Happy Holidays, RotBTD Fandom!!!
Hello everyone! This is my Secret Santa gift for @siodymph’s RotBTD Gift Exchange!! Or a preview from it anyway--the full fic is actually much longer and is still a work in progress ^^;
I got @disney0bsessoid5150! I admittedly stalked your page a bit and it seems like you ship Jackunzel and enjoy angst, so I was just like ohhhhhhh yes, I can work with that!!! Truthfully I used it as a bit of an excuse to finally start on an angsty Jackunzel fic I’ve wanted to write for a loooooong time now. I think it’s approaching like...4 years that I’ve had the concept now?? Anyways, I guess I’m finally getting around to it! And I owe ya one for giving me an excuse to finally get up off my butt and get started on it XD
So I came across and really fell in love with the idea of icicle!Jack a few years ago, where basically Jack gets covered in icicles after his power goes out-of-hand in some way and like...double-freeze him, or Pitch does some shenanigans to use the icicles to make the poor boy even MORE isolated. Largely inspired by NightmareHound’s comic strips about Icicle Jack on deviantart as well! And of course my Jackunzel Trash brain instantly was like “Angsty Jackunzel fic??? Angsty Jackunzel fic??? Do I smell ANGSTY JACKUNZEL FIC???” as soon as I saw Icicle!Jack, so here is said angsty Jackunzel fic. The full first chapter will be posted on my fanfiction.net account Infrared-Ultraviolet soon!
Now without further ado--please enjoy this preview from my new story, Melting Icicles!
(Preview starts under Keep Reading marker)
The winter seems to last an eternity.
February is beginning, and some of the ice is starting to melt. Jack Frost treks through the forest again, heading for the creek.
Spring isn’t coming anytime soon, not on the Nightmare King’s watch. And if this means Jack Frost has to refreeze the entire forest and dump another 2 feet of snow on it, so be it.
He’s getting awfully tired of doing Pitch’s bidding, and although he admits it to no one but himself, he feels he could use some sun after all these months of dark. But if he loses the Nightmare King, he knows he will be alone again.
Someone who fills his mind with vicious whispers is better than no one at all.
The ice across the top of the creek is cracked and splintered in places, revealing water starting to rush with spring fervor. Certainly well on its way to thawing completely, if the late winter sunshine keeps up.
He spots a plump female rabbit a little ways down the bank, ears twitching and nose to the ground. She sniffs cautiously around the dead reeds and gingerly puts a paw down on the ice, pressing down as if to test it.
Seemingly satisfied, she takes another step forward, hopping slightly with her back legs so that her front half is now entirely on the ice. Jack feels himself tense up.
She wants to cross, he realizes.
The rabbit takes a few more paces forward, tiny, furred nose twitching as she goes. She takes one more step, and there’s a small snap beneath her.
“No, no, go back!” Jack hisses, feeling anxiety creep up in him like a brewing blizzard. “It’s not safe to cross yet!”
Frustration prickles at him as he watches the rabbit, willing her to back up to the banks. Couldn’t she wait until after he re-iced the creek to try and get wherever she needed to go?
The rabbit skirts the small fissure and continues on her way, albeit more timidly. Another louder crack sounds and she freezes again, nose twitching furiously.
Jack creeps carefully along the treeline to get a better look at where she is. The ice is nearly as clear as a window, and he can see the waves of the chilled stream rushing by below it.
It may as well be paper-thin.
The rabbit takes another step forward, and a crack spreads out in front of her, splitting and bifurcating like the branches of an eerie tree. The crevices grow and grow, scattering off to the side and spreading into a wide semi-circle almost completely surrounding her.
The entire ice cover is about to cave in.
No! Jack lunges forward, jabbing his staff at the thawing stream and sending a fresh wave of ice surging down it. The rabbit’s head turns and her eyes widen at the fast-encroaching wisps of blue-white. She leaps backward, spooked.
