#rapunzel.witch

He realizes the strain in the silence too late; he opens his mouth only to have the air snatched away, the earth yanking up to his knees and throwing him down, thick and damp fog exploding from the river. Everything shifts in a single moment, the Knight choking as he immediately closes his eyes, hands pushing themselves into the dirt as his instincts scream for his actions. The Forests shift; the bright and beautiful calm of Nature striping away to the dreary darkness that the entirety of the Kingdom holds Knowledge of. He bites the inside of his cheek, forcing his discipline into full display as he lets his head dip into the dirt. His Magicks drag against his control, desiring to keep him safe, the Forests creaking against the potential of the Potential pouring out before him. He takes a breath, calming his body and mind and letting his Magicks whisper into the ground as his voice comes fully. “Do not fear; I come by order of Her Royal Majesty, the Adored Angelina of the Benevolent Family of “ “ I assure you, I mean you no harm, Your Majesty; I hold a letter from your sister in the hood of my cloak.” He waits in the absolute silence, senses straining even though he is more than aware that of the Magicks the Prince was said to have. He tries to breathe calm back into his person, keeps himself from shifting against the elements still holding him captive. And then a shiver comes, a hand ghosting over the back of his neck before his cloak shifts. The Knight stills himself completely; the threat is obvious. He lets the Ghost search for the note he made sure to put in the easiest spot available. The cloak shifts only for a moment more before pages flutter for a second; the silence floods over him again and the Knight waits for any sign of the message being received. He wonders if he would even be able to note if the Prince decided to not trust him; the thought dissolves only with the Magicks, the Knight gasping softly as the clearing comes back to him, the shift of the environment disjointing for a moment. He lets himself sag to the ground for a moment, a small sigh lifting before he carefully lets himself stand, eyes easily being captivated once again by the Being before him, this time with papers held in one of his hands. The wary suspicion is dissolved into nervous concern, but the Knight keeps his face neutral as the Prince’s eyes rake over him. It is the same as the Queen; he is the same as the Queen, in almost every aspect save the length of his hair and the aura that bleeds without his permission. The Knight can feel and see it. The Royal Majesty before him is as open as the Queen is closed; is as vulnerable as his sister is invincible. It make the Knight frown slightly; a Royal Heir holding his emotions on his sleeve would be more than a small- “Do you enjoy gawking?” The Knight blinks, eyes immediately going to the Prince’s; his voice holds the same harmony as the Queen, it almost distracts him from the small blush that rushes to mingle with the man’s cheeks and ears. He notes soft sun kisses burning against a nose and drawing themselves over cheeks and around eyes before he realizes the Prince glancing at him and away again. The Knight starts a little, realizes his mistake and immediately bows low, letting his eyes fall to the ground between them. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I must be losing my mind, staring so openly at you.” A small noise makes him want to glance up; the soft ruffles of papers being waved in the air gives him the embarrassment the Prince couldn’t hide. “N-no, uh, I, just-” A sigh comes, soft noises suggesting movement before papers make contact; the Royal Majesty gently smacks him with the pages, making him glance up at rich earth framing bright mahogany. “You don’t have to use all of that fancy talk, you know. I am assuming since my dear sister went and sent you, you are more than aware of my current status?” He shifts back, allowing the Knight to stand slowly as he gives the Prince a small nod and another foot of space between them.

The Forests had been told with stories of darkness and Blight.

