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Eugene wants to remember the celebrations. He really does. He wants to remember every second of rousing laughter, every morsel of mouth-watering food. After all, little orphan Eugene would probably have a heart attack if he ever laid eyes on a shindig this grand. Of course, he also probably would have stolen that fancy vase sitting in the corner. And also that painting on the wall. Oh, and the bracelet Rapunzel is wearing too.
What? The instinct is still there.
But Eugene CAN’T remember most of it. Looking back, it’s all a giant blur of dancing and singing and hand shaking and smiling and SO MUCH Rapunzel, he can remember that bit clearly. But the details? They just aren’t coming through. No matter how hard Eugene tries.
It shouldn’t matter, really. He’s got the gist. And who really wants to remember the specific type of cheese that was served, or the specific type of wine that he drank, anyway?
But Eugene does. Because two days after the celebrations have finally ended, the king pulls him aside and asks him for his ring back.
What ring, you ask? Well, Eugene doesn’t know either. He assumes it’s the jewelry kind, and it’s gotta be gold, right? After all, it’s the king we’re talking about here.
But why would Eugene have it? Now, that is the question. And it takes him all of two seconds to come to the obvious conclusion that, of course, he doesn’t.
He makes up some excuse about how he’s got it stashed safely in his trunk, before shrugging out of the king’s grasp and sweating his way down the hallway to his room. When he opens his door, he feels like punching a wall, because why does his room have to have so many hiding spots, anyway?
He’s midway through pilfering his closet when the door behind him squeaks open, and he jumps.
“Ah! Blondie, you scared me,” he gasps, placing a hand on his chest and breathing heavily. She’s standing in the doorframe, staring at him with a bizarre expression on her face. Eugene stops short. “Wait a second- What’s wrong?”
“WHERE is my dad’s ring?” she says, hands on her hips.
Could it be? That Rapunzel is…angry? Eugene has never seen an angry Rapunzel before. In fact, he didn’t even really think it was possible. Just yesterday, he’d watched her stub her toe three different times (bare feet, am I right?), and she’d only laughed and giggled with Pascal about how clumsy she was. That would have made Eugene mad. He hates stubbing his toes.
But yes, he thinks, she really might be angry. And he’s (understandably) terrified.
“His ring?” Eugene balks. “Wh- You mean the one he gave me?”
“Eugene,” she warns, tapping her foot on the ground and frowning at him.
“It’s here!” Eugene says. “In my closet! Under these…clothes.” He gestures to the half dozen shirts that are now spread around him on the ground, hoping they look like purposeful locations to store a ring.
Rapunzel crosses her arms suspiciously.
“You don’t know where it is, do you?” she says finally.
“I don’t- Now why would you say such a thing, of course I know where it is. It’s right…,” he scans his room, frantically searching for a place to offer up as a potential location. “…somewhere.”
“Eugene!” Rapunzel suddenly bursts, and Eugene winces. This isn’t the first time he’s had a woman he’s romantically involved with get angry at him, but normally he just adds in an extra smolder and that takes care of it. Or, he makes a run for it. Whichever comes first.
But somehow, he doesn’t think either of those options are going to work for him here. For one thing, he’s too panicked to start running, and for another, Rapunzel seems weirdly immune to his smolder anyway. Whatever that’s about.
“I can’t believe you lost it!” Rapunzel is now pacing around his room, her hands on her head, pulling at her hair. Pascal glares at Eugene from her shoulder. “His favorite silver ring. He’s gonna be so upset!”
Ok, Eugene is really freaking out now. He can’t believe this is happening. This must have been a test from the king: give the famous Flynn Rider a precious object, tempt him with riches, ask him to prove that his daughter really was more important to him than being the devilish rogue he was before. And while the answer is certainly yes to that final question, what do you know, Eugene has already blown it. He’s apparently so good at stealing that he’s reached the point where he does it without even realizing it.
But wait….
“It was silver?” Eugene asks. Because that’s actually a very helpful detail. It’s something he can work with, a clue he can use to help track down where exactly this ring he was given might have ended up.
But when he looks back at Rapunzel, her anger seems to have wavered slightly.
“It’s…NOT…silver?” she says hesitantly. It’s not the response Eugene was expecting, and the two of them blink at one another for a moment. Then, Eugene has an epiphany.
“Wait a second,” he says, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “How did you even KNOW about the ring?”
“Because…” Rapunzel bites her lip, wringing her hands together nervously. “Because my dad asked me where it was this morning. And I just KNEW you didn’t have it.”
Eugene crosses his arms. Hm. What do ya know, an unconvincing lie. He’s taught Rapunzel many things over the past few weeks, but try as she might, her lying skills really aren’t improving. She should really get on that, if she wants to successfully pull anything over on Flynn Rider.
“You don’t know what he’s talking about either, do you?” Eugene says flatly.
Rapunzel stares at him for a second. Then, she groans.
“No! Oh, Eugene! Did he give us a ring? I don’t remember one. How could we have lost it?”
“Woah, there Blondie, relax,” he says, placing his hands on her shoulders to stop her nervous fidgeting. He’s terrified, but he also feels weirdly like singing? Because thank God. For once in his life this isn’t just HIS fault. Blondie is in on it too! “I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. We just have to remember where.”
His eyes scan the room around him while Rapunzel plops down onto his bed, taking deep breaths and fidgeting nervously with her hair. It’s possible that the ring is in here, sure. But the more confusing aspect of this whole situation is that he can’t even remember the king giving it to him. A lot has happened in the past week. It’s just as likely that the ring is somewhere else in the castle as it is that it’s buried somewhere in his sparsely decorated and relatively empty room.
“Quick!” Eugene says, spinning around to look Rapunzel in the eye. “What have we done for the past seven days?”
Rapunzel looks at him, startled.
“Ummmm,” she says. “Well, we did a lot of dancing…”
Eugene puts a finger to his chin thoughtfully.
“We did dance…”
“And I think we sang some?”
Eugene winces.
“Ooh, I don’t remember that.”
“And…well, maybe we kissed a little?”
“That we certainly did do, yes I remember it VERY clearly.”
Rapunzel groans, flopping back onto his bed.
“Ugh, I don’t know, Eugene. What are we gonna do?”
“Relax, Sunshine, it’s gonna be fine,” he says. He kneels down on the ground so that they’re at eye level, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. “We just have to think very carefully about what we’ve done over the past few days. I’m sure we can figure out where it went.”
On the first day of the party, Eugene is a little too busy counting his blessings to really recall much. Every day, it’s the same routine. He wakes up, panics because he doesn’t know where he is. Then he panics because he doesn’t know where Rapunzel is. And then he panics because he knows exactly where they both are.
It’s been ten continuous days of this vicious cycle, and frankly, it’s getting old. As much as he can hardly believe it, it doesn’t appear that he’s going to be killed any time soon, and while he hasn’t been ‘officially’ pardoned, the topic of his imprisonment just doesn’t seem to be coming up.
The official celebration starts this evening, now that the lost princess has returned and she’s had at least a few days to settle in. The king and queen have planned seven days of festivities, and Eugene has never seen such splendor. Maids rush by his room at least four times a day, mopping the floors and dusting the curtains and doing all manner of party prepping things. The smell of pastries permeates every corner of the castle, and guests of various renown have been arriving all day, sweeping down the corridors in their fancy dresses and pristine gowns.
Eugene just sits in his bedroom throughout most of it, trying to make himself scarce. He doesn’t need too many people to remember that he’s here. You know, being a technically still unpardoned thief and all.
