Disclaimer: Tangled belongs to Disney. No profit is being made with this.

Author's Note: This is something a bit different. It is not a "novel" in the sense of having a plot; it is a series of slice-of-life chapters with a general thread running through them. It is an AU scenario inspired by the original fairy tale and some elements of the movie. In the fairy tale, Rapunzel was not born a princess, and such is going to be her background for this story (though I set up a situation in which her family willingly gives her up to Gothel rather than under duress)... but other than that, she's still Tangled Rapunzel. For this story, Flynn's background does follow the movie; he is still Tangled Flynn, not a prince. They must create their own lives and find their own place in the world, rather than having a place carved out and waiting for them to fill. As you might guess, their place is not going to be in the kingdom of Corona in this AU.

Rating: At the time of posting, the story is rated T. I do not expect this to last. At some point, I anticipate changing the rating to M because there will be intimacy between the two of them. There will be no other sort of M-rated content, but if this is not something you want to read, consider this your heads up.

Carpe Diem

Chapter One: Miracle

In the quaint town on the island kingdom of Corona, most of the citizens were preparing for a celebration. It was not only the anniversary of the state's founding, but by sheer good fortune, it also happened to be the birthday of their future ruler—a ruler whose birth had, for a long time, been a matter of serious question, and, by extension, so had the future of the kingdom itself. The king and queen were not young, and it was long known that they had attempted to have a child but had failed to do so over and over. Finally, however, as she approached her fortieth year, Her Majesty was successfully delivered of a healthy baby—an heir. The line of succession was confirmed; the kingdom's political stability remained.

The townspeople had long launched illuminated, floating lanterns in observation of the national holiday, led by their beloved king and queen's release of the first lantern. Tonight, however, 3-year-old Prince Bastion was going to release that first light. The tawny-haired, round-eyed, husky little boy was thought adorable by the whole kingdom, and now that he was definitely old enough to understand the significance of the event, his parents had allowed him to lead it off.

However, not every citizen of Corona was in a celebratory mood. While the festivities were underway in town, in a ramshackle wood frame house on the sparsely populated coastline of the mainland, an anxious man watched over his very pregnant, and dying, sister.

If I ever find that rascal that did this to her, I will kill him with my own bare hands, the increasingly distraught fisherman thought, clenching his fists as his sister's eyes fluttered in her sleep and her breathing hitched. He glanced down at her swollen belly. She was at full term and had been in labor for two days now, but there was no indication that delivery was imminent—and they could not afford a midwife. This baby—the baby with which that no-account Danish captain had impregnated her before abandoning her—was going to kill her.

Throughout the pregnancy, the brother and sister had been deeply concerned about how they could possibly raise the baby on their income, or what its prospects might be as a fatherless, illegitimate child. But now that his sister—the last surviving relative he had—was on her deathbed from the pregnancy, the young fisherman found that those previous concerns were nothing, utterly unimportant compared to what they were now facing. He would gladly suffer any impoverishment in place of what he knew was coming.

A groan escaped her unconscious form. Sweat had poured down her face, soaking the lumpy pillow, and the odor of unwashed bodies and sickness filled her room. The fisherman's chest constricted. She was going to die very soon, unless...

Unless what? he thought grimly. He knew nothing about medicine or birth. Even if they could find a physician or midwife who would attend to her on credit, the fact remained that practically everyone was at that lantern ceremony tonight for the rich little prince. The thought angered him so much that he pushed it out of his mind, trying to find something—anything—he could grasp at.

When all conventional options have been exhausted, desperate people often look for miracles. Old tales that, in better times, would have been dismissed with prejudice suddenly become possibilities. So it was with the young fisherman. A legend that their grandmother had told them years ago was now tugging at the edges of his mind. There was a story that, over a thousand years ago when the island of Corona was just a wild territory, so unimportant and worthless in natural resources that the Franks and Danes and others weren't even interested in battling over it, the first group of settlers were drawn to the edge of the mainland by a mysterious light. The story went that as they approached that light, the weariness and injuries that they had incurred in their trek seemed to vanish. The source of the light was a magic flower that seemed to have healing powers, and by the light of this flower, the story claimed, the first settlers glimpsed the island of Corona in the distance and knew that it would be their home.

It was a ridiculous legend, the fisherman thought. An old wives' tale. And yet... they lived on the shore. If such a thing existed, they would not be too far from it.

Still, his sister was dying. She likely did not have much time left. Would it not be better for him to be with her at the end, rather than hunt for something that his rational side told him probably was not real and return empty-handed only to find that she had died alone when he was gone?

The young man's sister stirred. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment and clearly focused on him. A ragged cry escaped her throat that was just clear enough that he had no doubt it was his name.

"Are you awake?" he gasped, his heart pounding in his chest.

