Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Three months.

It’s been three months since Rapunzel had first left her tower. Three months since she had met Flynn Rider — Eugene Fitzherbert. Three months since she had learnt the truth about humanity.

People are evil, her mother’s voice whispers in her mind, and just like that, Rapunzel is taken back to the past when she first reunited with her mother.

She sobbed into her mother’s chest, body shaking, as her mother stroked her hair. “I warned you, my flower,” she had said, with a little shake of her head. “The world is dark, and selfish, and cruel. If it finds even the slightest ray of sunshine, it destroys it.”

“I trusted him, Mother,” Rapunzel said, her voice cracking midway through. “I — I trusted him, and he was supposed to help, he was supposed to make things better—”

“Shh,” her mother soothed. “I know, darling. I know. I tried to spare you from this, didn’t I? You should have listened to your mother. The only person you can trust is me.”

Rapunzel shakes her head, forcing herself out of the memory. She stares up at her painted ceiling, filled with flowers and beautiful, colorful designs.

She no longer draws the lanterns. She no longer draws the outside. Rapunzel knows better, now. The world is a horrible place; in the tower, at least, Rapunzel is safe. She is loved. This is where she’s meant to be.

“Rapunzel!” Sing-songs a voice from outside, cheery and bright. “Let down your hair!”

Rapuzel’s heart soars. Her mother is finally home. “Coming!” She calls out, practically running out of her room. Hooking her hair on the mechanism, she pulls her mother to the top of the tower with a well-practiced ease.

Her mother lets out a sigh of relief as she steps into the tower. Immediately, the cloak gets hung on the rack and Rapunzel brings out two chairs and a hairbrush. After the…incident, her mother has been more worried about the incantation. They no longer waste time on pleasantries; instead, they move directly into the song.

After their normal ritual, Rapunzel leans in close and listens to her mother talk about her day.

“I went out and bought everything necessary to make hazelnut soup today, but these uncivilized thugs attempted to steal from the market—”

The two of them have gotten closer after what happened three months ago. Rapunzel no longer has any more doubts; her mother has smoothed them over.

Her life is filled with routine — the same things happen day after day. This does not bother Rapunzel any longer, but rather fills her with a sense of security and comfort.

“Mommy is going to freshen up in her room for a bit now, darling, I am dreadfully exhausted from the ordeal today,” her mother says, rising to her feet.

Rapunzel stands, too. “I’m sorry, mother.” Her mother is tired because she tried to do something nice for her . Guilt churns in her stomach.

Her mother half-smiles. “Thank you, my flower.” She presses a small kiss at the top of Rapunzel’s hair and departs, heading to her room. She hears the door close, and Rapunzel lies down, taking out her paints.

She has not been able to paint in a while, but that never stopped her from trying. Carefully mixing her paints to form a light-brown color, she brings her paintbrush close to the tower’s wall. It hovers for a second in the air. The brown paint drips onto the ground — the same color of brown as the boat from her birthday.

“He left, girl,” said the menacing, red-haired man to the left. Gesturing grandly with his hand, he reveals Eugene, sailing away on a brown boat, a hand clutching the crown.

“No,” Rapunzel said softly. She shook her head, trying to dispel the doubts rising in her mind. No, that couldn’t be right. She trusted Eugene. She even — she loved him. “No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t leave. Eugene?” She called out, but he did not turn, didn’t even flinch. She raises her voice louder and tried again. “Eugene!”

The man on the right with the eyepatch stepped forward. Rapunzel turns to face him. “We made a deal, you see,” he said, his face twisting into something resembling a smile. “The crown for the girl with the magic hair.”

They advanced in unison, and Rapunzel’s heart began to pound. Stumbling backwards, she tripped and fell to the ground.

The men pounced.

Rapunzel blinked rapidly, getting back to her senses. She glared at the tower’s walls, like it had committed a wrongdoing towards her.

As much as she tries, she can’t seem to forget what happened.

Pascal climbs down from her shoulder, walking to the palms of her hands. He curls up in them, tilting his head slightly to the left.

“I can’t believe I let myself think he really loved me, Pascal,” she whispers, and lets the tears fall, silently coursing down her cheeks. She smiles a self-deprecating smile, one that she only lets herself do when her mother is not in the room. “But I mean, who could blame him? I’ve been locked up in a tower my whole life. Who’d want someone like that?”

As much as she tries to justify it to herself, she can’t. In the beginning, Rapunzel tried to understand why Eugene would betray her like that. Over time, her mother helped her understand that people did bad things just because they could. Everyone acted in their own self-interest. People will always, always stab you in the back.

“I should’ve stayed with mother. Then none of this would’ve happened.”

Pascal does the best he can, offering her his love and comfort, but it does nothing to soothe the ache Rapunzel feels inside her chest. An ache borne of hurt and anger. An ache, bandaged by rage. Something stirs up deep within her chest, a violence she has never felt before.

Rapunzel hurts, and she is tired of hurting.

She does not deserve to hurt like this. She doesn’t…but Eugene does.

Rapunzel knows, through her mother’s complaints, that the thief managed to escape the death penalty. The two of them had stopped mentioning anything regarding her 18th birthday two weeks after it had occurred, but before then, her mother would tell Rapunzel what the thief’s punishment was: death.

And then suddenly, drastically, it changed — his sentence went from the death penalty to six months in prison.

According to her mother, the whole kingdom of Corona was awash with rumors about why and what happened. But, as ever, the palace remained notoriously tight-lipped. Her mother had simply sniffed, and said, “at least that is the end of it.”

They had stopped talking about Eugene that moment onward.

She takes in a deep breath, holds it, and releases it carefully. She repeats the process a couple more times, the breathing exercise calming and quieting her brain, which is moving at a million miles per second.

It has been three months. Eugene has three months left in prison, and then he will be released back into the public sphere.

Rapunzel wants Eugene to hurt.

She carefully puts down her paintbrush.

It would be simple, really. Her mother has a knife in her front drawer for self-protection — she had shown it to Rapunzel only a few days ago. Rapunzel knows how to get to town, and she has seen the castle in the distance. Once she enters town, she will be able to find the castle easily enough.

And from there, she will be able to find Eugene and make him suffer, just as she is suffering now.

The world, as her mother has often reminded her, is cold, and coarse, and cruel. Rapunzel can be like that, too. She’ll have to be, if she wants to kill Eugene Fitzherbert the very day he’s freed.

Rapunzel wants her revenge, and she will stop at nothing to get it. This is not something she has to tell her mother about; she would only try to discourage her. Rapunzel cannot be deterred. She needs to do this — she needs to kill the thief, and make sure he suffers, too. Rapunzel knows what to do.

Eugene Fitzherbert will regret the day he ever crossed her.

Chapter Text

Life is monotonous in prison. This doesn’t bode well with Eugene, since he is a self-diagnosed adrenaline addict. Thrill entertains him, keeps his interest, colors his world. But once it all dies away, and he is left alone, the colors of his surroundings turn gray, and he cannot bother himself to do much of anything.

That is, until now.

Eugene has been in prisons before; he knows what to do and what to expect by now. But he cannot stay still, cannot get used to the tediousness of this Coronian prison. He is restless; he can’t stop moving.

How could he, when Rapunzel is still out there? How could he stay still, when there was a girl whose hair glowed like the sun, crying out? How could he resist the urge to run when there was Rapunzel, Rapunzel who needed him? Rapunzel, who needs rescuing?

Rapunzel, who he loves, and who he thinks loves him too?

He’s agitating himself, pacing back and forth, and forces himself to still. Three months, Eugene recites in his head. Just three more months. Then you can find Rapunzel.

He had gotten lucky, to be frank. Eugene knows exactly what he was supposed to get; he had seen the noose hanging outside his prison-bar window. It was only by chance, only by fate, that he managed to escape certain doom.

He traces the walls of his cell and lets his mind wander.

“I need to speak with the King and Queen!” Eugene shouted as loud as he can, spit flying from his mouth. He struggled against the tight grip of the Coronian guards. “I need to speak with them, now! Rapunzel!” He howled, as the guards physically threw him into the cell. Eugene’s back hit against the wall, but that didn’t deter him. “ Rapunzel!”

He did not stop shouting her name for what seemed like eternity. When he realized he was not getting through to them, Eugene switched his tactic and began repeating his earlier plea.

“I need to speak to the King and Queen!”

He was not deterred, even though none of the guards said a word, nor even looked at him. They stared straight ahead, eyes forcibly blank, unseeing. They did not acknowledge his presence, his existence. It was a petty act, and normally, Eugene would simply be a bit irritated. Now, with so much more at stake — Rapunzel — he was more than irritated.

He was angered.

Eugene banged on the prison bars, shaking them as hard as he could. “I need to speak with the King and Queen!”

He did not stop shouting until his voice went hoarse, late at night. With nothing left he can say, Eugene stumbled over to the hard bed, laying down heavily. His heart sank in his chest, heavy with guilt.

His dreams that night were of sunshine, and lanterns, and the color green.

The next morning, he was shaken awake by the Captain of the Royal Guard. His face was disgusted, angered, when he looked at the thief.

“Your pathetic cries seem to have gotten through to Their Majesties,” he sneered. “Come with me. I’m supposed to take you to them.”

And Eugene felt hope flare up in his chest.

He takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. If he so wanted, Eugene could break out of this prison right now. He needed time to formulate a plan, but he could do it. But there was so much more at stake.

If he broke out now, the King and Queen would have no more reason to trust him, and he needs them to trust him, desperately.

Eugene needs their supplies, their guards, their information. He had struck a deal with them, after all. If he wants them to keep their side of the bargain, he will have to do the same.

The bargain…

Eugene was forced to a kneeling position as soon as he walked through the door, the manacles digging into his skin, rubbing them raw. Four guards stood at the doors and windows, keeping a wary eye on him. The Captain was standing right next to Eugene, eyes focused on him, even as he bowed to the royalty in the room.

The King and Queen were together in solidarity, the King sitting down on his throne and the Queen standing right behind him, a hand on his shoulder, Their eyes were focused on him, like everyone else’s were, and he was suddenly unable to breathe.

They were not alone. An official, or an ambassador, or some sort of authoritarian was standing next to the King and Queen. An advisor, perhaps? Eugene didn’t know, nor did he care. He had demanded an audience with royalty, and he had finally gotten it.

“Flynn Rider.” The King’s voice came out smooth, yet hard as steel. “The thief, wanted dead or alive. If you’re here to try and plead your way out of the death penalty, you will be mistaken.”

He felt his heart quicken. He did not expect to receive the death penalty…although it did make sense. He had stolen the Crown of the Lost Princess, after all.

“No,” he tried to say, but his voice was too hoarse. Eugene cleared it, and tried again. “No, Your Majesties. There’s something I need to tell you.”

He met their eyes with a solemn stare. The words come haltingly out of his mouth.

“When I stole the crown, I escaped into the wilderness and stumbled across a tower,” he began. “In the tower was a girl with bright green eyes, and the longest blonde hair I’ve ever seen.”

Dead silence.

He took a breath and continued. “She said her name was Rapunzel.”

The King rose out of his chair. “You dare ?” He seethed, face turning red. Spittle was flying out of his mouth. “You will be hanged tomorrow. How dare you try and manipulate us in this manner? Guards! Take him back to his cell!”

“No, please,” Eugene pleaded, as the palace guards began to drag him away. With all his might, he struggled against them, managing to stay in the room a bit longer. “She said she was never allowed outside by her mother. She said she was turning 18 years old, and all she wanted was to see the lanterns that rose on her birthday. Her mother — her so-called mother took her away, bound and gagged, when Rapunzel came back. I need to save her. Please, Your Majesties, let me prove this to you!”

