Author's Note:
This was inspired by the 1973 film Paper Moon.
A huge thanks to LinkandZeldaForever0329 for helping me smooth out my writing.
Hope you like it!
Prologue:
"Take her away."
"No, listen, this was all a mistake!"
"Yeah, we've never heard that one before," said the Captain as a group of guards hauled off an aging woman with dark, curly hair.
"I thought for sure it was Rider," said one of the soldiers apologetically.
"Well, the only one that got a good look at her was Paul and he's dead now from Hay Fever. We've got the crown back, that's all that matters."
"It was Flynn Rider!" called Gothel,her voice taking on a more urgent tone as time wore on.
"Then why were you in possession of it?" asked the Captain, turning to look at her.
She looked at the guard frantically, then at her hands gripping the bars of the cell they placed her in. Her eyes briefly studied the growing lines on her them, how bony they looked. They were getting worse each day, and she was running out of time. "He... He broke into my house and hid it... under my stairs!" The Captain quirked an eyebrow, remaining unconvinced. "So you were framed?" he asked unenthusiastically. "Yes!" she insisted, but then realized he was being sarcastic and her hopeful expression faded.
The Captain turned to see the rest of the guards giving him questioning looks. "Come on, he broke into her house and hid it? Let's go."
"Did you notice how her hair looked gray? It didn't seem like that when we were bringing her in."
"It was probably just the light."
She desperately looked around the room, trying to find anything she could use to escape, but while she searched she realized that escape would most likely be useless. What would she do once she was out of this cell? Find Rapunzel? In this state? The realization that she would most likely die here was beginning to set in, and she slumped down on the bench attached to the wall.
There was no way of telling how much time had passed. She didn't pay any attention to how often they brought the others food. Has it been days? Hours? The only way she could tell was by looking at her hands and counting how many more wrinkles had appeared. She was thankful that there was no way of looking at her face in the dungeon; seeing her hands were enough. Her woeful thoughts eventually turned to outrage the longer she brooded over the subject.
Her anger continued to heat up inside of her until she reached her boiling point. Maybe the sudden anger and desperation was coming from the fact that she knew she barely had any time left; she was wasting away in front of her very eyes and it was her fault. No, it's Rapunzel's fault! That brat knows I need her hair, she told herself, or maybe she was saying it out loud. She couldn't be sure. Was she shaking? It felt as though the anger she felt was taking hold of her and she gave into it as it, letting it pull her away.
She could feel her fury increase until it felt as though it would consume her and, in a fit of rage, she pounded her fists on the bench. Her hands shattered, disintegrating into the air like dust as the rest of her followed and she was reduced to nothing more than her cloak.
"Hey, where did she go? Captain! She's gone!"