She grunted an affirmative.

The young man was convinced. She had awakened and called out to him just as the conflict crossed his mind, just as he had almost decided to forgo the hopeless search and stay with her as she died. This brief reprieve was a sign, he decided—a sign to look for the healing flower. And if that was the case, then it did exist.

"I'm going to look for something to help you," he said with sudden resolve. "Stay with me. Please don't die. Please."

She focused on his face desperately, but understanding filled her features. She took a breath and nodded quickly. That was enough. He darted across the rustic room and grabbed his cloak off a hook on the wall, then rushed through the door.

About an hour later, as he clambered along the rocks on the wild, unsettled cliffs, he found himself thinking that the legend actually wasn't impossible at all. These cliffs were so impassable, so dangerous, that it was absurd to imagine human feet treading them. The constant spray from the sea, and the growth of mold, had turned even seemingly safe spots into treacherously slippery traps. It was truly no wonder that this spot had never been settled. He had already incurred a jagged scratch on his forearm and a set of nasty bruises from a fall. If such a flower did exist, it would be very well protected here.

A scuffling sound caught his ears—but he couldn't be sure, with the roar of the waves. Surely no one was around here. Still, the possibility of an animal, a predator, gave him pause, and he turned in the general direction of the scuffle, gripping the handle of the knife that was sheathed at his waist.

And then he saw it. A gleam of light, fairly soft and dim, was coming from a cliffside not too far above him. It was either a traveler's lantern or...

He scampered up the rocky slope, hardly mindful of where he stepped, but somehow miraculously managing to reach the ledge without falling and tumbling down the rocks. When he heaved his body onto the earth, he looked up toward the source of the light and gaped in astonishment.

There, before his very eyes, was the fabled flower. It was so exposed, and for a moment he wondered how it was that no one in a thousand years had apparently managed to see it... even if the cliff itself was hard to reach, mariners should have been able to see it. He did not notice the woven basket made of shrubbery parts that lay on its side several feet away, the light of the flower was so striking... and as he lifted the plant out of its soil and began to carry it back home, neither did he hear the footsteps that followed behind him.

"Shhh," he said as he poured the bowlful of elixir into his sister's mouth. She had drifted off again while he was gone, but she would be fine now... or if she wouldn't, if this wouldn't save her, then nothing could now, he reasoned. He had done absolutely everything he could possibly do.

However, he needn't have worried. Her eyes blinked open soon after she had imbibed the potion, and the color that had fled her cheeks filled her face with a glow of health once more. She reached up and gave him a grateful, wordless hug. He didn't need words.

In about an hour and a half, she had been safely delivered of a baby girl. The child had a head of golden blonde hair, which he thought was a bit peculiar... both he and his sister had brown hair, as had their parents, just like most of the long-time residents of the area. That accursed captain had also had dark hair... but he supposed that either the flower itself had caused this effect, or someone in that scoundrel's family had been blond. It didn't matter, he supposed. He didn't much care to think about the rake, anyway. Now that he did not fear for his sister's life, the problem that had dogged their thoughts for nine months was once more at the forefront. How on earth were they going to care for this baby? And what would become of her once she was grown?

The last of the lanterns were fading away over the sea, and as he glanced out the window, he thought once more about the person for whom they were meant. The three-year-old prince had such bright prospects. That child would never want for anything. He would be raised to be a good ruler, since the current king was such a good one himself, and even if Prince Bastion turned out as ugly as a mangy dog, he would still have no shortage of ladies interested in marrying him. Money and power counted.

The young fisherman glanced at his newborn niece now suckling at her mother's breast. This was an innocent child too, but her prospects looked so different compared to those of that other child in the grand castle on the island. The dim light of the fading lanterns seemed appropriate, he thought grimly. They would certainly do the best they could for her, and try to ensure that she did not have the fate of her mother, but there was only so much...

He sighed in resignation. At least he still had this little girl and her mother. Something would turn up. The flower had, after all. His sister and her baby were meant to survive. That had to be for a reason.

A knock on the hut's flimsy door sounded. He snapped his head up in shock. Why would anyone be looking for them tonight? Pretty much everyone was at that festival.

He glanced at his sister questioningly, but she only gave a shrug. She did not know who it could be either. Taking a deep breath, he turned away from the bed and headed toward the door.

When he opened it, he found himself face-to-face with a red-garbed, black-caped woman he had never seen before in his life.

End Note: This is not a Rapunzel/Bastion AU. This is also not a Rapunzel/Flynn/Bastion love triangle setup. Bastion's character is a nod to the early storyboarding, a nod to the original fairy tale (since he is a prince here), and a way to allow the events of the movie to happen more or less unchanged even though Rapunzel's background is so different. Flynn will make his appearance in the next chapter.