Rapunzel didn't even have time to scream. One moment, she was in Evanora Hailwell's tree home, and the next she was inside an enormous room with high ceiling and a beautiful view of what looked to be Corona. Apart from a leather-bound book and a few candles strewn over the surfaces, the room was clean, free of any personal gear.
"Argh!" Mother Gothel swiped at her ear, rubbing it free of chameleon saliva. She felt Pascal carefully creep within the curtain of her hair-and rightly so, as she saw Mother eyeing the very spot he'd just been in.
Nobody stopped Rapunzel as she stumbled back, moving until her fingers grazed the cool, stone wall of the room's corner. There was a window just to her left, but when she peeked at it with the corner of her eye, it seemed, to her utter dismay, like quite a far stretch down. The only other exit was a door along the right wall, right being where Mother stood.
She was trapped. Oh, so very trapped.
A smile slid over Kozmotis's lips as he lifted a lanky hand to motion at the open window. "You're free to attempt," he drawled. "But you don't have to be a prisoner here, Rapunzel. We're on the same side." There was a slight strain to his cheeks, wrecking his attempts for a comforting grin.
Rapunzel felt herself hiss, though her mind was swimming as she tried-and failed-to stop thinking of the window and what it entailed. What would her attempts at fumbling down the palace wall look like? Horrible. Disastrous. Fatal.
As if she would believe, even for a second, that they would let her go in the first place.
Her mind quickly wandered back to Jack, a grounding rock in her nauseating imagination. Was he okay? Were Kozmotis's fearlings and nightmares attacking him as she should safe in this room? And what about Flynn? Hurt filled her at the thought of him. She'd considered him her friend, yet he'd been on the other side all along. She should have been more cautious. She should have listened to Jack, but what Evanora had begun to confess... She needed to know more of it. And now her only source of truth was gone, and it was all her fault.
No.
It was all Mother's fault. Mother, who could very clearly see the dark man, too. Mother, who had obviously been able to see Jack when he'd appeared at her tower. Mother, who had lied about the plague, and so much more. Angry tears made her throat grow heavy, but Rapunzel did the best she could to hold them back. How much of her life had been a lie?
She flinched when Mother finished her slow approach, enough to dodge her lifting hand. Mother scowled, reaching again until her red-painted nail wove through the tangles of Rapunzel's hair. All the way down to her neatly cut ends. "When did this happen?"
Disgust filled Rapunzel. This woman who had raised her, whom she'd spent her entire existence looking up to, had just driven a dagger through someone's heart, and here she was now inquiring about Rapunzel's hair. Mother had told her she'd killed the infected before, but Evanora Hailwell had been healthy, and untouched my Mother's fantasied plague. She'd been a living being, with real thoughts, and real love. Did Mother feel any remorse for her death at all?
"Rapunzel," Mother warned, "you know how well I enjoy repeating myself."
Rapunzel felt herself shiver as she shifted back into the timid roots she knew far too well. But then she caught sight of a fine line creasing the edge of Mother's lip and a new realization dawned on her. How many times had she and the dark man attempted to convince her to their individual sides? They could have taken her unwillingly at any moment, yet they'd never once tried until now.
They needed her, she realized. They needed her for the powers she possessed. The powers they could not force her use in alliance with them.
Rapunzel looked up into Mother's large, grey eyes. She would not bring the Rettersonne's into this again. "I cut it." The words came out hard, stronger than Rapunzel felt in her bones. She did not look away, even as Mother Gothel's fingers clenched in her hair.
"Without even knowing what would become of your powers?"
Rapunzel growled, not feeling the pain growing at her scalp. "I'd rather lose them forever than let a monster like you continue to immortalize yourself."
Rapunzel expected a strike, or something greater. Instead, Mother's features stilled as she let her daughter go. "Tell me, when did I become the bad guy?" She asked. "I've done nothing for nearly two decades but care for you, and yet you treat me as if I'm the devil incarnate. Everything I've done has been to protect you, Flower!"
Though her calm voice eased the adrenaline racing through Rapunzel, a mixture of guilt wound its way deep inside her gut. It was a feeling, she found, that she'd never once felt during any of her conversation with Jack. Had her mother always spoken in such a way?
"We'll be leaving the island soon." The dark man stood in the shadows by the large bed, voice like silk. "You'll come with us. Haven't you always wanted to see the world?"
Yes, Rapunzel thought. But not with you.
"No more isolation or restrictions," he continued. "No more just existing in a world where you don't belong. Where you're a freak, all alone and unloved. Do you really think those little Coronians will see you as an ally once they discover your true powers? Do you think Jack Frost will? You were too naive, too hopeful to see the greed in their eyes before. Their deeply set hate for you."
Rapunzel shook her head, willing the words to bounce away from her fragile heart, but to no avail. The Boogeyman, she struggled to remind herself. His entire purpose was to feed upon living fear. He would not undo the belief in her heart. She would not let him.
