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leoleolovesdc · 4 months

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I would love to write a TTS essay explaining why Gothel isn’t Cassandra’s mother and Frederick and Arianna aren’t Rapunzel’s parents and the show’s insistence on pushing parent/child struggles into those characters is kind of really forced so that’s exactly what I’m gonna do:

(Disclaimer: this got really messy and is kind of a bunch of nonesense glued together, so read it with a bit of patiece lmao)

Rapunzel grew up for the first 18 years of her life with Gothel, when TTS starts she has been living with Fred and Ari for 6 months and it’s wild to me how Raps already calls them mom and dad, but I won’t judge this part, she wants to be their daughter and wants to be a family so it makes sense that she would call them that way regardless if it feels natural or not, but I think where the series really fails is when it starts (by the very first episode) to give Rapunzel and Frederick father-daughter struggles, which is complete bs if you ask me, those two don’t know each other. Rapunzel shouldn’t have a “oh, I can’t disobey my father” train of thought because she doesn’t even know him and therefore he isn’t her father, at least not yet. She shouldn’t be so trusting of his judgement of love for her because they don’t have intimacy and the fact that they are fighting and disagreeing so much after having just reconnected is wild. Arianna is not that important for the plot, but her relationship with Rapunzel being so unapologetically perfect also rubs me the wrong way. Rapunzel was ruined by her mother, she was abused her whole life and I don’t think she would just let anyone fulfill the role Gothel did without getting some therapy to unpack everything wrong that her mother, the one that actually raised her, did.

Rapunzel had a narcissistic mother, an awlful one who never loved her, but that doesn’t mean that she didn’t love Gothel. Raps lived her whole by that woman’s side, she loved her more than anything in the world and realizing the manipulation and abuse wouldn’t just immediately stop a person as kind and forgiving as Rapunzel to still love her like a mother, because like it or not Gothel raised her for 18 years. She wasn’t a good mother by any means but she was her mother nonetheless.

Another point is that at the end of season one Rapunzel goes away from Corona to explore, learn about the world and her own powers. I am not exactly sure how much time passes from the beginning to the end of s1 but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t more than 6 months, so Rapunzel lives with her bio parents for about a year and then goes straight into a one year long self discovery journey and you’re trying to tell me that she missed them? Not even just missed, but when she got hold of an artifact that showed what you waned the most what she saw were her biological parents and the people of Corona who in the first episode she claims to not remember the names of? That’s some real bs right there and I have no idea how the show runners thought this made any sort of sense. She doesn’t fucking know them, maybe she respects or care about her folks, but she couldn’t have possibly built this life long parent/child relationship that the show treats like she did.

Now, with Cassandra it’s a bit more complicated. She lived with Gothel for about four years of her life before being abandoned, but she very obviously didn’t remember any of this, either because she was too young or because she repressed those memories. Gothel didn’t seem to love Cass in the slightest, but because Cass grew up with only a emotionally distant father she longed for this reassurance that she was loved by a parent figure at some point in her life, she blames Rapunzel for everything that went wrong with her life, which can make sense but also is a bit awkward to sustain once you analyze the actual facts. Yes, Rapunzel and Eugene killed Gothel, but she didn’t mean to do that, it was Eugene’s plan and he only did it because Raps had literally agreed to be used and locked up from the real world for the rest of her life. Cass isn’t dumb, she would know better than lashing out at her friends for accidentally saving her from living with a narcissist who didn’t care about her. Gothel isn’t Cassandra’s mother, Cass doesn’t have a mother because she didn’t have anyone to actually raise her.

If I was to rewrite Tangled we’d have a very different approach to how bio parents are handled, especially Rapunzel’s. I don’t think she should be close to Arianna and Frederick at all, heck, I don’t even think she should call them mom and dad. Cause bear with me, if you randomly found ot you are adopted by the time you were 18 and actually went to live with your biological family for about a year do you think you’d even have this sort of intimacy and bond with them?

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tpc-tangled-au · 1 year

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Chapter Six: Seeing The Lights

The magic of the fireflower healed the queen. And, just before dawn, a healthy baby boy—a prince—was born.

I’ll give you a hint, me lad: that’s your own Nuncle!

And for a time, his childhood was just as golden as his wild hair. Yes, it was, Baron, you needn’t give me that look. It truly was. I know.

Melisande was just closing the lid of her little box when something—and in a haunted castle, something could have been anything—burst into the kitchen like a fireball. If she hadn’t just set it on the counter, she’d have dropped it. But before she had time to think about the box, the fireball shouted in excitement.

“Sharp Eyes! Come see!”

She gasped and spun round to face the golden-haired boy and his grin. “Why, you silly, you nearly frightened me! Come see what?”

“It’s my birthday!”

