Before she was Mother Gothel, they called her Eloise. When their children were sick, when the rains didn't come, when the winter was long, they called her name, and she was there to help. She was the guardian angel of the city of Corona, the savior of the weak. She used her magic for the good of all, and was loved…or so she thought.
For the kingdom, the difference between a cleric and a witch was simply a matter of perspective.An order was passed down to heal the soldiers for the coming war. The order was refused, and years of goodwill and gratitude turned into fear and loathing. The good witch became an evil old hag. Her kindness turned into cruelty, Her blessings became hexes, her boons became curses, although nothing changed.
And so, she retreated deeper into the forest. Her tower of healing became a tower of solitude. She was old, older than most. She had saved generations with her own hands. Hundreds of infants cried for the first time in her arms, but here she was at the end of her life, with nobody to cry for her. Her name was forgotten, and she was Gothel, Grim Guardianess of the woods.
As she looked up to the heavens with remorse, the sun shone for the better or worse. It shed a single tear, and where it fell, a golden flower bloomed, unmoved by the witch's spell. The witch watered it, and thus regained her youth. A second chance, a new beginning? It was all but truth.
Word got out about the golden blossom of youth. Soldiers were sent to retrieve it. The queen was with child, and her heir must have it all. The king's puppets climbed her thorny fences, and stole across the lawn under the veil of darkness. The next morning, the flower was gone, and the witch knew it was stolen.
In a fit of rage and desperation, she rushed into the queen's chambers to retrieve what was hers, only to see that it was too late. The flower’s nectar was drunk, and the child was born. She looked at the heir's glowing gold hair, she knew what was to be done. The sun had given her a daughter, to raise as her own.
And so, they spent their days in that doorless tower, with Mother Gothel going out every day to tend to her crops and animals, and to deal with any unsavory intruders trying to cash in the kingdom’s bounty on the lost princess and the witch who stole her.
They were good days. Mother Gothel had watched hundreds of children grow up, but never raised one. Motherhood wasn't easy, even for her, who had who watched time flow. She did her best to keep her golden child safe from the prying eyes and grabbing hands of the kingdom, only to fall prey to fate's custom.
A wanted swashbuckler had been talking to her daughter. With quick wit for spats and a large bounty on his head, backed by his good old friend Maximus whose only response was "Neigh" to his antics, Eugene was known for the charm with which he picked woman up, and the callosity with which he left them behind. Mother Gothel had warned Rapunzel of the dangers of the men outside, but in a classic teenage fashion, she believed he was the one and thus, she eloped from the haven she now called hell.
With her fair share of teenage runaways, Mother Gothel wasn't mad at Rapunzel. She brought her back against all pleas, scared the thief off with warnings of death and disease. It was the right way to handle it, but not if the kingdom gets involved, and to none's surprise, it did.
Angry red flames licking at her tower. Black smoke, so thick, it flowed into her throat like seawater. A missing daughter. The kingdom had once again stolen what was hers, and burnt down the rest. Down with despair and grim with grief, she made way to the castle one last time, and when she realised that she couldn't, she lashed back at the one who spelled the beginning of the end: Eugene, that thief.
The world is an unfair place, and doubly so for those they call witches. Rapunzel gave up the golden tear, and with that her mother’s life, for Eugene. The queen had other children, of course, who were raised by nobles, taught the ways of royalty. The Lost Princess of Corona was now the black sheep of the family, with a thief for a husband. True to his manners, when Eugene learnt he wouldn’t be made a noble through marriage, he left as well.
Once a golden child of the sun, Rapunzel, now free from heights of shelter, was humbled to the ground, as she bore her unfaithful husband's children at the expense of her towering pride.
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