sire." The butler responded curtly and with a short bow went to leave the throne room.

But before Gibbs was to exit through the double doors, Henry spoke again, and for what felt like the hundredth time, asks the very same question he'd been asking for the past three days. "Gibbs, where's John?" Even though he already knew the answer, the curiosity and confusion ailed him still in regards to the whereabouts of his consort.

The elderly waiting-man barely winces this time as he was reminded yet again that his son was no longer with them. However, despite the melancholy that surrounded the mention of the other missing Gibbs, Albert, adoptive father of John, answers the question without fail just as one could expect from a butler of his caliber. "He is gone, sire." He simply states; his old voice not at all belaying the grief that racked his brittle bones."

The most minute of facial muscles sag at the dispassionate phrase and the king's expression looked almost disappointed as if he were hoping for a different answer from all the other times he's asked. No matter how many times he's heard the same reply, the bewilderment that followed in its wake never ceased, and without meaning to, Henry lets his eyes grow unfocused as he, for the nth time, tried to comprehend the words.

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

Surprise flashes briefly across the king's face as, in the thrall of his many wonderings, Henry almost forgot that Gibbs was waiting on him still for his dismissal. His focus divert back towards the man that lingered patiently by the doors, and for a moment, his mouth worked noiselessly up and down, having difficulty to just allow the butler to leave. There was a great many things he wanted to ask the older man, few of the many mostly revolving around his friend, Jack. Henry wanted to know why Jack left; how it came to the point that he had to leave; and most of all, how could he, the king, have allowed it to happen. But sense stays his tongue in the end as he decided that, what was the point? He knew already the answers to these questions: why he left; how it happened; and whose fault it was. The only reason why he kept asking them to himself was because he just couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the reality of it.

If ever you've had a dream that you felt was so real; made decisions that seemed the most logical when you slept, but then only to wake up unable to comprehend the choices that you made, then you would know exactly how Henry felt right at that moment.

Hopelessly lost in the maelstrom of his very own make, Henry was left with nothing left to say. "No. Nothing else, Gibbs; you may leave."

Princess Elsa woke up again that morning feeling like there was a gigantic chasm in the middle of her chest; an empty space that used to be occupied by… something; something that was gone now; something she couldn't help but feel was very, very important. But what was it? Whatever could it be that it would urge her to recall what it was with so much urgency? Well whatever. It didn't really matter because, despite trying her best, her efforts to recall always proved futile as still that "something" remained ever a mystery to the young miss.

And it was driving her insane!

Every day it was like this; her waking up, trying to remember, and then failing every time. In Callah there was a princess who was feeling very much lost.

The better part of her mornings, the princess spent sitting on a mattress, as was the case now; legs splayed out before her underneath the blankets with her small hands on her knees. A look of someone searching was her expression as she stared unseeingly at the wall opposite the foot of her bed, and if it were not for the knocking on her door, she would have stayed in her room like that well into the afternoon.

The door creaks and opens just enough to let a head peek through. The sound draws Elsa's attention to the woman who wore a worried expression on her face.

"Elsa, angel, we missed you at breakfast this morning; is there something the matter?"

Elsa didn't answer immediately since she wasn't really clear on what she should say. She wanted to say yes, but then what? She had no idea what the matter was to begin with. So in the end, Elsa shakes her head no. However, the gesture must not have been very convincing, that or maybe Diana saw something in her eyes, because even though she tried to hide the truth, the lady matriarch to all of Arendelle enters the room anyway to sit besides Elsa and wrapping her arms around her little princess.

"Elsa, what is it?" The queen asked, not at all fooled by her feeble attempts at denial.

Seeing this, Elsa sighs in surrender. Whatever was bothering her, she might as well let her mother know now. "I." She began but then pauses as the words she wanted to say didn't really come easily. "I don't know. It's just that I feel like I'm… forgetting something." Her hand gestures in front of her almost looking like she was grasping for whatever it was she was trying to remember. Suddenly she asks, "Mama, do I have lessons today?" as her hand drops back to her knee.

She wasn't expecting the question and the abruptness of it confused her, but Diana answers all the same. "No, dear, you do not."

Exasperated, Elsa's breathing began to hasten. "Do I – I-Is there someplace where I need to be? Is there something I need to do?" Her voice took on a more desperate tone as she continued with her line of questioning that seemed to have neither rhyme nor reason to it.

