Title: Fool's Gold: Part 1
Summary: Slight AU. After their near death drowning experience in the caves, Flynn Rider is slightly horrified to find that he is having the most dreaded thing of all…feelings for a magical haired girl. Feeling cornered, he finds an opportunity to make his "dream" come true by giving Rapunzel the slip to make it to his island.
Rating: T
Word Count: 4,935
Warnings: Some violence, mild language, a depressed chameleon, a murderous monkey, and rum.
Prompt: Before his transformation to Eugene, Flynn manages to give Rapunzel the slip and makes it to his island. It's not as uninhabited as he'd hoped. Hilarity ensues.
Author's Notes: This is my first Tangled fic. It was written for the Tangled Fic Exchange hosted by the wonderfully talented Airplane. I decided to add an additional day before Rapunzel's birthday/lantern event given that prompt had Flynn to sneaking away before becoming Eugene.
Pascal ended up being more in the story than originally planned. This was supposed to be a longer story, but I had to edit down to a one shot—since the muse was being finicky and my insomnia got the best of me, along with my migraines. Many thanks to my beta, Jebbypal as always!
Sprog is pirate slang for buffoon.
"I have dreams like you no really
Just much less touchy-feely
They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny
On an island that I own
Tanned and rested and alone
Surrounded by enormous piles of money!"
-Flynn Rider, I Have a Dream
Flynn Rider was unsettled, which to be honest, he rarely was. His joie de vivre never permitted him to brood for too long; besides he had places to be, things to steal, cons to pull and many woman to charm out of their precious jewels and other assets.
He was used to being cornered, thieves usually found themselves in such a position after all. Whether the cornering was being done by guards, murderous thugs or angry, cuckolded husbands; Flynn always had a plan b, a short cut, an escape. But ever since he stumbled into that tower in the middle of that glen, Flynn has watched his avenue of escape narrowing for the first time in his life.
This time his escape had been an island—not just any island, his island. But to get to that island, stealing the crown had been on his immediate list of things to do. His last hurrah so to speak before he took his extended hiatus from his criminal career by sipping on coconuts and working on his tan. However; he never expected to have his plans inconvenienced by a petite young woman, with enormous quantities of hair, wielding a frying pan and her menacing pet frog-thing. Especially since she held his stolen goods hostage until he completed the ridiculous task of taking her to see a bunch of floating lanterns.
Flynn didn't know what annoyed him more, the fact that he was bested by girl who probably didn't weigh 100 pounds wet (well, maybe her hair did) or the fact that he nearly died escaping the King's guards and his former cohorts, the Stabbington's. Next time he would be pickier about his choice of associates—some people just can't let things go, case of sour grapes and all. Oh and that horse too, that damn horse who chased him like the devil's hellhound in pursuit of his soul.
"Your dream stinks!" Ha, like viewing a bunch of lights was any better. Rolling his eyes at the memory of Hookhand's comment as he turned on his side, he found himself staring at the individual who had entered his life literally by a whack of a frying pan. His head throbbed, a dull ache in response of the painful memory. Rapunzel laid curled up, sleeping quite cozily nestled in her makeshift blanket of hair. She had even made a small pillow out of a mini mountain of her golden locks. Flynn envied her peaceful slumber. His clothes were still slightly damp from their watery near death experience in the cave which had caused him to start shivering after their campfire had died a couple of hours ago.
The moonlight gave her strands a silvery golden sheen, a gentle breeze caressed a few strands out of place, and for a moment, Flynn was taken back at how beautiful she was. Just like the first time when she walked into the light and revealed herself to him in that damnable tower.
Perversely, Flynn imagined all the ways he could warm himself up next to his sleeping companion. He thought of her slender frame, those pink lips and those damnable cute freckles dashed about her face or those green eyes, big and trusting—
"For the record, I like Eugene Fitzherbert better than Flynn Rider."
Damn! There it was. That was the crux of his sleepless night. The memory of the warmth of acceptance that had filled him when Rapunzel said those simple words sent Flynn into a panic afterwards. The endearing way she scooted closer to him to hear his sad little story of growing up as an orphan boy dreaming of bigger things left him vulnerable, and the part of himself that Flynn had locked away years ago was poking it's no-good trusting head out. Damn Eugene. When she told him the reason why she never left the tower and how she considered going back, Eugene wanted to take her in his arms and…and….
