- Chapter 3 -
World's Smallest Set of Handcuffs
For those first two and the next week, their paths would cross at the most tentative twilight hours of dusk and dawn. Even as he learned the patterns of the household, he successfully avoided her less and less. The hatred and tension and undertow of numbness grew more and more familiar. And Eugene found his new coping skills were stuck at a standstill against her relentless waves of force.
At the end of the third week, Stalyan had him attend dinner with her and her father for the first time since he had arrived. Eugene sat up straight, but with his head down. He pushed his food around, sometimes idly sticking a little bit in his mouth, never tasting any of it. With great effort he barely choked a small portion down.
Later that night, Stalyan sat up in bed with the covers pulled up, finishing filing her nails. "Ya know, I bet the princess never showed you a good time like that."
Eugene lay curled up away from her, but propped up on just as many pillows. He sneered over his shoulder, "And I'd naturally bet she could show me a better time."
"-wait. 'Could?'" Stalyan leaned over. "DID you two ever even-?"
Eugene sighed and winced his eyes shut in embarrassed regret. Damn it, should not have said it like- now she knows.
"Pwuhah! Oh my God, Flynn- A whole year? Well, I know you. You had to have someone on the side, right?"
"No!" he asserted as he began to turn over and sit up. "I-"
"No? Wow, what HAVE you been doing to yourself? Well, I guess you had to, 'do it to yourself,' then." She got distracted chuckling, still not believing him.
He glared her down, unamused. "Ya know, everyone thinks they need to remind me how 'new to the world' she is- you say it was selfish to propose marriage to a girl who'd only just gotten her freedom, but at the same time, ya'll want me to've snatched that flower quick as I could, huh? And you say I'm the despicable person?"
She scoffed. "Really, Rider? Do you really think she ever would have let you?"
"Yeees!" he craned his neck out to stress. "Either on a wedding night, or close to a wedding night. We have talked about sex at least and she wants kids, too, so!" He threw his hands out to lay down his defenses. "But it's almost like that's not the biggest reason I'm dating her, now is it?!"
"You were dating her."
Eugene blinked in the shock of it yet again, trying to remember again that he was indeed married to someone else now. He could not very well still be in another relationship. Rapunzel and I? We're… broken up? He pouted, loathe to think of them described as where they appeared to stand. Rapunzel's my EX- he gulped, Ex-girlfriend? Not even ex-fiance for her. The Princess is single and I'm? The next Baron... He sighed, cringed, and shook his head. "Stalyan, this…" Is insane! You're crazy! "This feels wrong," he whined out the throwaway petition.
"Well I know it's right in the long run," she cooed. "And come on, The Legendary Flynn Rider; he does whatever he wants, takes whatever he wants. And then? Happily ever after. He has everything his little heart could ever desire."
"No, he doesn't." Eugene shook his head. "He really doesn't."
Stalyan smirked at him.
"Even IF-" he dropped his hand out to explain, "Let's say I am still trying to be Flynnagen Rider. The first and foremost thing I should have is MY freedom. Second, you really think it's more like Flynn to have actually married you? Ever? You're right, he was a womanizer. I took it more romantically than that, but still, I never expected to get to really settle down with anyone. Never thought I'd really ever get to raise kids properly and grow old, in love with just one person. Even if I did go through with the wedding back then? I'd have left you. And we both know that's true. Maybe not til after a honeymoon, maybe not even for a few more years, but I never wanted to actually spend the rest of my life with you. I just wanted you to want me, never mind the type of person you were- er, are. And I couldn't work with you as a partner and not want to fuck you- back. then. I got carried away with romanticizing a wedding, but all I really wanted? Was a sense of accomplishment, basically another conquest. The next logical step as an adult, just another means to my own stupid end. I wasn't even thinking about a title or taking over for your dad someday- I just wanted his approval, this lifestyle. Not any kind of responsibility or accountability! I only realized all that when I woke up that morning." He paused to sigh. "Between two other women." He waited for her reaction, but it merely showed that she already knew. He took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders. "And I couldn't give up that freedom." He looked away. I should have understood that you were just going through the same thing, Blondie… But she still loves me. I know she does. Right? I hope? Why couldn't we just have talked about why she refused both proposals?! I WANT to know why, so that maybe I could help or fix it or at least not drive myself crazy wondering!
