Appliqué
A/N: So I finally got 'round to watching "Tangled" on the weekend. This is the result.
Setting down her needlework, she watched her; the perfect oval face, her long brown hair (she had even counted the number of kinks where a new wave of curls began), those beautiful, gentle, understanding eyes.
Mother, she thought. (Her real mother).
But, unbidden, Mother (not her mother) flew into her mind's eye. Mother (not her mother!) feeding her- "Here, flower, take another sip. It's hazelnut soup. Do you like it?"
White paint, and beautiful little sea shells; books, so many books, singing in front of the fire as Mother stroked her face, tenderly brushed her hair.
Aye, and that was the rub! Brushed her hair! Loved her- for her hair! Called her flower, not out of endearment, but because that was all she was to the old woman- a flower in human form! Mother (not her mother!) had told her that, sneered it, as she had tied the cloth around her mouth.
"You want to know the truth? I'll tell you the truth! I only took you because you were the living flower, only you could keep me young! You want me to be harsh? I'll be harsh! You thought I called you 'flower' because I loved you? It's what you are- it's all you are! And I'll keep you, because you'll see you need me, you'll see you depend upon me- Mother knows best, Mother knows best!"
Tears, hatred, and- what hurt most- a sense of keen (betrayal).
And that was the worst of it.
She had loved Mother (not her mother). She had loved her all those years, even when she sensed that Mother did not always seem to love her as much as she loved herself, even when Mother had not let her leave the tower; she had loved her, had loved baking for her, singing for her.
"Here, flower, add a cup- yes! Just like that! My clever little girl!"
"I love you Mummy."
Fingers gently running through her long, long, golden hair.
"No, star, you've got the order wrong. I love you very much."
Throwing her arms around the woman's neck, burying her face against the dark, warm, familiar collar.
"I love you more."
A tender kiss, dropped so gently on her forehead she almost missed it; a whisper caressing her very soul.
"I love you most."
She closed her eyes, the water gently prickling like knives.
Knives and shattered mirrors, clutching at foreign ropes of dark brown; grey, wiry curls, eyes widened in horror, and Mother tripping, tripping backwards out a window-
Falling-
Falling-
Something treacherously hot burned her cheek.
Don't cry, she thought desperately, this is our time- Mother's and mine- I mustn't upset her, she hasn't seen me in over eighteen years! I've had a Mother- I had Mother- but she hasn't had a daughter!
"Rapunzel, darling?"
Rapunzel opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) and saw Mother (her real mother) standing before her. Her eyes were soft and filled with concern, yet Rapunzel could see the fear hidden within. Fear that they had found the knot in their still delicate relationship, trying to form a pattern that had long ago been thrown askew.
"Are you all right, darling?"
She quickly brushed her eyes and gave a shaky laugh.
"I'm fine- Mother," she said, haltingly. "I- I think I'm just tired. It's been a long day."
Even as she spoke, she could hear how feeble her excuse was, and she felt ashamed. Yet she could not bring it in her to tell the truth, she had not even been able to tell Eugene. She hadn't dared broach it with Pascal.
"Oh, honey," her mother (her real mother) said, cupping her cheek. Rapunzel fought from flinching.
(Getting slightly chubby!)
Mother (her real mother) withdrew ever so slightly, and Rapunzel felt the gulf widen between them (a gulf so wide she wondered if she could have breached it with her old, long hair).
"Your embroidery is excellent," her mother murmured, turning away. Rapunzel felt, rather than heard, the tremor in her voice. "I have nothing left to teach you there."
"I love you," she quickly stammered, hoping it could pass for an apology.
Her mother looked at her sadly, then touched her cheek as though she were afraid Rapunzel would blow away with the wind.
"I love you more," she whispered, and before Rapunzel could say anything, could even hear the echoes of the past, she was enfolded in a tight embrace.
As the tears burst through her eyes (rushing like the water, just like that time when she and Eugene had been trapped in the tunnel, and she'd sung that song Mother had taught her all those years ago, and they'd managed to escape)- Rapunzel desperately wrapped her arms around the Queen.
Make the clock reverse
Bring back what once was mine
Save what once was lost
Bring back what once was mine
What once was mine
Then she heard the unspoken whisper, saw the dark eyes and pointed chin, felt the cool touch of pale skin, felt the phantom brush across her forehead-
I love you most.
