Copyright © 2010 Disney Enterprises, Inc. All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4231-5090-9
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. From it, a magical flower bloomed that had the power to heal the sick and frail.
One day, an old woman named Mother Gothel was singing softly to herself during one of her walks along a craggy hillside. She looked down and discovered the Golden Flower.
Just as she was about to pluck the flower from the ground, she noticed that it was glowing. As she kept singing, Mother Gothel’s brittle voice became strong and clear. Her old bones didn’t seem to ache anymore. She looked at her shriveled hand and saw that all her wrinkles were gone. Suddenly, she was young again, and her eyes widened with selfish delight!
Right then and there, Mother Gothel decided to leave the flower where it was, so that she could continue to use its power. It was a secret she kept all to herself. For centuries, she lived contentedly, singing to the flower each day, making it glow with the magic that kept her young and beautiful. And because of her covetous protection of the flower, no one else benefited from the blossom’s healing gifts.
Over time, a small but happy kingdom flourished nearby. The beautiful kingdom was surrounded by sparkling blue water, its gentle waves dappled by sunlit skies, and the island itself was rich both in good fortune and in an easy harmony among its people. Though the people of the kingdom had heard the legend of the Golden Flower, no one had ever seen it. It was the stuff of stories told around fires on cold winter nights; the truth was, they had never really needed the flower.
The people of the kingdom had recently become especially joyful, as there was news that the Queen was to have a child. But all too soon, the kingdom’s happiness came to an abrupt end. Word spread that the Queen was gravely ill. There seemed to be nothing that could help her.
Or was there? Perhaps the Golden Flower was more than merely an old legend.
Willing to try anything to save her, the people launched a search throughout the kingdom and all the surrounding lands. They combed the hills and fields, mountains and valleys. They even crossed the clear blue water to explore the stark and rocky terrain on the opposite shore.
Mother Gothel, who had kept herself and the flower isolated from the people in the kingdom, was singing to the Golden Flower, as she did every day, when she spotted some strangers in the distance. They were searching every square inch of the land. My flower! Mother Gothel thought selfishly. They mustn’t find it. It belongs to me! But Mother Gothel was wrong. The magical flower did not belong to her. And there was nothing she could do to stop others from benefiting from its healing powers.
Mother Gothel began to panic. Quickly, she hid and watched as the strangers moved closer to the rocky ledge where the Golden Flower grew.
“We found it! We found it!” the strangers shouted at last.
Mother Gothel watched, horrified, as a palace guard uprooted the flower and carried it off. In a panic, she followed the strangers as they bore the precious flower to the castle. She stayed hidden, hoping to come up with a scheme to get the Golden Flower back.
But it was too late. The flower was made into a potion and fed to the ailing Queen. Its magic worked, and the Queen recovered! The King and all the people in the land rejoiced.
Soon afterward, the King and Queen stood on their royal balcony, holding the newborn princess. She was a darling baby, with her mother’s emerald-green eyes, and curly golden hair that gleamed in the sunlight. The palace courtyard was filled with the cheers of the kingdom’s people as they saw their tiny princess for the first time.
But Mother Gothel, watching from the shadows, did not cheer. Without the magic of the Golden Flower, she was growing older by the day. Seething with anger, she waited.
As the day faded into night, the King and Queen launched a single glowing lantern into the night sky to celebrate their princess’s birth.
All their love and hopes for the Princess’s happiness were contained in the lantern. The crowd watched joyfully as the glowing lantern rose to the heavens.
But the King and Queen’s happiness was short-lived. For later that night, as the kingdom slept, a vengeful Mother Gothel crept into the royal nursery and approached the Princess’s cradle. Swiftly she thrust her hand toward the child—but suddenly stopped. The lovely golden curls of the infant entranced Mother Gothel. Compelled to gently stroke the baby’s hair, she quietly began to sing, as she had done so many times with the flower.
Most unexpectedly, the child’s hair began to glow! Mother Gothel watched in shock, then delight, as her withered old hand became young again. The healing power of the Golden Flower lived on in the golden hair of the little princess!
Mother Gothel cut a piece of the Princess’s hair and gazed at it as it lay in her hand. Now she could take it with her and use it anytime she liked.
But that was not to be. Mother Gothel watched as the light hair in her hand turned dark brown. She looked at the back of the Princess’s neck. There was a short brown tuft where the golden hair had been cut. Mother Gothel was furious! She realized that the magic only worked if she sang and stroked the hair on the Princess’s head!
There was only one thing to do. She would have to steal the baby…and keep her hidden from the rest of the world forever.
For many years the people of the kingdom searched and searched, but they never found their princess. No one knew that far away, hidden in a boxed-in valley, Mother Gothel was raising the child as her own. To prevent her from leaving, Mother Gothel kept the girl at the top of the tall tower they called home.
The beautiful valley provided stunning views for the little girl. A waterfall fell from the crest of the steep surrounding cliffs, plunging to a sparkling, winding stream below. The meadows were filled with flowers and lush greenery. Often rainbows rose from the water, glimmering and arching over the stone tower.