She glared at him the whole time, arms crossed. "Ya done? That was eight years ago. Now?" She opened her arms up to gesture around them. "Here we are."
"Wha…?" He had gotten so absorbed in his own thoughts that he forgot what they were originally talking about.
She leaned on his shoulder a kissed his cheek. "You don't want to run anything, fine. I can do it, and do it better than you anyway. You just stay handsome." The tip of her finger tapped his nose.
His stomach churned, strangely conscious of it being sooo long since someone else let it be known that he needed to rely on his good looks. If I'm not then nobody will- He caught the old thought pattern this time. SHE- she actually HAD the power to keep me young and handsome forever. If she'd suggested that, I would've been all for it! Thinking I'd need that to stay with her. But none of it mattered to her. He stared into space, smiling.
"Mmm, what?" Stalyan teased. "You like the sound of that?"
He shook his head. "I never needed to impress her with my looks. I kept that vanity up, but looks never mattered to her. No lies, no conditions or fake names. She just loved me."
She pushed up off him and humphed away with her back to him.
"Any word from Corona?" Lance asked.
"How should I know?" Eugene shrugged defeatedly. If there is… I'm not so sure I wanna know...
"EuGENE!" Lance snapped, "It's been three weeks at this point! You been walkin' around the castle all this time, and you haven't sent a letter to Corona?!"
Eugene sighed. "Lance, it wouldn't matter."
"Wouldn't matter?! That girl would do anything for you, and you don't think it'd matter?! And even if she's not there, aren't you basically a prince to them already? Wouldn't good ole' Mr. The King send help for us?"
"Look, in case you haven't noticed, I'm NOT the Princess's boyfriend anymo-..." his voice broke. "I'm actually not anything to Corona anymore, and I still lost a best friend. I'm back where I started ten years ago, broke, and stuck with this cu- Ah! Hey!"
Hookfoot had reached through the bars and flicked his ear sharply. "You're lucky you're not in here with me 'cause then I'd really knock some sense into ya!"
Eugene sat up and stared at him in angry, speechless shock. Mutiny! Where's the camaraderie?!
"And lucky enough to be sleeping with a beautiful woman every night, instead of sharing a cell with a hygienically-challenged thug," Lance accused.
"Lucky?!" Eugene yelled with a deep sneer. 'Lucky' to have this evil woman forcing me to- to- to- 'cheat' on Rapunzel almost every single night?! He forced himself to take a deep breath but still seethed, "You guys have no idea- why would you- why on Earth would you think I'm 'lucky' for this?!"
Given how upset his friend turned, Lance shrugged to offer an apologetic concession.
"I'd rather be down here with you." He settled back to resting his head between two bars.
"Yeah," Hookfoot said sarcastically, "Least you got a choice-"
"I DON'T." Eugene snapped, then ignored him. "This is different. This is so different… This is not what marriage is supposed to be like. Not at all. I'm still trapped here, too."
Hookfoot crossed his arms and hmphed away.
Eugene turned where he sat. "Do you understand how this works?" he barked at him. "You guys are here for collateral. If I run - hell, if I even piss them off enough - they'll kill you. "
"Eugene," Lance quietly directed, "Look. I know you're feelin' down, and I know you miss the Princess. But you gotta get a letter out. If not for your sorry ass, then at least let us have a chance to be ransomed!"
Eugene was taken aback. And leave me here alone?! Well, guess it may not matter, really... He sighed and looked away.
Lance calmly tried to encourage him. "If she were here right now, what would she say?"
Eugene's head began swimming, with how different every circumstance would be if he and Rapunzel were switched. If she had been kidnapped and forced to marry an evil baron's asshole son somewhere. Well, actually that doesn't sound much different than the way politics usually work, but- but she's the girl- His stomach twisted. That's… worse, right? But still, more- 'normal?' Ugh... "I-... I dunno…" And she'll always be at least a princess.
"She'd make some sappy speech, and turn that into a rallying cry of obstinance, about how she won't stop"
Lance's voice suddenly fell away from Eugene's ears. 'won't stop. For every minute, for the rest of my life, I will fight! I will never stop trying to get away from you!' His mouth slowly fell open, watching the memory from a thousand miles away. "I'll try," he whispered, "If I'm careful, I… I could at least get something out."
