This was originally supposed to be for the alternate ending #justwriteit challenge, but I missed my deadline. I thought I'd just finish writing the story though, so here it is. This isn't based on Tangled. I didn't have the heart to do this to those characters. I feel so evil writing this, but it wouldn't get out of my head. Sorry!

The sound of the festivities in the kingdom could be heard from miles away, it seemed. All were so thrilled that the prince had wedded at last. And what a princess, too! Beautiful and kind, with shining blue eyes, a warm smile upon her face, and long locks of golden hair that stretched almost to her feet...

And whose name was Rapunzel.

She had told all those people the story she thought was hers - that her mother had kept her imprisoned in a tower for years, ever since she'd turned twelve. That the prince had found her, and that they had fallen in love. That her mother had found out, and had cut her hair and cast her out in the woods to starve. That when the prince had come to the tower next to help Rapunzel escape, he had found her mother instead. That her mother had sent him falling from the tower, simply by telling him that Rapunzel was gone. That somehow he had survived the ordeal, but that the thorns at the bottom of the tower had successfully pricked away his eyesight. That he had wandered the woods for a long time, searching for Rapunzel, as she lived unhappily in the woods, struggling to survive. That the two of them had eventually found each other, and that Rapunzel's tears had restored the eyesight that her mother had stolen from the prince. That they were here now, together and ready to lead the kingdom that was theirs together.

This story had been met with cheers from the people, gullible fools that they were.

For they had forgotten the most important detail... that Rapunzel's mother, the witch, had not been killed. She was still alive, and she had not been found. No one knew where she was, but she was closer to them than anyone thought.

No one thought much of the woman wearing a brown cloak, standing quietly in a corner. No one saw her or paid attention to her. For after all, there were much more impressive people to see right then. Of course, had anyone with particularly keen vision looked her way, they might have seen a slight blur around the edges of her face, as though it was a mask. And if they were particularly fond of the prince and the princess, they might have taken offense at the fact that the woman's hood was still upon her head, not flung back so that she could see Prince Charles and Princess Rapunzel properly. But more than either of these two things, what would have caught one's attention if they had looked at this woman was easily the expression in her eyes. The eyes were malevolent, angry, not the slightest bit pleased. There was something akin to hatred in her face, and perhaps it was hatred's fiercer cousin. And there was only one person in all the kingdom who was known to feel so about the two young lovers standing on the platform.

The witch was with the people in the square, listening to Rapunzel and her prince.

The witch was still alive, still breathing, and still very much in need of vengeance on Rapunzel and Charles.

"Please welcome your future queen," the prince was now calling to the people. "My wife, Princess Rapunzel!"

This was greeted with roars of delight, thunderous applause, and many hats thrown into the air. The witch, to her surprise and mild consternation, found someone snatching her own hood off her head, flinging it back to reveal her olive skin and her dark, voluminous hair. With a scowl, she summoned it back magically to cover her head once again. With another wave of her hand, she sent the unwary person who had pulled it away stumbling into those nearest him. No one noticed, not even the victim. He simply picked himself up and continued cheering for Prince Charles and Princess Rapunzel. As it was, people were jumping and falling over and picking themselves up again, laughing.

Except the witch.

Except Gothel. She was not cheering or laughing or even smiling. Nor was she scowling anymore, exactly. Instead, she was gazing intensely up at the charming princess whom she had once called daughter.

Gothel allowed herself to stare at Rapunzel. The girl's hair had grown out again since they had last seen one another. Now it was once again long and lustrous, breathtakingly beautiful to behold. But that wasn't what caught Gothel's attention. What she could not look away from was her foster daughter's face.

Rapunzel had always been a pretty girl, and her recent ordeal had not changed that. But it had never been a real beauty; Rapunzel's smile had grown rarer and rarer to see as the years had gone by. The girl had longed to see the world outside her tower, and had spent much time gazing out her window. And without the beautiful smile Gothel had loved to see, Rapunzel had become merely a shadow. Not beautiful. Not attractive. Only a young woman, a young woman entirely made of longing.

Now, instead of the all-too-familiar restlessness that Gothel had grown accustomed to seeing on her face, Rapunzel wore an expression of absolute, pure happiness. She was smiling at her prince, and he was smiling back at her. They were standing there upon that platform, hand in hand and looking as though absolutely nothing could ruin their happiness. There, standing with her true love, dressed in a gown of purest white and smiling happily, Rapunzel was the most beautiful thing Gothel had ever seen...

... and also the ugliest.

Gothel wanted to scream at the sight. She took no pleasure in her foster daughter's happiness. For what no one knew about her - or perhaps what no one would accept - was that she actually did love Rapunzel. She loved Rapunzel with all her heart. The expression upon Rapunzel's face was one she had grown accustomed to feeling, every night when she held her daughter in her arms. She had felt bliss, pure joy, when she was with her daughter. But Rapunzel clearly had not. Rapunzel had never looked this happy with her. She was this happy with someone else.

And resentment and jealousy filled Gothel. They swelled like waves over her heart. They wrapped themselves around her, the only companions she had that were always happy to be with her. They rose up in her mouth like saliva. They tasted sour upon her tongue, like cranberries that refused to be swallowed. How could Rapunzel love another more than her? Hadn't she cared for the girl since she had been but an infant? Hadn't she held her, rocked her, sung lullabies to her? Hadn't she taught her to walk, to read, to write? Hadn't she watched over her as a mother ought to do? Hadn't she held Rapunzel when she cried? Hadn't she kissed the tears away? Hadn't she told her daughter how much she loved her, countless times?

But in spite of all this, Rapunzel had chosen another. She had chosen that mindless prince over Gothel. She had chosen him over her own mother.

But you weren't her mother, a voice whispered in her head. You took her away from her real mother and from her real father. She has never known them. She still thinks that you are her real mother, but you're not. And that is because of you.

