A/N Happy Reading! Tangled belongs to Disney.
Rapunzel
She urged her horse forward.
"Faster, faster, faster than you've ever gone before, A J! I know you can do it! Just a little faster girl."
She was flying, defying gravity, gliding faster than she ever had before, across the forest. With a laugh, she freed her hair from its tight braid, letting it flow behind her in a seventy foot stream. It was to tease her pursuers, mainly. She could hear them shouting in frustration, trying to slice it off with their swords. But she was too quick. They would never see their stolen jewels again. They would never catch her, Blondie, the legendary gypsy thief, and most wanted criminal in Corona. They would never bring her down. Today was her seventeenth birthday. Good things were going to happen today. She was sure of it.
Once she knew the guards were off her tail, she dismounted, bundled up her hair, and made her way to a steam. Apricot Jam bent her head to drink, and Rapunzel opened her satchel to examine her prize. A silver, ruby encrusted necklace, a gold ring and a precious bag of cinnamon. They would fetch a fortune on the black market, the cinnamon especially. Where it came from was a closely guarded secret, it was only eaten by royalty. She stroked the mare's soft coat and gazed at the castle in the distance. It was beautiful, every brick crafted from the finest quartz, every window stained glass, depicting beautiful portraits of the royal family. What would it be like to live in a place like that, instead of living nowhere, travelling on horseback across the wide barren lands of Southside, trading, thieving, deceiving, sleeping on the side of the road, living off the food she stole. She had left the little gypsy caravan long ago, when her brothers were strong enough to take care of themselves, and her mother had recovered from Patch's death. With a sentimental sigh, she fetched a pad of notepaper and a stick of charcoal from her satchel and began to sketch out the beauty of the distant kingdom. But then she heard something that made her eyes widen.
Eugene
Mother Gothel had been gone for weeks. She had gone after someone, she said, someone who had knowledge of what she was seeking. What she was seeking, Eugene didn't know. He was eighteen today. No acknowledgement had been made. In a way, not having Gothel here was a gift itself. Not having to endure her criticisms, her violence, and her wrinkled face. He sat in the windowsill, eyes closed, with Maximus, who had turned the exact chestnut of Eugene's hair, napping on his head. Without thinking, he began to sing:
Bright lights
Almost starlight
Shining a million miles away
Drifting like there's no yesterday
Bright lights
Never fading
Distant golden flowers in the sky
Soaring to endless, endless heights
Lanterns
Cast your patterns
Upon the distant deepest lake
Reflections trailing in your wake
Bright lights
Leaving me here
Alone
It was a song Eugene had written when he was ten. He didn't think it was that good really. It was just junk about the floating lights on his birthday. So he was very surprised to hear clapping. A green-eyed girl, around eighteen or so, wearing trousers (!) and a rather pretty embroidered tunic was sitting on an orangey horse, applauding. But what shocked him about this girl was her hair. It trailed behind her in a long golden snake, at least fifty feet long.
Rapunzel
It was a boy's voice, deep, clear and sweet. Singing a song. She slowly mounted A J and they trotted towards it. There, in the window of the tallest tower she had ever seen, was a boy, around her age, singing sweetly, his eyes closed, with what appeared to be a chameleon on his head. It was a bizarre, yet peaceful sight, and Rapunzel simply sat and listened. She was going mad. How had she not seen this tower before? She knew every nook and cranny of Southside. And why wasn't she running away? This could be a trap. The boy could have jewels worth stealing. She could kidnap him. But nope, she just sat there like a pile of dung. And furthermore, when he was finished, she clapped. He looked down, obviously startled. He was wearing threadbare dungarees over a dirty brown shirt and he had a mop of brown hair, and hazelnut eyes. His arms were bruised, and he had a scar on his cheek.
"Who are you?" they both said at exactly the same time.
A/N THEY MET THEY MET! :D This is when the fun starts! Did you like the song I wrote? I wish I could put the tune into words. Review if you liked it! Review if you didn't! Add it to your favourite stories if you think it was worthy! Follow it if you want to read more! I'm in a really good mood today folks. I got the day off school. Oh, and did anyone catch the quick Wicked references I made? Love that musical.