No! No! Not going to happen, buddy! Flynn told his alter ego. It was bad enough he let the loser get so far by telling her his name and getting all emotional. Bah! Flynn Rider did not do any of this touchy feely crap. And no, he wasn't crazy because he was thinking about himself in third person. Crazy and extremely good looking did not go together.
Maybe the hair had done something to him after all. Flynn's eyes widened at the thought.
A tiny growl distracted Flynn from his inner identity crisis. There was a slight movement underneath a second mini-pile of hair next to Rapunzel, and a second later, Flynn's gaze met with that of the thing-creature, Pascal. The chameleon stuck out its tongue at the insult, glaring at the thief almost as if he was able to read Flynn's mind. He returned the scowl back and mouthed to the annoying reptile, "Bite me."
Pascal hissed back, narrowing his beady little eyes—the reflection of the moon made them gleam disturbingly in the night. Flynn could tell it had turned a slight shade of red. It retorted back with a shrill chirp. Then the thing did the most unnerving thing it could do, it smiled at Flynn. Just like it did when they had first reached the riverbank and Flynn had almost freaked out that Goldie had hair that glowed. The same little smirk it wore when watching as Rapunzel healed his hand.
A smile that said, "You are clever and amazingly handsome, but I am a genius and you are so owned. Just wait and see." At the end of this, a sinister chuckle had followed.
The thing didn't actually say that, but Flynn was pretty sure it would have if chameleons could talk. He shot Pascal one last dirty look before he turned over on his other side, his mind still not eased. If he were the fanciful sort, he would probably be feeling his heart tugging in the direction of those sad, green eyes. His inner Eugene sighed.
Flynn shook his head. He was crazy. He had spent the last few minutes locked into a scowling contest with a reptile.
Maybe it was the fact that he nearly almost died a few hours ago or that he had spent most of the night in a mind battle with his second identity, in the end, being threatened by a frog was the last deciding factor. Eugene was going back in his box along with his crazy feelings and ideas. He was Flynn Rider, damnit and he had dream!
At the first light of dawn, Flynn blearily opened his eyes, and then jumped up as he remembered his decision from last night. He winced at the protests of his still sleeping muscles protested. He didn't have much time to waste; the plan was to be gone before Blondie woke up and got a chance to stare up at him with those eager, green eyes and change his mind.
Not that she could. Nope. He was made of stronger stuff than to fall for predictable feminine wiles.
Flynn yawned and rubbed his hands over his eyes. He touched his newly-healed hand and couldn't stop being amazed at the unblemished skin. Magic hair, huh? Who would have thought?
His hand dropped onto his satchel, but it landed on air before he remembered that it was still being held in the tower. Pushing back a wave of irritation at his predicament, he glanced over to make sure Rapunzel was still asleep. The gentle fall and rise of her form indicated she slept soundly. Her dark lashes fluttered briefly and Flynn froze.
False alarm – her eyes moved rapidly beneath her lids; briefly, he wondered if she was dreaming.
Again, there was a nagging prickly feeling that was probably his conscience. She would be alright. The girl was bright and resourceful, plus she had that wicked frying pan. So she was locked in a tower her whole life by an overbearing mother. Which made her innocent and too curious for her own good and people would take advantage of that. Thieves and thugs…
Flynn forced himself to stop. He couldn't be responsible for some girl, even if she was pretty and was maybe growing on him. With a regretful sigh, he kneeled down and gently brushed back a loose strand of hair from her face. "I am sorry, Goldie. I..I am sorry. I hope you find your dream."
Walking away, Flynn didn't look back as he found the trail in the woods that would lead into the kingdom. Eugene would have looked back, but he wasn't Eugene Fitzherbert. He hadn't been for a very long time. It didn't escape his notice that he had to keep reminding himself of that very fact. He pushed forward, his boots stepping quietly onto the dewy path to his freedom.
