Rescuing Rapunzel

by Candice Gilmer

  He tipped his head to the side, one of the dark hairs brushing over his brow. My immediate impulse was to brush the strand away from his face so my view of him would not be obstructed.

  “Your face looks better,” he said.

  I reached up and caressed my cheek where the bruises had appeared after Mother’s strikes. I had no reason to be concerned with them, since she had not been here to tell me how hideous they looked. My cheek was still a bit tender but I assumed most of it was healed.

  “I…” It seemed such a strange observation. I did not understand and I was not sure how to respond. “Thank you.”

  He let out a sigh and ran his hand over his face. “It must seem so strange to you that I would come to see you. After all, what reason would I have to visit? I doubt you have had many visitors.”

  “None,” I replied.

  He nodded. “I expected as much.” His gaze ran over me again, making my tummy flutter. “At least we are off to a better start today. You are not trying to stab me.”

  A tiny giggle slipped out, and I covered my mouth, not sure if I was supposed to laugh. “I apologize. But you are a rather large man, and you appeared so suddenly…” Again, I felt the fool for not looking to see who had opened the gate.

  His warm smile made me feel a little less silly. “You had no reason to think otherwise. Honestly, if I had not fallen through the gate in the wall by accident, I would not have found the way into the garden. The door is extremely well hidden.”

  I blinked. “Is it? I have never seen it.”

  “So you have never been down from the tower?”

  “No, never,” I replied.

  “You were born here?”

  I shook my head. “I have no memory of anything before the tower. Mother said I was born on the side of a road during a spring storm and she brought me here eighteen years ago.”

  “When is your birthday?”

  “In sixteen days,” I replied, smiling, already a bit excited for my birthday.

  Sometimes it came and went with nothing, but every year, I clung to the hope that Mother would give me something. Aside from Nick’s stones, I had never received another gift beyond what I needed to survive. Which made his gift that much more special.

  “I shall have to remember to bring you a gift,” Nick replied. “Speaking of gifts.” He reached behind him, producing a small parcel, like the one that had dangled from the arrow. “This is for you.”

  I stood, intent on accepting his offering, but could not find the steps to move toward him and take the gift. I knew not why, but I could not move forward.

  As if he understood my hesitation, he took a step to his right, and placed the package on my bed.

  “You may open it when you are ready.” He moved back to the window, putting his hand on the braid, then glanced outside. “I will be going now.”

  I nodded, clenching the braid that hung over my shoulder as I stepped toward the window. “As you like.”

  He watched the hair fall for a moment, before turning to look at me again. “I would like to come back. May I?”

  “Yes,” I said, before I even realized I had uttered the word.

  With a smile on his face, he climbed out the window, twisting to the side so he could fit, then started his descent.

  I braced against the windowsill, my back stiff and straight as he climbed down, yet I kept turning to look at the parcel on my bed.

  When the weight disappeared, I released the window and turned to the bed, my fingers trembling once more. I ripped apart the parcel.

  Inside were three beautiful bright blooms. One pink, one blue and one violet.

  And a note.

  For your beautiful hair,

  Yours,

  Nick

  I stared at them, twirling each one in my fingers. The bright petals were so beautiful, I had never seen anything like them. I took the pink one first, tucking it behind my ear. The other two, I tucked into the braids around my face.

  A groan echoed–the door being opened.

  I ran back to the window. “Nick!”

  He was just walking through the door and he froze, turning back to me.

  “Thank you!” I yelled, louder than I ever had before.

  He cupped his hand next to his mouth. “You are welcome!”

  Chapter 16

  “Here we go,” Nick said, standing on the exterior wall of Rapunzel’s tower. He held his bow aloft and took aim at her windowsill. Inhaling a breath, he let the arrow fly. It hit to the right of the window, clattering against the stone, and tumbled into the garden.

  Nick spat out a curse and sat on the wall, ready to drop into the garden.

  “I think you missed,” a lovely female voice said.

  Rapunzel stood in the window, the flowers he had given her two days ago still in her hair.

  “Hello,” he said, smiling at her.

  “Hello.” The sunshine bounced off her, making her look just as angelic as the first time he had seen her. The bruising on her face was now a distant memory. “Shooting more arrows at me today?”

  “I am. Attempting to, in any case.” He shouldered his bow and glanced at the ground. Not terribly far. He should easily be able to jump down from his seated position.

  “You might need more practice,” she said, leaning forward on her elbows and resting her chin on her hands.

  He should climb down and get his arrow, but he could not take his eyes off her. His heart thundered in his chest for he could not get over the sunshine that seemed to glisten in her eyes.

  “Archery is not my strongest skill.” Embarrassment made him look away, panning over the gardens below though he barely saw what grew there.

  “How did you get the first one up here?”

  This did make him look back at her. “Luck, I do believe.”

  “Luck is a good thing.” She stood, her hands spread on the windowsill to either side of her. “What are you sending me today?”

  “A surprise, of course.”

  A short strand of hair around her face fluttered in the breeze. “Any hints?”

  “No.”

  “Aww.” She grinned at him. “I suppose I should let you get your arrow.”

