The Rescue

“Rapunzel! Rapunzel, let down your hair to me!”

Mother’s words were faint, though she shouted as loudly as she could. The birds in the trees surrounding the tower sang all through the day, so nothing but their wonderful songs could be heard.

Rapunzel leaned her head out of the window. “Yes, Mother!”

Yards and yards of golden hair littered the floor of her bedroom. It was knotted, as always, and full of dirt and leaves. Nevertheless, Rapunzel lifted it into her arms and flung it from the window.

A painful tug let her know that Mother was climbing up, so she waited patiently, holding the top section of her hair tightly, until Mother would appear at the window.

The tower had been Rapunzel’s home all her life, and it was wonderful. Rapunzel enjoyed the familiarity, the safety it provided. She hadn't been away from her tower for months, and was much happier by herself, than in the busy towns. Mother, on the other hand, had to leave every few days to buy them food, and to ensure nothing was wrong in the outside world. Rapunzel, of course, always helped out in the garden below.

Rapunzel’s head ached more than usual when assisting Mother in reaching the top of the tower, but she ignored it. Perhaps Mother was bringing more treats? Yes, that must be why.

Rapunzel sat down on a chair beside the window, and closed her eyes tight. The pain would fade, she had to remember. It wouldn't last long, it never did. She liked being helpful, so she never complained about the ache.

A heavy thunk landed beside the window, and the tension on her hair released. She smiled, sighed, and opened her eyes.

And then screamed.

For it was not Mother standing in front of the large window, but a man. A stranger.

Rapunzel immediately leapt from the chair and grabbed the first item she could use as a weapon - a frying pan, left on the table from breakfast. She looked around for something else, but settled on the pan, and held it up high with both hands wrapped around the handle.

“Who are you? Where’s Mother?”

The man chuckled at her, and raised his hands in mock surrender.

“I’ve no idea where your Mother is, I’m simply happy she’s not here right now. You can escape - I'm here to rescue you!”

Rapunzel narrowed her eyes at him. His dark hair was tidy, not a single piece out of place. His clothes fit him well, nothing was ragged or had patches sewn into them like hers. Even his boots were pristine, as if they were newly bought the moment he stepped foot in her tower. She glanced at her own bare feet, scratched up and covered with dirt.

She kept the pan held high. “I said, who are you? What do you want?”

The man slowly lowered his hands. He knelt down, one knee touching the worn wooden floor.

“Forgive me, my Lady. My name is Prince Harold, and I am here to save you from the wicked woman that has kept you locked away. I have searched far and wide for a missing girl, and I believe her to be you.”

A dumbfounded expression came across Rapunzel’s face. Then she laughed.

Prince Harold’s face contorted with confusion. “Is something the matter, my Lady?”

Rapunzel kept laughing and lowered the frying pan, but kept it firmly in one hand. She pulled some hair from under her feet and swept it over her shoulder. “Mother isn’t wicked! And she didn’t lock me up, either, I can leave when I want. I just don’t want to. Ever.”

She kept giggling to herself as she moved across the room, putting some more space between herself and the Prince.

Harold stood. His eyebrows furrowed, then he became frustrated.

“You mean to say, that I’ve spent the last week travelling through marshes and swamps, all to rescue you, and you don’t want to be saved?”

Rapunzel thought he sounded like a child.

“I apologise, Sir, if you thought I needed help, but I assure you I’m perfectly happy where I am. I can come and go as I please, as you may see by my hair.” Rapunzel pointed to the various leaves and twigs caught in her golden locks. “You might notice that there aren’t any trees growing inside the tower.”

Prince Harold was not happy.

“Well, why are you always in here then? Surely, if you had the freedom to go anywhere, you’d be out in the world, not spending your days hidden away in some tower.” He ran a clenched hand through his hair, ruffling it from its perfection.

Rapunzel moved to sit on the edge of her bed. “I don’t need to explain my life to you, Sir. You’ve just broken into my home! If I wish to stay here, then here I shall stay.”

The Prince couldn’t understand what he was hearing.

“You- you don’t want to leave here, and come to live in a palace? Why?” He took several steps closer to her, so Rapunzel waved the frying pan in the space between them.

She huffed at him frustratedly. “Yes, I don’t want to leave. I want you to leave. Now.”

Prince Harold looked from Rapunzel to the window he’d climbed in through. "People don't tell me what to do, I tell them what to do."

A realisation came over him.

“You said you can leave, yes? How? You had to pull me in with your hair, you can’t possibly do that yourself.”

“Of course I can’t, that wouldn’t work! There’s a door over there," she said, then absent mindedly pointed in the direction of a very obvious doorway. "The stairs go all the way to the bottom. Mother needs help sometimes, so I lift her up whenever I can to assist her. If you want, go out down the stairs, but don’t come back.”

Prince Harold looked as if he were in thought for a moment, then smirked at Rapunzel. She stiffened, and gripped the handle tighter.

“There’s just one problem with that.” He took another step closer to her. They were only a few feet apart.

“What?” snapped Rapunzel, as he took another step.

The Prince sucked his teeth, and suddenly lunged at Rapunzel, ripping the frying pan from her hands and tossing it across the room.

“I can’t possibly go home empty-handed, now, can I?”

She shrieked and kicked at him, almost tripping over her own hair as she tried to sprint away.

Prince Harold grabbed her by the hair and began pulling her towards the doorway. Rapunzel yelled out in pain, thrashing around in an attempt to escape.

"LET ME GO!"

Her head burned from the force, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Harold opened the door and shoved her through.

"Don’t you worry. That witch won’t keep you here any more."