Once upon a time...
Once upon a time there were two twins, Shaya and Gregory. Their father, King Roland, died two weeks before their birth during a battle against King Xavier. Their mother, Queen Farrah, died giving birth to them. They owned the reign, but the Regent reigned instead of them, because they were only little children.
Shaya wasn't exactly the perfect princess: she often played with her brother with wooden swords, rode ponies, played games with the servitude pretending to be a knight fighting against the Wicked Witch. Sometimes, she was the witch and Gregory was the brave knight. But Gregory never wanted to play the evil wizard. He was a good kid, most of the time playing with puppies, reading books the rest of it. He loved his sister, more than his affectionate hugs could express. He took care of her. He was the man of the castle, the future king, when he would reach the proper age. He had to be a good boy. Now he was just five, but he would soon have to become a real man. He knew it. That was what their tutor, the Regent, had told him. He was an adult, he had to be right. Like when he said to him that his sister shouldn't behave that way: she was a princess, she had to be regal, elegant, mannered. She shouldn't go around with that "ridiculous wooden sword" secured to her side by an old rope, she shouldn't waste her time riding that "useless little horse", or climbing the old oak, or chasing lizards in the Royal Gardens. "Convince her that she is a female, Prince Gregory. I'm begging you. She doesn't listen to me!", he said. And Gregory tried.
He tried many times. But every time Shaya smiled at him and invited him to play, holding her
"ridiculous wooden sword" just like a real knight. She challenged him with her usual, screamed: "En garde!", and he could do nothing but take his own sword and cross it with hers. None of them never won. None of them would have never let the other lose.
It was on their sixth birthday that it happened. Shaya was in her bedroom trying to undo the knots of her dress' laces, that was too tight even for breathing. But they were on her back, and she couldn't reach them. If she had called a servant, she would have never helped her, saying that she was a princess and that that dress was beautiful and she was lucky and bla bla bla. Let alone the Regent. That man, she hated him, since the very first time she had met him. He was evil, she knew it. He had never done anything wrong, that was true, but that look in his eyes, the way he squeezed his hands looking at the empty throne, the way he eyed her, so irately... he was evil. But none had ever believed her, neither her brother. He just couldn't see it, like when he didn't see her sword and she jabbed him, every time that he opened his guard to block her when she feinted, well knowing what he would have done. He was predictable. And ingenuous. And the Regent knew it. And he knew that she knew. For this he eyed her that way, and she did the same. But now he had crossed the line. As birthday gift, he had given her that stupid pink dress, and to her brother a real sword, that he could use when he grew up. She was happy for him, but angry with the tutor. He knew that a sword was the thing she most wanted! He had been so mean! So now she needed to take off that horrible pink dress and wear her boyish clothes, take her sword and hit hard something. But she just couldn't undo those knots. She needed help. Because of this she went to her brother's chamber. And she saw him.
The Regent was holding a blade in his right hand. But it wasn't his sword. It was her brother's sword, all gold and steel and rubies. A king's sword. And that weasel was holding it. And it was blooded, on the edge. Whose was that blood? And why was he watching her that way? He looked crazy, wide eyes, white face, trembling hands. And then he was on her, his lurid hand on her mouth, his knee on her chest to hold her still on the ground. The sword was barely touching her throat.
" Shush, stay silent, Princess. I have to tell you a story..." he murmured, crazy face, sweated. But he wasn't wounded. Whose was that blood? Shaya tried to move, but the man was too heavy on her, she could barely breath. He laughed insanely, rolling his enormous eyes. " Once upon a time, there was a little, mad, envy princess, who killed her brother with the sword she desired so much..."
Shaya couldn't believe her ears. She just couldn't accept those words. Killed? Her brother was surely downstairs, in the library, picking some sentences to quote for tonight's speech..." So she was executed, and the broken, pained Regent had to take the throne..." he laughed again, eyes wide open, like hers. She didn't believe him. Everything he said was senseless. He was just gone mad.
But that blood...
He punched her in the face. She felt the taste of blood in her mouth. Her cheek hurt like never in her life and, when she opened her eyes, she saw him. Gregory was laying on the floor, cornered by blood, a hand stretched towards the door. Towards her. Her sight trembled, then fogged, and tears slid down her cheeks on the cold floor. Someone screamed, someone came, heavy, metallic steps. Someone took the sword she was holding. But, wait, she wasn't holding anything... Strong hand raised her from the ground, and then was only chaos, they moving, she screaming.
