A Scene from Tangled

This was something I wrote when my daily exercise was "write a scene out from a movie." A thought Tangled was a natural pick, as it already has a narrative quality to it. So as you might already guess, it is written in first person from the point of view of Flynn Rider (Eugene Fitzherbert.)

~*~*~*~*~*~

I jolted awake when I felt something wet and sticky slap against the inside of my ear. I shook my head trying to get the feeling out. The state of my ear quickly became less important as I noticed where I was. I was in a deeply shadowed room, but I myself was in a circle of light shining through a large window.

This wasn't what was particularity alarming though. It was the fact that I was tied to a chair.

Tied with long thick cords perhaps I should say locks, of...

Hair?

I pulled against my binds, following the tick sweeps of blond hair as it climbed up the furniture to a beam.

"Struggling is pointless," stuttered the figure crouched on the beam. The voice was that of a young woman, scared and highly unsure of herself, if I had to guess.

This only added to my confusion. Let's make that extreme confusion. One moment I was minding my own business, reveling in my glorious triumph, and about to give that beautiful tiara a closer look when BAM. I felt a jarring bolt across the back of my head, and then I work up in this...situation.

I watched as the girl swung down from the beam, eventually landing on the floor, still deeply covered by the shaodws. She crouched behind a pillar, holding some sort of oddly shaped weapon out in front of her.

"I know why you're here," the girl said in a forced voice, "and I'm not afraid of you."

The girl was obviously terrified, but I was too busy trying to figure out what on earth was going on to bother with telling her so.

The girl finally crept out of the shadows, pulling herself up straight, confusion, a bold attempt at trying not to look scared, and a little excitement. And her eyes were...beautiful. Her face was that of an innocent young girl, mature yet oddly carefree. And her body, dang. She held it a bit awkwardly, but man did that girl have a nice figure, and a pretty face to boot, but I already said that. If I hadn't been tide to ac hair by the thick locks of her, (I still cringe at thinking about it) hair I might have taken her aside right then and there.

"Who are you?" she demanded firmly, the fear no longer as evident in her voice, "and how did you find me?"

"Uh hu," is all I managed to get out. Between my confusion of this entire situation, and my discovery that my captor just happened to be an attractive girl, my usually very collected mind was a bit scattered.

"Who are you and how did you find me?" the girl repeated.

I snapped out of my daze and cleared my throat. 'I know not who you are," (which was perfectly true) "nor how I came to find you," (which was somewhat of a lie,) "but may I just say," (dramatic pause....) "hi." I slapped on my most cocky smile. "How ya' doin'? The name's Flynn Rider."

The girl's only responds was to blink at me. I continued in much the same way as young women often react like this when I layer on the charm. I suppose I'm just overwhelming like that.

"How's it goin'?"

A scowl crossed the face of the girl and she brought that strange looking weapon, (a frying pan of all things, a frying pan) close to my face as if, (of all things,) she was threating me with it.

"Alright blondie..." I said, realizing the girl was not going to be flirted with.

"Rapunzel," the girl snapped.

"Gesundheit," I said rather politely. "Here's the deal. I was in a situation, gallivanting through the forest, when I came across your tower..." that's when it struck me. The reason why I was gallivanting through the forest. I grew ridged in my seat and desperately twisted in the chair, craning my neck in search of it. "Where is my satchel?" I demanded.

"I've hidden it," the girl said smugly as she crossed her arms. "In a place you'll never find it."

My heart quickly calmed as I realized she wasn't working with my bitter cohorts. The most sinister thing about this situation was the fact that the girl seemed a tiny bit unhinged. Not to mention a complete armature. She kept glancing at where she had hit it.

"It's in that pot, isn't it?" I asked flatly, gesturing at the pot.

The girl looked alarmed and her grip on the frying pan shifted. It was only a moment before it smacked against my head before I realized what was going to happen.