So I caved and did the thing! I've only written this short intro chapter, to sort of feel the waters and tease the story a little bit, and I'll publish the rest after it's all written so no one is left waiting! So expect a wait between now and the rest, but it's coming!
That being said, I hope you enjoy the intro! (some of it is word for word from the movie, it's intentional, the rest won't be written that way don't worry!)
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Tangled or it's storyline or characters, nor do any of Tolkien's characters belong to me!
This is the story of how I died.
Don't worry, this is actually a very fun story and the truth is, it isn't even mine.
This is the story of a boy named Bilbo and it starts with the sun.
Now, once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens and from this small drop of sun, grew a magic, golden flower. It's petals sparkled like sunlight on the ocean, it always smelled of sweet summer afternoons, and, most importantly, it had the ability to heal the sick and the injured.
Well, centuries passed, and a hop skip and a boat ride away, there grew a kingdom. The kingdom was ruled by a beloved King and Queen. He, with his kind eyes and knack for peaceful resolutions among his people, and She, with her riot of bouncing brown curls framing soft blue eyes, and her economic know-how, combining to ensure prosperity for all within their kingdom.
The royal couple stood atop a balcony in the palace, hands clasped together as the air rang with shouts of praise. The citadel below them was packed full to bursting with bright, happy faces, young and old and everywhere in between, waving the House Colors and chanting songs of loyalty. Death and disease rates were low, trade was bustling, and even the weather seemed to reflect the peace and prosperity of the kingdom of the Shirefolk, warm sunshine without a cloud in the sky.
It worked, fantastically well, and all were happy and thriving. At least, to the best of their knowledge.
But that part of the story comes later. Back to the backstory. The Queen, well, she was about to have a baby.
But then she got sick. Really sick.
She was running out of time, and that's when people usually start to look for a miracle. Or in this case, a magic golden flower.
The guards of the palace searched high and low for a cure to help heal the queen, rapidly approaching the date of the birth of her child. The flower was not far from the palace but it was hidden from plain sight, its location a secret held only by a man who went by the name of Smaug. See, Smaug was greedy, selfish, and he'd happened upon the flower hundreds of years ago, discovering that he could harness its incredible power to lengthen his life. All he had to do was sing a special song...
A hooded figure crouched low and crawled through the underbrush, whipping their head around in search of signs they'd been followed. Satisfied that they were alone, they slowly draped back their hood and removed the secret cover hiding the flower. With gnarled and spotted fingers he grasps a petal lightly, its incandescent sparkle reflecting in harsh, piercing amber eyes. The wrinkles which drooped and sagged about his face pulled taught and his skin cleared of blemishes as he sang in a low, rumbling growl.
Flower, gleam and glow
Let your power shine
Make the clock reverse
Bring back what once was mine
What once was mine...
All right, you get the gist. He sings to it, he turns young, creepy, right?
But Smaug wasn't careful, and the palace guards discovered the flower, most of them weeping in relief.
The magic of the golden flower healed the queen, and a healthy baby boy, a prince was born, with beautiful golden hair.
The baby rolled around his beautifully gilded crib, his parents smiling down at him, finally letting out a breath it seemed they'd been holding since the Queen fell ill and the sun seemed to fade from the sky above the kingdom, it too abandoning hope. He had a gorgeous mop of golden hair that sparkled like sunlight on the ocean, and eyes like a well that you can't see the bottom of. He squirmed and squealed up at his parents, the picture of sunshine when all it's done is rain for months. A breath of sweet summer air, this child was. A new hope for all the Shire.
I'll give you a hint: that's Bilbo.
To celebrate his birth, the King and Queen launched a dazzling volley of fireworks into the sky, a special concoction created by their trusted adviser and long-time family friend Gandalf Greyhame, whizzing and popping and sparking intricate patterns across the stars. And for that one moment, everything was perfect.
And then that moment ended.
One night, with the moonlight draped across the palace walls like a pale sheet, the balcony door to young Bilbo's bedroom swung open slowly and silently. Hooded and cloaked as ever, Smaug crept up over the balcony and into the quiet of the room, coming to stoop over the baby's crib. Silver hair shone in the moonlight, his age again catching up to him, and he needed another dose of the flower's magic - and soon.
Taking a lock of Bilbo's glimmering golden hair (now grown quite long in his short time on this earth) between his fingers and the blade of a knife, he sang the special rhyme low and hushed in the quiet night.
Flower, gleam and glow
Let your power shine
Make the clock re-
Smaug gasped, a pang of fear piercing the room as golden color drained from the severed lock, like water down a drain, turning it a mousy brown.
A deep breath of calm, calculated thought, and his decision was made.
Smaug broke into the castle, stole the child and just like that–
Gone.
The kingdom searched and searched but they could not find the prince. For deep within the forest, in a hidden tower, Smaug raised the child as his own.
Heal what has been hurt
Change the fate's design
Save what has been lost
Bring back what once was mine
What once was mine...
Smaug had found his new magic flower, but this time he was determined to keep it hidden.
"Why can't I go outside?" Bilbo, just a little boy, no older than 6, peered over the windowsill. His little eyes were much too sad for his age.
"The outside world is a dangerous place, filled with horrible, selfish people. You must stay here, where you're safe. Do you understand, flower?" Smaug curled a long-fingered hand into the boy's long, honey-gold hair -almost to his knees, it grew so fast- and tucked a short brown lock behind his ear. It never grew back, where it had been cut, and it would always be that soft brown color, standing out amongst the waterfall of gold.
"Yes daddy."
But the walls of that tower could not hide everything.
Each year, on his birthday, the King and Queen released thousands of fireworks into the sky, in hope that one day, their lost prince would return.
Please do let me know what you think! :)