The cell was cold, wet, uncomfortable. She didn't know that they had such prisons and, overall, so many prisoners. He must have given the orders. But now the prisoners were blaming her. Hate, sympathy, rage. She didn't know what was the predominant feeling in their eyes. But one thing she knew: she would not die. They so had told her a hour before. A week in that cell, and then the Council had spoken: life imprisonment.
Another thing she knew was that she would avenge. She had to avenge her brother's death. And herself. She would kill him. She swore it on her own blood.
She didn't see the road trip. Her eyes were covered by a silk bend. Ten soldiers had brought her there, and now all of them were looking at the impossibly high tower that would have been her prison for the rest of her life. This was saying the weasel. She barely listened to him.
"...you'll live up there forever. A spell will make appear food on your room. Another spell will hold you from throwing yourself over the window. You'll live and die there, alone. This is your fate. " he smirked, eying her with hate.
" Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, softly but with burning eyes. She was dying inside. Or maybe se had died a few weeks ago. He stayed silent and sneered again. Two soldiers pushed her through the door. As she turned to look at them the bricks trembled, and then there was just a wall in front of her. No door. No way out. She was on a stair, and she suddenly realized that it was moving. The bricks were multiplying, and she was pushed up, and upper, until she was catapulted into a circular room, with only one window. She stood up and looked around her. The room was big and almost empty. Black curtains at the window, a stair to a shelf full of books, a bed beside it with a little table on its side, candles on it. A besom against a wall, the imitation of a bathroom on the other side. Shaya swallowed. She had never felt so alone. And afraid.
A brief mocking laughter came from the window. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she saw the Regent literally levitate out of it.
" Hope you like it, Princess." he said, marking the last word with a mean smirk. And then he disappeared, so quick that Shaya thought she had just imagined him. But she knew she didn't. She ran at the window, leaning out of it, but she could only stick out her head. Something strong and invisible held the rest of her body. She gazed down and she saw him, behind the squad, grinning at her. She hated him with all herself.
15 years later
The beanpole hit the leg of the table so violently that it broke it. Shaya moved her wrist and hit it two times again before that it touched the ground, then moved her hand again and stopped the falling of the table. Another slight movement, and the table was upside down. She jumped upon it and began fighting against the curtain, draped in a person shape around a broken chair and many pieces of the bed. She ripped off an arm and its head. Sweated and satisfied, she let herself fall on the ground, letting go her "sword". Six training hours per day, three in the morning, three in the evening. Wash, then two hours reading, one writing, eat, draw for one hour, ten minutes cleaning, one hour combing, two hours reading again. Sleep, food, training, sleep again for the night. And fifteen years went by. Her mind still awake. Her goal still there.
She washed quickly, then took the hairbrush and began with the rite. She unleashed her tressed, blonde, slick hair and began brushing it. Seventy feet of hair. Almost to the ground, from up there. Almost. But she needed something more, another way down. The window was out of her rage, and the wall couldn't be broken down with a beanpole. She needed iron. She needed a hammer. A big one. Or magic. She had tried. She had summoned him, but he didn't come. Perhaps, not even the Dark One could enter those walls. She had read about him in one of her books, so she knew who he was, she knew he could help her. But he didn't come. Never. And, after the thirtieth trial, she had stopped trying. But that had happened seven years before. It was about time to try again.
" Rumplestiltskin, I summon thee. "
Silence for minutes. Nothing happened, again. She was condemning her foolishness when a thin, tinkling laughter came from behind her. She turned and he kneeled briefly before her, his glittering hand dancing in the air.
" Glad to meet you, dearie." he said with a smirk. Shaya swallowed. He was creepy. His voice...
" I've called you many times before..."
" I know, dearie. I do apologize for my absence. I was busy. " He smirked again and then laughed with thin voice. " But now, Princess, I'm here for you."
Shaya widened her eyes. " Do you know who I am?"
He laughed again, waving his hands in the air. " Of course! Everyone knows who Rapunzel is! " " R-Rapunzel?"
" Yes dearie! You! The peasants call you Rapunzel, because under this tower grow tons of rampions! " another of his creepy laughter." Parents use your story as a threat: if you don't eat all the soup, you'll go mad like Rapunzel and you'll be locked in a tower!" he said, his voice growing in the end, almost a scream. Rumplestiltskin laughed, Shaya shivered. They thought she was crazy, that she really killed Gregory, and they also forgot her name. Her hate for the Regent burnt deep into her chest.
She studied Rumplestiltskin's face, his inhuman eyes, that were studying her in turn. " I suppose you didn't summon me just to have a little talk with me, dearie..." he suddenly murmured with narrowed, greedy eyes.
Shaya, Rapunzel, found her demeanor: she rose her chest and her chin, and eyed him coldly. "
Indeed. I need to get out of here. Alive. " seemed necessary to add.