There was nothing but a cold silence, and the guards continued to drag him away. There wasn’t going to be a way, no one was going to act, Rapunzel wouldn’t be saved—

“Halt.”

The words came out of the Queen, and Eugene looked up, meeting her eyes. They were steely with determination. “Release him.”

“But Your Majesty—”

“I said release him!”

The guards did, and the Queen made her way down from beside her husband on the throne all the way to where Eugene was standing. Her eyes met his, the same size and shape and color as her daughter’s.

“Is this true?”

Eugene nodded. “I can take you to her tower, if you’d like, right now.”

The advisor interrupted, his hands clenched white. “Your Majesties, I cannot help but advise against letting this — this common thief — out again. He will only find a way to escape.”

“That’s true, Nigel,” said the King slowly.

The Queen turned to look at her husband. “Frederic, even if this young girl isn’t our daughter, she is certainly in trouble,” she said, voice soft. “We need to help her. But Nigel is right…this could just be a trick so Rider could escape. So I have a proposition.”

She met Eugene’s eyes. “You will tell us exactly where and how to find this tower. If we find you are not lying, we will let you come with us to find this girl. But it will take time, you understand?”

Eugene gritted his teeth. This wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. “I understand.”

He makes his way to sit back down on the bed. Two weeks after his imprisonment, the guards brought him back in front of the King and Queen, and they had informed him that the tower was found. There was no denying the hope in their eyes, the same hope that fills him as well.

They needed six months to prepare, to seek out places where she might be, to gather supplies and weapons and most importantly, information. Eugene would supply them with that, they had ordered, and he had readily agreed.

His time in prison is halfway over.

Eugene closes his eyes.

Three more months.

Chapter Text

Everything is planned out and accounted for. Rapunzel had spent the next three months of her life planning, planning, planning — everything boils down to this moment today.

She had dumped out all her blue paint yesterday, mixed the color with water and dumped it in a plant’s soil. The plant is beginning to wither, but Rapunzel doesn’t care. She had complained about running out of paint, and her mother promised to get some more for her today. It’s a three-day journey.

The last time Rapunzel has tried doing something like this was on her 18th birthday, but much has changed since then. She is smarter, slyer. She is not a naive girl fresh from the tower anymore. Rapunzel is so much more than that.

Another difference, now, is that her mother trusts her more. She was there when Rapunzel vowed to never trust the outside world again; she has faith that her daughter will not want to go outside again.

If it was any other world, that would be right. Rapunzel has absolutely no desire to see or experience the outside world again.

She has to, though. If she wants to kill Flynn Rider.

Rapunzel doesn’t call him Eugene, anymore — hasn’t, since she first began planning this. Eugene was someone she could trust. Flynn is someone she knows is a thief, a liar, a betrayer, and it’s important to keep that distinction in mind, lest she becomes weak again and falls for his lies.

So.

Her mother has just left, leaving Rapunzel alone for three days. Flynn Rider is being released in just a couple of hours. Pascal, ever-loyal, is perched on her shoulder, reassuring her with his warmth and camaraderie.

And Rapunzel has a knife.

She swings her hair out of the tower, letting it flow down towards the ground, until it almost hits the bottom. Rapunzel swallows thickly, her heart beating fast.

For a second, she feels as if she does not want to move, but she pushes that thought down. I have to do this, she reminds herself.

She smiles at Pascal. “Let’s go,” she says, her voice filled with determination, and takes a step out of the tower.

The rush downwards is just as exhilarating as it was the first time, and Rapunzel does not hesitate before stepping back onto the grass. She remembers the feeling of this soil, of the water, of the birds she can finally see.

But Rapunzel doesn’t let herself linger. She takes one, last breath in her only safe space and leaves it behind.

The route back to the main square is one she easily remembers. Knowing its difficulty, she ties her hair so it does not drag on the ground, and begins to walk.

The silence surrounds her, and it’s comforting.

Without all the excitement from last time, it’s much calmer and quicker of a walk. It only takes Rapunzel half a day to walk towards the town, bustling and alive and full of people.

Full of people—

People—

Suddenly she can’t breathe, and stumbles away from it, finding a dark corridor to lean against. She slides down to the ground, unable to breathe. She can’t — she can’t be here, everyone is going to see her, kill her, take away her hair, take her away from her mother until she’s all alone again.

Her vision goes blurry, and she begins to feel faint. Rapunzel knows that something is up, but she can’t stop herself from spiraling down, down, down.

People are evil, people are monstrous, people are psychopaths who lack empathy, and she is surrounded by them. Surrounded by sharks who want to rip her apart and leave her bleeding and mangled on the ground. Her skin ripped to shreds, her arm twenty meters away from where she sits.

Rapunzel can see it, her arm, even though it doesn’t truly exist, and she feels nauseated. She feels like she’s going to throw up, hurl, and she’s blinking in and out of consciousness.

She needs to breathe, to take in deep breaths, but she can’t quite manage it.

I’m going to die here. A statement filled with certainty, making her tear up. I’m going to die here, alone and abandoned, without even my mother here to help. Why did I ever bother leaving the tower again? I know better by now.

But no. She can’t die here, not yet. She has a job to complete, a goal to accomplish, a murder to commit, a life to steal. An eye for an eye.

The thought helps calm her down, and steadies her heart. She looks over at Pascal and manages a smile for him. He stares at her with worried eyes.

“I’m okay,” she says, partially for him and partially for herself. “I’m okay,” she repeats.

After a few minutes of deep, measured breathing, Rapunzel stumbles her way to her feet. Slowly, she makes her way out of the dark corridor and back into the light. This time, she keeps her gaze averted and focuses on the cobblestone path instead of people’s faces. It’s easier this way, helps her focus on her breathing.

She makes her way to the river and sees the boats, docked onto the deck on the harbor. The last time she was here, she had confessed to Flynn. She had been vulnerable. He had toyed with her heart and squeezed it to death.

The memory hardens her resolve, and Rapunzel heads to the palace. She easily follows the path in front of her until it leads up to the grand castle, towering over everything in sight. Once she gets there, she hesitates, unsure of what to do.

She knows Flynn Rider is being released today, but after that, she has no idea. She had stupidly hoped that she would just be able to find him, just like that. But obviously, it seems to be a bit more complicated than that.

Maybe if Rapunzel could find a way into the palace…?

She doesn’t know what time Flynn will be released, or even how. She suspects that even if he is released back into the public, the royal family won’t let him off so easily. He will likely be followed by at least a guard or two.

So she has two choices: either she can stay here and wait for Flynn to come out, or she can figure out how to get inside the palace walls and see if she can find out for herself.

The old Rapunzel would not have even thought about doing something like that. The old Rapunzel was reckless, true, but she also valued her life; she would not endanger it by any means.

Gullible, her mother’s voice whispers in her ear. Naive. Positively grubby! Ditzy, and a bit, well. Vague.

But the old Rapunzel is gone, dead, at the hands of Flynn Rider. And the new Rapunzel…she is much more desperate and much more willing to do whatever she can to get what she wants.

The knife, carefully hidden in her dress pockets, provides a comforting weight.

She is done with passively waiting for her dreams to come true. Rapunzel is going to seek them out with her own two hands.

The only question that remains, now, is how.

Rapunzel cocks her head, looks at the castle sideways. She doesn’t know anything about life out here. If she could, she would stay longer, plan something out. But she does not have the luxury of time.

Her mother will be returning to the tower by the night after tomorrow, and Rapunzel must be back home before she suspects anything.

She has an idea, but it’s flimsy, and won’t hold up to further scrutiny. She doesn’t have a choice, though. There’s nothing to it, then.

“Hide, Pascal,” she tells her friend, who immediately obliges, turning a purple color to match her dress and hiding somewhere within it.

Time to go, then. Rapunzel sucks in a breath and hopes for the best.

She approaches the two palace guards. She sneaked a quick look at their faces — on the left, one burly with a mustache; on the right, one thin with a long nose — before looking back down at the ground, heart calming down once more.

“Um…” she says with a fake timidness, “I’m the new, uh, maid? They told me to come in today…I think I might be a bit late, though. I got lost.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” says the one on the left. “The new maid. We totally knew about this and didn’t forget.”

“Yes, yes, absolutely not,” echoes the other. “Did not forget about this at the slightest. Come right on in then, miss. Kitchens are down the stairs and to the right.”

The two part to let her by, and Rapunzel, after a slight pause, walks in. Her head is spinning. Could it truly be that easy? It must be. But she shouldn’t let her guard down. They could just be trying to trap her by making her believe she had succeeded.

She doesn’t want to be eaten, or tortured, or killed, like mother claims they do to intruders. Rapunzel must keep her guard up at all costs.

She finally comes to the steps of the palace, the doors right in front of her. It’s somewhat insane, for her, to be doing something like this. But she needs to.

With a silent inhale, she pushes open the large, wooden doors.

Let’s finish this.

Chapter Text

When she enters, a guard greets her. He gives her hair a double-take, but simply says, “kitchens are that way,” pointing in the right direction.

Is everyone just going to assume she’s a maid? She did spend most of her life cleaning her tower, so the analogy does make a little bit of sense, but really.

“Alright,” says Rapunzel, promptly ignoring him. She heads down that way, only because it leads downwards. To her general knowledge, prisons were always at the very bottom of the castle.

Every time she comes close to another person, she instinctively flinches away. Rapunzel is comforted only by the reassuring weight of her knife, the one thing that will protect her. People are cruel.. No matter how nice they might seem, they will always, always hurt you. Flynn Rider is the perfect example of that.

She hurries, her small steps made quick, and continues going as far down as she could go. She knows when she reaches the prisons when the air turns damp, the lights are dimmed, and the floor is hard. She hates the way the floor feels under her feet.

She turns the corner and immediately sees two guards hovering over the door to the prison cells, playing cards with each other. Rapunzel hisses quietly — she needs to get in there, and thanks to her stupidity, she won’t be able to. There is no way for her to come up with a good enough excuse for them to let her in.

It seems like Rapunzel will just have to wait for them to actually let the thief out. She finds a nook to hide in for now, closes her eyes, and waits.

It comes a few hours later.

Rapunzel wakes to the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, and tries to make herself as small as possible, bunching up her hair and holding it tight against her chest. She watches as another, more official-looking guard comes in, causing the two other guards to jump in fright.

The large guard glares at his subordinates. “You should not be fooling around,” he grits out, but then shakes his head. “It’s time.”

“Yes, Captain, sorry, Captain,” they chorus, nodding sheepishly. The guard on the right provides the key with a flourish, and unlocks the door for the large man.

Rapunzel can’t see very well, so she takes a risk, leaning forward a bit. Her heart is pounding rapidly in her chest, but it is all for nought, as the Captain and both the guards disappear into the prison.

She frowns, disappointed, but quickly reassures herself. She does not need to see what occurs here; as long as the guards come back through this entrance, she will be able to follow Flynn Rider.

To her great relief, they do.

And for the first time, Rapunzel sees Flynn Rider in chains.

Her breath catches. He looks so much thinner than she saw him last, his cheeks more gaunt. Rapunzel feels a flash of sympathy, but quickly stomps it down until it’s nothing. She cannot have sympathy for this man.

And that sympathy turns rapidly into anger as she sees the visible hope in his eyes.

Rapunzel seethes. Of course; she knew it. Flynn Rider only cares about himself. He’s not worried about anything except the fact that he becomes a free man today. Typical.

The guards following Flynn Rider cast him wary looks from time to time as they march with a purpose. The Captain, Rapunzel notes with pleasure, is upset with this arrangement as well, glaring at the thief with as much force as he can.