Gothel scowled. She didn't have time for self-doubt. I did a deal with her parents. They agreed to my terms. Her father traded her for her mother's life. I gave them the rampion and took their child in return. That was the deal. The price to be paid.

With a quick glance around, she surreptitiously rubbed her face. The veil she was wearing itched incredibly, but she had no choice but to wear it. Rapunzel, traitorous girl that she was, had likely given out a description of her already. No doubt posters of her would be put up throughout the kingdom within days, so that the citizens of the kingdom could easily identify her. So the veil was necessary to hide her face. Though it wasn't quite a traditional veil. Rather, it was a mask that gave her an entirely new face. She looked like someone else completely. Whatever posters of her face were being hung throughout the kingdom, their makers had forgotten to reckon with the fact that she was a witch.

For right then, she was safely anonymous. No one that anyone would give a second glance to. Just another person in the group. Just another civilian in the crowd of people cheering for their Princess Rapunzel.

Though she was not cheering or clapping or even smiling. Even if it earned her suspicion from the townspeople, she would not care in the slightest. She was not going to celebrate for the girl who had renounced her and had been ready to leave her with that prince. Not even if someone held a knife to her throat. For after all, she could easily dispatch anyone who dared hold a knife to her throat. She was a witch, was she not?

A witch out for revenge is a terrible one indeed, and at that moment this description fit Gothel perfectly.

She was not here simply to gaze at Rapunzel and muse over what she had lost. She was here for her vengeance. She was here to revenge herself upon Rapunzel. And when she was done, the girl would be begging her for mercy.

And she would not get it.

"That sniveling girl. That empty-headed prince." Her whisper was unheard by the crowd, as the loud cheers all around her effectively cloaked it. "All hail Her Highness, Princess Rapunzel," she whispered under her breath. "Enjoy it while you can, people of this kingdom and people above. For she will not remain a princess very much longer. Perhaps she will not remain very much longer."

Night was falling swiftly. It was nearing time for her to carry out her plan.

* * *

Rapunzel gazed fondly down at the crowd.

All those years she had spent in her tower, she had never thought that one day she would be the future leader of a kingdom. But here she was, and beside her was her prince. She was standing here beside her true love, and she was finally free to see the world instead of being caged. Finally she could see everything she had dreamed about all those years, everything she had longed for as she stared at the panoramic view from her window in the tower. Finally the world was at her fingertips, and beside her was the one with whom she wanted to see everything it had to offer.

But she still wasn't quite happy, not yet. Because she knew that her mother was still alive. Alive and likely - make that definitely - wanting her blood.

"What is it, Rapunzel?"

Rapunzel turned to look up at her prince. "It's nothing important," she said with a smile. Prince Charles, however, wasn't fooled.

"What's wrong?" he persisted.

Sighing, she gave in. "It's Mother," she said. "Mother Gothel. I don't know where she is or what she's doing or if she knows about... about this."

"Oh." His face darkened considerably at the mention of Gothel. Rapunzel could not exactly blame him. Gothel had knocked him from her tower, and he had lost his eyesight for a time because of her. The only reason he'd gotten it back was because Rapunzel's tears had healed his eyes. Obviously, there was no love lost between him and Gothel. Yet the same could not quite be said for Rapunzel, and both of them knew it.

"Well, we've given out her description," Charles said reassuringly. "She'll not be allowed anywhere near you, I'll see to that."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Rapunzel admitted.

"Then what is?"

Rapunzel thought for a few minutes. It was a question she had carefully avoided thinking about for the past few days. Thinking about Gothel, to her surprise, never made her all that angry. This wasn't to say she was pleased with her mother - far from it. She was angry with her for what she'd done to both her and her prince. She was furious that her mother had thrown her out, and that she had robbed Charles of his eyesight. But at the same time, she felt sad whenever she thought of Gothel. For Rapunzel missed her mother, hard though it was to admit. And she knew that her leaving could not have caused her mother to feel happy. She knew, in her heart, that Gothel loved her. And she also knew that at the center of her heart, where the anger was not... she loved Gothel too.

"It's that..." she began hesitantly. "It's that I... I just feel sad when I think about her. I feel guilty for... for leaving her. She... she did care about me, I know it."

"She might have wanted you, Rapunzel, but I don't think she really loved you," Charles said gently. "Otherwise she would have let you choose which life you wanted."

"It's not that simple," Rapunzel argued.

"She threw you out into the woods. I don't think that she'd do that if she really cared for you."

"She was..." Rapunzel stopped short. Was she defending her mother?

Well, perhaps she was.

"I lived with her for years, Charles," she said softly. "I know what she did to both of us. I'm angry at her, don't get me wrong. It's just.. she's my mother, and I love... I loved... her."

"I understand." His arm went around her shoulders and drew her close, and she felt him gently kiss the top of her head. "I'm honestly amazed that you're holding up as well as you are. You're very strong, Rapunzel. Having your own mother betray you..." He shuddered.

"Well, you're here with me, aren't you?" Rapunzel smiled and wrapped her own arms around her prince's waist. "I don't think I'd be holding up if you hadn't found me."

He smiled, though she didn't see, and squeezed her. "I hope you're happy here. You are, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." Rapunzel nuzzled closer to him, feeling his other arm wrap around her.

It wasn't a lie. She was happy. But she was sad too.

Where are you, Mother? she asked silently. Where are you? And... can you ever forgive me for what I did? Can I ever forgive you for what you did? And can I ever forgive myself?

There was something she hadn't told Charles. It was that she was not only worried about whether Gothel would forgive her or not. It was that she knew, deep in her heart, that she and Gothel were not done. She knew she was going to see her mother again, and she doubted very much that it would go well for her. She would never admit this, not to her prince or to anyone, but she was genuinely scared of her mother now. She, more than almost anyone, knew what Gothel was capable of when she was angry. She had seen her mother's face. She had seen the white, wild fury upon it the day she had accidentally let her and Charles's secret slip. And she had no desire to be on the receiving end of that anger once more.

