I've been plotting out this Tangled AU for over a month. It essentially started with the idea that Victor would make an adorable Rapunzel and went from there. In the meantime, a few artists have (unrelated) started drawing this AU on tumblr. There are some beautiful pieces for it so look for them! I do want to say that as far as my aesthetic for it, the one that probably fits the best is wickederosyuri's take on it. You can see her art here: wickederosyuri. tumblr. com tagged/yoi-tangled-au (take out spaces) !

Anyway, YOI gives me life. This fandom has been my sun and stars for the last few months, and I'm so, so excited to finally contribute writing to it, but I am also super duper nervous! I hope you all enjoy. Reviews are much appreciated! Thank you to Abarero for the beta. This is crossposted on ao3 under the penname Haro. See the end of the work for more notes. This should run seven chapters.

Warm and Real and Bright

Chapter 1: Flower, gleam and glow

My name is Yuuri Katsuki, and I'm going to tell you a story. Luckily it's not a story about me, because I'm not exactly the most interesting guy in the world, but if you were hoping for that for some reason, don't worry, I'm still in it. Er, later on at least.

This is the story of a man named Victor, and he's… a very special man actually, more special than anyone I've ever met. Anyway, his story starts with the moonlight.

Or rather than moonlight, a very specific, very rare moment where a moonbeam intersected with the dust from a falling star and a magic flower bloomed in its wake. It was a beautiful white flower; it's petals sparkling with dew and glittering with an aura of enchantment and life, and according to legend, it could heal all woes.

That was what the stories said, at least…

But for centuries, no one could locate the flower. Until one day, not too far away, an otherwise thriving kingdom sent out a search party in desperate need of it. You see the king and queen of this small but prosperous kingdom had been trying for years to have a baby, and finally, after so long, they were with child. However, far into her pregnancy the queen grew very ill, and it seemed inevitable that both she and her child would perish if something were not done. Healers from all over the continent came, but to no avail. The queen continued to grow worse.

The legends of the magic flower, despite how far-fetched they were, were the kingdom's last hope.

Sorry if I'm getting a little boring here, I'm not the best at storytelling. I'll hurry along. Anyway it was a long and tiresome search, but they found the flower eventually, and they made it back to the kingdom just in time. The kingdom's doctors made a tonic from the flower and the queen drank it, and… just a few weeks later, a little miracle was born.

He had hair that was silver white to the point of near glowing, just like a moonbeam intersecting with stardust, and eyes that were the color of a summer sea, and he was alive and vibrant and proof of the love the kingdom had for their king and queen and the love the king and queen had for each other, and his name was… Victor.

To honor his birth, the king and queen launched a single floating lantern in the sky at night, upward toward the moon, as if giving thanks. It was everything they could have ever wanted. A happy ending, right?

Just a month later, he vanished.

They looked twice as hard for Victor as they had for the flower, but they came up with nothing. There was no sign of him anywhere, and after a time, they began to lose hope. But they never stopped trying. Every single year on his birthday, the people of the kingdom would send lanterns up into the night sky, multitudes of them, thousands upon thousands, in hopes that he would see them and know… know that they were for him and come home.

But even after twenty-one years, he still had not returned.

"Mmmm… Makkachin, it's too early, don't wake me up yet," Victor said, and he cracked open one of his ocean blue eyes, just in time for it to be met with the face of his dog, leaping onto his bed and directly onto him, licking his face excitedly as if he'd kept him waiting for hours. He hadn't. Victor was an early riser, and he always had been. "I know, I know. You're hungry." He gave Makkachin a scratch behind the ears, pressed a kiss to his nose, and pushed him off his body so he could get out of bed. "All right, fine."

To get out of bed, Victor didn't just have to push off his covers and step onto the floor, he also had to gather up his rather substantially long hair.

And this is where Victor's life took a turn for the strange, stranger than one could possibly imagine, although to Victor, it was all he'd ever known so he didn't think too much of it. Victor had been sheltered from the outside world since he was young, his only memories of it scant and hazy and… awful, but that's getting ahead in the story.

