The ash trees, though slender, had supported my weight once before. Determined to climb to the top of the tower and silence the frightening questions racing through my mind, I hooked my fingers over the sturdiest looking branch I could find and hoisted myself up. It was not too difficult to scale the trunk.
Balanced carefully in the branches, I leaned over to grab the balcony and look inside. I nearly fell out of the tree. Rapunzel was there. She was not alone.
A nightmare. It had to be a nightmare, some twisted construct of my imagination.
A man was on top of her. The pale skin of his naked back burned into my eyes. Hips pumping and thrusting in a jagged rhythm, his head was thrown back, eyes closed, blonde hair tossing as he moved. I realized that I was crying when I felt hot tears streaming down my cheeks.
It was disgusting. My head spun and I wanted to vomit. My hands clenched tighter and tighter around the slender branches of the ash tree, wishing they were his throat. Then he said her name. Her name… my heart cracked and I wept all the harder.
I could not watch it anymore. It was done. I hated him. I hated myself. I hated the Maker for forcing such a vile, unnatural image on me. The broken pieces of my heart sank to the bottom of my chest and I realized that I would carry that image with me for the rest of my life.
As I reached for the lower branches and began to climb back down, the trunk of the ash tree swayed, leaves rustling. Below him, I saw her jerk as she looked towards the noise, towards me. Our eyes met and locked, her perfect, pink mouth forming an ‘o’ of surprise. Color bled into her pale cheeks. She screamed. He stopped moving and looked as well.
I have no idea why I climbed onto the small balcony of the tower. I wanted to leave, to run as far and as fast as the winds took me. Twenty-three years. Twenty-three years I had waited for this moment, for this woman. He had stolen it. He had stolen it and I hated him.
For the first and only time in my life, I wondered if my mother had been right to lock Rapunzel away from the world. She should have been mine. She should have been kept safe for me… for me only.
I did not realize that I was speaking aloud, screaming, until I felt her hand on my cheek. She was touching me for the first time in a year, her face a painting of surprise and confusion, as though she was staring at a ghost. I shuddered; jerked my face away. She had betrayed me. I did not want her touch anymore.
He stood there, stupid as stone, not even bothering to cover his manhood. The sight of it, of him, sickened me and I trembled with rage. My mother would have killed him. My mother would have cut off his hands. That was a punishment fit for a thief. I could always adapt it to suit the circumstances and cut off something else.
He must have read my murderous intentions in my eyes, or I was still shouting my thoughts aloud, because he shoved me aside and leapt, naked as a dog, over the side of the balcony and into the tree I had just vacated. He practically slid down the trunk because it refused to bear his weight, and I hoped every twig peeled off skin on the descent.
That left me alone with her, my Rapunzel. But no longer mine, not anymore. She was speaking, but my ears were filled with the loud, wordless roar of anger. I watched her lips move, mesmerized and furious, still shaking terribly and crying a river of tears. They coated my cheeks and chin, running down because I did not bother to wipe them away.
“Ailynn…”
“Don’t…” My voice broke. I swallowed against the burning dryness in my throat.
I gripped the hair at the back of her neck, dragging her head forward and taking her lips with mine. The kiss was hard, bruising, possessive. She melted under my touch, falling into my arms, quivering with what could have been pain or fear or love – I had no idea anymore.
“I hate you,” I whispered, biting the plump curve of her lower lip with my teeth, tasting the tang of blood. She flinched against my chest, but did not pull away.
“As long as you feel something.”
I felt… I felt too much. Those eyes. Her face.
I turned her around and shoved her in the middle of her back, sending her sprawling onto the bed stomach-first, unable to look at her. I tore off my clothes, ripping the fabric, but she did not turn. She held completely still, waiting for a kiss, a blow, something. I hated her for making me love her. I wanted back the piece of me that she had stolen. I raked my nails down her back, tearing overheated skin and not caring. She whimpered as my breasts pressed into her shoulder blades, pushing her down into the mattress.