He remembers the years within the Castle, the tales of the Forests of the Forsaken Prince twisting until all that is left is the story of a Disgraced Prince, a Wretch Curse, and the Rapunzel Witch. But now that he is among the earth and wood; now that his boots trek the paths beloved by animals and untainted by Humanity; now that he breathes the winds that curl in delight through the branches and leaves, he knows the tales to be everything but truth. He knows what a Forest of Witches is known for. He knows the telltale signs of Blight and Corruption. It had been one of his many "extraordinary and winning qualities." He scoffs at the compliment now, safe in his slight disrespect among the vines and flowers. They barely whisper any sort of gossip, these wild children more than happy to simply note the wandering legs of another person. He listens quietly to the chatter of the Trees, notes that the paths once made by animals clear themselves from roots and debris. He follows the call of the Forest, barely recalls all of the high tales of Witches and danger as he moves. This Forest is gentle in a way that not even the Highland Roads are. The Knight knows just from being in it. It comes with a soft realization; Humanity made the Forest scary, undesired, and abandoned. That and apparently the myth of a Prince currently claimed to be unfounded gossip by the Queen herself. The Knight frowns with the thought, but the soft shift of the Trees immediately brings him back, the man stopping as he takes in the path. It slowly begins to open up, roots shifting out of his way and forming a break in the Trees; he notes the edge of the clearing, the soft glow of dusk burning everything in that golden flame, just out of his reach. He blinks, lets the other sensations come to him too; the soft whisper of water rolling through, the gentle smell of more fragrant plant life, the chatter of birds and feathers and leaves lifting into the air. He takes a moment to soak it in, hears nothing different from the Forests before he nods and lets himself out into the open, hand dropping to his sword hilt. No matter the words of the Queen, the Forests were given their name and myths for a reason. He did not feel like becoming victim to the illusions of a Witch, no matter the assurances he had been given. He steps out in the field, eyes immediately adjusting and focusing on the sparkle of the water, clear and pure and running softly from the Forests and past the clearing, more of a river than a simple stream, bleeding itself further and beyond the- The Knight freezes completely as his eyes follow the water to the Being standing within it, ribbons of rich soil spiraling all around as if caught in a soft whirlwind. They circle and enclose around their Being, and the Knight gapes at the absolute marvel before him. Utterly similar and achingly different, the Royal Majesty stands a few meters from him, eyes and arms lifted in the air. Soft streams of water soaking through their clothes as a smile whispers throughout their entire body, they stand in the river as if they were made there. Just as blinding and brilliant as the clear element that dampens everything but the length of auburn carving soil throughout the winds that dance around them, the Knight forgets everything in the moment. He almost drowns himself in the scene playing out, tiny notes jingling in the back of his head. It whispers of the soft call of Magicks, the whisper of potential and power, the gentle chatter of Nature that is growing, about to give him away- The Knight can’t help the gasp that comes when the Being snaps to his attention, all allure immediately falling away, all of the elements slamming into dormancy as the face falls into slight shock and wary suspicion.

The Work In Progress:

This story was honestly supposed to just be a tiny drabble or short story about the shenanigans of a Queen, a Knight, and the Rapunzel who would really rather just stay in the Tower. Long story short: things got way out of hand.

The story is more going to be scenes ands soft plot points, since we really want this story to be a little more soft work and fickle timelines like normal fairytale retellings.

Honestly, this is one of the few stories where we don't have a clear path forward, and we are, for all intents and purposes, just absolutely rolling random dice and hoping for the best.

The Characters:

The Queen and the Knight are the only two people who have actual names at the moment and no, we did not think this through when we first introduced them. Angelina came when we were trying to figure out a part of the story, and we just came up with Bartlebee when we created the WIP Intro Post.

A small detail about the names and characters is that every one of them will hold a "namesake" or word that is supposed to help define them. You can see this with, "the Adored Angelina," and "the Beloved Bartlebee." We don't think that we will always match the name to the namesake, but who knows!

When first writing the Rapunzel's Witch, we forgot about the tiny little fact that the Queen was married. And so apparently, there is a King roaming around the Castle, and they are not under supervision, if something catches fire, we will now blame them.

The Writing Process:

This is one of the few stories that we aren't doing massive prepping and planning for. It kind of went from a small random story idea into its own thing, so they story is a little chaotic at the moment, but we are kind of happy of this story that is unfolding as it goes!

We kind of had a little trouble with the Tumblr Post regulations - we were a dumb and did not understand some of the things - so we might actually go back and shift things around so the flow is a bit better with the story.

Writing this kind of was nice, and for the writing process, we definitely took more inspiration from Disney's Rapunzel, but also this lovely story called, The Errant Prince, that we have read about. We wants the writing vibes to be the same as these ones, though we might put in some major conflicts in there at some point too.

The Royal Heir finds the man returning more and more often, and sometimes, he stays for days at a time, wandering throughout the Forests and giving himself to the Nature around the Witching Tower.

The Royal Heir almost wishes he would get lost, but the man bleeds with the same Magicks as the Forests protecting him; he is an Herbalist, a stubborn child of Azoterra and the thought makes the Royal Heir scowl before leaving the Knight to whatever he does at the base of the Tower.

The Royal Heir paces the Tower instead, taking stock of his supplies and the rooms and everything else, letting his mind bleed into the normalcy that the worn walls provide.

It fills the time with tedious works, and he falls into the static thoughts of his normal routine until the noises come to him.

He blinks as the thuds come, soft rhythms floating from the open window and only disrupted with the drilled noises of someone working.

It makes the Royal Heir pause, mind instantly focusing on the Knight and the small ideas that would allow for such noises to hit the air.

He bites a lip, walks over to his window and lets his eyes peek into the clearing and catch the workings of the Knight.