Vengeance

Frying Pan

When Jack woke up, his head was pounding in rhythm to the fast approaching beat of horse hooves against the forest floor. He stood up and gingerly touched his head, trying to remember what happened. The sound of angry horses continued to draw nearer, so Jack tried to run, but quickly his dizziness overcame him and he swayed dangerously. He reached out to lean on the ivy-covered rocks beside him for support, but the leaves gave way under his touch and before he'd realized what had happened, Jack was laying inside a cave, the ivy swishing shut behind him.

Seconds later, several horses trampled past where he'd just been, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He say up slowly to avoid the vertigo and frowned. Where was he? Why couldn't he remember how he'd gotten here?

The sounds of the horses still lingered nearby, so Jack decided to see where the cave lead him. Light was filtering in ahead, and with a shrug, Jack trekked towards it.

When he came out of the dark, he couldn't help but gasp. The cave opened up to a small valley, complete with a waterfall and birdsong echoing off the cliff sides. Framed perfectly in the middle of it all was a tall tower that looked like it was considering succumbing to gravity and age.

Jack strolled towards the tower, taking in the raw beauty of the ravine as he walked. When he reached the base, he walked around, looking for a way in. Eventually he realized that he was just walking in circles.

"Who builds a tower with no door?" Jack said, squinting up at the window he could see at the top. After a minute of staring at the rough bricks, Jack began to climb.

The climb was long, but seeing as he wasn't mortal, he had more strength and stamina and the height didn't really bother him. Jack was relieved when he reached the window and found it open. When he pulled himself through the window and rolled nimbly onto the floor, his eyes widened in surprise. Despite the outside maintaining an aged, charming look, the inside was sparkling clean, as though someone had spent hours every day ensuring that not a speck of dust remained in place for long.

"Hello?" Jack called out as he slowly stood and moved towards the curving staircase. There was no answer. "Is there anyone here?" he cried again, when suddenly his foot landed on something weird. He looked down and jumped back in shock.

He was standing on... hair?

"What the...?" Jack breathed, crouching to get a better look. Suddenly, a he heard very soft footsteps behind him. He whipped around only to see the bottom of a frying pan flying towards his head.

Then all he saw was black.

~~~

Jack had the worst headache he'd ever experienced, but that wasn't what roused him. He woke up because something slimy was in his ear.

"AGH!" he shouted, violently jerking in an effort to shake off the strange lizard that was sitting on his shoulder. It was then that he realized that he had been tied to a chair with--

"Wait, is this... hair?"

"Don't--don't try anything!" a female voice called from the shadows. "Or I'll, um," she paused, as though she was struggling to come up with something to threaten him with, "I'll hit you with my frying pan again!"

Jack squinted, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. The lone window in the tower had been shut, and a skylight in the roof was propped open just enough to add a bit of dramatic lighting.

"Okay, look," Jack said, subtly trying to twist his way out of the thick bands of hair wrapping around him, "whoever you are, can we just have a civilized conversation?"

Something in the shadows moved, and after a moment, a girl tentatively stepped into the light, holding a frying pan in a very threatening manner. Jack felt his eyes go wide.

She was beautiful.

"So, ruffian," she said, swinging the frying pan so it rested only centimeters from his nose, "why have you come here?"

"Ruffian?" Jack said. "How many ruffians have you met, kid?"

The girl drew back her frying pan ever so slightly, although she tried to maintain a tough look on her face. "Plenty, thank you," she insisted.

Jack opened his mouth to retaliate with an equally snarky response when suddenly he realized something that should have been on the very forefront of his mind the moment he met the girl's eyes.

She could see him.

"Do... do you know who I am?" The girl paused, unsure how to answer.

"Should I?" she finally asked, still holding the frying pan in a very threatening manner.

"Well, you can see me, so..."

"Wait..." the girl said, her eyes getting comically wide. The frying pan fell to the floor as she ran to a bookshelf and pulled one of three books from its spot. The spine was well worn and she thumbed through the pages with a familiarity only few books are privileged to receive. When she found the page she was looking for, she scanned the words quickly, mouthing some of them in a way that implied she didn't know she was doing it. Confused, Jack watched her eyes flit back and forth across the page. She stopped and looked up at him, then turned her gaze back to the next page in the book.

"Is this," she said hesitantly, turning the book to reveal the artwork concealed within, "you?"

Jack craned his neck to get a closer look at the picture, then read the fine print beneath it.

The Spirit of Winter, Jack Frost. He is rumored to be the cause of many storms and blizzards, and heralds winds that bring winter with them. Legends surrounding Jack Frost do not all agree on his age or appearance, but throughout history he has been known as a mischievous Spirit.

Although the illustration was quite different than he actually looked, the hair matched, as did the description. Rapunzel was trying to hide it, but her eyes betrayed her fear.

"I think you already know the answer to that, Blondie," Jack said softly.