"That's my man." Lance clasped and shook his shoulder.
"What if it's intercepted?" Eugene worried.
"Then make it not sound like it's anything important."
Staring blankly at the columns and rows of stone bricks that made up the dungeon sparked something. "Okay, yeah. I've got an idea. And when, when do you think? Tonight?"
"As soon as you can!"
"Bu- wha- What about Stalyan?"
Lance groaned. "Ugh. What about her?"
"Well, what if she gets suspicious?"
"Then make her un-suspicious!"
"I can't do that!" His hands clawed down at air as he frustratedly complained.
"Maybe Eugene can't," Lance answered coyly, "But Flynn Rider could."
"Lance," Eugene sighed and waved him off. "No, I'm losing myself enough as it is-"
"Listen to me." He adjusted his grip to holding his trap muscle nearer his neck, and turned him back to face him. "You may not be Flynn Rider anymore, but you, Eugene, are also not the same person you were when you were dating Stalyan 8 years ago. So now tell me again, why did you start going by Flynn Rider?"
"Beee…caauuse it sounded cool?" He quirked his face, not following.
"Because Flynn Rider could do all the things Eugene couldn't. For that time when Eugene wouldn't've survived."
Eugene stared at Lance, receiving the epiphany from him. He thought a moment, then made up his mind. "I gotta get you guys outta here." He shook his head, exasperated. "Guys, this is crazy. I can't believe I'm gonna do this. But we need Flynn Rider to save us." He looked away down the hall, toward the lone guard standing watch at the door, reminiscing to another time it was suggested to him to actually choose to lean on the old mantle. Cassandra… He smiled. 'For someone who spent most of his life breaking the rules to get what he wants, you're having an awful lot of trouble dealing with someone breaking the rules to get what HE wants.'
"The Legend Returns," Lance grinned.
Eugene grinned back, soaking up as much courage as he could from him.
"Besides," Lance crossed his arms and shrugged. "Mr. The King still owes me for saving his life."
Eugene's grin flipped upside down into an exaggerated frown, but he did notice the jesting expression that came over Lance. "Yeah, yeah," he smirked and brushed him off. But it was a new hold for his confidence in the old man. The King knew that he and Lance had risked their lives in the snowstorm, in order to save him and the Queen.
"So come on," Lance goaded, "Let's see how you're gonna tame that wild Stalyan."
Eugene wet his lips and loosened his face up, then sprang the smoulder on Lance. He even practiced looking deep into his eyes, while it was a friendly face. Eventually both men gave way to giggles. "Okay, yeah. Yeah, I can do it."
"Hrmm, you're gonna have to shave and fix the rest of your face up first. Still not as handsome as me, but you know." Lance put his arms behind his head to lean back against the stone wall.
"Ah-" Eugene chuckled. "Neh-eh. You're second." He shoved his shin away a little, all he could reach.
"Nope!" he shot back smugly.
"Nein."
"Ani."
"Non."
"Iie."
"Net."
"Méiyǒu."
Down the hall, the guard grunted out in despair. "Not again…"
Water was still running.
Mind racing. Quill dancing. Time chasing. Heart pounding. Ink splashing. Stomach reeling. Finally feeling, that he could get his life back.
Eugene had made sure to eat well at dinner, and the excitement and anticipation of something working out finally fueled his much-needed appetite. With the further help of a coffee he managed to snatch, his brain finally felt like it was sharp enough to be firing on regular cylinders. He had shaved and bathed immediately after, then left for the study to swipe supplies, just missing Stalyan in passing. Once he had returned, Stalyan was in the bath already. At the writing desk in the bedroom, he pulled out the pen, ink, and scrap paper that he hoped would not be missed, and set about actually figuring out how to write the message he wanted to transcribe. Eventually, he came up with:
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!
V.B.
14783 91233710 155 16211021116 1713 1721115
The "v.b." was an afterthought as he struggled to make it all work, and he was running out of time as her bath dragged on. He counted and counted again to double check everything. Satisfied, he tore the strip of paper off, rolled it up tightly, kissed it, and slipped it under a boot spat. The pair of which were tucked beside the bed as usual. The pen and ink were shoved into a cabinet below the desk. The rest of his scrap paper he gathered up, crumpled up, and tossed it into the lit fireplace. A few sticks of the poker, and he made quick work of destroying any evidence.
