Hello everyone! So I wrote this for Dee (startswithhope on Tumblr) because she was sick and fluff is always a good source of medicine. I've also wanted a Rapunzel!Captain Swan fic for the longest time and this gave me the excuse to write it. :)

I hope you enjoy! This is one of the fluffiest pieces I've written in a long time.

Let me know what you think!

He comes at sunset, braving the dangerous forest, and she waits for him at her window, wondering what stories he'll have today. When she spots him in the horizon, she runs about the room, straightening the blankets and pillows on her bed and making sure the fire is nice and cozy. She inspects herself in the looking glass, pinching her cheeks and biting lightly on her lips for color, before hearing him call up to her, asking to let down her hair. Sticking her head out the window, she sees him standing below, clad in black leather, his satchel hanging on his side. He waves to her, asking if she's going to let him up.

"And what do I receive in return, Killian?" she teases.

"A satchel filled with delicious pastries from the nearby bakery," he lightly replies, shaking the mentioned object at her. "Please, Princess Emma? I know how you love your cakes."

She pretends to consider his offer before scooping up her long, golden locks and throwing them over the window's ledge. He waits for her to wrap the hair around the iron hook, tugging carefully on it, and then proceeds to climb up the locks like a rope. Her prince in disguise is much quicker than the Dark One and is up within minutes, breathing in deeply from the high climb. Her impatience gets the best of her and without giving him time to catch his breath, she asks where his travels have led him this time.

"Did you go back to the land with the trolls?" she excitedly asks, helping him down from the ledge. "Did you tell them how much I loved how they helped you fight off those wicked brothers? Or did you see the Snow Queen? Is she as wicked as she is in my stories?" He laughs in response and helps unwind her hair from the hook on the window. She accepts the large bundle and looks up at him expectantly.

"I did not travel to Arendelle," he informs her, walking over to the small table and pulling off his satchel. "We normally don't return to the lands we've traveled unless we discover we've missed something valuable." She shyly smiles at his offering of small cakes and sits down across from him, choosing the dark chocolate.

"You were gone much longer than expected," she observes around large bites of cake. "I assumed it was to another land."

"Not another land," he sighs, picking lightly at his own piece. "Another realm." Her eyes widen. Another realm? Like a different world from their own? Emma imagines what it must be like, visiting entirely new worlds, all the different sorts of people they must meet, but her mind stops short, unaccustomed to what the world looks like outside her tower.

"Were you scared?"

He shakes his head and shoves a piece of cake in his mouth. "No," he mumbles, swallowing. "Just terribly disappointed." She frowns at his statement and peers down at her slice of cake. Frustration coils in her stomach for how wasteful Killian's adventures were on him at times. If she had the opportunity to explore different lands, different worlds, then she would take on the challenge in a heartbeat. There would be no time to be disappointed because she would be too busy exploring and meeting new people, new creatures.

"It's such a waste," she huffs, her appetite now lost. The corners of his mouth twitch up and he asks if she is mad at him. "I'm not mad at you," she explains tartly, crossing her arms and refusing another piece of cake. "I'm mad at the entire situation."

"And what situation is that?"

"That you get to go on all these adventures—so many, in fact, that you have disappointing travels—and all I have is my window!" She stands up and paces the room, cursing under her breath when she trips over her hair. "Do you have any idea how dull it is living up in this tower, Killian? How lonely it gets?"

He gets up and pulls her toward him, gently squeezing her hands in comfort. Emma doesn't look at him—refuses to, in fact. If she does, her whole resolve will crumble and she'll start to cry. She couldn't let him see her cry, not about this. Not about how unfortunate her life has been since her parents made the deal with Rumpelskitskin to save their kingdom. Her eyes focus on their hands, instead; his tan and calloused from working in the sun and hers soft and pale like her mother's. She laces their fingers together and squeezes back.

"I don't want to argue," he tells her softly, pressing his lips to her forehead. She closes her eyes and listens, focusing only on the warmth of his breath on her skin. "I've missed you, and the trip was so disappointing because all I could think about was you. About how much you would have loved the people, and how you would have enjoyed the beautiful flowers that grew in the fields. Emma, I wanted you at my side so badly that any trip pales in comparison."