But she knew she would be.

Wrapped in the arms of her true love, Rapunzel knew she was safe... for now. And only for now.

* * *

The cloaked figure stole down the brightly lit passageway.

Even here, several floors above the banquet hall, music could be heard. The party going on down there was so loud and joyous. After all, their prince had returned and brought a beautiful, kind wife along with him. How could this not be an occasion worth celebrating? And this happened to be incredibly convenient. The hallway was almost entirely deserted. The majority of the people were down there in the banquet hall celebrating.

But one was not, and she was an important one.

After looking carefully up and down the hallway, Gothel threw back her hood. She took several deep breaths, preparing herself for the deed she was ready to carry out. Within her cloak she was carrying two things: a dagger and a vial of poison.

The poison was for Rapunzel. The dagger was for her beloved prince.

There was reason behind it. Well, perhaps reason wasn't quite the right word, for the heart does not listen to reason except on rare occasions, and this was most definitely a matter of the heart. In spite of everything Rapunzel had done to her, Gothel loved her daughter still. Killing her, she felt, would assuage her pain, would give her the revenge that she so deserved to have. But even so, her heart cried out against it. It had taken her some time to convince herself to come here, and even then her heart had begged her to at least have some mercy in the killing. The poison was painless and would give Rapunzel a quick, easy death.

As for her prince...

Gothel had no qualms about killing the prince. She hated him with all her heart and soul. He had stolen her precious girl from her. He had taken Rapunzel's heart away from her, the one to whom it truly belonged. He had wrought such pain, such destruction... and she wanted to see him writhe in front of her. Prince Charles deserved no less. In fact, he probably deserved more. Perhaps she was even being a little too merciful. Say goodbye to your life, princeling, she thought nastily. And say goodbye to your dear princess, for some time. Rest assured Rapunzel will join you, but you will not be together in life.

She crept further down the hallway, huddling against the wall. Though she had made herself invisible with a little magic, she did not wish to walk in the middle of the hallway where her daughter's feet had touched so recently.

Speaking of which. Rapunzel was downstairs, chatting with the current king and queen in a small parlor. She would be up very soon to change for the party that was to occur an hour or so from now. Gothel knew she needed to act fast.

She knew exactly where Rapunzel's room was - it was the room just down the hallway. Gothel had been spying for days now, seeking all the information she needed to successfully carry out her plan. As a result, she was quite knowledgeable about the palace and its occupants. Rapunzel's room was in one of the towers, but it wasn't the highest room there was. Rapunzel had clearly not wished to have a high tower bedroom, as it would have brought back some memories she would rather leave unremembered.

Were they good, Gothel wondered, or were they bad?

"Nonsense," she scolded herself under her breath. "Now is not the time for self-recrimination. The girl deserves death, and death she shall receive. Now hurry, before she returns and you lose your opportunity."

She crept a few steps further, but stopped almost instantly. There were two guards stationed on either side of the newly crowned princess's room.

Gothel let out a quiet, resigned breath. She couldn't say she was surprised. After all, this prince would clearly go to any lengths to make sure that his wife was protected. Guards outside her bedroom were a predictable line of defense. Even when his precious Princess Rapunzel was not even in her room.

However, they could not work against a witch. Gothel knew exactly what to do to get past these guards.

Quietly, she tiptoed along the hallway. She had long since learned how to move soundlessly; the guards had no inkling that there was anyone there, let alone who was there. She could see it in their faces. They looked bored, completely unsuspicious. But she knew they wouldn't leave of their own free will, at least not until the prince or Rapunzel gave them permission. The guards here were all incredibly loyal to the royal family. And Gothel suspected that Rapunzel herself had played a part, or at least provided quite a bit of incentive for these guards. For it was difficult not to take a liking to the kind, gentle, beautiful princess once one had met her.

A sharp pain shot through Gothel's heart at the thought. It took several deep breaths to drive it away.

Swiftly stepping forward, she waved her hand in a slow, circular motion. Then she watched as the guards' eyes grew heavier, as their heads sank onto their shoulders, as they sagged to the floor, as they fell back against the wall...

They were sound asleep, and they would not wake until she lifted the spell.

With that minor inconvenience taken care of, Gothel closed the remaining distance between herself and the door. She stretched out a hand to the handle... and hesitated.

Bedrooms, after all, contain so much of the person they belong to. The clothing they wear. The flowers they may choose to have within it. The paintings, perhaps. She was sure Rapunzel's bedroom would not come as a surprise to her... or maybe it would. After all, how long had her daughter kept that secret from her? Her secret of the prince. If she had successfully kept that, what else might she have hidden from Gothel?

Don't be ridiculous. You don't need to worry about what the girl is hiding from you. She clearly doesn't care for you. You should know that by now. That prince of mongrels stole Rapunzel's heart away from you, and you can never get it back. Now get in there and take your revenge upon the girl.

Slowly but surely, Gothel turned the handle. The door opened easily. Of course it would; this was a palace door after all, and they couldn't allow for the slightest inconvenience. Still, she could and would create some for them. She could not afford for anyone but Rapunzel and her precious prince to enter this room. So she closed the door again and released the handle.

Carefully, she inserted a little magic into the keyhole, just enough that she knew it would be locked to all but herself, Rapunzel, and Charles. Then she turned the handle, and the door opened once more.

Just as slowly as she had performed the spell, she entered the room. Turning, she closed the door behind her. Then she dared to turn around once more and take in her surroundings.

The room was large and bright. The canopy bed was large and comfortable-looking. The window displayed a spectacular view of the kingdom. Gothel strode over to it and gazed out, over the royal gardens to the woods that stretched far beyond her vision. She might have thought she could see the lone peak of a tower stretching above the trees. But she turned away from the window without a sound.

