The Price of Longing

  ***

   

  The witch left before the sun was up. She tossed the rugs out the window one by one, using her magic to waft them gently to the ground. She set three covered trays on the table: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Rapunzel pretended to be asleep until her mother kissed her forehead and bade her goodbye. “I will be back by nightfall,” she whispered. Then she unfurled the last rug, flung it out the window, hopped on, and rode it down from the tower.

  Rapunzel waited until the sun was up, then got out of bed, washed, dressed, and ate. Then she went to the window, braid in one hand, bundle in another. Her stomach was roiling as she peered over the edge. It was so very far to the bottom. Her mind began to race. Which direction should she go in? What if she ran into wild animals or brigands? She began to change her mind entirely about leaving. It was a stupid, dangerous idea, after all.

  She sat next to the window and began to cry out of frustration, with herself and her situation. She cried until she heard the thumping of hooves on the ground, and a voice calling, “Hello?”

  Rapunzel held her breath and pulled back to hide against the wall. “Is anyone there?” the voice called again. It was a young voice, clear and masculine. “Are you all right? I heard you crying… where are you?” The voice sounded amazed, “Where did this spire come from? Surely natural rock could not have… there’s a hole at the top.”

  Rapunzel poked her head out and looked down. At the base of the tower stood a young man in fine clothes, with broad shoulders and dark hair. He was squinting up at the top of the tower. Beside him was a white horse, whickering softly and nibbling at the greenery around the base of the tower. “Hello, there!” he called. “Were you the one I heard a moment ago?”

  “Yes,” she said, hesitantly.

  “What are you doing up there? What is this thing?” he asked, reaching out a hand to touch the rough surface.

  “It’s a tower. My mother made it,” Rapunzel answered. After talking to no one but her mother for so long, it was strange and wonderful to talk to another person. “She imprisoned me here.”

  “Why?”

  Rapunzel shrugged. “Because I started growing up, I guess. She wanted to keep me away from the boys in town. To keep me for herself.” Bitterness seeped into her voice. “She keeps thinking I’m going to get myself with child if she so much as lets me go into town with her to sell her rugs. That’s where she is today.”

  “That’s terrible, keeping a person locked up like that,” the prince said. “Where did my manners go? I’m Prince Caleb of the West Kingdom.” He bowed.

  “I’m Rapunzel, your highness,” Rapunzel answered.

  “Forgive my forwardness, but may I come up? It’s hurting my neck to stare up like this. Not that I would mind staring up at your beauty all day, my lady,” he said, and even from that distance, Rapunzel could see that his grin made him all the more handsome. “Where’s the entrance?” he asked.

  “Just this window.”

  His brow furrowed in confusion. “Am I supposed to climb up?”

  “My mother uses her magic to raise herself. Wait, I have a braid. I was going to use it to escape. You can climb up using that.” Rapunzel turned and grabbed the loose end of the rope. She flung it out the window.

  It took little time for the prince to climb up, as he was strong and athletic. Indeed he wasn’t breathing very hard when he climbed into the window.

  She helped him to a chair and poured him a glass of water. “Here,” she said, giving him the glass. He gulped it down, and handed it back with thanks.

  The prince smiled. “By God, you are more beautiful than I could tell from down there. I can see why she wants to keep you locked up, though I’m sure the men of this kingdom would hate her for it if they knew.”

  Rapunzel blushed, her breath taken by his passionate words. “Thank you, your highness.”

  “Please, call me Caleb, dear lady,” he insisted. Rapunzel dared to look into his eyes. Even when he stood at the bottom of the tower, she could tell Prince Caleb was handsome, but up close he was more so. She judged him to be a few years older than herself. His eyes were a warm brown; his hair, thick and dark, was held back by a gold circlet studded with gems. He had a strong chin, muscular arms, a ready smile. He smelled slightly of sweat from his climb, but it was pleasant.

  It had been months since she had seen a man, and being so close to one now, and such a handsome one was making her heart pound and her mouth go dry. Rapunzel poured herself some water and sipped it, trying to will her cheeks to stop burning, her hands to stop trembling. “You were trying to escape?” Caleb asked.

  “Yes,” she replied. “My mother will be gone all day, so I figured this was the best time to attempt it. But I lost my nerve; I didn’t know where to go, how I would get there, or what I might run into on the way. So I hesitated. That’s why I was crying, and you heard me.” She set her glass down and folded her hands in her lap. “So, what is a prince doing so far out in the country?” she asked.

  “My father sent me to survey the perimeter of our lands, to learn the lay of it, to witness what will someday be mine, to go out among the people. I was raised in the castle, and I have traveled to other kingdoms, but my own is still a strange land to me. I haven’t been out in it enough, he said, and it stretched much farther than the forests around the castle where we hunt. I see now that he is right. I have been riding for days.”

  “And you ride alone? I would have expected a retinue and soldiers,” Rapunzel marveled.

  Caleb shook his head. “He wanted me to go alone, as a free man would. It is easy enough to pass through the country, and vagabonds have not bothered me for my riches, not after they see this seal.” He held up his fist to show his signet ring: a lion rampant between a sword and a staff of oak. “I have seen so many things, but you… a beautiful young woman, untouched by any man?”