It feels like a frog is stuck in her throat. She tries to swallow it down, knowing she is expected to respond to his sweet confession, but with so little human interaction, her words always fell flat against his. Opening her eyes, she stands on her tiptoes and lightly presses her lips to his, breaking their hands apart and caressing his cheeks, and he kisses her back, adding urgency to the kiss. He must have come from the taverns, his kiss tasting faintly of rum and whiskey, and they don't stop until both are out of breath against the wall, the clock in the corner tolling the hour.

Emma is the first to break apart, her cheeks bright red from the intimacy, and steps away in attempts to collect herself. His lips are swollen and more pinkish than usual, and they smile at each other shyly, their argument already forgotten.

"I've missed you, too," she breathes, idly playing with her hair as she always does in moments where she is confessing something personal. "I waited by the window for weeks, wondering when you'd be back."

He takes her hands again, shaking away her hair. "I hate hearing that." She looks up, confused. From all the stories she's read, she assumed all men wished to hear about their loved ones pining over their absence. Was it wrong to tell him this? "I hate that the Dark One has you locked away like a special toy," Killian explains, his features growing dark. "You deserve more."

Emma bites her bottom lip and looks down, unsure what to say. He knows why she's here, they have talked about it many times during his visits, but it's still hard to be reminded of how limited their relationship is.

"It's part of the deal," she simply says because what else is there to say?

"I know," he sighs, "but it doesn't make it fair to you."

"It isn't," she agrees, "but my parents did what they felt was best for the kingdom. If they didn't, Regina would have cursed the entire land and who knows what would have happened." It is the story Rumplestiltskin has told numerous times throughout her years of imprisonment. Her parents loved her, yes, but they loved the kingdom more, needed to protect the kingdom over their family's happiness. As a child she didn't understand how her parents could give her up so easily, but as she got older, Emma's practical side agreed with the decision to give her up to the Dark One for the kingdom's protection. She would have done the same, she is sure. But there is still a small part that hurts, that still cries at night when the wind creaks through the tower's walls and all she wants are her parents' arms to protect her. No matter the practicality, their deal locked her in a tower with no one but the Dark One himself to take care of her.

That is, until Killian Jones stumbled upon her tower by accident. His ability to pulling the lost little girl out from behind her curtain of hair always astounded her, always leaving doubts in her head about the life she was living, but her practical side always won out. What else could she do?

Killian purses his lips and pulls her to the window. Her heart races in worry. Is it time for him to leave already? He just got here! She fights back, refusing to let him leave so soon. His smile is filled with understanding, whispering that everything is all right. He wants to show her something and the tension leaves her shoulders as he guides to her seat near the window.

"What am I looking at?" she questions as they stand there for a moment, unsure what it is he's trying to do. His arms wrap around her waist, head resting on her shoulder, and his soft lips press lightly at her throat.

"The horizon, love," Killian murmurs into her skin. The warm breath tickles and she giggles despite herself. He reprimands her to look ahead, and though it's hard to focus on anything when her mind buzzes underneath his touch, she does.

The treetops are turning brightly orange and yellow with autumn upon them, swaying gently in the breeze. The sky is painted in reds and oranges still, the sun still perched on the far horizon, and a few clouds hang so low she leans forward, curious if it's possible to touch one. The buzz of insects is slowly dying down, being replaced by the crickets' nightly tune, and the birds' chirping quiets for the night. Everything is as it always is: brightly colored and familiar. The same view she's seen for years.

"It's beautiful," she tells him, "Truly, it is. But it's nothing I haven't seen before."

"And are you tired of seeing it?"

Emma rolls her eyes, already knowing where he's taking this. She pushes away from him and heads toward the table, picking at the dark crumbs on the table. "I can't leave, Killian. You know this. Until my—"

"—Until your parents' debt to the Dark One is fulfilled," he recites, his shoulders slouching a tad in defeat. "Yes, I know, but I've missed you," he quietly reminds her, cupping her face in his large, calloused hands and kissing her softly on the lips. Emma closes her eyes, allowing herself to be lost in his touch once more, and stands on her tiptoes to prolong the kiss, his hands traveling to her hair, fingers curling around magical locks. The kiss makes her head buzz, her fingers wrap around the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

"And I you," she breathes when they break apart, licking her tingling lips. They stare at each other for another moment, absorbed in each other's presence.

