There's a man in Rapunzel's tower.
There is a man in Rapunzel's tower.
And his eyes are on her.
For one surreal moment, the two stare at each other, frozen, and she takes in brown hair and amber eyes and an angular face. She feels as if she's been dunked in ice water. The moment breaks when he rushes forward and she turns on her heel to run, but before she can take two steps, he grabs her from behind, one arm wrapping around her stomach and the other clamping down on her mouth. "Shh," he whispers into her right ear, and it sends a tremor down her spine. She tries to scream, but it's noiseless against his palm.
Her heart feels like a hummingbird trying to fly out of her chest, sending a wave of undiluted panic through her veins. Mother's warnings are ringing in her head. She channels all her strength into twisting out of his arms, and she's stunned at how useless it is against his iron grip, how he doesn't even budge from the spot he's rooted them in. She tries to say let me go, but it comes out muffled and unintelligible.
Rapunzel's terror gives way to the slightest bit of indignation when she realized the man isn't even paying attention to her. Instead he's looking out the window, eyes fixed on the land seventy feet below.
A full minute inches by before he seems to decide that whatever danger outside has passed, and he finally loosens his grip. "Thank god," he breathes, and she's still pressed close enough against his body that she can feel the shudder of relief that passes through him. At last, he turns his focus to Rapunzel. "I'll let you go if you promise not to run or scream," he says. "I won't hurt you." His voice is low and heady and so different from Mother's, or her own.
Even through the fog of her terror and confusion, Rapunzel finds that she believes him. Before she can come to her senses, she nods, and he releases her, lifting his hand from her mouth. Rapunzel gasps for air and spins around to face him. Every instinct tells her to run, but she is helpless in the face of her overwhelming curiosity. She wants—no, she needs—to see this man who's broken into her tower. This person from the outside world.
It's her first close look at him, and she expects the worst, but this man is evidently not very monster-like. In fact, his face is … rather nice. Warm, deep eyes. Strong cheekbones, a sharp jawline and a straight, prominent noise, and a dozen other things that shouldn't look good but somehow do. Mother's idea of beauty is feminine, delicate, and porcelain. This man's appearance is anything but, and yet she cannot deny his appeal. She stares openly.
The man seems to have noticed her hair for the first time, and she can tell he's trying to hide a flicker of surprise. That's… strange. He's here for her hair, isn't he? Then why does he look confused to see it? A surge of self-consciousness hits Rapunzel and she quickly gathers the blonde locks into her hands, protective. Then, like waking up from a trance, she squeaks and steps backwards. What is she doing? Gazing into the eyes of this—this intruder?
No, she has to be calm. She can't show fear. This is her chance. She asks, "Who are you, and how did you find me?"
"I'm…" He hesitates. "No need for introductions, Blondie. I'm the guy who's going to be out of your life very soon. Right about now, actually." He makes for the window again, but not before he reaches down for the leather satchel at his hip. The man tries to be casual about it, but she can see him feeling through the cover, making sure something's still in place. Rapunzel files this information away for later use.
"Wait," she yelps, reaching out to grab his arm. He turns around with an annoyed look.
"Look, sorry if I scared you back there, but I've got get to a move on. You'll get over it. Breaking and entering… kind of comes with the job."
"You're really going to leave? You don't want my hair?"
The man raises one dark eyebrow and her stomach flips. "Seems like you've got more than enough to go around, but no thanks."
She's still trying to reconcile this information when a singsong voice rings out from below, and her blood runs cold.
"Rapunzel, let down your haaaaaaair!"
The man whips around. "Who's that?"
Rapunzel doesn't reply. Mother's coming, and she'll see him, this man, and it won't matter that he doesn't want her hair, she'll get rid of him. She'll get rid of him and Rapunzel will be right back where she started, with no connection to anything outside this stone tower. She makes up her mind right then: she doesn't care if he's an intruder, she doesn't even care if he has jagged teeth. There are bigger things to worry about.
"Get in the closet," she hisses, surprised at how commanding her own voice sounds, "over there." She points to the blue armoire at the back of the room.
"What? No."
"Please. I'll explain everything later, but she cannot see you or she'll catch you. You can come out when she's gone."
Maybe it's the word "catch", or simply the sheer urgency in her voice, but he obliges. "Fine," he says, and disappears into the closet in the blink of an eye.
Rapunzel exhales in relief. "Coming, Mother!" She hurries over to the window and swings her hair over the wooden support, letting it tumble down to where the dark-haired woman is waiting. Rapunzel pulls Gothel up slower than usual so she has time to let her breathing return to normal and her fingers cease their shaking.
Gothel steps into the room with a flourish, undoing her cloak and handing it to Rapunzel. "Oh, I've missed you, my flower," she purrs. "But I haven't missed those clumsy hands of yours! I swear you get slower every day, Rapunzel."
This is it. This is her moment to be an honest daughter. Tell the truth, and everything can go back to the way it was this morning…
Too bad that's the last thing she wants.
"Um, I'm sorry about that, Mother." Rapunzel forces herself not to look at the armoire. "Why don't you go get some rest instead of cooking dinner? I can—"
"What a wonderful idea! Come now, sing for me." Gothel strides over to her favorite chair. Eager to distract Gothel from her surroundings, Rapunzel brings her the brush and piles her hair onto her mother's lap. She opens her mouth to sing the oh-so-familiar incantation.
Flower gleam and glow…
The sunlight spilling into the tower pales in comparison to the incandescent gold that begins at her roots and races down the waterfall of hair. Gothel holds the precious silk in her hands and sighs, relishing in the prickling warmth that spreads through her blood as the magic reaches her skin. The gray of her hair deepens to an inky black. Her lined face softens and grows plumper, smoother. Her back straightens and the smattering of age spots on her chest fade to an unblemished white.
At the other side of the room, a thief watches from the crack between the heavy wooden doors of the armoire, visions of gold dancing before his eyes.
author's note: well, i'm roughly 9 years late to the party, but i've always dearly loved this movie and rewatched it this week, and it seems to be just the right thing to break my writer's block. this will be an AU retelling of tangled with a darker and more realistic tone, and as such flynn's character will be more callous and self-interested. reviews are love 3