Flynn And Rapunzel Quotes

Rapunzel:I've been looking out of a window for eighteen years, dreaming about what I might feel like when those lights rise in the sky. What if it's not everything I dreamed it would be? Flynn Rider: It will be. Rapunzel: And what if it is? What do I do then? Flynn Rider: Well,that's the good part I guess. You get to go find a new dream.

Flynn was leaning against the side of the house, legs crossed, an ironic smile on his face. He must have been up for a while; he had obviously taken pains to wash his face and neck and arms (at least; that was just all Rapunzel could see) and straighten his hair so it was parted dashingly to one side. She wondered, for a moment, whose comb he had borrowed, or if he had his own stashed away somewhere like his knives. He was stupidly, ridiculously handsome. Even with the stupid, ridiculously fake smile on his face. Not at all the worst thing to wake up to.

Now directly above her, transiting the meridian, was the new crescent moon. No longer a chalky white, it was as silver as a piece of polished jewelry, somehow shining and sparkling despite the fact that it should have been nearly invisible that close to the sun, traveling through his bright day. "Oh, how pret---" Rapunzel started to say, but then she was distracted because her hair began to glow. Just like when she killed the chickens-- but more. Brilliantly, with the white light of the diamonds of her (Flynn's) crown, with the whiteness she imagined the foam of a midnight sea would look like. She picked up a hank of hair and let it hang from her hands; it was like holding molten silver chains or all the distant rivers seen from her tower, gathered up together by some unimaginable fairy-tale giant.

Moths, large and white and fluttering in a manner just a little too bat-like, came out of hiding to revel in this unexpected dismissal of day. So too did fireflies: Rapunzel squealed in delight when, like tiny candles, they twinkled in slow, unhurried loops around grass. "Is this your mother's magic?" she shrieked, clawing at Gina's arm. " ARE THOSE FAIRIES ?" "No, those are lightning bugs, Princess," Flynn said with a sigh. "In-sects. Whose butts glow." "Right. I'm an idiot," Rapunzel said, trying to get one to land on her. "Because in real life, fairies aren't real but witches are." "Touché," he said good-naturedly, with a bow. Rapunzel felt her chest flutter.

The house was squashed like a mushroom by a thatched roof that hung far out over the walls. A pair of windows sparkled on either side of a rounded, heavy wooden door. There was nothing particularly creepy or witch-ish about it at all, except for maybe some leeks that grew on the roof around the higgledy-piggledy chimney (out of which wafted a lovely, homey-smelling smoke). Next to the cottage was a small fenced-in kitchen garden, and even in the low light Rapunzel could see it wasn't given over just to herbs and vegetables. Tall rockets of flowers and pretty, feathery foliage shot colorfully out of the corners. There was even a neat flagstone path that led up to the front door. "Witch?" Flynn asked, skeptical. "Or, like... crunchy earth mother type who drinks herbal teas and pretends the goddess speaks to her?

GONE PAINTING! and then locked up the shop. “Follow me,” he said with a huge grin. “I’m sure there will be some fresh meadow grass for you to munch while we paint,” Rapunzel said, encouraging Maximus to follow. Maximus tilted his head. That carrot had been good, but a meadow filled with sweet, green grass sounded delicious. He wouldn’t let that distract him from keeping an eye on Flynn, though.

Maximus’s ears twitched. He wasn’t sure how he had gotten himself involved with this village tour, but a snack sounded good to him. He neighed happily. Maximus had been doing his royal duty, chasing Flynn and the stolen crown. Then he’d met Rapunzel. She told him that every year on her birthday, she’d watch the sky from her tower and wonder about the lanterns. Her only dream was to see the lanterns and find out what they

If it's any consolation, I used my fantastic powers to turn things different colors today," she said with a smile. "Well, one color. Black." "Very goth. And hey, more than I could do." He looked down at her trailing silver hair. "This is a much better look for you, by the way. Neoromantic. And... not actually deadly, I take it?" "It's harmless," she said with a smile. "At least until the new moon. And even then, I have to be actually focusing and directing it to cause harm. I still have a lot to learn, but I feel... comfortable with it now. No more tying it up!" Flynn smiled and for a moment looked like he was going to reach for her hair, now that it wasn't dangerous. His hand rose and floated in the air halfway between him and her... and then he quickly used it to slick his own hair back out of his face. "Yeah. My hair can do things, too. But it's kind of dramatic and you have to ask nicely, sometimes with a little gel.

