PENNY DREADFUL || Rapunzel

It’s dusk over London, and the dying rays of sunlight wilt as they pass through the sprawling cityscape. Rapunzel is perched on a stool by the open window of Bellflower Brothel, watching tensely as the world moves below him. Carriages crawl like ants along distant roads, people floating about like dust on the wind.

“Mother...” Rapunzel opens his mouth to speak, eyes flitting over the group of prostitutes hard at work tidying his surroundings, and a small grumble of complaint passes through his lips. “Why have them clean my private quarters?”

“It can’t be dirty.” Mother Gothel smiles mildly in return, her eyes trained on Anna, lest the prostitute acts unbecomingly.

As the splendour of the sun sinks, the lamplights come alive with new radiance. Anna, behind Rapunzel, comes alive with new radiance. Mother Gothel pointed out the crow’s feet by the corners of her eyes this afternoon. Thus, she had Anna brush Rapunzel's hair tonight. Rapunzel can’t find it in him to enjoy it - being so close to a fallen woman of such deplorable character. He bears it, nonetheless, for his mother.

“I clean it regularly.” Rapunzel refutes, leaving his next words unspoken – even if it is dirty, he fears having the whores clean it is like wiping a used teacup with sewer water. “You’ve never allowed them in my room before. Why now?”

Rapunzel truly believes his mother knows best. Rapunzel never blames Mother Gothel for owning Bellflower Brothel, since she's surely forced by circumstances. After all, Mother Gothel instils into him the virtues of chastity and remaining pure, and that's why she won't let him interact with the prostitutes. Or the people outside. No matter how curious or lonely Rapunzel gets. Immoral, she says. As a male, she won't allow him to be corrupted like them, she says. Like Anna.

With each pass of the comb through Rapunzel’s hair, Anna’s face morphs imperceptibly for the better. Her skin evens out, and her wrinkles become taught like a pure maiden’s. Noticing this, Mother Gothel sets down her cup, claps, and then waves the prostitutes away.

“Off with you lot, and put on your cosmetics. I’ve men for you all tonight.” Mother Gothel shoos them out of the room. “Rapunzel, dear. Do you know what today is? Can’t you fathom what might warrant such an occasion?”

As Anna and the others depart, Rapunzel relaxes. His tightly wound muscles loosen slightly and he takes a deep breath through his nose, his eyebrows furrowing. The scent of flowers and herbs wafts from the extensive garden outside. It’s pleasant, but reminds him of the pouches carried by the disease-ridden to hide their decaying stench.

“My birthday.” He says simply.

“Indeed.” Mother Gothel nods, standing up to walk over to Rapunzel, placing her hands on his shoulders and tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear as she begins his usual braids. “You’re of age now, my son. We’re expecting visitors. Or rather, you are.”

Rapunzel starts, and suddenly becomes more invested in the cleanliness of his quarters. “Marriage? No... Mother, why have them come here? This place...” His lip curls derisively, expressing his distinct disdain for their family’s occupation.

Rapunzel always looks forward to his marriage, because it's what his mother promises him for his abstinence and good conduct. That one day, he and she will be living good, moral and respectable lives. He will marry a respectable lady, who will be nothing like the powder-caked whores of his current company. She will be a pure virgin adept at domestic affairs, who will love and treat his word as absolute, bearing his children and devoting her life to their family.

“Not marriage. Not yet, my dear son.” Mother Gothel placates him with a pat, before she frowns and says. “You’re so special, my son. Mother... Mother’s business isn’t going well these days. Everything I have is yours, and I do this evil for your future. You understand my difficulties, right? You’ll do this for me, right, Rapunzel?”

“You mean?” Rapunzel’s stomach sinks through every floor of the repurposed clocktower, and he stiffens yet again, unable to even meet her eyes.

“It’ll be enough to keep us afloat. More than afloat, even. Your magic is reason enough to raise the price manyfold, and with much luck, we can start planning for your married life soon. I’m so sorry, my son...” With each word of Mother Gothel’s, Rapunzel’s face pales a shade, and his fingers dig into the sides of the stool. "Tonight, you will truly become a man."

After her attempt at softening the blow, he remains silent, and Mother Gothel considers it a reluctant acquiescence. She's gladdened by his obedience. After all, she's waited so long. Now, Rapunzel's a virgin in his prime, his most valuable, and she won't have it ruined by his tantrum. She stands to leave, and if only Rapunzel were to turn around at that moment, he would see the careless smile on her face as she closes the door behind her.

“Fuck.” Rapunzel mutters, stupefied, before the reality of the matter at hand begins to truly set in. “Fuck fuck fuck. Shit, no, this can’t be happening...”