The cruel smile would not leave his features. Try me, it said.
Her magic did not answer.
"We leave tomorrow at nightfall," he finished finally, waving to Mother. "Show her to her room, will you?"
Mother hummed, taking Rapunzel by the elbow with a firm hand. The hallway was quiet, which struck Rapunzel immediately as odd. They'd seemed so full of life in her books, with guards and servants and maids fretting around every corner. This one, however, seemed devoid of everything comforting, despite its soft carvings and bright splashes of sunbeam golds.
"Where is everyone?" Rapunzel dared ask once they'd gone far enough from Pitch's room.
Mother smiled, tipping her head down to Rapunzel. "Exactly where they need to be, Flower. Stop frowning, you'll get wrinkles. You're fretting about that friend of yours, aren't you? Well, I've been here far longer than you have, and I can tell you that those so called Guardians aren't as do good, be good as they seem. Not in the ways you think. Not in the ways that we are."
Rapunzel shook her head. "You're working for him. Kozmotis, he wants nothing else but to spread fear, and you're working for him. Did he force you after I left?" Guilt guilt guilt. She'd left him with her mother after Jack struck her unconscious with ice. Pitchiner himself had even admitted to having her in her grasp back at the Rettersonne home, but she'd never imagined...
Mother pulled her around corner, heavy-lidded eyes no longer set on her daughter. "Though it may appear that way, I'm more in control than you might think, Rapunzel. The one person you need to worry about here is yourself, and what's safer for you. I can protect you from the cruelty of the world."
Rapunzel drew back. "The world is only cruel if you refuse to see it any other way, Mother."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Mother pressed a hand to the black-shard stone hanging on her chest. "I forgot Rapunzel knows best. Here we are." A great, beige door stood wide open, revealing the most beautiful bedroom Rapunzel had ever seen. A large bed sat directly before them, and two chairs framed the enormous window to their right. Floral, lilac paintings covered the walls in neat lines, matching-coloured curtains framing those around both the window and bed. An unlit, wood-framed hearth filled the space between the chairs and where they both stood in the entryway. Mother pointed to a door along their far left. "You can freshen yourself up in the bathroom," she said, gazing down at her. "And toss that awfully dull piece of fabric in the trash, will you?"
Rapunzel fiddled self-consciously with the sandstone linen of the dress she'd thought had been lovely in its simple way. Her skin was prickling with a static of nerves. Here she was, freshening up while Gods knew what was happening to Jack, Baby Tooth, and Flynn. I'm sorry, blondie, he had whispered in her ear as he forced her to her mother's side. It had sounded regretful and well-meaning, but could she really believe him after what he'd done? And Jack's power... Her power.
How had they both been unable to summon anything?
Rapunzel quickly shut the bathroom door behind her. "Breathe," she whispered to herself. "Think. Alright..." She fell to her knees before the bathtub, reaching in to plug the drain. She twisted the knob until cool water splashed down inside of it, drowning her thoughts into focus. Rapunzel wrapped her hands around the ledge of the tub, squeezing her eyes shut. The emotion she'd been holding back in Pitch's room came rushing back to her all at once.
"Jack Frost," she prayed, voice buried within the soft rush of water. "Jack, please be okay. Please hear me. You have to. I'm at the palace, and we're planning to leave by tomorrow's nightfall. I'm so sorry. Oh, I should have listened to you... But what Evanora said, do you think...?" She shook her head. There was no time for those questions yet. They would discuss things when they met again-and they would. Rapunzel had to believe it. Guardians were stronger entities than human beings were. Jack could not be extinguished so easily. "Be careful," she finished. "The shadows are watching."
She changed into the nightgown that had been left on the small, cushioned bench by the tub when she finished drying off from her bath. She sat on the bench to brush out her hair, a feat that took no more than but a few minutes to complete. When she sung now, she watched with a sense of confusion as the gleaming tips of her hair grew by millimetres in her hand. Why now? Why are you working now?
She found a tray set at the foot of her bed, bearing a glass of water and two bowls; one of steaming potato noodles, and the other of rote grütze. Rapunzel plucked it from the mattress and headed for one of the chairs, tucking her feet beneath her as she sat. Though a thin, see-through fabric fell over the window, she could still see the moon shining bright in the sky.
Watching, as everything else was.
She picked at her food until she could bear no more of it, then went over to carefully test the lock on the door. When it did not give, she pulled off a layer of blanket from the bed and returned to her chair, staring up at the moon until her eyes could no longer stand to remain open.
.·:* *:·.
Niiightlight,
briiight liiight.
Sweet dreams I bestooow.
Sleeep tiiight,
aaall night.
Forever I will glooow.