The wardrobe stood near the bed. Its doors were closed, but Gothel could well imagine the wondrous dresses and robes that must reside within it. On the bedside table was a pile of books. Of course there would be; Rapunzel had always been an avid reader. Books had been the one way she could escape her tower and see the world beyond.

But... the books looked incredibly familiar. Yes, there was the one with the folded cover, the one about a kingdom thrown under a sleeping curse. There was the one that had sent bad dreams into Rapunzel's sleep at first, but had enthralled her when she'd grown older. And there... Feathers. Bookmarks. Beautiful-looking stones. A journal with a matted red cover. A comb with a brightly shining handle, imbued with magic. Magic that spared no mercy upon even the slightest tangle in one's hair.

Every present that Gothel had ever given Rapunzel was there on the bedside table.

Gothel found herself staggering, falling against the wall. To her surprise, she felt tears welling up. She sobbed aloud, one small sob heavy with emotion.

Then she sniffed, wiped her eyes fiercely, and turned away from the bedside table. The room fairly spoke out Rapunzel's name to her, and it was a name she did not wish to hear at all. She had to get out of this room, this room that was her daughter's. But first she had to perform her task.

She had learnt, from days of spying, that Rapunzel always took a glass of water before bedtime. The water pitcher was readied hours before, and placed on her bedside table. There it was, right there.

Gothel pulled the vial of poison from her cloak's pocket. Walking straight over to the pitcher, she unscrewed the cap, carefully setting it down upon the table beside the pitcher. Slowly, gently, almost hesitatingly, she tipped the bottle and poured six drops of the blood-red liquid into the water. It dissolved on impact, coloring the water red. The pitcher shuddered. Steam began to rise out of it, compelling Gothel to turn her head away. The blood-colored water was not exactly pleasant to look at either. It made her feel as though it was Rapunzel's blood.

Then it settled. The steam dissipated. Cautiously, Gothel peered into the pitcher. The contents were clear again, betraying no sign of the killer they harbored.

Smiling a satisfied smile, Gothel replaced the lid upon the pitcher and turned toward the door-

"Is Rapunzel there?"

That prince whom she had cursed more than anyone else was there, right there. Gothel was not surprised. This was far from a wholly unexpected scenario to her. With a discreet flick of her hand, she performed her next spell.

"Yes, Your Highness," one of the guards answered.

The prince's footsteps grew loud as he moved straight toward the door.

Quickly, Gothel cast a spell over herself and turned invisible. The prince knocked, waited, then turned the handle and opened the door, looking startled to find no one there.

"Rapunzel?" he repeated uneasily.

Gothel sneered as she watched the prince realize that his ladylove was not, in fact, in her room. "Quite pathetic," she whispered to herself.

With a wave of her hand, the door silently closed behind him. He turned and saw it...

... too late.

Gothel had read several stories, in her time. She had heard tales of people who stabbed others quickly, before drawing their swords free to use upon other people. She had heard tales of people who thrust swords into their friends and enemies alike, tales of even those who thrust swords into themselves. This, however, was unlike any tale she had read about or would ever read about. For this was a killing of revenge, revenge upon the one who had stolen away her daughter, and she knew she had never read a tale telling how one achieved that. But she didn't need to read one. Deep in her heart and soul, she knew exactly what to do.

And so, without fanfare, Gothel pushed her dagger into the prince's back, slowly and mercilessly.

With a cry of pain and terror, the prince sank to his knees. Soon he was incapable of even staying on his knees, and he fell to the ground, lying limply and bleeding so very much blood.

Gothel threw away her invisibility. Kneeling down beside the prince, she gently brushed some hair from his forehead. Recognition flared upon his face, and he tried unsuccessfully to sit up. All he could do was hiss out one hate-filled word.

"You."

"Me," Gothel agreed, smiling cruelly down at him. "You really did underestimate me, didn't you? Did you honestly think that I would just let you two have your happy ending?"

"Monster," he wheezed.

"Ah, that may be true," she whispered, "but tell me this, princeling - who was the one who took Rapunzel away from someone who loved her?"

No need, she thought, for him to know who did it first.

The prince did not answer. His head lolled back. His eyes closed. With a final sigh, life seeped out of him, riding the wave of blood that was still pouring out of him and leaving what would be a permanent mark on the carpet.

* * *

Rapunzel hummed cheerily to herself as she headed up the hallway to her room.

The party was about to start, she knew. And she was ready. Ready to, with her Prince Charles beside her, begin her life as Princess Rapunzel. She was ready to begin her life with her true love, and that began now.

Still humming, she reached her room - and stopped immediately in her tracks.

The guards should have been awake, not fast asleep and snoring. The door should have been shut, not ajar. Clearly something had happened. Apprehensively, Rapunzel pushed the door open and gasped.

The room was quiet, true. Still. But there should not have been a bloody dagger lying upon the floor.

And the body of her beloved prince should not have been lying there in a pool of redness, clearly dead.

"Charles?" Her voice trembled. "Charles!"

Flinging herself down beside him, she pulled his head into her lap. It lolled lifelessly, eyes closed and still. He did not breathe. His body was heavy, and as she desperately turned him over, she saw it.

The stab wound. The blood, still gently oozing its way out.

The presence of death, heavy upon her true love.

"No," Rapunzel wept helplessly. Leaning down, she kissed Charles's forehead. "Please, no." Her tears streamed down her face and onto his. But this time, they held no cure for him, for nothing could bring him back from the darkness he had now entered.

A gasp sounded from behind her. She did not turn. She merely buried her face in Charles's shoulder. Here was where she would stay, embracing her true love. Nothing and no one was going to take her away from him.

"Here, dear," came a gentle voice. "Sweetheart, Rapunzel, drink this. It'll make you feel better."

