Short bursts of thought that I incorporated throughout the movie. I don't remember the details very clearly, but work with me here. ;]
Edit 3/16/11: To the anon who reminded me that Pascal was a chameleon, not a frog. Yes, I know that, but Flynn doesn't, remember? That scene near the beginning when Flynn points out how heartbroken Mother Gothel will be to see that Rapunzel has left, and offers to take her back to the tower. He's like, "Your pan; your frog." Brainwaves starting to hit?
It's when she pulls his chair closer and it tips forward, the top of it catching against her palm. Her frog is on her shoulder and her frying pan in her other hand, her green eyes bright as they bore into his. In that one moment, that split second of time, he grasps just how powerless he is. He's wrapped up in her hair, for God's sake.
Earlier, when she stepped out into the light, his jaw had gone slack. Despite the frying pan, she had been lovely. But he took her to be one of those girls he could win over with a charming smile and a few pretty words. When he woke up for the second time with a knot on his head and a starting headache, he realized just how stupid that had been.
Now he sits there wondering if this girl will keep her word. Sure, she's promising, but he's been on the receiving end of too many broken promises to count. But the way she's saying it, the way her eyes widen... it leads him to believe that she's really a girl of her word. He knows right then that she's too innocent to know about trickery - to know about anything other than purity.
Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to trust this girl, after all.
But he has to try the smolder. He has to try it.
The tunnel is dry and cold, gusts of air blowing her hair back slightly. She feels the euphoria of a successful obstacle navigated rushing through her veins, proving her mother wrong, wrong, wrong. She feels daring, thinking rebellious thoughts like these. She's never seen her mother as anything but right, wise, her protector against this cruel world. But she's seen that there's goodness in this world, even in the hardened shells of these criminals and thugs. And she's also seen that she can get out of tight spots, that she can take care of herself.
The thudding of feet and yells of angry soldiers snaps her out of her ecstatic thoughts. Whipping around, she calls Flynn's name worriedly. He turns around as well, expression turning into one of shock. Then, just as she's about to freeze in fear, he puts a warm arm around her and tells her to run.
It's the first time they've touched.
He knows he's going to die.
It's a strange feeling - he's used to slipping away and escaping with the treasure. If he's in danger, he at least has a chance of escape. Here, though, death is inevitable. The steady rise of water guarantees death by drowning. All because of that stupid, stupid horse.
He dives down and scrabbles at the rocks below, unable to keep himself from searching for an escape. Old habits die hard, he thinks dryly.
Rapunzel copies him after he gives up, plunging head-first into the dark water. A shot of alarm runs down his spine and he drags her up, gripping her shoulders tightly. He tells her it's too dark, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Then, as he dimly sees the defeat sink into her face, he drops his arms. To his horror, she starts to cry. He's really bad with crying girls - he's either the instigator or... uh, the instigator. But something about her - probably the hopelessness that has overtaken her usually-optimistic face - urges him to try.
So he does the only thing that occurs to him. He tells her his secret.
And in return, she saves their lives with her own untold truth.
Wrapping her hair around his cut, she gives him a cautious look before singing the well-worn song. She focuses only on her glowing golden hair, preferring that sight to his face. She doesn't want to see the expressions that were probably flitting across his face - shock, uneasiness, maybe even revulsion? She doesn't think she could take it if he calls her a freak and takes off. She'd be lost in the middle of this forest, with no one but Pascal to guide her and nothing but her frying pan to defend herself. When the last word escaps her lips, she reluctantly looks up.
The inevitable freak out and the attempt to hold it in follows, but to her relief he doesn't run away. And so, maybe to get rid of tension or because she's genuinely curious, she asks about Eugene Fitzherbert.
She feels a connection spring up, something deeper than what she's used to. But then it's broken, and she doesn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. As he walks off to find firewood, however, she finds that she misses that feeling, although it was only for a moment.
And it's because of that connection that she loses courage when he reappears, and hides the satchel where he won't find it.
When the little girls are done braiding Rapunzel's hair, he realizes just how beautiful she really is.
Then of course, Maximus has to butt his head in and raise his eyebrows to let him know exactly what his stupid horse brain is registering.
He pushes him away, unable to keep a small grin from unfurling across his face.
She really thought they'd make it.
The boat was... magical. He'd pushed away the satchel and taken her instead, coming so close to actually kissing her -
But she should've known it was a joke, a trick, a well-played act. He knew that he was going to get the satchel in the end; why not mess with the girl whose heart you stole in the process?
Then again, she shouldn't be surprised.
If there's one thing she's learned, it's that he has a habit of losing things he's stolen.
The pain is like ice and fire, twisting together to create something monstrous, unnatural, unbearable. But she's begging to heal him, bartering her freedom, and he knows that when she makes a promise, she never breaks it. Ever.
She scrambles to his side, hands cold and gentle on his face and chest as she flutters over him. His vocal chords are being strangely uncooperative as black spots start to crop up in his field of vision, dancing across her face and obscuring the lovely view. Even with tears in her eyes, she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
And she'll be locked away forevermore while he roams the world alone.
The shard of glass rips at his skin as he drags it across her hair, willing her to run as fast as she can without looking back. But she stays kneeling, a gasp of surprise escaping her lips as that evil witch of a woman tumbles to her death at the base of the tower.
It's ironic, he thinks. Only two days ago, he'd been sure he was going to die. Now, he knows with a somehow comforting certainty that this really is the end.
And like last time, he whispers a secret before the black overwhelms him, forcing him to forget everything but her face.
She can't cry.
There's a hard lump in her throat and she can't swallow it, can't do anything but sing past it and hope to God that something will happen. But Eugene is limp in her arms and the world is cold, cold and dark and cruel.
Mother Gothel had always told her that the world was a bad place. This is the first time she's fully grasped that fact.
She wants to kiss him, but this isn't a fairytale. No kiss will revive the dead, and no amount of longing will change what has come to pass. She wishes she could die too.
A tear falls.
And she's blinded by the burst of light that pours forth from Eugene's body.
There's music and dancing and drinking and laughing and crying and hugging and bonding. When he looks back, he can't remember much. Only blurs of light, happiness, and a shock of brown hair.
That's okay, though. It's the face that the hair frames that he's in love with, and the soul that the face is hiding.
Besides, hasn't he told her? He's always had a thing for brunettes.
I had to leave it on a happy note. After the angst-fest last chapter, I just kind of had to.
I have another idea, but I'm not sure when I'll get it down. Don't expect frequent updates, guys.
Review?
