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Cassandra – "Rapunzel? Are you all right?"
No. Of course she wasn’t.
The moment Cassandra stepped into the princess’s bedroom, she recognized that blank stare far too well.
Rapunzel was sitting on the floor in front of her dressing table, curled in on herself, arms clutched to her chest. Her long blonde hair had pooled around her like a shield, hiding her in the middle of a mess of overturned bottles, scattered belongings, and broken glass.
At first glance, it looked as though there had been a fight.
But Cassandra had learned to recognize the moments when the princess was fighting no one but herself.
It had been a long time since the last one. Long enough that when Pascal had come to get her, it had taken Cassandra a moment to understand what might have happened.
The familiar spike of adrenaline shot through her—the one that always urged her to rush to Rapunzel’s side whenever she found her like this. But Cassandra forced the impulse down, kept it out of her limbs, and approached slowly. Calmly.
Relaxed. Collected. That was the best attitude in this situation. Something steady for Rapunzel to follow.
Cassandra had learned that from experience.
The first few times, her reaction had been nothing short of catastrophic.
Cassandra had only been Rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting for a few days when she first witnessed this kind of scene.
Worn down by the chirpy princess’s relentless excitement over absolutely everything, Cassandra had made the brilliant decision to tire her out first. Show her everything there was to show, let Rapunzel run herself into the ground, and maybe—just maybe—earn herself a little peace.
It was a bad idea.
Most people knew when to stop. They noticed when fatigue started becoming too much. But not Rapunzel. Especially not mental fatigue.
So, after an already hectic day, while trying out every instrument in an entire orchestra, Rapunzel had simply stopped functioning. Like a machine running out of oil, overheating, and finally breaking down.
Looking back, Cassandra knew there had been signs. Signs that could have warned her, signs that could have prevented the whole thing, if only she had known how to read them back then.
And of course, her response had been completely inadequate.
Panicked by the incomprehensible collapse of the young woman who had been so enthusiastic only moments earlier, Cassandra had rushed toward her, searching for whatever had done this to her. She had tried shaking answers out of her. Raised her voice. Gotten angry.
Which, unsurprisingly, had only made the princess even less able to respond.
Now, kneeling beside Rapunzel in the wreckage of her bedroom, Cassandra knew better.
First step: assess and remove the immediate dangers.
Most of what had been on the dressing table had been knocked over. Glass vials lay broken across the floor, their contents spilling between the shards.
Too many smells. Too much broken glass. Too much light catching on every shard. Cassandra could not know which part of it had trapped Rapunzel, only that the room was making it worse.
Not a place to stay in the middle of a shutdown. Especially not for someone who was almost always barefoot.
Cassandra scraped the side of her shoe against the floor, clearing a small patch free of glass and residue in front of the princess. Then she knelt there, bringing herself down to Rapunzel’s level.
Cassandra - “Hey, Raps.”
Rapunzel’s eyes were wide open, her pupils blown. She stared blankly at the floor. She didn’t look at Cassandra when she called her name. She didn’t look at Pascal either, even when he climbed onto her shoulder.
But the fingers of her right hand, tense and motionless until then against the sleeve of her left arm, began to twitch. Tightening. Loosening.
A sign.
She was reacting to their presence.
It had taken Cassandra far too long to understand that, in moments like this, Rapunzel was still communicating. Just not in the ways Cassandra wanted her to.
Which was extremely frustrating. Cassandra liked to communicate quickly and efficiently, so as not to waste time.
At first, Cassandra had kept looking for the signs she expected to see.
Like the time panic had suddenly overtaken the princess after one of Corona’s citizens had made the spectacularly bad decision to call her “Young Flower.”
After making sure the offender understood exactly how miserable Cassandra was prepared to make their life, Cassandra had grabbed Rapunzel by the chin and forced her to look her in the eye. Trying to snap her out of it. Trying to anchor her back in the here and now.
After all, eye contact was natural, wasn’t it? Words could be useless, but a look could say everything.
Besides, she and Rapunzel communicated through glances all the time. In plenty of situations, one look between them was worth a thousand words.
Which had only made Rapunzel’s reaction more frustrating. The moment Cassandra forced eye contact, Rapunzel’s panic had spiked, and her gaze had fled from Cassandra’s as if looking at her had suddenly become unbearable.
