Title: The Ancient History of Solaris
Author: Sache8
Fandom: Tangled
Pairing: Rapunzel/Eugene
Word Count: 28,000
Rating/Warnings: Teen, one brief scene of mild torture (cutting, burning)
Beta: Grav
Summary: When Eugene is kidnapped, Rapunzel rushes off to save him. Turns out, Mother Gothel wasn't the only one who knew about the sun's gift.
Chapter One
It all began when Eugene fell through the floor. The same day that Rapunzel finally worked up the nerve to return to the tower, he found a way to keep her coming back indefinitely.
"This was here the whole time?"
Rapunzel was tying her hair back with a kerchief. Her hair was just past her shoulders now. Finishing with the knot, she tugged it firmly and handed a second kerchief to her friend Griet. "Yes."
Griet, who had been Rapunzel's lady-in-waiting since her third week in the palace, looked around, impressed. "And just think," she said, "all that time you were just itching for something new to read."
Rapunzel laughed. "Come on. The lanterns on the walls still work, but most of them need oil. We'll get them lit and then we can get started."
After briefly demonstrating for Griet how the antiquated lanterns functioned, Rapunzel rolled up her sleeves and got to work, reflecting on the events that had brought her to this morning's agenda.
It was supposed to be a peace-making journey—one final visit to her childhood home to lay her past to rest and look to the future unencumbered. However unjust and chafing her confinement to the tower had been, Rapunzel had been happy there. She had been ill at ease for over a year, thinking about the disarray in which she and Eugene had left the place: the blood and broken mirror, Mother Gothel's clothing and other remains left unattended at the base. She would have no real rest until she could stop thinking about it.
Under the guise of a private hunting trip, she and Eugene and her parents had traveled to the tower and passed a somber day accomplishing all that Rapunzel wanted in the way of closure. They cleaned the tower, buried what they could salvage of Gothel's remains (mostly what little of her clothing had not been absconded by the birds), and gathered those mementos of Rapunzel's childhood she wished to take back with her to the palace. Her father had been keen to take the walls themselves for the sake of the paintings, but Rapunzel managed to satiate him with a small crate of works on canvas that were stored up in the rafters.
Finally, they made ready to leave. As they were making their final descent down the rickety wooden staircase— so steep it might as well have been a ladder— Eugene slipped and fell the last few feet to the floor, and then the half-rotten floorboards gave way and he fell through those too.
After a heart-stopping moment in which they determined him to be winded, but alive, the soldiers lowered themselves into the dark subterranean room to pull him out again. In the process got a better look at what was down there.
It was a library.
Rapunzel wasn't sure that was its primary purpose, but that was certainly part of it. The long, low room was roughly hewn from the clay and stone beneath the tower, with much of the tower's heavy foundation giving it support and structure. Wooden shelves and cases lined the walls, all heavily-oiled to protect against the damp air from the river nearby. Each of the shelves and cubbies were bursting with dusty scrolls and volumes.
For Rapunzel, it had been like finding some secret lost city. And she had been on top of it the entire time.
Griet managed to get the last lamp working in the main chamber and promptly sneezed, as if to celebrate the occasion. "Okay, that's done. Now what?"
Rapunzel tossed her a can of furniture polish and a rag. "Now, we clean." Her eyes lit up and she smiled widely. "And if we finish early enough, we start cataloguing."
Griet looked at the can of polish dubiously. "You do realize it's a lovely, not-too-hot, sunny autumn day out there, don't you? You want to stay down here in this musty cellar cataloguing books?"
"And scrolls," Rapunzel defended.
"I'm just saying, for someone who spent eighteen years indoors, it's odd to me that you want to be in here."
Rapunzel glanced down at her own can of polish, torn. "I know, I know, but— I just can't let this go, Griet. There are still so many unanswered questions, and I think this place might hold the answers."
"Answers to what?"
"Who built this tower, and why? How did Gothel know about the sun's gift? How did she know the song? I know who I am now and I'm still not satisfied about my past. Anyway, you don't think it's at all exciting?"
"Sure. For a baking hot day in midsummer when a place like this would be a relief."
"You're right. I'm sorry, Griet. I'm going to stay, but you're welcome to go enjoy the beautiful day if you like. Maximus can see me safely back to the palace."