He appreciates his room. It’s a little on the smaller side, sure, but it’s certainly bigger than anything he’s been able to call his own before, and MUCH bigger than the prison cell he was expecting to greet him here upon his return. There’s a window. And a bed. Plus a small chest of drawers that Eugene still can’t bring himself to put his stuff in. Because how much longer is he going to be allowed to stay here, really?
The only downside is that it’s in the basement, near the kitchens. And Rapunzel’s room is not. Actually, he has no idea where her room is. It’s something that seems to have been purposely kept from him, and Eugene knows not to push it. He’s a guest here, after all. Wouldn’t want the lost princess getting TOO close and comfortable with the rogue who had mysteriously delivered her.
If anything, EUGENE was the one who was more concerned with keeping up appearances. Because he HASN’T gone looking for her room, thank you very much. However, the same cannot be said of Rapunzel, who, on their very first night in the castle, had snuck down to his room in the dead of night, unclear on why exactly she couldn’t stay with the only person she’d really gotten to know after being trapped in a tower for 18 years. When he’d gently nudged her away, she’d resigned herself to sneaking down to his room every morning instead.
THIS morning, she arrives wearing a dress of fine silk, its delicate sleeves boasting intricate lacework, and the neckline dipping enticingly across her chest. Her hair looks different too. Like it’s been brushed with extra care, and her cheeks are tinged with pink, as if she’s recently been out in the cold.
She’s ALSO three hours earlier than normal.
Eugene yawns and blinks at her when she knocks at his door.
“Excited, are we?” he smiles.
She rushes past him and plops down onto his bed, watching as he tugs on his vest and tries to comb out his hair, which is sticking up in all directions from sleep. When he finishes, he stands in front of the mirror to admire his handiwork. Not too shabby for an only recently reformed thief.
“You’re gonna need something nicer to wear than that,” Rapunzel says playfully from behind him, and Eugene turns around to look at her.
“Um, excuse me, your highness,” he says. “But this vest has seen things you could never imagine. It is an all-purpose garment. There’s no event at which it would not be welcome.”
She giggles. She’s sitting on her hands, bouncing up and down on his mattress, and she keeps shooting excited glances at Pascal, who rests lazily on her shoulder. Eugene catches onto her weird elated aura pretty quickly, but he decides to milk it for a bit. Because she looks pretty cute there, really. All flustered in her pretty dress sitting there on his bed. He turns back to his mirror instead.
“EUGENE,” she finally sings.
“Hm?”
“Don’t you want to know why I’m so excited?”
He turns around.
“Aright, Blondie, I’ll bite. What has got you so chipper this morning? I mean, more-so than usual?”
Rapunzel bites her lip and giggles, shooting another excited glance at Pascal. Eugene expects her to blurt out something completely normal, like how she’s having pancakes for breakfast (everything is exciting to Rapunzel), but instead, she simply stands up, squeals, and runs straight back out of his room.
Wait a second. What?
Pascal is still sitting on his bed, and Eugene looks at him. But Pascal only shrugs.
Luckily, Rapunzel returns only a few seconds later, and now she’s holding something large and bulky behind her back.
“Rapunzel, wha-”
“Ta-da!” she says, holding it out to him.
It’s a vest. Similar to the one he has, but…darker. And much, MUCH nicer. Eugene ogles it. In his head, he’s trying to figure out exactly how much a vest this nice costs. At least twice the amount he used to manage to nab in a year. In fact, scratch that. THREE times as much. The price that he would have been able to get for a thing like this a few weeks ago…
“Come on, put it on!” Rapunzel says, interrupting his thoughts. Before he knows it she’s unclipping his vest (woah) and sliding the new one on.
When she’s done, she turns him around to face the mirror.
“Oh, Eugene, you look so handsome,” she sighs. “Don’t you think so, Pascal?”
Eugene blinks at himself. It IS rather flattering. The edges are elegantly shaped, and they make him look…nice, actually. He wouldn’t call himself an aficionado of fashion, but he knows when he looks good. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that the vest was clearly made for him.
He realizes that he hasn’t said much this whole time (which is weird for him, he knows) and Rapunzel seems to have noticed.
“What’s wrong?” she frowns.
“Nothing,” he says.
“Oh come on, since when does Eugene Fitzherbert miss out on a chance to brag about how he looks?” she smiles, turning him to face her and placing her hands on his (new vest-clad) chest.
“It’s just…” Eugene hesitates. Despite Rapunzel’s best efforts, he still wouldn’t call himself a touchy feely guy. Even if he did sing some song about lights a few days ago. He’s still getting used to this whole sharing thing, and it doesn’t feel like it will ever get easier. “I dunno. I can’t shake the feeling that…well, that I’m not exactly supposed to be here.”
“What do you mean?”
Eugene shoots her a look. He doesn’t really need to explain it, does he? He’s a criminal - an outlaw, really, and in Eugene’s humble opinion, the kingdom’s best. Every single person at this party tonight is going to look at him and think, who let that guy in? He’s going to have to spend the rest of his life proving that he’s worthy of the incredible girl that stands before him. And he’ll do it, of course. But is it a pointless endeavor? Will anyone ever really believe him?
“Eugene,” Rapunzel says, cutting into his thoughts. He never really answered her question, but she seems to have sussed out his reasoning anyway. She gently moves his hair away from his face and stands up on her toes to rub her nose against his. “I want you here. And that’s all that matters.”
Eugene sighs. He wants to be here, too. More than anything he’s ever wanted before. Strangely enough, the whole castle part of the deal now feels like the only downside of this new reality, even though he’d been dreaming of owning one only weeks before.
But does it really matter that he’s scared? That he feels out of place? That he’s never sure he’ll be good enough? Sure, it matters. But it doesn’t matter to him as much as making sure that Rapunzel doesn’t feel any of those things either. So he takes her hand and brings it to his lips.
“What do ya say we go debut this new vest at breakfast?” he smiles, and Rapunzel claps her hands together and pecks him quickly on the cheek before grabbing his hand and dragging him off to the dining room.
The party that night starts with a feast that turns into speeches that turns into dancing that turns into Eugene collapsing into bed at some ungodly hour, exhausted from lurking about in the corner while Rapunzel was doted upon by the kingdom’s finest. But Eugene really can’t remember any of that. Because he’s too busy thinking about whether he looked ok in his new vest. And how many people in the room were probably thinking that he stole it.
“Did you put the ring on that morning?” Rapunzel asks. “When I gave you the vest?”
“I think I would have remembered that. It probably would have pulled the whole outfit together.”
“Well, how about the second day?”
“Right! Hm, I don’t remember much of that either…”
On the second day of the celebrations, when dinner has finished and they’re all on their way to the throne room for more dancing, the king claps Eugene on the shoulder, hands him a beer, and tells him he needs to relax. Eugene almost spits out his (non-alcoholic) drink at the contact. He’s talked to the king since they’d arrived at the castle. Really, he has! But never alone, and never about anything substantial. Really, Rapunzel has always done more of the talking for him. This jovial prodding by his royal highness is unexpected, and at first, Eugene tries to turn him down. He’s trying to make a good impression, after all, and drinking isn’t likely to do him any favors.
But the king is insistent, so Eugene finally concedes. It IS a celebration, after all. And maybe a few light libations will help take the edge off, make it a little easier to navigate this whole royal situation.
But now, Eugene has a memory problem for a whole different reason. And what do ya know, this beer thing might actually be pretty helpful for the whole thought spiraling predicament he’s got going on.
He lasts all of five minutes drinking awkwardly with the king before he begs off to go get something to eat. Now that he’s STARTED drinking, he’s happy to keep the party going. But here? In the ballroom? Why even enjoy the beer when he can’t REALLY enjoy it, you know?