Victor was at least aware enough to know that his hair was exceptional, for even in all the stories he read, and he read so many, his home was filled to the brim with books, and he had endless free time to partake in them, no one had hair like his. No one had seventy feet of silver, almost white hair. No one had hair that glowed like the brightest of full moons when he sang to it.

He smiled and stepped, barefoot onto the wooden floor of his home, his tower.

It was tall and stately and beautiful, and he'd lived here most of his life. And he thought, he'd probably live here forever, because it's not as if he was ever going to stop having magic hair so it's not as if the world was ever going to stop being dangerous to him, right?

It was safe. He had every book in the world if he so asked for it. He had Makkachin. He was happy…

In his early years, he had lived with Lila, the woman who had found him as a toddler, in her home. But… one day he'd been out in the backyard, and he'd been attacked. He had the vaguest of memories of it, and sometimes in the middle of the night he woke up in a cold sweat, hair plastered to his forehead and eyes wide in terror, heartbeat fast and erratic as if he had been running for his life. The horror in those moments felt as real as it must have been when he was a child, when his short legs wouldn't have been able to help him at all and only his screams would have been able to do anything to assist him in his time of peril; to alert Lila of the danger occurring.

She'd managed to save him, but she'd almost died in the process, her injuries grievous. The men who wanted Victor were out for blood and would do anything to capture him. It was then and only then that Victor figured out how to use his powers.

"Flower, gleam and glow," he'd sung, and he didn't know where the words came from, he'd just felt them, bubbling up within him, like he'd always known them, like they were a part of him that had been with him since birth, a piece of his soul that he'd finally unlocked, "let your power shine." He'd wrapped as much of his long, long hair, for it was already so long at that point, down to his feet, around Lila. "Make the clock reverse." It had begun to glow, white like a moonbeam brushed with stardust, and he'd gasped, but he'd gulped and continued, his high-pitched, child's voice wavering, "bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt, change the fate's design." He grew more confident, feeling the power surge out of him. "Save what has been lost. Bring back what once was mine." A deep breath. "What once was mine."

He didn't remember much of the actual attack, only flashes of it, and the emotions, the terror associated with it, but he remembered that part clearly. He remembered Lila's wounds closing in front of him. And then he remembered the tower. After that, it was only the tower. From when he must have been about six years old, it was the only home he knew. Lila was never sure his age, but that was what she guessed. When she'd found him in the wood, abandoned and injured as a baby, she'd guessed he could not have been more than a year and a half old. There was a small bracelet around his wrist, the shape of a moonflower, and on the back was inscribed 'Victor, 25-12.' A birthday and a name, both of which he held close to his heart now. It was all he had of his true identity.

She considered her home too dangerous. They were after him for his power, she knew it. The tower was intended to be temporary, but they came again a year later, and she decided then, Victor would not ever be safe in her home. She heard them talking, and so did he. Sometimes in the night, although it was likely just a dream, he even heard voices outside the tower, on the ground, whispers that made his heart freeze and his only comfort was the fact that Makkachin wasn't reacting. Makkachin was his guard dog, and Lila had given him to Victor not only as a companion, but to protect him from anyone who might harm him.

The tower was beautiful and it was safe. Lila visited him every day, and although she was not particularly warm, she gave him what he asked for and taught him so many things; how to read, how to cook, how to paint, how to sew, how to dance (which he loved), and thankfully, how to care for his hair.

But even with Lila and Makkachin, he was growing lonely. He spent more and more time staring outside the tower, wondering what exactly did lay within the deep forest; green and inviting despite also being frightening. He may have had dark dreams about it, but some nights, he also had wonderful ones; dreams of seeing the animals and plants he read about up close, or the wonderful people in the kingdom he knew was beyond it, or dancing not just by himself, but with someone else.

Or best of all, seeing the lights. 25-12, the back of his bracelet had said, and every year on 25-12, he was greeted with the most breathtaking of sights. He wasn't sure what they were. They were too far away. They looked like thousands of stars rising into the sky as if they were in a race to see who could kiss the moon first, and they happened at the same time on his birthday (for he assumed it was his birthday) every single year. It was silly, and maybe he was just being a romantic, but… he liked to think that maybe, they were meant for him, and that someday… he could go out and see them, and perhaps even dance with someone too?