"You know it doesn't work like that, Your Highness. You're the Princess. If you say we're going to spend the day polishing bookcases, then bookcases it is. Only there's just one slight problem."
"What's that?"
"I, um, have never polished anything before."
"Really?"
"At some point you are going to have to stop being surprised. I'm the daughter of a baron. Other people polish my furniture."
"Yes. Of course. Well, it's easy. I'll show you."
She gave her friend a brief tutorial in the correct method of dusting and polishing the furniture—in this case taking special care to avoid damaging the books and scrolls— and the two girls set to work again. They chatted every so often, but there were gaps of companionable silence too. Before long, Rapunzel found herself humming.
"You miss him, don't you?"
Rapunzel halted, and then flushed. "It's only been a day."
"But you still miss him."
"Yes. But I'm worried about him."
"He's your fiancé. He needs to prove himself worthy of being a prince." Griet's tone was one of absolute conviction. As affable as she was, she still clung to skepticism about one Eugene Fitzherbert's appropriateness for the role of consort to the princess. "Making him the ambassador to Talvania was a good choice on your father's part."
Through her nerves, Rapunzel couldn't help but giggle. "Ambassador Eugene." She shook her head. "Oh, how can he help but get in trouble?" She sighed, and shook her head, choosing to focus on clearing ancient dust from ancient bookshelves, and try not to worry too much about what— and whom— she could not control.
The problem was Eugene did not understand hand signals in Chameleon.
"This is all your fault," he said to Pascal reprovingly. "I knew we should have taken the northern road."
Pascal gave him a Look, which Eugene chose to ignore. Instead, he turned back to the fork in the road and scratched his head.
"Sir?"
Eugene winced. The palace guards had been calling him by this honorific for over a year now, and he still wasn't used to it. "Connelly, I told you. Drop the 'sir'. Especially out here in the middle of nowhere. You won't get in trouble, I promise."
"Yes, sir."
"What is it?"
"Aren't you from Talvania?"
"Technically, yes. But I haven't been back in a long time."
He hadn't been back since he'd run away at the age of sixteen. It wasn't prudent, after all, to set up a new life, a new name, and a new profession in a place where too many people knew all of the real ones.
"All right. My keen sense of direction is telling me we are way too far south. Let's go this way." He gestured to the right fork.
He mounted the patient, somewhat vapid horse they had provided. Eugene missed Max. Journeys from one kingdom to another were long and grueling, and riding Max was nonstop entertainment. Had the king been the pompous sort, not even he could have managed as much brittle condescension as that horse. Max's every movement seemed to scream reminders that Eugene, former enemy of the state, was receiving the utmost in magnanimous treatment. Naturally, Eugene could not resist the temptation to provoke his friend's sensibilities. This often resulted in a bruised tailbone or a really terrible haircut, but he wouldn't give it up for the world.
Unfortunately, Max had lately met Sylvia, a pretty gray mare who was a favorite of the queen, and then Sylvia had been discovered to be in a delicate condition, and now Max was no fun whatsoever. He had flatly refused to come with Eugene on this trip. So Eugene was stuck with a dull, docile beast named Nigellus… and Pascal.
"What is it?" He asked. The croaker was croaking at him emphatically. "No, we're not going that way. I listened to you last time—heaven only knows why— and look where it's gotten us! What do you know about geography, anyway? You were born, what, three feet from Rapunzel's tower?"
Pascal glared and turned a burnt orange color.
"Hue at me all you like. You're wasting your pigment."
Eugene spurred Nigellus forward on the chosen route. Truth be told, he wasn't too disappointed about the delays in their journey. There were a number of very specific reasons that Eugene Fitzherbert did not want to be on this trip.
One: He had to be apart from Rapunzel.
Two: He might screw everything up and Rapunzel's parents would decide he needed to be elsewhere permanently.
Three: It was… well, home.
"I don't suppose you ever had to go back and visit the land of your birth after a long, self-imposed exile, did you?" he asked Pascal.
Pascal crossed his forelegs and looked away.
