The Fetch

by vifetoile89

A/N: This chapter and the next will actually take place in the same universe as "Sketching" and "Icebound." This story takes place between the two; the next one will be the last, chronologically. And that means, more opportunities for angst.

By the way, this particular idea of what a "fetch" is, more like a familiar, is borrowed from Deborah Harkness' "A Discovery of Witches" series. It's a terrific trilogy in the works, kind of like a more academic, grown-up Harry Potter with a strong alchemical twist.

It had begun with Mother Gothel. It had not been one of her more dramatic gestures, only a backup plan she had put aside in an unlikely scenario that happened to come to pass. Gothel might not have even realized the transformation that she had triggered.

Then again, maybe she had.

The four of them had fled the tower in a hurry, after Pitch's attack. In the rush, Rapunzel had left behind everything except for a frying pan and the clothes she wore, and it wasn't until they had a moment to catch their breaths that she had cried out with shock. Pascal. She'd forgotten Pascal, hibernating in her bedroom.

Merida and Hiccup were both strangers in a strange land, they didn't know the way back to the tower. Rapunzel was hardly better in that respect. Besides, none of them could hope to withstand an attack, if one of Pitch's night-mares was still there. There was nothing they could do.

Rapunzel wiped her tears and put on a brave face. Jack hung back when Merida and Hiccup comforted her.

And then, when the rest of them slept, Jack set out, alone, back to the tower.

There wasn't much affection between Pascal and Jack – one was a spirit of winter, the other was a cold-blooded chameleon, you do the math – the lizard was loyal and sweet to Rapunzel when Jack couldn't be there, and he deserved far better than to be locked up in a cold tower, alone. And Jack would do anything to erase that sad look in Rapunzel's eyes.

It was downright eerie to approach the tower by moonlight, and to not see any light seeping out from its windows. Jack vaulted up to the chimney. He steeled himself for the descent – he preferred to keep his clothes literally as clean as the driven snow – and dropped down.

He tumbled out into the tower's main room, coughing and spluttering and wondering how on earth North managed it. He shuddered to look around. He was used to darkness and nighttime, but the darkness in here was so absolute – like a prison. He lost no time in spiriting up to Rapunzel's room. She'd shown him, once, Pascal's resting place for the winter, in a spare clothing drawer. Jack wrapped the sleeping chameleon in wool and tucked Pascal into the pocket of his cloak. There, part one, accomplished.

Now, to exit the same way…

He alighted on the balcony that was just outside of Rapunzel's room, and was planning his trajectory, to just swing down and angle himself right to re-enter the chimney –

When a candle lit up in the corner.

Jack started, falling back, off of the balcony. He focused on the light, and saw that it came from the level of the main room, right beside the mantelpiece. He made his way downstairs, his staff held out at an awkward angle while his left arm guarded Pascal, asleep. But the sight of the woman took him aback.

"Gothel?" he asked.

"Hello, Jack," she said, as nonchalantly as if this were a perfectly normal visit on a perfectly normal night. She held a candle in her left hand. Was she already visibly older? Or was the candlelight playing tricks on Jack's eyes?

"Lovely evening to visit some old haunts, isn't it?" she asked, smiling in an amused way.

Jack decided to ignore her. This didn't change anything. He was just going to make his way towards the chimney, as casual as ever.

"Look at you, always in a rush. Haven't you got all the time in the world?" she lowered the candle to the half-burnt logs in the fireplace. They kindled at once. Jack started at the sudden flame and brightness that filled the room. He clutched his staff to him. He wasn't sure he was fireproof or not: in all the years of his existence, he'd never once wanted to try.

He backed up against the big picture window. He pressed a hand to it, as Gothel said, "What, open the window and leave me alone to freeze to death? Oh, Jack, could you really live with yourself if you did that? Could Rapunzel live with you if you did that?"

"Rapunzel left you," he cheerfully reminded her. "You won't be looking so rosy in a couple of days."

"Oh, but she doesn't realize what she's doing, poor lamb. She's so… hmm…" Gothel smiled indulgently, shaking her head, "so innocent that way. She doesn't quite understand what death is. Or immortality."

"Don't talk like it's a crying shame!" Jack snapped at her. "Who didn't teach her that, huh?"

"Oh, sure, lay the blame on me," Gothel said, getting up from her chair and stepping towards Jack. "But, Jack, I'm worried about you."

"What?" He tried to surreptitiously tap his staff against the window to open it, but when he looked, he realized all he'd done was succeed in freezing the two shutters together at the latch. Damn it!

"Are you sure you understand what death is?"

He fell still. He stared at the reflection of the firelight on the mirror. "Of course I do," he said hollowly. "I've already died."

"Ah, yes, you did die – once, Jack. And you're not about to change that any time soon, are you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" He turned back to her and she was alarmingly close, her dress blood-red in the candlelight, her smile taking over her entire face.

"With anything? With your adorable new friends, the people who can see you, how novel… with Rapunzel," Gothel pulled one of her curls out to its full length, smiling like a cat, "and the way that you look at her…"

"What's so remarkable about how I look at her?" Jack asked.

"Tut tut, so defensive… if you had a heart it'd be hammering now, wouldn't it? If you had blood you'd be hearing it now poud, right now."

"Gothel, you're not making any sense."

"Your heart won't give out, because you don't have one." Gothel extended her pointer finger and rapped his chest, just at his sternum. "You'll just keep going, for the rest of eternity. But your friends? The stargazing Viking and the beast princess, and my sweet Flower that you treasure so much… their hearts are very alive, very strong, and very, very mortal."

