Rapunzel eeped in surprise as Belle grabbed her hand, pulling her under the table. She had heard the door to the pub being opened with such force that it could have been a great animal, before catching a glimpse of a man in red entering. The entire pub turned their attention to him, the same way they had done to Rapunzel and Belle when they entered.

Rapunzel felt her cheeks heat up as she felt Belle's body so close to hers. She had always kept a careful distance from her before, not wanting to be too close to someone from the outside world. She wasn't sure if Belle noticed. She seemed panicked right now, fiddling with a lock of her brown hair with both hands the way Rapunzel often did with her own hair.

She wanted to ask what was wrong, but decided not to. Belle seemed to want to hide from the others. She heard the pubs questioning the man, and the man explaining he was looking for a girl—well, two girls, he quickly amended.

Rapunzel felt her heartbeat quicken. She had never seen that man before in her life. She had never seen any men before in her life, aside from the pub men she had just met. Maybe he knew Belle, but was he after her? Maybe he meant a different girl.

Belle probably knew him, judging from the way she paled and tensed when he mentioned a girl. Was he her father?

No. She had immediately hid from this man when he entered, and she was trying to look for her father. If he had come in, she probably would've been ecstatic to find him.

"First and foremost, I have to find my wife," the man said in reply to the questions the other men assaulted him with.

So Belle was married? Rapunzel looked at her, and she seemed less frightened now and more annoyed, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, she's a beautiful thing. Gorgeous as a young buck in spring. Any of you would be jealous if you saw her. The most lovely brown hair, doe eyes, fair complexion..."

He went on and on, not missing any part of her beauty. Rapunzel looked at Belle again, and she seemed even more annoyed, crossing her arms with exasperation. Then she looked frightened, probably realising the men would recognise that description.

"Hey." Rapunzel jumped as a man—Big Nose—spoke lowly to Belle. "You want a way outta here?"

"Yes, please! I know that man, and..." Belle winced. "Can you help us?"

"Here." With a strong pull by his hefty arm, he lifted a lever from one of the three sticking up in front of them, the one with the duckling figure, exposing a hidden area leading downwards. "Quick, before he sees."

"Thank you, sir!" Without hesitation, Belle crawled out from the table and down the passage, crouching low as if afraid someone would see her. She paused for a moment and turned to Rapunzel, looking at her imploringly.

"Uh..." Rapunzel didn't know whether she should go down this passage. She had no idea where it led, and she still didn't know why Belle wanted to escape from that man.

Belle continued to look at Rapunzel, a pleading, desperate look in her eyes. Confused, Rapunzel hesitantly retreated from under the table and followed her. Looking relief, Belle turned and continued down.

"Hey." Rapunzel paused at Big Nose's voice. She turned to him, seeing his earnest expression. "Go live your dream."

"Thank you." He was rather sweet, once you got past his threatening demeanor. "You too."

"What was that all about?" Rapunzel voiced her thoughts once they were both wandering through the dark passage. It looked as if they were surrounded by rocks of some kind.

Belle sighed, brushing a strand of hair off her face. "You see, that man... well, I don't exactly like him. His name is Gaston."

"Why don't you like him?"

"You see..." She paused, fiddling with her hair again. "He was very popular in my village. He was considered the most handsome man in town, and the bravest, and the strongest. And he considered himself to be, too. He never let me—or anyone, for that matter—forget how great he was."

"That does sound annoying." Rapunzel wondered why he would call Belle his wife when it was clear she didn't like him.

"Tell me about it." Belle groaned. "And not only that, but he considered me the most beautiful woman the village. He wanted me to marry him." She paused, seeming angry.

"Did you?" Rapunzel almost regretted the question when Belle's eyes flashed with sudden anger and she curled her hands into fists.

"No! I said no." Rapunzel almost cowered at how angry she seemed. "You know, he actually set up the wedding before asking me. He had cake and flowers and everything. As if he thought there was no possible chance I would say no to him. Can you believe that?"

Rapunzel didn't answer, almost frightened. She hadn't expected Belle to explode like that. She noticed that Pascal on her shoulder seemed afraid as well, his little hands over his eyes.

"Well, I did say no." She seemed to calm down a little, unclenching her hands. "He could've chosen any girl in the village. Any girl who'd happily go along with being his perfect little wife, and rubbing his feet, and bearing his sons, like he expected me to." She flared up again. "And then he still has the nerve to call me his wife? After I said no?"

"Um..." Rapunzel's voice seemed to distract Belle from her anger.

"Sorry." She looked guilty for flaring up like that. "I shouldn't get so angry. I just can't help it. Every time I think about him... he just makes me so... so..." She took a deep breath.

She seemed to notice Pascal, who was now trying to blend in with Rapunzel's dress. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare your chameleon."

"Oh... he gets scared a lot. Don't you, Pascal?" She reached a hand up and gently petted his back. He relaxed at her touch, turning green again.

They continued walking in silence for a while. Belle looked embarrassed by her outburst.

"You know, that was quite impressive." Belle spoke up. "What you did with those pub men."

"Huh? Oh, thanks, I guess..." Rapunzel supposed it was. She had never interacted with men before, but they didn't seem that bad, once you looked past their menacing aura.

"I mean it. I was so scared by them when I saw them, but you talked to them for a little while and they all loved you." Belle sighed, pushing another strand of hair out of her face. "I wish I could do that."

Did they love her? Rapunzel didn't think so. Love was something intense and personal. That was what her mother always told her. You couldn't love someone just by spending a few minutes with them and singing a song with them. And no one from the outside world could love someone as flawed as her. Only her mother could do that.

Eventually, their path gave away to a wide chasm with a cliff on the other end. Turning around, Rapunzel saw that they had emerged from a cave.

Walking to the edge of the cliff they were standing on, Rapunzel looked down—and her stomach jolted. The ground looked so far away, showing how high up they were. She immediately stepped away, not wanting to fall.

Belle walked to the edge herself and peered down. For a moment, she remained silent, not moving.

"Belle?" Rapunzel spoke up when she didn't say anything. She wondered where they would go from here.

"Beautiful view, isn't it?" She sounded mesmerised.

"I guess." Rapunzel hadn't taken a good look, too afraid of how high up she was. "But where should we go?"

Belle finally stepped away, a frown crossing her face as she turned around. "I don't know... wait." She turned around and walked toward the edge again. "There's a ladder here."

Rapunzel's stomach dropped as Belle leaned down, sitting on her knees on the very edge of the cliff. "Should we climb down?"

"Uh..." Rapunzel walked a little closer, just enough to see the bottom. Her heart jolted again. The rocky ground didn't seem at all beautiful to her. Then again, maybe that was because she was just scared by how high up they were.

"I don't think so," she said. "It'd just send us down to who knows where."

"Yes, you're right. It's probably too risky, anyway." Belle stood up, looking at the other cliff on the opposite end of the gap. "If only we could get there..."

An idea came to Rapunzel's head. It was a wild, crazy one, and the very thought made her stomach plummet. She had used her hair as several things while up in her tower—a rope, a lasso, a ladder, and, when she was younger, an easel (that had been an absolute disaster)—but that had been in her tower, where it always lay spread out everywhere, but confined in her room.

She gripped her hair, the way she always did when she was nervous or unsure. It was a source of comfort and security for her. And now, it was about to be a source of help...