"I'll be here."
For Rapunzel, such a promise had always been easy. The contrary was reckless – unthinkable, even – especially when she already had everything one could desire from life: health, happiness and her mother's love. Lately, however, her heart had begun to yearn for something more. What that was, exactly, she didn't know yet, but her words of promise no longer held the same weight to them. Their emptiness told a story – a sweet, but lonely story – about a girl who had spent her days, from morning until night, watching the world from the window of a tower, far from anyone or anything. It was again on the windowsill where she sat now as her mother walked through the gaping hole in the rock below, concealed by a curtain of leaves and vines. Mother never let her go with her; she was safer inside.
She let her 70ft of golden hair spill freely over the window ledge and billow gently in the wind. The contact it made with the blades of grass below was the closest she'd come to touching the expansive greenery and her heart ached with longing.
Contemplating her loneliness, she sighed wistfully. Although she had her mother and Pascal, an amiable chameleon and her loyal companion, her life felt incomplete. She knew it was dangerous outside and that the magic held in the fibres of her hair would make her vulnerable, but somehow that wasn't enough to ease her yearning.
Above all, she was determined to see the floating lights in person - the ones that would only appear on her birthday - and though she knew it was ludicrous to think, she felt that in some way they were meant for her. The need to discover this had grown inside of her heart year after year. The very prospect was absurd of leaving her tower, of course, but it had become her dream and its unfulfillment sat like a heavy weight in her chest.
This made no difference to her mother, though, who forbade the foolish adventure, leaving Rapunzel to wonder how much longer she would have to spend her life indoors, bound by invisible chains of overprotective love. Was the world so terrible that it was better to imprison oneself in a tower for their entire life? Her future had never felt so uncertain and lonely.
As she watched the clouds, she let her mind wonder and write a new story for herself. It was filled with hope, adventure and – dare she admit it – freedom.
He hurtled through the sky at an alarming speed; the ground came sickeningly closer to his face as his body descended rapidly towards it. Before crashing to the earth, he cursed aloud to the horse who sentenced him to this grizzly end and mentally prayed to be a rich man in his next life.
He closed his eyes to await his sentence.
The impact was softer than he'd anticipated, but he still seemed to be falling. He reopened his eyes to find himself tumbling through the canopies of several trees before plummeting clumsily into a bush. Though he now felt stabbing pains in several places over his body and his joints were protesting at him angrily, he was also aware that his equine pursuer was still on his trail and that, with unbelievable luck, he still possessed the satchel.
He immediately jumped to his feet.
Without any hesitation, he darted for the boulder ahead of him, uncomfortably conscious that the horse had landed not far behind him. He held his breath as he heard the sound of its hooves drawing nearer to him, trying to pick up his scent. When it passed by, he slowly stepped back and placed his hand on the wall behind him, only to grunt at the unearthing that it was a veil of vines, concealing the entrance to a small cave. His audible discovery brought the horse back on his trail with a deafening whinny, and he dived into the leafy curtain, clutching his satchel tightly to his chest.
His heart pounded loudly, but through some luck the horse passed on. Swift on his feet, he made haste in following the light at the other end of the tunnel.
After spending a while at her window, soothed by the occasional breeze on her face, Pascal tugged impatiently at the sleeve of her dress.
Rapunzel pushed the hair from her face and, lowering her hands to cup her chin in her palms, she turned politely to the green chameleon. "Yes, Pascal?"
Using his tail, he pointed eagerly at one of the walls in the tower.
"You're right, Pascal," Rapunzel agreed, immediately understanding his request. "I still need to finish my painting."
Reluctantly, she dragged herself away from the ledge, her hair ascending the length of the tower.
She stood on a stool that sat next to the fireplace and scrambled onto the mantelpiece so that she could face her painting on the wall above it. It was merely a picture of her, watching the floating lights from a distance. The longer she stared at it, though, the sadder she felt and for once Rapunzel had no desire to paint at all.
Yet before she could change her mind, Pascal was already trying to pull a pot of green paint from her box.
It managed to bring a smile to her lips. "Yes, Pascal. We can paint you in the picture, too."
Once he was certain that the horse was no longer following him, he turned around to face the hidden world he'd stepped into.
His eyes widened at what lay before him: the area was small and enclosed by two stone cliffs which were staggeringly high. They met at a point at the back of the glade and a waterfall descended gracefully between them, leading into a gentle stream which shimmered in his direction. The ground he stood on sloped down to the water before rising again almost vertically to a grassy mound, decorated with wild flowers and dainty bushes which surrounded an impressive tower. As tall and as elegant as its pointed purple turret, it was almost the height of the stone cliffs behind it. Long green vines grew up the tower's crumbling neck, leading to a rounded head with a large open window - the perfect hideout.