You know if they catch you-- which they will-- the countess will torture you until you wish that you had died under the headsman's ax back home." "Yes, Treggsy, thank you. I am aware of that." "This is an entirely new side of Flynn Rider we haven't seen before," the older man said thoughtfully. "Good luck," Gina said. "There's more of a chance of us getting caught if we both go. I'll stay back and rescue you and Rapunzel if it comes to that." "Couldn't have said it better myself," Flynn said. "Except for that part about me needing rescue. That was garbage." Konrad rode back to the castle with the dagger and the message, and Flynn Rider marched toward Castle Bathory to sneak in and save the princess. ... And was caught, only ten minutes after he slipped inside.

Rapunzel, I'm not anything heroic or wonderful or whatever you thought," he said sadly. "I'm a sneak thief mostly out for my own good. The rest of it's a lie. My name isn't even Flynn Rider." "Um, what?" Of all the many things she thought he might say, this was not one of them. "My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. At least, that was what was on record at the orphanage." There might have been a glint from inside a guard's helmet at that, as if he couldn't help sniggering a little. Rapunzel's jaw actually fell open. "Eugene?" she asked. "Yes." "And doesn't Fitz mean--" "Yes, it does," he interrupted in annoyance. "But who knows if that's really my family name, or a real name, or whatever. I think of myself as Flynn Rider. Daring hero, escape artist, adventurer extraordinaire... Eugene is someone who wastes away in an orphanage, who nobody wants. Eugene eats porridge once or twice a day, maybe, and wears the old clothes that bigger kids grew out of a generation ago." "I like Eugene," Rapunzel protested, patting his hand. "I like it better than Flynn. It sounds more... real. Like who you really are." "Thanks," he muttered. "No, really! Eugene doesn't abandon his friends. Eugene makes snarky remarks... and then hangs around witchy goat farms to see how he can help. Eugene pauses his wild, adventurous life to make sure the people around him get their happy endings. Eugene gives crowns back to their rightful owners." "Eugene winds up drained of his blood in a castle ruled by a demonic she-beast," Flynn said, looking up to gauge his captors' possibly violent response. They didn't move. "Flynn Rider is somewhere off riding into the sunset--" "Without his princess," Rapunzel interrupted, hands on hips. Flynn smiled sadly at her.

If they accept me, they accept all of us. If they reject me, I'm going to burden you until you figure out what to do with me." "I would give all the stolen crowns in the world for you to burden me," Flynn said--- giving his old, devilish smile at the end.

After Gina left, the princess walked the rose garden by herself, feeling melancholy and moody. She wondered about the ends of things, and if happily ever afters ever lasted. That's how Flynn found her. Sensing her mood, he took her by the hand and pulled her over to the little bench by the apple trees. "What are we doing?" Rapunzel asked curiously. "I think you need a break from princessing," Flynn said. "Besides, it's after eight. Wayyyyy past time for reading." He held up a book whose cover he had replaced with one he made; it said Book #38. Rapunzel, overwhelmed by how much he understood and loved her, reached up and kissed him fully on the lips. Reading would have to wait until later.

Then she got to work. Thinking a bit of organization would help, Rapunzel took out the wanted poster of Flynn and made a chart on the back, dividing the rectangle into twenty-eight days. She wrote the moon phases neatly on each. On Day One, New Moon, she wrote Murderhair. Now it was Day Six; Waxing Crescent. Under this she wrote Transformative-- Lizard to Dragon. Day 8 would be Waxing Half Moon-- that would be exciting, right? Maybe that would mean a really big change in her powers. For Day 15, Full Moon, she wrote Healing? She looked at her neat little chart and felt very pleased with herself. Projects. They were the best.

