Considering the prologue was focus on a character from the books, with only hints of Jack's presence, I didn't expect there to be much response – but you guys totally blew me away! Thank you so much for supporting this story so quickly.
Okay, I have to admit: Maybe the prologue was totally unnecessary. But I enjoyed writing it so much, I just couldn't get rid of it! But now we're to Jack, and we should be staying with him and Rapunzel for the rest of the story.
Right now I'm on vacation from work, so I have free time to work on stories – but don't expect a new character every day. This is just while we get started. Now, on with the show!
Chapter 1
This probably hadn't been his smartest idea, Jack decided, as the wind picked up around him. He tightened his grip on the branch above him to maintain his balance perched in the old birch tree.
Not that he had a reputation for intelligence. Quite the opposite, actually.
Resolving the border dispute with Spring had taken several hours of forced civility, and ignoring veiled comments from the Spring soldiers and officials. As well as needless nitpicking. Jack had been there strictly as Nightlight's moral support (who had decided that was a good job for him?), so he hadn't had to speak, but he had still been forced to listen to it all. Afterwards, he had needed space to clear his head.
Relations between Spring and Winter had never been especially friends. All the four kingdoms had some problem with each other. There was always some disagreement over something. But for the past sixteen years, when it came to Winter and Spring, every disagreement had boiled down to one thing.
Spring's Lost Princess. And the fact King Thomas still believed that his daughter had been taken into the Winter Woods.
Jack had been four at the time, so he hadn't understood why the whole palace was in an uproar. (Just that it meant people weren't paying much to him, which he both liked and disliked.) Someone had managed to make him understand what "missing princess" meant. But it hadn't been until he was older, and his tutors had covered the subject, that Jack had fully understood.
The Spring guards stations at the border reported that they had seen the kidnapper flee into the Winter Woods. So Thomas had threatened war if King Lunar hadn't cooperated with the search. For almost a year Spring soldiers had been allowed to cross the border with little restriction, and Winter soldiers had joined the search as well. Tensions had mounted between the two group, and Winter citizens complained about their treatment at the hand of the Spring soldiers.
Squabbles between the soldiers had not helped anything.
Jack had not helped by muttering, in King Thomas's presence, that they were making too big a deal over one girl. He had been five. Nothing a five year old said should be given much weight. But he got the impression that King Thomas has never forgiven him. Actually, he suspected a lot of people hadn't forgiven him.
Either way, Jack was tired of thinking about politics.
The sun was setting, and what passed as Winter's warm season was beating a hasty retreat south. Back to summer.
Papery bard peeled off the birch in tight scrolls, quivering in the wind that continued to pick up. Jack listened to the subtle changes of that wind. Changes in direction and strength. But there was no change in its promise of a blizzard.
The first storm of the cold season.
Once it hit, the kingdom would go into a state of near hibernation to survive. Neither Spring or Summer would attack until the worst of it had passed. Their own cold seasons would make it inadvisable. The war would be held off a few more months. Enough time to come up with another temporary situation.
For now, Jack had more important things to worry about.
The palace was a two day walk into the storm. Any towns he could get shelter in were out of reach.
Maybe someday he would learn to listen when instinct told him it was time to look for shelter. Instead, he always convinced himself there was plenty of time.
The blizzard was coming down from the north, darkening the sky with heavy clouds. His only chance was to head south. There was a cave that he could reach in about twenty minutes if he ran. And, unless someone else had been there in the past couple months, there should still be the split firewood he had left there last time. He couldn't remember if he had left any other supplies there, though he had plenty in his pack.
Jack clambered down the birch, grabbing his backpack, bow, quiver, and staff from where he had left them at the tree's base. He was very glad he hadn't hoisted the bow onto Nightlight when he had gone off on his own. Maybe he was getting a little smarter. It might not be his weapon of choice, but he had a feeling he would need it over the next couple days.
He ran lightly across the dew inches of snow already on the ground. Around him the wind continued to pick up, pressing at his back as it howled. The first dew flakes of snow began to appear in the air, pure white against swirling shades of grey.
This territory was familiar to him. He had been exploring it for as long as he had been able to get out on his own. He was familiar with where the ground rose and fell. Here he could leap off jutting rocks, and which ones were too high to do so.
He might have enjoyed this part a little too much. The thrill of running from something he knew he shouldn't challenge. Something so much more powerful than himself. But the rising heat in his lungs was better than sitting through another dull meeting with his father's council, or a lecture from Consul Ombric. He had endured enough of those all his life – but they had increased lately.
The blizzard hit.
He needed to stop fuming when he was running from a blizzard – that always made things worse as the storm responded to him.
