Thank you so much for the reviews I've got so far and all the alerts! I really appreciate it more than I can say, I was so excited! I'm glad people seem to be enjoying it.

Disclaimer: Still don't own it.

Chapter 2 – The Princess

"So," he said, "any further surprises coming my way? Any more special talents you've recently discovered?"

He had meant it as a joke, but she went totally still against him as he said it and it immediately put him on alert. Years of sneaking and hiding and responding to the tiniest change in environment made him freeze too. He almost didn't breathe.

But she said nothing for a full minute so finally he wheezed, "What?"

She ducked out from under his chin with an expression on her face that was eerily similar to the one she had worn only last night as they sat beside the campfire, her hair wrapped around his hand. To complete the creeping sense of déjà vu she winced and said, "Don't freak out, but – "

He felt his eyes start to pop. "The last time you said that you were about to perform the most amazing trick I've ever seen anyone do with their hair."

She screwed up her nose, looking very uncomfortable. "Er – well, I suppose this is not quite as surprising as that – well, maybe it is, I mean, it's pretty incredible and I almost can't believe it myself, but I'm so sure because how else could I have known where I had seen the sun before, and I'm sure I looked just like she did on the mural in the square – "

He seized her by the shoulders, an enormous sense of impending doom descending upon him. "Rapunzel, what are you talking about?"

She stared at him for a moment, looking terrified, and then blurted out, "I'm the lost princess!"

Eugene felt everything go numb. His hands slipped from her shoulders and he felt his mouth flop open like a fish. He was probably making the same ridiculous face he'd made when he'd first seen the cut on his hand disappear, his tongue sticking out like – like the frog! His head started to throb as if he'd just been hit with another frying pan.

"Eugene?" Rapunzel was peering anxiously into his face, obviously unnerved by the thunderstruck look he could only imagine she was seeing. "Eugene!"

A princess. The princess. The princess whose crown he had stolen. Lifted it right off the plushy purple pillow in the most heavily guarded part of the castle. Her castle. Her parent's castle. The castle he had just busted out of that very morning with the aid of several local criminals who had mowed down the guards with the ease of spreading softened butter. The guards who he had been avoiding for most of his life. Her guards in her castle in her kingdom whose inhabitants he had been robbing blind for years and years and years.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no…

"Eugene!" Rapunzel had seized the front of his vest and was rattling him back and forth, looking almost blind with panic. Some vague part of his mind admired yet again the enormous amount of strength she had for such a small girl. "Eugene!"

He could hardly hear her over the roaring in his head. He was dimly aware that he was emitting some kind of frenzied wheezing sound.

This was bad, this was really, really bad…

How was he supposed to be with her now?

And suddenly it hit him with full force just how hard he had been banking on going with her wherever she wanted to go. Of course he'd been thinking it, he'd been absolutely committed to it the minute he'd ridden Max out of the village and clambered through that window. When he'd felt his life leaking away and realised he would rather die there and then if it would save her from a life of servitude with that horrid, lying witch.

And now – now what? He was a wanted thief, and she was a princess?

"EUGENE! EUGENE, IF YOU DON'T ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR I'M GOING TO GET MY FRYING PAN AND BEAT YOU OVER THE HEAD!"

Then there was the sudden and unpleasant sensation of something wet and slimy hitting his ear with enormous force. He let out a yell, flailed ineffectually, felt the frog go flying, and tried to focus on the frantic Rapunzel. Her eyes were filled with fear and alarm and she was still clinging to his vest. It was that above anything else that calmed him down enough to stop having what appeared to her to be some kind of collapse.

"Eugene!" she cried again. "Talk to me! Are you okay?"

"Hungh!" he said.

She frowned. "What?"

He tried again. "How – how did you find out? When did you find out?"

Now that he was speaking a recognisable language the horrified look on her face faded slightly, but she maintained a tight grip on his clothing. "While you were being fired off a cart," she said, obviously attempting to placate him with a joke, "I was in my bedroom looking at the flag you bought me at the festival yesterday."

"The flag," Eugene said slowly. "With the sun on it?"

"Yes, exactly!" she said, clearly encouraged by his response. Pascal had clambered back up onto her shoulder and was nodding vigorously. "The sun! I was holding it up when I realised…" There was a pause as she obviously tried to think of a way to explain it, then she abruptly stood up and held out her hand. "Come up to my bedroom."

That got his attention. "Come up to your – what?"

She huffed impatiently, obviously not yet aware of the effect the sentence 'come up to my bedroom' would have upon most rational men. Pascal rolled his little reptilian eyes. "I need to show you what I'm talking about with the sun and the flag!"