Blindly she obeyed, letting the unknown person lift her head up and gently pour some water into her mouth. It did seem to bring some clarity to the room. Scrubbing at her eyes, she looked up at her companion. "Thank you-" she began.

And froze.

She didn't know what to do, whether to hug the woman there or to deplore her. Of all the places and times she could have expected Mother Gothel to be, this one was definitely the last.

* * *

Gothel had been prepared for hatred. She had been prepared for Rapunzel to hurl abuse at her before she died. She had been prepared for the girl's rage, the girl's utter loathing that she must, after all, harbor.

She had not been prepared for the depth of hurt that she saw when she looked into Rapunzel's clear blue eyes.

"M-Mother?" Rapunzel whispered.

Only then did Gothel realize that she was not surprised at all by this meeting. She had not made herself invisible, and there was a reason for that. She herself did not know it, only that it existed.

"Yes, Rapunzel," she answered. "I'm here."

She hadn't been prepared for Rapunzel's accusing stare after all.

"You did this," the girl whispered. "You killed him."

Gothel did not attempt to deny it. She merely looked at Rapunzel. And Rapunzel rose to her feet, letting her prince's head fall softly to the floor. Her eyes flashed as she stood tall, finally the equal of her mother.

"Mother, I felt sorry for you!" she cried. "I was angry at you for what you'd done to both of us, but I felt bad because I knew you'd be alone without me. But this... What did you expect to happen when you came here? That I'd just walk away with you once you killed Charles? That I'd leave the life I've only just found, and the people who need me? If you actually thought that, then you don't know me! You don't know me and you never did!

"You're nothing but a witch. Gothel, you're a witch and you hurt people, and I hate you."

"Enough."

Rapunzel fell silent at that one word.

The power and emotion radiating off her mother were so much, she nearly stepped backward. Through the grief and shock she was feeling, she managed to feel fearful.

"Do you know," Gothel asked quietly, "that you owe me both your life and your mother's?"

Rapunzel stared at her. "What are you talking about? What do you mean, I owe you my mother's life? You are my mother!"

"No," Gothel replied. "No, I'm not."

There was a moment of silence. Rapunzel's mouth had not dropped open. Her eyes had not widened. But she stared at Gothel with such confusion and fear and grief in her eyes.

"What do you mean, you're not my mother?"

"I mean I'm not your mother," Gothel said bluntly.

"But... but if you're not my mother, then... then who is? Tell me the truth." Rapunzel's hoarse whisper nevertheless carried an authority that Gothel, despite the situation, was somewhat awed by. Her little girl really had grown up. For some reason, that thought made her want to cry. But she forced herself not to.

Perhaps Rapunzel did deserve to know the truth after all. What did she have to lose, anyway? She had already swallowed the poisoned water. Telling her the truth would not hurt. And Rapunzel had lived her whole life in the dark. Perhaps she should know at last.

So Gothel sighed. "Perhaps I should have told you earlier, Rapunzel," she began. "Your real parents lived very near to me, once. I was growing some rather fine rampion at the time. I cared for my rampion like it was my child - I fed it, watered it, gave it a little magic here and there just to help it along. No one, but no one, could grow rampion the way I could. And that was because I loved my rampion. I loved it. I had never had a child. My parents had died years before. I had no one, no one but the rampion. It was the only thing I had to love.

"Well, your mother looked out of her window one day and saw my rampion. And she liked the looks of it. She thought it would be incredibly delicious. So she decided that she wanted it, and that without it she would most certainly die." Though Gothel's voice and face were weary, a touch of contempt slipped into both. "So her poor husband stole some from my garden, and took it to his wife.

"The woman loved it. So she immediately decided that if she were not allowed to have more, she would most certainly perish. Her husband resisted, but then she did fall seriously ill and he felt he had no choice. He came to steal from my garden again, but he wasn't quite so lucky this time. I happened to be there, and I caught him.

"The poor man. He begged me not to kill him, assuring me that his wife would die without my rampion and that he only wanted to save her. I felt sorry for him, so I relented and allowed him to take my rampion, on the condition that when he and his wife had a child, they would give it to me. I thought that if I was losing a child myself, I was going to gain one in return."

Rapunzel's face paled. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Have you never wondered why I named you Rapunzel? I named you for the rampion that your mother was willing to give you up for."

"No," Rapunzel whispered. "It can't be true..."

"But it is. It is. And you were worth so very much more than rampion, Rapunzel. I took care of you all your years, don't you remember? I loved you."

"But... didn't they... did they... what happened to them?"

"To your parents?" Gothel sniffed. "I presume that your mother is dead at least. I haven't had the chance to revisit that rampion patch in a while." Her face softened, but with sadness. "I miss it, actually. But your father is probably still alive. I assume he's still living in that cottage he and your mother had right by my house."

A torrent of emotions swept over Rapunzel. She had never expected this. She wouldn't have believed Gothel, but for the fact that she knew Gothel didn't lie...

"You said you were my mother."

"I said that because I was." Gothel's voice was soft and sad, and it steadily grew in emotion as she spoke. "Not in blood, perhaps, but I loved you. Listen. I loved you, Rapunzel. You were the person - the someone - who I never had. I truly loved you. But you betrayed me. You chose him over me. How could you, Rapunzel, heartless girl?"

"I'm heartless?" Rapunzel fired back suddenly. "I didn't kill you! I didn't kill someone you loved!"

"No, but you left me all the same!"

"And your revenge for that is to take Charles?"

"He took you from me," Gothel snarled. "He took you, and I hated him. This is exactly what he deserved."

"NO!" Rapunzel suddenly couldn't take any more of this. Her prince was dead. Her foster mother stood there, the killer of her beloved. And what Gothel had just said was beyond evil - it was indescribable. A wave of fury swelled up within her. She lunged forward, hands clawing out, not caring if magic was about to send her flying or hurt her. All she wanted was to hurt Gothel, to gain revenge for her foster mother's deed.

