Chapter Text
She didn’t mean to.
She really, really didn’t.
But Rapunzel had been so angry, and Mother’s knife had been, just– there. And before she’d thought better of it, she’d followed through on her impulsive threat and now–
–Now Mother would never take her to see the lanterns.
Rapunzel crumpled to the floor beside Mother’s empty dress, sobbing.
She stayed there, a new wave of tears overtaking her each time she tried to stand, until finally hunger drove her to do more.
She tried to avoid looking at the dress and the dust that had been Mother just earlier that day.
She hadn’t known. She really hadn’t. If Mother had only told her that Rapunzel cutting her hair would do– do that, she never would have!
Ever.
Ever.
But now it was too late.
And Rapunzel didn’t know how to–
Well, how to do anything.
She could cook. But what happened when the food stores ran low? She would have to leave.
“There has to be a way out of the tower, right, Pascal?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “Mother brought me here when I was little. She couldn’t have climbed my hair then.”
Pascal nodded, and somehow, his little lizardy smile and the way he clutched her finger made everything a little less bad.
Rapunzel lifted him to her face and kissed his head. “Okay. You’ll help me find the way out?”
Pascal nodded again and chirped at her.
Rapunzel giggled and wiped her face. “Thank you.”
It wasn’t so bad outside, actually.
Rapunzel kept a smile on her face as she trotted along the path that Mother must have walked a hundred times. And, look, there was a building!
“The Snuggly Duckling,” she read aloud. “Look, Pascal! I know Mother said the world is full of horrible people, but there must be some nice ones too, like her! I bet anyone who goes to a place called The Snuggly Duckling is the good sort of people.”
Pascal chirped and gave her a thumbs-up.
With his encouragement, Rapunzel trotted up to the door and peeked inside.
So many people!
A knife slammed into the wall nearby, followed by a gruff, “Watch it, little lady!”
“Hey!” another gruff voice snapped. “It’s only a kid!”
Rapunzel shrank back as suddenly, too many gazes to count were all pointed at her. On her shoulder, Pascal puffed up as if he could defend her.
A huge man wearing a horned helmet and a scowl disengaged from the crowd and approached Rapunzel. She took a step back.
The man produced a tiny unicorn from somewhere and held it out.
Rapunzel swallowed and hesitantly took the unicorn.
The man’s scowl stretched into a smile.
“Well, if Vlad likes her,” she heard someone say.
“The guards definitely aren’t employing little girls,” someone else said.
“I’m not little,” Rapunzel protested. “I’m thirteen.”
“Much littler than any of us,” a young man with a big nose replied. He offered her a snaggletoothed smile. “You running away too?”
“How did you know?”
“All the runaways end up at the Duckling eventually!” declared a balding man with a hook for a hand. “You can call me Hook Hand, little lady.” He offered the non-hook hand. “Welcome to the Snuggly Duckling.”
Rapunzel took his hand and shook it, just like people were always doing in books. “I’m Rapunzel. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” She smiled at Hook Hand, then, for good measure, at everyone else.
Even the stern, scowly ones looked a little nicer now.
She’d been right.
The good sort of people went to the Snuggly Duckling.
They even took her to see the birthday lights!