In one slow, horrifying moment, the ice gives way beneath her, and she plunges into the stream. Jack can’t quite put his finger on why, but the image chills him to the very bone.
It’s almost as if there’s a haunting sense of…familiarity.
Snapping out of his shock, he jumps into action. He slams his staff down against the icy creek, and it shatters like glass, fragments of ice spilling into the rushing water below. Crouching down, he plunges his hand into the water and freezes it into a thick dam of ice.
The rabbit lets out a cry as she collides with it seconds later, the wind knocked out of her temporarily. Jack scoops her up and pulls her out of the water, starting to massage her soaked, cold fur.
“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs. “You’re safe now.”
He summons a burst of wind from his staff and lets it sweep across the rabbit, dragging the cold water away. The rabbit shudders as it passes, paws twitching uncomfortably.
“I know it’s cold,” he says meekly, an apology heavy in the words. “But you’re going to be alright. I promise you.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” he can almost hear the Boogeyman saying.
Well, you’re wrong. I’m going to keep this one.
He starts to run his hand back and forth through the rabbit’s fur, trying to generate some semblance of warmth. The creature trembles, letting out a low whimper.
The shivers start small, nothing more than tiny tremors. But with each stroke, they grow stronger and stronger, until the creature is shaking like an autumn leaf.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m trying.”
The rabbit jerks suddenly, starting to twitch and squirm toward the edge of his hands. He reaches out his thumbs to try and grab her, but she’s too quick. In one fluid movement, she twists out of his hands, toppling to the ground.
There’s a shock of red as she hits the ground, and Jack sees crimson lines rapidly beginning to form in her gray-brown coat. Places where his icicles grazed her in the fall, he realizes.
Not again…
“No, please…” His voice is shaking, becoming desperate. Frantic. “I want to help. Please let me help.”
He has to be able to do more than hurt. He has to.
Pitch has to be wrong about him.
The rabbit starts to drag herself away, leaving a trail of cherry-red in the snow. Tears brimming in his eyes, Jack reaches out and gently scoops her up again, careful not to touch the gashes.
Maybe I can at least wash them off before she goes…
The rabbit goes limp in his grip, seemingly with little fight left in her. For one horrifying moment, he wonders if she suffered the same fate as the squirrel, until he feels the shallow rise and fall of her breaths against his hands. His entire body slackens with relief.
“Allow me.”
An unfamiliar voice sounds behind him, and he turns.
The snow-melting girl from the clearing is looking right at him, long blonde hair streaming out behind her like a river of sunlight.
She can see me…
He expects her to shudder or wince at the sight of the coating of icicles, but she doesn’t even appear to give them a second glance. She steps forward, bare feet quickened with a sudden sense of urgency.
She kneels before him and sits on her knees, starting to wrap the ends of her long hair around his hands and the shivering rabbit in tight ropes. He doesn’t resist, too surprised to protest. He feels the rabbit finally relax against him, something about the touch of the girl’s hair seeming to finally calm the animal down.
Then the girl begins to sing.
A golden-orange glow glides down her hair, brighter than the purest amber. When it reaches his hands, a sudden warmth surges through him. A warmth unlike anything he’s ever known.
He leans into it, feeling like he’s stepping into the sunlight for the very first time.
“Flower gleam and glow Let your powers shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine
Heal what has been hurt Change the fates’ design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine What once was mine”
Her words are haunting, making him feel an emotion he finds he doesn’t quite have a name for.
The glow fades as the girl finishes, and she delicately pulls her hair away. The rabbit perks up, long ears sticking high in the air and nose wriggling curiously. The cuts on her side have completely vanished, any trace of red seeming to have been carried away with the winter breeze.
She hops out of Jack’s hands and bounds cheerfully away, eyes bright and eager again. In moments, the icy stream, the cold winter spirit hands, and the sharp icicles appear to have been completely forgotten.
