So it has been two years since I last updated this story. I recently watched Tangled again, which inspired me to write for this story. This story is a Gravity Falls version of the Disney movie Tangled. A lot from that movie will be present here, however, there is also a lot that will be changed to better fit the characters, the location, and the plot of the story. While there are many similarities, there will also be just as many differences.
Thank you Alloshonen and mdizzle for your reviews on chapter one.
The song included in this chapter is "When Will My Life Begin?" from Tangled, although the lyrics have been slightly altered to fit the changes in the story.
Years passed, and the whereabouts of Princess Pacifica which had begun as concern and gossip grew into more of a folklore. People created their own versions of what must have happened to the one so young and fair, who had barely begun to live. Some claim she was kidnapped by a rival kingdom, and others believed she went mad which forced the queen to lock her away for her own safety. Some even wondered if she had died, and the royals to stricken with grief, chose not to speak about it.
The most popular of all the theories surrounded the old woman who had hobbled towards Pacifica on the last day she had been seen in public. The queen became anxious when the withered woman touched the princess. Had she perhaps heard what the old lady had spoken to the princess, had it been a threat? There must have been a reason the queen acted so rashly and forced the guards to arrest her. The following day Pacifica vanished, leading the town to believe the old woman had escaped and done something to the princess-some theories proposing murder.
However there was no proof as to what happened to Pacifica. Only a total of five people in the entire kingdom knew the truth: the king and queen, two servants, and Pacifica herself. Preston and Priscilla were aware of the rumors and Priscilla welcomed the commoner's folktales for the fact that it secured the truth from their knowledge.
The queen sat in her bedroom admiring her face in the large, silver, oval mirror that sat over her marble vanity. Her hair down, still an auburn hue, although not nearly as silky and bright as it once been. The queen scowled at her reflection. She traced her skin looking for the sight of any wrinkle or blemish, relieved to have found none. However, the lines around her mouth needed to be tightened. Most certainly she'd visit Pacifica in the morning.
The following morning Pacifica stood at the arched window, gazing over the kingdom she had been told from birth would one day be hers. She recalled the days she accompanied her father in venturing into the kingdom. Their subjects reveled at her beauty and grace, often presented her with flowers and small treats. As she rode in the carriage young Pacifica indulged in the delectable candies made specifically for her.
Now the girl just shy of eighteen stared out the window, still dressed in her bedclothes, awaiting the servant assigned to walk Hamilton, the family dog. Pacifica yearned for another opportunity to pet the animal who had been her companion during her early childhood. Hamilton had grown old and she knew the average lifespan of a dog. A part of her wished to rebel, use her hair to lower herself to the ground and dash through the grass with her canine friend one last time. However, she knew the consequences were too great.
Blue eyes lifted their gaze to meet the silhouette of the chateau on the other side of town. It was a luxurious home she and her parents used to visit when they spent a weekend to a week among the citizens of Gravity Falls. The house was guarded by a grand gate, which allowed them privacy after their affairs with the commoners. Each year on her birthday her family hosted a ball to commemorate the anniversary of the lost princess. Nobility from their kingdom along with neighboring ones attended the soiree. Once a few commoners successfully snuck in, but were promptly ordered to the dungeon when found.
Every year on her birthday Pacifica yearned for the chance to attend the ball held in her honor. She wanted to present herself in a fine gown and dance with the most eligible of bachelors, hoping one would fall madly in love and rescue her from the life of solitude that currently imprisoned her. It was a pleasant dream which granted her rest.
The whistling caught Pacifica's attention. She jumped up, with her hands against the base of the window and poked her head out. The servant whistled a merry tune, holding tight to the leash while Hamilton led the way. The Labrador wagged his tail as he walked, his tongue out, and mouth curved up basking in the morning sun.
The servant stopped in front of the tower as had been the instructed routine for the past five years. He looked up at the girl and gave her a courteous wave, which the princess returned. Hamilton sniffed at the grass for a moment, then approached the bowl of water left for him each morning. Pacifica stared, her heart bursting and her fingers itched to the dog's soft fur, and feel his warm breath against her neck again, followed by him nuzzling his nose against her ear. The memories replayed as she watched her beloved pet down below, tormented by what was right before her she could no longer enjoy.
Hamilton finished his drink then walked on ahead. The servant adjusted his hold on the leash then continued his tune as they walked out of Pacifica's sight.
Pacifica sunk back into the tower. It had been her home for five years, the walls where she had memorized every stone. Although spacious, and filled with many activities to keep her busy throughout her day, her heart longed for something more.
The clock tower to the left of the castle reminded Pacifica of the servant's words that morning when she arrived with breakfast: the queen would arrive at noon. That gave her three hours to prepare.
