Writer's Note: This is just a one-shot that I couldn't get out of my head. If anyone knows of some longer fic that incorporates these LOTR and Rapunzel/Tangled, let me know. I'd love to read it!
Disclaimer: I make no money from this work. Anything recognizable from The Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R Tolkien and affiliates. I also don't own Disney's Tangled.
History
Something called to her. She could hear it in the pounding of her heart, in the whispers her hair made as it brushed the forest floor.
Things had been quite for so very long, she felt she had been asleep until this moment.
The forest was in an uproar. The faint cries of men and beasts filled the air.
Her bare feet moved over the forest floor, her weight so slight, they made not a sound.
When had she last moved like this? Memories of anything beyond the last few moments where like a half remembered dream.
She arrived at the scene of a man, rough in appearance but regal in bearing kneeling over a fallen comrade. An elf, fair as the rest of his people, stood stoic nearby. A dwarf leaned against a mighty axe, his face strained with grief.
The elf was first to become aware of her presence. He drew his bow. Just as quickly his eyes widened and his arms relaxed.
"What is a lass doing here?" cried the dwarf in shock.
The regal man turned from his comrade. His face registered surprise.
"Aragorn?" The dying man could not see what had captured the man's attention. He nearly flinched when the young woman kneeled opposite him.
She turned her gaze from the man called Aragorn to the blond warrior. He looked startled by her but pain contorted his face with each ragged breath. Her heart clenched and an overwhelming urge to do...something, took hold of her.
Gathering her hair into her lap, she began to lay it over him. It's length caused wonderment to fall over the company. Careful to cover him, shoulders to hips she rested her hand gently against his face and began to sing.
"Flower gleam and glow. Let your power shine. Make the clock reverse. Bring back what once was mine..."
Like a sunrise, from the roots of her hair came a shining light. It cast a golden glow as it trickled down to embrace the man.
"Heal what has been hurt. Change the fate's design. Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine..."
Her voice carried and filled the clearing. The song was haunting, beautiful. The power behind each word was palpable. It felt like sunshine, warm and full of life.
"Bring back what once was mine." Her voice tapered off and the blinding glow faded to a soft shine.
The blonde warrior took a powerful breath. His chest rose naturally and his eyes were clear. His hand closed over hers.
"My lady, thank you," murmured Aragorn. His eyes were fixed on her, filled with awe.
Her lips curved softly into a smile.
"Take better care. I can not be everywhere always."
His eyebrows rose. She turned her gaze to the man who held her hand captive.
"What are you?" he asked in wonder and a little fear.
Her head fell back in laughter. Eyes the color of the sky seemed to swallow him whole. She withdrew her hand and began to gather her golden hair.
"My name is Rapunzel."
She stood and dropped a short curtsy, her violet gown spread fanlike.
"Rapunzel?" the dwarf was wide eyed and gapping.
"Goodbye."
She gazed once more at the one whose death knell had called to her, turned and began to walk away.
"Wait!" cried Boromir.
But it was as though she was deaf to his cry. The edges of her form wavered and her already pale skin became translucent. Her hair caught the sun and sparkled before she disappeared altogether.
A few minutes passed before Legolas cleared his thoughts enough to ask after the welfare of the hobbits. Boromir, sick with guilt, confessed what had happened. With hast, Aragorn led them after their kidnapped friends.
That evening as they settled down to rest a short while, Aragorn turned to Gimli and asked him about the young woman.
"You know of her? Who is she? What is she?"
All eyes of the company trained on the dwarf as he began his tale.
"It was told to me as a lad. The story of Rapunzel, a girl possessing magical hair. They say she was born a daughter of man, to royalty. The queen, consumed a tea brewed from a magical healing flower and that power fell to the babe. The babe was taken when she was still young by a dark witch who envied her power. The witch built a tower, higher than the trees. There was no door and only one window from which to come and go. The maid's hair contained her power and grew as she grew. The witch used Rapunzel's hair to maintain her youth and to come and go from the tower as she pleased. The story goes that Rapunzel was kept in the tower all her life. Many came to free her but all failed. There was one lad who the maid loved and when the witch cursed him and sent him away the maid cast her out. With no way into the tower, the witch withered away and died. But the maid can not pass on, her power will not allow her to age or die. The tower is long since fallen into ruin, but Rapunzel lives on with her magic. A child's tale."
Legolas gazed thoughtfully at the sky before turning to his fellows.
"There is a similar tale told to elves. But she is called Petrosinella. She was born to a poor family and when her mother fell ill before her birth, her father made a deal with the witch to save his wife. The witch took the child after her birth and kept her in a tower. Many heard the tale of her entrapment and one day a son of man ventured to save her. They say he was a great champion of men and fought valiantly but was thrown from the tower and died. Her grief was so that she no longer wished to live and to end her life, cut her hair so that she could die a mortal death. But the power did not lie in her hair, it lay in her heart. Her hair grew back and she remained in the tower, trapped by her own gift."
Aragorn set aside the oil cloth he'd been using on his sword, a question furrowing his brow.
"But how was she aware of Boromir's fate? What drew her to us and where did she go?"
Silence settled over the group. No one knew quite how to explain what had occurred.
Boromir who sat slightly apart, sighed loudly. His fingers brushed his cheek, remembering the feel of her palm. His thoughts no longer consumed by the ring but by a maid with deep blue eyes and golden hair. Her song still in his ears.
Fin.