14 May 2024

Reworking the last bit of the previous post, and then continuing from there with Rapunzel’s perspective. Yes, the Arthurian legends are a novel series in this universe; no, I haven’t nailed down which form of “cannon” is the “cannon” of the fictional series. Nor am I likely to stress too much about it.

…”You’re coming with us, aren’t you? I mean, we finally found you.”

Rapunzel squeaked and started to shake her head, but Isaac either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “It’ll be great. Mom and Maleficent will have someone new to fuss over, and you’ll get to finally be with your family. You can learn to be a proper princess, and since you're the oldest, you can take over the kingdom while I discover new things and build foreign connections. Doesn’t that sound grand?”

It was only then Isaac noticed the panic on Rapunzel’s face. She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head. “N-no, it does not. Th-thank you.” Even as Isaac opened his mouth to protest, she turned her back on him. “I think you should go, now.” She snapped her fingers, and suddenly there was no floor under Isaac’s feet. He fell onto a long, winding ramp that never seemed to end, Finally, it dumped him…

Rapunzel took a few moments to catch her breath. When she turned around, though, her face turned bright scarlet.

Phillip stood their, shuffling awkwardly, a strange expression on his face. “Erm. I, uh… Sorry about him. Isaac can be… He’s a bit of a dumbass sometimes.” He scratched his cheek, then asked, “Just checking, but, he’s okay, right?”

Rapunzel curled her shoulders in and nodded. “J-just… He’s just outside.”

With a nod, Phillip scratched the back of his neck and took another look around the room. “Oh, wow! Did you paint that? That’s Percival, right?

Instantly, Rapuzel’s expression brightened. “You read the King Arthur books?” When Phillip nodded, she pressed, “How far have you gotten?”

“I’m all caught up, even with the latest book [author]’s released. You?”

“The old lady just appeared in court and told Percival off for being too polite.” Rapunzel grimaced. “I… don’t actually know how far behind I am. Is that the latest one?”

“They just released the next one after that a month or so ago; it ends at a bit of a cliffhanger, but I love it. The dynamic between Perce, Gawain, and Bors is amazing.”

For a moment, Rapunzel let herself get excited, but then a stray thought occurred to her. If the latest one only came out a month ago, she’d likely never get a chance to see who [author] resolved the latest cliffhanger. She’d barely have time to read the newest book, honestly. Tears started flowing down her cheeks, which sent Phillip into a panic.

“He,:” Rapunzel finally asked. “He d-does know I’m go, going to die soon, right? The p-prince, I mean.”

It took quite a while for Phillip to respond. “I think, for us, we’re still processing the fact that you’re real, not just a story told to keep us in line and away from magic. What that means, for us or for you… I don’t think that’s hit yet. At least for me. And Isaac… well, he’s a bit tunnel-visioned at the best of times. Even if he knows, I don’t think it’s hit him yet.”

23 April 2024

This is a connector scene between Isaac’s deal and their arrival in the forest. This assumes I’ll be changing Rapunzel’s first chapter to focus on some other part of her daily life; painting while Gothel is around when she knows Gothel’s likely reaction seems dumb. I hope to use the new chapter to foreshadow something, or build up something for Rapunzel to lose, but I don’t have that pinned down right now.

Once Rapunzel was sure Mother was truly gone, she darted to her paint studio. It had no door; the wall at the end of the hallway opened up for her as she approached, and closed behind her after she entered. It wasn’t always this way; when Rapunzel had first started painting, Mother had helped her get set up in the main living area, and would often watch her paint. That only lasted until Rapunzel made the mistake of trying to paint Queen Maleficent of Venwald. That had been a particularly bad episode Mother had even shifted into various animal forms, and she had lashed out at Rapunzel when the girl had gotten close to try and calm her down.

That painting hung prominently on the back wall of the studio, alongside dozens of others. Quite a few depicted Mother’s various different faces, but the most common subject had to be Queen Hannah. Rapunzel’s current project was actually based on a portrait of Hannah from over a decade prior, holding a baby. Probably Prince Isaac, but it was hard to tell; it could have been Rapunzel herself, before Mother had whisked her away.

Rapunzel let a finger brush the painting’s face, before she shook her head and got to work. She wanted to see how much she could get done in the next three days.

11 January 2024

Wow, this was short.

Then the tower rocked her chair, and Rapunzel jumped up. It took her a second to process what was happening, but as soon as she had, she squeaked and threw the sheet back over the painting.

Not a moment later, Mother’s voice called through the door. “Rapunzel, [honey], are you in here?” The door opened, and a rather mousy-looking women in a white dress with a blue apron came in. Rapunzel was surprised; that was the look Mother wore when she planned to head outside.

9 June 2023

Short little fluff piece; the kind of day-to-day shots that were half the reason I started writing Elsenaia to begin with. I can’t profess a great wealth of experience in matters of romance, but the ones that stuck with me the most in things I’ve read and watched weren’t the ones about passion or grand gestures of love. Those could show up at times, sure, but it was the quiet moments, the small shows of support, the ability to simply be with each other that make for the most poignant romances to me. I might have to write an article on that at some point.

Of course, a healthy relationship makes for poor drama, which means to have a story, either the relationship needs flaws, or there needs to be a major outside force that is the actual focus of the story. That’s probably why almost none of my favorite romances are found in the romance genre.

On this particular Saturday morning, it was Nick’s turn to fix lunch. It was a gorgeous day outside, and he found himself humming cheerily as he cooked bacon and cut tomatoes for some BLTs.

Once he had everything ready, he headed downstairs to get Elsenaia. It was amazing how much more vibrant the house felt with just one more person. He found her with her hair tied back, pointy ears showing, and dressed in a ratty shirt and old jeans, both covered in fresh paint of all colors. It was probably to most casual he’d ever seen her, and somehow, it made her seem even more radiant.

She stood before a large canvas, palette in one hand and brush in the other. Other paintings cluttered the area; several bore a stark resemblance to Jackson Pollock’s art style, but there were a few landscapes and other things mixed in.