I took her throat in my teeth and nipped the white, unblemished skin, making her gasp and mewl like a kitten. I would leave my mark on her, the woman that should have been mine. As my lips claimed her throat, my fingers claimed the rest, thrusting inside of her with one rough stroke, remembering every touch I had seen him give her through that window.
“I wasn’t good enough to wait for… am I good enough now?” I tried to hurt her, I wanted to hurt her, but though I handled her roughly, I could not cause her any real pain. Something in my heart blocked me from satisfying that fearsome urge.
“Ailynn…”
I hated the way Rapunzel’s hips moved against me, the way her warmth spilled over my hand, the way her wetness clutched my fingers. I hated that I wanted her, that she wanted me, that she was taking pleasure while I released my anger. But I could not continue touching her in anger. I loved her.
My hand slid underneath her torso, caressing a breast, twisting its peak hard enough to make her draw in a short, sharp breath, her body bucking violently beneath mine.
“Tell me.” I recognized my own voice, but not the command. What did I want her to tell me? Clear gloss traveled down her legs, coating my thigh as I pressed tighter against her.
“I love you. I’m yours.”
My heart stopped.
“Tell me again.”
“I love you, Ailynn. I’m yours.”
Drowning. I was drowning. I thought I felt the pain of my heart breaking all over again. Or was it mending? I did not care. Shockwaves rippled through my entire body, radiating from the aching pool between my legs to the very tips of my fingers and toes. I wrapped my fingers in her hair, feeling the silk of it, noticing with surprise that it was only to her shoulders, but dismissing it immediately.
Mine. I floated in the sensation, soaked in the pleasure of owning this woman. I would make her forget. Erase him from her memory and sear myself into her until she could not part herself from me.
Her face. Before, I had not been able to look. Now, I wanted her eyes. I wanted her to see my face whenever the lids closed. I flipped her over easily, tossing her like a rag doll and climbing over her, settling myself tightly in the ‘v’ of her thighs and grabbing the backs of her knees, wrapping her legs around my waist. My fingers thrust back inside, gentler this time, as I kissed her breath away, making sure that her eyes were open so that she could see and remember exactly who was making love to her.
“Ailynn…” she whimpered, but I refused to give in to her, swirling the pad of my thumb around the throbbing bundle of nerves without stroking its tip. I increased the speed of my hand, using my thigh to press harder against her, deeper inside of her.
Her body went rigid as her release came crashing down. She clung to me as though I was her only tie to the world, her small, soft hands leaving grip-marks on my shoulders. Her hips stopped their rolling motion as she panted heavily against my neck, her face buried in the curve of my shoulder. Our hearts beat together.
She looked up at me, lips curved in a wide, relaxed smile, eyes bright and shining. It was a truthful face, overflowing with love and joy. “I never loved him. I love you.”
I buried my face in her hair and cried, allowing her to cradle me in her warm arms and stroke my back. There would be time for explanations later. For now, I lost myself to the love and wonder of being with Rapunzel again. I would not be foolish enough to lose her a second time.
…
Chapter Five:
I was not sure how long we lay there toget
her, just breathing, just being. A large part of me was overjoyed to see Rapunzel again, amazed that she was finally here, solid and real, in my arms. But I was still haunted by what I had seen. It burrowed into my mind like a parasite, eating away at me from the inside out and leaving me hollow.
“Why?” I asked, the lonely word hanging above us in the silence and stillness. I loosened my grip on Rapunzel’s naked form and she turned to look at me, refusing to let me pull away.
“I had to find a way out,” she said, pushing back a lock of brown hair that clung to my cheek and tucking it behind my ear. The tender gesture almost made me break into a fresh round of tears, but I swallowed them back. “I thought if Byron…”
Byron. The image of a small blonde boy with a turned-up nose came flooding back to me. The memories stung. Him? How had he even found her after all these years? Why had Rapunzel chosen him over me? “What?” I whispered, feeling empty. “What about him made you… Why couldn’t I…” Hard as I tried, I could not form sentences. The questions were a painful tangle in my mind and I could not pick out the knots.