“You…saved her.” He looks up at the girl in wonder. “From…from me.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “No, we saved her. I saw what you did with the ice dam. She would have drowned if not for you.”
“Only because I spooked her and made her fall in in the first place,” he mutters.
“Because you were trying to make the ice thicker so she could cross,” the girl says gently. “You were only trying to help.”
He scoffs. “Yeah, and look how well that went.”
Her smile widens, and Jack could swear he picks up just the slightest hint of a smirk in it. “She’s alive, isn’t she? I’d call that a net success.”
“Only thanks to you,” he mumbles.
He looks over her, and he finds his curiosity gets the better of him. She may be strange, but he can’t help but be intrigued. “Who are you, anyways?”
Her face falls suddenly, pink-purple dress seeming to sag like wilting flowers. “You mean you don’t know?”
He gazes at her, puzzled. “Should I?”
She stops and thinks on this for several moments before finally shaking her head. “No…no, I guess you wouldn’t.”
“How can you see me?”
She looks taken aback for a period before smiling sadly. For just a moment, she looks like she might be on the verge of tears.
She appears contemplative, like she’s choosing her words carefully. Finally she says, with the air of holding quite a bit back, “I’m a spirit too.”
“A spirit? A…Guardian?” He suddenly backs away, growing wary of her.
My replacement…
“Well, no…not exactly.” She looks away, frowning. “I help them sometimes, when they need it. But I’m not…one of them. I’m Rapunzel,” she adds, looking back at him and smiling warmly.
“Jack Frost,” he mumbles, not sure how to response to this entire situation. Never, not once in his 300 years of existence, has someone just…come up and cordially introduced themselves to him.
It’s amusing, really. Something that must seem so mundane to all the people he sees walking about the streets of the towns and cities he wanders through seems completely alien to him.
“I know. I’ve been watching you.”
He gives her a strange look, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes widening.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…! That must sound so creepy! I wasn’t—gosh, I didn’t mean to be following you around! I’m so sorry!”
She buries her face in her hands, as if slowly realizing the size of the hole she’s dug herself into.
Jack can’t help but chuckle at the utter unexpectedness of the entire scenario. “I don’t think it’s creepy. Just…strange. I mean, why would you want to trail me?”
She peeks at him from between her fingers, expression shy. “I see those frost patterns you leave on the trees. They’re beautiful. I…did accidentally melt a few, though.”
She looks away again, embarrassed. He remembers her hand recoiling after touching his frost the other day, her gasp of horror. He thought she’d been appalled by the freezing cold…but perhaps she had only been dismayed she had started to melt it.
The thought that someone appreciated his work was more comforting than she knew.
He looks over her and something suddenly clicks in his mind—the ice-melting hands and feet, the flower-colored dress, the life-giving healing hair, the light green eyes. “You’re a spring spirit,” he realizes.
She smiles at him, shrugging. “I am, but…I think all of the seasons are beautiful. I love yours, too. I came out a bit earlier than I was supposed to so I could have a look at everything you’ve done. It’s gorgeous.”
If Jack Frost still had color in his skin, he’s sure he’d be blushing. How embarrassing.
He tries his best to deflect the compliment, smirking at her instead. “Oh, what gave away that I was a winter spirit?”
She smirks right back at him. “Oh, nothing, really. Just a shot in the dark.”
It’s a moment before it dawns on him that she hasn’t started to retreat after she finished her healing. She hasn’t apprehensively scooted away from the protruding ice spines, hasn’t eyed him with the same careful fear as someone creeping past a chained beast that could rip free at any time and lunge. If anything, she’s made herself more comfortable next to him—hugging her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her hands and regarding him thoughtfully.
She’s just naïve, he thinks bitterly. She’ll find out soon enough that all I can do is hurt people. She can’t fight my nature any more than I can.
Nonetheless, the girl seems kind, if lacking somewhat in worldly wisdom. He hates the thought of anything bad happening to her.