The desperate look in her eyes set her mother off and the worry began to gnaw at Diana now as her daughter spoke haltingly; the ever present poise that Elsa possessed evaporating as the desperation that seemed to take the princess wore the poor girl down. "No, Elsa. It's Saturday; there's nothing. Elsa, what's the ma –"

"Is there a book I need to read? A song I need to learn? Did I forget to clean my room? –" She went on and on, ignorant to her mother's concerned distress, and with every question asked, the girl grew all the more frantic.

She was unraveling right before her eyes and Diana tries to stop her angry monologue before hysteria took her completely. "Elsa, stop! What's wro –" But she couldn't finish as the small girl lets out a frustrated cry.

"– What is it?! What could it be?! I just – I just can't remember! I just can't… I can't remember." Her outburst ended in a miserable moan, after which, she then proceeded to cover her face with her hands as helpless sobbing racked her tiny form and made her shoulders hitch.

Mercy how it broke her heart seeing her daughter face so much sorrow.

'Damn you, Jack. Damn you, John, for leaving. If only you could see now what your absence is doing to Elsa.' She could practically feel the desperation and confusion rolling off of her daughter in waves as she tried in vain to remember the lost piece to the ache in her chest, and Diana could do nothing but watch.

Oh, she could just have easily told her what, or better yet, who she was trying to remember just to spare the girl the pain, but out of sheer respect for Jack and his wishes, the words were kept locked behind the vault of her lips. If her friend went to such lengths to be forgotten, then who was Diana to be so bold as to make people remember? It was not her place to say; so she will not speak…

…But how much she wanted to, though.

For the past three days, Diana was forced to endure the pain of keeping her lips sealed as she watched her daughter look behind her every time a laugh would sound somewhere in the castle; her eyes frantically searching for something despite not knowing what it was she was looking for. For three days, Diana endured keeping Jack's secret as her daughter stared longingly at the empty seat across from her at the dinner table; her lost in the memories that were no longer there to be remembered. And for the past three days, Diana stood by helplessly as her daughter would often times spend hours on end in the garden courtyard standing… just standing. Three days.

'Damn you, Jack Frost.'

No, just because she was too honorable to disregard her respect for Jack, it didn't mean she could not encourage her daughter to remember. If her daughter was willing enough and managed to figure it out all on her own, then Diana didn't think anyone would hold it against her that she had a hand in helping her do so. And that was what Diana was planning to do now – she will keep Elsa from losing hope.

"Elsa… I know you're scared." Diana tried to sooth but her words were like raindrops been swallowed by an ocean churning with chaos; Elsa was inconsolable. Diana draws her little girl even closer. "Whatever you're trying to remember, I know it scares you, but please don't ever, ever let it go. I promise that you will remember some day, but until then, please don't give up hope… because hope is worth it."

Elsa's crying stops as a realization dawns on her even through the thick fog of emotions she found herself lost in – Whatever it was she was trying to remember, it seemed that her mother knew something about it. Her mother knew. "Worth it? How do you know it's worth it? Mama, is there something you're not telling me?" A glimmer of a wish shone within the tear glass of her eyes as she sniffs, waiting for the answer.

'Just say it, Diana. Tell her!' Her thoughts plead but, no, she couldn't; Jack's efforts were not for her to break. Elsa needed to figure it out on her own… but perhaps a hint. How could she deny her daughter a hint? "No, dear, all I'm saying is when a princess forgets something, she should do well in trying to remember him."

Whoops! Did she say "Him"? It – she meant "it". Oh well.

Her eyes grow at the smirk on her mother's face. Now at least, Elsa knew she was looking for a boy.

"He's this way! I think I smelled him go this way!"

"Oh, come on, guys! We've been doing this chase thing for hours now; aren't you tired –" Jack asked breathlessly his pursuers as he jumped over a felled oak tree. "– or bored?"

"When I get my hands on you, I'm gon'na –" Hook tried to retort while the portly built hooligan continued his chase after the flighty free runner, but Jack interrupts his threat.

"Not 'hands', Hook, 'hand'. You've only got one of'em remember? " Oh, there they were; the witty quips were coming a lot more easily now with the blood pumping and his head not as foggy as before. 'Hooray! That's right, I should keep insulting them; I bet they love that!' Sometimes Jack really wished he wasn't such a witty bastard.

"AAARGH!"

"Shut up, mouth; you're going to get me in trouble!"

Jack was a lot faster than they were that was pretty obvious, but when counted for duration, he didn't know how much longer he could run. They, on the other hand, looked like they could keep on going for days. At this rate it would only be a matter of time before they caught up with him. What the brunette needed was a hiding place. But where could he hide where Big-nose's big nose wouldn't be able to sniff him out?