  “I suppose so.” He lowered himself into the garden, landing with a crunch on a leafy green plant he did not recognize. “Sorry,” he called up.

  “That is all right,” she called down. “I cannot stand the taste of those.”

  This made him laugh. “Should I step on more, then?”

  She giggled. “I could tell her a wild cat stomped all over them.”

  He glanced at the crushed green plants. “Should I growl while I stomp?” He did his best imitation of a mountain lion.

  A peel of laughter exploded from her, as beautiful as her singing voice.

  “Roar, roar!” he cried, holding his foot up to stamp on another of the leafy green vegetables.

  As she laughed, she leaned her head against the window sill. “Mother would never believe it…” She stiffened, standing upright again, her posture rigid.

  “I suppose I must be careful then.” He made a point to step around the rest of the vegetables and onto the main walkway, where his arrow had fallen.

  He scooped it up. “Does your mother have a temper?” He used one hand to shield the sun from his eyes as he looked back at her.

  She leaned forward, her arms out and hands clenched together. “Yes, she does.” Her voice was not as loud as it had been. He barely heard the words.

  “She strikes you.” He did not yell, and wondered if she heard him. By her expression, he knew she had and felt like an ass for saying that aloud.

  She stared at him, not moving for what felt an eternity, before slowly nodding her head.

  Nick took a deep breath to steady himself. He had known. Of course he had, but seeing her acknowledge the fact sent a chill through his heart. He had to get her out of this tower.

  He pulled the bow off his shoulder and picked up the arrow. “I am going to shoot
now.”

  “All right,” she said and ducked inside.

  This time, when his arrow flew, its track was true and hit her windowsill.

  She popped her head out. “You did it!” She grinned as she pulled the small package off the arrow.

  He stood there, mesmerized by her graceful movements as she removed the package and the grin that spread over her face. Initially his plan had been to not see her at all. Send the arrow up. Ride away. Yet he was glad he had missed the first time. He had spoken to her. He had seen her smile.

  She had been so tentative before. Perhaps because he had been up there in the tower with her? He might need to rethink his plan, maybe visit her more like this–just talking to her from the ground. She seemed much warmer to him.

  “Would you like to come up?” she asked, jarring him from his thoughts.

  “I would,” he said, “but I have to return home. I have a few things I need to take care of today.”

  It was not exactly a lie, for he always had things that needed to be done. His father had given him a few tenant farms to care for. Since Nick would eventually inherit the entire province, his father wanted him to have some experience in handling the farms. Still, there was not anything he could not delay. He could have gone up but did not want to lose any ground with Rapunzel. He would trust his instincts over his desires.

  “Oh.” If he was not mistaken, she sounded slightly sad. “Well, come back when you have time.”

  He smiled, wanting to dance at the invitation. “I will.”

  He walked to the gate and pushed it open, pausing to turn and look at her. She had already opened the package and held the raven feather, tilting it to and fro in the sunlight.

  “Good day, Rapunzel,” he called to her.

  “Good day,” she said, “and thank you.” She waved the feather.

  “You are welcome.”

  Chapter 17

  “I wish to help you down from this tower, if you choose to leave,” Nick said as he warmed his hands over the hearth.

  “This is my home,” I said, pulling the shawl tighter around me.

  The weather had cooled this evening–though it was rather late in the season for a cold snap–and I hoped our vegetables would be all right. Still, the night birds sang their evening songs, and the sky was dark and clear and dotted with stars.

  Nick had arrived not long ago, to my great surprise and, dare I admit it, joy. I had heard the gate open and when I reached the window he was below, waving. This time I was not afraid of him.

  Mother’s warning still nagged in the back of my mind, but I kept remembering the lightning bugs. She had been wrong about them. As I watched Nick put a new piece of wood on the fire, then stoke it, I wondered how much more Mother was wrong about. Surely, if Nick were here to harm me he would not be tending my fireplace?

  He had had ample chances and had not done it.

  He turned to look at me. “Rapunzel, do you wish to leave this tower?”

  I nodded. “Of course I do. To walk in the world, to feel the grass under my feet? That seems a most joyous experience. To dance in a stream, to feel wet sand in my fingers. All experiences I wish to have.”

  “Then come with me.”

  “I cannot. There are such horrors in the world. Bandits, robbers, evil beings who will hurt me, or worse.” I took a few steps toward the window. “I cannot go down there. My hair alone would render me helpless.” As if to punctuate my words, the bundle of hair I had piled on the bed hit the floor with a loud thud, jerking me to the side, and I fell into the bed. Sighing, I kicked the bundle, loosening the tight pull on my head.

  I could not begin to imagine trying to run with my hair hanging behind my head.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, crossing the room.

  I shook my head, then nodded. “I am fine. This hair can be a burden.” I kicked at one of the braids with my toe.

  He came a little closer, taking a seat on the floor near the now knotted rope of hair.

  “The world is not horrible.” Nick grabbed my braids and started coiling them in a neat pile.

  “Of course it is. Mother told me of the wars between the provinces, the bandits and marauders in the woods, how they would as quickly kill as help you.”

