Disclaimer: No, I don't own Tangled at all.

A/n: 50th story! That's crazy. I definitely thought that'd be Harry Potter, but I guess not :) So, this is my first attempt ever at Tangled. Just saw the movie for the first time about a week ago, and it's beyond adorable. So I tried my hand at it, because I love Rapunzel and Eugene and everything, so here we go. Reviews are love.

fairytale requiem

the moment that starts them all

First, the huge green eyes.

Then the suspicious curl of the lip.

Then, and only then, the hair.

That's how he sees her for the first time.

the girl with the hair

He imagines she lives her whole life as the girl with the hair. Without ever leaving that tower, knowing only one person, she is still only the girl with the hair. The long train of gold is her defining feature, it makes her her, but he doesn't quite believe that.

The hair, of course, is the first thing she demands about. Because that's the assumption – no one would come for her. They would come for the hair.

He doesn't think that at the time, tied up in golden locks, some stranger stealing his stolen crown (stealing it rather rightfully, seeing as it's hers, but he doesn't know that yet). But later, once he starts to really see her, that's when he realizes she's never met someone who's wanted more from her than her long golden locks.

It stings in the most unexpected way.

the thief with the crown

he imagines that she defines him as the thief. Though a thousand times more willing to take a chance with him than most, he imagines she's a little disappointed that the only chance she's got is with an arrogant, wanted bandit with a messy past and a secret lonely streak.

It makes him disappointed in himself, honestly. He isn't the best choice to help her at all, and he's all she's got, and for one of those big, life-long dream type deals… well, he doesn't want to screw it up. She deserves a lot better.

She does. And realizing that, it's the first time he's ever gotten past his own arrogance and thought someone could be better. She is full of life and awe and wonder; every miniscule thing is a delight and a miracle, and he hasn't laughed or grinned so much in days.

He feels alive in a way he hasn't for ages, sitting by the fire with her, running through tunnels with her, escaping everything with her.

the night with the lanterns

and then there's that moment.

(the stuff fairytales and magic and everything is made of, and he finally gets why everyone always talks about finding love)

her hair's all strung up with flowers and her eyes are all starstruck and he's falling ohsohard and she looks too innocent and too lovely and he's dying in the best way.

And god, the way her eyes light from the lantern he hands her, god, the way she smiles.

There's nothing better than his hand on the back of her neck, than the sweet smell of the wildflowers and the water, than the glow of the lanterns, and the way she closes her eyes.

And then there's a light on the shore and his stomach drops in an entirely different way and it's gone.

the part where it ends

he knows he's just a bandit and a thief and honestly, he never thought he'd die like this.

In fact, he doesn't really think he deserves to die for such a good purpose. He should probably die by the gallows or a drunken bar fight, for a useless reason like money or fame. But instead, he's with her.

He doesn't do attachments or commitments for anyone or anything, but he is perfectly content to bleed to death in an abandoned tower for a girl he's just barely met but is so sure he needs.

He needs her, because she's got a smile brighter than all this kingdom's lanterns put together, and eyes the colour of a blade of grass lit up by the sunshine, and a laugh that's a million times more beautiful than any song he's ever heard. He needs her for the way she looks at him, and the way she says 'Eugene' and the way her hand feels in his. He needs her for a frying pan in the head, and dancing in the streets, and those moments where they both just look at each other and for the first time in his life, he doesn't feel like running away.

He needs her in a way that has nothing to do with the long trail of hair that's all anyone's needed from her before.

And in that empty tower filled with the haunting coils of brown hair and the eerie paintings and remnants of a horrific childhood, the last image he has is her beautiful green eyes.

First, the brown hair twisting around the tower floor.

Then, the devastated line of her mouth.

Then, and only then, the beautiful green eyes.

That's how he sees her for what he's sure is the last time.