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What Once Was Mine

Before she was known as Mother Gothel, she was known as Clara. Clara was the daughter of a farmer in a small village and her mother had died young. With her mother's death, Clara did the cooking, cleaning and other chores for her father. Her father not wanting to lose his help, scared away any and all possible suitors. And that's all Clara was to him, help.

But there was one bright thing in Clara's small world—a flower. She had found it while exploring one day on a cliff near the farm. Not that there was much land to farm to begin with. It had attracted her attention because it glowed and was unlike any other flower she had seen. She found that if she brought her hand close enough, the tiny little cuts, scars, and scrapes on it would heal as well. Clara told nobody about the flower. If her father found out he would sell it for all the money he could, only to gamble and drink it away. Instead she used every moment she could get away to be with it.

Then he had come along. Her stranger, her prince, her hero. She had been on her way to visit her flower only to see that somebody else had discovered it as well. A somebody that was currently bent over her flower studying it closely.

"Get away from it!" she yelled at the stranger. At her words the stranger immediately straightened his back and stood up. Clara let out a gasp. The fine shirt, pants, boots, regal cape and sword clearly spoke of wealth and nobility.

"I was passing through when it caught my attention. Is it yours?" the stranger asked.

Infuriated at his question, Clara forgot that he was a noble and she was a farmer's daughter. Taking a step toward him, she said angirly, "It belongs to nobody and is something that should be protected."

Surprised by her outburst he replied, "Protected? Something like this should be shared with the world. Do you know it heals as well as glows? Not very much though. Perhaps if the right words were said..."

"And that's precisely why it should be protected. So nobody misuses it."

The stranger gazed steadily at Clara. Clara met his stare with her own, never wavering. Finally he said, "I'll make you a deal. Tell me your name and your flower will remain safe."

"Why should I tell you mine when you haven't told me yours?" she countered.

"Good point. I'll go first then. My name is Alfred. Yours?"

"Clara."

Even knowing his name, Clara didn't use it much. She always thought as him as her stranger. At the time Clara didn't know he was a prince. She suspected, but never asked, and he never told. What she did know was that she had never been closer to a person. When they could both get away them would meet together at the flower. There they would sit and daydream.

"See that," he said one day, pointing in the distance.

"What, that little speck of land."

"It's not little, it's huge. And one day it'll be a huge kingdom as well."

Clara laughed at him. "You have to get people there first."

"I'll build a bridge. A long and beautiful one."

"A long and beautiful one, huh?"

"Yes. And I shall name it after you, Clara's beautiful bridge."

At this she laughed again.

They also spent their time together exploring. One day the found a quiet little valley hide behind some vines. It soon became they second getaway besides the flower. Here too her stranger talked about plans to build a little tower with a secret door. That way they could get away from the rest of the world and nobody would ever be able to find them.

And so their time together passed. With each day, Clara became more and more certain that this mysterious stranger of hers would whisk her away from her father and they would live their happily other after. She became even more certain after one particular day.

They had been sitting on the ground with their feet in the cool water in their second secret place. Clara's stranger had been unusually quiet so she asked, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

Not even giving so much as a smile he answered, "My father. He's pressuring me to find a bride. Says it's time to secure an heir."

"The problem?" said Clara ever hopeful.

Not meeting her steady gaze, he replied solemnly, "She must be a princess."

Clara's face fell. She knew it. He was a prince. She was a farmer's daughter. A drunk and broke farmer's daughter. "Oh," she said quietly.

Her stranger suddenly looked up at her. "I don't care what my father says. He's always controlling my life and I should at least get to decide who I'll be married to for the rest of my life."

Hope renewed, Clara asked, "You mean it?"

Clasping her hand into his he said, "Yes. In one week wait for me at the flower. There are some matters that I must attend to first. But I'll come for you."

A week Clara was at the flower in her best dress. She had a small bag beside her with the few meager belongings she had and was ready to start a new life. She had even gone as far as telling her father she was leaving him forever to go marry her prince. Except he never came. The sun had set and risen before Clara had finally decided to go home.

