Hi everyone!
I must be nuts to post a new multi-chap fic, not when I'm already juggling Ever After and Cherry Cough Syrup (which is written for Powerpuff Girls, in case you were wondering).
Ah, well. A girl's got to submit to her muse, right? Besides, this idea was too awesome to resist. Plus, I wanna post it before anyone else gets a similar idea. :)
So this first chapter is mainly a filler, but I actually like the way it turned out. Unlike my other stories, however, the action should pick up – STARTING THE NEXT CHAPTER. Or at least, I'll try to make it work out. :D
And by the way – a big THANK YOU to all those who reviewed my first dark fic, Bleed. I mean, seriously, I was really excited to see so many reviews! Squee! I can write dark, creepy stories – who knew, right? :D
Okay… you guys know the drill. Read, review, and tell me how to improve!
(One last thing: I don't own Tangled, BUT I DO OWN A RAPUNZEL DOLL WHO IS SO DARN CUTE WITH HER GORGEOUS EYES. YOU SHOULD BUY ONE, SHE IS SO IRRISISTABLE.)
O*O*O
It began with winds from the north; gusty, battering winds that stirred up the seas so that the crests of the waves were sharp and short and the shorelines streaked with foam. As the wind swept across the ocean, running invisible fingers through the water's surface and creating small currents, the air became deathly still, and everyone from miles around could feel it. The stillness, the absolute lifelessness of the atmosphere lingered long after the winds had passed, and it was as if the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
They say the first victim was a young sailor. It was whispered that he was cursed, that nothing like this had ever been seen before, that maybe it was the work of a sea spirit the boy had disturbed. But most connected the sickness to the strange coming and going of the winds.
In time, others fell ill too. Their symptoms were identical to that of the sailor's, who had not lived to tell his tale. The sickness spread, always slowly, and like a wild beast on the prowl, it struck only when you least expected it. It crawled through the underbrush and floated on thin air, killing as many as ten people a month. After the first year of the illness's first appearance, it had killed over one hundred and twenty men and women, children and adults in the kingdom of Angers alone. Soon after, the disease was dubbed the Dark Plague.
The Dark Plague soon spread to other kingdoms as well. The odd bit was that it only seemed to affect chosen people. A person who had been healthy all his life might suddenly fall prey to the disease's ever-hungry jaws. Yet another person might be the sole survivor in an entire household of victims. Sir Dark Plague is choosy; he only selects a special few and then inflicts them with his symptoms.
First the victim looses all his strength so that he can barely move a finger. Then comes the cough that leads to deathly pale complexion and ashen cheeks. Afterward, there are other symptoms, such as the skin becoming so fragile that it tears easily, difficulty to breathe, and temporary blindness.
For years, there was no known cure for the Dark Plague. All a victim could do was pray. He would be lucky if he survived. He would be just another of the hundreds of lost lives if he didn't.
O*O*O
It happened three months after the return of the Lost Princess – which would be me – to the kingdom of Corona. I guess you could have called it the biggest shock I've ever had in my life, even bigger than the shock I got when I found out who I really was, even bigger than the shock I got when I realized shoes were worse than anything else in the world, and… well, I'm rambling. But yes, I think you get the picture.
This tale is about more than just me and my shock, though. This is the story of a man who fought for life when everyone else had all but given up hope… this is the story of a friend who refused to back down when her companion was in danger… and this is the story of a girl – a girl who is me.
But before I start this story, I should probably tell you a little about myself. My name is Princess Rapunzel, but Rapunzel without the title suits me just fine. Somehow, nobody but my parents and Eugene can understand that – we'll get back to these people in a moment, but keep them in mind, because they play some pretty big parts in this story.
So anyway. I'm Rapunzel, the Lost – and now, found – Princess of Corona. I'm assuming you already know my old story, which involves me, a false mother, a wanted thief, a horse, a frying pan, a chameleon, a gorgeous lantern show, and a lot of hair, correct?