The wind blew snowflakes in every direction, stinging his face as they hit, the cold nipping at his nose.
His legs were starting to burn in protest. Especially now the wind was no longer at his back.
Finally, exhausted, he saw the cluster of cedar trees that marked where the cave was. His foot slipped as the ground declined, but he grabbed a low hanging branch both to steady himself, and to help slow his momentum. Breathing heavily, he slid through the cave entrance.
Exhaling in relief, he shook his head to dislodge the snowflakes clinging to his hood and moved to push back the fabric.
Before he could, the sound of something slicing through the air gave him just enough time to duck.
"Woah!"
Whatever it was swung right through the air where his head had been a split second before.
The next time the weapon swung, he was prepared. He raised a hand to stop it, cringing as whatever it was smacked against his palm. In the same moment, he swept his staff in the direction of his attacker. Glowing blue frost spread across the gnarled wood, offering some illumination.
"Hey!" The voice was decidedly female, though she shied away from the light before he caught a glimpse of her face.
Something inside his chest shifted. He didn't know what, but it felt almost as though something clicked into place. But he didn't have time to think about it.
Instead, he flicked his eyes to whatever he was holding off with his other hand. It wasn't sharp, but it was heavy.
He laughed in disbelief.
"A frying pan?"
As soon as his hold on the cast iron relaxed, the girl jerked back, putting several feet between them.
"I- I'm not afraid of you," she said, though the tremor in her voice said otherwise.
Still, Jack gave her credit for trying. Stars knew he was an expert at faking it.
"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you," he said."
In the shadows of the cave, he saw her head shift slightly. Sizing him up?
"I just need somewhere to wait out the storm," he said, leaning his staff against the wall of the cave, hoping she would recognize that as a sign of peace. He took off his bow and quiver as well.
She hesitated. "Do you think it will last long?"
"Through the night, probably," he said. He waited a moment, but she didn't move or respond. "Do you mind if I start a fire? There should be some wood back there."
"There is," she said, stepping aside carefully.
He made sure to leave as much space between them as he stepped past her, further into the cave. There wasn't as much wood as he remembered, but there was enough to last through the night. Someone else had probably camped out in the cave at some point.
"Do you live here?" she asked.
Jack snickered. Sometimes he almost wished he did. "No, I just stay here some times."
He picked up a couple of the logs, and a handful of kindling.
"Can I help?" she asked, as he set them closer to the cave mouth, where he usually built a fire.
He didn't glance over as he skimmed his hands over the dirt ground in search of the stones he had stacked to the side. "Can you bring a couple more logs?"
He had found the stones and started to make a circle from them when she brought over three or four pieces of birch wood.
"Why do you stay here?" she asked, setting them with the others he had already brought over.
The corned of Jack's mouth twitched in a grin. Her voice wasn't too young – maybe a couple years younger than himself. But there was a child-like curiosity about her questions.
"Sometimes I camp out while I'm travelling," he said. "Or I come here when I need space. My home is half a day's ride north, so it's far enough, but close enough to get to." It was one of several places he used as retreats.
"Do you travel a lot?"
"Yeah."
He finished the stone circle, and reached for the kindling. Stacking it up, he opened the side pocket of his backpack where he kept his flint. A couple strikes with his knife sent sparks flying at the tinder. The kindling wasn't totally dry, having been left in the damp air of the cave, but it took to the sparks.
"Would you teach me how to do that?" she asked.
Jack glanced up from nursing the flames. "What? Start a fire?"
"I can start a fire," she said. "But I normally have matches."
There was enough light now for him to see her. A heart shaped face, framed with golden hair.
She wasn't from winter, that was obvious.
"Let me get this going first," he said. "Hand me that?" He gestured to the wood.
She knelt down to pick up one of the birch logs, handing it to him.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Jack," he said. He debated momentarily saying more… but decided to leave it at that. He didn't feel like being Prince Jackson Overland Frost I at the moment. Not that he ever did. "You?"
"I'm Rapunzel."
Rapunzel.
Jack's hands still, and he looked up at her again.
It was a fairly common name in Spring. It had been even before King Thomas and Queen Primrose had chosen it for their daughter. There was no reason to think…
But for some reason, he was thinking it.
As the birch logs caught, there was enough light for Jack to make out the girl's delicate features, and wide green eyes that looked at him with child like naïveté. He would pin her age between sixteen and eighteen, but he was sure she wasn't any older.
"Can you hand me one more log?" he asked.
While she did, Jack opened his backpack and pulled out the sack that held his supplies. He never left the palace without provisions for a couple days, since he never knew when he would end up going off on his own. There were a few strips of dried meat, half a loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, and some dried fruit. Several bottles of water were deeper in his bag. He had already opened one earlier, but he pulled one out for his companion.
