A/N: Thank you for those who have reviewed my story. I really appreciate the time you spend reading and reviewing my story.

I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Tangled

Chapter 2- The Stranger

"You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."

-Christopher Robin to Winnie the Pooh

Shortly thereafter, I lay on my bed, thinking. Pondering what Mother had just said to me. Snippets of what she said couldn't leave my brain and repeated themselves over and over again. You're too frail and fragile to go outside…Who knows what could happen to you out there…You're gullible to what people say to you…You believe everything I say…You're much too naive….I'm the only one who can protect you…I know best.

Was she right? Was I a completely silly, naive and gullible person? Pascal poked his head out from underneath my pillow. Maybe he has some idea, I thought. Can't hurt to ask. I sat up, and took him gently in my hands. As I held to my face, I asked him in my most serious voice, "What do you think, Pascal? Do you think I'm too immature to go outside?" Immediately he shook his green head. I laughed, relieved to know that one person in my life had some faith in me.

"Thank you, Pascal," I said. "I feel a little better now, knowing that you believe in me." He grinned his chameleon grin and I set him back down onto my pillow. He curled up in a ball, and immediately started to nap. I, however, was still much too keyed up to do the same. Even though I had told Mother I would not ask about the stars again, I could not get them out of my head. I still wanted, with ever single fiber of my being, to see the lights and find out their secret. Maybe we could strike up some kind of bargain? Like if she took me to see the lights, I would cook every night for dinner? Or maybe I could do something special for her like…

Suddenly, I smacked my hand on my bed, realizing that I could not really do anything for Mother that I didn't do already. Generally, I cleaned the tower, and cooked, and baked, and all sorts of other things. And it wasn't as if I could go outside and find food for us for a change. Mother had made it very clear that she did not want me to go outside of the tower. Then what could I do to convince her to take me? Desperation washed over me like a wave, and despair followed along with it. There was nothing I could do. I would be trapped up here in this tiny little space forever.

Lost in my pessimistic thoughts, I almost didn't hear the sound of something hitting against the tower. What was that, I wondered as I dashed downstairs. Pascal, woken up by my frustrated smack, quickly followed me. I rapidly walked over to the windows, keenly listening for any further noises. To my shock, the banging and scratching became louder and louder. Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit me. Somebody or something was outside of my tower. And it wasn't Mother.

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Alarmed, I grabbed the only weapon I could find in the short time I had before whatever it was entered the tower: my frying pan. I quickly hid behind our dress dummy, hoping that whatever it was wouldn't hurt me. Of course, I realized, I can hurt it before it hurts me.

I barely had thought that before the something opened the window and leaped inside my tower. From my hiding spot, I could see that it was a man. He quickly shut the window again and I could hear him sigh.

"Alone at last", he said, sounding relieved. Your relief isn't going to last long, there, mister. Raising the pan high above my head, I quickly ran out from my hiding spot and smacked the back of his head with it. He immediately slumped to the floor, unconscious. Uncertain as to how long he would remain that way, I hastily hid behind the dummy again. I waited a few moments, and when he hadn't stirred a bit, I crept out from behind the dummy. I was now a bit curious to see who this stranger was.

I tip-toed back over to him. With my frying pan, I poked his head, making sure that he wouldn't wake up suddenly and hurt me. Pascal, who did not seem as alarmed as I was, soon followed me. I looked over at him, giving a questioning glance. What should I do? He quickly pointed to Mother's drawing of a man with pointy teeth, which she painted the last time I had asked about going outside. That time she told me great- and scary- stories of men who would love nothing better than to hurt me. Don't forget, Rapunzel, she warned. There are plenty of men out there who could harm you with their pointy teeth.

Anxious, I used the handle of my frying pan to open his mouth and examine his teeth. Instead of pointy and scary teeth, this man had nice shiny white ones. Ones that were very much like my own, in fact. Hmmm. I looked more closely at him, particularly interested in the brown lock of hair that covered his eyes. I flicked the lock over his head, and peered even closely at him. Soft brown hair, a nice face, long eyelashes. I felt my shoulders relax. Surely this man looked too normal to be one of the monsters in my mother's stories.

His eyes suddenly opened. Startled, I hit him on the head with my frying pan again. He, of course, fell unconscious for the second time. Pascal scampered over to me, and gave me a pointed look. Rapunzel, what would happen if your mother found him here?

I found myself becoming nervous again. "You're right, Pascal," I said, with a tremor in my voice. "I have to hide him somewhere! Mother would be furious if she found him." And she's already displeased with me, I thought silently. I quickly glanced around the room, searching for something big enough to put him in. My gaze landed on my closet. Perfect!

However, instead of being perfectly easy, it was a perfect nuisance fitting him in there. More often than not, I would shove him inside (using my hair as a tool), only to find that after I shut the door, the lock on my closet was broken. And more times than I could count, I found the doors opening. He would fall on top of me and knock me to the floor. Finally, I shoved him inside the closet and pushed the green rocking chair under the handles. Success! The doors stayed shut.

"Okay, okay," I said, thinking aloud. "I've got a person in my closet, I've got a person in my closet." Suddenly, the realization of what I had done sunk in. Somebody had come up to the tower and I had, on my own, defended myself and imprisoned them. "I've got a person...in my closet!" I said gleefully. I walked over to Mother's full length mirror with a laugh, my frying pan in my hand. "Too weak to handle myself out there, huh, Mother?" I smirked. I threw up my frying pan up in the air and caught it. Turning it in a circle, I continued. "Well, tell that to my frying pan!" Overzealous, I accidentally hit myself with the pan. However, my triumphant feelings remained. Take that, Mother. I am much stronger and smarter than you think I am! I decided I was going to show her the man when she returned. Surely Mother would now believe that I was capable of handling myself outside. Overcome with gladness, I beamed a smile at Pascal. We're one step closer to seeing the floating lights!