He wants to go find Rapunzel, envisions the two of them spending the rest of the evening doing something sappy like lying in the grass and looking up at the stars. But Rapunzel, the last he’d seen her, was off dancing with her mother, and Eugene really doesn’t want to interrupt that. So instead of doing what he wants to and whisking her away all for himself, he goes outside, looking for an escape from the din. An escape that comes in the forms of the stables. An escape by the name of Maximus.
Now, he wouldn’t call his relationship with Max perfect by any means, but the two of them have come to a grudging accord. Sometimes, Eugene brings him apples. And sometimes, Maximus doesn’t kick him in the stomach. It’s the best either of them could really hope for.
Tonight, Eugene has come prepared. He steps into the stables with a sack full of red fruit and a few extra tankards of beer, and Max looks at him like he isn’t sure where this is going, but if there’s going to be apples involved, he’s in.
It turns out that Max is quite the conversationalist. He listens closely while Eugene tells him about the food and the dancing and, most importantly, about Rapunzel, and he snorts and whinnies in all the right places. The two of them are busy discussing whether Lord Eggerton from Bambleby is really as much of a stick-in-the-mud as he seems when Rapunzel finds them.
“What are you two doing?” she says, leaning on the edge of the stable door. Today, she’s wearing a dress that’s a soft lavender, and Eugene thinks it goes perfect with her eyes. He’s several beers in at this point, and he’s lying in a pile of hay, his boots tossed off and his shirt partially unbuttoned, because at some point he’d just decided that he needed to breathe better, ok? Max is punch drunk on apples, swaying about in his stable with a sleepy look in his eyes.
“Blondie!” Eugene yells, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. “I was just havin’ a few beers with my buddy here.”
Max whinnies, and the whole thing must look very suspicious, because Rapunzel squints at the two of them, making her own way into the stable.
“Is that what everyone’s been drinking?” She picks up the tankard Eugene has left sitting on the floor, sniffing it and wrinkling her nose. “It smells…interesting.”
“Ah, Sunshine, if only you knew,” he sighs. “This beverage is the pinnacle of man. The things I’ve done after having a few too many beers. Man! Those were some good times.”
She looks at him like she still doesn’t quite know what he’s talking about. Which, to be fair, she doesn’t.
“Why are you talking funny?” she giggles.
Eugene furrows his brow. IS he talking funny? Shoot, he thought he sounded perfectly astute.
“Why are YOU spinning around in circles?” he retorts. Man, he’s good. How even IS he this good? It’s almost too impressive for him to handle.
Rapunzel frowns.
“I’m…not?”
“Oh. Right,” he says. Then he shrugs. “Must be the beer, then.”
Rapunzel laughs again.
“You’re acting silly,” she says, plopping down beside him in the hay and poking him in the arm. Eugene notices her cheeks go red as she purposely averts her eyes from his partially unbuttoned shirt, and he grins despite himself.
“I am not acting silly!” he says dramatically, laying a hand over his heart. “Max and I were just having a very important discussion about Lord Eggerton before you so rudely interrupted. Isn’t that right, Max?”
Max is too busy snuffling around the bottom of the bag of apples to reply.
Rapunzel pokes curiously at Eugene’s half-empty tankard of beer sitting on the floor.
“Can I try some?” she says brightly. “Some of your beer? It looks fun.”
Eugene thinks about saying no, telling her it’s un-princess like and…kind of disgusting anyway. But who is he to deny her the pleasure of drinking? She’s discovering the world for the first time, and (thank god) beer is just one part of it.
“I don’t know, Blondie,” he says. “I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”
“Oh, come on,” Rapunzel scoffs. “How bad can it be?”
In true Rapunzel fashion, she approaches the beer-drinking task with as much enthusiasm as she does everything else, grabbing the tankard and taking a large gulp. Eugene winces, because oops, he guesses he could have at least told her to take it slow.
Rapunzel blanches. And then she cringes. And then she claps a hand over her mouth. Eugene raises an eyebrow, a look on his face that says I told you so. But Rapunzel seems unwilling to let her positivity slip, because she eventually forces it down, swallowing with an exaggerated gulp.
“It’s…good!” she winces. Then she burps. “Yay! Beer!”
The first rule of drinking: only drink with people who are as drunk as you. Eugene is way past the ‘yay’ part of the evening and ready for the sleeping part. In fact, thoughts of settling down for a nice nap here in the hay with Rapunzel are now drifting to his mind, and his eyelids are feeling VERY heavy.
But Rapunzel is behind. WAY behind. She looks at him expectantly, like she’s waiting for him to teach her more about this glorious thing called beer. And as much as Eugene would love to regale her with the joys of drinking, that would have been much more enjoyable two hours ago.
“What?” he says, when she won’t stop staring at him.
“Well, what do we do now?”
“What do you mean, what do we do now?” Eugene’s head is swimming, and he squints at her.
“Do we give a toast? Like at dinner last night, with the wine? Oh! Or we could get in a fight. They seemed to do a lot of that in the snuggly duckling. And there was lots of beer there.”
“A fight?” he says, wrinkling his nose. “No offense, Blondie, but Max and I could totally take you.”
“Alright, fine,” she says, but when Eugene doesn’t offer up any alternatives, she leans in closer. “Well what DO you do? When you drink beer?”
Eugene thinks about it (and thinking takes quite a bit more effort at this time, considering the amount of alcohol he’s ingested and the fact that Rapunzel is now practically on his lap, staring at him with those giant green eyes). What DOES he do? Mostly, he just goofs off and kills the entire evening doing something stupid. Drinking is not supposed to be about DOING things. It’s supposed to be about avoiding the things you don’t feel like doing.
“Uhhhh. You know, stuff. Talk to people. Make bets. Play darts. Chat up some…” he falters, clearing his throat. “Gross people.”
“You were going to say ladies, weren’t you?” Rapunzel says.
“No!” Eugene scoffs. But who is he kidding, really? Yes, of course he meant ladies.
“Well, I’m here,” Rapunzel says, inching closer to him in the hay. Eugene is beginning to realize that this might not be such a good idea, having her here alone. With him. While he’s drunk.
“I’M a lady,” Rapunzel continues. Oh yes, Eugene very much knows. “So what would you say to ME?”
Eugene smiles, because THIS is a challenge he is up for. Sure, he might not know which spoon to use at dinner or how to most properly greet a royal earl, but chatting up a beautiful woman? Eugene considers himself an expert.
“Well, princess,” he says, doing his best to sound serious. “I would START by giving you the smolder.”
“I think we’ve already established that that doesn’t work on me,” Rapunzel says.
“Shhhh,” Eugene whispers loudly, pressing a finger against Rapunzel’s lips. “Be quiet and let me woo you.”
Rapunzel giggles.
“THEN, after said smolder, I would tell you how beautiful you are.”
“Mhm,” Rapunzel says, rolling her eyes.
“As beautiful as the night sky. SO beautiful, in fact, that I don’t think I even knew what real beauty was until I saw you.”
Rapunzel laughs, shoving him back into the hay.
But then maybe Eugene really does start giving into his beer because now that she’s lying on top of him, he sort of forgets about the pretend flirting thing and starts saying a bunch of actual, real things instead, like how she makes him feel hopeful and all that crap. And before he knows it they’re kissing and oh boy is he gonna be in trouble for this someday if anyone ever finds out.
The rest of the evening is a blur. Eugene has a few more beers and Rapunzel only finishes the one but by that point she’s as drunk as he is. She scurries around the stable talking WAY too loudly and startling both Max and Pascal, and Eugene remembers laughing and shushing her and showing her to her room (aha! So that’s where it is…) and WAIT!
