The ball! I was so eager to write this chapter. And I did something a little different. I loved Frozen, so Elsa, Anna and Hans make a cameo in this chapter. There are mild spoilers. If you'd like to skip them, I've marked where they start and end with *.

Tangled isn't mine. Property of Disney. I hope you enjoy!

In a tower, a queen paced. Her hair, once long enough to brush the floor, was matted around her shoulders. In a chair, her husband sat calmly, speaking soothingly. The woman didn't seem to hear his words.

"Primrose, please…"

"They've come. She'll come for me. Both of them, both. I'm going to die. I'm going to die."

"You're ill. Please, stop. Tonight will be perfect. You have nothing to worry about. Please, listen to me, my darling."

"I can't go on. They'll kill me. Have to… have to run…"

"M'lady?" A maid stood in the door, her eyes wide. "I have your gown and mask. Are you…"

"Come." The king beckoned for the maid to step forward. He put his hands on his wife's shoulders, and steered her to a mirror. The queen looked terrible. Her eyes showed fear, four hundred years of fear, and they were shadowed. She'd given up on sleep. The dreams plagued her. She was thin, nothing but skin and bone. Her beauty was still there, but fragile, as if it would float away on the breeze. Silently, the maid dressed her in a golden gown. Tears fell down the queen's cheeks. The maid brushed her hair and plaited it with golden thread. The queen covered her face with her hands. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably as the maid fastened pearls around her neck, and a mask over her eyes.

"There." The king said, his voice full of grief. "You're beautiful."

…

The ballroom glowed. Perhaps it was the celling, studded with a thousand different gems, like stars. Or how the room was filled with roses. They grew up the walls and bloomed in vases, and their petals littered the floor. Primroses, in honour of the queen.

Summa knew better of course. The queen might have a new name, but she would always be Teresa to her. The mouse, the titch, giggling as they played together. Then the traitor, the girl who stole her flower and destroyed her life. And now, there she was. Young and beautiful, smiling as she waved from the balcony. How could she be so confident, so radiant, so deadly?

Soft. So soft. The fabric of the gown swished, and Rapunzel stared in the mirror. A clock ticked. She slipped on the mask and gave herself a smile. Her reflection smiled too. It was a cunning smile, a confident one. She felt anything but cunning and confident. She took a shaky breath and turned away from the mirror, walking towards the castle.

It was dark, but as soon as she stepped into the ballroom, the world went bright. She had imagined descending a magnificent staircase, all eyes on her. But she actually had to climb up a very steep staircase to reach the room. She was puffing by the time she arrived. Music, almost otherworldly music, drifted through the room. The floor was littered with rose petals, and crowded with people, dancing, laughing, talking. Her heart plummeted. There were so many faces, all masked. A few eyes turned to her. None of them were the ones she was looking for, muddy brown and full of life. People studied her as if she was a piece of prey. She felt extremely out of her depth, suddenly six years old again. She wanted to hide behind her mother's skirts, away from the judging eyes.

*She slipped into the crowd, head down. She felt someone catch her arm. A young man with tousled reddish-brown hair and an easy-going grin. He bowed hastily.

"Prince Hans of the southern Isles, at your service. May I have this dance?" his eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was something else. It could've have been sadness, or pain or… malice?

Rapunzel wasn't really sure what she was supposed to say.

"Um… Sure?"

He smiled and took her hand. Rapunzel panicked. She couldn't dance! She was raised in the forest, as a theif. She rode horses and stole gold, she didn't dance! The prince must've seen the fear in her eyes, because he whispered to her, "It's a piece of cake, honest. Just follow me."

She relaxed a little. They danced one dance together. He made light conversation and cracked jokes, but when he thought she wasn't watching, she saw him studying her hungrily and thoughtfully. That light in his eyes was definitely malice, and the hunger for revenge.

