A/N: So that you guys know what you're in for—this is basically an AU rewrite of Frozen from Rapunzel's POV set immediately after the canonical events of Tangled in which I'm attempting to hit on some of the problems that would (to me) obviously arise from Rapunzel's arrival in her parents' kingdom. I love Tangled and have a lot of issues with Frozen, so it's going to be very Tangled characters-centric with a moderate amount of Anna, a dash of Elsa, and a complete overhaul of Frozen's plot thrown in. I already have two WIPs to finish and two original novels to write, but screw it—my dumbass roommate planted the idea for Tangled in my head, and then Frozen worked its way in there, and now it's happening. LET'S GO. Reviews are love!

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Chapter 1: Gunther Does Interior Design

The party lasted an entire week, and then everything started to end.

Queen Primrose—Mum, they asked me to call them Mum and Dad, I'm still working through it—breaks my reverie with a knock at the door, and it takes me a second to remember that I don't need to tell Pascal to hide before letting her in (things are so different here than in my tower). I walk to the door and hedge a smile as Mum greets me. "Good morning, Quee—uh…"

"That's—it's—that's quite all right, Rapunzel. We've been…" Primrose stammers.

"You know, I think Primrose is a really pretty name."

"I think that Rapunzel is a lovely name, too."

We flash those hesitant smiles again, and I step back to invite Queen Primrose into the room. She and King Corona offered me the big suite next to theirs at first, but they let me have the room in the garret nestled above the big window that overlooks the town square. It's the room with the best view (and comfortably high up, but let's not talk about that), but it's small and mostly unfurnished, since there's obviously been no need for anybody to sleep up here. Queen Primrose—Mum wanted to have one of her servants convert it into a bedroom for me right away, but Eugene thought it might be good to scavenge through some of the old things of the King and Queen's in the basement storage rooms, make a project out of it, which seemed like just as good an idea to me.

It's not like I know what to do with myself now that I'm here, anyway, except… meet and greet. And there are so many people to meet and greet. I've read about princes and princesses before, but storybooks don't exactly give you detailed statistical demographics about how many people live in each kingdom, and it's only ever been me and Mother. It's only ever been me and Mother.

So I've been sleeping on the under-stuffed sofa that was already up here, and Pascal's taken up residence by the window in Eugene's room underneath my attic, left of the stained glass. He's never liked to stay indoors, not even overnight when he'd visit me at the tower, so I guess it makes him happiest to get a good look at the view outside from a room that actually has a view.

Mum steps inside and looks back and forth between me and my bare surroundings: just the sofa and, at the other end of the room, a fat dresser complete with a bouquet on top. "I see you've started decorating a bit," Queen Primrose says in that simple voice, that faraway voice, of hers. "Did you bring those from home?" she asks next, nodding to the dresser.

"Um, no, actually, I have a friend who's a florist—we met when I was on my way here to see the lanterns. He dropped them off for me at the celebration yesterday."

"That's—er—I'm very glad you've been making friends, dear. I know this all must be—well…"

I try not to show it, but it's only ever been me and Mother, or me and Pascal. I miss my tower, and my books, and my paints.

"No, I'm glad I'm here. I was actually thinking that I might get started redecorating today."

Queen Primrose looks heartened and warms up a little, color dabbing at her cheeks. "That's wonderful, Rapunzel. I was hoping—if it would be all right with you—that I might join you to help you choose pieces to bring upstairs? I'm sure that the maids would be happy to sleep in a bit and spend more time with you tonight instead."

Oops—I didn't count on this. At all. "Well…"

•

To her credit, Queen—Mum's face only falls a little when I leap to greet Gunther at the bottom of the stairs leading into the garret. "Gunther!"

"Hi, blondie," he rasps. Eugene's first-impression nickname for me circulated around the Snuggly Duckling a lot faster than my name did, and they've all been using it even now that I'm… darker. My head feels too light, and it's making me feel sluggish walking across rooms to do things like open doors. "How's it going?"

"I'm great," I tell him, not really lying. "Here, come meet my mum. She wanted to help out after I told her we were moving me in today."

"Excellent," says Gunther, heaving himself inside the room behind me. "Your highness."

"Please, um, call me Primrose."

"Your castle is too bright, Queen Primrose. Not enough cool colors."

I cringe; Pascal smacks my neck lightly but sternly with his tail. "So, Gunther, we're going to be going through the basement storerooms, isn't that right, Qu—Mum?"

Primrose nods—shakily at first, then vigorously—and invites us to follow her back downstairs. Not, however, until Gunther's passed me a small unicorn figurine: "Vladimir wants you to have this as a housewarming gift." I light up, but my delight cools as Primrose seems to recede further into herself.

With his stiletto boots and exposed chest, Gunther clashes with Queen Primrose's marble castle, where everyone seems to tread with care and cautious smiles. Maybe I'm more nervous than I should be because I don't exactly have a history of experience with social cues, but Mum certainly looks uncomfortable to me, and it starts to rub off on me as we trek downstairs into the storerooms. Is it all my fault for inviting Gunther? Should I have thought beforehand that Primrose would hope to use the time for mum and daughter to get to know each other? Adjusting to being around people would be so much easier if everyone said aloud what they felt.

Did Mother ever say aloud what she felt?

For a castle as untouchable as Mum's, the odds and ends littering the basement make for a refreshing contrast to the upstairs. There aren't exactly overstuffed armchairs with their innards poking out sitting around anywhere, but there's clutter and color and a mismatch of period pieces that make me (and, from the looks of it, Gunther) feel more at ease. When Mum apologizes for the mess, I start to tell her there's no until Gunther beats me to it with a sharp, "No, this is an improvement, darling, trust me."

Primrose's eyebrows crease and her eyes round, but she says nothing, dusting her fingers over tables and lamps as she weaves her way through the room. I hedge a laugh and make, then abruptly break, eye contact with Pascal.

"What about this one, dear?" she asks, nodding to an off-white dresser with sloping, curved legs.

It's not completely my style, but the Queen doesn't need to know that. "That looks great, Mum. It would look nice with one of the purple kingdom flags on top, don't you think?"

Before Primrose can reply, though, Gunther interrupts, "No, no-no, what are you thinking, blondie? So drab. At least some of the other furniture down here is carved from darker woods."

A defensive that I don't understand bubbles up inside me. "What's so bad about white?"

"And what's so bad about the dark?"

"I—well… nothing, I guess. But you can't paint on it."

"Paint on it," says Gunther. "I haven't seen very many painted things in this castle, is that right, your majesty?"

By now, Primrose's mouth has dropped into a helpless o, and she opens and closes it more than once before responding. "Rapunzel is welcome to decorate her room however she likes. I know that coming here must be difficult for you, dear," she adds to me.

"What? Oh—it's not so bad," I tell her automatically, but Mum's face tips me off right away that this was the wrong thing to say.

"Your father and I want to make life here as comfortable as we can for you…"

"I know! I know. It's so good to be here, Mum, really."

But the silence that follows is as good a sign as anything that Queen Primrose doesn't believe me. After a painful moment, Gunther clears his throat and says, "So you're choosing the white one, then? You both have terrible taste, I must say, but far be it for me to overstep…"