Who thought I was dead? I sure did…

Noon30ish: Aw, thanks! *looks back at own older art* *hides away in shame*

Chapter 20, where the lighting is kind of artistic and Punzie's life finally begins, even though perhaps not in the expected way...

CW: dialogue and stuff

Such grandeur in such a small chapel should hardly be allowed at all, according to Rapunzel's well-versed aesthetic eye. Under the black ribs of the superbly high ceiling, the abstract stained glass panels diffused a majestic glow that religiously bathed the reduced space, painting geometric touches of fresh turquoise, intense indigo, gentle gold and blood red onto the heiress's braided mane. The young woman looked around nervously through the quiet semi-obscurity, as if at a stage as the play was yet to start. Even the two suits of armour on either side of the door behind her, each clutching their ornate silver ceremonial swords, seemed to intently stare ahead.

What should she expect? Why meet in such secret? No earlier than minutes ago, a note had been handed to her by one of the servants, indicating Lady Anna wanted to talk to her in the intimacy of the manor's chapel. Rapunzel had hardly needed to wonder what about. It had to be about her abilities. It had to be about the way she had with constellite and the manner in which her hair lit up whenever she used her unique skill. She knew Anna had pierced the mystery as to how and why such a rare and fashionable curiosity had arisen, and would come to tell her the full truth. She knew it would make sense, finally, that all the messy scribblings she had gotten from botany volumes in the mansion's library would finally become clear to her. Or at least, she hoped so. The wooden angel carved beside the swirling marble columns of the altar smiled eerily and mischievously back at her, her delicately sculpted feathers half-folded with the theatricality of a velvet curtain. Rapunzel stepped forwards to look at what they concealed and gasped at the immediately recognisable silhouette.

"Mother! Mother Gothel!"

In a ruffle of embroidered viridian taffeta skirts, the blonde ran up to the older woman, wrapping her pale arms around her neck in a warm hug. Oh, what a delightful surprise Anna had got for her. The sleek raven locks caressed her cheek with agreeable familiarity.

"Mother, it's been - I mean, it's seemed like such a long time - getting to see you, here, on this continent - you won't believe everything I've -"

Suddenly noticing the matron's sternly formal stare, she stepped back and executed a curtsy.

"Madam, it is my greatest pleasure to have you here."

"I am flattered, Miss Corona. It has been quite some time. Look at yourself, all grown up in that colonial gown. Why don't you tell me about these past few days?"

"Thanks, I…"

"Oh, never mind, I was just teasing you," Gothel spoke, carefreely running her hand through her black curls. "Don't be offended, you'll have plenty of time to tell me about all your adventures with your little friends on the zeppelin back home. Now, however, I have some news for you."

Of course, why else would she have come? Rapunzel slapped herself mentally. Of course she must have heard about everything that happened already. Of course…

"I'd be delighted to hear them," she answered with a cordial smile.

"Father has heard of your… visit. He will be back in Plant Alpha for supper in time to see both of us. He'll be so surprised to see how much you've changed since the last time. Almost a lady, his little Rapunzel."

The heiress feigned to ignore the 'almost' to focus on the earlier part of the message. From what she had heard, her father was at the Exposition, waging war upon the Duke of Weselton and the Stabbingtons… did it mean...

"Will he consent to put the fighting to an end, then?"

She looked away from Gothel, eyes laid upon the gentle patterns of light on the black marble floor.

"You look grown up, but you've yet got to think like one... He could, of course, did he not have that stubbornness that seems to run in the family. The whole point is: will he accept his mistake along with all the reparations that ensue? It is a sticky situation, dear, much more than you believe. You set something more powerful than you thought off balance with your short-sighted desperately romantic whim. But if it can go one way, then it can go the other, don't you agree?"

"You mean... I can mend it all?"

The matron could clearly read the youthful hope in the maiden's green eyes, and couldn't help grinning back. The way she had made her, assembled her, little fragment by little intricate, well-crafted fragment, the way she had manufactured her as a younger mirror image of herself. Oh, how much she wanted to be that young, that hopeful again. If one could rewind the clock…. if time could go one way, it could go the other, she mused ironically inside her mind. Things didn't work in that manner, but she knew the construction of her own edifice, of her own little Rapunzel - so she could meticulously proceed to the deconstruction. She knew Rapunzel at least as well as she knew herself, and she knew where she should start - with the girl's pride.