But Flynn Rider is oblivious to it all, his eyes set on the stairs out of the prison, his hope morphing into determination. Rapunzel makes herself as small as can be as they pass, and nobody even realizes she’s there.

She creeps silently and follows them, managing to keep herself hidden. When they reach open areas, Rapunzel finds a way to blend in with the other staff, who have also paused to stop and stare at the prisoner.

She does not say a word, but she follows.

The guards and the thief suddenly reach their destination — a large room with big doors. The Captain takes a breath and knocks thrice sharply, before the doors open and he and the others head inside.

Rapunzel can see inside for the whole of one second before the door is shut in her face.

She expels a frustrated sigh, clenching her fists. Why is everything made so difficult for her? It makes her want to scream and shout and yell, but she cannot do anything of the sort. Instead, she sucks in a breath and puts her ear to the door, hoping she can overhear what they’re discussing.

She hears two foreign voices — the King and Queen, she realizes with a start — plus the voices of the Captain and the guards. Flynn Rider, for the time being, is entirely silent. Rapunzel listens as hard as she can, but it certainly is difficult. The doors are thick.

She hears a deep baritone voice; the voice that belongs to the King. “We have checked your sources…” he starts to say, but she cannot hear much further.

The Queen speaks, and she strains to hear what she has to say: “we’ll do…best,” she hears.

Someone taps Rapunzel on the shoulder. It’s a young girl who looks to be about Rapunzel’s age, with a toned body and short, black hair. “What do you think you’re doing?” She asks crossly.

Rapunzel looks down, unsure of what to say. “Um,” she says, stalling.

“Never mind,” the other girl says. “I know what you’re doing. Stop eavesdropping on important conversation and get to work. This doesn’t concern you.”

She soon disappears, and Rapunzel huffs. That girl has entirely wasted her time. She leans against the door once more, straining her ears to hear as much as she can. How much of the conversation has she missed?

She cannot hear anything much for a bit, but then she hears Flynn Rider’s voice. It is just as familiar as she remembers it, and the thought scares her.

She only hears one word, but it’s enough.

“…Rapunzel,” the thief utters, the word coming out of her mouth, and Rapunzel goes shock-still.

Flynn Rider is trying to find her.

There’s a lot to process with this statement, and Rapunzel takes a few, stumbling steps back, reeling. Her heart is pounding. She is starting to connect the dots, but she’s not liking what she’s realizing.

Flynn Rider told the King and Queen about her, and so probably about her magic hair. He knows where she lives, he can bring the royals and the guards to her tower. The secret she and her mother had tried so hard to protect will come crashing down, like the walls of her tower.

In exchange for information that will enrich the country, Flynn Rider will go free.

Rapunzel thought she knew betrayal, knew the way it felt, settling deep in her bones. But that is a lie. This is real betrayal; cold settles on her shoulders and her breath comes in short, quick, rasping gasps.

If she had any lingering trust in the thief, it disappears now. She feels dizzy, faint. All her secrets are laid bare, and she has nothing — nothing — that’s left for herself.

She needs to go back to the tower. She needs to find her mother, and tell her what’s going on. It’s not safe for them to stay in the tower, not anymore. They need to get out. They need to move, and they need to do it fast.

She is itching for revenge, itching to feel Flynn Rider’s warm blood rush over her fingers, but she needs to protect herself and her mother first. Rapunzel takes one step back, then another, and then she is flying down the hallway.

But it’s too late.

“Rapunzel!”

She turns around and comes face-to-face with Flynn Rider, the Coronian guards, and the King and Queen, who are standing still like stone. The Queen looks faint, but Rapunzel cannot focus on it right now.

Flynn Rider is slowly walking towards her, hands outstretched. “Blondie, you’re okay!”

She takes the knife out of her pocket. Her hands are trembling, but she forces them to stay still. “Stay — stay back,” she says, her voice hard. She meets the thief’s gaze, which is filled with surprise and confusion and, somehow, hurt. “Get away. I trusted you!”

“Rapunzel—”

The thief takes another step forward.

Rapunzel bolts.

Chapter Text

Rapunzel doesn’t really have a clear image in mind of where she’s supposed to go. There’s nowhere safe to go for miles around. The tower is ages away, and her mother isn’t even home yet.

Her mother…

Despite the burning in her legs and the pounding of her heart, Rapunzel pushes herself further, doing her best to outrun anyone who is following her.

She needs to get back home and find her mother. She needs to warn her mother about this as soon as she could.

Rapunzel blinks back tears, using a hand to wipe her face dry.

She is a fool. She had believed that since those days of rebellion were behind her, they would be gone for good. She had thought that if she didn’t think about it, everything would be alright. But it isn’t. She is betrayed, again, and she can’t hide how much it hurt her.

She had thought Flynn Rider was done hurting her, but there is always another way to hurt.

Rapunzel goes flying forward suddenly as she trips over a small rock. She lands hard on the ground on her knees, and shakily props herself up. Blood blooms from the small, open wound, and Rapunzel can only stare at it.

She has never really bled before. At home, she was always safe, always protected. There was no need for her to be hurt. But out here, in the world, there are endless opportunities to be injured.

Rapunzel touches the open wound with her pointer finger. She stares at the blood for a moment before wiping it on her dirty dress, staining it red.

“Over here!”

She hears shoutings and rustling — the sounds of men on horses. Guards on horses. Palace soldiers who are doing their best to track her down and forcibly bring her back to the castle. Kidnappers and thieves, as her mother always says.

Rapunzel is tired. So, so tired. But she knows she cannot stop now. No, she has to keep moving forward.

She takes a step, and immediately, her legs feel as if they are going to buckle underneath her own weight.

Rapunzel lets herself slowly sit down, the grass tickling her bare feet, muddy and bruised and hard. She needs to think logically. It may not be her strong suit — nothing really is; she’s nothing compared to how perfect her mother is — but she has to try. So Rapunzel closes her eyes and blocks out the world.

The guards saw her flee. They saw what direction she was heading in, and they can only assume she’s still running there now. So the smart thing would be to hide and stay in one place, somewhere she can’t be caught, until tomorrow, when they call off the search. Then, she can continue her way back home.

She takes a deep breath and steadies her nerves. Her hand goes instinctively to her pocket, the weight of the cool dagger calming her down more than any deep breathing could.

Right now, Rapunzel’s priority is to get to her mother and inform her as soon as possible. But her long-term goal has not changed. She wants to kill Flynn Rider. That sentiment will not, and will never, change.

First, she needs to find some shelter.

Rapunzel looks around for a place she can hide. Everywhere she looks, all she can see is more and more trees. The forest looms around her, and she feels impossibly small. She can’t tell which path is more likely to have soldiers in, and which paths would be easier to hide in.

Slowly, she makes her way to a cluster of trees. It’s so cramped and damp in this area of the woods that it’s unlikely for guards or anyone in general to find her, she reasons. Rapunzel knows she’s just trying her best to justify her reasoning, but it makes enough sense for her to trust in it.

Rapunzel unties her hair, letting it flow in loose waves around her. She relishes in feeling her hair free before pushing it all together, creating a makeshift pillow. It has been a warm day, and she’s sure it won’t get that much cooler at night.

She closes her eyes, but sleep is stubborn, and refuses to come. Rapunzel stays awake for the sunset and deep into the night. The wildlife is awake and chipper, and the new sounds scare her. It’s not until the moon is high in the sky and the animals are mostly all asleep until Rapunzel finally is able to go to sleep. It’s the moon that really saves her this time. The moonlight is the same color as her mother’s eyes.

Her mother stands before her, eyes creased with anger and frustration. “Haven’t I told you so many times about the dangers of the outside world?”

Rapunzel opens her mouth to answer, but she cannot speak. She mouths the words, but not a single word escapes her. She begins to panic, grabbing at her throat, frantically signaling to her mother that something is wrong—

“I’ve told you, Rapunzel, that you shouldn’t go outside,” says her mother, slowly advancing. She pays no attention to Rapunzel’s hand movements and impromptu sign language. “You tried to disobey me before, and what happened? You befriended a manipulative thief and almost got yourself sold.” She shakes her head disappointingly, but her mouth twists into a smile.

It grows and grows and grows and grows—

“Mother knows best,” she says, and for some reason, the words send a shiver down Rapunzel’s spine. Her mother does not stop moving, but keeps advancing.

She tries to take a step back, but finds she cannot move. Rapunzel’s body is frozen, and she cannot help but watch as her mother inches forward and forward, a ghastly smile laid permanently on her lips.

“You should have listened to mother,” she says, right up in her face. She caresses Rapunzel’s hair, her eyes taking on an unholy gleam. 

Her mother lunges, a silver knife shining in her hand. Her eyes do not change from that color of moonlight as she reaches for Rapunzel’s throat, hands shaped into claws—

Rapunzel jolts awake.

Her breathing is heavy and her heart is pounding quickly. She can feel each beat of her heart, and the only thing that calms her down is hearing the birds chirp in the early morning hours. The sun may be barely awake, but not her.

Slowly, Rapunzel touches her neck, feeling for blood and scabs. She finds neither, and heaves a sigh of relief, before turning her attention back to her dream.

She hasn’t had a nightmare in months, and like the others, this one makes no sense. Her mother, her enemy? Her mother, her murderer? No.

But for some reason, looking up at the sky and not seeing the moon brings Rapunzel great relief right now.

She gets to her feet, stretching with a sigh. Rapunzel itches to move around and start cleaning, but it isn’t even close to 7am yet, and she’s not at home.

But speaking of which, she needs to start moving.

Rapunzel heads out of the woods after cautiously poking her head forward to make sure the coast is clear. She sees no one and, after a quick pause, hears nothing. So far, so good, and so she begins her walk.

It’s a tiring thing, to be sure, walking so much. Her feet are bruised and hurting after just the first hour, but she cannot stop. Rapunzel steadily moves on, picking up her pace a little. Her stomach growls in protest, but she cannot afford to make a break. She does not know where the guards have ben and whether they’ve warned the people about a girl with long, blonde hair.

It takes her the entire day to do it, but Rapunzel makes it back home.

Seeing the tower fills her with great relief. Not caring about the consequences, and knowing she was going to get severely lectured by her mother, she runs to the base of the tower and shouts her mother’s name.

Rapunzel waits expectantly for a response.

And waits. And waits. And waits.

She frowns. It seems as though her mother is not home yet, but that’s fine — better, even. That means she has some time to figure out what to say to her mother when she does, inevitably, come back home.

The one downside to this is that there’s no one to help her inside. Rapunzel doesn’t even need to make some calculations to know there’s no way for her to throw her hair up to the top of the tower and climb up that way. No, she’ll need to find another way.

And then an idea strikes.

With a steady resolve, Rapunzel tosses her hair around the base of the tower, holding it tight in her grip with both hands. Using her hair, she slowly inches her way up the tower.

Don’t look down, she chants silently to herself, beads of sweat pouring down her head. Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down.

Slowly but surely, she makes it too the top. Once she is safely inside, she breathes a sigh of relief. Thankfully, she is safe.

That’s when she notices.

Something is wrong here. She tilts her head, trying to figure out what it is. Rapunzel cannot tell for certain, but she knows something is off, not right.

A shadow moves.

Rapunzel’s eyes widen, but before she can say anything, a hand grabs her from behind and a cloth goes under her nose. It smells of lavender, and something else, something she can’t quite place, but warm and familiar—

Rapunzel passes out.

Chapter Text

It’s been a rough night.

Eugene traces his wrists, where he can still feel a phantom chain wrapped tight around it. His skin is tender still, and he has to be careful whenever he moves, in fear of tearing his skin open. He’s bled quite a bit lately, especially now, but he has bigger things to worry about.

For instance: the sleeping girl inside a locked travel tent.

