The first time they made love, she cried.
It was before the fact; when they lay in the bed of a shady, back-woods inn, half disrobed and tangled in the quilts that lay atop the lumpy mattress. He kissed her in earnest, and she let her curious hands wander, somewhat tentatively, until they skated over the raised edge of his scar and she drew back with a gasp and a pained expression.
Eugene studied her eyes, at first unsure of what soured her mood, until he followed her gaze to the dark mark that remained on his abdomen, carrying with it the weight of a hundred fears and bad memories best forgotten.
Rapunzel rolled away, covering her face with her hands as it collapsed into tears and short, shuddering breaths. Eugene covered the mark with the sheets as he reached for her shoulder to turn her back toward him.
She fought him, at first, but with gentle shushing and coaxing, she relented and tucked her head under his chin to sniffle against his chest. His fingers ran soothingly up and down her back and he murmured into her hair until she was calm.
"Does it upset you?" he asked, desperately hoping that the answer was no (though he knew better), because there was little he could do to make it less promininent.
"Yes," she whispered into his shoulder, refusing to look into his eyes. He tried to tilt her chin, but she turned her head the other way.
"Why?" he asked in a coarse whisper, licking his parched lips in anticipation of her answer.
She didn't speak right away, but took a few deep breaths to quell her nerves. Eugene waited patiently, afraid of making her cry again. She raised her head to look at him just long enough to say "because it's my fault," and promptly pushed away from him and hid her face in a pillow.
"Your fault?" he echoed, stunned for a moment. She just nodded in a blur of sound, quick and muted beside him. He propped himself up on one elbow. "How so?"
"Because Mother…Gothel would have let you be if it hadn't been for me," Rapunzel replied.
Eugene chuckled to himself. "As I recall, I was the one who climbed into your tower in the first place," he reminded her gently. "I really don't see how the blame could fall on you. I started this whole thing."
As always, the young woman was quick to retort. "But I practically blackmailed you into helping me leave. If I'd just stayed put instead of making you take me to see the lanterns…" she trailed off, looking for a moment like she was going to cry again. But her brow furrowed in concentration as she fended off the tears, and she finished her thought. "Then you wouldn't have been hurt."
The thief pulled himself into a sitting position against the headboard and looked down at the Princess fondly. Flynn Rider had never been one for the meaningful sappiness, but slowly Eugene Fitzherbert was coming to see the value of such things. He mustered up a little courage before speaking, every word coming from the heart.
"I was more than happy to die for you, Rapunzel," he admitted, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
"Don't say that!" she shouted, leaping from her supine position and catching his face in her hands to hold it steady. "Never say that! It's the last thing I want!" He wrapped a hand around her wrist.
"I know," he told her. "But it doesn't make it any less true. You can't blame yourself for my feelings, Blondie."
"But I don't want you to die," she blubbered, the fierceness she'd had a moment ago melting into tears that clung to her eyelashes instead of falling.
"I know," Eugene replied, lifting the girl to sit on his lap. His strong arms stretched around her back and held her close to him, and without having to think about it Rapunzel returned the embrace. "But I love you. I died to save you. And you saved me back. It wasn't your fault in the first place, but I suppose I owe you now," he told her.
"No, you don't. You don't owe me anything," she insisted, but when he asked the reasons why, she just smiled and shook her head and leaned in for another chaste kiss. "Because."
Because. It seemed to be the only fitting answer, he noted briefly before his mind disappeared and his body lit up with her touch. Because there are no words.