He breathes in a gasp of surprise and lets out a breath of disbelief. "Uh oh…" One wrong turn and Jack is now faced with an intimidating rock face reminiscent of the one at the Quarry of Songs. It was a dead end, a vine covered dead end. The fight flushes clean out of him as he realizes that, if he doubled back, then the thugs would surely catch him.

There was nowhere else to run.

'No, no, no, NO!' Jack despaired. 'Seven years as John Gibbs and this is how it goes down?! Are you kidding me?! Fine! Being human sucked anyway!' He cussed but only to cover what he was truly feeling at the moment. Jack then turns away from the wall and solemnly faces where the robbers would most likely emerge from the shrubbery, all but accepting his untimely demise. This was it he guesses – the end. He wasn't scared though; if anything, he was sad. He was sad that there really was no chance that he'd get to see Elsa ever again. Oh, well. At least he got to say goodbye.

All the pain, all the sorrow, the regrets, everything felt like it weighed on him all at once, and finally, Jack has had enough; he was giving up. The weight, so heavy it was that it was almost like a physical thing and his legs could no longer carry the load; so he goes to rest his back on the stone wall that blocked his path.

What he expected was the inevitability of death; he expected the cold steel of Hook's hook to pierce his heart and take his life away. He was expecting the final finish to John Gibb's story. What he didn't expect was, as soon as his back leaned on the wall, that he would fall right through it.

"Whoa – what the?!" He turns to catch himself and lands on his hands and knees. His heart beat frantically at the unexpected scare, but once recovered, Jack looks up from where he was and sees a sight that he not at all expected to see. "What in MiM's name is a tower doing here?" The question, however, was for another time, because right outside the hidden entrance, Jack could hear angry voices.

"Where the heck did he go?! You said that you smelled him go this way!"

"I did!"

"Well do you see anyone in here? Cuz' I sure don't! Come on; he must have gone this way."

As Jack listened in on the duo, he couldn't help the relieved sigh that escapes him at the thought that he was finally in the clear. The thugs were leaving; thank goodness.

"Wait." A third deeper and scarier voice spoke up this time; it must've been the giant he had the pleasure of meeting earlier. "What do you reckon is behind those vines?" Well that was unexpectedly out of character; aren't the big ones supposed to be the dimmer gentlemen of the group? ...Damn.

"Djävla helvete!" Jack cussed again as he could hear their footsteps getting closer to the tangled curtain of vines he was hiding against. If only his father could hear him now, then there would have been no more soap in the castle left to scrub the floors with, if you know what he means.

Jack scrambles to his feet and his eyes scan the vicinity for anywhere else he could hide, but besides the tower in the middle, there was nowhere else suitable enough to serve as a hiding spot. Left with no other choice, Jack runs toward the tall structure and devises a way to scale its high walls.

"Door. Door? Door! Where the helvete is the door?! Who in their right minds would build a tower with no door?! What? Do they expect people to just fly up to the window over there?" No sooner than the words left his mouth did a long line of rope fall right in front of him, making his eyes go cross as he stared at the long cord that now dangled a hair's width away from his face. "O~oooh, that's how." One surprise after the other! But Jack wasn't going to complain.

"Hey, I think that there's a path here! Vlad, give me my chopping hook; I'll get these pesky vines out of the way!"

Faster than he ever thought he could, Jack scaled the fifty-foot-something tower, jumped in through the window, and then gathered up the rope he used to climb up with – seventeen seconds flat. Right on time too because just as Jack was pulling up the last few feet of rope in with him, did Hook and his two other cohorts come bursting through the vine entrance; his hook-sword attachment waved threateningly in the air.

It would seem that death was a very good incentive not to doddle, Jack hypothesized.

The brunette ducked, using the windowsill as a cover so that he wouldn't be seen. His hands immediately cover his mouth to try and stifle his rapid breathing in fear that, besides the exceptional sense of smell, they were also able to hear his gasping for air despite being fifty feet of the ground.

"Hell's fire, Big-nose! He's not here either!"

"No, I could have sworn I smelled him this way. What about that tower; do you think he went in there?"

"Search it. If that rat is in that thing, then there must be a way in."

The three thugs spread out and circled the base of the tall structure for quite some time; all the while, Jack made not a sound. He didn't want to risk being discovered. Perhaps if he was lucky enough and he stayed quiet long enough, then maybe they would just leave.