“I thought you were dead.” The quiet statement stole the breath from my chest. Rapunzel thought that I was dead?
“What on earth made you think that?” I asked, unsure whether to be surprised or angry. Even if I had died, it hurt to know that Rapunzel had let go of my memory so quickly. Had I meant anything at all to her? Did she still feel something for me? I knew that I still loved her, as much as I wanted to deny it. I wondered if returning had been a mistake. Maybe I should have left her for Byron. She might have been better off that way…
“Mother Gothel told me. Ailynn, she’s… gotten worse…”
I squeezed my eyes shut, tears leaking out despite my best attempts to hold them back. I did not want to know what was happening with my mother. I would deal with her as little as possible. She had lost my respect and trust long ago. I still felt guilty for leaving Rapunzel, trapped and alone, in her power.
“She told me that you were dead, that you were never coming back,” she continued. “I couldn’t stay in this tower forever. When Byron found this place, I hoped… I hoped I could convince him to buy off Mother Gothel. You know how she is about her treasures. If he offered her enough…”
I swallowed down the lump that had risen in my throat. “So – what I saw… was…”
“Me trying to negotiate for my freedom.” There was a long pause, more melancholy than awkward. “I don’t love him, I never loved him. I’m not proud of letting him… it was not indescribably terrible, but I took no pleasure in it. It was uncomfortable, so I tried to imagine you… You are the only one I ever wanted, Ailynn, I promise.”
I had no idea whether this made things better or worse. I was relieved that Rapunzel still loved me, but disgusted at the means she had used to try and secure her freedom.
But could I blame her? If I was locked away in a tower with almost no hope of escape, and believed my love and only possible savior was dead… The logical part of me understood that Rapunzel had seen a chance and taken it, but my heart… My heart did not understand at all, and I was still deeply hurt and betrayed. I also felt pain for Rapunzel. It must have been terrible, waiting in the same room day after day, knowing that she might have to spend the rest of her life here. Just the thought was almost enough to drive a person insane. Lying with Byron was probably also horrible.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I mumbled in a confusing, sensitive mess of words and feelings. I had no idea what to think or what to do.
Rapunzel cupped my cheeks with her small hands and kissed me with a light, soft brushing of lips. It was a contrast to my violent taking of her, which I was beginning to feel guilty for instigating. “Don’t do anything. Don’t think about the future. Just tell me that now, in this moment, while we are alone together and there is no one else to come between us – tell me that you love me.”
“I love you,” I told her, and it was the truth. But I did not know if love would be enough. I kissed her. Properly this time, as gently as I could. A year’s worth of pain, worries, and tension drained out of Rapunzel’s body, leaving her limp. Her cheeks were wet, but this time I knew that she was crying tears of happiness. In that moment, looking in to each other’s eyes, our souls recognized each other.
She loved me. It was enough.
Cautiously, my hand caressed her bare side, amazed at the warmth of her body and the softness of her skin. Even though her appearance had not changed much during my absence, there was something different about her. Cate was right, I reflected. While I was gone, Rapunzel had become a woman.
“I want to spend time getting to know you again,” I whispered.
As always, Rapunzel was in tune with my thoughts and fears. “Oh, Ailynn… please don’t be afraid. We aren’t children anymore, but my feelings haven’t changed.”
“What do you dream of?” I asked her. “What do you want for your future?”
“I want to see places,” she confessed shyly, almost embarrassed by the admission. “I have always wanted to visit Kalmarin, the city of white cliffs. I want to draw all the plants, animals, and people of the world.”
I raised my eyebrows, surprised. “You want to draw them?” I repeated, making sure I had heard her correctly.
“Yes.” She shifted beside me, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. I could not help admiring her retreating form as she walked over to the writing desk where I had left my goodbye note. Her figure was rounder, fuller, with a slight curve to her belly, which I found strangely attractive. It had been over a year since I had left. That day seemed a lifetime ago now. Holding something in her hands, she turned around to face me. “Here, look,” she said, holding out several loosely bound sheets of paper.