Eugene looked down at his wrist which was, he realised for the first time, still encased in a shackle. How had he not noticed that he was still chained to the stairs? Was she always going to have this effect on him? "Erm – I appear to be stuck to the staircase."

Rapunzel looked dumbstruck. "Oh no! How do we get you out?"

"Okay," Eugene said, trying to maintain some kind of composure while still feeling as if his world had been turned upside down for the hundredth time in only three days. "Give me a second."

He reached into the pouch he always kept on his belt, felt around for a moment, and pulled out his trusty lock pick. Rapunzel's eyes widened when she saw it. "What is that?"

"It's – uh – it's a lock pick," said Eugene, acutely aware of how awkward this was given her recent revelation that she was, in fact, royalty. "It – wait, I'll show you."

He found the lock on the shackle, stuck in the pick, wriggled it around and felt the lock click loose. "You see," he said, "it works like a key if you don't have one."

Rapunzel continued to stare at the pick in awe and Eugene felt his stomach drop. This was it, the moment where she finally realised what he already had: there was no way she could take him anywhere near the castle…she was going to tell him that because of what he was there was no way she could stay with him…

"That's amazing!" she squealed, clapping her hands. "Do you think I could have one?"

Eugene stared at her. The shackle hit the floor with a clunk.

"Oh good, you're finished!" She grabbed his hand and wrenched him around and up the stairs, bounding up two at a time with that wretched frog sitting on her shoulder looking smugly back at him as he was hauled along behind her.

Suddenly he was pulled through a set of curtains. He barely had time to register the tiny room in which she had spent eighteen years – eighteen years! – sleeping. Rapunzel immediately leapt towards her bed and thrust a small square of purple fabric at his face. "Here! Look at it, and then look at the ceiling!"

Eugene stared at the sun on the flag. There it was, the symbol of the kingdom, the royal crest, hitting him like a smack in the face. Nervously he clutched at the fabric and turned to look at Rapunzel, who was watching him eagerly. He could see her biting her lip, her cheeks flushed, her eyes shining, her hands…trembling?

She was terrified, he realised. She must be scared stiff, suddenly seeing something she knew nobody would believe…she must have faced Gothel anyway, told her what she knew, why else would the witch have chained her up and tried to drag her away?

His heart finally stopped pounding as he looked at her. Her eyes were totally focused on his face, watching his every move. She had been so brave through everything, a determined, feisty, frankly often frightening force standing staunchly by his side. And even when she thought he had left her she had found the strength to face the woman who she would have realised had kept her prisoner for eighteen years, and still had the guts left over to offer herself to Gothel in order to save him.

He felt an enormous rush of affection and pride and he seized her hand, rubbing her fingers to try and stop their shaking.

If she can do all of that, he thought, I can look at this stupid flag, and no matter who or what she is I can take her wherever she wants to go and face the sodding consequences.

He looked down at the flag again and then back to her. She (and Pascal) simply pointed up.

He followed the direction of her finger, peering up at the arched ceiling. It was covered in paintings – they were incredible! There were so many of them! Well, he thought, I suppose when you're stuck here for eighteen years you want to make it as pleasant as you can.

He looked back down at the flag, and then up. There was a spot just above him that looked – wait – no, it couldn't be – was that the shape of a sun?

His mouth popped open once more as he looked again at the flag and then again at the paintings around him. There it was! It was there! And another one! And – he nearly tipped over as he tried to look everywhere at once, spinning on the spot – another, and another, and yet another…they were everywhere, all over her room, nestled in between a thousand different shapes and in all different sizes, but there without a doubt.

He dropped his gaze to her and stared. In his hand her fingers finally stopped trembling, and he saw her visibly relax as she took in the expression on his face, a smile breaking through her anxiety. "Do you see them?"

He nodded, totally lost for words. She had been painting them her whole life, without even realising it…

She stood there for a second, just grinning at him and then, with a small strangled noise she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his middle, her head buried again in his vest.

"I realised when I was lying on my bed," he heard her say, her voice reverberating in his chest, a small, pleasant hum that melted away the last of his shock. "I suddenly saw a – a mobile, I suppose from when I was a baby, and it had the shape of the sun on it. It had been hanging over my head, and I – I thought I saw my – my parents – " Her voice broke on the word and she pulled back suddenly, her eyes enormous in her flushed face. "My parents! I – I have parents! I saw them in the mural in the square, and I remembered when I put that crown in your satchel on my head – "

Eugene tightened his hold on her waist and planted a series of furious kisses on her forehead, feeling the most exquisite combination of joy and fear he'd ever experienced. He didn't know if he'd ever felt so full to bursting with emotion before, and all he really wanted to do was let her know that he was feeling everything she was and that he was going to stay with her on this insane journey they seemed to be on until she told him to leave, and even then he didn't know if he'd obey her, princess or not.