  I could not help watching the way he neatly worked through a tangle of the braids, as though he had done it all his life.

  “The Great Wars are over,” Nick said. “They have been for a good many years now. The king’s seat is secure, and he takes great pains to make sure the White Mountains are safe.”

  I did not want to believe his words, so I stared at his hands as he meticulously worked with my hair so as not to inhibit my movement. The sight flabbergasted me. “But not here. Not in the Black Forest. Here is where the awful life, the horrible–”

  “You have lived here your entire life. Have you ever seen anyone in the woods before me?” He ran his hands over the braids as he finished.

  I could not take my eyes off the braids. It seemed such a silly thing, to be mesmerized by him fixing my hair for me, but it stunned me all the same. Mother had never helped me. She had never taken the time. My hair had always been my burden to care for, to move around and live with. I found I could not catch my breath.

  Nick continued as if he did not realize the thoughts flying around in my head. “Great pains have been taken to keep bad people from inhabiting these woods. By all the owners of the provinces around the Black Forest. Even the king sends soldiers to inspect the area regularly.”

  That was so different from anything Mother had told me. I wanted to believe him, yet I could hear Mother’s voice in my head.

  Charlatans will tell you exactly what you want to hear, instead of the truth, to sway you to their cause.

  I knew not what to believe. My heart, or what I had always been told.

  “You have seen others in the woods?” he asked, making minute adjustments to the pile of hair.

  “No.”

  “No, you have not seen others?”

  I shook my head. “You are the first person I have ever seen in the woods.”

  “Do you believe that I am dangerous?”

  I looked into his eyes, then at the perfect pile of hair, then back at him. “I know not,” I replied, the most honest answer I could come up with.

  Nick nodded and did not quite look at me when he spoke. “Then perhaps I should go.”

  No, my heart cried out, yet I could not articulate the words. “If you feel you should.”

  Nick rocked onto his feet, though he still knelt on the floor. “The last thing I want is for you to be terrified of me. Is there any way I can convince you of my sincerity?”

  I shrugged, unsure what to say. My heart wanted me to tell him to stay, or at least promise to come back, but my mouth would not move.

  “I see.” Nick stood, adjusting his cloak around him. He stared at me for a moment, and his eyes were dark and deep.

  I do not want you to go.

  Nick walked across the room to the window, and glanced back at me. “Rapunzel?”

  I leaped off the bed, hoping beyond hope he would not leave. “I…”

  “I need your hair.”

  My shoulders dropped and I took a few steps toward him, my hair uncoiling perfectly behind me. “Of course.” I reached down to grab part of the braid to start lowering the hair out the window.

  Nick touched my hand. “Do you want me to come back, Rapunzel?” His hand was hot against mine, and goose bumps stood all over my body. His breath caressed my cheek and it was only then I realized how close I was to him. I twisted but only managed to bump into his hard chest. My heart raced.

  When I met his gaze, I could feel the heat there. I licked my lips nervously. His eyes darted down, ever so slightly, and again, his stare felt like a physical caress over my skin.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Please come back.”

  Nick smiled. “I will.”

  Chapter 18

  Castle Hohburg’s marketplace bu
rst with activity. The tents and small buildings bustled with merchants calling to passersby, declaring the wonders of their wares. Ripe vegetables shone on their tables like bright flowers. The scent of warm, fresh bread floated in the air as the bakers carried their full baskets to entice buyers. Even children wandered around, trying to sneak a piece of fruit off a cart.

  Nick smiled. He had always enjoyed the marketplace. As a boy, he ran among the buildings himself, playing with Bryan and Penn, weaving in and out of the patrons. The gates to the castle remained opened, so anyone from the town just outside could come and go as they pleased, buying, selling and trading with the merchants. Keeping the marketplace safe was the only use for the soldiers stationed here these days. And the marketplace was still a wonderful place to hide.

  Nick had plenty to hide from. His mother had not eased her pressure for him to marry, and none of the marriage-minded ladies had left the castle yet.

  Nick headed through the stalls, watching the people he passed. It was easy to see who was there to be seen and who was there to buy. The number of people he recognized made him smile, as well as how generally happy everyone was. Or maybe it only seemed that way because he was happy. Even Kiki’s friends did not bother him as much as they usually did.

  Rapunzel was warming to him. He had suspected it when she had smilingly teased his pathetic arrow-shooting skills. Then yesterday, she had said he could come back. He was not sure why that lifted his heart as much as it did, except that his desire to return was powerful inside him. While he wanted to go back right now, this instant, he forced himself to wait. Logic told him that going slowly would help her trust him.

  Or so he hoped.

  Whether it would help or hurt him, he could not be certain. She needed time to let his words sink in, to believe he spoke the truth. It frustrated him that her mother used terror to keep Rapunzel trapped in the tower. For that kept her there–he could see it as they had talked. She feared what could happen to her outside the tower. She feared attempting to navigate the world burdened as she was by her hair. The long locks he had coiled were sleek and lovely to be sure but they were, in truth, a chain. A beautiful one, but a chain nonetheless.