Then, Gothel vanished

And the fire whisked out of existence.

Jack screamed, and then clamped a hand over his mouth. The tower was completely dark, except the thinnest trickle of moonlight coming from an upper story window. Jack raced towards the fireplace, and flung himself up, emerging out the top of the chimney in a puff of soot and ice.

He slid into place at the edge of the roof, catching his breath and trying to get his fear under control.

He felt a stirring in his pocket. He looked down and saw Pascal, awake and miffed, in his hand.

"H-hey, little guy," Jack said to him. "Look… I can explain… I'm taking you to Rapunzel, right now. She wants to see you. And… whoa, did my scream wake you up?"

Narrowing his eyes, Pascal shook his head.

"What? Hey… you didn't, um, hear any of the conversation, between me and… and her, did you?"

Pascal nodded. But he didn't look contemptuous or irritated – he looked more concerned.

Jack fell back against the snow-covered roof. "Where'd Gothel pick up magic like that?" he asked. "Vanishing and, and fire, that is sorceress level stuff, I had no idea she was that—"

The chameleon rolled his eyes and then, with a practiced motion, stuck its tongue sharply at the bottom of Jack's chin.

"Hey!" Jack sat up. "What was that for?" He glared at Pascal, who turned from green to white as Jack watched, matching Jack's own skin tone. And the boy's eyes widened.

"Hey, you're right… she could have faked that. When I flew into the chimney, the air was cold… there couldn't have been a fire in there… And wait…"

He leaped down from the tower and landed lightly on the ground. There was a tussle of bricks that had been flung onto the snow, exposing a door into the tower. Footsteps led into and out of the door. Gothel had been here… and had left.

"That must have been a, a copy of herself she left behind… what's the word? A fetch. Yeah…" he looked down at Pascal, who was shivering hard and turning into a ball. "Oh! Sorry! I'll get you to Zelchen soon as can be. But, hey, Pascal?"

The lizard blinked up at him sleepily.

"Thanks."

A nod, and then Pascal went to sleep, with complete trust, in Jack's hand. The boy spirit flew off, back to the camp.

When he arrived there, he picked out Rapunzel from a mile away – well, very nearly – and landed softly as a bird beside her, slipping Pascal into the crook of her arm. The chameleon cuddled up close to her warmth, but Rapunzel herself frowned in her sleep at the cold intrusion.

Jack perched on his staff, standing watch for the rest of the night – even though, technically, he didn't need to, because Toothless tended to sleep with one eye open. Literally. It was freaky.

He listened to his friends – his friends, he'd never thought he could actually use those words again – breathing, Merida's erratic snores, Hiccup's incomprehensible murmuring, Rapunzel's breath, deep and even. Her golden hair wound all around the three of them and over them, trapping their bodies' warmth, and Jack wanted nothing more than to burrow down and join them.

But instead, he lifted his face to the moon, and listened to their breathing. Something about the rhythm of it, when he noticed that he didn't breathe, made him feel like something inside of him seized up, even if only for an instant at a time.

The night passed slowly.

Merida was the first to wake up, followed by Hiccup, nudged by his dragon. Rapunzel, who woke up so early in the summer, was a real sleepyhead in the winter, but she came to fairly quickly, pushing away the chameleon that scratched at behind her ears.

"Stop that, Pascal—but – wait – Pascal?"

She sat up, and the chameleon presented himself on her kneecap, beaming and glowing.

"Pascal!" she pressed him gently to her heart, but then said, "But, wait, how did you get here? You never could have walked…"

The chameleon shook his head, and pointed his tail in Jack's direction.

Rapunzel looked up at him with wonder turning to delight, and he felt sheepish in the fullness of it, but before he could say a suave, cool, 'it was on my way' sort of thing or maybe 'I figured Toothless could use the company' she leapt to her feet and ran and hugged him, and maybe it was the fact that even when he was seen he wasn't often touched, let alone held, maybe it was her sudden nearness, and he could smell her and the peculiar, flowery scent her hair gave off, and maybe it was Hiccup's smug little grin – but Jack's whole world narrowed in on Rapunzel, and her heart, beating, beating, beating, where he could feel it. And then it hit him, the fear, articulate and made horribly clear:

Her heartbeats were numbered.

For now. Her smile, her hugs, her voice, her brilliant eyes, were only for now.

He caught his breath, in a totally meaningless gesture, and, gripping her arms, pushed her back. He counterbalanced the harshness of the act with a smile and some witty remark – he forgot it even as he said it – and was rewarded by a half-exasperated, half-affectionate smile from her.

"Thank you, Jack," she said. "Knowing Pascal's here… it just means the world to me." She smiled at him – for now for now for now for now – and then it faded – it was only for now—replaced with fear in her wide eyes. "Did you meet Mother?" she asked.

Jack hesitated an instant. "No," he said carefully, not looking at Pascal. "No, she wasn't there."

"Okay," she gave a sigh of relief. "That would have been, just… I mean, wow! More drama than we need." She ran a hand over his shoulder, down to his chest, and then drew her hand back. She smiled at him bashfully, and then turned to the lizard on her shoulder. "Pascal, how about you meet my new friends?"

Jack stepped back, pulling his face into a smile, trying to ignore the whisper of fear that was settling inside of him. He put a hand to his chest, right where Rapunzel had touched him – and where Gothel's fetch had touched him a moment earlier – and then looked down in surprise. A rigid scale of ice stuck to the cloth, and he wasn't sure – had he made that?

He let out a brief laugh, and focused on the staring contest at work between Pascal and Toothless. It was nothing, he was sure.