“Aye, happy birthday again!” Her blue eyes widened. “Oh! I forgot your present! It’s still in my room!” And not wrapped either: the little felt cap, fashioned into the shape of a knight’s helmet, was still only hidden inside a pillowcase (and very carefully at that—she didn’t want the plume to break).

“But it’s not present time!” The five year old prince stamped his feet eagerly. “It’s time to come see! So come! Hurry! Hurry!” And he started pulling at her sleeve with impatience.

“Slow down, Naphetali! See what?”

He started to speak, but then stopped dead, staring at her for a moment. He looked perfectly flabbergasted. “You don’t amember?!”

“Ummm…” Little Melisande thought over all the things she could remember about her royal friend’s birthday. But she was six. There was only so much that stuck with her from year to year. “No?”

She almost expected Naphtali to be mad or disappointed. But she should’ve known better. A few seconds’ worth of time, and a humongous grin spread between his ears. “Then it’ll be a surprise! You can have a birthday surprise too! Oh, that’s defin’ly better.”

“Really?”

“YES! Now come here! Come see!”

And with that, he snatched her little hand and dashed off with her.

The pair of them scurried down the halls as quickly as if they were two little castle mice (though this castle had more ghosts than mice). They passed very few others, living or dead. That was something Melisande had noticed—there was almost no one in the castle. Most of them were gone, though she didn’t know or remember why.

That was why she was in the kitchen: she wanted to sneak some bits for her medicine box. Plants, herbs, little snips of things people weren’t using. Some of the things her grandad put in his medicine box. And she didn’t want to be in the way while she was getting them. Well, she also didn’t want anyone to see her doing it. She didn’t want anyone to take it.

“Oh, wait! My box!” And Melisande tried to stop, to go back. What if someone found it and didn’t know what it was? Or what if they did know?

But he pulled her on. “We’re gonna be late! We’ve got to hurry!”

In their hurry, they nearly barrelled right into two of the few still inside. When Melisande caught sight of their faces, she gasped so hard she could’ve inhaled her tonsils. But Naphtali only brightened.

“Hullo, Father! Hullo, Mother!”

King Frederick, the great lord and master who towered immensely over Melisande’s head, laughed. “You best watch your steps, son, or you’ll knock your royal mother right off her feet!”

“Oh! Pardon, Mother.” He let go his hold of Melisande to bow in apology.

But his mother, the wise Queen Eudoria whom any girl in the kingdom might want to learn from, only smiled. “All right, I pardon. At ease, my gallant little knight.”

Naphtali put his hands behind his back, but stood with feet together. Not quite how Melisande had seen soldiers stand “at ease.” But she had no time to consider it, for suddenly, the great kingly voice was speaking again… to her.

“You’re Jacob’s little granddaughter, aren’t you, lass?”

Speechless, Melisande bobbed a curtsy.

“She is!” Naphtali went on, stepping out of his ‘at-ease’ position. “She has a medicine box just like his, too!” At that, the startled Melisande shook his arm—she didn’t want it to be talked about! But Naphtali didn’t seem to notice. “It’s got all sorts of little bits and things! She left it in the kitchen. Oh! We need to make sure nobody messes with it!”

“Well, I’ll surely let the servants know,” nodded the king.

“Where are you and your little friend off to in such a rush?” asked the queen. “Or are you just excited to see the—”

“Mother!” exclaimed the prince. “It’s a surprise, because she doesn’t amember the—” He clapped his hands over his own mouth, as if stuffing the secret back inside. “You know!”

“Ahh, I see.” Queen Eudoria nodded knowingly. “Well, you have our leave to go. Don’t want you to be late to see your own celebration, do we?”

“Oh, thank you grandly, Mother! Farewell! And farewell, Father! Let’s hurry, Sharp Eyes!” He grabbed her hand and took off again, hardly giving her enough time to curtsy in parting. The two monarchs laughed as the youngsters departed.

“Where are we going?”

“Someplace high,” he grinned, never ceasing to move and run. “I wanted to go up to Ollie’s Ridge, but we’d be too late to see it if we walked all that way.”

She stumbled as she tried to keep up, and picked up her skirts with one hand. “Thank you, by the way. For making sure nobody touched my box.”

“Oh!” Naphtali gave her a funny look. “I didn’t know that was something to thank about.”

“Well… well, it is to me.”

They soon burst through a little door and out onto some of the battlements. Here, Melisande thought they might stop. But her friend kept bobbing and weaving and darting, constantly swiveling his head to look. Almost as dizzily as when he tried to end a dance. Well… perhaps not that dizzy.

“Aren’t we there?”

“It’s not high enough!” he protested, searching with a little agitation. “You’ve got to see it best!” His wandering eyes lighted on something. At that, his pattering footsteps stilled, and an excited grin was blazoned across his face.