Maybe the ring WAS there at some point.
Nope.
He’s still getting a big, fat, nothing.
Maybe we lost it when we snuck into the kitchens?
Did we sneak into the kitchens?
I thought so.
Oh! What about when we went down to the boats?
We went to the boats?
Yeah, I’m gonna say we should just skip to the next day.
On the third day, Eugene wakes up with the worst hangover of his life. Sure, Rapunzel has softened many aspects of his personality, but he wasn’t expecting his tolerance to be one of them. The old Eugene (the Flynn Rider one) would have been able to knock back that many beers and wake up feeling fine and dandy, ready to face a new day and steal a new thing.
But apparently, the present Eugene is a wimp. The whole singing at the lanterns thing probably should have tipped him off.
He groans as he sits up in bed, dragging a hand over his eyes. God, he feels awful. What was he thinking, drinking that many beers? He’s supposed to be impressing people with his maturity, not his drinking skills. So much for making a good impression.
“Eugene?” Rapunzel’s voice calls from outside his bedroom door. Right. Morning. Sneaky Rapunzel. Sunshiny, HAPPY Rapunzel. Eugene forces himself up, wincing as the morning light hits his eyes, and he heads for the door, doing his best to put on a positive face.
Rapunzel is standing in the archway looking so haggard that Eugene almost doesn’t even recognize her. Ever since he’d met her, she had always been so peppy. Almost always GLOWING. Even before she had left her tower. Even when faced with the thugs at the snuggly duckling. Sometimes, Eugene forgot that she was human. That might have something to do with the whole being in love thing, but really now, you had to admit that her constant positivity was a little insane.
But this morning, it’s like all sense of spiritedness has been sucked out of her. Her short hair poofs up around her head, frizzy and matted from what looks like a simultaneously restful and stressful sleep session. She’s wearing what Eugene thinks must be her pajamas, because what she has on now could by no means be described as a gown. It’s too…soft. And flowy. And the arms of it are made of a sheer, baby blue fabric. Now WOULD be a good time for Eugene to admire the skin that peeks through a garment that is much less formal than Rapunzel’s usual wear, but Eugene is too hungover to care (much, at least).
“Why do I feel so terrible?” Rapunzel groans, propping herself up against the doorframe. Pascal is sitting on her shoulder looking thoroughly alarmed. Eugene supposes that chameleons don’t know much about drinking. In fact, Pascal probably figures Eugene has poisoned her or something, judging by the scathing looks he keeps sending in his direction. And to be fair, in some ways, Eugene technically had.
“It’s CALLED, a hangover,” Eugene says. “And it…” he tries to come up with something positive to say about it. “No yeah, it’s the worst.”
Rapunzel drags a hand down the side of her face, as if she’s trying to rip the feeling straight out of her.
“Well how do we fix it? Come on, Eugene, I feel like I’m dying.”
It dawns on Eugene briefly that Rapunzel may not have even experienced sickness much before. After all, she was shut up in that tower, cut off from the world and everything it entailed, including germs. She’s obviously less experienced in the area of illness, and once again, Eugene finds himself in a position of authority.
“Not to worry, m’lady, because I am the hangover expert,” he says, drawing her into his room. Partially because, well, he wants her in his room, and partially because he’s suddenly aware that she is standing outside of it in her pajamas, and there is no way he won’t get in trouble for this if a guard walks by. He places his hands on her shoulders, trying to ignore the sloshing feeling in his stomach. “We just need some food. And water. And also a nap, probably.”
Rapunzel spots herself in the mirror behind him and lets out a soft sob.
“Oh, Eugene, what am I going to do? I can’t go to the celebrations tonight looking like this!” She pokes at her hair, as if willing it to return to its smooth, shiny self.
“Rapunzel, relax,” Eugene says. “You’ll feel better in a few hours. All you need to do is sleep it off.”
“I can’t sleep!” she yells, and Eugene winces. Living in a tower for so long hadn’t done much for Rapunzel’s volume control. “My parents asked us both to eat breakfast with them, so they can tell us about this important duke who’s coming to the celebrations tonight.”
Eugene blanches.
“Breakfast?” he says nervously. “Like, this morning?”
At Rapunzel’s despairing look, he catches himself.
“Alright, look, all we’ve gotta do is get ourselves looking at least…presentable, make it through one measly meal, and sleep for the next few hours. BAM, you’ll be good as new by dinner tonight.”
Rapunzel looks doubtful, but Eugene just thrusts her in front of the mirror.
“Here,” he says, standing behind her. “Let’s do something about your hair.” It feels like it’s getting poofier by the second, and it’s starting to seriously stress Eugene out.
“What’s wrong with my hair?” Rapunzel pouts. Eugene has to believe she’s being purposefully obstinate, because come on now, she knows that her hair is…a mess.
“Nothing!” he says. “Gorgeous, as always. Just a tad bit…” he hesitates, touching the edges of her brown locks delicately. “Poofy.”
Rapunzel looks like she wants to cry.
“Alright, alright, relax,” he says. “All we have to do is…” He thinks for a moment. He’s well-versed in caring for his own hair (it requires a lot of work, maintaining his good looks), but he can admit that he’s less informed on girls’ hair. It certainly requires a lot more upkeep. Rapunzel had told him she brushed her hair at least 100 times a day back when she lived in the tower, and they really don’t have time for that. Plus, Eugene doesn’t even have a brush.
Sometimes, when Eugene finds himself in a pickle and he doesn’t have his comb, he can manage to save a bad hair day with just his fingers and a little bit of spit. And Rapunzel’s hair is short now, right? It’s not so different from his.
So he wets his fingers with saliva and lays his hands on the sides of her head, smooshing her hair down on both sides. He watches himself in the mirror, sees how ridiculous he looks with his hands squeezing Rapunzel’s face. How she’s staring at him with a sense of dumbfounded disbelief. How, when he finally releases his hands…It hasn’t really helped.
“There!” Eugene says, because now is not the time to be negative. “Good as new.”
“I don’t think that helped,” Rapunzel sighs, staring back at him in the mirror with a pitiful look on her face.
“What do you want from me, Blondie? I’m not a hairdresser. I can’t be good at EVERYTHING, you know.”
She groans, blowing a piece of frizzy hair out of her face in her frustration.
Eugene eyes her outfit next.
“Alright, now what about your dress?” he says.
Rapunzel looks down at the blue nightgown she is currently wearing. And yes, Eugene is awake enough now to call it what it is. A nightgown. A very…nice…nightgown.
“I was too nauseous to change,” Rapunzel shrugs.
“Well, as much as I can relate to that statement,” Eugene says, glancing down at his own sleeping attire. “I don’t think what you’ve got going on there is gonna work for breakfast. Or anywhere outside your room, for that matter.”
Rapunzel just sighs.
They do end up making it to breakfast, after Rapunzel has returned to her room to change. Eugene thinks they look slightly better than before, especially considering Rapunzel had apparently found a brush in her room. His stomach turns when he sees the food spread out on the table in front of them, but he forces some of it down anyway with a smile. Rapunzel is doing a considerably worse job keeping up appearances. She still isn’t very good at lying. In fact, she may never be, if the way that she gulps down her food with a grimace and blanches every two seconds is anything to go by.
“How did you sleep, dear?” the queen asks delicately. She and the king do everything delicately when it comes to Rapunzel.
“Good!” Rapunzel says, with far too much enthusiasm.
“And did you enjoy the dancing last night?”
“Oh, very much so,” Rapunzel says. She turns a little green. “There was lots of…spinning.”
Ugh , Eugene thinks. Spinning .