Needless to say, she didn't succeed. Gothel, with a wave of her hand, pinned Rapunzel's arms to her sides and her legs together. Rapunzel fell to her knees beside the limp form of Prince Charles. Looking up, she shot her foster mother a venomous glance.

But Gothel didn't return it. Instead, she spoke.

"Rapunzel, I well understand the pain you are going through right now. I lost my parents when I was young. I lost my first child, my rampion. And then I lost you, and you were the most painful loss of all. Because you left me of your own free will, because that swine on the floor beside you there convinced you to leave. He didn't consider me. You didn't consider me. No, I was just the mother, the one whom you could abandon easily without even a goodbye. You have no idea of that kind of pain, girl, and let me tell you that it is a hundredfold - perhaps even a thousandfold - times more painful than what you are experiencing.

"Your prince didn't leave of his own free will. But imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like for you if he had. If he had left you without a goodbye. Imagine it."

Rapunzel opened her mouth... and stopped. For she was obeying her foster mother's command.

What if Charles had wanted to leave her? What if he had chosen someone else over her, had walked away from her without a goodbye or even a slight qualm of conscience? What if he had, and she had been left with absolutely no one in the world? What would she have done then? Who would she have turned to?

She looked down at Charles's face. His eyes were closed. Blood still trickled from the wound, but his face was peaceful, even... calm. He did not look the slightest bit upset that he had left her.

What if this had been true, but he had been alive? What would she have done then? What was she to do now, with no one to love her? Or perhaps there was someone after all. Someone who had loved her through it all.

And as she looked up at the woman above her, she realized something.

Gothel had been trapped too. She had clung to Rapunzel as her only love, as the only person she would and could ever have. And when Rapunzel had gone, when Gothel had thrown her out, Gothel had been left all alone with nothing and no one who loved her. If Rapunzel had had to go through something like that, if she had been abandoned by the only one she had ever loved, could she perhaps have had the stomach to murder the one her loved one had chosen in cold blood like this?

She didn't know, and didn't care to know. In truth, she was afraid to know.

"Mother..." she whispered.

Gothel sighed and turned away. "Rapunzel, I'm not like you," she said softly. "I'm not kind. I'm not sweet. I'm not beautiful. I am merely vengeful."

And Rapunzel, at that moment, felt a strange faintness spreading through her body. Startled, she tried to stand up, but flopped back onto the floor beside her dead husband. Desperately, she tried to stay sitting, but fell face first onto the ground again...

And then she noticed the glass, sitting a few feet away from her.

"What have you done to me?!" she gasped.

"Goodbye, Rapunzel." Gothel knelt beside her and took her hand. "I have poisoned you. Now look at me, call me a villain. I will not argue with you."

Rapunzel lay there, stunned. She barely felt herself being pulled gently into Gothel's lap. She barely felt it as her foster mother leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. But as she looked up at Gothel, sick, tired, scared, she saw...

Gothel loved her. Gothel truly did love her, in spite of everything.

And so, instead of abusing her foster mother, Rapunzel instead chose to speak a truth that she had only just discovered within her heart.

"I - I love you, Mother."

A gasp. A cry. And then Mother Gothel's nose was an inch from her own, eyes wide, lips parted, and... were those tears on her face?

"What?" she whispered.

"You heard me," Rapunzel whispered back. "I love you. I don't know why I do, but I do. I'm sorry for everything you had to endure. I'm sorry I was going to leave you without a goodbye. I'm sorry for everything. I'm furious with you for what you've done, and I can't ever forgive you for it, but I'm sorry too, Mother. And you are... my mother..."

Her voice was growing steadily more ragged. She had seconds left to her before she slipped away to rejoin her beloved.

"No," Gothel murmured, the tears really streaming down her face now. "You can't, you can't..."

"I... I do..."

"Rapunzel, no." Gothel sobbed aloud. "Please, no, Rapunzel. Don't leave me. Stay here. Just - just hold on - I can find an antidote to this-"

"Stop it, Mother. It's... too late... you and I both know that." Rapunzel's head lolled on Gothel's lap, her eyelids fluttering closed.

"No!" Gothel wept, leaning down to press her forehead against that of the young woman who was her daughter. "No, no, no... what have I done?"

"Mother..."

"I'm so sorry, Rapunzel." Gothel's tears soaked into Rapunzel's hair, which was spread out on the floor beside them. "I promised your father I'd take care of you... and look what I've done... I've killed you. I've never been a mother to you, Rapunzel. You've had no mother all these years. You deserved so much better..."

"Mother, please-"

"Don't go, Rapunzel!"

"I love you, Mother..."

Rapunzel's eyelids stopped fluttering. Her hand, which had found Gothel's, went limp. Her chest rose and fell one more time, and then was still. Gothel kissed her daughter's forehead desperately, but Rapunzel did not react. And when she pressed her fingers against her daughter's heart, she felt nothing.

Rapunzel was gone. Gone for good. And it was all Mother Gothel's fault.

Her scream tore through the night on wings of fire.

* * *

When the guards flung open the door, they found no spell holding it back.

They saw the body of Prince Charles, covered with blood.

They saw the body of Princess Rapunzel, peaceful and still, golden locks spread over the floor.

And they saw an open window, through which a cold breeze blew. 

* * *

The funerals, conducted a mere week or so after the celebrations of the marriage between Prince Charles and Princess Rapunzel, were as packed as the celebrations had been. But this time, there was no cheering. There was no laughter. There were no hats thrown into the air or people dancing for sheer joy.

There was only sadness, grief, rage.

