Work Text:
Rapunzel swirled her brush in the spot of dark green paint, collecting the color from the palette to spread on the wall. She smoothed it against the stone in light strokes, mimicking the curves of leaves and sharpness of pine needles. She had lately found herself drawn to these earthy colors and images of nature, perhaps due to that boy. Browns and greens reminded her of him, a human manifestation of the roughness of tree bark and the softness of foliage. She still remembered the first time they met, a time that felt like ages ago and just yesterday at the same time…
~*~
She had been playing hide-and-seek with Pascal when she heard something outside, flapping, like a bird’s wings against the air, but much, much bigger. She abandoned her game in favor of running to the window, searching for the source of the noise, but when she looked outside, there was nothing. Pascal peeked out of his hiding place, frightened, and Rapunzel scooped him up to sooth him.
“It’s alright, Pascal. I’m sure it was nothing,” she said, but just then a loud thud sounded from the top of the tower, soft scrapes against the tiling vibrating through the air that was now thick with fear. Rapunzel grabbed her frying pan and clutched it tightly, tiptoeing to the side of the window with it raised next to her head, and she barely managed to stifle a shriek when a pair of legs appeared, dangling from the roof and searching for the ledge. One of the legs looked to be a piece of metal connected to a chunk of wood, the other clad in fur and leather. Then they began to swing, Rapunzel readying herself to strike, and a figure soon landed with an ungraceful thump on the ground in a tangle of limbs. As the intruder stood, brushing himself off, Rapunzel approached him from behind, lifted her frying pan, and brought it down in a swift arc straight to the back of his head.
The boy let out a yelp, lurching forward and cradling his skull, but he was not rendered unconscious. He let out a long string of exclamations of pain, muttering, “Oh god, I’m seeing stars!...This can’t be good…Oh that hurts…Should’ve known better—agh!—than to go where I don’t belong…” He continued his ramblings as Rapunzel cowered in the shadow of the curtain, but after a little while of watching him, she realized he wasn’t much of a danger. She began to feel terrible about hurting him and soon gained enough courage to inch towards him.
“Hello?” she asked the boy. “Are you alright?”
The boy jumped, realizing his attacker was still present, and brought his hands up, saying, “Please don’t hit me again! If you do I think you might give me…” He turned towards Rapunzel, and his eyes widened in wonder at the sight of the girl, her golden hair catching the sunlight streaming in from the window, “…brain…damage…”
For a moment they both stood frozen, staring at each other. Upon closer inspection, Rapunzel noticed a sprinkle of freckles across his nose, green-grey eyes almost obscured by a flop of dark brown hair. He didn’t look scary to her, so she took a step closer.
“I’m sorry I hit you,” she started, sheepishly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You scared me and I…well…” Chuckling, she swung her frying pan around and then accidentally hit herself in the jaw.
The boy snickered but then winced painfully, his head still hurting. Rapunzel jerked forward, her hand reaching for him, but he flinched away. “Please,” she said, “I can help.” She gathered some of her hair as the boy looked on warily, but he complied as she placed her hair on the back of his head.
“What are you—”
“Shh,” Rapunzel shushed him as she began to sing:
“Flower gleam and glow,
Let your power shine,
Make the clock reverse,
Bring back what once was mine.
Heal what has been hurt,
Change the fate’s design,
Save what has been lost,
Bring back what once was mine,
What once was mine.”
As she sang, Rapunzel could hear the boy’s gasp, probably watching in amazement as her hair glowed like a candle’s flame, spreading from her roots throughout its long expanse around the room to the ends that she held against him. She heard him sigh softly in relief as the pain in his head diminished and disappeared, and she backed away from the boy as she finished.
Rapunzel stood quietly as the boy sputtered, pressing his hands to his head disbelievingly, stammering, “You—what—how—but—that was awesome!” The boy spun around laughing, pointing at her hair all around. “Your hair! How does it do that? Is it magic? What else can it do? Wow, no one’s going to believe me back at—”
“Wait!” Rapunzel interrupted him. “Um…are you going to kidnap me and use my hair for yourself?”
The boy looked at her like she had done something even more unbelievable than heal him with her hair. “What? No! Why would even ask me that?”
“Well, that’s what Mother says will happen if I go outside.” Rapunzel turned to the window, gazing out at the sky and trees and grass. “That’s why I stay in this tower.”
The boy was silent for a moment before he replied, “Wait, do you mean that you’ve never been outside? Ever?” Rapunzel shook her head. “You, milady, have got a lot to learn. I’m Hiccup.”
~*~
Hiccup.