He whipped his shirt off and sprawled it out just-so to look casually tossed on the chaise. Standing bare-chested in front of the fire, he worked his arms around, stretched his legs out, then dropped to do push-ups, with both hands. He continued until he just barely felt himself break a sweat, then burpeed back up to his feet. It was just enough to give him a nice sheen, to look a little worked up and steamy. The suction of the tub emptying alerted him that time was up. Surveying his playing field once more, he turned down the bed covers.
Champagne? Wine? Too much? Too much.
The finishing touch; he rustled up his hair, and casually sprawled out across the bed on his stomach. He hugged a pillow under his head, and forced himself to relax as if he had merely grown sleepy waiting for her all this time.
Eugene steeled his concentration, focusing on compartmentalizing, again. Time to put 'Eugene' away for now. Nothing wrong with everything I've been able to reclaim about myself, but now's not the time for any of that. This isn't the real ME. This is just what I gotta do. I AM Flynn Rider, damn it, and I CAN do this, no problem.
He stirred only a bit when Stalyan finally re-entered the room. He heard her pause, then the quietest swish of her robe as she sauntered over to him. She brushed his bangs away from his face, genuinely startling him, but he was able to recover and make it look like she had startled him 'awake.'
"Wooow," she ran a finger along his smooth cheek.
"Ohhh, heyyy," his sleepy voice softly moaned out. He picked his head up and yawned, then flopped it back down. His insides twisted in conflict. He relished being fawned over, but this he could do without.
She reached out to pet his cheek fully. "This is nice. Why'd you let it go for so long?"
He shrugged, barely looking conscious.
She chuckled at him. "Hey, Sleepyhead. You turning in already?"
Eugene thought to puppy dog pout cutely, but stopped himself. "Pfft," he twisted his head in the pillow to look back and up at her, smirked, and decided instead on sultry. "Just waiting for you." He lazily waggled his eyebrows.
"Huh, well, well," she sat on the edge of the bed. "What's with this new attitude? Or should I say old attitude? Hm, welcome back."
He sighed as he pushed himself up into a sitting position beside her. His hand purposely settled on the bed, in between them. Acting shy, he twisted away while also leaning toward her, as he drew out sheepishly, "Welllll..."
She eyed him suspiciously. "What?"
"Nothing, I've just been thinking a lot, about what you said, you know?" His smile disappeared. "Thinking about what life would've been like if we'd made different decisions back then." He sat up straighter, playing off a small realization. "If I'd made a different decision. And," he dipped his head in concession and shrugged, "You're right."
Her brow quirked. "Oh really? Right about what?"
"About them," his voice strained. "And about me. About how it was never really gonna be the 'happily ever after' I thought it was." He shook his head. "I mean, I can't run a whole kingdom." Rapunzel would be legal head! "Privately, she- she would always say she needed me to just wait for her." Patient, of course, but why wait on at least getting engaged? Okay I guess really don't know what that was about. "And yeah, someone like me?" He tried to chuckle, but it came out pathetic. "No one would… I mean… The princess having my kids? No one would stand for that…" But God I hope-...
His old douchebag self stood in place for him in his dreams with Rapunzel. It was someone like that, who he never wanted to see her with. But he also did not want to see her with him forever if she would regret it, if she was the least bit unsure. I WAS pressuring her! He stared out into space, shocked how it all seemed to make sense. 'No, no. I- I won't,' he remembered her smiling. ...Never mind, I'm still confused.
Stalyan half-frowned, sympathetically. "What're you thinking about?"
"Remembering," he quickly answered, then forced a crooked half smile. "Way back. Ya know, I do remember a lot from back then…" Part of his scrambled mind helpfully shuffled forward an otherwise forgotten memory; the time he felt the most genuinely accepted by the Baron. "Do you remember," he chuckled lightly as he rubbed his eyes with one hand, "Ahh, d'you remember that time we got that Shiek to buy a building that didn't exist?"
She chuckled with him, "And you almost screwed it up cuz of your 'German!'"
He laughed out a little louder than he had in a while.
She smiled softly. "So, Flynn, you finally ready to settle down?"