She responded with a sudden fierceness he probably should have realised was coming, given past experience, but that nonetheless caught him completely off guard. She pulled him down with all of her strength – which was quite a bit – and planted a ferocious kiss on his cheek. He leaned in to rub his face against hers, feeling again the velvety softness of her cheek and – hang on, were they – wet?

His skin still stinging from her sudden kiss, Eugene pulled back to look at her. Sure enough, silent tears were pouring down her cheeks.

"I'm – I'm sorry!" she gasped, hurriedly trying to wipe her eyes. "It's just – "

He didn't even let her finish the sentence. "Shhh, don't cry, don't cry," he murmured, pulling her towards him again and falling back to sit on the bed. He rocked her back and forward and she giggled, then hiccoughed. He laughed softly into her hair and rubbed her back. "It's going to be fine, Blondie. You'll see."

She sniffled. "You'll need to find another name to call me."

He kissed the top of her head. "Never." He peered into her face, pushing her hair from her eyes. "Feeling better?"

She nodded and gave him a watery smile. "It's…overwhelming."

"You don't say," he said drily. She gave him a good poke in the ribs, then suddenly turned to him, a look of absolute horror on her face.

"What is it?" he said, alarmed. What else was coming his way today?

"Pascal!" she squealed. "Where did he go? I completely forgot about him!"

"You're worrying about the frog?"

"Chameleon!" She dropped off his lap and scrambled under the bed. "Pascal! Are you – oh, there you are! I'm so sorry, Pascal, are you all right?"

A small series of angry chitters and a growl was the reply.

"No, of course! I'm sorry, I won't do it again!" Rapunzel emerged with the little lizard clutched in her hands. There was a look of murder upon his froggy face which he directed straight at Eugene. In response Eugene gave him his best cheesy grin and an exaggerated wink. The look of loathing intensified.

"Well," said Rapunzel, placing Pascal back on her shoulder, "I suppose – it's time to go." She wrapped her arms around herself and looked around her bedroom, suddenly seeming very small.

Eugene was at her side in an instant, his hand automatically reaching for hers. "Do you…" He wasn't sure how to deal with this – what did you do when you'd been hidden away from the world for eighteen years in a tower, and suddenly you realised you were never going to see it again? He swallowed, feeling nervous all over again. "Do you want to take anything with you?"

Rapunzel gave him a grateful smile. "I – I think I might take some of my paints, and my books…" Her eyes lit up. "And my frying pan!"

"Joy of joys," said Eugene. "And I thought I was past being threatened with a cooking utensil."

"You're never past being threatened with a cooking utensil," she replied, moving back through the curtains towards the stairs. He followed her around the tower as she collected her paints and brushes, her books, some of her dresses and, of course, that frying pan. Eugene gave it a dark look as Rapunzel picked it up and carefully placed it with her other belongings. Finally she placed the purple flag on top, smoothing it out and running her fingers over the sun. Then she wrapped everything up in a bundle, tied a cloth around it, and stood in the middle of the floor, her eyes travelling over every last item in the room.

Eugene moved to stand over by the hole in the floor. His fists clenched as he thought about the fact that there had been a secret stairway concealed the entire time right beneath Rapunzel's feet. The disgust he felt for Gothel increased with every passing second. He could hardly wait to get out of this twisted prison she had created for the girl he had come to care about so much, this cell she had made Rapunzel call home.

He watched as Rapunzel came towards him, clutching her bundle with Pascal still on her shoulder. The frog seemed very keen to leave, his tiny face alight with excitement.

Eugene smiled as she stood beside him. "Ready to go?"

She swept her eyes once more around the tower, lingering for just a second on the masses of brown hair still coiled across the tiles. He saw a quick succession of expressions cross her face – sadness, guilt, relief – and finally a sort of steely resolve.

She turned back to him and nodded firmly, her brown hair bobbing, and for all that Eugene had seen the beauty and power of her old hair he loved to see her free of it, no longer weighed down by the presence of a magic that had seen her serve a old witch all of her life.

"I am," she said determinedly, and she slid forward into the hole in the floor and started down the steps, Eugene right behind her.

…

Aha! Another chapter finished! Let me know what you think.