"I mean, you can try and heal the wounds you have caused. If he hears you speak, it may affect his humour, maybe even change his mind. You are his little treasure, he values you before all things… he'll listen to you. He'll hear all of what you've seen, all of what you've heard and learned during the last days. And I'll be there by your side, too."

"You'll help me? You think that'll work?"

"I hope so, darling. And I'm not the only one. Amongst your father's closest trade partners, some have voiced their trust for you too. At this point, your father's not entirely prepared for an all-out war, and he knows it. Had we had more time to reinforce our ties with the DunBroch mercenaries, our chances would have been significantly increased. But even the Andersens and the Weseltons are reluctant to fight. You see, the Crown of Cornucopia has yet to enter the military balance, but should they intervene, Frederik Andersen is worried they would side with us. On both sides, there is a hope for a truce. A truce that you are the only one able to bring. "

She had to admit all she knew of all these distant warring parties was through her new friends of the Salon. The DunBroch heiress separated from her mother after a confrontation. The Anderson tradesman about to marry his beautiful aristocrat betrothed. The Miseralian aviator who had tried to avoid a war, only to have his clan involved in another. The white-haired Drifter who would have liked to have nothing to do with all those colonist conflicts at all. And her own Flynn, compromised by the situation while he had worked so hard to earn her father's trust, to be able to ask for her hand. All of these lives she could bring back together, as they should have been in the first place, in the grand, implacable clockwork of everything, as if that puny perturbation of the last couple of days had been almost invisible… All she had to do was one thing...

"Is Eugene coming with us? When are we leaving? Do I have time to thank Lady Anna? And her fiancé, and her sister… and everyone else, too! You'll see, I'll introduce you, I'm sure you'll enjoy their company."

"Eugene will come; I believe Jerome would also like a word with him. I'm certain you'll be able to convince Miss DunBroch to join, too. After the recent development, Mrs. Elinor has been worried not to hear from her. By the way, you can return this lovely gown to Baroness Anna, or whoever lent it to you. A… contact of mine has been able to provide you with a full new wardrobe in my airship ready for your disposition. Delightful Extremesian creations to suit your status."

"My… status?"

"Back in Cornucopia, you were an accomplished young lady from a wealthy family having acquired a title. But here, you are the only daughter of a man who effectively owns just about half of the continent. You should at least let the world know that."

Rapunzel nodded with practised elegance, getting used to her new role. The matron's hand affectionately ran against her golden tresses, admiring the beautiful handiwork Gerda had done in incorporating delicate cog-shaped metallic pins into her braid. The ornaments suited her perfectly. The blonde wasn't just a gearwheel amongst others, she was the cornerstone of an engine that was powerful enough to establish a new order. An order where she, the simple Gothel of humble birth, would stand there between the daughter and her father, their shadow covering the silver streaks in her dark hair...

"And then," the matron continued, slowly revolving around the young woman, never breaking eye contact, "when everything is settled and you're acclaimed for all you've done for everyone, we'll be back home! I know you'll want to explore the world some more and get introduced to the wonders of Eastern Extremesia, but you'll have more than enough time to do that when you gain your new titles. You see, this wasn't the only news I had."

With a wink of her dark lashes, she leant against the side of the altar, her thin fingers playing with the lace tablecloth, setting the tiny copper orbs of the miniature moon-centric planetarium on it to run around in playful circles, mimicking the dance of the celestial bodies around their immutable orbits, minuscule trails of blue light on their wake. She stood for an instant, at the top of her art and the climax of her act, letting the younger woman's impatience sink in.

"I had a chat with the Chancellor on the radiomessage. You know, the Chancellor to the Crown of Cornucopia himself. Even though I should call him the Viceroy, now, I suppose. It seems, dearest Lady of Crownsworth, that the Prince of Cornucopia himself is after your fair hand."