He was an adult now; far into adulthood in fact. He was much stronger than Lila too, wasn't he? He reached over and stroked Makkachin as he leaned out the tower window pushing a piece of his hair behind his ear. "Makkachin… I'm going to ask Lila if I can go see the lights for my birthday. Do you think she'll say yes?"

Makkachin barked. Victor let out a short laugh. "Wow. You're right. I still haven't fed you yet. Let me get right on that. Daydreaming doesn't fill your empty stomach, does it?" He let out a brief grimace when Makkachin tripped over his hair again, but laughed. "Careful there, don't get tangled up in it." He threw it over the rafters and shook his head. "That should do it. "Let's get you taken care of."

"Sakata! You're wasting time, hurry up so we can finish this job," called a woman's voice, and the man who'd been addressed turned around, shooting her a sheepish smile and scratching the back of his head.

"Sorry. It's just… the view up here is so beautiful." He adjusted his glasses and rested his chin on his hand, using the other one to finger the leather strap of his satchel. A piece of his short black hair fell down into his eyes and he quickly slicked it back with a low grumble.

"I guess that's true," she came up next to him, standing on the ledge of the roof. It was one of the highest points of the kingdom, a red shingled roof, pristine and well taken care of; just a hop skip and leap from the palace. "Still who knew that the famous Sakata no Kintoki, greatest thief in the region, was prone to getting distracted by daydreaming."

"Sara!" huffed a third person on the roof, and an auburn haired man came up next to the pair and crossed his arms over his chest, indignation clear on his face. "If we don't hurry up, we're going to run out of daylight."

"And who knew Michele of the famous Crispino Twins, didn't know that when it's not even nine a.m. yet there's plenty of daylight left in the day," said Sakata no Kintoki retorted. Sara burst out laughing, her head bobbing and her long, dark brown hair waving in the breeze. Michele ground his foot into the shingles of the roof and gritted his teeth. "Anyway, I just… this is hopefully going to be my last job so, I'm kind of taking it in, you know?"

"Your last job?"

He gave her a small smile. "I hope so. I didn't get into thieving because I like it."

Sara and Michele both shot him surprised looks, and Sara covered her mouth, her eyes widening. "You're the most famous, most wanted thief in the area, and you don't even want the job?" Michele almost yelled.

The stories about Sakata no Kintoki were known among thieves across the region; a handsome thief, talented, swift, and successful. He was very young, clearly foreign in heritage, and his true name was known to no one.

Sara blinked. "Why?"

He let out a short, nervous laugh. "Uh, I don't do backstory. A-anyway, let's get going. The payoff for the crown gets split three ways, but I'll be the one to go in and actually retrieve it. Just how we discussed."

The twins glanced at each other, then looked at him, and nodded.

Removing his glasses and placing them in his satchel, because Sakata no Kintoki never wore glasses, even if it did make his long distance vision a bit blurry, he ran forward and leapt onto the next roof. Once this prize was his, the priceless crown belonging to the lost prince Victor, he would be free. Once more he'd be Yuuri Katsuki, just an average twenty-year-old, and the idea of it made his heart beat so fast in exhilaration that he thought it may leap into his throat. He willed it to stop. This was the last time he could let his anxiety get to him. Easy now.

He had this in the bag.

Victor was startled to attention by sound of the key in his bedroom door then Lila entering the tower. He'd spaced out again staring out the window, but he did have the decency to be a little bit embarrassed. "Miss Lila," he said, turning around to greet her with a smile. "Good to see you this morning.

Lila gave him a small, but severe smile. Her hair was pulled up in a tight bun and she wore a crisp, tightly laced yellow dress that flared at the waist. "Victor, how are you this morning?"

He brushed his hair out of his face and shrugged. "Same as ever." He said it in a genial manner, but even Lila couldn't miss the edge of melancholy to it. She sighed, her lips thinning into a frown.

