youthfulncssâ:
The pause that lingered in the air was tense and haunting. But Gertrude laughed, lightly, then all at once. âYou did spend years with me, thatâs true,â she conceded, âbut you knew a very specific part of me. Destructive and rash. I donât deny it,â she says, pointedly. âSure, I raised you. But isnât that a specific relationship too? Mothers and daughters. Of course, you donât see me as a mother. I know that. But⌠still. Pretend the dynamic is somewhat similar.â This is what you get for being a witch, though. Hatred and all. Well deserved, of course. But just as well.
âRight. Of course. So I donât harm them, I believe, was the key aspect. So tell me this, Rapunzel, how is me offering closure a bad thing? Cassandra can know who her mother is, and then maybe youâll be rid of me? Isnât that what you want? For me to not have ground to hold over you?â That may be a good point. Gertrude giving up some leverage. Sheâd lose Cass, but sheâd have Eugene⌠or whatever his name was⌠to torment Rapunzel with. She didnât approve of him anyways. And Rapunzel⌠a dear who could have been more if there wasnât much interference. Gertrude wishes, sometimes, that she didnât have such a disdain for Rapunzel. But that was the issue. It was Rapunzel exactly. She may have adored Cassandra if she hadnât been so afraid. If she hadnât been worried about the act of giving her up. But she did give her up. And gave up on her.
âSure. You are enough. And you always have been. And this is me, right now, acknowledging it. Itâs not what you want to hear, perhaps. Me⌠of all people⌠validating something Iâve spent your life tearing down. But⌠there you are. Youâre grown up now, and nothing I say with break you down. So⌠youâve always been enough. Intelligent. Witty. And beautiful, though I hate to admit it. So⌠thatâs the truth Iâve always known. And whatever will I do knowing that 20-something years later Iâve broken my own lie?â
âItâs a bad thing because I donât trust you. Fine, you tell her. You tell her and then what? You want her to move on with her life knowing that her mother is living in the same city as her? A woman who never cared about her? Who chose another child in her place? How is that supposed to make her feel? I will not let you put her through that.â Rapunzel shook her head. âBe rid of you? What does that even mean? As much as you would like for me to think so, this isnât about me. Cassandra isnât a game. Her importance is not rooted in who she is to me or what pull you have over me. I donât care about what you have on me, youâre crazy, youâll always find something to have over me. I care about Cass.â
Rapunzelâs brow knitted as Gothel began to praise her, things sheâd wanted to hear her entire life spilling from the very lips she should have heard them from in the first place. It made her feel like a child again, constantly seeking her motherâs approval. She didnât know how to respond for a long moment, standing there with her lips slightly parted as if the right words would come out without effort. âI... donât need to hear that from you.â But she did, and she hated the fact that it felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest as the woman who raised her praised her so.Â









