You're smart enough to stake the place out before pulling any heroics, so you're at the base of the tower, behind some shrubbery, watching the comings and goings of its occupants. Nothing's happening yet, but within moments, you see a hag approach the tower and stand below its single window.

"Rapunzel!" she shouts above, her voice an unbearable screech, like fingernails on chalkboard. "Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

Half a minute passes, then a long, thick braid of roped hair the color of amber is lowered from the window, spanning the entire length of the tower. You realize--oh, my goodness!--that it's Rapunzel's hair, the same one in the picture the old man gave to you. Your heart beats faster, and you wonder what it would be like to run your fingers through those amber waves.

Meanwhile, the witch has reached the top, and from your hiding place, you hear her scold and nag Rapunzel about various things--about what, you can't really tell. If Rapunzel has any response to the lecture, you don't hear it. You only watch the long braid of hair make its way up the tower again, to disappear inside the window.

An hour later, the braid makes its way back down again, and the witch climbs down it, to run whatever errands she needs to run is your guess. When she has disappeared, you make your way close to the base of the tower and call out in your most hag-like voice.

"Rapunzel! Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

Amazingly enough, it works. A long braid of hair is lowered down from the window, and when the end of it reaches you, you bury your fingers in the amber locks and breathe in the clean, flowery scent. Then, with the pair of scissors tucked safely in your pack, you climb up the tower.

When you reach the window, you peer over the sill to find Rapunzel grasping the base of the braid and holding it stable, wrapped around a bedpost. Her eyes are closed tightly as she braces herself against your weight, and there's a quizzical slant to her eyebrows, as though she can't figure out why her burden's much heavier than usual. After all, with all your muscle and bone, you weigh a lot more than the witch does. Not wanting to strain her, you get over the window sill as quickly as you can to relieve her, and you start to pull her braid in without taking your eyes off her. You wait anxiously to see her reaction to you.

She doesn't disappoint you. When she slowly opens her eyes and sighs with relief, you stand straighter and smile. She notices you for the first time, is startled, and nearly does a double-take. Then she looks at her braid, as though she can't believe what it has brought her, and she looks at you again in wonder.

She's beautiful, simply beautiful. Her widened eyes are big and liquid brown, curious but innocent, and her invitingly soft lips are momentarily shaped in an O of surprise. You can tell that her heart is beating at a higher rate than normal because her breasts are rising and falling gently but noticeably, and the pulse in her neck starts to distract and excite you. Then she speaks, her voice trembling and low, breathy.

"You're not..." she falters.

"That witch?" You laugh softly. "Hardly."

Unsure how to respond, Rapunzel licks her lower lip. Fascinated, you watch her pink tongue dart out, then disappear. "I'm not supposed to have anyone up here," she says finally. She looks at you as though she's never seen a man before. Perhaps the old man was right, and she hasn't.

You clear your throat, feeling unexpectedly hot all of a sudden. "I'll bet you're not supposed to do a lot of things," you venture to say, trying to avoid looking at her mouth and neck, "but the rules that witch has imposed upon you go against all human and legal rights. You're being kept a prisoner here, really, and I'm here to save you."

She gapes at you. "But there's no way in or out except my hair."

You grin, and you pull out the scissors. "If you don't mind losing some weight, we won't have any trouble at all. With all that length and mass, I'll bet your hair is heavy."

Rapunzel's eyes widen. "Mother Gothel never let me near any scissors or knives before."

You roll your eyes. "Gee, I wonder why."

You get behind her, and she holds her braid out to be sheared. The sound of the hair getting cut doesn't seem to bother her as much as you thought it would. When you finish, you tie one end of the long mass to the bedpost and let the other end hang out.

"Ready?" you ask Rapunzel. She nods. "Face me, and put your arms and legs around me. And hold on tight."

She does this, and you're nose to nose with her, the recently cut hair framing her lovely face and accentuating her wide eyes. Her womanly scent teases your nostrils as you begin to climb down the tower with her in your arms.

"I never dreamed it would be this easy," she murmers, her breath warm against your ear.

"It hardly ever is," you tell her. By then, you've reached the ground, and the two of you run off, get married, and live happily ever after.