It wasn’t his idea — kidnapping Rapunzel is something he had vehemently protested against, but no one ever listens to a former thief. The Captain insisted, and everyone followed his orders, no matter how much Eugene argued against it.

No one listened to him in the beginning, either, until they saw the tower for themselves. Then, Eugene remembers with some satisfaction, they began to believe he wasn’t lying about the whole thing.

Eugene takes in a deep breath and takes another glance at the sleeping tent, where the love of his life peacefully resides, and tries to understand everything that’s been going on.

Rapunzel’s actions have been confusing him. First she didn’t trust him, which is understandable. Next she’s friends with him, and then she loves him, and so does he. Then… she backs away, she’s aloof, she doesn’t want to be around him. No — that’s not it, not entirely.

Rapunzel hates him.

She hates him, and he can’t understand why.

Surely, she did not believe he abandoned her on his own? Surely, someone from the Snuggly Duckling or her mother would inform her that he would not leave her? Would not abandon her? Would fight for her all of his life?

And Eugene can’t help but feel a stab of pain at the thought that she just didn’t trust him enough to stay. That she believed he would just up and leave her, just like that. Yes, she didn’t know him that well, but why didn’t she trust him enough to stay?

Eugene swallows thickly at the direction his inner monologue has been going. He roughly pushes that thought down; he doesn’t have time to think about it right now. His priority is ensuring that Rapunzel is safe.

“Rider,” barked a voice, and Eugene’s face snaps up.

It’s the lady — the one who insisted on traveling with them. She wore a handmaid’s outfit, but now dons the armor of a soldier. That makes sense, considering her heritage. She is the daughter of the Captain, after all.

He conceals his grimace. Lady Cassandra is just as pleasant as the Captain is, as well.

“What is it?” He asks her, eyes narrowed. He looks at the bowl she’s carrying next to her and groans. “If you’re here to try and stab me with a broken porcelain bowl again, I’m afraid I’m too busy to indulge you.”

“As if,” she scoffs, “I would never ‘try.’ It would be successful. But no, that’s not what I’m here for. I need you to go in and tend to Pete’s wounds.”

He lets out a much louder groan. “Pete only has a papercut,” he says testily. “He doesn’t need a nanny.”

“Too bad, Rider. Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before becoming a criminal,” she says, promptly dropping the porcelain bowl into Eugene’s unwilling arms. It’s filled with water, and he looks up.

She throws a towel in his face.

“You’ll need to wake him up by dumping this on him,” she tells him, a little smirk on her face. “And I know he’s not going to like it. Get ready to be soaked, Pretty-Boy. Have fun!”

With that, she walks away, and Eugene is left staring at her back.

“Oh, that devil-lady is evil,” he mutters to himself before grudgingly getting to his feet. He stares at Pete’s tent, as if he could simply wish it away, but it doesn’t budge.

Resigned to his fate, Eugene walks towards Pete’s cabin, where everything smells of garlic for some reason and the guard’s snores could wake the dead. He promptly dumps the bowl of water all over Pete’s face and watches him splutter angrily for a few seconds.

His mouth is moving, something along the lines of: “how dare you” and “this is my favorite white shirt” and “I knew you looked like the kind of person who licks toes” before something else distracts him.

Eugene hears a feminine voice shouting, and the sound of fighting outside. There’s only one thing that could cause that kind of racket, and it's precisely the person he is longing to see.

Without a care, Eugene drops the bowl onto Pete’s foot and runs out of his tent, only to face eye-to-eye with his Sunshine.

“Rapunzel,” he says with relief, “you’re awake!”

“It was you,” she accuses, her voice hard. “You drugged me!” Her hand goes into her pocket, and once she realizes she no longer has her knife, her eyes narrow into pits. “And you stole from me, too. Truly,” she drawls, “your thoughtfulness and generosity knows no bounds.”

Eugene is struck reeling by the cruelty in her words, the bitterness in how she speaks. Gone is the naive, kind girl who believed in the world and the people in it — in her place stands a cynical woman with nerves of steel. He sees this change in her, and he doesn’t like it.

Again, he asks himself: what happened?

“Rapunzel, I didn’t have much of a choice,” he says helplessly. “Believe me, I didn’t want to do this, either, but—”

“Look,” Cassandra says, butting in. Rapunzel bristles at her matter-of-fact tone, but her eyes widen in recognition. Does she recognize her? “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’ve no right to run from the law. We have orders to bring you back to the palace immediately.”

“No,” Rapunzel says, backing away. “There is no way you can force me to go back there. And — where’s Mother?” She asks frantically, desperately. She meets Eugene’s eyes. “What happened to Mother?”

“Your mom is fine,” says Eugene reassuringly, glad to finally be of some assistance. “She wasn’t even home when we got there.”

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to calm Rapunzel down. She scoffs instead. “Brilliant, so you made her believe I ran away?”

“Didn’t you?” He asks, surprised. He thought that was the reason he saw her in the palace after all that was only two days ago.

She glares at him. “I had a mission to accomplish,” she says, her voice clear and strong as steel. “And it’s still not complete yet.”

“Let me help, then,” Eugene says immediately. “I’ll do anything for you, Sunshine. Anything,” he stresses.

She lets out another scoff, but this one is more wobbly and unsure. “As if I can trust anything you say again.”

Before Eugene could fully process what that means, Cassandra interrupts again, clearly not enjoying being left out of a conversation she doesn’t understand. “It doesn’t really matter what you want,” she says. “The King and Queen want you back in the palace, so that’s where you’re going. The end.”

“You’ll have to drag me back,” Rapunzel says defiantly, “kicking and screaming. I’m not going anywhere until my job is done.”

“Your job…” muses Eugene. “It’s the same reason why you left earlier, isn’t it? You have a new dream?” He smiles hopefully at Rapunzel, hoping the mention of her wish to see the lanterns on her birthday would stimulate some kind of response.

His wish was granted, though not in the way he hoped. Rapunzel doesn’t react positively, but negatively, staring daggers at Eugene.

“That’s right. I’ve grown since then,” she says in a clipped tone of voice. “Mother knows best,” she says softer, as if it’s a mantra that she’s clinging to as a lifeline.

How does her mother even factor into this?

Her gaze snaps back at Eugene. “Where’s Pascal?” She demands.

“We had to separate you and the frog,” says Eugene apologetically. “He’s caged right now—”

“—and no, we’re not telling you where,” Cassandra butts in, glaring. “And we’re not going to tell you until we’re sure you can behave yourself, you understand? So if you want to see your pet again, you’re going to come with us. To the palace.”

Rapunzel laughs in her face; a feat that only seems to further enrage Cassandra. “Your plan is a joke,” she says. “My mother will track us down before you make any headway, and believe me, you’re not going to like it when she does.”

Cassandra scoffs. “Your mother can’t do anything about this. I am a fully trained soldier—”

“—and my mother managed to track down this kingdom’s most notorious thief in three days, whereas the soldiers couldn’t do it at all,” Rapunzel interrupts. “Do you really think you can stop her?”

“What is your deal?” Cassandra finally bursts out, crossing her arms and glaring at the barefooted girl. “What has possibly gone wrong to rile you up so much? For God’s sake, you’re meeting the king and queen! Who would turn down an audience with royalty? Why are you so goddamn angry?”

Rapunzel’s face doesn’t give anything away. She makes eye contact with Cassandra and holds it for a few moments, before turning to face Eugene. Slowly, creepily, her mouth stretches into a smile — but it’s wrong, twisted, and nothing like how it should be.

“Because of him,” she hisses, and that’s when she lunges, the knife glistening in her hand.

His first thought: how did she manage to get the knife back, and without either of them noticing?

His second: knife!

Rapunzel lunges at Eugene with full speed, and her smile only grows larger and wilder as she makes a stabbing motion towards his heart. Eugene, knowing that there’s no time for him to dodge, raises up his arm instead, and the full force of the knife slashes against his right forearm.

It’s a deep wound, and the bleeding is heavy. Eugene blinks at it, trying to process it, and barely notices Cassandra stealing the knife away and restraining Rapunzel. He can hear her call for backup, but it’s distant, as if she’s in another room.

He snaps out of it in time to see Rapunzel being dragged away, her eyes wild and her body thrashing around as she fights off the guards. The scariest of it all is that she maintains eye contact with him, and a burning hatred and rage is extremely visible and conveyed through her whole body language.

Eugene breaks eye contact and looks down at his wound, which is still gushing blood, and then up at Cassandra, whose face is unmoving.

“Well,” she says grimly, “it looks like we have a problem.”

Chapter Text

Cassandra grips Eugene’s left elbow, carefully avoiding the right side of his body. “You’re losing blood quickly,” she notes, a hint of panic coming through her voice. “I think the crazy girl managed to cut a major blood vessel.”

“She isn’t crazy,” Eugene manages to say, but everything is distant and foggy and far away. “She’s just — not doing well right now.”

“Uh-huh,” says the girl skeptically, and leads Eugene to the medical tent. “We can focus on that later. Right now, we need to bandage this wound.”

The gentle care in her voice astounds him, and he blinks rapidly. “Wow,” he says, “who knew that all I needed to do for you to like me was to get stabbed?”

She scowls at him. “This isn’t funny.”

Eugene opens his mouth to make a retort but closes it once he feels nauseous. He then fully concentrates on not throwing up on Cassandra, and stares at a tree to ignore the nausea.

Thankfully, the medical tent isn’t that far away, and Cassandra sits him down on a chair while she goes to look for some bandages. She disappears from his line of sight for a bit, but she isn’t gone for long, and soon returns with rolls of bandages and disinfectants.

“This is going to hurt,” is the only thing she announces, before pouring the bottle of disinfectant all over his stab wound.

Eugene hisses in pain — “hurt” does not even begin to describe it. It stings in the way he gets a paper cut, but so much worse. His instinctual response is to jerk his arm away, but he does his best to keep it still.

Soon enough, she puts away the disinfectant and begins to bandage his wounds, the blood soaking through immediately. Cassandra frowns before wrapping even more around it, until it feels like a thick shield is trapped onto his arm.

“It’ll have to be replaced every few hours,” she tells him after a few minutes of silence.

“Okay.”

The silence reigns on for a few moments longer before it’s broken by Cassandra, who’s putting away the medical things. “Why did she do that?” She asks him, deliberately not making eye contact. “Why did she — attack you like that? If she’s not crazy, what made her do it?”

It’s the same question Eugene has been asking himself, but he doesn’t have an answer.

“I don’t know.”

His voice sounds meek and scared, even to his own ears, and Eugene flinches away at it. He can’t bring up his mask, his facade that everything is alright right now. He can’t, for some reason, fake his confidence and his humor right now. No, he’s vulnerable and scared and defenseless.

The change in tone surprises Cassandra too, as she looks up for a split second before fiddling with the medical supplies once again.

“Okay, Lover Boy,” she says.

Eugene lets out a snort. “Do me the dignity of at least using my name instead of these stupid monikers,” he says, rolling his eyes. It’s his attempt of returning to normalcy, and thankfully, she seems to understand, complying with a slight scowl.

“No. Your name is stupid.”

“Hey! It’s really not,” protests Eugene, slightly offended. It’s the nickname he chose for himself, one based on a fond memory. Besides, it’s a cool name.

She rolls her eyes at him. “If you’re feeling well enough to keep up this ridiculous banter, then get out.”

He stands, stretching his arm slightly, testing out the pressure. It hurts, and he winces. Of course the stab wound is still going to be sore. The bandage isn’t tight enough around his arm that he thinks he’s going to be numb, so being sore is the only viable option.

“Oh, by the way, did you wake Pete?”