"Where's your prince?" her father laughed at her as she walked in the door. "Decided you were to plain for him, did he now?" Humilated, Clara said nothing and tended the fire while her father continued to laugh at her.

However, Clara didn't give up hope that one day her prince would come for her. Each day she visited the flower and waited. About a week after they were suppose to meet, Clara saw that there was another stranger at her flower.

He was dressed like a messenger. Perhaps he sent me a message, she thought. That his matters had taken longer than he thought and he'll be along soon. That'll show my father.

The stranger did indeed have a message from her prince. Just not the one she had hoped. "Are you Clara?" Seeing her head nod, he continued. "Prince Alfred sends his regret for leading you on so. He has instead wed a nearby princess. Hopefully this will be more than enough compensation for your time," said the messenger with a hint of disdain as he dropped a hefty pouch into her hand. By the weight she could tell it was gold. Gold that he thought was obviously too much for a farmer's daughter. He took one final look at Clara and left her there, muttering under his breath, "she's not even that pretty..."

Clara collapsed to the ground and sobbed throwing the pouch of gold aside. She didn't care about the gold. She cared about her prince. Crying she sung:

"Flower, gleam and glow
Let your power shine
Make the clock reverse
Bring back what once was mine

Heal what has been hurt
Change the Fates' design
Save what has been lost
Bring back what once was mine
What once was mine."

The entire time she sung she had been crying into her lap until a bright light caused her to look up. Looking up she saw it was coming from the flower. What had he said? That the right words would unlease it's full power? They had spent many days trying a variety of words and phrases with no luck. And now that she had them, she didn't care. She wanted what once was hers. In resentment she left the pouch of gold there, vowing she would never spend it, but would instead try to move on with her life.

She had been in the market when the gossip reached her. That the prince had finally married his princess from a neighboring kingdom. How her horrible stepmother, jealous of her beauty, had forced her to be a maid in her own home. Not satisfied, she had hired a huntsman to kill her, only for him to be overcome with guilt and sorrow, he let her flee into the woods to a group of dwarves. Even then her stepmother had not stop until the poor princess was dead after biting a poisoned apple. But then the prince had found her and awakened her with a kiss. It was said the princess was the fairest in the land, and was just as kind as she was beautiful.

Disgusted, Clara had left the market and returned home only to find that her father had heard the news as well. "Guess we found out what happened to your prince, eh? Found himself a pretty little princess, much better than some old farmer's daughter."

From that moment on, Clara decided to stop being the poor farmer's daughter. Instead she became Gothel, a strong, confident, young woman. She used the gold from the prince to build a tower in their secret place. From high above she could watch as he expanded his kingdom onto the island in the distance. Now that she knew the words, she also experimented with her flower. She found it could cure poisoning, stabbing, reattach limbs, and something else. Age. As the years passed and the people in the nearby village aged, Gothel gradually noticed she didn't. It was why she would spend many nights smiling to herself. Her prince and his young beautiful princess were slowly aging, ceasing to be beautiful. All the while Gothel remained ageless and timeless in her tower.

And so the centuries passed. The small kingdom grew into a huge one while kings and queens came and went. Eventually people forgot about the farmer's daughter and the mysterious tower she had built. Which is what Gothel wanted.

Then the current queen became sick while pregnant with the heir. Desperate, the king remembered a story passed down in his family. A story about a magical, healing, flower. He sent his soldiers to the cliff where it was said to be and they returned to the palace triumph. Gothel, however wasn't. After spending centuries protecting her flower, some king had come along and taken it. He was as impudent as his ancestor.

Gothel normally avoided the kingdom, but she was curious about what happened to her flower. That was how she heard that the queen had been cured, and a princess had been born. A princess with long, golden, hair to parents with brown hair. People said it had to be due to the flower's magic. Wanting to see if it was true, Gothel sneaked into the room where the princess slept to see if the flower's magic had indeed been passed on. She had barely sung the song when the princess's hair began to glow. Excited, Gothel brought out a pair of scissors to clip off her own lock, only to discover that once cut, the hair lost it's power and turned brown. Left with no choice, Gothel took the princess away with her to the tower.