Melisande followed his gaze. He was staring at a rooftop. One particular rooftop, higher than the battlements. Higher than anything in the castle, in fact, except for one, still-in-the-making tower. She’d seen some of the page boys climb up the side to that high rooftop on dares.

“It’s perf-ket! Why, it’s almost as high as Ollie’s Ridge itself!” And he scurried off toward it.

“Naphetali, wait!” This time, she did pull against him, eyes widening as they neared the side. “We can’t climb up there!”

“I’m not frightened! And you’ve got to see!” He let go her hand as they came to the battlements nearest it. He tried to clamber up onto them (though his legs were a little short for that). Melisande tugged on him again, but only lightly. She didn’t want to pull too hard and make him lose his balance. Her grandfather had tended too many lads who’d gotten hurt that way.

Before he could even get to a standing position, however, a figure in a red uniform swooped in and set him sturdily back on the ground. Melisande quietly sighed in relief. She couldn’t bear to see her friend get hurt like the other boys.

“Careful, Highness!” said a gently cautious voice, as the man attached to it steadied Naphtali on his feet. “I can’t let you go hurt yourself on your birthday.”

“But I wasn’t going to get hurt, Travers! I was just trying to get up high!”

A purposely patient tone entered his voice, as if repeating a well-worn conversation. “Well, accidents still happen, little prince. A lot of things happen when you don’t mean them to.”

“Well, not me.”

“And,” he added, settling a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “if we don’t hurry now, you might go and miss the ceremony when you don’t mean to!” And the raven-haired soldier started urging him along, though not roughly. “Let’s get you to your royal parents, Your Highness. I’m sure they’re waiting.”

Naphtali squirmed, trying to turn back. “Oh, but Travers—”

“Excuse me, Mr. Travers,” put in Melisande, tugging on his sleeve, “but the King and Queen did give him leave to go. I was with him when they said it.”

Travers turned his gaze toward her, head tilted. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Naphtali, whipping round. “They said I can go, and we haveto get up high, because Sharp Eyes doesn’t amember the li—I mean, the thing she has to see! And she has to see, cause it’s a surprise!”

The soldier glanced between them, seeming surprised himself. Then, he smiled softly. Melisande liked it when he smiled like that. It was kind. “Well… I suppose if it’s a surprise…”

“Yes! Yes! I can go!” And he started to scramble for the battlements again.

“Not that way, though! I do still have my duty to protect you, Prince Prometheus.”

Naphtali frowned, more at the name than anything else. But the man wasn’t finished. When he bent down to their level and continued, it was in a low, almost shrewd voice.

“But if you’d like to get to the height before it starts, and safely…” He leaned in with the utmost confidentiality. “There is a shortcut.”

Melisande’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. When she glanced over at her friend, his face wore the same look, if a bit more exaggerated.

“Just over to the right,” whispered Travers, jerking his head a little to the side, “there’s a pair of gargoyles. Slip behind them, and you’ll find a little stairway that winds through the stone. Then a flat place… and three large steps… and at the end is the rooftop.”

“Hurrah!” Naphtali clapped his hands, and his voice was half-hushed with the secrecy of the information.

“But…” Melisande hesitated, “mightn’t it be a danger?” She’d never been up on a rooftop before. She’d climbed trees, and she’d dreamed of flying, and she wasn’t really afraid of heights. But she couldn’t get the thought of those boys out of her head.

Yet it seemed Travers knew her fears already. “It was made to be a safe place to stand. It’s flat at the top, and wide. And see there?” He bent toward her and pointed it out. “Along the lower edge?”

Melisande nodded. “It looks like a fence.”

“It’s very like one. It’s meant to keep people from simply rolling off, and not just with a physical barrier.” When her glance fell, confused, he tilted her chin up with a gentle finger. “People may have hurt themselves in climbing foolishly up the sides, but no one has ever fallen from that rooftop. No one.”

At last, Melisande returned the smile. It seemed to brighten his mood as well.

But there was one whose mood never needed brightening. “Thanks, good Travers!” he cried, saluting widely. “You needn’t fret for us any longer!” Naphtali started to hurry off, but something stopped him, spinning him on his heels. “But are you sure the passage is still there? You don’t think the gargoyles moved it?”

For the first time that day (at least that Melisande had seen), Travers laughed. “Your Highness, I’m sure. If the gargoyles had moved it, I’d know. After all, I’ve been a soldier in your father’s service for five years! I know this castle like…” He held up his gloved left hand. He glanced at it. Then, on second thought, he lowered it. “…like the back of my hand.”

“And a good hand, too!” Then, with his own, Naphtali tugged along on Melisande’s. “Come now, Sharp Eyes! We must hurry ever so much if we want to see! Hurry!”