"No door?! Who in the hell would build a tower with no door? What? Do they expect people to just fly up to the window there?" Hook's frustrated exclamation almost made Jack laugh.

'That's exactly what I said.' He thought.

"People these days know nothing about architecture! Now, it's all about ambience and feng shui and all that crap!"

"If you ask me, I think it's a pretty tower."

"Well, no one asked you Big-nose. And besides, you think everything is pretty."

"Enough, both of you. Vlad is hungry; He will go to Snuggly Duckling now."

The sound of heavy boots trudging through the confined glade, signals the departure of the dreaded giant. Vlad's leaving was then soon followed by two other pairs of boots, telling Jack that the trio had finally left, albeit grudgingly.

"You should get your nose fixed. That thing just cost me my night's brew! This is the last time I follow that thing anywhere!"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But you know what? I think my nose is straighter now after that hit I took!"

"Oh, really? Maybe I should punch you in the face too; maybe then it would be even straighter!"

The echoes of their quarrelling fade, but Jack doesn't relax until after a few more minutes that he was sure they were well enough away to neither see nor hear him, and after what felt like an eternity, Jack was finally able to breathe again. "I think I've had enough excitement for one day to last me a couple of life times." He joked, but with someone like Jack, one could probably take the phrase literally.

The poor Arendellian collapses in both relief and exhaustion; resting his weary back muscles on the windowsill he used to hide himself. That was too close. If it were not for that rope, then Jack didn't know what would've happened. Which reminds him… who dropped the rope exactly? Wary of his surroundings, Jack stood up; his vision going over the many shadows in the tower's steeple room.

He was not alone in this place, and Jack would be a fool if ever he thought he was.

There was no need to be rude, though; whoever was up here did help him after all. "H-hello? Is… anyone there?" Jack asked cautiously, and for a few moments, there was no response. Perhaps they didn't hear him? He tries again, "I wanted to thank you for saving me back there. Hey, you don't need to hide; I promise I'm not dangerous." Movement at the corner of his eyes immediately captures Jack's attention. He was only allowed a glimpse, however, before whatever it was hid itself again in the shadows. But, wait, what was that on the floor?

Jack walks over to the object as close as he deemed necessary, and gingerly – ever so gingerly, he touches the mysterious thing with his hand. "Wait a minute." As soon as his skin made contact and felt the texture, Jack knew immediately what it was, but what stopped him from coming to any conclusions was the fact that there was so much of it. "Is this – is this hair?" Yes it was; what he held in his hands was in fact a luxurious cascade of beautiful golden hair. More boldly now, the man grabs a handful of the golden threads and then tugs. Surprise paints itself onto Jack's face when he received a tug and a small "Ow!" in return.

His focus drew towards the direction where the tug and voice had come from, and his eyes immediately land on a shadow trying to hide itself in the corner of the room. It took his eyes some adjusting to the darkness before he could tell with any accuracy what the silhouette was, but once his eyes saw well enough in the dimly lit tower, he was then able to determine that the silhouette was actually a child, a girl child, it would seem, huddled into a ball in the corner.

When he speaks, Jack's voice takes on an even gentler tone now that he knew what he was dealing with. "Hey there, miss." He greeted. "You must be the little hero who tossed me the rope back there. Thanks by the way. I don't know if you realize but you actually saved my life!" Jack attempted a smile to coax the small girl out of hiding, but wasn't too sure if it was working since he couldn't tell if the girl was looking at him in the first place. All the same, Jack would not be discouraged. "Hey, it's okay; no need to be scared. Tell you what – why don't we start with our names first, hmm? My name is John Gibbs; nice to meet you."

Finally, he gets a reaction as the child lifts her head up from her knees and her dusky emerald eyes shimmer in what light that managed to traipse through the tower's one window. "John?"

That voice, he knew that voice. Jack's expression immediately morphs into one of recognition

A person could count on one hand the times Jack was ever rendered speechless. Well now, make that two hands, because as the girl stood from where she was hiding and stepped into the light, there was no better adjective to describe Jack's countenance than – speechless.

Her name escapes his lips, a breathless whisper. "Rapunzel?"

There you go!

First order of business, Thank you Aliya for naming Mr. Gibbs! And thank all of you wonderful folks who reviewed, faved, and followed my story!

Also, another disclaimer: I do not own tangled or any of its characters.

So what do you guys think? Did I make a booboo bringin' in tangled into the story?

Review and tell me what you think!

Who else thinks that Diana is a cool mom?

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"Djävla helvete!"

Ask Pewdiepie he would know what this means!