He ran down the hill and leaped onto the mound, being careful to avoid falling into the stream. Up close, the tower seemed a lot taller and he questioned whether he would be able to reach the top.
"Here goes nothing," he muttered, pulling out two arrows from his satchel. With a forceful stab into the wall, he began his climb.
Rapunzel used the time working on the painting to distract herself from her saddened thoughts. Absorbed in the task at hand, she failed to hear the voice at the base of the tower.
Pascal nudged her urgently.
"What is it?" she asked curiously.
The chameleon jumped at an unsettling sound: a loud scrape against the stone wall of the tower's neck. Only seconds later, the sound repeated – this time slightly louder, as if the disturbance were travelling upwards.
Rapunzel gripped the edge of the mantelpiece, alarm paralysing her. The noise continued, and was soon followed by vocalised grunts.
"Ruffians," Rapunzel whispered fearfully. Determined to defend herself, she jumped down to the ground to find a weapon. She threw cupboard doors open in the kitchen, pushing bowls, cups and wooden spoons aside. Her hand landed on a small pot and she quickly grabbed it.
Coming to her aid, Pascal shook his head and pulled firmly at a frying pan.
"Yes, thank you, Pascal," Rapunzel said frantically, gripping its handle determinedly.
The climb turned out to be a strenuous task, thanks to the bruising on his body, but he had no intention of giving up. With each stab he made into the bricks of the tower, he thought of the memories he usually pushed into the back of his mind, using them as a source of adrenaline. Together with his jewelled plunder and the tranquil sanctuary awaiting him, he accumulated enough determination and strength in which to reach the tower's window.
The sound of the intruder was becoming much louder and she knew she didn't have much time. She dashed over to a wooden beam beside the window to conceal herself. Breathing heavily, she noticed her hair lying across the floor, tresses pointing at different angles. In several frantic motions she gathered up the golden trail she'd left and shoved it in a heap behind her.
As the intruder reached the ledge of the window, they jumped inside and hastily slammed the wooden shutters behind them. The sound of their desperate panting eased into a relieved sigh as they leaned against the wall.
Silently, Rapunzel moved towards them, adrenaline rushing through her body. The figure was male, she knew that from the drawings in her books; he was tall with broad shoulders, dark hair and heavy boots. Facing his back, she watched him remove the satchel he was wearing and bring it to his front. What was inside she couldn't see.
He gave another huge sigh. "Alone at last."
And then Rapunzel immediately hit him hard around the head, mustering all the strength she had to offer.
She gave a frightful squeak and hid behind her dressmaking mannequin.
Be brave, she told herself. How could you face the world when you can't even face one of its monsters?
Taking a deep breath, she peered over the top of the mannequin and stared at the figure on the floor. He wasn't moving; she mentally congratulated herself on her aim. Curious, she pushed the mannequin forward and eventually stepped around it to take a closer look, bearing her frying pan for protection. His jaw length hair masked the face that beheld his identity. She prodded his head with the frying pan tentatively before drawing it back in defence in case he were to move. When he didn't, she looked at Pascal for reassurance. The chameleon, who was sat on the tiled floor beside her, shrugged in response.
Rapunzel knew she had little of this moment left before her mother returned. Desperation and anxiety flared inside her. She had wanted the opportunity to meet the outside world for so long; now that a part of that was inside her tower, she was at loss with what to do.
Using her frying pan again, she turned his head on its side, again bracing herself for any signs of movement. Locks of hair still rested on his face. Her eyes were wide, fearful; she breathed heavily.
Pascal plodded over to a red painting of a fanged 'ruffian' which Rapunzel's mother had painted on the ground earlier, as an example of what she was trying to protect her from. He mimicked the image by altering his skin to a shade of red and putting his fingers in front of his mouth to represent the sharp canines. Rapunzel nodded her head in understanding. She grimaced.
Holding the rim of the frying pan, she used the handle to lift the being's upper lip. It revealed a set of straight, white teeth. Bemused, she decided to flick the remainder of hair from his face.
The man's eyes were closed and his expression was softened. He wasn't like the monsters which mother had described at all. Her body relaxed as she examined him. She had never seen a ruffian before but she knew that he wasn't one.
As she leaned in closer, the man suddenly awoke. Without any hesitation she hit him with the base of her frying pan again.