Tangled - l.s

Chapter 3

"No no no no..." Tommo grabbed a wanted poster, his name and face printed on it, whipping around and showing his accomplices. "They can never get my nose right!"

One of the brothers sneered, "Who cares?"

Tommo groaned. "That's easy for you to say! You guys look great!" He gestured at their own wanted posters, their faces drawn perfectly. He sighed, turning to the cliff in front of them. "Alright, just give me a boost and then I'll pull you guys up."

The brothers looked at each other before looking back at Tommo. "Give us the satchel first," one of them said.

Tommo's jaw dropped and he scoffed. "Wha...? I- I just can't believe, after all these years we've been together, you don't trust me!"

The Grimshaw brothers rolled their eyes. Tommo sighed.

"Ouch." He dropped the satchel into their hands and waited for them to help him up.

When he reached the top, one of them held up a hand. "Now help us up, pretty boy."

Tommo chuckled, looking down. "I would, but... 'fraid my hands are full." He dangled the satchel in front of them and then took off running, laughing.

"What- Rider!"

He just kept running, enjoying himself until he heard the royal guard.

"Retrieve that satchel with any force required!"

Tommo ran faster, now less entertained and more terrified.

"We've got him now, Maximus..."

The horse neighed, speeding up. Tommo jumped, snatching at a hanging vine, hoping to move out of the way. The vine had other plans, swinging him all the way around and kicking the captain of the guard off the saddle and taking his place. Tommo whooped, trying to urge Maximus further.

The horse didn't budge, instead looking at Tommo with the equine equivalent of a glare.

"C'mon, go! Ya!"

Maximus snapped at him.

"Stop that! Go!"

Maximus reared, flinging him over a few trees. He scrambled to grab onto a branch. It snapped, and he tumbled to the ground.

"Ow..."

He groaned, standing up, looking around for somewhere to hide-

"What is that...?"

There was a tall tower in the middle of the clearing.

"Perfect."

He grinned, running towards it and clinging to the stones as he climbed up to the window. He hopped in, clutching the satchel.

He chuckled, looking down at the bag. "Alone at last..."

CLANG

He flinched, toppling forward, completely unconscious.

_______________

Harry stood over him, holding a cast iron frying pan high. For a moment, all he could do was stand and stare. A new person was in his tower. A new person was in his tower. How was that possible? Why was he here? What did he want? Was he... dangerous?

Harry leaned down hesitantly and used the handle of the frying pan to lift up the corner of the man's mouth. He didn't have pointy teeth like Mother Yolanda said men had... but maybe only some men had that. She couldn't be wrong.

The man on the floor let out a little groan.

Harry squealed and hit him again with the frying pan for good measure. When the man was still and quiet once more, Harry leaned down again and flicked back a strand of hair, getting a better look at the man's face. He was... very handsome- No, no he wasn't. He wasn't attractive at all, he was a threat and he'd brought... something into the tower.