"Victor…"

"What?" And he could tell, just by her expression and the tone of her voice, that she had detected something that he had not meant to be clear in his response. He looked over to Makkachin, as if asking for help, but the dog merely stared at him blankly. Some help you are Makkachin.

"What's going on?"

He came over and sat down at the table next to his kitchen area and she joined him. "My birthday is coming up soon."

"Yes." Lila pulled a basket out from under her arms and placed on the table, pulling out some warm syrniki and offering them to Victor, who took them eagerly. "As with every year, if you give me a list, I'll try to get you whatever I can from it. I think you've worn out your last pair of ballet shoes so I'd already planned on picking you up a new pair of those."

Victor glanced over at the corner of his room, where his off-white ballet shoes lay wrapped up in their own ribbons. They did look tragically worn. "Thank you Miss Lila, but I actually had something else in mind as well."

Lila turned her head and placed a finger on her cheek. "What might that be?"

He straightened his posture and took a deep breath. "I'm going to be twenty-two years old."

"Indeed, that's how old I imagine you are," and Lila was already on guard, because Victor's voice was low and intense, and he rarely sounded this serious around her.

"I want to go outside for my birthday. I want to go and see the lights," he explained, and a small smile, not one of his normal beaming ones, crossed his lips. "I've always wanted to."

Lila's narrow eyes grew wide. "Victor… you can't."

"I know it's dangerous."

"You have no idea."

"I do!" he raised his voice. "I still have nightmares, Miss Lila." He clenched his eyes shut and let out a breathy shudder. "But… I want to go. Those lights appear every year on my birthday, and I can't help but feel like… they're meant for me."

"They're not meant for you, Victor," she snapped. Victor's eyes grew wide, and he slid the chair back, as if the table were a hot stove he'd just touched. "They're not meant for anyone like us."

"Even so…"

"You'll die." Lila covered up her basket and stood up, crossing over to where Victor was and placing a hand on his shoulder. Unthinkingly, she squeezed it, perhaps a bit tighter than she'd meant too. She was scared. "You'd die. You think you were obvious as a child, imagine what it would be like now? Your hair is…" She gestured up to the rafters, where the man's hair was still hanging over parts of them.

Victor's eyebrows narrowed and her reached up with one hand, removing Lila's hand from his shoulder. He was stronger than her now, he reminded himself. He was strong enough to protect himself if he went outside, right?

"Let's just do the spell," Victor mumbled.

Lila glanced down at her hand, alarmed by the strength Victor had just been displayed. But really, should she have been? Of course he was that strong. "We did it two days ago. We only do it once a week."

Victor placed his hands in front of him and smiled. "Whoops! Well just in case, you know I can be forgetful."

She smiled at him. "All right, if it makes you feel better."

"Great!" And Victor took Lila's hand, smile back in full force, although there was an edge of falseness to it, and Lila wasn't sure it was genuine. He wasn't back to normal.

Lila had no interest in living beyond her normal lifespan, but the fact that she was an older woman was something they could not ignore. Victor had voiced this fear one day in his preteens, and Lila had suggested that his hair could keep her alive. 'That way I'll never be alone? ' a young Victor had asked. And so it was decided. And Victor knew then that he could never cut his hair.

"Flower, gleam and glow," he sang, holding her hand as he did so, "let your power shine, make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine. Heal what has been hurt, change the fate's design. Change what has been lost, bring back what once was mine… what once was mine."

The glow of his hair ebbed and he exhaled, releasing his hold on Lila, who leaned down and gave him the lightest of kisses on the top of his head. "Take care Victor. I'll be back for lunch. Tell me what you want for your birthday then, and I promise I'll get it for you."

Victor gave her a small smile and a one armed hug. "Yes Miss Lila, I'll see you then."

She wasn't gone more than thirty seconds before he was back at the window.