"Fine. I'll just talk. I mean, going home would be one thing. But so publicly? Expected to do an important job like this? That's no fun. It is, in fact, quite nerve-wracking." He looked down at his right hand, where his finger chafed at the weight of a heavy, embossed ring bearing the royal seal of Corona. It was a mark of his new position. Funny to think two years ago he might have considered trying to steal it.
"You'll do fine, sir."
Twisting around, Eugene saw that Connelly was riding dutifully some distance behind. Connelly shrugged. "It's okay. Most people forget I'm around. I would probably talk to the lizard too."
"Chameleon," said Eugene automatically as he turned to face forward again. Then he winced. Pascal smirked.
"You miss the princess, don't you?"
"It's only been a day."
"It's okay. I miss her too."
Eugene's eyebrows rose and he half-turned to give the man a bit closer scrutiny. "You do, do you?"
"Yes."
There was nothing but fresh-faced sincerity in the young guard's expression. He certainly seemed oblivious to the cautious suspicion that Eugene was throwing at him.
Mollified, Eugene lowered his shoulders. How could he blame the man, after all? The entire kingdom was enamored of their Princess. Eugene was only the first in a very long line of people to be taken in by Rapunzel's bright, effervescent passion and her honest kindness.
It had changed him.
He was well and truly changed.
Changed as if a panther had transformed into a kitten. Changed like a hurricane calming to a pleasant headwind. He really should have had the professional dignity to be more annoyed about it. He would have to think of new ways to get his revenge on her. Already he'd taught her how to pick locks. Naturally, she was quite good at it.
The afternoon waned, warm for early September, and Eugene began to find himself nodding off in the saddle. This was bad for travel, because Nigellus seemed to think it was cause to stop and philosophize about rocks along the path or stray branches overhead. Connelly kept hastening his own horse forward and prodding both of them awake.
By the time the sun began to set, Eugene knew that the new tactic was not going to earn them as much progress as he'd hoped, but his patience was finally rewarded when they reached the boundary marker between Corona and Talvania.
"Hah!" he said to the chameleon, pointing at it in triumph. "I got us this far, now didn't I?"
Eugene studied the forest road on the other side of the marker, sobering. It looked more or less exactly like the stretch of forest on the Corona side. Funny, how much a wooden pole and a board could mean to a man. He took a deep breath and dismounted Nigellus. Tentatively, he put one booted foot over the line and into his homeland. He waited, wondering if something might explode or fanfare or perhaps stir ominously. Nothing happened except the growling of someone's stomach.
Connelly was looking between Eugene and the boundary marker apologetically. "We haven't eaten since midday," he said. "Should we make camp for the night?"
"Just a little further," Eugene urged. "I'd just as soon have someone else cook our food tonight."
Darkness began to fall as they hastened onward. By the time they cantered into the border village, only a ribbon of light was left on the western horizon, and that was only sometimes visible through the thick trees and undergrowth of the forest.
Eugene pulled a heaving Nigellus to a stop and considered their options. There were two taverns. It wasn't likely he'd ever been to either of them. He'd spent most of his childhood in Talvania's capital city, and fled for Corona from a completely different direction.
"Let's try the Broken Harp," he said, eyeing the faded tavern signs. Of the two, the Broken Harp looked far more lively, and the light pouring from the windows beckoned with warm invitation. Despite, his larger trepidation, Eugene was grinning as his feet hit the ground. The capital city, Tallus, was still at least two days' ride from here and he hadn't gotten to eat without silverware in over a year.
When Connelly dismounted, Eugene handed him Nigellus' reins. "I'll go get some rooms and stable space for the horses." He took two steps toward the tavern door and stopped up short. "Oh, and Connelly?"
"Yes, sir."
"Um, could we pretend we're just normal guys in there? You know, not tell them we're ambassadors and whatnot?"
Connelly frowned "But I'm not an ambassador."
If Max had been there, Eugene would not have been able to resist giving him a longsuffering look. "I know that. You know what I mean. You can still be Connelly, but I don't want you to call me Eugene. Or 'sir'," he added hastily. "Or 'ambassador'"
"What should I call you?"
Taking off his ring and putting it his pocket, Eugene grinned.
Rapunzel and Griet worked until their shoulders ached and all their food stash was gone. The afternoon was in its death throes when the lady-in-waiting finally insisted that they climb out of from underground and rendezvous with their escort.