All the people in town were there. Heads were bowed, hats were held over hearts. All wore black, and the eyes of every man, woman, and child in the crowd were wet. This was most especially true of the king and queen, the parents of the prince. Both of them were crying silently but fiercely, wrapped in each other's arms. Not even the merest kitchen boy's eyes were dry. Not one soul was not in tears on that dark, grief-filled morning. Everyone was crying.

But one was not.

Gothel stayed at the edge of the crowd, wrapped in a black cloak. She was wearing the same mask she had been wearing the day of the celebrations. Her eyes were locked on the stones that marked the two graves. Or, more accurately, on one of the stones only.

Rapunzel's.

She was not crying. She felt numb, cold, on both the inside and the outside. She felt as though everything in the world had died when Rapunzel had, and now here she was all alone again. Tears seemed beyond her. She felt callous, unworthy of love or affection, simply because she could not cry for the only person whom she had loved.

Rapunzel had been the only one who had ever loved her.

And now she was dead at Gothel's hand.

A memory formed before Gothel's eyes. An image of Rapunzel, laughing and smiling, as she stood beside her prince at the celebrations. The warmth, the joy, the love upon her face as she had gazed down into the crowd and then at her beloved Prince Charles. The expression that she had never, not once, given Gothel.

But Gothel did not feel resentment or bitterness or jealousy... or perhaps she simply could not. All she felt was cold. Cold and darkness and utter desolation.

She stood there for a long time. Long after the last stragglers had left the graves to the night, she remained there. Only when she was certain there was no one else about, however, did she near the gravestones. Closer and closer she came, until there were only mere inches separating her and her daughter's tombstone. Hesitantly she stretched out a hand to it, letting her fingertips touch the rock. It felt cold, hard, exactly the way her heart felt at that moment. Like solid ice, ice that would forevermore freeze any hope of warmth reaching through again.

"My daughter," she whispered.

Her eyes were still dry.

And then everything crashed down on her. Rapunzel was gone. Rapunzel was dead. Rapunzel would never return to her, and it was all her fault. Alone she had been and alone she would be for eternity now. Alone she must be, for she had successfully ruined every life she had ever come into contact with. She was a curse, and that curse had just destroyed the only one who had ever loved her.

Dimly, she realized she had sunk to her knees, her head leaning against the stone. But she didn't care. She would not have cared had the entire population of the kingdom still been there to witness her.

Let them kill me, let them take me. I deserve it. I know I deserve it. You have never deserved this, Rapunzel. I am so very sorry, my dearest daughter. Your prince called me a monster, and I didn't think I was. Now I do. I am a monster. I killed my own daughter for no reason other than spite. Please, Rapunzel, wherever you are now, be happy. Be without me, for I never deserved you. I deserve the death you suffered. I deserve both that and your prince's death.

"I will protect her. I will care for her as though she were my own."

She had said those words to Rapunzel's father, once upon a time. She had promised. And look at what she had done. She had killed the very girl she had sworn to protect and care for. She had destroyed Rapunzel. All because of her own jealousy, her own anger.

"You are she. You are Gothel, are you not?"

Gothel turned slowly from the grave. Beside her was a man.

He had quite a few more gray strands among his dark hair than she remembered, and a few more wrinkles in his face. He looked tired, sad, confused. But in spite of all this, she recognized him. It would have been impossible not to. Aside from Rapunzel's, there was no face to which she had given more thought over the years since she had last seen it.

"And you are he," she replied. "You are Rapunzel's father, are you not?"

He nodded. She nodded in reply.

He turned back to the gravestone, and sadness took over his face. "I wanted to see her," he murmured.

And now the tears did come, and Gothel began to sob helplessly. To her surprise, the man took her into his arms and embraced her. "There, there," he murmured. "There, there." Gently, he stroked her hair, and to her own surprise she did not pull away. Perhaps it was just that everything - the grief, the horror, the betrayal - had finally pushed her too far. Or perhaps it was because he was the only one left with whom she could mourn. Perhaps it was both, or one; but for whatever reason, she stayed in his arms - the arms of Rapunzel's father.

"I know," he whispered, awkwardly patting the top of her head. "I know."

"You don't," Gothel wept. "You don't know what I've done."

"You killed her. I know that."

Everything suddenly froze around Gothel. Without fanfare or hesitation she yanked herself free of the man's arms and stared at him. He was looking straight back at her, and there was no anger in his look. There was only sadness and pity and... perhaps a tiny bit of understanding, too?

"How do you know?" she whispered.

"You are the only one who would do such a thing to my daughter."

Perhaps his next words were meant to shock her, or he at the very least expected them to. Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn't. At any rate, if he had expected such a reaction, his expectations were disappointed. Gothel showed no sign of shock when he spoke. After all, there were no words she herself had been thinking more over the past few days, ever since Rapunzel had died in her arms.

"I wish you had done it to me."

"I wish I had done it to me," she murmured, "rather than her."

He looked startled. "You do?"

"I was evil." Gothel stated it matter-of-factly, bluntly, and expressionlessly. "I was selfish and cruel, and I was jealous. I hated your daughter for choosing that prince over me. I hated her and so I killed them both, and it was only when your daughter lay dying in my lap that I understood what I had truly done... what I truly was."

Your daughter. The words sounded sharp, unfamiliar, wrong. They did not belong on her tongue.  And the man could see that. "She is your daughter too," he replied. "If not by blood, then by love. In fact, I think she is rather more your daughter than she is mine."

Is. Is, not was. And Gothel resolved then and there that she was not going to say "was". Rapunzel is my daughter. Rapunzel is my child, and I am her mother.

"I loved - I love her," she quickly corrected. He did not comment. "I love her with all my heart, true. But this..." She gestured towards the stone beside them, unwilling to look at it again. "This is my fault. I killed Rapunzel. Why are you not angry with me?"

Rapunzel's father was silent for what felt like a long time, though in reality was likely only about a minute or so.

