"Jack," Rapunzel whispered. She was curled up in a ball on her bed, searching the dim room for him. He hadn't appeared just yet, though, she could feel his presence. It was ice climbing the back of your spine and the thrill of winter tingling your senses. Jack Frost was the embodiment of childhood memories from snow days, hot chocolate by the fire, and building snowmen together as a family. She shuddered from the chill.

"Jack, I know you're here. Where are you?"

She felt the temperature of the room physically drop even further. Snowflakes as delicate as lace on a wedding veil drifted to the ground beside her bed as two pale, bare feet touched the stone floor beside the bottom of a wooden staff.

The young Guardian gave her an impish grin, opening his arms wide. "Right here," he said, chuckling. He loved being sneaky. Too bad Rapunzel had gotten used to sensing his presence. It wasn't as fun anymore.

"Jack!" she jumped up, practically tackling him with a bear hug, as snowflakes fell into her hair and on her dress. It was more like a bear cub hug, being how tiny she was compared to him. She pressed her face into his chest, her breathing heavy and wet. "Oh, Jack," she murmured desperately. His heart beat picked up when she said his name like that. Her arms tightened around his thin frame. He hesitantly returned the embrace, resting his cheek on the top of her golden head. She was so much shorter than him.

"I'm scared," she muttered against his chest.

He held her tighter. She smelled wonderful-like flowers, paint, and fresh laundry all mixed into one small person. He wanted to bottle up that smell and keep it. So that when he had to leave her for real, he could always remember exactly how she smelled.

"I'm scared for Eugene," she finished.

He felt his grip loosen slightly. Of course. Flynn Rider, or Eugene Fitzherbert, had stolen Rapunzel's heart in just two days. Whereas, Jack had been around the lost princess for years and she had never looked at him the way she looked at Eugene. Deep in his soul, he knew she never would. He couldn't give her all the things she wanted. He didn't age, so he couldn't grow old with her. Even thinking about her being old was hard-she was so full of life, love, and spirit. He couldn't give her children-he was sixteen, and though he could give her the intimacies shared between husband and wife (which made him blush, just thinking about it), but not children. Guardians didn't have descendants because they lived forever. He couldn't make her Queen of Winter.

He could only love her from afar.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said softly, soothingly. He lifted her chin with the fingertips of his free hand. A tear slid down her beautiful cheekbone, hitting his finger. Her emerald eyes were large, watery, and ready to overflow. He smiled gently. "'Punz, everything will be alright. Eugene won't die, okay? He'll find some way out of there and back to you. He won't leave you." Jack sighed, because what he was about to say was going to break his inhuman heart. "He loves you, Rapunzel." He laughed at her wonderstruck expression. It was obvious she loved Eugene, too. Wiping a stray tear from her face, he said longingly, "How can he not?"

She laughed forlornly through her falling tears. Tackling him again in yet another hug, he stumbled and they fell on her massive, extremely pink, fluffy bed. He oomphed, but didn't protest, because she was full-out sobbing now. He soothed her by holding her closer, tempted to kiss her forehead. He settled for brushing the hair out of her eyes. That darned, 70 foot long hair was always in the way.

"I'm not just scared about that," she sobbed into his sweatshirt front, wringing the blue fabric in her tiny hands. She was so delicate and fragile, and yet she was very strong when she wanted to be. Glancing up at him, she said, "Jack, I'm the lost princess. I realized it before I called you. My whole life has been a lie. My mother isn't my mother but my kidnapper, my prison guard. I've been stuck in this tower all this time because of her, when my parents were right over that bridge, waiting for me, loving me all this time . . . and Eugene-"

"Shhh," Jack hushed her. He guided her head back down to his chest. He selfishly wanted this last few minutes alone with her before he went off to help her Prince Charming. He wanted Eugene, Gothel, and everyone else out of sight and mind for just a second. He wanted to only focus on her: her warmth, her soft hair and skin, her flushed cheeks, her innocence.

He hated that these things of her past had to be kept from her. If he had intervened, she would have never met Eugene (which North hadn't told him about Eugene) and never would have eventually become the reigning Queen of Corona years later. Rapunzel was to become the best and most compassionate ruler Corona would ever know.

"I know," he whispered. He had known from the day he had first saw her, gazing out her window at the freshly falling snow with longing. He had made friends with her, and they'd had a snowball fight inside her tower.

He gathered her closer, feeling her wet cheek hit his neck as his whole body became warmer than it should. She continued to grip his sweatshirt tightly in her fists. Her cries became softer and softer as time moved achingly on. Soon, she took a shuddering breath and nuzzled her nose against his neck. If he wasn't the King of Cold, he would have sworn a blush stole across his whole being.

"Thanks for being here," Rapunzel said as she drifted off into a fitful sleep. "Through everything."

He debated for a long time on saying the three words that had haunted him since she was sixteen and had painted that lifelike mural of their snowball fight. He glanced down at the princess to find her sleeping. He smiled to himself, have her forehead a lingering kiss, and pressed her body as tightly against his as humanely possible. He wished for a moment that he could stay with her forever, hold her forever, marry her and give her children, shower her in love, and show her a world unknown to her eyes.

Sighing again, he rested his cheek against the top of her head once more.

"I love you," he whispered just as she stirred in her sleep, smiling from a dream. For centuries afterwards, Jack liked to tell himself that she had heard the endearment, even in her rest, and that for a split second, she loved him back.