She named the princess, Rapunzel, her little flower. At first Rapunzel had merely been the means to an end for Gothel. Her ticket to staying forever young. As the years passed, Gothel became fond of her flower. She was the child that could of, no, should of, been her and her prince's. To keep her flower safe she told her the outside world was a scary place that only wanted her hair. She brought her books, paints, and more to keep her flower occupied and happy in the tower. When her flower's hair was long enough, she climbed up it instead of using the secret door and stairs. That way Rapunzel would forget about the other entrance and would have no way out.

The one thing that Gothel hadn't counted on was Rapunzel's obsession with those darn lights. The lights the king and queen released each year on the missing princess's birthday in hopes she would return someday. And of course Gothel had told Rapunzel her real birthday, causing her to think the lights were meant for her.

But other than that her flower was content with her life. Gothel was content as well. It wasn't until she had been living with her flower for a few years did she finally realize how lonely she had been for all those centuries in her tower alone. She had plans that she and Rapunzel would live forever together.

Then a stranger entered her life only to cause havoc once more. This one was named Flynn Rider, a thief instead of a prince or messenger. While she had been out to get paints to keep her flower happy and distract her from those darn lights, he had come along and discovered her. But then Gothel made it seem as if he betrayed her. It was a matter of time really. All guys would leave in the end. When her flower had wept in her arms, Gothel thought that perhaps the whole incident had been for the better. Now her flower's curiosity about the outside world had been more than satisfied by learning how truly horrible the world really was.

Her mind was changed when her flower figured out the truth. That she was the missing princess and Gothel had kidnapped her. Left with no choice she bound and gagged Rapunzel to take her far away. But... the thief had a notorious reputation for getting out of sticky situations, and what if he escaped this one too? What if he came back? Giving him a day or so, Gothel decided to wait once more for a stranger. This time he came.

Gothel stabbed him to ensure word about Rapunzel wouldn't spread. She hadn't expected her to volunteer to save him in exchange for cooperating with Gothel. Part of Gothel wanted him dead, but the other part had been wondering about how to deal with Rapunzel. Now that she knew the truth Gothel would always have to her bound and gagged and perform the sung herself like she had when Rapunzel was younger. But her flower cooperating, never running away, and spending forever by Gothel's side was an offer that she couldn't pass up.

She hadn't expect the thief to be stupid enough to cut Rapunzel's hair before he was healed. She watched in horror as the blond hair turned brown and lost it's power. No, she thought. It's mine, all mine, and now it's gone. As she turned into the ash that her body should have been centuries ago, her final thoughts were, how can it be gone, it was mine, all mine.

**Author's Note**

Originally I didn't plan for the story to be this long (almost 3,000 words). It was to be a simple one shot that featured Gothel's untold story. I love Tangled, especially since it expanded and explained the story better than the original. It gives legitimate and believable reasons for the baby snatching, being locked in a tower, and never cutting the hair. It even keeps the tears healing aspect that is in the original story. But every time I hear Gothel's Mother Knows Best Reprise and the lines:

"Don't let him deceive you!
Give it to him, watch, you'll see!
Trust me, my dear
That's how fast he'll leave you
I won't say I told you so."

I couldn't help but think, she sounds so jaded. She sounds like she was dumped and was still bitter about it. I would wonder what the story was behind it and this is the result. Originally I didn't plan on tying in Snow White, but it just happened while writing. Both stories are well known for their German versions, so it is possible that they could have overlapped.

I edited this the best I could and if I missed anything let me know. I also tried keeping Gothel in character as much as I could. Hopefully the transformation from Clara to Gothel makes sense. Reviews would be appreciated to let me know if I achieved this. I'm also interested if anybody else picked up on the jaded part like I did or if it was just me.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. If possible, please review!