"Come with me," Killian pleads, unable to let her go. "Explore these lands at my side instead of waiting for me to tell you." Emma steps back, her mind still reeling from their kiss, wishing more than anything to leave her tower and follow him, to explore the seas with him and his crew, but it's impossible. She can never leave this tower, not while her parents still owed Rumplestiltskin for saving the entire realm from the Evil Queen's curse.

"How much more must your parents owe before their debt is paid? They've already sacrificed their daughter; isn't that enough?"

"I don't know," she confesses, hands playing with her hair again. "I'm part of the payment, that's all I know."

Killian seems to understand, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side again. She smiles despite the longing clawing away at her stomach and rests her cheek on his shoulder.

"Perhaps one day," she supplies. The one thing she remembers from her parents is to never give up on hope. No matter how dire something seemed to be, hope always prevailed. "One day you will show me how to steer your ship and how to master a sword."

"Aye," he muses wistfully. "And we'll travel to any land you wish." Her eyes light up as she imagines the places they would visit; Killian has told her of many wonderful lands. The land with the talking rock trolls has been her favorite tale, so far, with the royal family gifted in ice magic. She would love to meet someone from that land and ask about their lives. Or perhaps she would more enjoy Wonderland and its crazy logic.

"And fight giants, dragons, and wizards?"

"I would hope not," Killian rebukes, "but I know how much you itch to be in a fight." She lightly punches him in the arm, but laughs, knowing it to be true. "We'll do whatever you want, go wherever you want. Just point the way, princess, and we'll go."

Emma nods and looks around her room in thought, biting lightly her bottom lip. She walks to her vanity and picks up the small glass unicorn she took from her nursery so many years ago. The blue glass is cool to the touch, all its edges smooth as her fingers wrap around it. Her mother used to tell her unicorns symbolize the power of choice. She had a choice in the matter, but the consequences could damn her entire kingdom if Rumplestiltskin chose to do so. She thinks back to the day her captor locked her away, threatening her life if she tried running from him again. He cursed her hair to grow to great lengths, telling her it's the only way out of the enchanted tower. Jealousy gnaws at her stomach. Her entire world fit into the confines of a room—so small compared to Killian's, so limited compared to anyone's life.

Killian is right.

None of this is fair.

"Killian," she turns her head, glancing over her shoulder at him. He looks up and his open expression sends butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "Do you mean it when you say you'd do anything for me?"

"Of course." And he does mean it. She knows that more than anything.

"Okay, then." The look of astonishment amuses her. She patiently waits near her vanity, hands clasped in front of her, a small smile painting her features until her words become clear to him. The moment they click, he rushes over and picks her up.

"You really mean it?" he asks, pulling her tightly to his chest. It's hard not to laugh at how excited he is about her decision. For a long time Emma feared his affections were only because she could not be at his side like other women could, experiencing the same adventures as him to other realms. But seeing how happy he is, how bright his laughter sounds alongside hers—well, her past doubts seem more foolish than ever.

They tangle in her hair, falling back in a large pile of blonde locks, her on top of him, breathless in their excitement. She gazes into his sea-blue eyes, imagining a fairy having taken the color straight from the sea and magicking his eyes the same shade of blue. Hands curl into his hair, along his stubbled cheeks, thumb tracing his bottom lip. He nips at her thumb, mischievously grinning at her mock sternness before leaning forward and pecking her on the lips, pushing her hands away. Emma deepens the kiss, toes curling between his legs, and forgets about everything that has gone wrong in her life. She forgets about her parents' deal with the Dark One, about being locked away in a tower for so many years, and embraces the moment in front of her.

"I love you," she breathes, caressing his cheek. "Truly."

"And I you," he says, eyes bright and filled with affection.

They stay tangled on the ground for another moment, soaking everything in. Emma's head spins at how drastically different her life has become—agreeing to leave her tower, telling Killian she loves him—and holds him closer, never wanting this moment to end.

"Do we leave now, love?" he asks, brushing his lips against her jaw. "My horse is but a mile's walk from here."

"What does a sea captain need with a horse?" she laughs, lifting herself up and sitting upright in his lap.

"To help runaway princesses, of course."

"I would hardly call myself a princess anymore. My kingdom hasn't seen me in over a decade."

"Ah," he says, untangling themselves from her hair and pulling her up on her feet. "But you'll be a pirate princess; the most fearsome princess the realm has ever seen!" She smiles and brings his hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles.

"Let's get out of here, then."

And with a little help from her hair, they do.