Yuuri skidded down the hill, breathing heavily and ignoring the pain in his ankle as he hit a particularly large root at the bottom of the grassy knoll. He'd been running through the forest for what felt like hours, although he knew it had been far less, the Crispino twins trailing behind him. He was the faster of the two, and his stamina was he knew, something to be envied, so he could keep going for a lot longer, but he was worried about them. The satchel with the prince's crown smacked against his leg as he rounded a corner. If they hadn't been in a winding wood they would have long been caught, but the rough, often unpredictable terrain made it easier for the trio of humans to quickly navigate than the horse that chased them.

It didn't help that they could tell that both horse and rider were a little inexperienced. Good, certainly. Very good, actually. But…

"Sakata no Kintoki," he screamed again, and Yuuri chanced a quick glance behind him, at the soldier again. He was a spitfire of a boy, years younger than himself, with light blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and green eyes full of contempt. "If you don't let me arrest your sorry ass, I swear to fuck I will kill you."

"What about us?" Michele snapped.

"Shut up," Sara said. "If he's distracted enough with Kintoki, maybe we can get out of here." She didn't want to leave the poor guy out to dry, but if he was as good as his reputation stated, it's not as if he hadn't escaped far worse scrapes than this anyway.

"Lieutenant Plisetsky," Yuuri responded, leaping over a rock in the wood as he did so, "I'll make you a promise. If you let me go this time, I'll be out of your hair forever. I promise you'll never even see me again."

Plisetsky, as he'd been called, froze for a moment, as if the idea were tempting, but then shook his head. "N-no way. You're not getting away with the prince's crown, of all things."

"Geez, aren't you like twelve or something? What if we take you back to town and buy you some ice cream, will that clear things up?" Sara cracked, in spite of herself.

Yuuri let out a laugh as the lieutenant cursed loudly, his anger getting the best of him as he hit the large rock that had almost tripped up Yuuri a few moments earlier. It was… a disaster. His horse tripped, his reins tangled up twisting his arms up in them, and he tipped over sideways, his feet losing their grips in the stirrups, his short legs unable to gain purchase once more.

Sara, Michele, and Yuuri all looked at him, looked at each other, and ran.

Once they'd gotten a safe distance away, Yuuri sat them down in a small glade and clasped his hands together, pushing his hair back and biting his lip. "That was Yuri Plisetsky."

"That little twerp?" Michele snorted.

"He might be a twerp, but he's tenacious, and he's wanted to arrest me forever," he laughed, "well, he's only fifteen, so not forever, but… for a while, at least. He'll be after me from now on, as will a lot of soldiers. That crown was quite a treasure."

"All right, so let's meet up with the contractors and do the exchange quickly, then it will be taken care of," Sara said.

"No. I'll make the exchange with the contractors myself. I have to go back in town in a couple of days to do it, and if you both are seen with Sakata no Kintoki, they'll arrest you for sure. It won't just be Yuri Plisetsky, they'll have a full force out if they think I might be coming, so we should separate right now. It will be easy enough for me to escape if I'm just one person, but all three of us will be much more difficult," Yuuri explained. He held up his hands. "I have no interest in anything but my share. We can meet up again later, and I'll give you your part."

"Why should we expect honesty from a thief?"

Yuuri's smile was soft as he pulled a small piece of paper out of his pocket and scribbled something on it, handing it to Michele. "Meet up with me here next week and I won't be a thief any longer." He stood up and brushed off his pants, not even waiting for a response, and ran off.

Yuuri was as fast as the rumors said, and there was no way they could even try to catch up with him.

Those were definite hoofbeats, Yuuri surmised once he'd finished getting a drink from the stream that he'd found trickling in the wood. It was as clean a water as he was going to find, and he was thirsty from all the running, so it would do. But… the cleanliness of the water was the least of his problems now. He groaned to himself. Maybe it wasn't Plisetsky. He doubted the young lieutenant would have been able to find him already, but perhaps he'd been lucky? Either way, he picked up his satchel and ran the opposite direction of the sound.

A small cave; he ran through it, seeing sunlight on the other side, and oh, this must have been where the stream generated. It led into an open meadow and ah…

What an odd place to have a tower.

He smiled to himself. Well, it's not as if a horse could get to him up there.