  Rapunzel nodded. Gideon’s kisses didn’t count, she knew. “Then let me be the first.” He took her hand and she almost swooned. She couldn’t believe that merely the touch of his hand could awaken such desire in her. “Rapunzel, through this entire kingdom I have not seen one woman I would wish to make my wife as much as I do you. Will you come and marry me, become a princess and one day queen?”

  Rapunzel couldn’t speak. “I can’t believe this is happening. I must be asleep, waiting for my mother to come wake me,” she breathed.

  “I am real, I assure you,” Caleb said, cupping her cheek in his hand, “though I also wonder if I am dreaming.” She closed her eyes and shivered. Here was her escape, her handsome prince to save her like in the stories.

  “I will,” she agreed. “I will, I will!” Rapunzel thrilled to see Caleb’s smile. He leaned close to her, kissed her lips, and somehow it was a hundred times more exciting than Gideon’s sloppy fumblings behind the stable. Caleb parted her lips with his tongue. Rapunzel wanted nothing more than to peel off her dress and press her bare skin against his.

  “So lovely,” the prince murmured, kissing her neck. He ran his fingers through her golden hair, teasing it out of its braid to tumble free around them, a shining curtain. He stood and drew her up against him, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. It increased her giddiness. She had the wild idea to pull him towards the bed, and he followed her, over and down, onto the soft mattress.

  He made love to her until the sun reached the apex of its journey and began to fall. They lay and played and cuddled and talked so long that they lost track of time, and soon the sky began to dim. Rapunzel gazed lazily at the window, saw the deepening dark outside, and stiffened. Caleb felt her tense and asked what was wrong.

  “Dusk!” Rapunzel cried, leaping from bed and gathering up clothing. “You must go! My mother will be back any minute!” She tossed the prince his fine, beautiful clothing and pulled on her own. She frantically pulled her fingers through her mussed hair. “Go down the rope,” she urged as Caleb pulled on his clothes. “I’ll gather it up after you’re gone.”

&n
bsp; “I will come back for you,” he promised as he scrambled. “Here!” He yanked the signet ring off of his finger and thrust it at her. “Keep this, until I return.” He kissed her hurriedly.

  “When will I see you again?” Rapunzel asked.

  “Soon,” he assured her. “As soon as I can, I’ll return to bring you back with me. I love you, Rapunzel.”

  “I love you too, Caleb,” she said. She let him go. He climbed down the rope, mounted his horse, and gave her one last, long look before galloping off.

  Rapunzel gathered up the rope, untied it, coiled it, and hid it under the mattress again. She sat on the bed, holding the ring in her hand, feeling the insignia. She slid it on one finger after another; it was so big that it slid off even her thumb. She didn’t know if she felt different. She looked at herself in her hand mirror, trying to see if there was a change in her, something her mother would notice. She felt sore, between her legs, and tired, but deliriously happy. She had hope, now. She would escape. She would just have to wait a little longer, keep up the charade a little more.

  After hiding the ring away, Rapunzel undressed and washed herself. She smelled like him still, and she was sure her mother would be able to smell it too. Clean and in her nightgown, she went to the table to eat the food her mother had set out. Her stomach growled as she devoured the meal.

  It was another hour before her mother returned. The sky was black. The witch came through the window, bundles of wool following her up. She smiled at her daughter. Rapunzel smiled back, shaking inside in fear of her mother discovering what had happened. “I’m sorry I’m late,” her mother said. “The shepherd was trying to cheat me, selling for almost twice the price this was worth. I haggled with him for what seemed like an hour.” She sat down at the table where Rapunzel sat. “I didn’t forget you, my dear,” she said, reaching into her pocket. She brought out a ribbon of shiny red satin. “Isn’t it lovely? Here, I’ll do up your hair for you.”

  Rapunzel’s stomach knotted up guiltily. Her mother brushed her hair, crooning to her as though she was a child. Yet she was a girl no longer. Soon, she would run away and be a prince’s wife. She ached to confess, to tell her mother everything, to try and explain why she had to leave. She wanted to say goodbye. But she knew that if she said a word, her mother would lock her up so tightly that Caleb would not be able to get to her even with an army of men.

  “There,” the witch said, tying the ribbon into a bow on the end of Rapunzel’s braid. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s that funny smell?” she asked.

  Rapunzel froze. “I don’t smell anything, mother,” she lied.

  The witch shrugged. “Your bedclothes could probably use a wash, that’s all. Tomorrow, then.” She kissed Rapunzel on the cheek. “Goodnight, my sweet. Pleasant dreams.”

  “Goodnight,” Rapunzel replied. The witch leapt out of the window and floated down.

  The witch knew what she smelled. Though she had never had a husband or a child, the witch had taken lovers, and the smell of sex was unmistakable. The little whore… she didn’t know how Rapunzel had done it, or how she could prove it, but a man had been up in the tower, and he—

  The witch clenched her jaw and slammed the door shut behind her as she went into the cottage. “No matter how I try,” she muttered to herself. Part of her argued that it was nature, that trying to hold it back was like trying to change the seasons backwards. Nature would win in the end.

  But what are a witch’s powers for if not for bending nature to her whim?

  The witch leafed through her books, looking for a recipe for a potion, the one she used on the desperate women who used to come to her when she lived in the village. She found it, marked the page, and put the book back on the shelf. If she needed it, she would be ready.