Flynn. His laughter came down believably. He took a deep breath and nodded. "I'd just thought, that if I changed my name, that it would change me." His eyes got glassy and he got choked up. "That I would be good enough for- f-for her." He pursed his lips together hard, his whole body unexpectedly trembling at this rooted-in-truth, inside-out pain on full display. "I actually proposed to her. Twice." His voice squeaked, and he paused to let the obvious conclusion sink in, that those proposals were rejected. "But you, Stalyan? You never stopped believing in me."
She reached out to cup his cheek, thumbing over the smooth. He slowly lifted his eyes to hers; his eyes that were glossed over, reflecting whatever she wanted to see. "Is this finally the Flynn Rider I've been missing?"
Eugene sniffled up a gasp. YES! Defeatedly though, he nodded. "I was young and stupid back then, scared of settling down once it came down to it. I didn't really want to leave, but I didn't know what else to do." His shoulders flopped, and he put on a puppy dog pout mixed with a little Simmer. "But I did missyou, too."
She bit the hook and returned the smile.
He gulped and moved in. He locked her eyes in place, then moved his eyes to her lips as his own soft smile puckered out. Nimble fingers moved her hair back over her ear. He leaned in.
He recited the meaningless sounds in his head three times before opening his mouth. With his eyes nearly closed, he said a small, hollow, "I love you," to her lips, then closed his own over them.
She devoured him in turn, and for the first time since all those years ago, he opened that part of himself to her. He took her wrists and lifted them away, causing her towel to drop. In its stead, his hands swarmed to cover her bared skin, then to brush her light robe off her shoulders. His mind detached from his body as his mouth connected to hers.
Concentrating hard to not think, it was easy enough to step back into any brothel, to step back into 17, 18, 19. His experience was second nature still, in playing pretend and convincing people of his character, whether it be true or not. He could certainly convince himself of a different life, especially a familiar life, for at least a night.
He laid her down, and then he lied to her, all evening long. Once she was well satisfied and sound asleep, Flynn sneaked out the window.
Eugene sneaked back in another window on the second floor, then down a hall, and proceeded to climb up dark, narrow, stone stairs around and around.
The ravenry was in the highest tower, with four windows to the four directions. He used no light, to avoid unwanted attention. But once the door was secured behind him, he lit a candle he had brought. The startled rustling of feathers he had heard now had glowing eyes in the dim light. Dozens of eyes all around the room jerked around in pairs, studying him, with a few quietly squawking in curiosity. He gently shushed them.
Eugene took a deep breath, and slowly let it go. He began creeping around, holding the candle only as close as he needed to check each cage, searching for the one labeled "Corona."
"Come on, come on… Where are you, baby… Ahah! Yesss!" He set the candle down on a nearby writing table, and snatched up the thick gloves he spotted there. However, on the table was also a wooden bin labeled "From Corona," with a few old curled up notes. Eugene picked one up, and recognized Queen Arianna's handwriting.
"Good Tidings, Vardaros! We are overjoyed to announce that Our Long Lost Princess Rapunzel, has at long last returned home safely to Corona! We shall be hosting a week-long celebration, starting on the morn of the next full moon. All are welcome to attend. We hope you can join us in celebrating her miraculous return. Best wishes, King Frederic and Queen Arianna"
A smile grew on him as the happy blur of that week flew through his mind. He tossed it down and picked up another. This one's handwriting he could not identify, but it did not look pleasant.
"Vardaros. We have received your announcement for the wedding of Eugene Fitzherbert and your daughter. Regards, King Frederic and Queen Arianna of Corona."
He suspected it was Cassandra's angry handwriting, but whoever it was, he was grateful for at least seeing his real name. Yet this one he flung back down into the bin. They know- part of him reasoned, but he focused on his task at hand. Can over-analyze that later.
Eugene fetched his own letter from under his boot spat and set it down. Then he put the gloves on, cautiously opened the bird's cage, and carefully grabbed it. Once it felt secure, it stopped struggling. He whipped one glove off, and checked the ankle tag on the raven's leg. He worked off the string-tied tag that doubly labeled its home as Corona. Once that was laying flat on the table, he popped open the small container on its anklet, slipped his tightly rolled up note inside, and capped it securely. Then he let go of the bird, but it fluttered around, gaining its balance on his hand, while he leaned away.
