Disclaimer: Disney stills owns everything and I nothing.
When Rapunzel went back to the Tower, she had told her parents that she wanted to retrieve some paints that had been left behind. They had been bewildered by this, saying that they could buy her all the paint she wanted, surely of a much better quality than what she was used to. But she had insisted, saying that some of the colors were hard to come by, so they reluctantly let her go.
Eugene had wanted to accompany her, professing that he felt uneasy about her going back to that place alone. "Color me crazy, blondie," he had said, his old name for her still sticking despite the fact that she was now a brunette, "but I just don't think it's safe." She had kissed his cheek, affectionately confirming his insanity and arguing that she'd be fine. There was nothing there that could hurt her, she said. Not anymore.
Rapunzel hadn't been honest, however; not with Eugene and not with her parents. Getting the paints wasn't her real purpose in returning and she knew that the memories she'd encounter would be enough to hurt her. That didn't stop her from riding the horse into the familiar glade, though, and dismounting without hesitation. She had some things to take care of, and she knew she could never be at ease in her new life unless she had.
The first order of business was the midnight cloak and crimson gown lying at the foot of the Tower, beneath the sole window. That was all that was left of Gothel, the woman who Rapunzel would always see as having two sides. There was the selfish hag who had kidnapped her as an infant, who had kept her in the dark about her true identity for eighteen years. That was the side that made Rapunzel sick to her stomach. But then there was the tender mother who had cared for her, who had made her the center of her world and who in return had been the center of hers. It was for that side that she silently shed a tear, lifting the garments and pressing them to her cheek, inhaling what was left of the scent of Gothel's perfume.
Gathering them into her arms, Rapunzel rose to her feet and moved to ascend the staircase that lead to the top of the Tower. There she walked right past the box of paints sitting abandoned in the corner and into the nook that had been Gothel's bedroom. At the foot of the bed stood a cedar chest, which smelled like pine when she opened it from the needles that it had been lined with in order to keep the contents smelling fresh. In there were the rest of Gothel's clothes, among them being the kid-skin gloves that Rapunzel remembered being soft to the touch and the pale blue nightgown that she had always thought made Gothel look like a queen right out of her storybooks.
The sight of the nightgown reminded Rapunzel what her other purpose in coming here had been, and she placed the cloak and dress inside the chest, closing it back up. From there it was into her old room, where she pulled a smaller chest out from underneath her bed. The box had been her secret, the place where she kept everything that truly mattered to her locked safely away. Most were childhood items that she had outgrown, but there was still one thing inside that interested her, and she lifted the lid to retrieve it.
The object in question was a portrait Rapunzel had painted long ago before she had made the very walls of the Tower her canvas. It was of Gothel, wearing the blue nightgown, sound asleep in her bed as the moonlight shone down on her from the skylights she had forgotten to close. She had never known Rapunzel had this picture, which she never would've allowed to have been painted. The only times she had ever agreed to pose was right after she had been rejuvenated and when she could situate herself in a way that she thought would flatter her the most.
Rapunzel had never liked those portraits, thinking that Gothel always looked too poised, too unnatural. She simply tried too hard and Rapunzel could never understand why she felt the need to when she was already so beautiful. One night when she couldn't sleep, however, and had crept into the kitchen for a glass of water, her artist's eye had been caught by the way the moonlight played across Gothel's pale features. She looked so serene, so naturally perfect, that Rapunzel hadn't been able to resist grabbing paper and charcoal and making a quick sketch. It wasn't until the following afternoon when Gothel had gone out that she had been able to turn it into a painting, but when it was done it had become her most treasured work of art.
Picking up the picture and looking at it again for the first time in a long while, Rapunzel felt another tear trail down her face and sadness tugging at her heart. This was the woman that she missed, the mother that she had loved. That cold-hearted shrew she had struggled against at the end, that had been someone different, someone driven to commit insane acts by desperation and fear. Rapunzel would forever resent that woman for nearly taking Eugene away from her, but, when it came down to it, she'd always love her mother.
After another moment, she carefully folded the portrait and tucked it into the bag she had brought with her, rising to her feet and leaving the room. It was only as an afterthought that she actually remembered to grab the box of paints she had supposedly gone back for. Upon exiting the Tower, she paused to glance back up at it, taking in the sight for what she knew would be the very last time. Whispered words reached her ear as if carried by the wind, I love you very much, dear, and Rapunzel felt tears well up in her eyes again. Carefully brushing them away, she only murmured, "I love you most," before mounting her horse and taking off for her new home.