For a long time after that, Cassandra had believed it was better to let Rapunzel calm down by herself when she shut down like this.
Experience had taught her otherwise.
Rapunzel didn’t need to be alone to calm down.
She needed to feel safe.
Cassandra - "It's all right. I'm here to help."
Second step: make sure she wasn’t hurt, or about to hurt herself.
Cassandra quickly scanned Rapunzel’s tense body. She couldn’t see any object within reach that Rapunzel might use to injure herself. Even with her lower body hidden beneath her cocoon of hair, she didn’t seem to be doing anything dangerous, and Cassandra couldn’t spot any obvious injuries.
Good.
But she hadn’t seen the beginning of the episode. She couldn’t know for sure that Rapunzel hadn’t already hurt herself. And Rapunzel didn’t seem capable of answering questions right now.
Cassandra -"I’m going to take your hand in mine. Is that okay?"
She watched her carefully, searching her posture, her breathing, the smallest movement of her fingers, for any sign of rejection or acceptance.
It was a real exercise in patience.
It was so tempting to simply act. To do whatever needed to be done and help her quickly. Almost as tempting as it was difficult, for Cassandra, to see her friend like this and not rush.
But Rapunzel, right now, could not intuitively understand what Cassandra was doing. Taking the time to warn her, to explain each gesture before making it, was part of helping.
That had probably been the most frustrating part, at first.
Now, it came more naturally. With every episode, Cassandra had understood a little better that her attitude mattered as much as her actions. Maybe more. Every gesture, every word, was one careful step along a path that could be long and winding.
It took Rapunzel a few seconds to react.
Then her fingers stopped kneading frantically at her sleeves. Slowly, trembling with the effort, she opened them instead, spreading her hands over her arms as if making room for Cassandra’s fingers to slip beneath her palms.
Okay. I get it.
Carefully, Cassandra slid her fingers under Rapunzel’s palm and curled them around her hand.
Rapunzel’s fingers tightened around hers almost at once, squeezing as if Cassandra might disappear if she didn’t hold on.
Cassandra - "That's all right, princess. I want to help you. If you want that too, squeeze my hand."
She had to gauge whether Rapunzel was able to understand her. Whether she could react to a simple instruction. Whether hand-squeeze communication was even accessible to her right now.
Cassandra had noticed, over time, that Rapunzel was a tactile person. When her emotions overwhelmed her, touch was often the easiest way for her to express herself.
The question did two things at once. It let Cassandra check whether Rapunzel understood what was being asked of her. And it gave Rapunzel time to decide whether she was ready to accept her help.
Then Cassandra had to be patient again. A tough call, for her.
Especially now, when she still needed to make sure Rapunzel wasn’t hurt. If there was a danger, Cassandra would have to check eventually, for Rapunzel’s own safety. With or without a clear answer.
But it would be easier, gentler, safer, if Rapunzel could meet her halfway.
Forcing Rapunzel to act could work.
For a while.
It had worked the day Rapunzel had needed to return, for the first time, to the tower where she had been locked away. The day Pascal had run off.
She had frozen in place at the sight of it. Staring at the tower, unable to remember how to move, unable to react to anything.
That day, Cassandra had been harsh. Authoritarian enough to make fleeing Cassandra feel easier than staying frozen.
It had brought them back to Corona. But it had come at a cost.
Once they were back, Rapunzel had spiraled into an even longer, even more violent episode. And it had been harder to manage because Cassandra had not really helped her calm down. She had only forced her out of freezing by becoming another source of pressure. Something to escape.
After that, getting anywhere near her had been much harder.
Now, with Rapunzel’s hand locked around hers, Cassandra waited.
Finally, after a few long seconds, Rapunzel’s fingers tightened even harder around her hand.
Then loosened slightly.
Obviously. Rapunzel had already been squeezing her hand when Cassandra asked the question. The instruction must have confused her.
Cassandra - "Okay, Rapunzel. Now squeeze my hand if you feel pain somewhere."
This time, the reaction was almost immediate. Rapunzel’s fingers crushed Cassandra’s hand before loosening again.
Crap.
Cassandra took a deep breath, forcing her heart to slow down.