"Go on," he whispered with a little jostle. It held its balance, but finally hopped off to the table, stole a mouthful of sunflower seeds from a nearby bowl, and flew away. Eugene stepped toward the window to watch it, but it instantly disappeared into the dark of the night. He took a deep breath, calming down a bit. Well, it's been sent. Now we'll see what happens… Whether I'm still yours or not, bring me home, Blondie...
He was not quite finished just yet. He searched around for an inconsequential location name, possibly in the same direction as Corona. Equis. He snickered, only thinking back on his most recent excursion there and the mix up of seals. With both gloves on again, he removed the raven from the Equis cage, and headed back to the writing table. While the bird pecked away at the bowl of sunflower seeds, he carefully removed the "Equis" tag, and tied the "Corona' tag onto this one. Then he placed it in the Corona cage. It seemed confused or possibly stubborn, so he reached his hand into the cage with some more sunflower seeds for it. "Damn things're too smart…"
He immediately burned up the "Equis" tag with the candle's flame, letting its ashes drift to the floor. Then he blew it out and headed back the way he had come.
He sneaked back into the bedroom, carefully watching Stalyan's form in the bed. He slipped back under the covers, then settled in, getting ready to turn onto his side away from her.
"Mm, Flynn?"
His alarmed attention whipped to her. "Yeah?"
She turned over toward him and snuggled up to his chest.
Eugene's arms wrapped around her, even as he frowned in dreadful worry. She seemed to fall right to sleep again, but he was left to lay awake and uncomfortable until he finally slipped into sleep from exhaustion. For better or worse, their plan was in motion.
"Hmm, morning, Handsome."
Eugene woke at once and opened his eyes toward the sound. He threw himself into character in an instant. "Heyyy-" Sunshine… "Stal…" They kissed good morning, and as they got dressed, they drifted through the surreal motions.
At breakfast, everything seemed as normal as what was passing for normal. The tension actually felt lessened after what he had staged the night before. Whether he did know or not, Eugene saw the Baron give him a knowing smile, which he returned with a cringe.
"So, Flynn," the Baron commanded everyone's attention. "Ready to get back to work already?"
His pulse thudded, merely from being addressed directly.
"I've got a job for you. Somethin to get your feet wet again."
Eugene moved his head in his direction, but kept his eyes down at the old man's plate. He heard himself say, wading through guts, "What's the job?"
The rest felt like a blur.
Eugene reached the bottom of the stone steps, and slowed to a haunting stop. His stomach dropped and head went light. The books were still there; the stack had toppled over. Low on the horizon still, foggy sunlight poured in and filled the now-empty dungeon cells. He threw his hands up to his head, brushing his hair back, both in horror and as if that would help him see better. I was risking THEIR lives last night! NO!
Clacks of high-high-heels clicked on the steps behind him.
He whirled around. "Where's Lance?!" he gasped, already hyperventilating. "And Hookfoot- and Shorty?!" he cried out louder.
Stalyan leaned against the door frame and inspected a fingernail. "Easy, Rider. They're still alive."
"Then where are they?!" he seethed in a frantic building rage.
She shrugged.
They both saw the crack open up in him, from those emotions snapping. Yet he still had to play his part. "Stal- love- please," he whined. "They-"
She smirked mischievously at him again. "I thought you said I was right about them?"
"They're my-" friends. He licked his lips and rolled his eyes and head around. Step back. "This is Lance we're talking about! You know how much he means to me! And Hookfoot's just another thug- and Shorty's got dementia! They had no say on whether I deserved the princess or not!" Depressingly, he held a hand out as he shrugged to the side. "In fact, they'd probably agree with you."
Stalyan sighed. "Relax." She motioned to a servant sweeping. "They're upstairs getting freshened up while they clean out down here."
Eugene had not noticed the man. He finally began heaving sighs of relief, carefully watching how she watched him. "Alright. Thank you."
"Come on," she reached out for his hand and pulled him back upstairs.
He took her hand, and followed.
Anthony and Eugene climbed the steps to the wooden platform in the town square. A squad of the Baron's regular guardsmen accompanied them, both surrounding the platform, and swarming into the crowd of townspeople.
