Good or Bad (A Tangled: The Series Fiction)

1

Nobody ever ended up in my part of the Corona royal dungeon. It was a place only for the worst or slipperiest of the criminals. Escape artists and pure evils only.

So, it should be easy to imagine my surprise when a kid younger than me was dragged in. He didn't look like bad guy material. He was skinny, and a good inch shorter than I was. His black hair was bouncy, and a light blue stripe highlighted his bangs. His eyes were just as bright a blue as his hair, and they shone with a sharp hatred mixed with guilt.

His shirt was teal, and had darker blueish patches on the sleeves. His hands were covered by black gloves that were dull with what looked like soot. His baggy brown pants were covered in stains and burn marks. He wore a brown apron over it all, and scratched up goggles atop his head.

"Bold move, giving me a friend to chat with," I said with a smirk, walking up and leaning against the bars to chat with the nearest guard. "You know, it's really lonely here. I'm glad for the company."

"Shut it!" The guard snapped, slamming an arm guard against the metal. I stumbled back in alarm at the clang, and was disoriented for a moment by the ringing in my ears, but I shook it off and resumed grinning. I noticed the boy hadn't responded to any of this, glaring ahead.

"What did you do to wind up here?" I asked him. Still no response. I waited until the guard stepped away to push the kid into the cell across from mine, and I hesitantly went back to the bars. "Must've been quite the crime."

"You were told to shut up!" A guard growled at last. One of the guards undid the cuffs on the boy's hands, and he sat on a bench in his cell. I leaned on the bars again to continue inspecting him closely. Almost immediately, a hand shot forward and shoved me back. I glared at the guard.

"Next time, I won't be so nice," He said. I shrugged and sat back against the wall. Several minutes went by of the guards running through rules and routines.

"You eat once a day. Guards are around at all times, so don't try anything. Once a more specific punishment is decided, it will begin immediately. Someone will come and deliver the punishment, then leave..."

It felt like forever before they finished, but then they left. When they were gone, the kid turned to face away from me, toward the back wall of his cell. It was silent for an hour, with guards coming and going more than usual. I watched them.

"Wow. You must be real bad if they're stepping up their game like this," I remarked. The boy scoffed, but said nothing. I crossed my legs and sat forward. "Come on, that was a compliment!"

"A compliment?" He sounded incredulous at first, staring over his shoulder at me, then realization dawned on his face, and he looked angry. He turned fully around. "Do you... Do you commit crimes for fun? Do you seriously like ending up here?"

"Oh, so you do talk," I said smugly. He rolled his eyes, the glare not leaving his expression. I once again leaned back, folding my hands behind my head to avoid the discomfort of the rough wall. "Nah, I'm not a fan of being here, but I do very much enjoy breaking the rules, yes."

"Great. Locked up with the real criminals," He muttered. I laughed a little bit, but his face was dead serious. "Okay, maybe things got a little out of hand, but my life isn't ruined because of me! It's Princess Rapunzel's fault. I'm innocent. The victim."

"First of all, no one's innocent. Not you. Sure as hell not me. Not the princess. Second, even if it was initially caused by someone else, you chose to push it. Believe me, I've been stuck here long enough to think that one over," I looked at the wall beside me, slightly uncomfortable with giving advice I don't follow.

"Why are you here?" The boy questioned. I waggled a finger at him, plastering on a smile again.

"Ah ah ah. You tell me your crime first," I reminded him. He hesitated, looking away. I could have sworn there were tears in his eyes, but they were gone before I could be sure.

"Attempted murder, endangerment, assault with a deadly weapon, attacking the royal family, treason, illegal construction..." The list went on and on, and my eyes widened with surprise. The boy noticed my shocked expression, and he stopped. "I get it if you don't want to talk anymore."

"Are you kidding?" I said. He looked surprised, but shook his head. I crawled up to the bars and leaned up against them eagerly. "I want to hear more about you knocking some sense into His Highness!"

There was a pause, and the boy fell silent. It soon became clear he don't want to chat anymore, so I went to the corner of the cell. After a few minutes, I fell asleep.

I woke up the next day, but neither the kid nor I spoke at all. My punishment for my crimes was the same as always. If I said I regretted my actions, I was given a full meal. Every day I refused, an item was taken from the plate. By the end of the week, I never had anything left on my plate. I wouldn't lie and say I didn't enjoy my life of thieving.

The boy shot an anxious glance in my direction when a guard showed me an empty platter before walking off. He ate his own food without looking up, but still seemed bothered.

The day after that, I tried talking to the kid again. He still seemed in shock from whatever landed him in the dungeon, so I stuck to light chat.

"Hey, how old are you?"

"Why do you care?"

His sharp tone didn't bother me. I'd heard much worse.

"Hey, I'm just curious. You look pretty young."

"So do you!"

"Touché."

"Well, how old are you?"

I paused for several minutes. How old was I? I hadn't thought of my age in years. I silently counted from the last time I remembered celebrating my birthday.

"....Sixteen?"

"Why does that sound like a question?"

"I lose track of time in here. It doesn't matter. How old are you?"

"I-I'm fourteen."

"Damn. You act older."

"I'm mature for my age."

He was quiet for a long time. The guards came with food, and asked me the same question as always. I gave the same answer as always, and they left without giving me anything.

"Hey, your apron has buttons on it, right?" I said quietly when they were out of earshot. He nodded slowly, his eyes searching my expression. I stayed neutral. "Hand me one. Please. I would ask for a fork, but they'll notice if it goes missing."

"What do you need a button for?" He asked. I watched him toy with one of the metal circles on the apron.

"I want out, and I'll bet you do, too. Just trust me," I said. He cringed, then shook his head and continued eating. I shrugged and sat against the wall.

One way or another, I would escape, and this kid was my ticket to freedom. If only I could get him to trust me.