“I’m glad you had fun,” the king hops in. “Because there will be even more dancing tonight. Plus, the chef has prepared a five-course meal for dinner. I trust that you like fondue?”
Eugene holds his breath and hopes that Rapunzel doesn’t puke on the spot.
They make it through breakfast (he can’t really believe it), and Eugene sends her back to her room to rest. After a few hours of napping they’re both feeling only slightly refreshed, and that evening’s celebrations are a blur because Eugene simultaneously feels like he’s gonna vomit at any moment while also being terrified that she will too.
You don’t think…?
Honestly, Blondie, if there’s a ring in there somewhere I’m not sure I want to know where it is.
On the fourth day, Eugene is simply too busy thinking about HER to remember having any kind of ring. Because she’s wearing a dress with sleeves that tip just slightly off her shoulder, and something about her skin looks extra glowy and WOW. He cannot believe he is even allowed to be here with her.
He isn’t drinking much tonight - he’d learned his lesson there. So instead, he stands off to the side of the ballroom, watching as couples zip around the dance floor. Rapunzel herself is one of them, twirling around with some old guy who is apparently one of the king’s most trusted advisors. She tips back her head and laughs every time he spins her around, and Eugene can’t help smiling as he watches her. Returning to the castle hasn’t been easy for her, but it’s moments like these, when she looks so young and carefree, that Eugene feels like it all was worth it.
“She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?”
Eugene jumps. The queen has materialized beside him, a glass of wine in her hand and a subtle smile on her lips.
“Your majesty!” he says. His face goes pink. Apparently, Eugene Fitzherbert gets embarrassed around the royal couple. It probably has something to do with all the stuff Flynn Rider stole from them. “I was just- uh…”
“Admiring my daughter?” the queen fills in, her eyes drifting over to where Eugene’s had been only moments before. “Relax, Eugene, it’s alright.”
Eugene rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, clearing his throat. He hasn’t spent much more time talking to the queen than he has the king. She’s less intimidating, for sure, but she also feels too all-knowing. Like every time she looks at him she’s staring straight into his soul, rummaging around amongst his darkest, most embarrassing secrets. He’s hesitant to spark up a conversation with her, because it feels like whatever direction that conversation goes, it has the potential to become majorly personal.
But the queen also seems…relatable somehow. Even though she IS the queen. Eugene can’t put his finger on it, but he gets the sense that when she does look at him, she’s telling him that she understands, that she gets it, that there’s something here that they share. Eugene has no idea what that is. He’s an orphan, for pete’s sake. One who’s spent most of his life thieving and on the run. And she’s the literal freaking queen.
Maybe it’s because she has a thirst for adventure. Or at least, that’s what they say. Most of the intel he’s gained about the royal couple comes from conversations he’s overheard amongst the maids. They like to gossip, and they also spend a weird amount of time cleaning around his room, whispering and giggling. Whatever that’s about.
Just kidding, Eugene knows exactly what that’s about. And it’s awesome. Even if he IS now technically taken.
Fawning women aside, the maids’ gossip is helpful in some ways. Eugene learns that the queen didn’t grow up in the castle. That she loves to ride horses and go sailing and spend lots of her time outdoors. She’s like Rapunzel in that way, Eugene supposes. Spirited and carefree.
But even if they DO have some things in common, Eugene certainly isn’t about to bring them up. Sure, they both might enjoy a little romp through the woods. But that’s not enough to pour your heart out to someone. So as the awkward silence between them grows and Eugene scrambles for something to say, he lands on the only subject that feels safe: Rapunzel.
“She’s doing well, isn’t she?” he says, eyes drifting back over to the dance floor. “With the whole princess thing.”
“She really is,” the queen sighs. “We’re lucky, I suppose. Growing up in that tower…Well, it’s most girls’ dream, to be a princess. But it didn’t have to be hers. And it wasn’t mine.”
Eugene turns to her, surprised at the note of seriousness that has crept into her voice.
“Don’t look at me like that,” the queen says. “Of course, I love my life now. But it’s difficult, when you didn’t grow up KNOWING it’s what you were destined for. Rapunzel…well. It’s a lot to take in. She didn’t HAVE to want this.”
Eugene stares at her, and the queen turns to him, a touch of hesitation and uncertainty in her eyes.
“DOES she want this, Eugene?” she says softly.
Eugene blinks.
“I- of course, your highness. Of course she wants it.” He doesn't mention Rapunzel’s daily confusion. Or her frequent, frustrated tears. Or the procrastinating in the forest after she first left her tower. Because overall, yes, Rapunzel is happy. Even if she gets a little overwhelmed sometimes.
The queen nods.
“I’m glad she has you,” she smiles, laying a hand on Eugene’s arm.
“I-”
“Eugene!” Rapunzel is barreling towards them now, having apparently been released from her dance. Her face is flushed from activity, her eyes twinkling in the light of the chandeliers. She stops short when she sees the queen, but her excitement doesn’t waver. “Oh, mom! Did you see? I was dancing with that man over there and he was telling me that there is this balcony, here in the castle, where you can go and look out and see all of Corona. It sounds wonderful. Eugene, can we go?”
Eugene hesitates. Rapunzel is supposed to be at the party. She’s the honored guest, after all. And even though he immediately wants to take her up on this offer, the queen is standing beside him, and he’s still all too aware of the fact that she essentially holds his life in her hands.
“Oh, uh, I dunno, Blondie,” Eugene stutters. “I think you might maybe need to stay…”
“Of course, go,” the queen cuts in, smiling. “Have fun.”
Rapunzel grins and hugs her mother tightly, before grabbing Eugene’s hand and dragging him off down the hallway. He isn’t sure how she has any idea where they’re going, but before he knows it, they’re there. On a balcony on the highest floor of the castle, looking at what, Eugene can confirm, is definitely the best view in Corona. It might only be bested by the view he had from the roof, when he was stealing the crown. Admittedly, that had been pretty great too.
The city sprawls out below, and they can see all the way down to the docks, which are sprinkled with lanterns for the princess’s celebration. The forest looms dark and forbidding in the distance, and Eugene tries his best not to think about the tower, still sitting there, Rapunzel’s dark tresses splayed haphazardly on the floor.
The moonlight tickles Rapunzel’s brow and the breeze blows gently through her hair and Eugene is literally staring, how embarrassing.
“Can you believe that we’re here?” she says, leaning her elbows on the balcony railing. The sounds of the celebrations waft towards them from downstairs, but for the most part, it is quiet. It’s nice, really. To have a moment to just be them.
“Not really,” Eugene says, as he joins her at the railing.
“Two weeks ago, I was living in a tower dreaming about seeing the floating lanterns,” she sighs. “And now…”
“And now, you have an entire castle and Corona’s most wanted thief at your side.”
Rapunzel laughs. She turns to look at him, and he must have a thoughtful expression on his face, because she frowns, placing a gentle hand on his cheek.
“Are you ok?” she asks softly.
“Huh?” Eugene replies, surprised. “Of course, I’m ok. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Rapunzel looks at him closely, as if she doesn’t truly believe it. Then she sighs, lifting her hand from his cheek and turning back to look out at the view. Eugene pretends like his face doesn’t feel a little bit colder after that.
“I don’t know. I just know that this is all…a lot,” she winces.
“Blondie, I think I’m getting the easy end of the deal here,” Eugene replies, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“It IS a lot, though,” she says. “Even for me.”
“Yeah,” Eugene replies. Because she’s right. It IS a lot. A lot of duties and responsibilities and rules and new things. “But it’s good, right? Having a home?”
