"I'll be here."
Rapunzel watched from the window of her tower as her mother walked through the gaping hole in the rock, concealed on the other side by a curtain of leaves and vines. Despite knowing the exit to this confined part of the forest where her tower of seclusion hid, she didn't dare venture out; she was safer inside.
She let her 70ft of golden hair spill freely over the window ledge and billow gently in the wind. The contact it made with the blades of grass below was the closest she had come to touching the expansive greenery and her heart ached with longing.
Contemplating her loneliness, she sighed wistfully. Although she had her mother and Pascal, an amiable chameleon and her loyal companion, her life felt incomplete. She knew it was dangerous outside and that the magic held in the fibres of her hair would make her vulnerable, but somehow that wasn't enough to ease her yearning.
Above all, she was determined to see the floating lights, in person. Having charted stars, she realised that the lights she saw appeared only her birthday. From this she knew that, in some way, they were significant to her. The need to discover was stronger than any desire she had felt to leave her tower before. Yet her mother doubted her capability. Rapunzel wondered how much longer she would have to spend her life held restrained, bound by invisible chains of overprotective love. Was the world so terrible that it was better to imprison oneself, much like the surrounding curved walls had been limiting her for nearly 18 years? It was this unforeseeable future that intensified her loneliness.
He hurtled through the sky at an alarming speed; the ground came sickeningly closer to his face as his body descended rapidly towards it. Before crashing to the earth, he cursed aloud to the horse who sentenced him to this grizzly end and mentally prayed to be a rich man in his next life.
He closed his eyes to await his sentence.
The impact was softer than he had anticipated, but he still seemed to be falling. He reopened his eyes to find himself tumbling through the canopies of several trees before plummeting clumsily into a blossoming bush. Although he experienced stabbing pains in several places over his body and his joints protested at him angrily, he was also aware that his equine pursuer was still on his trail and that, with unbelievable luck, he still possessed the satchel.
He immediately jumped to his feet.
Without any hesitation, he darted for the boulder ahead of him, uncomfortably conscious that the horse had landed not far behind him. He held his breath as he heard the sound of its hooves drawing nearer to him, trying to pick up his scent. When it passed by, he slowly stepped back and placed his hand on the wall behind him, only to grunt at the unearthing that it was a veil of vines, concealing the entrance to a small cave. His audible discovery brought the horse back on his trail with a deafening whinny, and he dived into the leafy curtain, clutching his satchel tightly to his chest.
His heart pounded loudly. With even more luck, the horse passed on again and he made haste in following the light at the other end of the tunnel.
After spending a while at her window, soothed by the occasional breeze on her face, Pascal tugged impatiently at the sleeve of her dress.
Pushing the hair from her face and then lowering her hands to cup her chin in her palms, she turned politely to the green chameleon. "Yes, Pascal?"
Using his tail, he pointed eagerly at a pile of wooden bits, string and paint pots on a table at the other side of the room.
"You're right, Pascal," Rapunzel agreed, immediately understanding his request. "We should finish building the den I promised you."
Reluctantly, she dragged herself away from the ledge, her hair ascending the length of the tower the further she made distance from her original position at the window.
She kneeled at the small table whilst Pascal sat on the base she had already constructed to test its sturdiness. Satisfied, he nodded his head which was followed by an approving grunt. He then scurried over to the pot of green paint and placed a confident hand on its rim.
Rapunzel laughed sweetly. "Yes, Pascal. We can paint it green."
Once he was certain that the horse was no longer following him, he turned around to face the hidden world he had stepped into.
His eyes widened at what existed before him: the area was small and enclosed by two stone cliffs that were staggeringly high. They met at a point at the back of the glade and a waterfall descended gracefully between them, leading into a gentle stream that shimmered in his direction. The ground he stood on sloped down to the water before rising again almost vertically to a grassy mound, decorated with wild flowers and dainty bushes that surrounded an impressive tower. As tall and as elegant as its pointed purple turret, it was almost the height of the stone cliffs behind it. Long green vines grew up the tower's crumbling neck, leading to a rounded head with a large open window - the perfect hideout.