He almost forgot he did that and smiles. Man, Pete is probably pissed at him, but that makes it better.

“Yep,” he says casually, popping the ‘p,’ before strolling out the door.

To his immense surprise — and wariness, too, once he knows who’s standing outside the medical tent — the Captain is waiting for him.

“Rider,” he says tersely in greeting.

How wonderful and eloquent the Captain’s words are. Truly, it’s enough to revitalize the dictionary.

“Hey, Captain,” Eugene says, pushing a note of cheeriness through his throat. “Lovely seeing you here, but Cassandra wants me to go wake up Pete, so—”

“Nice try. Pete’s already up, and squabbling with Stan. It wouldn’t matter either way; I need to talk to you, Rider.”

Boy, he does not look thrilled with this turn of events, but then again, neither does Eugene.

“Why?”

The Captain pointedly lowers his gaze to Eugene’s bandaged arm. It has many layers of bandage on it, but the blood is still leaking through. “Why do you think?”

Eugene swallows hard. “Oh.”

The Captain turns his back on Eugene and begins to walk briskly, obviously just expecting him to follow. The audacity would be hilarious, if it wasn’t true. As it is, he lets out a long-suffering sigh before trudging resentfully behind the guard.

He follows until they arrive at the Captain’s own tent, larger and more spacious compared to the rest. Eugene watches as the angered guard thrusts open the tent flaps. “In,” he barks, and keeps an eye on Eugene as he follows instructions.

There’s really no place to sit, or do anything — the tent is stripped bare save for a sleeping roll. So Eugene doesn’t bother asking the Captain where he should go, and simply plops his body down onto the sleeping roll.

The look on the Captain’s face is hilarious.

He still looks disgruntled when he begins to talk, pacing back and forth. He doesn’t say anything about how Eugene’s sitting, which may be because he has better things to do with his time — unlikely — or he’s taking note of Eugene’s raised eyebrow — highly likely.

“We need to talk about that girl’s behavior today,” the Captain begins, intentionally refusing to make eye contact with Eugene. “Whether she’s a Princess or not, her actions were highly…irregular, to say the least. And if her presence wasn’t requested by the King and Queen, she would be imprisoned. It’s only through sheer luck she’s escaping this unscathed.”

He stops, makes eye contact, and drops it. Eugene watches him pace. Why, exactly, did he call him here? It’s not as if he has anything better to add, and besides, the Captain doesn’t trust his judgment calls, either.

“The first thing we need to discuss, Rider, is her hair.” His voice is flat. “She refuses to let anyone near it, and guards it more than her own life. Is this something we can take advantage of?”

The thought makes Eugene sick to his stomach. He had confessed all of this information about Rapunzel to the King and Queen in order to ensure their belief in his story, not to take advantage of his vulnerable girl. Talking about her like this, behind her back, strategizing her pros and cons…well, it doesn’t feel good.

He crosses his arms. “I don’t want to talk about this,” he states.

The Captain snorts. “I don’t really care what you want,” he says, further rising Eugene’s dislike of the man. “It doesn’t matter. If she doesn’t comply further, we’ll need to take more drastic measures. Otherwise, it’ll be very goddamn difficult to make any progress.”

“She’s not just a task,” Eugene protests. “She’s a living, breathing human. And talking about her like this dehumanizes her, don’t you see? I’m not going to hurt her.”

“Tough luck, seeing as she’s plenty pleased with hurting you.”

Eugene jumps to his feet, an angry retort rising to his lips, but he wrestles them shut. He doesn’t want to give the Captain any vulnerability, any advantage over him. The words that come out of his mouth are carefully controlled.

“I’ll give you one thing: if you’re going to be looking for a weakness, go for the mother,” he says, recalling how some things about Rapunzel’s mother don’t really match up. In fact, it’s rather suspicious. If there’s one thing that the Captain can do right, it’s to make Rapunzel’s trust in her mother falter. “But that’s all I’m going to give you. You hear that, Captain? I’m done.”

Without another word, he storms out of the tent.

Eugene is furious. He doesn’t really have any words to say, to make everything make sense. There is one thing that he can comprehend, though, and it’s this: he can’t trust the Captain, therefore, he can’t trust anyone here. Not the soldiers, not the staff, not anyone.

He feels horrible, leading them all to Rapunzel’s safe spot like this. He doesn’t want them to use her. Hell, he doesn’t want them to use him, either. He just wants her to be safe and sound.

So, it seems as if there’s only one thing to do at this point.

He’ll have to steal her away himself.

But the Captain has a point. She, certainly, doesn’t want him to be safe and sound. She wants to cause bodily harm to him. So how is he supposed to essentially kidnap her from her kidnappers without her trying to stab him every five seconds?

Eugene racks his brain for an answer for a few minutes, but he can’t think of any solution to it. Well, he’ll just have to cross that bridge once he gets to it. After all, Flynn Rider is known for rushing headfirst without a plan.

And if there’s one thing Eugene Fitzherbert can do well, it’s behave like Flynn Rider.

Chapter Text

Rapunzel wakes up in the middle of the night and screams.

It doesn’t do much, seeing as there’s a hand tight over her mouth. She struggles and fights back, but her attacker is relentless. She clamps her teeth onto their hand, and though she can feel their whole body wince, they do not let go.

Her attacker’s face comes into view, and immediately, Rapunzel tries harder.

Flynn Rider.

“Look,” he says in a low, strained voice, “there are some things that you need to be aware of, Sunshine. If you stop—” he winced as she began kicking at him— “ fighting me,” he groused, “I can help you get out of here.”

That sentence stopped Rapunzel in her tracks.

He notices, but doesn’t loosen his hand. “You don’t scream the very second I remove my hand, and I’ll tell you what the Captains said to me, okay?” 

It doesn’t seem like a good deal. In fact, she knows it’s not. But it’s the only deal she’ll possibly get at this point. There’s no room for her to bargain.

He eyes Rapunzel warily for a response, and once he gets nothing, he slowly removes his hand.

Rapunzel wrenches away from him in a second, glaring at him. “Do not,” she snarls, “call me nicknames.” He lost that right a long time ago.

Flynn puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright,” he says, “I won’t.”

She crosses her arms. “Tell me how to get out of here.”

“That’s not a part of the deal,” he says with a smirk that makes her want to claw out his eyes. “Look. The Captain wants to take you back to the kingdom, and he doesn’t trust you, especially after… today.”

She looks down at his bandaged arm, with blood still leaking through, and smiles. By the heavens, that had felt good.

“If he manages to get you to the castle, you’ll never be able to leave,” Rider continues, and that sentence ushers pure ice into Rapunzel’s veins.

Mother. She’d never see her mother again. She already needs to go back to find her mother, to get her mother to safety, since the tower’s been compromised. But she might never reach it again, and her mother—

“In that case,” Rapunzel says calmly, and then lunges to the door.

Rider moves with more force than she ever expected from him, and she collides into his chest. She pounds at him, taking especial pleasure at stabbing her nails into his wound, but still, he doesn’t move.

“Listen, I’m not letting you go alone,” he says, strained.

Alone?

Rapunzel stills, and backs away, not wanting to be close to him if she’s not murdering him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She demands.

He looks at her in the eyes. “Let’s make a deal. I know you’re fond of those.”

The sting of betrayal hits her again as she recalls how their last deal went. “And how do I know that you’re going to keep your end of the bargain this time?”

“Because you’ll make sure of it.” He smirks, blood dripping down the side of his arm where Rapunzel pierced open his wound. “I help you escape, go somewhere they’ll never find you. And once we’re far away, you can kill me.”

“No. I have to go back to Mother—”

“You can’t go back,” he says simply. “We can try and track her down, but since the guards know where you live, you can’t go back.”

Yet another thing Flynn Rider had stolen from her, and the thought sends her into a blinding rage.

“Why do you want to help me?” She demands, her mother’s constant refrains echoing in her head. People are evil. They are dark, and mean, and cruel, she croons in Rapunzel’s ears.

“Why do you want to kill me?” He counters.

The pure audacity of his statement, as if Flynn Rider doesn’t well know why she’s so intent on his head on a spike, makes Rapunzel close her hands into fists, her nails digging into her skin. “You know.”

He opens his mouth, as if to question that statement, but instead turns to look outside. “It’s going to be light soon. If we’re going to go, we’ll have to go now .” He looks at her, eyes unreadable. “Do we have a deal?”

She considers it. Rapunzel will never have another chance like this again. She’d find her other and get a chance to murder her betrayer, all at once. True, she’d be stuck in his presence for a while, but she has no qualms about breaking her end of the deal.

There is no way she’ll stick around him. Rapunzel is going to murder him immediately after they leave the camp, and then set out to find her mother on her own.

She has never broken her promises before. But because of him, now she’s broken many. Promises to her mother, promises to him, promises to herself.

The thought solidifies her belief, and so she makes the easy decision — really, the only decision she has.

“Deal,” she lies, and then begins to walk out the door. Her quick promise seems to have stunned Rider, as does her walking out of the tent, and so she seizes this opportunity to grab her knife before waiting right outside the tent, as if she had never gone anywhere.

Flynn Rider had known Rapunzel, but not anymore, she thinks to herself grimly. Certainly not to expect her to steal, to lie, to kill. She hates the person she is around him, but it’s necessary. Once he’s gone, she can go back and live her life in peace, with only her mother by her side.

“Go this way,” he orders, and though one part of Rapunzel is pleading to finally put that knife in his unsuspecting back, the other part of her says, wait.

Wait, because she hasn’t left camp yet. She hasn't escaped yet.

She follows him out of the camp, walks in silence behind him for what seems like half an hour, an hour, an eternity, and waits.

He seems disheartened at the silence, she notes, as that’s one thing that’s quite obviously changed from her time before with him. Her endless chatter to a sudden awkward, hatred-filled silence.

There’s nothing more to say to him, she muses, glaring at his back as he moves purposefully deeper into the forest. She had spoken to the person she trusted. It’s not as if she trusts him anymore.

She walks, and carefully, stealthily, takes the dagger out of her pocket. Rapunzel grips it in her hand, and she smiles at the weight of it. It feels comfortable, resting in her hands.

She repositions her grip, suddenly nervous. She doesn’t know how exactly to kill a man, but it can’t be that hard, right?

Best to do it now, as to not lose her nerve.

Rapunzel quietly walks up to Flynn Rider, close enough until she can breathe his scent in, his smell of what used to be something she trusted and now turned into something she can’t smell without feeling nauseous.

He took everything away from her. Everything.

And on that note, she strikes.

The knife plunges into his back easily. Rapunzel couldn’t believe it was that easy. He lets out a little choked noise, and she wrenches the knife out of his back. It’s bleeding heavily, and he turns to face her.

“Rap—” he manages, before he stumbles and slips, bashing his head onto a rock.

She watches him cooly as his eyes flutter shut, until he’s still.

Rapunzel doesn’t know whether a person is dead or not. It’s not something her mother would’ve really taught her. She pokes him with her foot, and immediately regrets it, as his blood gets onto her toe. Still, he doesn’t move.

Well, if she poked him and he didn’t move, he must be dead, right?

Rapunzel doesn’t have time to wait around and be sure. So she pockets the knife, takes one minute to revel in her feeling of victory, and then flees into the night.

Chapter Text

Eugene wakes up to pain.

Everything hurts, he hurts, and he doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why they’re so angry at him this time. What did he do? What did he do wrong?

Someone presses a cold rag to his forehead, and he lets out a gasp of surprise. The hand above his stills — who is it? It has to be Arnwaldo. That’s the only friend he has here in this godforsaken place.

“Go back to sleep,” a voice says, still wiping his forehead, and it doesn’t sound like his best friend, but there’s really no other option here.