"Soon they'll come looking for you, and anyway, I want you back home with enough time to clean off all that grime." Griet looked with distaste at the thin film of dust and dried sweat on Rapunzel's face and hands, then examined her own contribution with even more dislike. She paid special attention to the grit under her fingernails. "Ugh," she added.
"All right," Rapunzel conceded. She looked around. They place looked much nicer and even smelled a bit less musty, though she, for one, would have been loath to completely banish that wonderful smell of old things long forgotten, waiting to be rediscovered.
"When will we be returning? Next spring, I hope?"
Rapunzel wrinkled her nose at her friend. "Of course not, silly. In a few days, I hope. But I have a full day of lessons tomorrow."
"Thank goodness. What's on the agenda?"
"History. Politics. Elocution. Dancing."
"Excellent."
Rapunzel wandered over to the largest bookcase and ran a hand over the heavy volumes. The biggest was so huge, that standing it would likely reach her knees, and she could barely span the width of it with the full spread of her fingers. The heavy leather that bound it had been dyed a bold red, that once might have been quite bright, but time had faded into a darker, blackish red, like a garnet.
It was too important and mysterious to resist.
"Help me with this," she said, calling out to Griet. "I want to take it with us."
To her credit, Griet did not complain. Much. It took the combined efforts of both girls to get the tome— it almost seemed insufficient to dub the thing a mere book— out the door and up the ladder. This much accomplished, they brought their horses over, and Rapunzel managed to hold it awkwardly in her lap with one arm until they reunited with the palace guard who had been patrolling the area around the tower all day. For once, she was only too happy to be the princess and let them do the heavy lifting.
Eugene's absence was sorely felt when they finally arrived back at the palace. By that time, Rapunzel was ready to keel over with sleep, and it was all that Griet and Hannah, Rapunzel's personal maid, could do to get her washed, get some food in her, and get her into bed. Even through her stupor, her mind focused on two things— the big red book, which had been taken to her room and set up on a sturdy pedestal next to her desk, and the fact that she missed her usual goodnight kiss from Eugene so very much.
She only slept for about two hours. Then her eyes snapped open. She gasped slightly and looked immediately over at the book, which sat innocuously next to the bed, right where she left it, somehow more mysterious and irresistible with the moonlight streaming through the glass double doors of her balcony to rest on its cover.
Rapunzel scrambled out of bed and padded across the rugs and flagstones of her chamber in her bare feet to stand before the book. Reverently, she brushed her hand over the cover. There was a symbol embossed into the center, a symbol that bore a strong resemblance to the royal sun of Corona. Rapunzel bit her lip and glanced around, checking to see that no one was still stirring who might disrupt (and then scold) her. But for the usual palace draft, nothing stirred. The fire was expertly stoked, meaning even Hannah had taken leave of her duties and gone to her own chamber a couple of levels below.
Rapunzel took the candelabra from the desk and took it over to the lamp on the wall, lighting all the candles and brought it back to the desk. She got a shawl, some slippers, and a ribbon to tie her hair back. Then she pulled her chair close and slowly, carefully, opened the cover.
"Oh, bother."
Even though she knew Pascal was miles away helping Eugene, she addressed him out of a lifetime of habit. He was still her favorite confidant, no matter where he happened to be.
"I can't read this, Pascal."
A/N: This is my first "Tangled" fic. And guess what! It's actually completely written and betaed, so I'll be updating quite regularly. This fic was written as part of the HetBigBang 2011 challenge at livejournal. Go check out the website at hetbigbang(dot)weebly(dot)com. There's artwork too, including three illustrations from this story, two of which are from this very chapter!
This story sort of comprises a story I came up with to answer all of my storyteller's nosy questions after the movie. I wanted to keep myself uninfluenced by any popular trends in the fandom, so I haven't actually read much Tangled fanfic (and none at all since last winter, with one teensy exception). For example, I imagine there's some debate as to whether or not Rapunzel's hair every grew back out, because my friends and I have discussed it. My personal opinion, it did grow back out. Rapunzel was always one of my favorite fairy tales as a child because I have never cut my hair, and I always related to her. So, for me, Rapunzel without long hair just isn't Rapunzel, magical or not. :-)
FYI, Griet is pronounced like "greet".