To summarize the whole thing, I, Princess Rapunzel, once had healing powers in my hair that came from a flower, which blossomed from a single drop of sunlight. A woman named Gothel used the flower for centuries to keep her young and beautiful, but when the queen of the land fell sick, the flower was discovered and made into a potion. It healed the queen, who soon after had a lovely baby girl with beautiful golden hair. Gothel was furious that her flower had been stolen, and she retaliated – by stealing the newborn princess.
Devastated, the king and queen released hundreds of lanterns into the sky every July sixteenth, which was their daughter's birthday, in the hopes that one day their lost princess would follow them home. If we were to fast-forward eighteen years, we would see a pleasant young lady with sevety feet of magical hair sitting in her tower when BOOM – a strange thug falls in through her window. I, the young lady, hit the man (Flynn Rider) with a frying pan and effectively knocked him out. To make a long story short, we made a deal: he would take me to see the lanterns, and I would return his satchel, which held a crown that he had just stolen. Later I would find out that it was my own crown he had stolen.
Okay, I know you're getting fidgety. I'll skim through the rest: Flynn took me to see the lanterns, we fell in love, he told me his real name was Eugene. Then things went horribly wrong: I found out I was the Lost Princess, Gothel stabbed Eugene, he cut my magical golden hair, which turned brown and powerless. Gothel began to age rapidly, she fell out the tower's window and turned to dust, Eugene died in my arms. (Gosh, that part was horrible.) Then one of my tears – the last bit of magic inside me – healed him, and brought him back to life. (Yay!) Then I returned home and lived happily ever after, yada-yada-yada.
Now for my new story. Since returning to the palace and being reunited with my real, wonderful parents, I have found that the life of a lost princess is extremely interesting. You are suddenly faced with the challenge of learning to rule some two thousand plus people, and you have to read on topics that are both dull and yet mystifying. You are seemingly the boss of your subjects, but your own council won't listen to you when you try to convince them that the love of your life has given up his former life of crime. You have to wear shoes that pinch your toes and skirts that cover the shoes – but the maids won't listen when you ask why you wear have the dumb shoes if nobody can see them under all those skirts. All at once, you are on top; your people look up to you for answers and comfort and hope. You are suddenly admired; you are sometimes revered and feared, as though you are not human but something higher.
It's not that I didn't enjoy all these virtues; in fact, I was rather flattered at first when people began calling "Princess" and asking timidly if I would like a clean paintbrush and new paints. Or seconds at dinner, or a nice new necklace. Things like that. But soon I got tired of hearing "Princess, Princess" all day long. It was never just Rapunzel, or Blondie, or Coco-Puff as a certain somebody liked to call me. Just Princess this, Princess that. Arrrgh.
And then there are lessons. Everything that can be taught, and everything else, is taught to the princess. Lucky me, I have to spend a good deal of my day absorbing (or trying to absorb) the endless lists of names and dates in Corona's history, not to mention my etiquette lessons, posture/poise lessons, writing lessons, singing lessons, princess lessons…. the list goes on and on. They even have a "looking beautiful" lesson, if you can believe it.
But THANK HEAVEN I have three wonderful people in my life who let me take it easy when things get rough. They are – be still, my heart – my fabulous parents and Eugene.
King Jonathan and Queen Isabel love just about everything I do. Mother likes to watch me paint, covering the walls of my new room with forest foliage, ocean waves, and softly glowing lanterns. Daddy enjoys escorting me through the palace gardens and plays long, concentrated games of chess with me. Both my parents want to catch up on the eighteen years I was held captive in that old tower.
And then there is Eugene, Eugene Dylan Fitzherbert, formerly known as Flynn Rider, the wanted thief. He is – oh gosh, how to describe him. He is everything to me; he is the part of my life that I can't live without. He is the one who took me to see the lanterns I had dreamed of seeing since I was three years old, he is the one who would do anything to free me from Gothel, my kidnapper; he is the one who gave his life to save me.
I love him.
And although I didn't know it at the time, he would soon be snatched away from me again.
And this time, I would be powerless to save him.
O*O*O
Meep! Did I get off track here?
Gee, I hope not.
Don't forget to review!
Peace and cupcakes,
Silverbells