It took a few seconds for the heiress to register the new information. Mother Gothel knew that last move in her game had won over Rapunzel's stubbornness. The matron took as step back, admiring her masterpiece. A ray of sunlight had fallen onto her figure, enveloping every lock of her hair, transmuting the blackness into pure colour. There she was, in the spotlight at last, her target within the reach of her polished fingernails and of her wrinkling fingers, after years of darkness and servitude. There it was, the masterwork of her life, tame and conquered, her emerald glare shining in expectation.

"The Prince… he's… wanting to... propose to me?" she managed to stutter in her daze. "For real?"

"Why must you solely believe I'm joking when I'm not? This is getting tedious. Well, anything more spirited to say? Well, I have something to say. You don't need to wish to see the lights in the distance any more when half of the known world will soon be yours. You don't need to invent silly romances with your father's more than morally questionable underling when you have a real prince to come and take you far away. You don't need any of that immature drama. Just come to mama. Rapunzel, just trust me."

In a blinding carousel of possibilities, Rapunzel saw herself in the white Cornucopian light, the golden crown over her blonde head. She saw the crowd waltz, spinning in joyful circles all around her. She saw the zeppelins crowding the sky, flying the high colours of the Crownsworth name. She saw her father, grinning proudly, his most stunning amethyst-studded suit glittering in the light of a thousand lanterns. She saw her mother, just as on the mosaic back in Camford, fondly smiling too, the familiar shape of a multi-function pocket watch sitting in her white palm, the needles ticking, ticking, circling endlessly and dizzyingly, so warm, so real, so bright…

Yes, the years of error and isolation were behind, forgotten, erased like a mere rough sketch. Yes, finally, her life would begin.

Even though she had been expecting it, Gothel was hardly prepared to the vigour of Rapunzel's embrace. Slightly destabilised, she had to cling onto the candelabra by the altar for balance. How much strength the young one had, she would never be enough reminded. This time, she kindly returned the hug, blissfully smiling with relief. Oh, how much she had feared, how much she had felt for Rapunzel, for the daughter she'd never had, for the daughter she almost had, at least starting from that very instant, dearly cuddled in against her heart, in the stained glass's magnificent light.

"Oh, mother," the blonde whispered, even though the other could not tell whether she was sobbing, "I'm so sorry. For all I did, in the last days, and ever. Please, forgive me."

"There, there, darling. You know I'm the only one who'll always be right here for you. I'm the only one who knows how to make you happy, no matter what…"

"Th-thank you."

The younger finally broke the tearful hug, daring to meet Gothel's dark gaze without flinching. Only then did the dark-haired woman notice that Rapunzel was standing in the full light, her slender shoulders, framed by the lace frills of the wide neckline, draped in dapples of crimson, cyan and emerald, loose strands of her rebellious hair burning pure white in the warm air. Evicted from her spotlight, the matron could not help but stare at the stunning vision.

"You know, I was only half-teasing when I said you've become a beautiful lady. I've known you since you were still a small child, when you painted with your bare hands and just started to learn to play the glass harpsichord. I've seen you grow, learn, make mistakes too, and blossom as the splendid woman you are now. You might have thought I was scornful, or selfish, or even jealous, but I've learnt to love you, Rapunzel, as my own blood. I've learnt to love you when I got to know you. Now I love you more than anyone, because I know you better than anyone, better than you know yourself, and maybe better than I know myself, too. Mother knows what you want, what you dream for. Mother always knows best."

"But of course you do," Rapunzel gasped, struggling to believe that there was no scornful comeback to that one honest-sounding compliment - but an idea sparked in her juvenile eyes, and her expression slightly changed. "Oh, how blind I've been, you can't even imagine. Coming to the end of the world to find some answers, when I could just have asked you. Of course you know."

Smiling with fond melancholy, Rapunzel approached the candelabra and fidgeted with one of the small constellite crystals that diffused a faint light throughout the room. Removing it from its dedicated support, she delicately caught it between her fingers and even gently blew on it, causing a brusque surge of light, suddenly echoed by a faint aura around her golden hair.

"You know why that is, don't you? Why I'm..."

Her voice trailed off, as she hoped Gothel to interrupt and tell her the answer was obvious all along, and that she had been stupid not to see it.