One of the lessons he learned in his thieving field was never to do extra work when you could get others to do it for you. Sometimes this could back-fire, Flynn learned, like with the Stabbingtons. After all, people didn't like to be used and then discarded. But really, while he could have stolen the ship on his own , he couldn't operate it by himself. Well, he could, but did he really want to?
Nope.
However, as he made his way to the docks, he found it was a good thing he'd lost his most recent companion. The patrol had doubled since his theft of the crown, plus with the preparations for the festival mourning/celebrating the lost princess, the guards were now on high alert for any mischief afoot. Especially mischief with any blonde, green-eyed girls, since many a con artist had tried passing off girls as the lost princess in the past. And all had failed miserably.
All the more reason to deal with shiny equity that could be sold on the black market (without talking back), and thus making it harder to trace back. Girls were too much trouble anyway, especially blondes with green eyes and pet chameleons.
He got to the docks without a hitch, with one exception. Girls held grudges. He had forgotten that until the blade of a very sharp sword nicked the skin at his throat. "Rider," hissed an angry female.
"Hey, Thereasa, babe,long time no see! Whoa, watch it, not near the face, that's where the magic happens," Flynn grimaced at the Captain of the Marigold. The Marigold tried to pass itself off as respectable trader vessel, but underneath all the gloss and shine, it was all a front for the ship's sweet trading ventures. Piracy was at an all time high, however; most pirates avoided using Corona as a port. Unless they carried "papers" that could fool the guards into thinking they were legit and charm them into not asking too many questions.
Theresa Maria Consuela del Calderon was one of those charismatic pirates and the current captain of the Marigold. She was a tall young woman hailing from the southern countries, dark skinned, full lips with curly brunette hair that was almost a shade from being ebony. Dark eyes flashed at Flynn as he smiled at her, despite his perilous situation.
"I have waited a long time to your face, again, Rider."
Flynn shrugged, still managing to smile, winked at her, "Naturally, of course. It's irresistible."
In general, Flynn avoided pirates, they were a disgruntled lot and they tended to smell bad—like the pub thugs at the Duckling. He especially avoided pirates who he had charmed in the past (and who were exception to the smelly rule). Also, he had a rule about avoiding those he may have stolen from, yeah; pirates don't take too kindly to that. Despite the irony in the situation, Flynn totally got it, he wouldn't like that either. Not that he ever let anyone steal from him.
Except Blondie.
He frowned at the persistence of her name in his thoughts. Flynn forced his mind to focus on his imminent death. Yet again. It was a good thing this would be a thing of the past once he was on his island.
The sword pressed harder for a moment at his neck before the pressure at his neck dropped down to between his legs. Flynn's eyebrows rose up in disbelief, "Now that is just mean, Theresa!"
Theresa Maria smirked—pushing the cutlass in further, "That's Captain to you, squiffy!"
Flynn squirmed as he tried to shift away from the steel blade at his nether parts. "Name-calling now, I thought we were past this…hey ow, that hurts! Easy now, look we are both professionals, right? Let's make a deal. Help each other out."
The captain of the Marigold scoffed, "Now why would I trust the likes of you, after last time?"
Flynn pointed to his face, "Irresistible, remember. "He tried the smolder, which was quite a feat considering his man parts were in grave danger. The look required extra concentration, it was serious business
"What the devil is wrong with him," asked one of the crew mates, a large bald headed, Theresa called John. "His face is all funny."
Flynn felt his smolder sizzle out. Blondie must have jinxed him and single-handedly broken his smolder.
Theresa laughed, "I always thought he was a bit soft. In more ways than one."
"Lies," Flynn exclaimed and he narrowed his eyes, "Is all this necessary?"
Theresa Maria shrugged, "Be thankful I am in a good mood at the moment, thief."
"That's the pot calling the kettle, eh," Flynn pointed at her, "It's not like you are really a lady—easy, easy! Look, do you want to hear my deal or not? "
Sometimes the past came to bite you in the ass. It had a tendency to happen in his profession quite a bit, which was why he presently found himself on the verge of being walked off into the ocean and a cutlass in groin again He offered a deal for transport in exchange for a portion of his stash of gold on the island. They had been sailing for a good couple of hours before the Marigold's captain and crew had turned on their paying passenger.