“I am!” But before she followed, she turned to the soldier and curtseyed. “Thank you kindly, Mr. Travers.”

At this, he said nothing. But he smiled that smile of his, and bowed slightly with a hand over his heart. And Melisande hurried on after her friend. Her little friend, anyway.

The two of them ran right and soon found the foretold gargoyles, side by side, as if guarding the castle’s secrets. “Greetings, good sirs!” saluted Naphtali cheerily as they passed. “It’s my birthday, did you know?”

“You’re doing quite fine jobs, too, gentlemen,” she added, hiding a secret smile of her own at the prince’s courtesy.

“Gentlemen monsters!” Naphtali laughed, but more delighted by the thought than scornful.

Just as Travers had said, there was a little stairway just beyond. Naphtali hurried them up it, pulling and urging. Melisande had to slow him a little to keep either from tripping. As they rushed, her friend chattered.

“Travers is really a fine fellow, you know, but he’s too official.”

“Well, he is a soldier.”

“But you call me Naphtali! You don’t mind! But he keeps calling me the other name.”

“Promitheus is your right name, though! And it’s sort of a nice name.”

“I don’t think so.” He frowned. “That’s why I picked a better one, from that old story Lazarus told us! Sir Naphtali was a knight of King Thomas the Fearless, and he helped fight off the shamans of Mount Redcap!” He brandished an imaginary sword and lunged at lengthening shadows.

“Aye, and a man of great name. I like it too.” She cocked her head, thinking it over. “But perhaps, someday, you might have both names, and put them together for a grand royal title. Naphetali Promitheus the Golden-Haired!”

“Hmm, I don’t think so!”

With that, and with a little smile, Melisande let it go. There was no talking him into it. He had an idea in his head, and he was holding onto it. He always did. He was so funny.

The stairs ended in a flat place, still surrounded by stone and tile. There were the three large steps leading up. But the two of them were too small to have any kind of view. The winter sky overhead was shifting from purple to blue.

“Don’t look!”

“What?”

“It’s almost gonna start, you have to close your eyes!”

She eyed the steps uncertainly. “But I’ll trip.”

“No you won’t, I’ll make you not trip! That’s the knightly thing to do, just like Father says. He’s always helping Mother not to trip.”

Hesitating, she covered her eyes with one hand. With the other, she gripped his tight.

Despite his best efforts, she did stumble a time or two. Partly, it was her own skirts getting in the way. Partly, it was the stairs themselves, which would have taken a man only a large step to mount. For them, it was all clambering and climbing. But he never let her lose her balance. He never let go of her hand.

They came to the end of the third and last step, and Melisande felt flat ground (though it wasn’t really ground) beneath her shoes. Still, Naphtali led her along, walking now instead of climbing. They stopped. Moved a few feet over. Stopped again.

“Now… look!”

Melisande opened her eyes at last. And she saw. At last, she saw.

The seeing took her breath away. From that high rooftop, she could see, from all over the town, from everywhere in sight, things floating into the air. So many colours, glowing like winter fireflies, like cardinals and greenfinches and bluebirds all with stars inside them. It was high, and huge, and heavenly.

“The lights!”

“Uh-huh!” She could sort of see Naphtali nod proudly, but she did not turn to look.

“Oh, Naphtali, the lights! I didn’t remember!”

“That’s why it’s a good surprise! Aren’t they so much nicer than fireworks?”

Melisande laughed. Out of awe and delight, she laughed, staring into the sky. She'd certainly dreamed of flying before. But oh, to fly now, with the lights! To soar surrounded by this colour and beauty! Her breath escaped her, clouding the cold air.

She glanced at her friend, about to reply. But she stopped. Naphtali was staring at her, mouth slightly open. His grey eyes gleamed wide in the light.

“What?”

“I never heard you laugh afore.”

“Oh.” Melisande shrank, just a little. “Is it bad?”

“Nuh-uh.” He shook his head, his grin returning. “’s nice.”

Naphtali smiled at her, just a little moment more, before he looked back out at the lights. It didn’t take long for excitement to spark in him again, and he soon started eagerly pointing out the splendidest lanterns, guessing who made which one, and bouncing on his heels. And Melisande smiled too. She liked the lights. But she decided she liked them standing right here much better than she would like them flying.

She didn’t notice that he hadn’t let go of her hand. But then, neither did he.

~~*~~

[Chapter 1/Writing the Story]

[Chapter 5/The Impossible Blossom] ... [Chapter 6/you are here!] ... [Chapter 7/Frey]

Also found on AO3, if you'd like to hop on over!

#tpc tangled au #the kingdom of othrys au #the actual fic #salt and light #naphtali #melisande #king frederick #queen eudoria #travers

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