Anthony made an announcement to commence the day of "tax" collection. He would take care of the actual business; Eugene was just there to observe and assist. Mostly he figured it was to get him used to how the family treated this city they had usurped. He kept his eyes peeled, but he was preoccupied grimacing in general, and darting his eyes all around, looking for any clue as to what had happened since they had first come upon Vardaros. But nothing looked out of this depressing new ordinary for the city.
"Hey! Thief!"
Eugene instinctively looked toward the sound of the accuser's voice, only to find it was one of the Baron's guards who had shouted it to someone else. From his vantage point above the crowd, Eugene could see the single short skinny person darting through, trying to make their escape with a conspicuously loud jingling. Obliged to at least finish this day out in his captors' good graces, he leapt from the stage to give chase.
Once they broke out of the crowd, Eugene could finally get a better look at the thief. And he recognized them. "YOU!" he suddenly bellowed, and kicked up his pace to top speed. "Get back here, you little gremlin!"
Black hair in braided pigtails, red tunic; it was the blade-selling girl who had lured them to the Baron's trap to begin with. She looked back over her shoulder, and gasped when she recognized him as well.
Around three blocks later, she took a corner too wide and slowed as she tried to navigate between some people and a cart, heading down into an alleyway. Eugene barrelled through the people, knocking everyone over together, sending the bag of coins flying down the alley. But in the fray, he never lost sight of her. He grabbed her arm in a death grip and, as he stood up, whipped her against the wall, pinning her upper arms.
They stood gasping and glaring at each other while they caught their breath.
"Where'd she- what happened to her?!" he screamed in her face.
"That annoying girl?" she rudely sassed him.
"That girl is the Princess of Corona, and the love of my life!"
She smirked. "Coulda fooled us."
"Kiiid!" Eugene warned, getting even more aggravated. Inside his glove, he was reminded of the clunky metal around his finger.
"Look," she groaned. "I dunno. And I duncare."
"What were you-" He shook his head. "Why did you even DO that?! I know you don't know me, but so you just sold a complete stranger out, to the Baron?! You live here- you must know what kind of person he is!"
The girl continued glaring at him. "Yeah, so? You musta done something to cross him. And it was coin for another day!"
Eugene felt his anger melt away as he studied the girl's face and listened to the insight she just gave into her life. He remembered what that kind of life was like, and he remembered the other little girls he had caught. "Angry…" he realized quietly.
This girl quirked a brow, though. "Excuse me?"
He shook his head clear. "Just, what happened to her that day?"
She rolled her eyes. "She and her girlfriend went around the whole town asking for you. But then they just left."
He bit his lip. "Did you tell them anything?"
She grunted, "No."
Whether she learned that day or by the announcement letter, she knows… Will she even want to come for me? "Did she say anything else? Maybe something about that morning, or about a decision…?"
"I don't know," she sneered.
Eugene sighed heavily and hung his head. He released his hold on her, and turned to stoop and pick up the bag of coins she had spilled. He collected the stray ones, and shuffled three out into his hand. He turned back to the girl, who was still standing there, cautiously, but curious. "Here," he thrust his hand out to her.
She made a disgusted face. "I don't need your charity!"
Eugene frowned, grabbed her wrist, and smacked the coins into her hand. "Yeah. Ya do."
She looked at him like he had ten heads, but pocketed the coins anyway.
He pursed his lips, and jerked his head over his shoulder.
She still gave him a cockeyed look, but she did seize the invitation and scampered away down the alley.
Eugene sighed. He looked down at the bag of coins in his hand, then dropped his arm back down in despair. Skipping town with a bag full of gold just means forfeiting the guys' lives. He trudged back out the way he had come, scanning the area. On a wall right beside him, one of his old wanted posters leapt out at him. Eyes wide, he walked over to it and touched it. He pouted at his visage's cocky smile, then stared at the Corona Magistrate's seal, and felt tears well up. "Blondie," he spoke to himself. "You saw the real me, and you loved me anyway…" 'Someone like me' - maybe I didn't always do my absolute best, but you know I wanted to. "I'm sorry I screwed everything up…" I'm saying I was young and stupid at 19; well she's only 19! He sniffled everything back down and dropped his hand from the poster. There is so much I wish I'd done differently… I was just trying to hold on to what we had. "I tried…"
He took his sweet time winding back through the streets, but eventually came upon the townsquare again.
"Well, well," Anthony slithered, "Flynn Rider. Loyal to the Baron after all."
