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It was once upon a time, and Rapunzel lived inside a tower. All she knew was the tower's single room. She knew the books piled high on a side table, that all spoke of wondrous lands, interesting people, and wide-open spaces- the things of her dreams. And she knew her mother, the only other person that she had ever met, who brought Rapunzel her meals, and all her entertainment, and who smiled so brightly at the sight of Rapunzel, but would be gone before long every time.
One day, when Rapunzel came of age, she simply needed to know. "How," Rapunzel asked, "can you seem so happy to see me, and still leave me every time? You are my mother, are you not? Were mothers not meant to be with their babies, as my stories say? What calls you away from me each time? Why must I be here, when you must leave?"
The witch replied: "You waste your time calling me that, for your mother I am not. Your mother is the one who wept so prettily at the thought of the tasty Rapunzel in my garden, in a town far from here. She is the one whose tears convinced your father to steal what was mine. And she is the one who agreed to exchange you for her desires." Rapunzel fell to the floor and began to weep, but still she had to ask: "Then why must you keep me here? I give you nothing, and you've long since lost your precious vegetables."
The witch reached out her boney hand to stroke Rapunzel's head, then down to the trusses so long they coiled around the room. "I worked so hard to grow that Rapunzel, all those years ago." The witch replied. "I used strong seeds from the northern mountains, healthy dirt from the eastern forests, and pure water from the southern streams. Such labor and time invested, for such a wonderful harvest. Had not been for your mother and father I would have been ready to grow generations upon generations more. For all my work that I lost, I simply wanted something of equal value in return. A new crop to cultivate." The witch let her hand glide across Rapunzel's head, as one might stroke the wheat in a field. And she smiled- the same one as always, but now so much colder.
"A Rapunzel,” the witch said, “for my Rapunzel."
Before long the witch was gone, and Rapunzel thought to wait for her return. But Rapunzel was a little girl no longer, and the witch’s words ran through her head over and over again.
A Rapunzel, for the witch's Rapunzel.
When morning came Rapunzel sat by her window and called out to the birds that flew by. "My friends," she said, "I need some strong seeds from the northern mountains. Would you please bring some to me?" The birds replied: "We must look very carefully to find the seeds, and fly so far to the mountains and back. Why should we do this for you?"
Rapunzel spoke honestly: "I have nothing of interest to birds in this room- I am sorry for my selfishness, but all I can give to you is my thanks." But the birds thought back to the little girl who sat at her window and clapped so happily at their songs, no matter how many times she heard them. And so without another word, they flew off towards the northern mountains, and plucked up all the strong seeds they could spot. When the birds returned to Rapunzel with their findings, she thanked them in earnest. And though she felt it was close to worthless, she rubbed each bird's tired wings with her gentle hands, until her fingers were raw.
The next day, Rapunzel called out to the squirrels below who ran about her tower. "My friends," she said, "I need some healthy soil from the eastern forests. Would you please bring some to me?" The squirrels replied as the birds had: “Why should we do this for you?"
Again, Rapunzel spoke honestly: "I have nothing of interest to squirrels in this room- I am sorry for my rudeness, but all I can give to you is my thanks." But the squirrels thought back to the little girl who would drop crumbs of her bread from her window during the winter. And so without another word they scampered off to the eastern forests, and rolled about in the healthy soil before returning to the tower, where they shook themselves off in a pot of Rapunzel supplied. Once again, Rapunzel was giddy with appreciation. Though she felt it wasn't proper payment, she took her fine hairbrush and gently tended to each squirrel's fur, until the brush broke from the strain.
The next day, Rapunzel looked out her window and saw something new- another person, like herself and the witch, stumbling about on a horse. Rapunzel quickly called out to them, and they came to the base of her tower. "Hello!" called the stranger, with a voice rougher than Rapunzel had even heard before. "What could you possibly be doing in this strange tower, all the way up there?"
"Trying to get out of it!" cried Rapunzel. "Dear stranger, would you happen to know a way to get pure water from the southern streams?"
"I certainly would,” the stranger replied, “for I am a prince from the south. Of anyone, I would know the fastest routes from here to the sweet streams where our purest water runs."
"Oh, dear southern prince," Rapunzel cried, "would you be so kind as to bring some to me? But as vexing as it is, I can give you nothing in return but my thanks." And the prince did not know of Rapunzel's childhood with the birds and the squirrels- but he was helpful above all, as princes ought to be, and more than a little curious. And without another word, he took off on his horse, sped down the fastest routes, and returned carrying a vessel filled with pure water.
Each day the prince would ascend the tower with Rapunzel's golden hair (yet another curious thing to the prince, as Rapunzel saw nothing strange about this method). And after she had watered her strong seeds in the healthy soil, she would let the tired prince rest his head in her lap, and she would tell him story after story from her books, and then from her mind, until her throat was sore.
Finally, the day came that Rapunzel's efforts were rewarded. That same day, the witch returned, and smiled at the sight of Rapunzel- until she saw the pot held in Rapunzel's hands, and the bread knife tied at her waist. The witch's face crumbled in horror, then fury. She cursed the very sight of the plant. But Rapunzel stayed steadfast, and held out the pot.
"Your anger is misplaced,” said Rapunzel, “for you have lost nothing. You know that our exchange is equivalent, as yours was with my mother all those years ago. But to soothe your wrath, I will give you even more of me than a fair trade deserves."
Rapunzel placed the pot on the floor and strode towards the window, while the witch, paralyzed with rage, looked on. Without a second glance, she hooked her hair and descended from the single tower room. When she reached the bottom, she took the bread knife from her hip and cut her locks to the quick. The witch obtained some Rapunzel for her Rapunzel- and golden wheat to go along with it. And though Rapunzel did not see it, before the witch could even begin to give chase, the birds pecked and the squirrels gnawed at the flowing hair, trapping her in the tower room above.
As Rapunzel walked away from the tower she spotted the prince waiting nearby. Delighted to see her new friend, Rapunzel spoke: "I have yet another favor to ask of you. I dream of seeing the lush, wide-open plains of the west. Will you be so kind as to escort me there, though I have nothing to offer in return?"
"How wrong you are!" Exclaimed the prince, which startled sweet Rapunzel. "In my daily travels I've learned so much of you. I have heard from the birds how you gave your gentle hands to soothe their wings, and from the squirrels how you gave your talented brush to care for their fur. And to me, you gave your lovely voice and wonderful stories to ease my body and mind. For all of us, you have given something of value in return, through your wonderful kindness."
Rapunzel considered the prince’s words at length, then gave him a radiant smile. "Then I will ask you to escort me to the lush plains of the west," said Rapunzel, "and we shall see what I can offer you in return."
And so they went, together, to their happily ever after.