When the dance was over, she tried to pull away, but Hans didn't let go of her hand. He tried to give her an innocent look, but she saw right through it. He wanted something from her, and he wasn't going to stop until he got it.

"Let me go!"

He let go. He tried to hide his frustration, his anger. Rapunzel ran, ducking and weaving through the crowd until she smacked right into someone. That someone was so cold, she jumped back. A regal looking lady with almost white hair threaded with ice, and an elegant gown, so cold and delicate, Rapunzel thought it must be made of snowflakes. She recognised this woman.

"Your majesty." Rapunzel curtseyed hastily, almost tripping over herself.

"I prefer Elsa," The woman smiled. A soft blue light danced at her fingertips. "What's your name?"

Rapunzel froze in panic. She couldn't use her real name, and she couldn't very well introduce herself as Blondie, could she? Thankfully, she was saved by a girl who looked to be Elsa's sister. Princess Anna, that was it. She linked arms with her sister, exclaiming something about melted chocolate, and they both vanished into the crowd. *

Rapunzel sighed in relief. Afterwards, she couldn't quite remember what caused her to look up. But she did, and that's when she saw them.

Her parents. Her mother, who looked so much like Rapunzel it unnerved her. And her father, with wise, kind eyes and a long dark beard. They sat side by side on thrones on an overhang. She noticed a glass dome separating them from the crowd, and guards by their side. She couldn't take her eyes of her parents. Did they know that their daughter was here? No, of course they didn't. If she hadn't been stolen, would she be up there with them, on her own throne?

Thoughts of a life as a princess taunted her. Instead of making her wistful, she felt sick at the thought of pretty pink dresses and pampering.

But still, her parents looked so welcoming, so familiar. She felt as if she was in a dream, and for a second, she hoped she was.

But eventually, she tore her eyes away from the king and queen. She felt like crying. She couldn't stay here any longer, she couldn't… a wave of panic crashed over her, and the ballroom spun. She fell, and then…

Arms caught her. And she looked up into muddy brown eyes.

...

She was dangerously thin. Her cheeks were flushed, but her skin was ghostly pale. She was dressed as a fox, in a swirling dress and delicate mask.

"You okay?" he asked her. She looked away, staring at the ground.

"I'm okay." She said. Her voice was soft and dimmed, as if she had once been loud and talkative, and was afraid to be again. She stood up shakily. Something about her was so familiar…

But no. There was no long golden hair. It was brown and spiky, reaching only to her shoulders. The mask hid her face, and he couldn't quite make out her eyes.

Rapunzel was tanned, and full of life. When she spoke, it was like she was punching you with words. This girl was delicate, and waif like, like a ghost. She was shaking, obviously not okay. Eugene felt he should offer her something.

"Hey, can I have this dance?"

"Sure thing." Her voice was steadier now. She took his arm, and he steered her toward the dance floor. Couples danced, some young and bright eyed, others older and greyer. The talking died down. Another song started up. She put a hand on his shoulder, he put one on her waist.

And then they danced.

It lasted both eternity and barely a second. They were both terrible dancers, but it didn't matter. They stumbled around the floor laughing. She seemed to relax.

There was something about her laugh…

No he told himself. It's wishful thinking. Stop it. Stop it.

He tried to peer into her eyes, but she always pulled them away from his. Her hair was choppy, as if it had been hastily hacked at. He kept noticing little things, like how her nails were bitten to the quick, and how she wore boots when every other girl in the room seemed to be wearing glass slippers or extremely uncomfortable looking high heeled shoes.

But he just needed to see her eyes. Then he'd know for sure. Then he could flatten the hope in his chest, make his heart stop pounding. Just as the dance was drawing to a close, she saw something just over his shoulder. She froze, and her eyes were wide.

Eugene could seem them perfectly. Big, beautiful green eyes. Like sage leaves.

"Rapunzel?"

"I'm sorry Eugene." She whispered. And then she ran.

The next chapter is going to be extremely intense. You have been warned!