Rapunzel smiled at the memory, touching up the last root of the tree she was painting, which she imagined extending deep into the ground, an invisible anchor that kept the trunk from falling over. When she finished, she gazed at it happily, hoping Hiccup would visit soon. At the thought, she skipped over to another part of the wall, obscured by a curtain, and pushed it back to reveal another painting, one of Hiccup and his beloved dragon, Toothless.
She had spent days on this one, wanting to get each and every detail perfect: Hiccup’s freckles, Toothless’ scales, the texture of the fur and leather. She was saddened that she had to keep it hidden behind the curtain, for fear of her mother seeing it, but she found thrill in it as well; Hiccup was her secret.
From behind her, a voice asked, “What are you looking at?”
Rapunzel squealed and jumped, startled, and let the curtain fall behind her as she spun around. She met the sight of a boy with dark hair and freckles, and even as she blushed at nearly being caught admiring those painted features, she couldn’t help the wide smile that formed, her wish granted.
“Oh, nothing,” she replied. “But you’re lucky I wasn’t holding my frying pan—you scared me.”
Hiccup instinctively moved his hand to the back of his head, remembering the pain. “Yeah, lucky me,” he laughed. Silence fell, and Rapunzel watched as Hiccup did that adorable thing he often did, where he shifts his feet and looks around himself in an awkward effort to find something to say.
Rapunzel stifled her laughter, as she loved this habit but did not want to show it, and she said, “So, what brings you here?”
Hiccup visibly relaxed as he responded, “Oh, you know. This and that. Dad’s been on me about dragon training and forming the new school and—”
“Wow, that sounds so cool!”
“I don’t know, he keeps giving me these ‘helpful suggestions’—” he air-quoted the words, rolling his eyes as he began to pace, “that are really more like demands, and he just doesn’t get it! He’s just kind of getting on my nerves about it, and he doesn’t understand but…but…but I don’t really want to talk about that.” Hiccup sighed and offered a hesitant smile, running a hand through his hair.
“Oh! That’s okay, we can talk about something else! Um…” Rapunzel tapped her finger on her chin, searching for a change in topic, but Hiccup cleared his throat.
“Um, well, actually, I, uh, I have something for you.” Hiccup reached for a paper stuffed into his waistband and smoothed it out, handing it to Rapunzel. “I made this the other day, it’s nothing special, but I just thought you might like it and…”
Hiccup continued rambling as Rapunzel unfolded the paper, revealing a rough sketch out of charcoal that she soon realized was her. The strokes of black were uneven and smudged, but she could see the depiction of the softness of her hair and the brightness of her eyes, the details of her dress. It was beautiful, and Rapunzel felt her heart swell as Hiccup’s stuttering kept on, so she silenced him with a finger over his lips.
“I love it, Hiccup. It’s amazing.”
Hiccup’s breath brushed past her finger as he exhaled and looked at her with wide eyes. “Really? You think so?”
“Yeah! Have you ever painted before?”
“Oh, no, no, I’ve never been able to get my hands on any.”
“Well, do you want to? I was just painting earlier…”
“What? I—uh—I couldn’t! I don’t want to waste it—”
“The only thing you’re wasting is your talent.” Rapunzel took his hand and led him to an empty space on the wall where her paints were set up. She looked at him expectantly as he glanced between her and the tools, unsure. “Go on then,” she smiled. He tentatively picked up a brush and looked at it. Rapunzel waved her hands forward, urging him on, so he gave a heavy sigh and stuck the brush in a jar of bright yellow paint. When he pulled it out, the paint was slick a third of the way up the handle, the glob of yellow just an inch from his fingers, but he wasn’t about to give up now, so he pushed the brush onto the wall and dragged it across. The line of paint was thick and lumpy and Hiccup let out a groan of frustration.
“See? I can’t do it with paints; I’m not used to it!”
“Hiccup, please,” Rapunzel rolled her eyes at the boy. “Here, let me help.”
She stepped in front of him and took his hand, holding it up to the wall. She felt his chest warm against her back but pushed the thought away as she guided his hand in light strokes. “See? You just have to be gentle. Look, we can make a sun…”
She directed his hand in soft curves, forming a picture from the shapes, and soon the only sounds were their breathing and the smooth strokes of the brush against the wall. They painted a circle with rays extending from its ring, an image Rapunzel had often found herself drawn to. “There,” she whispered as they finished the last touch. Neither moved, for fear of breaking the tranquility, and Rapunzel felt herself leaning back into Hiccup’s warmth.
Suddenly aware, Rapunzel widened her eyes and jerked her hand from Hiccup’s, and they both froze. She turned around to face him and found that they were only inches apart. She didn’t feel his breath on her mouth and knew he was holding it, and she looked up to meet his eyes. His hand was still holding the brush, poised over the wall, and his other was hovering next to her waist, frozen.