I took them from her and examined the first page, surprised to see my own face staring back at me. The detail with which she had sketched out my features was amazing. Carefully, I turned to the next page. Another drawing of me, all of my body this time and there was a forest background behind my figure. My heart stuttered.
I flipped through the pages eagerly, unable to stop myself. There were a few other drawings – a butterfly, a sunset, and some landscapes. Aside from them, the entire collection featured me. “These are amazing,” I breathed in wonder. “I can’t believe you drew all of these.”
Rapunzel gripped one elbow awkwardly, embarrassed by the praise. “I didn’t want to forget your face. I was so terrified of that… I had nightmares about it.” She blushed.
“There are, um, more drawings on the bottom of the stack.”
Curious, I turned to the last few drawings, my mouth falling open. These pictures were also of me, but they were clearly not from any memories of our shared past. Me – unclothed, posed on my side and smiling. Me – sleeping, sheets tangled around my ankles, revealing everything. Me straddling Rapunzel, holding her wrists over her head as my hand worked between her legs. It was the first time Rapunzel had appeared in her own drawings. She was in the next one, too, with her head buried between my thighs. I looked at image after image of us laughing, touching, making love. It was beautiful.
“Oh my.” I blushed, embarrassed by my own surprised exclamation and acutely aware of the fact that both of us were still naked. That embarrassment quickly transformed into something else. I was sitting in bed, naked, with the woman I loved only a few feet away from me, and I was looking at drawings? Wonderful, fabulous, beautiful drawings, but nevertheless… Oh my, indeed.
Shyly, I snuck a glance at Rapunzel, who was staring at me with a longing expression on her sweet face. Although I knew that it was not a good idea – what we had already done was not a good idea – I could not say no to her. Not now, when we were finally together again. Not when we loved each other, wanted each other so desperately. The rest of the painful discussions and soul-searching could wait. It would take time to repair the damage that had been done, but for now, there was only us.
I opened my arms, welco
ming her as she slid gratefully into them, her clever fingers weaving in my hair and pulling me into an eager kiss. “I love you,” she murmured over and over against my lips. Each time she said those words, a tiny part of my broken heart began to heal.
Our mouths collided in another urgent kiss, one that quickly spiraled beyond our control. As our lips played together in an endless game of tease and taste, my hands explored the soft, smooth landscape of her back, every caress an exciting new discovery. I memorized every inch of skin I could reach. With my hands over her hips, I pulled her on top of me, letting her straddle my waist. I gasped as a pleasant warmth pressed against my lower belly.
Rapunzel was on top of me, but her shuddering breaths and half-closed eyes revealed that she felt as nervous and unsteady as I did. Wordlessly seeking permission, she traced the curve of my breasts, seemingly in awe. Her curious, hesitant touch was too frightening, too powerful. I pushed her away. She was disappointed until I cupped a hand between our bodies, finding her with my fingers. I smiled, the proof of her desire coating my hand, spilling over my fingers and filling me with pride.
Struggling for balance, Rapunzel was forced to lean back. Locking her arms and using them to stay upright, she hovered over my stomach, rocking urgently against my hand and setting a much faster rhythm than I expected. This was an exorcism, I realized as two of my fingers probed forward, swallowed by a heated silken glove. Just as I had tried to claim Rapunzel roughly before, wanting to drive out the memories of Byron’s touch with every thrust inside of her, she was reclaiming herself with each tilt of her hips.
For the moment, the painful memory was eclipsed by pleasure and love. Seeing my Tuathe taking her pleasure from me, giving herself to me, was breathtaking. I could think of nothing else. Nothing else mattered. Watching Rapunzel impale herself over and over again on my fingers made my heart skip and my mouth go dry. She was beautiful, her hair streaming in a golden river between her shoulder blades, halfway to her hips already even though it had been trimmed to her shoulders before. With her chin tilted back, I could see the curve of her white throat and the purple shadow that pooled in the dip of her collarbone.
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