"I never spoke of this to anyone, least of all to you," he finally replied quietly, "but Rapunzel has a twin sister."

Gothel's mouth fell open. What? Rapunzel had had a twin sister? But how... who... how had she been hidden from Gothel's sight? What had happened? How had they chosen Rapunzel to go... But she was not given the chance to ask any of these questions, for Rapunzel's father kept speaking.

"That night, when the two of them were born, my wife and I both knew we were going to have to make a terrible choice. Which child to keep, and which child to give away? Neither of us was willing to give up both girls, and we both knew that it was impossible to keep them both.

"My wife chose Rapunzel to be given away because she was the one born first. "John," she said to me, "this one must go, for she was eager enough to leave me." And I could not, in good conscience, argue with her - for we had to give up one child, and... and...

"So we hid our other daughter in the bed, with my wife. And I gave Rapunzel to you. I can still feel her body in my arms... and I didn't know it was to be the last time I ever saw her...

"My wife left soon after that. I refused to take any more rampion from your garden. I felt that ever since I had taken it I had brought a curse down upon my family. "No more of that rampion," I said to my wife. "It has cost us enough as it is. Do you want to lose Flora too?"

"Flora?"

"Yes, it is what we named our other daughter."

"Flora." Gothel tried it out on her tongue. "It is a pretty name."

"She was the only flower I had for years, after my wife left." The man's - John's - eyes were downcast now, away from Gothel. "My wife left in the night, twelve years after we had given Rapunzel to you. For those years, she had festered in her own guilt. Many a night she was crying herself to sleep. And I never comforted her, or tried to, because every night I saw myself handing Rapunzel away...

"She hid the guilt with wine and spirits, and I found myself taking more and more care of Flora and trying to keep her from her mother as best I could. And then when she left... I don't know where she is now, but I think she left to find Rapunzel. And now Rapunzel is gone...

"And so it was just the two of us, my daughter Flora and me. And every now and then it was painful to look at Flora, because of her striking resemblance to Rapunzel. Like two peas in a pod, those two were, at least at birth. But I loved Flora with all my heart. She was all I had left. I took care of her. I picked her up when she fell down. I held her when she cried. I kissed her tears away, and I told her how much I loved her countless times. But I never let her wander far from our little cottage, and certainly not from the village. I was so afraid that if I did, I would lose her the way I had lost Rapunzel, and later my wife."

Gothel took a deep breath, letting it out in a soft sigh. This was so very much what her life with Rapunzel had been. She too had held Rapunzel near, not wanting her to leave for fear that her daughter would never return. And this man... he had extended the same protectiveness towards Rapunzel's sister. Had Flora, she wondered, reacted the same way?

"Then Flora wanted to marry. I was horrified. Not because I didn't approve of the match - I thought he was a fine young man, honest and truehearted and worthy of my Flora. I just knew that if I allowed Flora to marry him, she would go away, and this time it would be for good. I could not bear the thought of losing her, even if it was for her own happiness. So I refused to bless the marriage, and that night she ran away.

"I had never told her of her sister Rapunzel - though I hadn't known Rapunzel's name at the time." He let out a mirthless laugh. "Imagine it - not knowing your own daughter's name until days before her untimely death. Well, perhaps I should have told Flora about Rapunzel. Perhaps then she would have understood. Perhaps I would have understood."

Gothel swallowed past a lump that had just formed in her throat. Rapunzel had been so very similar to her sister. She too had been willing to run away without even a goodbye, and she would likely never have returned. And Gothel had loved Rapunzel too much to lose her.

"What happened to Flora?" she whispered.

John looked bleakly up at her. "I don't know. I haven't heard from her since she ran away." He sighed and put his head in his hands. "My family has been torn apart ever since that day you caught me stealing your rampion."

A wave of pity swept over Gothel, so deep and strong that she nearly keeled over. "I'm so sorry," she said softly. "I shouldn't have asked for such a high price. This is all my fault."

"No." He shook his head. "I should never have given my daughter up for my wife's craving. I was a-"

"You did what you thought was best," she interrupted gently. "I think that one of the hardest things about being a parent is letting your child go."

He nodded slowly.

"But you haven't answered my question. Why are you not angry with me for what I did?"

He was silent. And then he spoke.

"I saw you tending your rampion many times, Gothel, before my wife saw it and craved it. I saw how you crooned to it, how you sang to it, how you cared for it as though it were your child."

Gothel stared at him, rather surprised. "Y-yes," she answered hesitatingly. "It was my child, in a way. It was the only thing I had. My parents had died, I had no sisters or brothers... I had no one, for no one wished to befriend a witch. The rampion was the only one who didn't shrink from my presence."

"So I took your child, and in exchange you took mine." He looked at her and gave her a smile. It was a sad smile, a smile filled with longing, but a smile nonetheless. "I can't imagine what it must have been to be so lonely. And then to have that snatched from you... I don't know if I can forgive you. But I'm sorry that you had to go through so much."

She looked at him. And she realized she was all right with that. She didn't think that her murder of Rapunzel was something that should even be forgiven. At the very least, she knew that she would never forgive herself.

"That is much better than I deserve," she said sincerely. "Thank you."

He smiled awkwardly. And then...

"Will you tell me a little about Rapunzel's childhood?" he asked hesitatingly. "I... never got the chance to ask her, so... will you?"

Gothel nodded. "With pleasure." She returned the smile.

This is not a happy ending, she mused. But it is the closest I will have for some time. I won't worry about the future now, or how I will survive without Rapunzel beside me. For now, there are stories and memories to share and laugh at and cry over.

Rapunzel, she added silently, wherever you are, I hope you know how sorry I am for what I did to you. I love you so much, my precious daughter.

And it could have been her imagination, but at that moment, Mother Gothel could have sworn she had heard that familiar, beloved voice whisper into her ear, "I love you too, Mother."