She doesn’t respond for a moment, but Eugene isn’t alarmed. He knows that their new situation is complicated. It isn’t like it is in the fairy tales, where everything ends with a simple happily ever after. Real life just isn’t that simple. And even when there is good, that good isn’t always untainted by bad.
“Yeah,” Rapunzel finally replies. “It’s good. It’s just new.”
She looks back out at the view of Corona, leaning her head against Eugene’s shoulder.
“Have you ever seen something so beautiful?” she sighs.
Sure, the view is beautiful. But eh, Eugene has seen it before. And he can say for a fact that it’s nothing compared to the girl that stands before him.
He smiles, his gaze focusing solely on her.
“Yes, yes I have.”
Aw, Eugene, you are such a sap.
Sappy in a way that involves some kind of royal ring?
Right. Focus.
On the fifth day, Rapunzel is the one who’s distracted.
Because she’s supposed to give some kind of royal thank you speech that night at dinner, and although she won’t technically admit it, she’s visibly terrified. She’s spoken to probably less than fifty people in the entirety of her life so far, and now she’s being asked to address a room full of a thousand strangers. She’s nervous. Really nervous. And the whispers around the castle about her impending performance certainly aren’t helping.
Eugene, on the other hand, has no real doubts about her ability to deliver this speech. Within the first few hours of leaving her tower she’d managed to deliver a very nice address about her dream to see the lights. And to a tough crowd, at that. Plus, she gives speeches to Pascal all the time. About how much she likes her new room, or how Max should be allowed to stay in the castle, or how sometimes, when Eugene kisses her, she feels weird and tingly, and what’s that all about, anyway?
Not that Eugene is listening. She’s just easy to overhear. She hasn’t had a lot of practice keeping things private.
Regardless, Rapunzel has a way with words, and you can’t help being moved by her, even when you don’t want to be. Eugene knows that tonight is the night when the whole kingdom of Corona will officially fall in love with her. He’s proud of her. And only a little bit upset that he has to share her.
She’s been pacing up and down the library floor for the last hour and a half, practicing her speech over and over again. Eugene is sitting in a chair, watching as she stumbles around mumbling to herself.
“Thank you- thank you all for such a warm welcome,” she recites, taking a deep breath. “I am so grateful for…for…” she falters, looking over at Eugene in desperation. “What am I grateful for?”
“For beautiful women and good wine?”
“EUGENE.”
“What? I’m grateful for that, at least.”
She glares at him, a hand on her hip. Alright, fair, maybe now was not the time to be sarcastic. Not that that has ever stopped Eugene before.
He stands up to take her hands.
“Rapunzel, relax. You’re gonna do fine. Just speak from your heart.”
“My heart kind of has a lot going on right now,” she says. “I don’t think what it has to say is very coherent.”
Eugene smiles.
“Well, maybe we should take a break then. Ooh! I think I smelled those cinnamon buns you like in the kitchen this morning. How's about we grab ourselves a little snack-”
“Wait a second- Eugene!” she interrupts him, gasping and hitting him in the arm. Ow. And also, darn. Because he really wanted cinnamon buns. “That’s genius! Why don’t you give one? A speech? Right now!”
She plops herself down in the chair he was just sitting in, leaving him standing there with a dumb look on his face.
“Huh?” Eugene says.
“Come on, Eugene, give a speech! It’ll inspire me!” She rests her chin in her hands and looks at him expectantly.
Eugene just stares at her.
“Look, Blondie,” he finally says. “As great as I am at charming the masses, we both know I won’t be giving any speeches anytime soon.”
“Everyone here gives speeches,” Rapunzel shrugs. “Apparently it’s important. You’ll have to give one eventually.”
Eugene doesn’t really think that he will. After all, he isn’t technically a royal, now, is he? In fact, he still isn’t sure that he’s even allowed to be here. And sure, maybe someday he WILL be a royal (he tries to ignore the butterflies in his stomach at that thought and everything that it implies) but even then, it’s not like anyone will respect him. He’s always pictured himself as something more akin to Rapunzel’s paramour. You know, the guy who gets to live it up in the lap of luxury just because the actual authority threw him a bone. And he’ll take that bone, let’s be clear. You don’t grow up an orphan without learning to count your blessings
Besides, Eugene doesn’t fancy himself much of a leader anyway. Too much lying and deception in his past. Who’s to say he won’t turn on his own men at the first mention of riches? Really, Eugene wouldn’t trust himself either.
“Well, I’m sort of the exception, don’t you think?” he responds to Rapunzel’s original comment, but she just looks confused.
“Alright, fine,” he says. He stands up straight, puffing out his chest and lacing his fingers behind his back. “Ladies and gentlemen of Corona, I’d like to thank you all for coming to celebrate the return of the great long lost Eugene Fitzherbert.”
Rapunzel giggles. Pascal covers his eyes with his hands and turns red from embarrassment.
“When Eugene was young,” Eugene continues. “He was stolen away by a life of crime, tempted into an existence on the other side of the law, DOOMED to spend a lifetime chasing dreams of riches and splendor.”
He struts back and forth across the floor, gesturing wildly. Maybe he could be into this speech thing. If he ever does have to give one. You know, in the future. Maybe.
“Little Eugene Fitzherbert didn’t have a choice, really. His current situation was…less than ideal. He knew he was meant for more. So, he chose to become a discount version of the great Flynnigan Rider. And, let’s just be clear, he was pretty darn good at it.”
Pascal rolls his eyes at this, but Eugene decides that his feedback really doesn’t hold any weight. He is a frog, after all.
“But THEN,” Eugene says, spinning around to face Rapunzel and pausing dramatically. “Eugene met a girl.”
“Ooh, ooh, Pascal, that’s me!” Rapunzel whispers.
“A CRAZY girl who hit him with a frying pan.”
Rapunzel frowns.
“In my defense, I thought he was a ruffian,” she says seriously to the frog.
“Quiet in the cheap seats,” Eugene yells, holding up a hand, and Rapunzel giggles again.
“This girl was crazy. I’m talking straight up insane. There was no other woman Eugene had ever met who had quite the same demented look in her eye.”
“EUGENE,” Rapunzel says, crossing her arms. He’s smiling now in spite of himself.
“But she was also beautiful. And smart. And very, very brave. And to the dismay of the great Flynnigan Rider…well, he started to lose a bit of his edge. To go a little bit soft, if you will.”
Rapunzel smiles proudly from across the room.
“So soft, in fact, that he agreed to take her to see some dumb floating lights. Which, like most of the things she showed him, turned out to be not so dumb. Poor Flynn was so overcome by her beauty, well…he started to turn back into Eugene Fitzherbert.”
“Aww,” Rapunzel says. Pascal still seems unimpressed.
“In the end, Eugene saved her from a tower. But, it was really more like the girl saved him from himself,” Eugene says softly. Then he clears his throat and straightens. “The end.”
He bows. Pascal and Rapunzel clap.
“That was good,” Rapunzel says seriously. “You’ll have to use it someday.”
“Uh huh, sure,” he replies. Like he’ll ever actually do that.
Rapunzel gives her speech later that night, in front of a crowd of doting admirers. She stands on the balcony overlooking the courtyard and addresses the audience with a combination of princess-like poise and quirky enthusiasm that is just so Rapunzel. She really knocks it out of the park, just as Eugene knew she would. Neither of them really remembers much else about that night, because there was simply too much to be proud of, and nothing really seemed more important than that.
Did you have it on while I was giving my speech?
Do you really think I was thinking about anything other than you? And how freaking awesome you looked giving it?
On the sixth day, it rains. And everyone takes a nap.