"Don't - don't do that! You'll hurt yourself! You know that's really dangerous, of course that's really dangerous! Put that back immediately."

But the girl held onto the indigo fragment, impatiently running her finger against the edge. Gothel had to reveal the whole truth. Her past had to be exposed in full light, in the fully glory of its scraps of tiny levers and pulleys soldered together to make what she was, right there, right then. She wanted to know it all, to have it all, for her life to actually begin.

"You mean… you don't know?" she spoke after an instant of silence, her voice clear of any trace of anger but with a tint of disappointment.

"I know about it, unlike you, I didn't a couple of decades to notice it. I am observant, you see. I know about it, but I don't know how. Your father never told me."

A shadow fleetingly flew past her brown gaze. Jerome was afraid, she realised. He was afraid she wouldn't love the child the same way if she knew. He was afraid of what all of that meant. And she resented it as well, for some day Rapunzel would have to know.

"But you can ask him," she added precipitately. "You're old enough to be told."

Gothel repressed a tinge of bitterness. Rapunzel would know it all, have it all, and see all of her most colourful dreams come true. And she, the greying matron by her side, would have some of it too, through her. Through Rapunzel, she would live a second, more perfect youth, the one she had worked towards for years. Like a puppeteer pulling the levers of a delicious little automaton that could play tricks with its ingenious system cogs and wheels, she thought sarcastically. Would it be enough? Would it be sufficient to fill the void in her life? For middle-aged women were poor, brainless engines, hollow inside, waiting and dreading all at once…

"No," Rapunzel said softly, but decidedly. "I don't want to hear it from him. He never cared about me, he brought me up in a lie, all of those years. How can I tell he won't lie to me again? How can I make sure? I want you to tell me. You told me to trust you. You told me you knew me better than anyone else."

"Dear, you'll be told at supper, it's all going to be all right. Don't be so upset."

"Upset? Me? But it's been nearly two decades, mother! You know what, I don't want it for supper. I want it now, I want it here. I don't want to stare out the windows singing waiting for a prince to pass by. When will my life begin? When will I finally get to know about my past, control my present and have plans for my future? You see, I might have been brought up by you. You may think you know me. But here's the point. You're wrong. Entirely wrong. I'm not like you. I'm not like Father, either. You can spend years clawing for scraps of happiness till your nails get broken and your hands get hard and dry from trying. You can be a well-oiled gear in a well-designed machine that receives the impulse it should and fulfils the illusory purposes it was designed by others to fulfill, through the vessel of others. You can live every day, like a clock ticks every minute or every second, letting the life run out of you slowly, hoping better days will come sometime. You can function as a part of a cramped, mediocre engine, living your life as if trapped in a dark, isolated tower, without ever dreaming bigger. Well, I dream bigger. I don't want your shades of sepia. I don't want your awkward compromise. I don't want to botch the patching up some war that will have to happen some day or other. I don't want to listen to Father's lies. I don't want to marry the prince if that's part of some ridiculous political scheme you've got to gain some additional crumb of power. I don't want any of it. I want it all, in full colour, or I want nothing."

"Do you even hear yourself? You don't make any sense. Don't be so… vague."

At the disapproval, the tingles felt delectable as they bubbled at the bottom of her gut. The constellite was shining through her closed fist, and her hair gleamed in furious silence, pressed against the stained glass surface. Every word she uttered was an incredible release of energy, as if all she had inside of her was threatening of boiling out, of brimming over, of taking over the world, of letting out some steam. And once she had started, she could not stop.

"Did you really think I'd follow you? Did you think I'd hand you Merida, and my father, and the Prince of Cornucopia? Did you really think I'd leave everything to come back with you? You call me blind, but look at yourself! You are everything I've always loathed, everything I've always hated deep down inside me. I don't want to live with you, work with you, or be like you. And I'll never let you use me again, I swear in the name of the Sun. I swear I won't let you of Papa touch a hair of Flynn's, because he's mine, and I love him, and I want him. I swear I'll protect Merida from you, and from any of my father's people who want to lay a single finger upon her. I swear I'll protect the Salon from you, and the rest of the world if I must, and you know why? Because I can."