He ran down the hill and leaped onto the mound, being careful to avoid falling into the stream. Up close, the tower seemed a lot taller and he questioned whether he would be able to reach the top.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered, pulling out two arrows from his satchel. With a forceful stab into the wall, he began his climb.
Rapunzel used the time working on the model to distract herself from her saddened thoughts. Absorbed in the task at hand, she failed to hear the voice at the base of the tower.
Pascal nudged her urgently.
"What is it?" she asked curiously.
The chameleon jumped at an unsettling sound: a loud scrape against the stone wall that the neck of the tower was constructed from. Seconds later, the sound repeated – this time slightly louder, as if the disturbance were travelling up.
Rapunzel gripped the edge of the table, alarm paralysing her. The noise continued, and was soon followed by vocalised grunts.
"Ruffians," Rapunzel whispered fearfully. Determined to defend herself, she jumped to her feet to find a weapon. She threw cupboard doors open in the kitchen, pushing bowls, cups and wooden spoons aside. Her hand landed on a small pot and she quickly grabbed it.
Coming to her aid, Pascal shook his head and pulled firmly at a frying pan.
"Yes, thank you, Pascal," Rapunzel said frantically, gripping its handle determinedly.
The climb turned out to be a strenuous tasks, thanks to the bruising on his body, but he had no intention of giving up. With each stab he made into the bricks of the tower, he thought of the memories he usually pushed into the back of his mind, using them as a source of adrenaline. Together with his jewelled plunder and the tranquil sanctuary awaiting him, he accumulated enough determination and strength in which to reach the tower's window.
The sound of the intruder was becoming much louder and she knew she didn't have much time. She dashed over to a wooden beam beside the window to conceal herself. Breathing heavily, she noticed her hair lying across the floor, tresses pointing at different angles. In several frantic motions she gathered up the golden trail she had left and shoved it in a heap behind her.
As the intruder reached the ledge of the window, he jumped inside and slammed the doors behind him hastily. The sound of his desperate panting eased into a relieved sigh as he leaned against the wall.
Silently, Rapunzel moved towards him, adrenaline rushing through her body. The figure was male: tall with broad shoulders, dark hair and heavy boots. Facing his back, she watched him remove the satchel he was wearing and bring it to his front. What was inside she couldn't see.
He gave another huge sigh. "Alone at last."
Expecting him to remove a weapon from his bag, Rapunzel immediately hit him hard around the head, mustering all the strength she had to offer.
She gave a frightful squeak and hid behind her dressmaking mannequin. Wanting to be brave, she peered over the top and stared at the figure on the floor. He wasn't moving; she mentally congratulated herself on her aim. Curious, she pushed the mannequin forward and eventually stepped around it to take a closer look, bearing her frying pan for protection. His jaw length hair masked the face which beheld his identity. She prodded his head with the frying pan tentatively before drawing it back in defence in case he were to move. When he didn't, she looked at Pascal for reassurance. The chameleon, who was sat on the tiled floor beside her, shrugged in response.
Rapunzel knew she had little of this moment left before her mother returned. Desperation and anxiety flared inside her. She had wanted the opportunity to meet the outside world for so long; now that a part of that was inside her tower, she was at loss with what to do.
Using her frying pan again, she turned his head on its side, again bracing herself for any signs of movement. Locks of hair still rested on his face. Her eyes were wide, fearful; she breathed heavily.
Realising Pascal was trying to get her attention, she distractedly looked at him. The small creature plodded over to the red painting of a 'ruffian' that Rapunzel's mother had painted on the ground, as an example of what she was trying to protect her from. The painting had fangs which Pascal mimicked by altering his skin to a shade of red and putting his fingers in front of his mouth to represent the sharp canines. Rapunzel nodded her head in understanding. She grimaced.
Holding the rim of the frying pan, she used the handle to lift the being's upper lip. It revealed a set of straight, white teeth. Bemused, she decided to flick the remainder of hair from his face.
The man's eyes were closed and his expression was softened. He wasn't how mother had described at all. Her body relaxed as she examined him. She had never seen a ruffian before but she knew that he wasn't one.
As she leaned in closer, the man suddenly awoke; the eye which faced her opened. Without any hesitation she hit him with the base of her frying pan again.