Well, MOSTLY everyone. It’s not like EUGENE needed a nap, oh no, he’s FINE, because this is apparently the first time Rapunzel has been able to go outside in the rain, and that obviously leaves no time for napping.
“Come ON Eugene,” she squeals, grabbing his hand and trying to pull him out of the chair he is currently relaxing in. “We have to go outside!”
“But it’s raining,” he says flatly. He gestures around the room they are currently sitting in. “And it’s so much nicer in here.”
“Inside is never nicer than outside,” she says resolutely, and Eugene thinks she’s starting to catch on to the fact that if she says something traumatic about her past he has no choice but to give in.
So, she drags him to the boats, and through the gardens, and around each and every palace courtyard, and by this point, not only does Eugene’s hair look completely ridiculous, but anything that even RESEMBLES a pillow is starting to look like heaven to him. Even Pascal looks tired, his eyes drooping lazily as he bounces along on Rapunzel’s shoulder.
“Rapunzel,” Eugene huffs, hands on his knees, after she’s just finished dragging him through the village square. “Can we please…take a break? For some of that good old snoozy style stuff?”
Rapunzel turns around to look at him. She isn’t even out of breath. How is she not out of breath? She spent 18 years in a tower, for pete’s sake. He should be in WAY better shape than her, what with all the running from the authorities. He really needs to reconsider his workout regimen.
“How can you be tired when THIS is happening?” Rapunzel says, her arms spread wide as she tips her head up towards the sky. Streams of water trickle down her nose, and her dress is soaking wet (not that Eugene has noticed or anything).
“Look, Blondie, I know running around in the rain is supposed to be romantic and all,” Eugene says, standing up and watching as she stomps through some puddles, squealing in delight. “But it’s just- the last few days have been kind of a lot…and I could REALLY use a little shut eye.”
Rapunzel frowns. She ceases her puddle stomping and looks over at him like he’s being ridiculous. But she must notice the defeated look in his eyes, because she quickly deflates. Eugene hates himself for snuffing out her positivity. But also, he’s just too tired for positivity right now. Give him an hour of rest and voila! He’ll be back, good as new.
“But…if we sleep,” Rapunzel says quietly. “Then we have to THINK about everything.”
Eugene squints at her through the falling drops.
“What do you mean?” he says, furrowing his brow.
“I mean EVERYTHING,” Rapunzel sighs. She stares down at the ground. “There’s a lot to think about. It’s why I do most of my painting at night. Too much thinking isn’t good for anyone.”
Eugene gapes at her.
“You mean to tell me you haven’t slept a full night since we got here?”
Rapunzel looks guilty, and Pascal throws Eugene a look that says, you don’t know what I’ve been dealing with.
“What?” she says, sheepishly, while he continues to stare. “I never slept much in the tower anyway. I can’t help it. Besides, when I close my eyes I just see Mother falling…and you…” she grimaces, scrunching her eyes closed.
“Hey,” Eugene says. He’s beside her now, pulling her into his arms and wiping water away from her face. “Rapunzel, it’s ok. I’m fine.”
She takes a deep breath and shudders before finally opening her eyes.
“See?” she smiles up at him sadly. “That’s why I don’t want to sleep right now.”
Eugene suddenly notices the bags under her eyes, the tired sheen on her forehead. He can’t believe that she’s managed to do this…ALL of this…on less than a full night’s sleep. Eugene is barely managing and he would consider himself decently rested.
But at the same time, she isn’t alone. It’s not like Eugene doesn’t wake up sweating some nights, clutching at his side, feeling for a wound that is no longer there. It isn’t as if he doesn’t sometimes hear her screams in his sleep, or picture her being dragged away by her mother in chains. It’s not as if Eugene really sleeps soundly. Not in the slightest. But the difference appears to be that at least he tries.
“You know what,” he says, thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it, I’ve always liked watching the ships dock in the rain.”
Rapunzel perks up.
“How about it?” Eugene smiles. “I’ll race you.”
So they race down to the docks, her hand in his, and they race through the square, and they race through the village, and when Eugene finally catches her yawn out of the corner of his eye, he casually suggests a visit to Max. The two of them fall asleep in the stables, his arms wrapped around her, Rapunzel with one foot out the door, face tipped straight up to the sky.
Maybe we lost it when we were dancing in the rain.
You mean when YOU were dancing in the rain.
Mm, I seem to remember it otherwise.
On the seventh day (the last day), Eugene DID see some jewels. Some very expensive ones, too. In fact, they were the very same jewels Eugene had stolen only two weeks ago, now sitting atop his new girlfriend’s head.
The weather that day is clear and sunny, and the celebrations have spilled out of the palace doors into the courtyard, in appreciation of the lack of rain. Today, everyone is in attendance. And Eugene really does mean everyone. There are adults and children, royals and peasants, humans and horses. Rapunzel even convinces the king and queen to let Hookhand come and play piano. It’s certainly the fanciest shindig involving ex-convicts that Eugene has ever been to.
The glint of the crown is still enticing (Eugene will never be able to fully shake the habit), and he snatches it off Rapunzel’s head teasingly. This time, he has a different motive in mind, and it’s gloriously fulfilled when she catches him, rolls her eyes, and tips him down for a kiss.
Eugene is in heaven. Really.
“How does it feel?” he asks her, when he is back on his feet. “To be wearing it?”
“Strange,” she admits. She wrinkles her nose. “But also…right? Does that make any sense?”
“Pretty much nothing makes sense to me at this point,” Eugene laughs.
“Hm,” she hums. She seems calmer today, more at home. Eugene can’t put his finger on it, but something about her being here, wearing her crown, smiling as people of all ages shower her with love and adoration…it all just finally seems to fit. And Eugene isn’t sure when exactly that happened.
Rapunzel is still pressed against his chest, and she smiles, brushing some hair away from his face.
“How does it feel being the lost princess’s special friend?” she smirks.
Eugene winces.
“Ooh, that might not be the best way to describe me, Blondie.”
“But you ARE my special friend,” she frowns.
“How about...paramour? Or, ooh, heroic companion also sounds pretty good. Something along those lines instead,” Eugene laughs, kissing her on the cheek. She giggles at his touch before laying her hands on his chest. He’s wearing his new vest today. Actually, he’s worn it all week. It seems more appropriate, after all, for a royal celebration, than the garment he was wearing when he’d robbed the place.
“So?” Rapunzel says, her eyes moving overtly between the material of Eugene’s new vest and his face.
“What?” Eugene smirks down at her. She looks adorable, standing there fiddling with the clasps of his shirt. He could get used to this.
“What do you think? About the vest?” She sounds hesitant, like she’s wanted to ask about this for a while, but wasn’t sure it was the best idea to bring it up.
“It’s nice,” Eugene admits. “I feel…good in it.”
“So you think you might be up for it, then?” she says, not meeting his eyes. “Staying here? Dating the princess?”
Eugene blinks. What is she talking about? Was that ever a part of the discussion?
He tips her chin up so that she’s looking him in the eye.
“You didn’t really think I was going to leave, did you?”
Rapunzel bites her lip.
“I don’t know…” she says, and yep, there go her eyes again, back down to stare at her bare feet. “It’s a lot to take in, and I know it’s really different from your life before, and I-”
“Rapunzel,” he stops her, placing a hand on her cheek. He hadn’t realized that this was unclear. Sure, he may have felt out of place at times. And yeah, there was that whole aspect of fearing for his life. But he’s never had any intention of leaving her. At this point, he can’t imagine a life without her.
“I’m with you,” he says. “No matter what. As long as you’ll have me.”
Rapunzel smiles, placing her hand over the one Eugene has pressed against her cheek.
“Promise?” she says softly.