She had to stay calm. If she raised the pressure, Rapunzel would rise with it. And that was the worst thing that could happen.
She needed to know where Rapunzel was hurting. Again, touch was the easiest way. It also allowed Cassandra to check directly for anything abnormal: swelling, broken bones, anything that might need immediate care.
Cassandra - “I’m going to touch a few spots. Squeeze my hand when I reach one that hurts. Is that okay?”
Another squeeze. Good. Rapunzel had understood the pattern.
Cassandra gave Pascal a small nod, and the chameleon hopped off Rapunzel’s shoulder so he wouldn’t confuse the signal. Then Cassandra lifted her free hand and rested it gently against the back of Rapunzel’s head.
She waited.
No pressure. Good.
She moved to Rapunzel’s jaw. This time, Rapunzel’s fingers tightened around hers.
Right. Her jaw was clenched so hard Cassandra was almost surprised it hadn’t cracked.
Please tell me she didn’t bite her tongue.
Cassandra - "Jaw. Okay. Should I keep going?"
She had to show Rapunzel that she had noticed. That she understood what Rapunzel was trying to tell her, even when she couldn’t manage words.
Rapunzel gave the smallest nod. It was barely anything. But it was something.
She was beginning to come back to herself. Not fully. Not yet. But enough to answer in ways that were easier for Cassandra to read.
Slowly, Cassandra’s hand moved on. She brushed Rapunzel’s shoulder. Then the other. Then down along her ribs.
Rapunzel was pressed too tightly against the wall for Cassandra to reach her back properly.
Another squeeze came when Cassandra reached her waist.
That made sense. It was about the height of the dressing table, and judging by the state of the room, Rapunzel had probably backed into it hard.
Then another squeeze, when Cassandra reached her bare feet.
Cassandra - "So, jaw, waist, and feet. Got it."
On the surface, nothing looked serious or immediately dangerous. Good enough for now.
Third step: move her somewhere safer. Out of this minefield of broken glass. Which was probably the reason her feet hurt in the first place.
Cassandra - "This isn’t a good place for you to stay. I’m going to take you to your bed so you’ll be more comfortable. Is that okay?"
Once Rapunzel was somewhere safer, Cassandra would have more room to work. More room to help her calm down. Right now, even Cassandra was starting to struggle with the position. And at any moment, Rapunzel could hurt herself again.
But the question didn’t get the small squeeze Cassandra had been hoping for.
Instead, Rapunzel let out a long, distressed groan and yanked Cassandra’s hand toward her, almost pulling her off balance. Her other hand reached blindly for Cassandra’s clothes, and then she clung to her, burying her face against Cassandra’s chest without letting go.
Her breathing turned jerkier. Faster.
It took Cassandra a few moments to understand what had gone wrong.
Okay. Bad choice of words.
Rapunzel had thought she meant to leave her there alone.
Cassandra - "It's all right, Rapunzel. What if I hold you the whole way, and then sit with you?"
Again, several long seconds passed.
More than enough time for Cassandra to blame herself for making things worse.
Then, finally, she felt a nod against her shoulder.
Phew.
Cassandra - "Good. Now I need you to let go of my hand and reach up around my neck. Can you do that?"
A new moan.
Letting go of her hand was difficult. Cassandra could feel it in the way Rapunzel’s fingers hesitated, loosening and tightening again before they finally released her.
Then Rapunzel lifted her arm.
The simple gesture made her whole body tremble. But she managed it, reaching the back of Cassandra’s neck and gripping it as if she were letting go of one handhold only to grab another over a cliff.
Cassandra - "Perfect. You're doing great, Raps."
Cassandra gave her a few moments of respite. She placed her right hand against Rapunzel’s back and stroked slowly, waiting for the worst of the tremors to pass.
Cassandra - "Now, I’m going to put one arm under your thighs and lift you up. You’ll be safe in my arms the whole way. Just squeeze the back of my neck when you’re ready."
One breath. Two breaths. Three.
Short. Shaky.
Then Rapunzel’s fingers tightened at the back of Cassandra’s neck. A moment later, her other hand joined the first, clinging there for good.