“I’m surprised you let yourself get so close,” he says, the implied warning clear in his voice. “You know…considering all this.”
He gestures at his torso, sweeping a hand in front of his lower chest to show off an especially honed row of icicles. Rapunzel seems unfazed.
“I’m not worried,” she says nonchalantly. “I think I can manage to not get close enough to jab myself.”
“But what if I got closer to you?” he retorts. “What if I attacked you? You know, getting cut with these, it wouldn’t be…” He trails off, unsure what he’s trying to say. “Just…you shouldn’t trust so easily, Rapunzel. I could hurt you.”
She shrugs, looking almost annoyingly unperturbed. Smiling, she holds up a lock of blonde hair.
“I have this, remember? I think I can handle myself fine. Besides…” Her eyes soften. “You don’t seem like the type who wants to hurt people. You just seem…lonely. And sad.”
He bristles suddenly, alarmed. This girl he barely knows, who he met mere minutes ago…how had she pegged him so entirely?
“How can you know that?” he asks, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.
She smiles again, and this time, there’s something bittersweet about it. “Well…if you wanted to hurt people, you wouldn’t try and make the winter beautiful just because you can. You’d make it angry, destructive. But you wouldn’t find ways to make it into art.”
He sighs, looking away. “Those gashes on the rabbit…you know those were because of me, right? I…I didn’t mean to hurt her, but stuff like that just…happens, if you’re around me. When I try to help.”
“But you were trying to help,” she says, without missing a beat. “And that’s what matters to me.”
“So stupid,” Pitch whispers in his mind. “So tragically, trustingly stupid. People who try to see the good in monsters are only going to get devoured in the end. When she succumbs to some tragic demise, there will be nothing to blame but her own bleeding-hearted naivety.”
She makes no move to distance herself from him. No move to flee from the obvious danger. If anything…he swears he can see her inching closer.
He looks back at her, eyes growing as cold as the ice he trails throughout the forest.
“You’re making a mistake,” he says harshly. “It’s not safe around me. You want to end up like…”
Like the squirrel?
He stops short, finding himself reluctant to spill the details of the incident…no matter how relevant.
Perhaps, he finds himself thinking, she doesn’t need to know. Not yet.
Idiot. Of course she needs to know. How else will she see what abominations you’re capable of?
“…marred like that rabbit?” he says instead.
Of course you pick the story with the happy ending. Of course you pick the comparison that could persuade her to stay. What on earth makes you think she’d want to, anyhow?
“I’ll take my chances,” she says softly.
Jack hates himself for the unadulterated exhilaration that courses through him.
What the hell is wrong with you?! You shouldn’t want her to stay! She’ll get impaled in the end somehow, and it’ll be all your fault…
“You look like you need a friend, Jack Frost,” she adds, eyeing him sympathetically. “No one deserves to be alone.”
He thinks of a man cloaked in black, and he looks away guiltily.
“I do have a friend,” he argues. “And he says…he says no one else would want to be my friend. He hasn’t been proven wrong yet.”
She scowls deeply—an expression that looks almost amusingly out-of-place on such an innocent, serene face, he thinks.
“That doesn’t sound like a very good friend, if he tells you things like that,” she retorts.
He shrugs, trying his best to look indifferent. “It’s all I know. It’s better than being alone.”
“Well, then maybe it’s time for you to know something better.” She brightens up again, the frown flitting away as quickly as it had come. “You think you could use another friend?”
She gazes expectantly at him with those big green eyes of hers, and he feels a prick of annoyance at how convincing she’s being. It’s an offer that’s hard to refuse, he has to admit.
In a heartbeat, the Nightmare King is back, whispering doubts into his mind. Telling him it’ll only end in disappointment and abandonment and being alone once again.
For once, Jack ignores it.
“It’s at your own risk,” he says simply.
“I can live with that.” Rapunzel shrugs. “Will I see you again?”
His lips, long-since blue and frosted over, form the tiniest hint of a smile. “I think you will.”