He smirked. " Of course. But I need something in return. "
Shaya nodded once. " What?"
His smile widened. " You."
" What do you mean?" she suspiciously asked. He laughed.
" Not what you're thinking dearie, don't worry! I mean, you're a beautiful young woman, but I'm not interested, no offense. "
She snorted, relieved. " None taken."
They smiled at each other. She wasn't afraid anymore. " I meant, seen that you obviously have nothing to offer to me, that I will have your services when I'll need. You look to be quite skilled in fighting..."
She tilted her head to one side. " Probably. I've never really fought. " she explained, pointing around the room with her hand and raising her shoulders. He laughed.
" I see. But you will, dearie. You will. " He approached her then, tilting his head. " But I shall need you in a far future. I'm so offering you not only freedom, but eternal life." he whispered with a grin showing his rotten teeth.
Shaya goggled in total astonishment: she couldn't believe what was happening. Was he really offering her eternal life?
" So..." he plowed on "...your future obedience in whatever I'll ask you to do for your freedom. " The Dark One rose one hand and a long paper appeared. He handed her a black pen. " Do we have a deal?"
Shaya grabbed the pen and signed.
50 years later
The warrior stabbed the last enemy and kicked his body off of her sword. They won. Money assured. She smiled fiercely to her comrades, and they returned her smile, but with that hint of fear that never left their eyes when they looked at her. She was used to it. Actually it shouldn't be easy for such rude badasses to know that she could kill them all, sweating just a little. What they didn't know was that it wasn't their fault: she simply had too experience to be defeated by the same, old fencing techniques. And too much rage.
Rapunzel ripped a slice of the dead man's under-armor shirt and began wiping the blood away from her sword. An unforgotten sharp laugh blocked her. She looked up and smiled at him.
" Glad to see you, Rumplestiltskin. I was wondering whenever you would have come to me. "
He smiled widely, tilting his head " You're the only one not treating me like a monster, dearie."
She smirked while cleaning the sword. " I met a monster once. You're not."
Silence fell for a while over the quiet battlefield. She broke it. " So, Dark One, what can I do for you?" the warrior asked, casing the blade.
He laughed, pleased. " Just one simple thing, dearie. Tomorrow a Queen of the Enchanted Forest will please the people with her presence. She wants to meet her people, and the King agrees. They will, and the little Princess will be with them. She's called Snow White. Heard about her?" " Read, mostly. I've heard only about her mother's recent death. And I know that the King remarried. That's all. "
" You don't know who the Queen is, do you? "
Rapunzel narrowed her eyes, a little confused. " Right. Who is she?"
The Dark One smirked. " You'll know."
She nodded. " Fine, but how could I arrive in King Leopold's Kingdom in one night? We're miles and miles away from it!"
He loudly laughed. " Oh, you're underestimating me, dearie!"
Rapunzel smiled, feeling stupid. " Ah, right. Sorry." she muttered.
He waved his hand. " Don't you worry, little Princess."
He smiled at her irritation. He knew that she hated that title. Rumplestiltskin offered her his right hand. " Ready, dearie?"
The warrior loudly sighed. Goodbye money.
She took his hand and they disappeared in the mist.
The crowd was infinite. Mostly happy peasants, celebrating the visit of the Royals. And many others were angry, hungry, embittered.
The royal family was on an open carriage, pulled by four majestic black horses. The King was dressed in black. He was still mourning his dead wife, it seemed. The Queen was a young, beautiful woman with a sad look on her face, although she was desperately trying to disguise it with a little smile towards the crowd. Perhaps they wouldn't notice it. The King surely didn't matter, all concerned in being the authoritative and powerful figure he had to be. The little Princess, a child with long, gorgeous black hair and a wide smile on her face while she spread greetings to the crowd, neither. Rapunzel's gaze fell again on the young Queen. She was distant, but she could see her clearly. Her dark eyes, emphasized by the black and red vest and the dark make-up, were full of something that she could only interpret as pain. Shaya suddenly felt something rise up inside her chest: she felt sympathy for that woman. She could imagine her life, she knew how that stuff worked: combined marriage with an old, sad man, too concerned to think of his dead wife to ever notice that his actual wife was just an unhappy girl, probably in love with someone else. She imagined her sadness, felt her pain, her desperation. She look deeply in those dark eyes, and drown in them. Something crunched painfully inside her heart.
Rumplestiltskin watched smiling his two creatures. Now they were far from one another, a thousand people between them, but soon they would be close. He saw it clearly in the warrior's eyes. With a tinkling laughter he disappeared.