The Light in the Darkness | Sirius Black Tangled AU

one | the sun

       This is the story of how I died. Don't worry, this is actually a very fun story, and the truth is, it isn't even mine. This is the story of a girl named Rapunzel, and it starts with the sun.

       Once upon a time, long before the Chosen One, long before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, long before magic itself, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. From this small drop of sunlight grew a flower, and from this flower grew a garden, and from this garden grew a forest - a forest full of magic.

       It was the beginning of magic, and for centuries, the earth lived in harmony with it, growing from it, cultivating it, and in some cases, learning to wield it. Thus witches and wizards got their start. From there, it was a rocky, downward slope.

       As humans are known to do, they misinterpreted this magic, this rare and beautiful magic, to be power, and once they got a taste for it, these fallible humans only wanted more. This magical forest, a gift from the heavens above, was depleted of its sunlight until it was just a garden, then just a flower, then, rumor has it, nothing at all. The forest, once known for its shining light, became dark and dangerous and was henceforth known as the Black Forest. But, deep within the forest, away from the prying eyes of even the most ruthless humans, the single, original flower born from the drop of sunlight, lived on.

       For centuries more, the flower lay untouched until one fateful night when a woman, a descendant of some of the most vile and power-hungry wizards, found it after nearly three hundred years of searching.

       Though the witch was over three hundred years old, she did not look it. It is true that those able to wield the magic they took from the forest live longer lives than those who are not, but to live past one hundred and fifty years was extremely rare, and often frowned upon. This witch was no saint - she was a woman terrified of Death, a woman who would do anything she could not to meet him, and she has. She has lived for so long off of her own dark magic, off of stolen elixirs from more accomplished alchemists, and, should the need arise, off of the blood of the most pure - the unicorns. Because of it, she lives a cursed life but it doesn't matter, as long as she lives. Her name is Gothel Leichtenberg.

       It was on her way to Paris to steal yet another elixir that she heard whispers of the flower. While she had looked for it in her youth, she had long deemed it to be nothing but legend, but this whisper gave her hope. She abandoned her ploy to steal the Philosopher's Stone and put all her efforts into finding the flower. Where better to look than the Black Forest?

       Deep in the forest, away from prying eyes, even away from the sunlight that birthed it, Gothel finally came upon the flower. To the untrained eye, it looked to be an ordinary flower, but Gothel knew better. Her ancestors had been some of the first to wield the magic of the forest, and they had passed it down their line not just how to identify the flower, but how to take every last drop of the magic it had.

       Shaking with glee, Gothel approached the six-petaled flower, and cupping it in her hands, she began to chant in a kind of hymn:

       "Blume, leuchtend schön,

       Kannst so mächtig sein,

       Dreh' die Zeit zurück,

       Gib mir was einst war mein,

       Blume, leuchtend schön,

       Lass' mich nicht allein

       Halt' das Schicksal auf

       Gib mir was einst war mein,

       Was einst war mein."

       Aroused by her words, the flower began to glow with its ancient magic, slowly ironing out the wrinkles of the fingers that touched its petals, working their way up to the rest of the body and bringing back the youth to the witch better than any elixir or unicorn blood ever could. Because of the flower, Gothel Leichtenberg was returned to the beautiful witch of her prime.

       From what she had heard from those who came before her, she expected the flower to wither away into dust once she had taken the power from it, but as the glow faded, the flower simply returned to what it had been before she had used it. She was pleasantly surprised to see how resilient it was, and left it without a guilty conscience.

       She didn't think a thing of it until a fortnight later. Astounded by her own beauty after the magic of the flower, Gothel had taken to gazing at her reflection every chance that she could, but that morning, she was horrified at what she saw in the clear, reflective river water. Her wrinkles were back, her hair was nearly white, and for the first time, the woman actually looked her age. She was appalled. It became apparent to her then that while the flower itself was resilient, the magic it provided was extremely finite.

       From that day forward, Gothel became reliant on the magical flower. She could never go far from it, fearing that the day she wandered too far would be the day she couldn't make it back. So, she made the Black Forest her home. Deep within it, she found her paradise - a small alcove hidden away in the mountains, complete with a stream, a waterfall, and a concealed entrance - that was less than a day's journey from the flower. She simply waved her wand and constructed a tall tower in the middle of it, and she had settled.

       Once a week, every week following, Gothel would make the journey to the flower and sing her song to it, healing herself of all wounds, bringing back her beauty, and turning back the clock so she might never have to meet Death. It was a wonderous life that she had made for herself, and she fell into a blissful pattern. Because of this drop of sunlight, she found herself in a beautiful eternity.

       That is until one day, when she had made her journey to the flower and found it to be gone.