Chapter 11
Rapunzel wakes with an excruciating headache.
As she flickers open her eyes, she doesn't recognize the room she is in. In fact, she doesn't remember anything at all. Her mind is entirely blank as she examines the wooden walls and the shelves lining them from floor to ceiling.
Through her blurry vision, she notices there are no windows, and no sunlight - only fire-lit glass lanterns flickering and illuminating the small space.
The floor is made of stone. There is old furniture against the walls, a high table in the center of the room cluttered with vials, contraptions, and other trinkets she doesn't know anything about.
There's a steep staircase on the far side of the room, leading up to a pair of doors, slanted into the ceiling. It's dark, and entirely silent.
The bed she lays on is comfortable, the blanket weighing her down though she still feels like shivering. Her head and her eyes feel heavy, her body rigid and not wanting to move.
She wants to drift back into sleep so badly that she almost doesn't notice the person sitting on the chair next to her, as if he'd been waiting for her to wake up.
His nose had been in a book, his one leg crossed over the other with his chin in his hand as he stares at the pages in deep, concentrated thought. However, he shuts the book quickly once he notices her gaining consciousness.
He has deep red hair and dark eyes. He wears a white tunic and black jacket, with trousers and buckled boots.
As Rapunzel only stares at him with half-lidded eyes, he leans forward in his chair eagerly when he notices her, watching her too – almost too intensely.
"Who are you?" Rapunzel's voice is hoarse, as if it hasn't been used in days. She swallows, her throat dry. It takes all the energy in her just to muster the words. "Where am I?"
For the briefest moment, he continues to observe her, expecting her to say or do something else.
When he realizes that she isn't going to, he leans even further toward her, speaking softly, "Shh… you're okay." He grabs her limp fingers that had been resting on the edge of the mattress, hoping she won't push him away like she had done before.
But Rapunzel doesn't recoil at all, instead letting him touch her hand, partially because she feels too weak to do anything else.
"You've had a concussion," he explains.
"What?" Rapunzel mumbles.
He hadn't been sure how much of the potion he needed to inject in her, or whether it would even work. It had merely been a backup plan, if she disagreed to drink more tea. She'd proven to be more of a fighter than he'd imagined, so he had no choice but to find another way to get it into her system.
He'd been afraid someone had heard her screaming in the woods, especially with Flynn Rider no doubt searching for her.
Thankfully, it doesn't seem like anyone had. Now, no one will be able to find her down here.
"You were riding, and you fell and hit your head. But you're okay now. I saved you," he tells her.
Rapunzel only stares blankly up at him, confused and barely awake.
"You don't remember me but… my name is Donovan. We were meant to be married before… you fell."
Her eyebrows twitch over her eyes at that. It's the biggest reaction he has gotten out of her so far, despite its subtlety. Then her expression falls sadly, and all she can find herself saying is, "Oh."
So many questions are racing through her head, yet Rapunzel can't muster the energy to ask any of them. She just feels so exhausted that her mind is entirely blank at the same time, and all she can do is lay there and listen to him, finding no choice but to believe what he's telling her.
Donovan releases her hand to scramble for something on the dresser next to the bed. He holds up a sheet of parchment that is torn at the edges, testing her. "Do you recognize this man?"
Rapunzel observes the drawing of someone she has never seen before. The words read 'WANTED Dead or Alive: Flynn Rider, Thief.'
"No…" she answers after a while, confused why he is asking her this. She studies the picture again, thinking to herself that he doesn't look like a thief. Whoever he is, there must be a reason someone would want him dead, and that makes her uneasy. "Who is he?"
So, the injection had really worked. Rapunzel doesn't remember what happened with the horse at all, or the fact that she had begun to remember Flynn. She's back to where she started, before her memories had started to come back to her. He just hopes they won't come back again.
"Flynn Rider is a dangerous criminal," reveals Donovan. "He will say anything he can to get you to trust him. You must not trust him, no matter what he tells you."
Rapunzel had gotten away from Donovan once. He should have known someone would find her, then break her out of the cabin. Either that, or she'd broken through the window herself. Somehow, he knows Flynn had been the one to find her.
He won't be making the mistake of underestimating them both again.
"What does he want with me?" Rapunzel asks, suddenly fearful. Something must have happened before her concussion that would make Donovan feel the need to warn her about this criminal.
"He wants to hurt you. But I won't let that happen." His hand reaches down to stroke her hair, brushing a stray strand away from her eyes. "Not while I'm here to protect you."
"Why?" Rapunzel asks desperately, wondering why on earth someone would want to do that. Who is she to him?
"It doesn't matter," he shakes his head, his voice just above a whisper. "I'm going to take you home. Far away from here… where no one can ever bring harm to you again. And then we can be married… just like we planned."
Maybe it's because of the pounding in her head, or the soothing feeling of his hand stroking her hair, but Rapunzel finds herself slowly drifting back into sleep as he speaks, the words merely echoing through her clouded mind.
"You have nothing to worry about, my dear. Just rest for now."
Once he is certain that she has drifted back into sleep, Donovan climbs the steep, wooden staircase leading to the cellar doors. With both palms pressed against them, he pushes them open above his head, the hinges creaking loudly.
He climbs out into the forest, the blades of grass against his palms still wet from the rainfall earlier. Fresh air suddenly envelopes him as he pulls himself to his feet.
The sky is a murky gray, and it's significantly colder outside than down there. The leaves of the forest's trees are rustling loudly in the heavy wind that only seems to be picking up by the minute.
The wooden cabin can be seen in the distance, a plume of smoke emitting from the stone chimney and soaring into the gloomy sky.
Donovan locks the cellar doors behind him, the hatch in the ground hidden within the tall grass.