Pacifica took off to the bed where she tidied up the sheets and pillows. She swiftly swept the floor, washed her breakfast dishes then left them in the drainer to dry, and dusted a few knickknacks, which required a second sweeping. The servant reminded her there was no need for her to clean, but Pacifica insisted as it gave her something to do for twenty to thirty minutes each morning. Out of pity the servant complied and left via Pacifica's hair once the meal was presented.
After the room looked presentable Pacifica poured a pitcher of water into the basin and lit the candle underneath to warm it up. She opened the closet which contained an array of dresses made of the finest fabric that she herself had sewn. The hobby thrilled Priscilla as it alleviated her from having to explain ordering clothing in her daughter's size. A quick glimpse at the sewing machine in the corner along with the half finished burgundy dress reminded Pacifica that she should finish the project by sundown.
The princess eyed all the garments and eventually selected a lavender dress with a low, swooping neckline. The sleeves were slim to the elbow where they then flared into a bell shape. A layer of light pink lace lined the hem of the sleeves. The back of the bodice contained lacing to adjust the size. With a nod Pacifica threw the gown over her bed.
Before she shut the door Pacifica glanced behind her to make sure her mother hadn't somehow ascended the tower without the use of her hair. With a huge smile Pacifica pushed the myriad of dresses aside to see the special project she had hidden for nearly a year, one she started a week after her last birthday. With the aid of candlelight Pacifica had worked on that gown hours after her mother and the servants had retired to bed. Around the third or fourth hour after midnight Pacifica ceased work and carefully hid the dress in the back of the closet, hidden by the numerous other ones inside.
When her mother arrived in a few hours she'd ask permission to attend her own birthday party. When her birthday request was granted she'd show up wearing her masterpiece. However, if her mother declined, as she had done each year prior, she planned to show up to the chateau sporting the garment her family or servants had never seen. Masked, and her hair styled to hide its length, no one there would recognize her.
Promptly she shut the door then gathered soap and a wash cloth. Pacifica stripped of the nightgown then dipped the cloth into the now warm water. She washed her face, arms, and body. Two nights ago the female servant had been tasked with washing Pacifica's hair, and her mane wasn't scheduled for another wash for another two days. Pacifica dried off with another towel, then with the aid of her full-length mirror she dressed into the lavender gown. She turned her back to the mirror and reached her arms around, using the reflective glass to tie the lacing in the back. She faced the mirror and turned in both directions, pleased at her slim silhouette. The only task left for her morning routine was to brush the mile of blonde tresses.
For an hour Pacifica sat in the plush chair, holding her hair with one hand, and brushing with the other. She started from the bottom and worked her way up at the top, switching arms every few minutes. She learned a long time ago that singing helped the time go faster, or at least made the menial task required everyday not so dull.
As she brushed Pacifica made up a song about her daily routine, all the various activities she completed, and in turn all the skills she acquired in her five years of solitude. At the end of each verse she questioned when all this monotony would cease and she'd actually start living her life.
Closing on the end of the hour she finally reached the hair closest to her head. She brushed the golden strands, her arms straining from the daily, continuous workout. Finally done she brushed forward the bangs and leaned back in the chair, her arms and back aching and in need of a massage. Perhaps she'd request one from her mother or the servant when either of them arrived.
Pacifica dropped the silver brush on the stone floor and sand out the chorus loud and with a clear vibrato, "When will my life begin?"
Her gaze fell on the baby grand piano in the back of the room with a crate of her favorite sheet music on the floor by the stool, along with classics and those her mother insisted she learn. Pacifica forced herself up, ignoring the sting in her upper body, a pain she had become accustomed to over half a decade.
When the queen arrived she'd request Pacifica play as she usually did. Pacifica sat down at the piano and pulled out a minuet she had practiced throughout the week after her mother complained she played too choppy. Her finger movements had become smoother, and she felt the notes as she caressed the keys.
Pacifica slid the sheet music into place and set her hands atop the keys. She sat quietly for a moment, not moving. At last she shut the keyboard cover.
The princess stood and made her way back to the window. Her eyes fell on a recent canvas, still drying from yesterday's brush strokes. The faceless figures at the ball held hands and danced in the most lavish outfits. Though they contained no faces, anyone who looked could feel the glee from the figures.
Pacifica folded her hands at the window. The melody from the song she created earlier still danced around in her throat. She took a deep breath and sang:
Tomorrow night, the ball will commence
Each year on my birthday, they gaily dance.
Pacifica stepped away from the window and moved closer to her painting. The woman wearing a purple gown with wavy blonde hair held hands with a tall stranger in opposing darker blue clothing and brown hair. The yellow and white lights reflected on the featureless faces.
What is it like?
How I long to know.
Pacifica stepped in front of the full-length mirror to see the girl only one day from becoming a legal woman.
Now that I'm older...
Pacifica folded her hands in front of her heart.
Mother might let me go.
As she finished singing she heard a rustling in the grass and bushes beneath the tower. Soon after came the familiar voice and call.
"Pacifica, let down your hair!"
Her mother had arrived.