As she spoke, she violently threw the speck of constellite against the marble tiles, causing a detonation and a flash of light. The matron had to step backwards, stumbling against the candelabra and knocking it over as she did. Shielding her eyes with her sleeve, she was left awestruck by the scene before her. It was at once terrible and beautiful. It was a carnage of colours, of light and darkness all entangled, of printed shapes of stained glass patterns that made her features so alien she looked profoundly human, of words that sounded so wrong they were almost right.

Oh, how could Mother Gothel have been so far from the truth? She had always thought Rapunzel was her personal sunshine, her perfectly crafted golden automaton, her delicate clockwork flower that would grow and bloom, expanding brass and copper parts that were made to fit exactly inside each other, each tiny tooth of each tiny wheel exactly manufactured to provide the exact right momentum at the right place and time, with an elegance that was so flawless it was almost uncanny. But the girl… the girl was a constellite-powered engine, a pure source of energy, incandescent like the stuff of stars, burning its way out of her without reason or direction, capable of consuming her, of consuming them all, too powerful to be canalised, too unpredictable to be understood, too novel and different to be embraced, like an unstoppable racing steam vehicle, only leaving destruction to rebuild from in its wake.

"Is that you… Punzie?" Merida's voice sounded worriedly through the chapel's door, probably alerted by the explosion's noise since she stayed in the room closest to the chapel.

In her fit of rage, the heiress hardly paid any attention. Gothel, however, desperately clung to whatever she could use to solve her situation. She was on the brink of panicking. She was out of time. She was out of ideas. For a second, she had thought she was triumphant, and then she had lost it all, for a derisive, irrational matter. She had softened her mind, opened up her heart, only to have it smashed to pieces in a second. Maybe Rapunzel was right, maybe she was clutching to the shreds of opportunity wherever she found them. But she found her last shred of chance right there, so she had no choice but to seize it.

"You want me to be the bad guy?" she breathily addressed Rapunzel. "Fine. Now I'm the bad guy."

A dark shadow was cast upon the maiden, and then Gothel was on her. Her embrace was just as warm and protective as ever, but this time, it left her no escape. From behind her, the bony arms grabbed her shoulders, forcefully turning her towards the door. Her ragged breath descended irregularly onto the nape of her neck, causing the thin golden hair to stand on end. Entangled messed up hair, entangled irregular heartbeats echoing in pregnant silence. With some absent-minded affection, two fingers stroked her porcelain cheek as the older woman broke the quietness.

"Come, dear," she cooed, earning a small surprised shudder from Rapunzel, before the latter realised she wasn't the one being talked to.

Merida burst into the chapel, her ghostly ivory nightgown flowing against her pale knees, an uncertain glint in her sky blue eyes.

"Who are you?" she gasped in shock.

As the blonde was about to answer, Mother Gothel hissed a single word in a fashion that made her blood freeze in her veins.

"Kai."

"Now that can't be your - "

In other circumstances, Merida might have reflected that the woman must be a servant, since servants should hardly different from each other at all. In yet other circumstances, she may have followed Rapunzel's eyes and turned around in time to see the silent shadow swiftly move out of the darkness behind her at Gothel's call.

In the turn of event willed and crafted by the fates, however, her words were cut short by the sharp metallic click of a pistol being loaded right against the back of her head.

Ugh that was a long wait…

Fun fact: 'In the name of the Sun' is a somewhat bold shortened version for the swearing phrase 'In the name of the Man in the Sky' - a widely used saying in Cornucopia. The shorter variant is particularly frequently employed by the Corona family and their clan, partly because their emblem is a golden sun.
Yeah, that was a very dialogue-y chapter. As you've probably guessed, action will be back in the next one. And Jack and Hiccup and the rest of the crew will be, too. Oh, look, cliffhanger. (I wasn't even doing it on purpose I swear)

Announcement: During the long months of withdrawal, I've taken some time to look at the older chapters, and well, some post-editing needs to be done, so I'll probably go through everything and clear out the mess when the story is complete. By the way, some huge plot holes have been worked around, so I should get back to updating… soon as in around next month? Until then, please read and review, follow and favourite, stay awesome xx