“Please,” Eugene croaks out, all of his faux-bravery gone in this moment of pain, “please. What did I do this time? What did I do,” he gasps as a wave of pain hits him, “what did I do this badly this time?”

The hand stills, but Eugene doesn’t want him to stop, he wants Arnwaldo to fucking answer him , answer him so he knows what he can do to avoid this time. “Did she find my stack of hidden food under the bed? Did I — please,” he begs, hating how weak and pleading his voice is, “please, tell me what I did this time to get her so angry.”

He’s tearing up, Eugene can feel the tears streaming down his face, but there’s no response. “I want out,” he whimpers finally after some silence, “we need to get out. We need out of this fucking hell. We’ll escape this fucking orphanage and become world-wide musicians, or something, Arnwaldo, but — we need — we need out.”

No response.

“Can you hear me?” He finally demands, and then lets out another cry of pain as his friend begins to unwrap something — bandages, he guesses. He knows it’s necessary to change them out, but it hurts. God, it hurts.

“I know,” Arnwaldo finally responses, and Eugene didn’t realize he was speaking aloud until just then. “It won’t hurt for long, Rider.”

“‘M not Rider,” Eugene says drowsily, “I’m Eugene,” and then he passes out from the pain.

~~~~~

The next time Eugene awakes is to the sounds of birdsong, and an itchy sensation on his nose. He slowly opens his eyes, yawning all the while, and notices it’s a bee.

He yelps, swatting at it, and barely stops himself from getting stung before the bee goes away. Eugene is mildly offended — he’s not a flower. That was simply rude.

The second and third things he notices are the bandages wrapped around his torso, and his raging headache, in that order. Man. What happened to him?

Eugene recalls what had happened with Rapunzel and swears.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” says a dry voice, and Eugene turns to see Cassandra approaching him, logs of wood in her hands.

His voice is dry, raspy. “Cassandra? What are you doing here?”

“Rescuing you from death,” she snarks at him, dropping the logs of wood onto the ground. “I was out exercising a few days ago early morning to find you, bleeding out on the ground, and the princess gone. Care to explain that, Rider?”

“Um,” he stalls, flashes of the Captain’s words passing through his mind. After knowing how the Captain seems to treat Rapunzel, he distrusts that Cassandra would be any different. “I don’t know.”

The best thing is always to resort to amnesia.

Cassandra does not look amused at all. “You ‘don’t know,’” she says, air quoting him with an eyebrow cocked and a dead expression. “You sure about that, Rider? Or should I call you Eugene?”

Eugene stares at the girl in front of him numbly. ‘How’ repeats softly in his mind over and over again. The only person who knows that Flynn Rider is the same person as Eugene Fitzherbert is Rapunzel, and she’s not around to tell Cassandra about it.

“You were kind of out of it when I was tending to you,” the girl says, beginning to set up a fire. “Learned lots.”

Panic begins to settle in. “What did I do?” He demands, bolting upright in the bed, ignoring as the pain seeps through his entire body.

All humor vanishes from her expression, and she turns her face away, as if closing up. Bad timing, he shouts frantically to her in his head, tell me! For once in my entire life, I actually want to hear you speak!

“That’s what you said then, too,” she says cryptically, before abruptly changing the subject. “But we’ve more pressing concerns right now. Where’d the princess go?”

“If I answer that, are you going to take her back against her will? Use her, manipulate her?”

Cassandra sighs. “I’m not evil, Rider — don’t give me that look. I want her back to the palace, obviously, but I won’t keep her there forever. Just to confirm whether she’s the princess or not. If she’s not, then she can go. So? Where would she go?”

Eugene waits for a few moments, deciding whether he could trust her answer. But there’s not much choice, and so he reluctantly responds in the face of her unrelenting stare, “the only place I can really imagine her going is back to the tower.”

Cassandra’s expression morphs into confusion and then understanding. “Back to her mother?” She guesses, and Eugene can only nod. “Well… let’s go, then.”

He blinks at the other woman in astonishment. “What, you’re not going to go back to camp and tell your dad?”

“No,” she answers matter-of-factly. “He’ll only stop me and coddle me, like he’s done this entire trip.” The irritation in her voice is evident. “So we’re doing this without him, Wonder Boy.”

Well, it’s not as if Eugene is going to complain.

“Alright,” he said, propelling himself to his feet, and watching alarmingly as he began to sway, hit by a wave of dizziness.

“Woah, slow down there, buddy. You’ve a mild concussion, and your torso still isn’t doing too good right now.”

His torso?

Oh, right. Rapunzel had (literally) stabbed him in the back.

“We’re losing time,” he argued. “We can’t afford to wait around for me to get better. That might take months.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Boys. So willing to damage their pea-sized brains even more.” she grumbled to herself. “Alright, fine. It’s your funeral.”

She stood, about to leave, before turning to face him with a serious expression. “That girl has tried to murder you twice now. She might be facing murder charges if she’s not the princess.”

“Not at all necessary, I swear—”

“It might not be up to you,” she says darkly, ominously. “But that’s beside the point. Right now: are you sure it’s safe for you to go after her, seeing as she certainly doesn’t want to see you?”

Eugene thinks back to the Rapunzel he knows, the one with a big dream and an even bigger heart. The girl who loves him, who he loves, who views the world with hope and optimism and love.

“It doesn’t matter,” he says firmly. “I’m going to find her, whether she wants to kill me or not.”

It isn’t all selflessness, either. In his heart, Eugene wants to know why she hates him so. Why before he was imprisoned, she loved him, and now, wants to murder him.

For once, Cassandra doesn’t question him. She simply nods, brushing the dirt off her guard uniform.

“I’m going to get a fire going for breakfast. Then we’ll hit the road. I’ve got two horses, ready to go.” Without waiting for a response, she left, leaving Eugene alone with his thoughts.

Rapunzel…

God, he feels like a broken record, simply repeating her name over and over again. His thoughts are consumed of her, of her every being, and at times like these, he feels self-destructive, masochist.

He can’t stop thinking about the destructive rage in her eyes. Not the cool shade of vengeance, but the anger and hatred of revenge. She feels wronged by him, somehow, but Eugene doesn’t know what he did wrong. What he’s doing wrong.

His world feels off-kilter.

At least he’ll have answers soon. Soon, with the help of the lovely she-devil, he’ll be able to track down his love, his Sunshine, and press her for answers. He’ll find out the truth.

Eugene will finally know what happened to the love of his life.

Chapter Text

Rapunzel is alone.

For once in her life, she is truly, utterly alone.

Even in her years of isolation inside the tower, she’s never truly been by herself before. Mother had always come back to her, every evening, usually. Besides, she had Pascal then — her best friend, still back at the camp when she fled. She feels a pang of regret and guilt, before brushing it away. It isn’t her fault she was forced to leave her chameleon friend behind. Besides, he’ll be safer that way.

No Pascal, no Mother. Just Rapunzel, alone with her thoughts.

She blindly makes her way back to the tower; it’s her first instinct. She wasn’t even thinking about it at first, she simply followed her feet. But when she arrives, the tower is empty, things ripped apart.

She wishes she left a note for her mother not to worry, that she had learnt her lesson the first time and isn’t seeking out trouble, but rather exterminating the reason for the trouble. But it’s too late now; it’s not as if Rapunzel can travel back in time.

Her mother is nowhere to be found, and an urge of panic sweeps Rapunzel so suddenly it catches her off-guard. This tower, her home, is compromised. How could she possibly have forgotten? It isn’t safe here anymore, now that Flynn Rider revealed its location.

She needs to leave.

Rapunzel takes in a deep breath, looks around the only home she’s ever known. She’ll miss this place. She won’t be back for a while, maybe never, once she finds her mother. So she takes her time leaving, going through the rooms of her home one last time.

Then, she takes her hair and descends from the tower once more.

Rapunzel takes a moment to tie it back — she loves her hair, and the magical properties that it possesses, but it keeps getting caught on things. She’ll let it down when she needs it, but for now, best to keep it away.

Standing here, at the base of her tower, Rapunzel looks around. She has no idea of where to go from here, and she stifles the urge to plop herself to the ground and have a nice, long cry.

She needs somewhere to go, but there’s no one she can rely on…

The thought hits her.

The Snuggly Duckling.

If there’s one place where she know she still has friends, it’s that one. And besides, the people there weren’t exactly a fan of Flynn Rider, so she would be safe from him there.

Without him, though, will she even remember how to get there? She wasn’t paying much attention the first time, so excited about the things around her that she didn’t notice where he was taking her. Could she retrace her steps well enough?

It isn’t as if she has much of a choice.

Rapunzel takes off, leaving her home (again). This time, she is keenly aware of her environment and surroundings, not that it helps. Her eyes keep moving towards things that only cause her pain.

That tree was the one she swung on like a ride, in the moments of high euphoria while Rider simply watched her, an annoyed look on his face that would soften with time. (She didn’t know to be wary of his gaze; it’s so ironic that she loved his features at one point.)

That was the lake she sobbed in, wanting to go home but also desperately wanting to stay, where Rider gave her some space to cry. (She wishes she chose to go back home, and avoid the ensuing disaster.)

That was the bush where she jumped on Rider, thinking a monster would come out when a bunny hopped out, instead. (She didn’t know the man she held onto for protection was the real monster instead.)

Onwards and onwards, Rapunzel is hit by emotion by emotion, memory by memory. It’s so much, too much, and she can barely handle it by herself, without someone to distract her. When she sees the sign for the Snuggly Duckling (ignoring Rider’s voice in her head that’s laughing, telling her about the kindness of the people inside), she nearly cries with relief and sprints to the door.

It opens before she even gets there, and instantly, someone rams into her and envelops her into a hug. Rapunzel sags into the embrace; she missed this. She looks up and sees Hook Hand, smiling down at her gently.

“Hey there,” he says, and she starts to cry.

She can tell he’s bemused, but he doesn’t do anything much to stop her. He simply holds her tighter and strokes her hair with his one hand, patting her back with a rhythmic motion until she begins to calm down.

“What happened to you?” He asks, a sad look in his eyes, and Rapunzel resists the urge to cry again.

“Rider,” she whispers to him, the word tearing itself out of her mouth with a painful gasp. She buries herself into his embrace again to avoid seeing his face, but his grips on her tightens for a moment, and it is slightly painful and awkward, so she pulls away.

“Come inside,” he says. “You can tell us all about it in a bit. For now, let’s get you something to eat — I know for a fact that everyone’s missed you.”

And so she does.

Rapunzel follows Hook Hand inside, who slams the door open and hollers, “Rapunzel is back!” Instantly, everyone’s eyes land on hers, and though there are a few unrecognizable faces, the entire place erupts into cheers.

She’s pushed gently into a seat. Attila pushes some food in front of her and she eats hungrily. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until now, and she quickly polishes off her meal. Attila puts a cupcake in front of her, and Rapunzel smiles at him. He waves to her shyly, then backs away.

“Did you see the lanterns?” Vladimir asks her eagerly, the first thing he says, before even ‘hello.’

The lanterns. She feels so many conflicting emotions about them, but for now, she pushes the bad away with a smile. Rapunzel doesn’t want to ruin the mood, not when they’re so happy to see her. “I did!”

“And? How were they?”

“They were…” Rapunzel paused, remembering. “Magical,” she says, and it was. It truly was. Everything after ended up being a disaster, but the boat ride itself is probably the happiest moment of her life. Even if she hates Rider for stealing that from her, too.

Big Nose approaches her eagerly. “And what about Rider? He behave himself?”