Flynn said. "Not this again. Can't you point that elsewhere."
"I find it amusing."
Flynn argued back,"We had a deal! Don't you all have a code?"
"Of course, yes, we did…except the part where I lied and you believed me. Life has an uncanny way of reaping what you sow, Rider," Theresa Maria said gleefully, "I really can't believe you fell for it. You are usually better than this. So very disappointing in a way, right, boys? "
The crew of the Marigold shouted in agreement. "Make him walk!"
Flynn sighed. She was right. It had been too easy to convince the captain of the Marigold to take the deal.
"So this is what comes down to, after all the times we've had," Flynn said before another sharp poke interrupted him, "OW. That is a very delicate area!"
"You stole from me!"
"That was what, five years ago? Technically I stole from your father. You should really let that go, Theresa, grudges aren't healthy. You get all wrinkly with the frowning. And a woman like yourself out in the sun," Flynn paused and pointed to her forehead, "needs to take care of her complexion."
"Shut up! My father trusted you…"
Flynn grinned, "Now see, I didn't hear you complaining…"
Theresa Marie scowled at him, "I have a very long memory, Rider. You didn't think you could charm your way out of this, did you?"
"I stick to my strengths," Flynn shrugged, "it worked before. Why fix what isn't broken, eh?"
"We live by a code, Rider. And I have bided my time waiting for the right moment to repay you."
His stomach lurched as ship rocked against the waves, but he managed to keep both his balance and the small breakfast he had pilfered on his way to the shipping docks.
Another reason to avoid pirates, the whole being on a ship business made for a bad case of seasickness. "Ah, yes, the code. You know what I never understood that, being a pirate and having rules. I think that's why I prefer thieving on land."
"We know why you prefer land, coward," the Captain of Marigold sniggered, "You were always the eternal sprog. Now as much as I would enjoy chatting, I think it's time you start walking."
Flynn held up his hands, "Now look, can't we parley or whatever it is you call it? You can't just drop me in the middle of the ocean. We aren't even close to the coordinates… Have a heart."
The sea air whipped the captain's hair to match her fury, "Our parley ended the minute you thought I would help get you to your bloody island. As much as I would enjoy returning you to Corona so you could dance the hempen jig for your crimes making you walk the plank is much more amusing. I hope you can swim."
"Oh stop being melodramatic…and isn't that a double standard, you are a pirate!" The words died on his lips as the crew of the Marigold pointed their cutlasses and pistols in his direction. "Really? Fine." Damn pirates.
Flynn jumped on the plank. Faintly in the distance he spotted the gleaming sandy shores of an abandoned island. He restrained a smile. "Well, I guess it will have to do. You know, if I get eaten by cannibals, it will be your fault. Don't cry for me too much."
Theresa Maria smiled, "Cannibals are the least of your worries, sharks on the other hand. Well, at least you aren't bleeding…yet." She whistled up at the mainmast of the ship; in response, a furry dark form scurried down. It screeched as it moved down to the port's floor and up on the plank.
Flynn stared in shock as the monkey wearing a tiny greatcoat climbed around his leg and in one quick movement slashed a dagger across his pant leg. Before he could kick the thing away, it ran away to perch itself on the captain's shoulder. As the sting of the cut set in, Flynn's open mouth snapped shut and yelped, "You bitch!"
The monkey stuck out its tongue at Flynn and gleefully laughed. Theresa Maria laughed, "Well now, I hope you are fast swimmer, Flynn." She petted the monkey's head and cooed, "That's a good girl, Dolly."
"Now walk, you have until the count of three, Rider. Or you won't have to worry about the sharks after all. One…"
Flynn hated getting wet, especially ocean water, it played havoc with his hair. He sighed, well, things couldn't be worse, right? He had been in tighter corners before. Something wiggled in his vest pocket, drawing his attention downwards just as Theresa Maria said two. Flynn frowned as he felt the movement again. "What the hell?" His hand dug in the pocket and dragged the stowaway out by its green tail.
"YOU!"