Clear enough. Cassandra braced herself, keeping one hand firm against Rapunzel’s back as she shifted her weight. Then she slid her other arm under Rapunzel’s thighs and lifted her carefully, bringing Rapunzel’s chest against her shoulder as she stood.
Rapunzel let out a small, frightened gasp the moment she left the protective cocoon of her hair. But she didn’t struggle.
Instead, she pressed herself even closer, clinging to Cassandra as if distance itself had become dangerous.
Cassandra carried her quickly to the royal bed, then sat down sideways on the mattress and settled Rapunzel beside her with as much care as she could. Far enough from the edge that her feet wouldn’t touch the floor.
And all the while, Cassandra kept one hand against Rapunzel’s back. Just as she had promised.
Cassandra - "Here we are. Safe on your bed."
Pascal had hopped up beside them too. He looked sad and worried, watching Rapunzel curl against Cassandra with her face hidden against her shoulder.
Now that Rapunzel was out of immediate danger, Cassandra could finally focus on soothing her.
The first checks were done. The first dangers handled. And without them, Cassandra had no clear steps left to follow. So the easiest thing was to ask. Rapunzel was the best person to know what would help her, after all.
Cassandra let a few seconds pass, stroking Rapunzel’s back in slow, broad gestures. Trying to wrap her in the feeling of something steady. Something safe.
Then she whispered.
Cassandra - "Raps?"
In answer, Rapunzel clung to her a little tighter. Almost trying to climb into her, as if letting go for even a second might make Cassandra disappear.
Cassandra - "I'm staying. Don’t worry. Do you want me to check what hurts on your feet?"
A small nod. Good.
Cassandra gently took Rapunzel’s wrists, easing the little koala grip loose.
The fact that Rapunzel let her do it probably meant she trusted Cassandra not to leave. Probably.
In any case, Cassandra shifted carefully, keeping some point of contact between them the whole time, until she could rest Rapunzel’s legs across her lap and inspect the damage.
As expected, there were several small cuts on the sole of Rapunzel’s right foot. Dried blood mixed with fresh, and Cassandra could see a few shards of glass still embedded in the skin. The largest was about the size of her fingernail.
That was going to take more than her bare hands to clean properly.
But Rapunzel was in no condition to let Cassandra leave. Not even with a promise to come right back. If Cassandra tried, she was pretty sure Rapunzel would panic all over again.
Cassandra - "Pascal, I've got a mission for you. I need a pair of tweezers and a damp cloth."
The chameleon gave an approving squeak, then jumped off the bed and ran off.
While waiting for him to come back, Cassandra could work on Rapunzel’s breathing.
That was the most important step now. The one that would make everything else easier.
Cassandra - "Rapunzel? I want you to take a deep breath for me. Can you do that?"
Again, several seconds passed without any reaction.
That was normal. As simple as the request might seem to Cassandra, she knew Rapunzel needed effort for everything in this state. Even breathing on command. She needed time to prepare.
Finally, Cassandra heard her inhale.
It was clumsy and wheezy, too high in her chest and not deep enough in her stomach. But she was trying.
Cassandra - "Great. Now hold it and count to seven. I’ll count with you."
Cassandra pressed her fingers lightly against Rapunzel’s skin once. Then again. Marking each silent number.
Words alone might be too much. Touch gave Rapunzel something simpler to follow.
Cassandra - "Now, breathe out."
At those words, Cassandra pressed her fingers against Rapunzel’s skin again. This time, she didn’t release the pressure.
A tactile guide. Something easier for Rapunzel to follow than the annoyed “Just breathe!” Cassandra had stubbornly repeated the first few times this kind of shutdown had happened.
She kept the pressure steady for a few seconds, giving Rapunzel time to empty as much air from her lungs as she could.
Cassandra - "That’s perfect. Now we’re going to do it again. Breathe in deeply, hold for seven, then breathe out."
She kept guiding her with gentle pressure against her ankles.
Release: breathe in.
Seven short presses: hold.
Steady pressure: breathe out.
After a few cycles, Rapunzel began to find the rhythm. Her breathing adjusted to Cassandra’s touch, growing slower. Deeper. Calmer.
Step by step, Cassandra lessened the pressure. Made it lighter. Less noticeable. Let Rapunzel take over more of the work. Until, finally, Cassandra stopped completely. And listened.