"So why are you here?" he asked. "Did you get lost?"
When she didn't respond, he looked up from his pack to see she had averted her eyes, and was wringing a lock of hair in her hands. Very long hair, he noted, but didn't follow it to see just how long it was.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
Her expression was a very obvious "no", but she didn't give it voice.
"I'd rather not talk about it," she said.
Jack frowned again. Something about this whole situation was off, but he didn't press. She still had the frying pan at her feet. As he looked at her, though, he noticed she was shivering slightly, even though she now sat in front of the fire. Her dress was long sleeved, but it obviously wouldn't hold up against a blizzard.
Jack shrugged out of his cloak and held it out to her. "Here."
"Oh, no, I—"
"Please don't say you're fine," he said, pressing the cloak towards her again.
She accepted hesitantly. "What about you?"
"I have chivalry to keep me warm," he said, laughing when she looked confused. "The cold doesn't bother me."
The dark blue fabric wrapped around her like a blanket, everything except her face vanishing. She immediately seemed to relax into the thick fabric. She buried her nose in the white fur at the collar and inhaled deeply.
Jack quirked an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
"Why don't you get cold?" she asked.
Jack shrugged, holding some of the food out to her.
Her hands appeared from inside the cloak and accepted the piece of bread, the strip of meat, and the handful of dried fruit. "Thank you."
While she focused on the food, he took the chance to look her over again. Her golden hair, and lightly tanned skin.
"you're not from Winter, are you?" It was obvious, but he was trying to get answers without setting her on edge.
"I've lived here all my life," she said, as though that answered the question. "As long as I can remember, anyway."
"What about your parents?"
She thought about that as she chewed on a piece of fruit. "Mother never told me where she was from."
"And your father?"
"I don't have a father," she said. Not in a "something happened to my father" way, but in a way that implied she believed there had not been a man involved in her life at any point.
Somehow, saying that was impossible felt as though it would shatter her innocence, even if he didn't go into detail.
"You look as though you're from Spring," he said.
Rapunzel cocked her head to the side. "Why do you say that?"
"Your hair, mostly," he said, looking at the golden locks that vanished under the cloak.
For some reason, that seemed to make her nervous, and she tried to shrink further into the blue fabric.
True, golden blonde hair wasn't exclusive to Spring. It occurred in all the kingdoms, save for a few smaller ones like Punjam Hy Loo, where everyone had black hair. But something about her screamed "Spring" to him, and her hair stood out more than anything.
"So, where are you headed?" he asked, since her ethnicity wasn't getting them anywhere.
Again, she hesitated. But this time, he was able to read her expression.
"You don't know," he guessed, leaning back against the cave wall.
Rapunzel bit her lip, turning the piece of bread over in her hands.
"I was going to offer you escort," he said. "Looks like you need more then that."
"I'll figure it out," she said, a little too quickly.
Jack barely refrained from a sarcastic "uh-huh".
"You're in the middle of the woods, in the cold season, and you have nowhere to go?" That seemed terribly naïve.
She didn't meet his eyes.
"And no supplies," he said, not looking away from her. "You realize I can't just leave you here, right?"
"Why not?" It wasn't a challenge – it was a genuine question.
"Because my conscience would never let me live it down," he said. It was the simple answer. "No offense, but you won't last a week out here on your own. Not in the cold season."
She pulled her cloak tighter, her expression truly miserable.
Jack sighed. "Let's get some sleep. We can figure it out in the morning."
"Okay," she said, the word muffled by the fur of his cloak.
He pulled the bedroll from his backpack and spread it out by the fire. "I'll trade you. You can use the bedroll if I can have my cloak back."
She seemed reluctant to part with the cloak, but she handed it back as she took off her boots and climbed into the bed roll.
Jack stayed against the cave wall, holding off sleep a while longer.
Outside the wind continued to howl, snowflakes tossed ruthlessly outside. The fire held off the worst of the cold.
Rapunzel lay with her back toward him, but he still waited until she was absolutely sure she was asleep.
He hoped he was wrong. He hoped that sensation in his chest earlier wasn't what he thought. But he braced himself as he unbuckled his jacket. With a deep, nervous breath, he pulled back the collars of the two shirts he wore underneath.
He hadn't been wrong.
The glow was subtle, but it was very much there. Soft purple light under his skin, radiating from his heart.
He looked at Rapunzel, wondering if there was some way this was a mistake.
Probably not.
She shifted in her sleep, wrapping the bedroll righter around her petite frame.
Jack rubbed his forehead as he sighed.
This was bad.
This was bad on so many levels.