Pascal turned a dark red as he stuck out his tongue and poked Flynn in the eye.
"Ah!" Flynn yelled along with Pascal as he lost his balance and fell into the ocean's embrace.
"Three," Theresa Maria peered overboard with the Marigold's crew. Dolly clapped her hands in delight and chattered happily on her shoulder. The captain smiled, "I know, wasn't that fun, my dear girl?"
Paradise did not receive Flynn Rider well as he washed up ashore.
His face felt like he was lying on sandpaper. Salt clung to his lips and was even gritted on his teeth and hair. The wound on his leg stung fiercely and throbbed in protest of the swimming required to get to the island. Distances were deceiving and he might have dozed off the moment he felt land between his fingers. Something cold and wet stuck itself in his ear; forcing Flynn to open his eyes to find Pascal defiantly sticking his long pink tongue in his ear canal. "Ahh!"
Pascal squeaked, letting go, and quickly moved away enough to avoid being slapped away. He growled at the thief, lifting his little paws into little fists.
"YOU, what are you doing here! How did you…oh you are so evil! You are supposed to be with Goldie!"
Pascal chirped angrily in reply and pointed to Flynn and then back out to the sea.
"No, you are supposed to be with her! I mean, she needs...someone. She's going to be upset when you're not there. She's…going to be alone." Flynn didn't like the uncomfortable dip his stomach took at the thought.
Pascal turned blue at the thought and hiccupped a little cry of distress.
"You…I…damnit. Fucking hell, I can't believe I am talking to a frog." Flynn sighed, shaking his head, "You don't get it, she-deserves someone better. And you know, I had a dream too and she just came out of nowhere…"
Pascal rolled his eyes and gave him a disbelieving look.
"Ok, so technically, I came out of nowhere, but that's not the point."
The chameleon croaked back, nodding his head that yes, it was the point.
"Okay, so we have established that I'm a selfish bastard. Now the point is that you can go back over there with her. However that maybe, and stay the hell away from me." He drew line across the sand with toe, "See this line? You don't cross it."
Flynn walked away, grinning because his plan had worked, despite some minor setbacks, bruises and an unwanted lizard. Because he had purposely misled the crew of the Marigold by giving them the wrong coordinates. He had suspected that Theresa Maria would still be sore after their dalliance many years ago—so he knew she would want to pull off a stunt like this. However, Flynn knew she wasn't heartless enough to drop him in the middle of ocean without there being a way to swim ashore and survive on his own merit. Pirates were funny that way, with their damn codes like badges of honor.
Expect the unexpected. Always have a backup plan. In this case, it turned out pretty damn well. Flynn whistled and chanced a glance behind. Pascal sat in the sand, all blue and pathetic, staring out into the ocean in direction of Corona, mourning the presence of his owner who was half a day's sail away.
A twinge of regret pushed its way to the surface. Sighing, Flynn turned and walked back to depressed lizard. If he hadn't left, it never would have followed him. So maybe, he owed the little guy, just this once. Beside, nobody was around to see this very Eugene-like moment. "I can't believe I am doing this. Hey, Pascal."
Pascal sniffed sadly in response and if Flynn didn't know any better he could swear the thing was crying.
Flynn crossed his arms. "So look, we are here now, may as well make the best of it. Goldie… wouldn't want you to be sad. Come on, you can hang with me. Rules are pretty much no tongue sticking in my ears, eyes etc."
Pascal chirped and nodded back to the ocean. He shifted into the exact shade of purple of Rapunzel's dress.
Flynn felt that bothersome vulnerability peek out for a minute, more he squashed it back down. "She will be fine. I am sure Blondie—look she's a smart girl, right?"
Pascal nodded in agreement.
"So, nothing to worry about, right," Flynn kneeled down to the chameleon's level, his palm extended out in peace. Pascal looked at Flynn dubiously, sighed (yes, this lizard sighed) and scampered onto the thief's hand. Flynn returned the chameleon to its original hiding place in his vest pocket. Now if he remembered correctly, his hut should be westward from the beach. And not too far from it was the loot he had stolen five years ago from Ana Maria's father. Flynn Rider resumed his whistling of I have a dream as he walked in direction of his new home. He would find a way to build his own castle. He was nothing if resourceful.