We have Gina here dress up as Rapunzel...." "Never going to happen," Gina said immediately. "Come on, it's just for a few hours. You'll be the bait." "Nope. But you have a slender waist-- maybe with the corset..." "In your dreams." "Oh, believe me, my dreams have nothing to do with you in a corset. My nightmares, on the other hand..." "There's a reason I never wanted more than one kid," the Goodwife muttered. Dodger let out an angry bleat from the window. "Human kid," she added apologetically.

They wanted me to not have any hope of returning, so they royally ordered her to tell me all that." "Then why give you anything with the royal sigil on it?" Flynn asked quietly. "If they didn't want you to know who you were? Like your pretty red bracelet there. Tirulian red coral, handwrought chain, pure gold clasp-- yes, yes, I totally sized it up. And the royal sun on the back." Rapunzel looked at her bracelet in wonder. The little sun, constant companion of her childhood, in mobiles, embroidered on her clothing, on the little gifts Gothel sometimes gave her, the crown... That was the symbol of the royal house? Her whole life had been hints of the truth, everywhere!

It was hard to believe that Flynn was the same species or gender as the Stabbingtons: he was smaller, lithe, muscled but slim. Few to no scars-- or at least, only really fetching ones that accentuated his features. His face was built for all kinds of smiles; even cocky ones like the grin he sported right now. His nose was not at all like in the posters. Rapunzel felt a warmth wash over her and had to stop herself from staring.

She pulled out her journal. "The lights-- I mean, lanterns-- always appear a month and eight days before the summer solstice," she said, checking her figures and drawings for the thousandth time. "May twelfth. Yeah," Flynn said.

He caught her staring at him and gave her a sly look. "Super impressed with being with a real live criminal, huh?" he asked, smiling with surprisingly nice white teeth. "I'm super impressed with anyone who can fight and knows these woods and the world so well. I guess Gina does, too." "Yes, Gina." He frowned. "She's kind of a weirdo. Nice weirdo, mind you. But very, very odd." A flurry of thoughts winged their way through Rapunzel's head like a confused flock of birds on a late summer test flight. She couldn't separate the different feathered things out. She was also puzzled by the look on Flynn's face: he raised his eyebrows and sort of gazed at her, turning his head so it was a little sideways. He smiled so that his lips stretched wide at the corners but remained partially closed over his teeth. Obviously it was some sort of expression Gothel didn't make but that other people commonly used. So she tried to copy him. "What are you doing?" Flynn asked. "I 'on't ow," Rapunzel responded, keeping her lips in the same half position. "'at are oo oing?" "Okay, you're kind of a weirdo, too. No wonder you two get along so well," Flynn said, shaking his head and dropping the look. "Usually the smolder works on all the ladies." "Oh, you were trying to..." Rapunzel began to giggle. Books #27 and #28 were tales of knights and damsels and adventures--- with more than a touch of romance. Flynn looked offended. "No, please try again!" Rapuunzel begged. "Oh, the mood's gone. Forget it," he said, rolling his eyes. But he smiled-- a real smile this time, a natural one.

She took his moment of stillness to study him intently. From an... artist's perspective. All she could see was his body at an angle: the top of his head (he had brown hair), and his arms when they were out (they seemed young and muscular and lithe). She wished she could see his face. The way he moved made her think that he was probably handsome. (She couldn't have said why, nor did she bother to differentiate think from hope.

The chèvre's real good this time, Ma. What's the herb?" Gina asked. "Wild amaranth tips-- seaseep. Your old friend Karl picked it for me from the Fenton." Flynn grinned at Rapunzel over their meal. Get a load of them, he seemed to say, cocking his head at the two women. Rapunzel smiled back, honey dripping out the side of her mouth. He reached over without thinking and dabbed it off with his finger. They both froze, looking at each other. Then Flynn coughed and went back to eating.

