A/N: I may be adding on to this after I see the short "Tangled Ever After" but here you go! Please review and give some feedback please. Happy New Year and God Bless!
Disclaimer: I don't own "Tangled" or "Tangled Ever After" or its characters.
He knew he would find her up in this wing of the castle, in the "tower" that had paintings from her childhood all the way to her most recent ones from last week, the ones that had hearts flying up the walls. Now though, she would probably be painting vultures pecking away at the surface of the pink offending symbols of love.
She was young, too young to bear a burden such as the emotions that she felt for the boy she could not have. He was too old, way too old for the little girl that he could still see running around, her dimpled hands holding her mother's tiara and her taunting babydoll voice, playfully calling for him to come get it.
The years had changed her though, she was a little quieter, though still the good natured wisecrack she used to be, just like him. The chestnut brown hair that used to only go to her shoulders, now reached past the center of her back, and the remains of baby fat on her now thin cheeks, were unexistence. Her eyes though still gleamed with the childlike wonder of a little girl who had a full pallete of colors in front of her, yet didn't know what to paint and where to start.
The wooden stairs creaked as he walked up the narrow passage way to the girl's hideout, somewhere that she would always sneak away to when her tutors got to be overbearing or her siblings became too annoying for words. She would walk these stairs as calmly as she could, and paint, paint until all the emotions she couldn't express were out.
The man hesitated before the door, smoothing out his white vest and dress sleeves, trying to appear as relaxed as was possible at a time like this, a time where your baby girl just received her first heartbreak.
It wasn't him who reached for the door, with sweaty hands, actually it was the girl on the other side who had expected his appearance. Her hazel eyes were tinged red from the crying she had done earlier, but he could see the tear stains on her green sleeves that were the giveaway that she was trying to close herself off from him, trying to act like she was ok.
"Hi Daddy," Her voice, not childlike anymore, left her rosy lips like nails on a chalk board, she tried to cover up the hills and valleys in the way she spoke those two words, but she knew nothing could get past him.
"Belle, why do you do this to yourself?" The teenager shook her head and turned from her father in the doorway as he entered and shut the door tightly behind him, taking in the room around him.
There were the paintings she had created at the tender age of 5 when they had given her this room, and now 10 years later the walls were almost full of clouds, and stars, and multiple random doodles that come into the young girl's mind. The one window held a picturesque view of the kingdom, bathed in the setting sun that cast multiple shades of gold and maroon across the water of the ocean to the tops of the village houses. To this day he could still not believe that in just a few short years, this really would all be his, well his and his wife's.
"Do what?" She asked, her back to him as she pretended to be preoccupied with the view from her window, her voice slowly returning to its usual comforting tone.
He pointedly looked at the recent doodles of hearts on her walls, now being attacked by hungry birds that looked more like sparrows than vultures. "You know I was so close to being correct that it actually scares me."
She turned around, a crinkle in between her brows, then she saw what he was looking at and rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Look Dad, I just want to be alone, I don't even think the smolder could cheer me up right now."
Her father turned around to look her right in the face, feigning hurt and then playfully becoming angry, "Excuse me Belle, but I do believe you are a Fitzherbert, and Fitzherbert's happen to have a medicine for everything, and that is the smolder!" The girl smiled slightly at her Dad's childish antics.
"I would love to hear you tell that to mom, she would probably just end up breaking it along with your, ever so sculpted nose," The girl tapped her father's nose to which he opened his mouth shocked at what she had just said, as she picked up her paints and brushes and moved them off the stool she planned to sit on.
"You have my nose so your just insulting yourself, princess," The young royal just rolled her eyes again, trying hard not to smile but failing. She sat on the stool and promptly hid that "sculpted nose" within the confines of her pale hands.
"Dad, I don't want to talk about it. I'm just hurt, that's all and it's like scraping your knee, it will hurt for awhile but eventually go away," Eugene's eyes softened as he looked at his daughter, walking closer to the stool and sitting down on the wooden floor beside it. "Not unless it leaves a scar, then you will never forget it," The girl turned her head to her father and scowled at him for a second before turning her face definatly away from him, crossing her arms.
"Hey! But sometimes scars can be turned into good things. The one I have on my hand, that one is from when your mother and I got stuck in a cave, and almost died and I ended up saving us, you know because I'm a hero. Yeah that's a good one." Eugene turned from his open palm to his daughter who had let out a scoff, "What?"
"Dad if it wasn't for Mom's glowing hair, you would be long gone by now."
"Well, still I consider that a good memory even though it didn't seem like one at the time." Eugene sat there still looking at his hand, before placing it softly on the young girl's knee, "Belle there will be plenty of time for this boy nonsense, Gerald was too old for you anyway and he's in the guard and as we all know, only men looking for attention go into the guard, us real heroes prefer to rescue lost princesses."
Annabelle laughed, rolling her eyes and gently took her father's hand within her's, squeezing it with quite a grip, "I know Dad, I'll get over it."
Eugene though, after being Flynn for many years, recognized that look within the girl's eyes. The look he had seen many times in his, the wanting of someone to take a moment to actually care, to not accept the "I'm ok" excuse, to actually press on and try to help make the pain go away.
"Sometimes, we have to wait a really long time for the right person to show up in our life, and sometimes it's gonna feel like you are getting a frying pan to the head, literally," He grabbed his head jokingly for a second as she looked on almost dubious of what he was going to turn this into,"But when you are standing at that altar the day you are ready to not only be yourself, but to be someone else's, all the heartbreaks don't matter anymore, all that matters is how fast your heart is beating when you see that wonderful person waiting at the end of the aisle, thinking the same thing as you."
Annabelle sat for a second, rarely was her father serious, and to be honest she was quite greatful for it at the moment. Their hazel eyes met, and she asked them the questions he knew she would.
"Was it like that for you?"
Eugene laughed slightly pulling the girl down onto his lap, just as he did when she was 5 and even though she now was too big for this, he did not care.
"This is the story of the day, my dream came true..."