During the day, Mother Gothel would frequently go outside the tower to gather herbs and vegetables. On other occasions, the little girl watched as Mother Gothel went to the edge of the valley and slipped into a dark hole at the base of a rocky cliff, disappearing through a tunnel that led her beyond the places that the child could see.
The tunnel opened to a forest outside of the valley. Mother Gothel made sure that when she came and went through the tunnel, no one ever saw her. If anyone did see, they might find the hidden tower—and the Princess.
Mother Gothel adored Rapunzel. And the child loved Mother Gothel, too. After all, she was the only mother—the only person!—whom Rapunzel knew or remembered. Mother Gothel was there to feed and bathe the infant. She watched Rapunzel take her first steps. And she sang lullabies to the little girl as she stroked and brushed her hair every day. Rapunzel never knew the true love of her real parents.
Nearly four years passed before Rapunzel asked Mother Gothel, “Why can’t I go outside?”
Mother Gothel remained cautious in her response. She knew she had to make the little gir
l fearful so she would never stray from the safety of the tower.
“The outside world is a dangerous place filled with horrible, selfish people,” she replied. She did not want to lose Rapunzel. The child was a part of her now. She treasured Rapunzel as she would a prized rose or a precious jewel.
Mother Gothel lifted a section of Rapunzel’s hair. Rapunzel reached back and touched the small tuft on the nape of her neck. It was the only part of her hair that was dark and short.
“They wanted your gift for themselves,” Mother Gothel said, lying to Rapunzel as she gazed at the hair that she herself had cut. “So they cut a piece of your hair.”
“Yes, Mommy.” Rapunzel shivered a little. The outside world must be a terribly dangerous place.
But on the night of her fourth birthday, Rapunzel tiptoed over to the tower window. There in the night sky she saw thousands of sparkling lights drifting up beyond the ridge of the valley toward the stars.
The same thing happened on the night of her fifth birthday, and on her sixth and seventh birthdays. Rapunzel loved those floating lights. She even grew to believe that somehow they were meant for her.
Rapunzel didn’t know that each year, the King and Queen and all the people in the kingdom released thousands of glowing lanterns as beacons for their lost princess. They hoped that one day the lights would guide her home.
Years passed, and Rapunzel grew into a beautiful young woman with sparkling green eyes and golden hair that was nearly seventy feet long—seventy feet of hair that was used to make a swing so that she could swoop from the rafters in the tower, and that made brushes for her beloved paintings. And despite her lonely life spent inside the top of the tower, nothing could destroy Rapunzel’s spirit.
With her eighteenth birthday approaching, Rapunzel had decided that this birthday would be different. At least, she hoped so. But first she had to gather enough courage to ask Mother Gothel for the biggest favor she could grant. Mother Gothel had always told Rapunzel that someday, when she was old enough, when she was ready, she would be allowed to go outside. Outside! Rapunzel could only imagine outside—a place she barely glimpsed from her window, a place filled with creatures and plants and with sights, sounds, and smells she had never experienced!
Rapunzel nervously hoped that Mother Gothel would finally allow her to go out. She needed to find the source of those mysterious floating lights!
Opening the tower’s shutters, Rapunzel leaned out over the windowsill, breathing in the fresh morning air. It seemed to smell better out there than inside the tower, and the air always felt cooler and fresher at the window. From a potted strawberry plant next to her, a tiny green chameleon named Pascal came out to greet her. Pascal was Rapunzel’s only friend, and he looked up at her happily, blinking his big eyes. He could turn almost any color. Now, sensing her mood, he turned a bright yellow.
Pascal knew, as always, exactly what was best for Rapunzel. She wanted to go outside! Pascal skittered over the windowsill and gestured for her to come out of the tower with him. But Rapunzel shook her head. She couldn’t go out. She needed Mother Gothel’s permission. Pascal slumped a bit.
“Oh, come on, Pascal,” she said cheerfully to the little chameleon as she motioned to him to come back inside the tower. “It’s not that bad.”
She used her golden hair to pull a lever. Thick wooden shutters that covered the windows over her head at the tower’s peak burst open. The tower was flooded with sunlight, glittering specks of dust filling the air. Their day was about to begin—the day she would ask Mother Gothel to take her to see the sparkling lights!
The tower made a small living space—it was tall but narrow. On the main level, there was a small kitchen, along with a living room that had a giant fireplace. The window through which Mother Gothel entered and exited the tower was off to one side. Mother Gothel slept in a bedroom on this cozy level of the tower.
Up a set of winding wooden stairs was a small loft where Rapunzel slept. Here she also had a box of paints, a guitar, and a little bed for Pascal.
Rapunzel kept herself busy every day. But today Pascal felt her excitement as she rushed through her chores, cleaning, sweeping, dusting the furniture, waxing the floors made of thick golden wood and shining stone, and washing her single, pale purple dress. Then she sat down to play her guitar. She was self-taught, of course, but the melodies that floated from the strings were beautiful.