"You are going to love it here. I scouted this place a long while ago. We might even find you a girlfriend, eh? A nice lady lizard."
3 hours later…
After getting lost for the better part of the remaining day, his feet sore and blistered from the heat of the sand, and stumbling into a crab pit, which lead to getting pinched and poked in all the wrong places, Flynn Rider was beginning to think that maybe living on an island was overrated.
But the deciding factor would have to have been when he went to cool his feet in the ocean, only to step on a jellyfish. The jellyfish and Flynn were not amused, not one bit. There was a very shrill shriek of pain that carried through the small island. Now not only his leg stung from the wound inflicted by that treacherous fur ball, but his foot ached as well, slowing his progress considerably.
Worse, when they found hiding spot of the chest of gold he had stolen from Captain Roberto five years ago, it had been empty. After a fifteen minutes of cursing, which briefly made Pascal blush a pinkish red, Flynn came to acceptance. What could he do with all that gold besides probably throw up it in the air and dance around it? Not like he could buy anything with it on the damn island, which would be first. Thieves were after all, thieves. Flynn always tried to work with what he had or go steal something better if it wasn't, but at least he had his island.
Even if it meant for the gold to be gone meant that someone had been on the island at some point in time Yet he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that they were being watched.
The sun beat down fiercely on the small island; the humidity had to be one of the most unpleasant things that Flynn had chance to experience in his life. Sweating was not an attractive look for him. Sweat dripped everywhere, re-awakening his stinging wounds with fresh salt. Half an hour ago, he had shrugged off his shirt and vest. Pascal traveled comfortably on top of his head. He was glad there would be no witnesses to this event. The chameleon still wore the color purple, which he suspected was intended to make Flynn feel guilty.
They found relief beneath the shade of the crowded meadow of palm trees. A few feet away, he managed to make out the frame of the hut. "Yes, see, I told you we were close." Flynn ignored the fact that he had said this an hour ago.
As they neared, he saw that the hut was more run down than he remembered. The roof had almost completely been caved in from storms. "It.. just needs a little care."
Pascal climbed down from his perch on his head and studied the shelter in detail.
"So what to do you think, homey, eh?" The moment Flynn said that, the rest of the palmed roof collapsed as a cool breeze filtered through the trees. The lizard looked at Flynn, waited a beat and shook his head. "Oh come on, it's a fixer upper. At least it's not going to rain anytime soon," he said confidently. In the distance, thunder rumbled as ominous clouds rolled towards the island.
Pascal stared at the sky and then looked at Flynn again, his expression dubious.
Flynn growled in annoyance. "Look, I know what you are trying say, and-I have my own island to myself. My own hut, kind of. My own beach! All to myself. Alone. With my treasure, which is stolen, but I have other stuff hidden around here somewhere, which I don't remember at the moment, but I WILL eventually. "
Pascal chirped, rolling his eyes.
The realization hit him as he said it, "Oh God, I am just like Blondie," Flynn face palmed his face, "I am stuck here, alone, talking to you! You are not even human!" Maybe the hair healing really had induced a temporary insanity. Since when had he ever plotted such an ill-prepared getaway? The old Flynn would have scouted the place first, stocked up on supplies, maybe persuaded a pretty brunette or two to come along for company. Instead, he had been bruised, stabbed, nearly drowned, and attacked by scorned pirate queens and Mother Nature . And all this trouble for what? Just because he was afraid of warm, fuzzy feelings for a young woman he met two days ago?
Pascal hissed and squeaked in his direction, but he wasn't paying attention to the chameleon.
"Ok, ok, so maybe this isn't the best dream on execution. Can you quit it, I get it. This was not my best idea." Flynn heard a whistling sound before he felt a pinch on his neck. "Ow." Moving his hands to his neck he discovered a dart. His vision blurred as he pulled the dart out, was that a monkey? Why was the monkey holding a coconut? Coconuts were quite delicious, he was very hungry. With a crack against his skull, the small mammal sent him on his way to oblivion.
TBC in Part 2