If a girl is forgotten, does she still exist?
If her cries are never heard, did she ever cry at all?
You mark another day in your room robotically but come to a halt when you realize how long it’s been.
Tally after tally mark your walls criss crossing in each way. They’re numerous. You remember a time when they barely reached eye level. The bottom of your walls have no space left and so you’re forced to stand on tip toe.
You walk all around your room seeing no space is left undrawn. There are marks on the closet. There are tallies on every space of wall in your room. You can’t liftingeven begin to count them.
That is when your hope dies.
No one is coming to rescue you.
All that time wasted. No prince came to rescue you. No one called for you. You were ignored. Not one soul tried to save you and its not a feeling you’ll soon forget.
Unlike every other time this feeling comes, you don’t fight it.
You let it in, surrender to it and let anger fester.
If no one will rescue you, you’ll do it yourself.
You run back to the window looking for the damned hook and smile at the gold glint.
You heave your hair out the window grunting at the effort.
After a couple times, it falls out and you laugh in triumph seeing the hair spill onto the tower from what seems to be only a foot short of the ground.
Feeling accomplished, you begin your braid.
Three quarters in, you see where you went wrong.
You keep a tight grip on your hair ignoring the twinges of pain from your scalp.
You look down and shriek at how far away the ground is. Your hair is not as long as you thought. There’s still too much distance for you to jump. Terrified, you cling into your braid.
Your heart nearly beats out your chest.
You stay there for what feels like your hours.
Your fingers burn from your grip and you can feel your hold gradually lessen as each minute passes.
Then your ears hear an almost forgotten sound.
Are those horses?
You hear the hooves thundering steps until stop right behind you.
You turn your head feeling nauseous at the sight of the far away ground but need to know who’s there.
On the ground was what you can tell is a lord or prince and a knight you’ve never seen. The prince or lord looks like most of the high born. He is clean almost obsessively pristine with every hair in place. The gold of his lion emblem gleams in the sun and you faintly recognize the symbol from tutors.
The knight however is unfamiliar. He has a cape shining a bright red. The armor is one you’ve never seen with what looks like bronze buttons going down his arms. His shoulder pads are leather with gold and burgundy designs. His helmet covers almost the entirety of his face in chain and steel.
“Who goes there? ” you ask suspicious of these unfamiliar men.
The knight turns quickly
The blonde noble ignores the warning look from his knight.
“I am Prince Philip, ” he bows and gestures to the foreign knight. “This is my friend Mulan of the East.”
Mulan doesn’t bow only nods his head to you briefly.
“Do you require assistance?” Prince Philip calls to you and a big part of your ego wants to tell him you need nothing.
That was before a shriek escaped your throat as you suddenly dropped two feet.
The rapid descent plunges your heart into your throat.
“Stay there!” He screams and you can’t even think anything witty when you’re this terrified.
“What’s your name?” He yells out and you really want to scream how unimportant that is but you can barely breathe through your panic.
“Princess Y/N!” You manage to scream and by some grace there’s maybe six inches of hair left.
“I thought you were Rapunzel!”
You roll your eyes and almost answer before your hand suddenly slips.
Then you’re airborne.
Instead of screaming for the prince, the name of his knight bursts through your throat.
The ground is coming fast and you catch a sob in your throat trying to cover your face.
Wind whizzes past you, stomach clenching and frozen in terror you think you’re ego is going to kill you.
Then something grabs you tight and you hold on burying yourself in the smell of leather.
The helmet flies in the air as she drives after you before you touch the ground.
You feel myself move midfall before rolling on the ground and coming to a stop in the grass.
You look taking a shaky breath at who’s under you.
It’s a woman. Startled brown eyes watch your face and you can’t help your breath catching. She’s lean more muscular than you you’re sure but there’s an underlying grace to it men seem to miss. Her hair fans around her dark and shining like raven feathers.
Blushing, you rise offering her a hand.
She takes it watching you warily and you grin embarrassed.
“Thank you, Lady Mulan of the East,” you say giving her a title in respect. “May I give you a token of my favor?”
Two perfectly arched eyebrows rise to her forehead but she still puts one leather clad hand out.
You untie a ribbon from your hair with care and tie it to her wrist making sure it won’t leave easily.
“I have much respect for a woman warrior with honor.”
You feel her eyes watching you as you slowly step aside.
“I promise this is not a common action of mine. I grew tired of waiting to be rescued only to need rescue.”
A rebellious part of you questions why you care what she thinks of you but you ignore it remembering the wisdom in her eyes.
Mulan’s voice is low but undecidedly feminine.
“I have much respect for a person willing to take charge. Very brave if perhaps a little under thought. ”
You bite your lip stunned at her gall but respect her all the more for it.
“Bravery is partial stupidly,” you retort smirking and smile wide at her reaction.
She smiles and her dimples give you an odd feeling in your stomach.
“Perhaps,” Mulan says and tries to contain her smile.
“Perhaps you both have a need for a brave princess,” you glance between the two and see them share a glance.
Mulan is the first to speak.
“Brave or stupid, I suppose she can accompany us.”
You smile walking with her to the horses.
She swiftly jumps on precise and strong.
This time it is Mulan who offers a hand and you take it endeared and half crushing on such a honorable person already.
When you’re on securely, you hold on tight to her waist jumping with very step the horse takes,
You couldn’t be happier you finally let your long hair down.