She sees Hook Hand roughly shove Big Nose for asking that question, and it is kind of him to do so, but Rapunzel’s mood is now spoiled. Her smile falls. “He… well. He betrayed me.”

Instant outrage. Rapunzel tries not to smile, but the fact that she says three small words and instantly, people are angry on her behalf is… nice. It makes her feel nice. Wanted, maybe? But that couldn’t possibly be it. Her mother wants her; this couldn’t be the first time she’s ever felt wanted. But she pushes away the emotion to think about later, because chaos is erupting now.

People start hollering, screaming, three go for their weapons, but Rapunzel quickly makes sure they don’t leave. She doesn’t want them to get in trouble on her behalf. “No, no, don’t bother,” she says, “I can handle him.”

“No offense, but I think you would be better off if you leave the ‘handling’ to us,” says Attila kindly. “We can do it easily — could you?”

The girl he remembers couldn’t, but the Rapunzel of now certainly could. She stares up at him and nods. A second or two passes, and the man reluctantly accepts this.

“Rider won’t be welcome back here anytime soon, that’s for sure,” Hook Hand says roughly. “Nobody gets to mess up our Rapunzel.” And there are sounds of agreement, echoing throughout the pub.

Rapunzel blinks back tears once more. “I— thank you,” she whispers, and it’s not long until the entire pub tries to cheer her up once more, and now she’s laughing so hard tears of happiness are streaming down her face while Shorty hangs from the ceiling above.

Chapter Text

Eugene and Cassandra don’t talk much, silently making their way through the quiet forest. It’s very different compared to his last stroll in the woods, and he normally appreciates the silence. Prefers it, even.

But the wound in his back keeps stinging, the pain never fully dissipates, and every time it twinges, Eugene remembers how he got the wound in the first place. His thoughts keep cycling back to Rapunzel. It’s always about her.

So this time, he does not covet silence. For once, he would rather have the devil-lady’s mindless chatter, but Cassandra does not indulge him unless it’s to confirm directions.

They spend the next day and a half in silence, and Eugene aches.

He knows Cassandra’s probably getting a bit fed up with him — and he doesn’t blame her. If it isn’t for him, then she could’ve gotten her way through the woods so much faster. But they slow down for him, and as much as he hates being coddled, he can’t see a way around that problem.

Eventually, they finally make it to the tower. They don’t even need to take a step inside to see that it’s not being occupied, and Eugene’s heart drops.

Rapunzel isn’t here.

Cassandra seems to come to the same conclusion, turning to face him with fire in her eyes. “I thought you said she was coming here?” She seethes.

“I thought she was!”

“Well look around you, Rider,” she spits out mockingly, her hands outstretched. “Do you see a missing princess? No? Me neither!”

He rubs his temples. “You sound like a banshee,” he mutters, and she lets out a derisive scoff.

“Oh, I sound like a banshee? You should look in the mirror at some point, at least I don’t have the mannerisms of a gluttonous swine. You can’t help but hog all the fucking apples—”

“Excuse me? First of all, I need apples to maintain the gloss in my hair. Secondly—”

“Oh, please keep going, you vainglorious buffoon—”

“Secondly, at least I don’t remind people of a giant, obstructive tree. For God’s sake, your arms fly out everywhere, no matter what we’re doing. What is with your gregarious foliage?”

“‘Gregarious foliage?’ Those are some big words, Rider, which dictionary did you look those up in?”

“Ha-ha. Go on, make another low blow about my supposed intellect. You can’t possibly come up with something more creative than that?”

“I don’t need to be witty around you, Rider; you won’t be able to understand it anyways—”

“If you’re so smart, then, why do you even need me to find Rapunzel yourself? Oh yeah, right, you can’t!”

“I could find the princess just fine on my own; it’s you I’m worried about here—”

“Oh yeah, sure, of course you could—”

“God,” a voice said, cutting through their argument. It sounds exasperated. “You’re going to wake the entire forest up and tell them exactly where you are, for fuck’s sake.”

Eugene and Cassandra stop in their tracks immediately at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. Immediately, Cassandra places her hand on her sword and draws it in a single, fluid motion. Eugene copies her motion, taking out his trusty dagger.

“Cease and desist, you really have nothing to fear from me.”

That voice… it sounds familiar, somehow. Eugene recognizes that voice, but from where? Where does he know it from? It doesn’t bode well that he knows it — he runs into many unsavory people in his line of work.

Friend or foe?

A figure jumps down from a tree and beams down at them, and immediately, it clicks.

Eugene sheathes his dagger immediately, hands outstretched. “Lance!”

“Rider!” He booms, smiling, and embraces him.

Too late, he flinches at the contact, the pain in his back acting up. Immediately, his friend releases him, eyebrows drawn in worry. “Are you okay?”

“Just got into a bit of an accident, but don’t worry. I’m fine,” he says, mustering up his finest smile. It’s easy to pretend around Lance, for Lance. A habit at this point, really, or even a skill, not worrying his friend.

“‘Lance?’” Cassandra sheathes her weapon, hands crossed defensively in front of her chest. “Rider, who is this?”

Oh, yeah. He almost forgot that the she-devil is with him.

“This is my friend, Lance Strongbow,” Eugene beams. “The finest thief besides me in all of the seven kingdoms!”

The girl shoots him a dirty look.

“Erm, reformed, that is. A reformed thief.”

“Reformed? I’m not refo—”

Eugene jabs his friend with his elbow. He loves Lance, he really does, but sometimes he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. “He’s completely reformed,” he says, lying through his teeth. “Completely, utterly, 100% reformed. Just like me. And completely repentant, too,” he adds. “Cried for three days about all the evil he has done in the world.”

He winces as the words escape, tumbling ungracefully from his mouth. Maybe he overdid it… just a little bit.

Cassandra raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You’re a bad liar, did you know that?”

“How can I forget,” he says, sulking a bit, “when I have you to kindly remind me about all my faults?”

She smiles sarcastically. “You’re welcome.”

He resists the childish urge to stick his tongue out at her, but it’s extremely tempting.

“So… what are you doing here?” Lance asks. “What even is this place?” He looks up at the giant tower in front of him, looming above his tall figure. “Seems kinda creepy to me.”

“You’d be right about that,” Rider agrees, “but not on the inside.” How could it be with all those paintings on the walls? Eugene firmly pushes those thoughts away. It’s not the right time for that. “But don’t worry, Lance — the real question is how did you even find us?”

He scoffs. “Your arguing was loud.”

Okay, fair point.

“Bad question, then. Why are you here in Corona, of all places?” He asks. “I thought you said you were going to stay away, explore the other kingdoms better.”

“I did,” Lance responds. “But they’re kind of boring, and besides. Corona’s our home.”

Something in Eugene’s gut twists at that. Lance had always believed that Corona, this kingdom, is their home. He has feelings of loyalty, maybe even patriotism, towards the kingdom. No matter how often he steals from it, he still loves it.

But for Eugene, it’s different. He doesn’t see Corona as a home or as a safe haven. For him, Corona is filled with bad memories. Memories of him getting beaten as a child, missing meals or having too little to eat for days on end. Nothing in this kingdom has protected him in the past, and he doesn’t love it. Can’t love it. It’s too foreign to him, too hostile. His plan was to rob the crown and never come back.

Impossible now, of course, since he has more important things to pursue, but that doesn’t really matter. As soon everything is fixed, as soon as everything is back to normal, Eugene is going to leave Corona, preferably with Rapunzel at his side, and never come back.

Cassandra’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Well, now that you’ve found us, you can as easily not-find us. Goodbye,” she says, waving him away as if Lance is a pigeon, or some other unwanted bird.

“Nope. I heard you arguing, and I know you’ve lost something,” says Lance, cheerfully stretching his arms. “And I’ll do anything for Rider, so I’m coming with you.”

Eugene stares at his friend, dumbfounded. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Absolutely not,” he and Cassandra says in unison. They stare at each other, somewhat unnerved at that. Cassandra shoots him a look that clearly says, You deal with him, and much as he loathes following orders, this one is something he’ll have to do.

“Lance, you don’t even know what we’re looking for,” Eugene says. “And besides, it’s dangerous.”

“We’ve been doing dangerous things since we were eight,” Lance points out, and damn if that isn’t a good point.

“Doesn’t matter,” Cassandra says, taking over. “This is official Coronian business, so it’s best if you just leave and pretend you never saw us.”

Lance’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You’re working with the guards?” He asks, impressed. “This is definitely something new… and interesting, seeing as those two goals don’t usually align.”

“You can’t come with us.” Cassandra’s voice is hard. “That’s final.”

“Well, you can’t exactly stop me,” says Lance, making another damn fine point. “I’ll just end up following you. You’d waste your time and energy devoted to making me leave, which would be futile, and to be frank, I have a feeling that time and energy are in limited supply with you two. Besides, hearing the argument between you two a mile and a half away, I’d say you need a mediator, yes?”

“Fuck,” mutters Cassandra, and Eugene drops his head into his hands.

Lance smiles brilliantly.

Chapter Text

Rapunzel spends the night at the Snuggly Duckling.

It isn’t purposeful, of course — she would never try and burden them enough to force herself to stay, uninvited. But Vladmir asked her where she was going to spend the night, and like a fool, she told them she would camp out in some tree (as she has been a few times before), and they let out a collective gasp of outrage.

After a few protests (and Rapunzel’s weak ones, too, half-heartedly insisting that she could handle it alone), she concedes to stay there for the night.

“But only for one night,” she says, protesting with a soft laugh as they almost shove her to the upstairs room she didn’t realize they had. “Okay? Only for one night.”

“Sure thing, Rapunzel,” Hook Hand says with a shit-eating grin that even Rapunzel can tell he’s lying.

“I’m serious—”

“Good night!”

He shuts the door in her face and Rapunzel laughs, pushing her hair out of her face with a smile.

The nosiness of the pub dies down once the door is shut, and she looks around at her new surroundings. It isn’t much — just a bed and a nightstand. There’s not even a closet to hang up her things, and the walls are bare, painted a simple brown.

But for some reason… it feels nice. Safe. She doesn’t know what it is; maybe it’s the fact that she can hear herself think with the door shut—

The door.

Rapunzel traces the door of her temporary bedroom with a single finger, relishing the feel of the wood on her fingertips. There’s even a lock there, and although she doesn’t lock it, the knowledge that it’s even there makes her feel… safe, maybe.

In her tower, Rapunzel didn’t have a lock. She didn’t even have a door. Just a red curtain to separate her and her mother.

Her mother has a door and a lock, not that she used it often. She always brushed Rapunzel’s inquiries about doors with a little, “I need my privacy, my flower,” and left it at that.

That’s the way of the world, isn’t it? Adults have these things and children did not. But she has a door here. She has a door.

Rapunzel touches her cheek, and it comes away wet. She’s crying?

Hastily, she wipes the tears away with her sleeve. She doesn’t know why she’s tearing up like this; there’s no good reason for her to be crying. It’s just a door, for God’s sake. It’s just a door. Why is she crying?

Besides, it’s not as if Mother was wrong about this. Her mother is the best person to ever exist in the Seven Kingdoms. All she wants to do is protect Rapunzel from the evils of the world, and the only thing Rapunzel has done is get in her way.

And her mother was right in the end, wasn’t she? Despite the time she and Rider spent with each other, he still stole a boat and sailed away with the crown, leaving her behind.

Alone, as always.

Until Mother came and found her, fighting off those two men who were trying to kidnap and sell her hair away.

Rapunzel sits down on the bed, frowning. How was Mother able to find her so easily? When she first asked, all she got was a “I followed the sound of complete and utter betrayal,” but that isn’t much of an answer at all.