Rapunzel kept breathing deeply.
Not naturally. It was too regular for that; Cassandra could tell she was still counting. But she was managing on her own.
Cassandra counted three full breaths without needing to guide her before glancing up at her face.
Rapunzel was no longer staring into space. Her eyes were closed now. Whether she was relaxing or exhaustion was finally catching up with her, Cassandra couldn’t tell.
Either way, it was better. Rapunzel was able to follow a pattern again.
That was a big step. And usually, the hardest one to reach.
Not every shutdown came with the kind of panic Rapunzel had shown today. Most of them were quieter. Less visible. Moments where Rapunzel simply stopped, unable to figure out how to do the simplest things. As if one emotion too many could make her forget how to move, how to speak, even how to breathe.
Cassandra - "You're doing great, Raps. I'm proud of you."
Encouragement mattered.
Cassandra still didn’t know what had caused this shutdown.
She had learned not to trust the obvious trigger too much. Sometimes the thing that broke Rapunzel was only the last pebble on a pile Cassandra hadn’t seen building.
But over time, Cassandra had noticed one thread that came back again and again. Something would make Rapunzel feel small. Inadequate. Unfit for the world. Good for nothing but hiding.
No mystery where that came from. Years locked away. Years being told the world was too dangerous for her, that she was too fragile for it, too helpless, too naive.
Most of the time, Rapunzel acted as if she had rejected every word Gothel had ever said. As if the world was perfectly safe, everything was wonderful, and she herself was invincible.
But the moment something seemed to prove Gothel right, Rapunzel swung to the other extreme.
Either Gothel had lied about everything, or Gothel had been right about everything.
Rapunzel did not need nuance explained to her in moments like this. Not yet. Right now, she needed to be reminded that she could do things.
That she was doing them already.
Finally, a small squeak drew Cassandra’s attention. Pascal was back, dragging a first-aid kit almost bigger than he was, with the damp cloth balanced on top. He hauled it in front of Cassandra, then let out a tiny exhausted huff.
Cassandra - "Thanks, Pascal."
Cassandra patted Rapunzel’s ankle again to get her attention.
Cassandra - "Rapunzel? I’m going to take care of your foot now. Are you ready?"
Rapunzel nodded slowly.
Good. She was mostly back to communicating. Mostly aware of her surroundings again.
So Cassandra began removing the pieces of glass embedded in her skin.
She felt Rapunzel shudder every time she touched a shard. Her leg twitched, and her breathing trembled, the careful rhythm becoming harder for her to hold.
But Pascal helped. His enormous eyes caught the tiny glints of glass Cassandra might have missed, and whenever he tapped beside one with a tiny claw or circled it with his tail, she followed his lead.
Soon enough, Cassandra had removed the last of the glass, cleaned away the blood, and wrapped a bandage around Rapunzel’s foot.
Cassandra - "All right, it’s done, Raps. Nothing else to bother you with."
She gently rested Rapunzel’s leg back on the mattress. But she kept her hand there a little longer.
No reason to break the contact too soon.
Cassandra - "Do you want me to stay, or should I let you rest?"
Rapunzel - "Stay..."
Well. She had managed a word. Her voice was hoarse and broken, but she had spoken.
Cassandra smiled softly. Rapunzel was still motionless, eyes closed, still trying to keep her breathing under control. She wasn’t quite herself again yet, but she was getting there.
Cassandra - "Okay, princess. How about I brush your hair?"
Rapunzel nodded again. Then, slowly and awkwardly, she pressed her hands against the mattress and pushed herself up until she was sitting cross-legged. Breaking, on her own, the prolonged contact Cassandra had kept since taking her hand.
Permission enough.
Cassandra reached for the hairbrush on the bedside table, then settled behind Rapunzel, a steady wall at her back, and began brushing through the tangled seventy feet of gold.
She did not ask what had happened. Not yet. There would be time for that later, if Rapunzel wanted to tell her.
For a long while, brushing her hair was all she did. Slow, careful strokes. One after another.
Enough time for Rapunzel’s breathing to settle back into a natural rhythm.
Enough time for the silence to stop meaning danger.
Enough time, at last, for the world to become small and gentle enough to bear.