You haven't even asked what I'll pay you," Rapunzel said innocently. "You don't have enough," Flynn promised. Then he turned to Gina and said in a theatrical whisper, "This is where she offers her necklace, or a bracelet, or some other rich girl trinket I couldn't pawn even if I wanted...." "How about a crown?" Rapunzel suggested. Flynn grew very, very still. "Uh-oh," Gina said with a wicked grin. "What, um-- what crown?" Flynn asked casually. "The one that you stole. The one that the Stabbingtons want back. The one that you hid, rather obviously, in a tree hollow," Rapunzel said smugly, crossing her arms. "Diamonds, pearls, about my size... You know, that crown?" "That's my crown! Give it back! I stole it fair and square!" Flynn, cried, leaping up. "You mean you stole it from the castle, or you stole it from the Stabbingtons?" Gina asked interestedly. "Doesn't matter," Flynn said, crossing his arms and setting his jaw childishly. "It's mine now." "Well, no, it's mine," Rapunzel said. "At least until you take me to see the lanterns, and home again. Then it's yours." "You must have seen me hide it! In the tree!" "Déduction très brillante," Rapunzel said archly.

An orphan who was kept as a prisoner in a tower with plague signs to keep away?" Gina gently teased. "Seems like a lot of work. Nahh, I bet you're a princess of some sort." Rapunzel stared at her. Then she began guffawing: big, hearty barks of laughter. "She doesn't sound like one," Flynn observed. "She wears a pretty dress like one," Gina pointed out. "Your skin is creamy and perfect," Flynn said. "I mean, um, I guess." "You have a crown," Gina said. "It's not my crown," Rapunzel shouted, still laughing. "I grew up in two rooms... not a giant castle. I don't have any servants, or ladies-in-waiting..." "... or crowns you didn't steal," Flynn added. "... or a white horse, or velvet capes, or a scepter..." "You do have that magnificent hair, though," Flynn pointed out. "I mean, just look at it. It looks fancy and expensive and royal. A normal person, even a lord or lady, couldn't manage locks half that long. Even if it ever came in silver, which seems reeealllly unlikely." He leaned forward to get a better look, and at first Rapunzel did nothing, suddenly aware of his closeness. Whatever he said about her skin, Flynn's was also clear, healthy, and peachy. He had a little bit of hair on his chin (not a full beard like she had seen in pictures), a tiny feathery thing that she kind of wanted to touch.

Gothel had told her that cutting her hair would kill her. The Goodwife said that was nonsense; it would only affect her powers, if anything at all. And come to think of it, Rapunzel did lose the occasional hair when it caught on something, or when she was combing it out. The dead hairs turned a dull brown, and it used to panic her when she was little. Did it take a day off her life? A month? A year? She thoughtfully wrapped a lock of hair around her fingers. Biting her lip, she brought the shears up.... "Rapunzel? What are you doing? No!" Flynn had quietly come in (and had paused at the door, preparing to say something theatrical) but immediately dropped all playing. He ran over and grabbed her hands, holding them away from her. "What... oh," Rapunzel said, confused and taking a moment to figure out what he was doing. "You thought I was going to hurt myself. You didn't hear what the Goodwife said? Cutting my hair won't kill me." "Oh. No, I did not hear that," Flynn said, collapsing against the edge of the workbench. But he didn't let go of her right hand. "Maybe when the group learns something important like that, you could let me in on it? You know, keep me in the loop?" "Sorry," she said, a little chagrined. "I guess this looked really bad, didn't it?" "You have no idea, Rapunzel, I... I think I died a little when I saw that." He opened his mouth, trying to say something else. Was he going to go into full funny Flynn Rider mode? Or was he actually going to say something serious? Rapunzel could hardly breathe, waiting to see. And then he kissed her. It wasn't like the night before, when there was a pause and a feeling of expectation. He took her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. With desperation, maybe as if she really had almost died. Rapunzel shivered-- and for the slightest moment panicked that it was her magic activating. But it wasn't... When he stopped, she reached up and touched his lips gently. She didn't want the moment to end. "I don't want to lose you," he whispered. "But if I have to... I'd rather it be to your happy ending than to..." "Brigands and mercenaries, or a hair-related death, I know. You do care, Flynn Rider!