“Promise,” Eugene whispers, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her lips.
It’s the first day of the celebrations that either of them truly relaxes. And perhaps the only one that they can remember somewhat clearly.
“I don’t get it,” Rapunzel whines, back in his room in the present day. “I swear, Eugene, I don’t remember a ring anywhere in there! When did my dad even give it to you?”
“Maybe it was before the celebrations,” Eugene muses. “Oh! Or maybe he really gave it to someone else!”
Rapunzel looks at him doubtfully. Then, she throws herself back down onto his bed.
“We’re dead,” she says, throwing her arm over her eyes.
“Well, it’s more like I’M dead,” Eugene corrects helpfully. “Way more dead than you.”
“Eugene!” the king’s voice booms from outside the door, and Eugene jumps. Oh no. He is so not ready to talk to the king right now and holy shit Rapunzel is in his room. Is she allowed to be in his room? Definitely not. Her eyes widen as Eugene shushes her, shoving her under his bed. He chucks the frog under there too for good measure, because he’s about as much of a giveaway as Rapunzel is at this point.
Eugene adjusts his shirt and takes a deep breath before finally throwing his bedroom door open with what he hopes is a pleasantly surprised look plastered onto his face.
“Your majesty!” Eugene says, clearing his throat. “I was just- uh…checking up on the ring. You know, to return to you and all.”
The king holds up a hand to stop whatever incoherent ramble Eugene was (100%) about to embark on.
“That’s actually why I’m here,” he says. “I found the ring. Turns out I gave it to Edgar instead. Must have been the drink, making my memories hazy. Apologies if I startled you.”
“Startled me?” Eugene laughs uncomfortably. “Don’t be silly. I knew you had it all along.”
The king squints at him.
“Eugene,” he sighs. “I think it’s time we had a talk.”
“A…A talk?”
THE talk? The one Eugene has been anticipating for the past two weeks, just lying in his room contemplating what it will be like to spend a lifetime in prison? Even though he’s technically spent days preparing for it, he still doesn’t feel ready, and he immediately starts sweating.
The king gestures down the hallway.
“Walk with me?”
“Uh…” Eugene says, but he’s already being tugged out the door by the king’s firm hand.
They walk for what feels like ages. Past the kitchens, past the library, past the servants quarters and the throne room. The king strolls through the halls with his hands behind his back, pointing out this painting and that royal artifact and this interesting piece of the castle’s architecture and Eugene really wishes he would just get to the point already and tell him whether he’s really about to die.
“Look, son,” the king finally says, stopping their (thrilling) tour and turning around to face Eugene. “I know we haven’t discussed your…history.”
“Uh, yeah, about that,” Eugene rushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know what? It really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Too many deadlines to keep track of, too much time sleeping on the floor….”
“Eugene,” the king stops him. “I understand your discomfort. And I want you to know that it’s alright. You won’t be imprisoned anytime soon.”
Eugene blinks. He isn’t sure he heard that right.
“Huh?”
“I was hoping you would understand that fact, given the lack of discussion thus far, so we could save ourselves this…awkward conversation.”
Sureeee Eugene could have just ASSUMED he wouldn’t be killed. That’s how this should have gone.
“You brought my daughter home,” the king says solemnly. “There could be no greater gift.”
Eugene is still getting over the whole ‘you won’t be imprisoned’ part of the conversation, but his heart swells a bit at this admission. He hasn’t had a lot of male role models in his life, what with the whole growing up without a father thing and then betraying pretty much everyone else he’s ever associated with. So it’s nice, in this moment. To feel like he made the king proud.
But as much as Eugene feels like he should leave this conversation alone, take the king’s compliment and move on, straight back to his perfectly adequate room and the girl that is currently stashed under his bed, there’s just one little thing that’s bothering him. And against his better judgment, he speaks up.
“With all due respect, your highness,” he says. The king’s eyebrows raise. “Rapunzel brought herself home. I just gave her a tiny bit of extra help at the end.”
There’s a moment of silence, and Eugene feels like he stops breathing for a second. But then the king smiles. He’s got a great smile. One of those really kind ones, with the crinkles around the eyes. Rapunzel must really be getting to him if he’s now started categorizing smiles.
The king places a hand on Eugene’s shoulder.
“You’re a good man, Eugene, and I trust you’ll keep trying to be one.”
Eugene nods. He will. Really.
“But if I DO ever let you borrow a ring,” the king says, a stern look in his eye. “I hope that you will safely return it.”
Eugene laughs uncomfortably, shrugging out of the king’s grasp.
“Of course,” he says. “Who needs a ring anyway?” Then he clears his throat at the king’s raised eyebrow. “I mean, besides you, sir.”
When Eugene gets back to his room, he’s lost in thought, frowning down at his shoes. So he’s not going to be killed. Huh. He really hadn’t officially entertained this notion until now. In fact, he’s kind of been operating in a weird dream world, assuming he was living on borrowed time. But now, he’s alive. For good. And he’s happy about it, for sure. But it’s just...a lot to take in.
When he opens the door to his bedroom, Rapunzel’s face is right by the doorframe, her giant green eyes staring back at him.
“Ah!” Eugene yells. “Rapunzel- You’re supposed to be under the bed!”
Rapunzel looks guilty.
“I was trying to hear what was happening. Pascal and I are very good at listening through walls, you know. But all we could hear were the maids. Did you know that Esmerelda thinks you're handsome? They really seem to think a lot of you, Eugene.”
Eugene groans, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Look, Blondie, I think we’re gonna have to start being a bit more careful. With this whole you visiting me in my room thing.”
“What do you mean?” she blinks at him. Then it dawns on her: the fact that Eugene is standing in front of her, very much alive. “Wait. Does this mean my dad isn’t going to kill you?”
Eugene grins.
“Nope,” he says. “Actually, I think your old man kind of likes me.”
Rapunzel laughs. A weird, sharp laugh that seems like a combination of happiness and relief. She wraps her arms around his neck.
“Oh, Eugene!” she says, sighing and squeezing him tight. “I didn’t want to say anything but it was really bothering me all week. Pascal and I have just been worried sick.”
Sure, the frog was worried. Eugene believes that.
Rapunzel leans back from their hug, a confused expression on her face.
“But…what happened to the ring, then?”
“He never gave it to me,” Eugene shrugs. “Looks like we were never in the wrong.”
“Huh,” Rapunzel says. “Well, that’s good. Right?”
“It is good,” Eugene says thoughtfully. But then he looks at her, standing there with her arms wrapped around his neck, in the privacy of his room, with nothing between them but Rapunzel’s purple dress and Eugene’s new leather vest. He blanches. And then he shoves her off of him.
“Except that now I’m going to have to declare that you leave my room immediately.”
“Huh?” Rapunzel blinks.
“Look, Blondie, I’ve just been given a second chance at life, and I am not about to blow it because you can’t control yourself. Now, I know I’m handsome, BORN WITH it after all, but you’re really gonna have to learn to keep it to yourself. And that means no more sneaking into my room. No more kisses behind the stables. No more hugging me in front of everyone.”
“But-”
“Ah, ah ah-” he interrupts. “I'm sorry, but this is just the way it's gotta be.”
Rapunzel frowns. But then a mischievous smile works itself across her face.
“Well, what if I want a kiss?” she says coyly, moving back towards him and trailing a hand down his chest.
“Then you will do it in a way that befits a princess dating a…” he hesitates. “...a royal suitor,” he says proudly, puffing out his chest and tugging at the collar of his shirt.
Rapunzel smiles, before she tackles him back onto his bed. And Eugene tries to push her away, he really does. But oh man. He can definitely get used to this.