Eugene threw daggers at him as he marched back over with the recovered bag. He tossed it back atop the pile in the cart, then climbed up into the front seat. He slouched there with crossed arms and one foot up on the bar. "Let's get moving, Weasel."
Anthony's lips curled up in sinister approval.
Late that afternoon, Stalyan was busy with her father, and Eugene was left to entertain himself. Fearful of screwing up the pair's good mood, he kept himself away from Lance and the guys. They would all want to discuss possible plans of action, and he did not want to risk this shot. So he ventured outside alone.
Eugene counted out the length of rope in his arms. His heart was heavier than the whole of it combined, yet he felt empty even as his arms were full. In each end, he tied a hard knotted loop, leaving one wrapped around his wrist; the only way he wanted his hands tied. He played with whipping some of it around back and forth, to get the feeling back in his wrists, to stretch out his not-too-old muscle memory. Once he had practiced enough, he sent it sailing up about fifty feet, and lassoed a small spire, just like she had taught him. He tugged once for good measure, then, not losing a moment, he hopped up onto the rope to climb it. His eyes did not see the rope at all; it was golden to him. His hands felt silky strands, not sisal. His feet swung freely, as his arms and back and core did all the work, politely leaving his boots away from the radiant beauty, whether it really was only his imagination or not. He kept looking up, expecting to see her, but saw only the colorful streaks of pink and purple in the sky from the setting sun, and somehow that did not seem disappointing. He knew she had come from the sun, and that she loved him, so surely the sun smiled on him with her love, too. Even if she herself had vanished from his sight.
He felt his heart rate relax, his muscles untense, and the greatest sense of calm washed over him since their first night outside of Corona. He reached the top and found his footing without even thinking, and began collecting the rope up again. Again, he loosed it up to a higher spire, and climbed up to that one. Nowhere near the top, but with a new rampart below him, his lungs at last felt light as a feather. Sweat had broken through, but he inhaled his first breath of fresh air as if just emerging from being trapped in the depths of the sea. So soothed was he, that he let go, and fell the short drop back to that rampart.
He landed on his feet well enough, and looked around in awe. His mind had emptied but for two places he needed to know the direction of: The castle he had decided was truly his destiny, and the tower he knew he had been meant to find. The rope swung by his face and he grabbed it. Intent inside his fantasy, he took both ends, and shot one over to a spire still slightly higher. Immediately, he swung down with the other end, but had not calculated a landing spot, so this time he rolled out on a terrace as he hit the floor of it. Lost in memories of hours of practice, he threw his wrist out behind him to unhook the loop off of its hold; at the same time he leapt to his feet. Swiftly his hand switched to the other end of the rope. He stepped carefully, imagining her air-dancing right alongside him. He smirked, hearing her giggling as he tried to keep up with her.
The midpoint of the rope looped around the highest ornamental crocket of the highest spire; one slipknot around a barrel of tar pitch; the other around his forearm. He drop-kicked the barrel off the ledge. His arm was yanked up and the rest of him followed, flying up into the sky, to the very top of the castle. 70 feet below, the barrel cracked apart. As he held onto one of the crockets, another supporting a foot, he transferred the loop from his arm around the pinnacle, then leapt off. Holding onto the rope, he swung around and slowly down the entire turret, his toes stretching out as far as centripetal force whisked them and as high as gravity would allow. His eyes drifted almost closed; with both hands on the rope, he let his body hang but kicked up his legs, channeling her spirit that very first day, that day he had ignored it, but now finally understanding the absolute need for physical manifestation of that freedom.
Slowly, he came to settle out on a water spout, crouched on one knee with his other leg hanging freely down below. His head was spinning, light, and high, but the kind of high he got from dancing with her, or kissing her, or just seeing her smile. He had determined Corona was east of his position, and so he was facing eastward, watching the sky grow darker in the distance as the sun set at his back. But he smiled. "It's up to you, Sunshine."
Far, far in the distance, a light rose in the sky.
A.N: Studio's been going well but is nerve racking, and all the (real!) wedding bs just got compounded again. Like, This is some kinda joke, right? My life is hanging one thread away from Total Mess. So, sorry it took relatively way too long to get this uploaded. But also, do you know how lucky you are I didn't leave you without that last line?
Follow me at MiraNova23 on tumblr!