Which was grand, because the sound of the hoofbeats was getting closer, and he could swear he heard loud cursing. It was Plisetsky, wasn't it?

Yuuri huffed and gritted his teeth, quickly surveying the wall of stone in front of him and trying to figure out the best way to approach it. Spotting a few wider gaps in the gray stones that made up its construction, he plotted a path in his head and leapt up to the first handhold he needed, trying his best to ignore the approaching sound of what he assumed was Yuri's horse.

He made quick work of the tower. He was known for his speed, and he had been for years. He was, after all, not a large man, so he'd learned to make up for his lack of size with speed, stamina, and a surprising amount of physical strength for his size. Sakata no Kintoki was an ideal thief; kind and unassuming looking to anyone who met him, and that was good, that was what Yuuri needed. It made his job easier. He shifted his knapsack, took a deep breath, and heaved himself over the windowsill of the tower.

And it was perfect, because upon his great white horse, Yuri Plisetsky was just about to enter the meadow.

Yuuri's eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. The interior of the tower was large and homey; clearly occupied. The walls were covered in paintings; oil if he was correct, judging by the thick strokes and deep colors, and they depicted scenes all featuring the same person, a long silver haired man. There was a large bed in the room, a huge, warm looking kitchen with copper pots and pans strewn about, and on the side of the room, a wall of mirrors and, he recognized from his own childhood, a barre. A large section of the room had a polished wood floor. A dancer lived here? He glanced upward, and his breath caught. Sunlight streamed into the rafters, and strung upon them, gleaming in silver was… hair? Dozens and dozens of feet of hair, and he was about to speak up, about to say something when…

Smack.

Yuuri found himself knocked quite unceremoniously unconscious.

Victor's breaths came in short, shallow gasps as he held the frying pan over his head, staring down at the unconscious man below him as if he might attack at any moment. His blue eyes were wide and his lips were pressed together. Makkachin stood next to him, stiff and alert.

"There's a man in the tower Makkachin. There's… a man in the tower." Steeling himself, Victor leaned down next to him and placed his hand on his neck, relieved to feel a pulse. "Oh thank god. I didn't kill him."

He carefully turned him over, surveying his appearance, and Victor placed a hand over his mouth and made a small squeak of surprise once he'd had a chance to really take it in. The man, for he had no idea of his name, had soft, lovely features, and from the quick look he'd gotten of his face before he'd smacked him with a frying pan Victor thought his eyes were brown, but he couldn't be sure. His dark hair was pushed out of his face, but Victor found himself, against his better judgment, running his hands through it. It was stiff from some kind of product he'd put in it, which annoyed him, because he thought it must have been very silky on its own. He found his cheeks growing pink as he continued to stare at the man, watching his steady breathing and wondering why his own heartbeat seemed to speed up a bit as he did so.

Victor really thought there was no use denying it, this mysterious man, whoever he was, was beautiful.

"Looking like that, I wonder if he's a prince Makkachin?" Victor asked. "Do you think he is?" He looked aghast and his eyes grew large. "I just attacked him though... I could get in big trouble."

He glanced down at his clothing, a blue leather doublet clasped shut over a white shirt with baggy sleeves, and his eyes wandered to the leather knapsack. The leather knapsack had popped open, assumedly due to the impact of hitting the floor, and Victor nearly passed out himself when he saw what was sticking out of it.

A crown. He'd seen those in books plenty of times. He gently took it out of the bag and held it delicately in his hands. It was beautiful; silver with diamonds in the center, pearls that reminded him of the moon, and blue gems like stardust from a falling star. Victor shook his head and slapped his cheeks, as if making sure he was awake. "Makkachin do you realize what this means?" He pulled his dog to his side and glanced to the sleeping man, then back to his dog frantically. "This must be his. He really is a prince! Oh my god. Makkachin… what am I going to do?"

The thing about YOI is that it's quite difficult to make anyone in the cast truly an antagonist, so I've restructured some aspects of the story to try and make this work while still trying to keep it very much Tangled. You might have questions after reading this chapter, but hopefully they'll all be answered as the story continues. Thank you for reading!