Rapunzel awoke in the dead of night to echoes of a song ringing in her head. She lay still on the no-longer-comfortable chair, spine and legs aching from their odd bend. The see-through fabric was pulled back, the open window sending a warm breeze down to kiss her cheeks as there, on the sill, crouched-
"Jack?" Rapunzel shot up in her seat, sending the blanket down to the floor. But as her eyes cleared from the fog of sleep, she soon found that her initial assumption had been quite wrong, to her absolute dismay. Though he looked remarkably similar, this boy was not Jack Frost.
She shot to her feet, heart racing as she reached for the satchel that was no longer at her hip. She settled with the dark oil lamp on the small table before her instead.
"Who are you?" She called, not bothering to keep her voice down. But the boy brought a lanky finger to his lips in a show for silence. Right, Rapunzel thought, meeting the pale green eyes staring intently at her. She could no longer see how she'd confused him for Jack upon waking. Though his hair was snow-white, it curled around his ears, growing longer the closer to his face it got. His features were sharp, and he was clad in an intricate, dark armour. A staff much longer than Jack's lay in his palm, tipped with a glimmering pale blade. But what fascinated Rapunzel the most was the boy's skin, cast entirely in a soft glow, like an aura around him.
Child of the Sun, the voice ringing in her head was manly, and definitely not hers. Rapunzel stepped back in alarm. But her eyes were open and focused! She shouldn't be hearing the voices now!
Fear not, the boy at her window tipped his chin. It is only I, Nightlight.
"Night-?" The boy quickly stepped off of the window, finger shooting back up to his lips. He shook his head.
Do not let the fearlings hear my name, the voice that was not hers said. Speak through thought, and I shall hear. The Nightmare King does not know of my frail return.
Rapunzel took a deep breath, lowering the lamp in her hand ever so slightly. Then why are you here? She tested out in her head, convinced she had to still be somewhere off in a dream. Who was this boy? She'd never read of him in her Book of Guardians.
I was born of The Man in the Moon's sorrowful tears, Nightlight explained. And have been his protector and closest friend since. I have come to offer you your freedom.
That seemed a suspicious coincidence to Rapunzel. How so? And how did you know I was here? How do you know who I am?
Nightlight shifted, a strange fascination in his eyes. His shoes were black like the rest of his attire, and pointed up in a neat curl at the toes. It seemed a funny thing to Rapunzel, though he wore them in a way that was oddly fitting. I know much, Child of the Sun. I have found you through The Nightmare King's trail, though we have searched for you a long time. Rapunzel felt hints of a bitter fury ignite through her now. It took a moment for her to realize the feeling was not her own. Through telepathy, Nightlight's emotions seemed to be spread open for her to see. Were hers too?
He was not meant to rise again so quickly. Now I see how that mistake came to be. Witches have been gone for centuries.
"Like-" Rapunzel cleared her throat. Like my mother, you mean? It still felt odd to think of her as a witch. As someone capable of her own crafted powers.
Nightlight shook his head. Not your mother.
Unease filled Rapunzel's stomach.
Time ticks slowly in the confines of nothingness. There's a task I must do, but it is one I find myself too weak still to accomplish successfully. However, I have watched, and you appear to be in the best of positions to retrieve it and come out unharmed.
Suddenly, a burst of deeply tamed love erupted inside of her heart, so strong and passionate it hurt, even through the dullness of their emotional link. She felt Nightlight's presence in her mind retreat a moment, only to slowly return.
There is a special friend of mine, he continued, a guardian like that of your Jack Frost, who can reshape future and stories alike. Though she cannot change meant destinies, she is capable of tweaking the fine lines of fate through the sketchbook The Nightmare King has stolen from her. Without it, she cannot watch time, cannot capture its stories. There came a pause as his mind wandered elsewhere. Emptiness fills you at the loss of Mim's gift.
Rapunzel pursed her lips, recalling the leather-bound book in the bedroom she'd appeared in. She'd barely had time to do more than glance at it then but, as she thought back on it, she had vaguely noticed that the dark man had not roamed very far from it. Could it be what Nightlight was referring to?
Yes. Nightlight answered, though she'd somehow assumed he'd not been listening. In return, I shall aid in telling you what the moon knows of your past. Though I warn storytelling was not my given specialty.
Rapunzel thought for a moment, though she quickly found the proposal was not a difficult decision to make. Alright.
A wave of gratefulness filled her at the answer. Filled with love and fight and thanks. Nightlight turned toward the window. Sing my lullaby when you are ready and I shall undo the lock set upon your door.
"Wait!" Rapunzel said aloud before he could leave. "If I do this, will you do me one other favour?"
Nightlight's nod, mixed with the earnestness he exposed to her heart, was the only answer he offered for the question that required no voice.
.
.
.
If you liked this chapter, don't forget to vote and comment your thoughts! :)
Just like Katherine, Nightlight was not created by meee! But I am crafting him with whatever information the internet deemed worthy to tell. Have a lovely evening. <3
*Edited (February 5th, 2020).