Finally, Hiccup cleared his throat, coughing and laughing at the same time awkwardly, and he stepped away, a blush creeping up his neck. “Well, uh, that was cool, uh, different from charcoal, hehe, but uh, yeah, I um…”
Rapunzel forced a laugh, embarrassed, and rubbed her elbows. “Haha, yeah, isn’t it nice? There’s lots of pigment in the paint, so, you know, there’s more variety and whatnot, and uh…”
Their nonsense sputtering soon died down and they stood a few feet apart, looking anywhere but at each other. Eventually, Rapunzel braved a glance at Hiccup and promptly burst out laughing.
“What?” Hiccup exclaimed. “What? What are you laughing at?”
“You—ha!—you have some—there’s paint on your face!” Rapunzel managed to spit out between chuckles.
“Aw, man, where is it?” Hiccup wiped his hand across his face, smearing the paint around even more and sending Rapunzel into another fit of giggles.
“Here, I’ll get it.” She grabbed a rag from a table nearby and stood in front of him. “Hold still.”
She gently rubbed the fabric against his skin, trapping the yellow in its fibers and revealing the freckles underneath. She could see fainter spots in this proximity and felt Hiccup’s eyes on her once again.
“Hiccup?”
“Yes?” he breathed.
Rapunzel met his eyes. “I really like you.”
“Y…you do?” She nodded. “Uh…see, well, that’s good I think because, um, I like…I like you too so, um—”
Rapunzel leaped forward, closing the short distance between them with her lips against his, a surprised sound coming from Hiccup’s throat. She placed her hands on either side of his face, pulling him closer, and he soon relaxed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Moments passed and they finally pulled apart, both flushed and smiling, and Rapunzel rested her forehead against Hiccup’s, her hands still on his cheeks.
“Wow,” he sighed. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“I think I have an idea,” she laughed, caressing his cheek with her thumb. She gave him one last peck on the tip of his nose before giggling and spinning around, scooping up a red Pascal who had been hiding nearby.
“Were you spying on us, Pascal?” Rapunzel teased, and Hiccup watched her fondly as she twirled and glowed, her hair tangling around their feet, but she floated over the loops and strands in graceful leaps, like she was flying and…flying.
“Yes!”
Rapunzel stopped her spinning and dancing, looking warily at Hiccup. “What? ‘Yes’ what?”
Hiccup chuckled and took one of her hands, Pascal in the other, and pulled her over to the window. “Come on!”
“What are you doing?”
“Just trust me.” He looked back at her and watched as her posture relaxed and her gaze softened.
“Okay.”
Hiccup climbed out of the window and, balancing on the ledge, managed to heave himself onto the roof. He leaned back down to see Rapunzel watching him cautiously and gave her a reassuring smile. “Wait there.”
He climbed up to the top of the tower’s roof, where Toothless was napping in the sun. “Hey, buddy, wake up! Want to have some fun?” Toothless opened his eyes a crack before rolling over and turning his head away. “Aw, come on, buddy! Don’t you want to give Rapunzel a ride?” The dragon immediately perked up and grinned his toothless smile, readying himself for flying. “That’s a good dragon. Let’s go!”
Hiccup mounted the saddle and guided Toothless to the window where Rapunzel was waiting. Toothless flapped his wings to remain hovering next to the tower, and Hiccup held out his hand.
“Well?” he asked, waiting.
Rapunzel tentatively glanced down at the ground and back at Hiccup. “I don’t know, maybe another day?” She began backing away from the edge, Pascal glaring from her shoulder.
“Rapunzel, I tried something new today with painting! Now it’s your turn.”
“What? Okay, that’s not even a fair comparison. Flying is nothing like painting!”
“Sure it is! Uh…the strokes of wings against the air are like the strokes of a brush against the wall! They have to be soft and gentle to make something beautiful. In this case, fly! See? It’s exactly like painting!”
Rapunzel squinted her eyes at him and pursed her lips disbelievingly. Hiccup responded by stretching his arm out further towards her and offering a small smile.
“Just trust me?”
Rapunzel hesitated for a moment longer but finally sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. “Okay.” She climbed onto the window’s ledge and grasped Hiccups outstretched hand, letting out a squeal.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Hiccup hoisted Rapunzel onto the back of Toothless’ saddle, and she proceeded to wrap her arms and legs around him as tightly as possible, eyes gazing widely at the ground below them. “Hold on tight!”
Toothless flapped his wings and they began to fly. Rapunzel screamed and clutched Hiccup, who laughed and kissed her cheek soothingly. Soon she relaxed her grip slightly and let out a nervous giggle, her hair streaming like a ray of sunlight behind them.
Rapunzel tightened her hold on Hiccup, but now not because she was scared, but to get closer to the amazing boy with dark hair and freckles.