A thought creeps into her brain, and Rapunzel shivers at it.

Was Mother following her all along?

No, that’s ridiculous, she thinks to herself, and dismisses the thought from her mind immediately. Her mother would never do such a thing to her. She would never follow her like that, eavesdropping and lying.

Rapunzel is being such a horrible daughter right now. Is she really about to question her mother’s motives, and for what? A door?

She hops off the bed immediately and goes to the door. Angrily, she pulls it open. She doesn’t even need a door, and she doesn’t need it shut, either, so there.

But then again, it is kind of loud out there. Rapunzel would never insult her friends at the Snuggly Duckling, but they can be — sometimes — noisy. And Rapunzel has trouble sleeping, even in her tower where it’s completely silent, so this is probably not conductive for a good night’s sleep for her.

So with a sigh, she reluctantly shuts the door once more.

Okay, maybe a reason she wants to have the door shut is to relish the feeling of being able to actually shut the door. She opens and closes it a few more times, enjoying how she feels being able to control this factor.

But still. That doesn’t mean that her mother is a bad person. Absolutely not.

Rapunzel looks out the window, and sees it has grown dark. The stars are pretty here, but it’s harder to see them from here compared to her window at home.

But still. It might be time to go to bed and stop playing with the door.

Rapunzel chuckles softly to herself and decides that yes, it’s probably a good time to get some sleep.

She takes a deep breath and begins to remove the hair ties from her hair. She has many to try and contain her hair whenever she goes to crowded places, like the Snuggly Duckling. She and her mother both agree that it’s better with her hair loose, but it’s just unfeasible surrounded by so many people.

She’s reminded of the kingdom dance, and that special day spent at Corona.

It was just her and Flynn Rider, eating cupcakes and going through bookstores and braiding her hair and dancing, dancing, dancing the day away.

Rapunzel shuts her eyes and dreams of dancing and sunlight and Rider’s soft smile.

When Rapunzel awakens the next day, the sun is already shining brightly in the sky. She bolts up in surprise when she hears a voice knock on the door.

“Can I come in?”

It’s Hook Hand, and she instantly relaxes. “Yes, of course,” she says, with a smile. It’s a novelty even being asked permission to enter a room.

He arrives, bringing some food with him. Rapunzel gets a sniff and her mouth waters immediately. “Attila made these,” he says. “He’s normally a baking sort of guy, but we’ve no one else who can really cook, so he gave it a try. Sorry if it’s not good.”

Her face is already stuffed with omelet. “No, it’s delicious!” She says after a few seconds of chewing and swallowing. “Thank Attila for me, will you?”

Hook Hand catches her eye. “Look, Rapunzel… we know you have to leave today, but… are you sure you’re okay? With Rider, and all?”

Rapunzel’s heart hardens. She has almost forgotten about his betrayal. It’s the only reason she’s here, why she’s out betraying her own mother’s wishes.

Her hand touches the dagger in her pocket. She can’t believe she spent the night dreaming of him. It will never happen again, she swears to herself. Never.

“I’m okay,” she tells her friend. “I can handle him, I swear.”

He still doesn’t look convinced. “What if he comes here, to the Snuggly Duckling, after you leave?”

Rapunzel stills. She hasn’t thought of that before. “I’ll come back here in a week,” she says decisively, “if I can’t find him. At sunset. Does that work?”

He nods, still looking worried. “Okay. Where are you heading to?”

Rapunzel tilts her head. She hasn’t really thought about this. Where is she going to go?

Where would Rider go?

She thinks back to that day in Corona, in the bookstore. Rapunzel had been in awe of the vastness of the Seven Kingdoms, and Rider had said something. What was it?

She closes her eyes, takes herself back into the bookstore in her memory. What was it? What did he say that day?

“I wouldn’t stay in Corona, myself. I’d leave, and never come back.”

“Really? Where would you go?”

“Probably Koto. There may be be stuffy, know-it-all royals, but they’re economically stable and there’s a lot to do there. Lighter sentences on thieves, as well. Besides, they like the stars, just like you, Blondie. We should go there together.

She opens her eyes.

“Koto, the Air Kingdom,” she says painfully, ignoring the squeezing in her chest. “I’m going to Koto.”

Chapter Text

“So, Flynn, what’s the plan?”

Eugene drops his head into his hands with a groan. That’s got to be one of his least favorite sentences of all time.

Lance takes a step back, hands up. “Jeez, okay. Do not ask that question again, noted.”

“No, it’s okay, Lance, it’s just…”

He doesn’t really know what to say. Eugene hates that he’s seen as the Rapunzel expert. Up until a few months ago, he would confidently say that he was. After all, Rapunzel told him everything … or so it felt. But now?

She’s been so unpredictable, and he’s worried he’ll lead both Cassandra and Lance down the wrong path.

Maybe it’s time to stop making his assumptions about the girl she was, and instead face reality to make more accurate predictions about the girl she currently is. Maybe it’s time for Eugene to stop imagining her as the girl who loves him, and wake up to the fact that she despises him.

He shuts his eyes for a moment to think.

This new version of Rapunzel… where would she go?

Her goal is to kill him, to murder him. But she’s acting on limited information about himself — because as much as he loves her, he hasn’t been able to tell her everything about himself and what he wants and likes to do, about his backstory.

So what pieces of information has he told her, and which ones would be useful for her to accomplish her goal?

Just like that, Eugene has the answer.

“We’re going to Koto,” he declares. “That’s where Rapunzel will be.”

The statement is met with a (not surprising) lack of confidence or enthusiasm. Lance simply tilts his head. “Koto?”

“The Air Kingdom?” Says Cassandra from behind him, and Eugene lets out a strangled yelp.

“Jeez, woman, I did not see you creeping up behind me!”

“Good,” says the demon-lady, crossing her arms with a smirk. “But please, Rider. That’s like, pretty far away. And according to you, this girl hasn’t been outside her tower for the past eighteen years, let alone outside the kingdom. Why do you think she’ll be heading to Koto?”

Because she’ll want to follow where I go sounds rather condescending and conceited, so Eugene tries to avoid saying that. “I just do,” he affirms, which maybe isn’t much better.

Cassandra stares at him flatly. She looks rather unamused by the whole situation.

“Look,” he says, turning his back. “Trust me or don’t; I don’t really care. You’re not entitled to all my secrets, you know. So you can choose to follow me or go your own way, and believe me — you won’t get anywhere without me, so. Best to push away your suspicions, capiche? I’m going to go set up my tent for the night.”

He waits with bated breath for the comeback, the pushback, to occur. Instead, he’s met with pure silence, and Eugene lets out a small breath of relief.

They are on his side.

It wasn’t really Lance he has problems with; he knows that Lance will follow him to the ends of the Earth if necessary. But Cassandra? That’s a whole other story.

To know that she’s not questioning his beliefs (more than she has been) and trusting him to tell her where to go feels kind of gratifying, to say the least.

She might not trust him on other things. Hell, Eugene knows that Cassandra barely trusts him at all. But when it comes to Rapunzel?

She’ll put her faith in him.

Now, all he has to do is convince Rapunzel to do the same.

Because yes, in his heart, Eugene can know that Rapunzel hates him. He knows that she wants to kill him. But damn it all to hell and beyond, Eugene is not going to let that girl go. He loves her. And if that means putting his life on the line for her, he’ll do it.

Take away the thief, and all that remains is Eugene Fitzherbert: a boy from an orphanage who nobody ever loved. Rapunzel saw beyond the thief and loved him, and so he won’t ever stop loving her back.

That drive pushes him to set up his tent, ignoring the wounds, and once it’s finished, he sits down with an exhausted sigh.

“Man, it almost feels like I’m getting old,” he murmurs to himself.

A chuckle escapes from nearby. Next to him, Lance settles down by his side. “Don’t waste away what remains of our youth, Rider. We’ve only got a little bit of it left as it is.”

“The horrors,” he jokes. “I swear, the moment I see a gray hair, I’m going to lose it.”

“You’ve already got them,” Lance deadpans.

He smacks the thief. “Don’t ever say that kind of blasphemy again.”

“Okay, okay! Calm down,” Lance says with a laugh. “I won’t make fun of you. Your hair is still nice and… brown.”

“Wow. So kind. I’m really feeling the love here.”

“Jeez, Rider.”

They sit in silence for a minute together and watch as the sun goes down slowly, the streaks of orange and red filling up the sky like a painting. It’s calming to watch the sunset; it always has been for him. Fills him with a sense of peace Eugene doesn’t normally feel.

Lance breaks the silence. He doesn’t look at him, but continues staring straight on at the sunset. “So, uh, what’s the deal with this girl? Tell me about her. Last I heard, you were swearing off of commitment forever.”

“Yeah,” he says distantly. “That’s how I used to feel, but Lance. Rapunzel is so different from all of them. She’s kind and loving and honestly, just so expressive and thoughtful and selfless.”

Lance looks at him then. “Hearing you wax poetry about some girl with literal hearts in your eyes is really weird for me, and I hope you know that,” he says flatly. “But all the same… I’m glad you have someone now.”

Eugene bumps shoulders with his friend. “Hey. Even though I have Rapunzel, I still want you around, you know? You’re my best buddy, Lance.”

He can see Lance’s eyes soften with happiness before he ruins the moment, “Aw, man, enough with the mushy-mushy stuff,” his best friend laughs, “you’re gonna give me heartburn.”

Cassandra silently shows up and sits down, opposite from Eugene and Lance. Automatically, Eugene can feel himself tensing up. Lance shoots him a quick glance: you good?

Eugene simply sends over a quick nod before they focus on the she-devil.

“I never thought Rider would be the one to start up all the feelings conversation,” she says, and he doesn’t think he’s imaging the teasing tone the girl is adopting.

Is she joking with him? Are they really doing this, having a moment of… of camaraderie?

This is surreal.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs his shoulders. “First time for everything. Isn't that right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she responds, waving it away. “So, uh, Lance. How do you know Rapunzel?”

“I don’t,” says the other man, leaning back in relaxation. “But Flynn cares about her, so I do.”

The girl’s gaze whips from Eugene to Lance and back to Eugene again. She sits back, quietly reassessing. “I see,” she says.

It looks like it’s coming at a surprise for her, that Flynn Rider could muster up this kind of loyalty to someone else. Honestly, it’s still surprising to him as well. Maybe it’s because Lance knew him before he became Flynn Rider, Thief Extraordinaire.

“So, uh, Owl Lady,” Eugene says. “What do you say we have some fun?”

Her eyes narrow — but this time, it’s not in distrust, but rather, in competition. It’s interesting for Eugene that he is starting to decipher her looks and can understand what they mean. “I’m not sure what you think is fun will actually be that,” she snarks at him.

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “Ow, that burns,” he says, throwing himself in Lance’s lap. “My heart cannot take this!”

Lance, rather unceremoniously, drops Eugene, whose head hits the floor with a thunk.

“Ow!” He says loudly and in indignation. “That one actually hurt!”

But it’s too late for him now, because Lance and Cassandra are now doubled over laughing at him. He finds himself softening to them and forgives Lance for that stunt. Just a bit.

Once they’ve recovered, Cassandra asks him: “so, what did you have in mind, Rider?”

Right. Some fun. He hasn’t really thought that far ahead, so meekly, he offers the first thing that comes to mind. “Charades?”

“I love charades!” Lance says, rubbing his hands together gleefully like a babe.

Cassandra smirks. “You’re on.”

And they play, and Eugene loses rather spectacularly, Lance emerging as a winner. And while Lance makes his victory dance across their carefully laid-out camp, Eugene catches Cassandra’s eyes, which are as soft and unguarded as she’s ever had them around him.

And maybe things will be okay. Maybe things will be different now. Because in this moment, he knows that she’s starting to trust them.

And he’s learnt this lesson from Rapunzel: if there’s trust, the rest will naturally follow.