She had a few puzzles that she put together and took apart regularly. When she started feeling a bit pent up, she often turned to her darts. She had quite good aim and placed her targets in every nook and cranny to challenge herself with increasing levels of difficulty. Someday she might just create a dart that could fly across the valley and hit one of the far walls of the cliffs. But that day was a long way off. In the meantime, Rapunzel also loved to read! She had exactly three books, all completely memorized—one on culinary arts, which helped her with her cooking, one about geology; and the third about botany. Her favorite was the botany book. It had the best colors and explained about things that grew outside!
Pascal tried to be patient as Rapunzel did the same things over and over again, but sometimes he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. It was boring!—especially when she had to brush her hair for hours on end.
This morning, when she was finally done with all her chores, her guitar, her puzzles and books, her hair…Rapunzel smiled at Pascal. As usual, she had saved the best for last: painting! It was her passion. The tower’s walls were covered with her art. Tossing a length of golden hair over one of the rafters, she hoisted herself up toward her favorite mural.
But today, as she pulled back the red curtain that covered the painting, she looked at it differently. The image was a replica of the view from her window—a night scene showing the glowing lights rising into the sky.
Pulling out her paints, she spotted a small blank space that she wanted to fill. When she finished, she had added a small picture of herself ready to enter the forest beyond the tunnel—to see the world outside her little valley.
Suddenly, Rapunzel heard her mother’s voice. “Rapunzel!” Mother Gothel called from outside the tower. “Rapunzel! Let down your hair!”
Rapunzel gasped. The moment had finally arrived! She took a deep breath and turned to Pascal, who gave her a brave little smile.
“Okay,” Rapunzel said to Pascal, trying to be calm. “No big deal, I’m just going to do it. I’m just going to say, ‘Mother? There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you!’” Rapunzel’s strong voice grew faint as she added, “For eighteen years.” She was beginning to feel her heart sinking. Maybe she wasn’t ready to go outside.
Pascal took one look at Rapunzel and arched his little body, puffing out his chest to tell her to be brave.
“I know, Pascal,” Rapunzel said, appreciating the encouragement. “Come on, now,” she said, motioning to him to hide. “Don’t let her see you.” Mother Gothel had never approved of indoor pets.
Pascal nodded and camouflaged himself to look like the stone on the mantel.
Down below, Mother Gothel yelled, “Rapunzel! I’m not getting any younger down here!” Rapunzel hurried toward the window.
“Coming, Mother!” Rapunzel shouted. She placed a loop of her golden hair around a pulley outside the window and lowered it down. As soon as Mother Gothel set her foot in the loop of hair, Rapunzel began to pull her slowly up to the tower window. It was hard work!
“Hello, Mother!” Rapunzel said, nearly out of breath.
“Rapunzel, how do you manage to do that every day? It looks absolutely exhausting!” Mother Gothel said as she climbed inside.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Rapunzel replied cheerfully.
“Then I don’t know why it takes so long,” Mother Gothel snapped, adding in the sweetest voice she could muster, “Oh, I’m just teasing.”
Meanwhile, Rapunzel remained focused on her big question.
“Uh, so, Mother—” she began. But Mother Gothel immediately interrupted her.
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“Oh, Rapunzel, look in the mirror. Do you know what I see?” she said, pulling Rapunzel into a half hug as they stood side by side. “I see a strong, confident, beautiful young lady.”
Rapunzel was puzzled, until she realized Mother Gothel was talking about her own reflection!
Rapunzel took a breath and tried to speak to her mother again.
“So…Mother?” Rapunzel began, stumbling nervously over her words. “As you know, tomorrow I turn eighteen. And I wanted to ask…what I really want for this birthday…actually, I’ve wanted it for quite a few birthdays now…”
Mother Gothel shook her head impatiently. “Oh, Rapunzel, please stop with the mumbling. You know how I feel about the mumbling. ‘Blah blah blah!’ It’s very annoying.”
Rapunzel sighed. Pascal made a gesture for Rapunzel to keep going.
Rapunzel nodded and blurted out, “I want to see the floating lights!”
Mother Gothel was stunned. Rapunzel herself was stunned. I did it! she thought. I finally asked!
“What?” Mother Gothel said to Rapunzel.
“Well,” Rapunzel answered, “I was hoping you would take me to see the floating lights this year.”
“Oh, you mean the stars,” Mother Gothel said, hoping Rapunzel was still young enough to be fooled.
Rapunzel shook her head. “That’s the thing,” she said excitedly, “I’ve charted stars and they’re always constant. But these? They appear every year on my birthday, Mother! Only on my birthday! And I can’t help but feel that they’re meant for me!
“I need to see them, Mother,” she said. “And not just from my window—in person. I have to know what they are.”
Mother Gothel tried to appear calm. “Go outside?” she said as she gathered her wits. “Why, Rapunzel, you know why we stay up in this tower.”
“I know,” Rapunzel replied. A shiver crept up her back as Mother Gothel described terrible, frightening things—men, ruffians and thugs, with sharp fangs and weapons.
Mother Gothel kept going until she felt certain Rapunzel understood that she was responsible for protecting her gift: her magical golden hair. Then she spoke firmly: “Rapunzel. Don’t ever ask to leave this tower again.”
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