Don't ask me why I called this fic "Forever" when I only mention the word forever a few times! Ack! It just sounded good, okay? :-}

Never mind. So, I decided to post this one-shot because I kind of like the relationship Rapunzel's got with Gothel. Not that I like the fact that Gothel kidnapped her! Nooo! It's just so interesting to see how they interact with each other. Hence reason number one for this fic.

Reason number two would be that I wanted to explore this more mature writing style that I've recently adapted to as opposed to the silly, humorous style that goes into most of my other stories.

And reason number three? IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! Yes, as of today, July 17, I am officially 14 years old! Yahoo-ee-hoo-ee-hoo-ee!

Ahem. Enough rambling. Ladies and gents, I present to you:

WAITWAITWAIT. I DON'T OWN TANGLED! NOT EVEN THE DVD! SOB! *quickly regains composure*

Okay, NOW I present to you:

Forever

The floating lights are too beautiful to be left a mystery. They are like fireflies released from a jar, glowing yellow and orange and pink as they bump their way through the night sky. They are more than just a show, or a mystery. They are both a wonder and a form of freedom.

Rapunzel leans over her windowsill, her hair spilling down her back and over her shoulder, cascading seventy feet to the ground. A sweet summer breeze caresses her face, teasing a few loose strands of silky gold. Pressing her palms against the rough wood, she leans out her window much farther than common sense would dictate. The night is still, holding its breath.

And then they rise, hovering up above distant treetops and riding the night breezes into the sky. Their glows are soft yet bright; they are not quite lights and not quite birds. They are stars of free will. Reflected in her eyes, they glow with warm light that she can almost almost feel on her face, if she imagines hard enough. She closes her eyes for a brief second and imagines that she is there, surrounded by these lights, bathed in their glow. She imagines that she puts out her hand, reaches for one and feels its heat on her palm.

She imagines that she holds it for a moment before putting out her hand and releasing it, watching as it soars up, up, up – a mystery, a wonder, a star set free.

She opens her eyes; the lights have grown fainter and are now ascending up above the dark silhouette of what her books call a castle. They are still visible, but barely. Soon, they will be gone completely, not to return until next year, this very day, on a night as dark and beautiful as this one.

These lights are her friends, her companions, her comfort. They appear without fail each night on her birthday, as if they are meant just for her. Perhaps it's merely coincidence, as Mother would say, but Rapunzel is a dreamer. Her heart swells with joy and wonder and – something else, whenever she sees the spots of sunshine rippling through the ocean of night. This is in no way coincidence, her heart says.

Once more she puts her hand out into the night. The air is warm and humid and stirs with a sluggish breeze. If she closes her eyes and imagines hard enough, she can feel the lights against her skin instead of air. She can see a bright future instead of a monotonous tomorrow. She can almost-almost-almost imagine a forever, one beyond her tower, instead of the life that has already been laid out before her.

These lights are too beautiful to keep a secret.

"Mother?" she calls, twisting around to see light seeping out from under the thin crack between the door and floorboards. If her mother has just been woken by Rapunzel's voice, then she will be in for a long lecture.

But Mother is, indeed, awake, and rather cross at that. She steps outside her room, still clad in her deep crimson dress that flatters her figure and goes so well with her clear gray eyes. "For heaven's sake, Rapunzel, you should be asleep," she scolds, crossing the room to stand next to her daughter. "What on earth are you doing at this hour?"

"Look, Mother," Rapunzel says in a hushed voice. She tilts her head out the window. "Just... look."

Gothel looks. She draws in a sharp breath and takes a step closer. "What on earth...? Rapunzel, where did you –"

"Just watch, Mother."

Gothel reluctantly gazes out the window, her eyes following the motion of the floating lights bobbing through the sky. A calm, warm hush falls over the tower as mother and daughter both gaze, silently, at this small act of amazing courage, floating free without knowing where exactly you're going; without knowing what exactly lies ahead.

"I feel like they're meant for me," Rapunzel whispers, still staring out her window. "I feel like... well... that they're showing me my forever. Like I'm meant to be with there, with them. Forever."

The word goes nicely with the soothing flight of her lights. Forever.

Instead of mocking her, or rolling her eyes as she usually does, Gothel is quiet. "Mm, Rapunzel. If you must." Her hand, which has been hovering unnecessarily close to Rapunzel's head the whole time, now begins to stroke her hair protectively, almost defiantly, as they watch those tiny bits of sunshine soar through the darkness.

A few moments later, Gothel lets her hand drop to her side. "Well. Enough's enough. Go back to bed, flower."

"In a moment." Rapunzel rarely defies her mother. For a moment it seems as though Gothel is about to argue, but she merely sighs and holds out her arms for a hug.

"I love you very much, my flower."

"I love you more."

"I love you most." Her mother drops a kiss atop Rapunzel's head and retires to her room. Not until she is sure her mother is gone does she return to her window spot.

Her lights have almost completely vanished by now; she props her chin on her hands and follows the last few spots of brightness float up, up, up, past the moon and sky and stars to who knows where. She closes her eyes and imagines she is flying with them. When she opens her eyes again they are still there, growing smaller and smaller as they climb higher into the sky. She watches them, full of longing and wonder, watches them until they are merely flecks of gold against a deep blue backdrop. She watches them until the moonlight has burned spots on her vision and she can no longer distinguish them from the stars.

So... does anyone besides me think I was a little repetitive in my descriptions of the lanterns? :-/ Yep, I thought so. Sorry about that!

And if anyone is wondering about how old Punzi is on this particular night... it's entirely up to you! Anywhere between the ages of twelve and eighteen is good enough. Hey, maybe for my next birthday I can write a whole 'nother one-shot that takes place after she's reunited with her parents! :D And – OMG I JUST REALIZED THAT I DIDN'T MENTION PASCAL! :O I'M SORRY, LITTLE GUY! I WUV YOU!

Okay, let's just assume (since I don't want Pascal on my case for this) that our beloved froggy sidekick is already snoozing 'cause the lantern show is way past his bedtime.

Rapunzel: He's a chameleon!

Er... chameleon. (Darn you, Flynn. You're so much fun to copy.)

Read, review, and tell me what you think!

Peace, love, and Pascal-shaped birthday cupcakes,

Silverbells