A/N: Words fail me in the last couple of weeks, and the story is really giving me some headaches. I try my best, but writer's block seems to have moved in with me. What should I say ... Kismet's a bitch. ;)

Many thanks to my lovely reviewers: pureangel86, cacrulz and purple kimono. You made my day, guys, and without you I totally would abandon this story. Really much and greatly appreciated! Sorry that I'm not commenting the reviews today, but I'm nearly falling asleep on my keyboard (I don't even want to know how many spelling mistakes are in here). ;)

I really can't say anthing else about this chapter, only that I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think of the character I'm introducing today. ;)

Love & Peace, my friends! *waves and jumps out*

Disclaimer: Not mine. Disney's the genius.

Chapter 10

After they gathered all of their stuff, they decided to continue on their way to Darrington. Although they missed the Festival of Lights it was their best option to return to the Fitzherbert-mansion to a warm bath, cozy bed and a plate full of good food. They would have a good night's rest and tomorrow at court Flynn would present Rapunzel to the royal couple and the rest of Corona's nobles.

The plan was reasonable, well thought through. Nevertheless not all of the present company agreed on it.

As soon as the young man announced they were to return to the capital city, Max started to protest vehemently. Flynn wasn't able to make sense of his horse. Even the frog … pardon – after the reptile was part of his saving-commando he silently promised to address him properly in the future – the chameleon was strongly against the idea, waving his forelegs in front of his small body in a disagreeing motion.

Finally Rapunzel turned to her green-skinned friend, slightly bent her shoulders – holding the little one up close to her face – and started to talk to him – ignoring the looks she got from the man beside her. They discussed in whispers for several minutes and Flynn was only able to make out some of the words from Rapunzel and a few hisses from the animal.

At last the young woman straightened up again and turned around to the man and horse, Pascal once again sitting on her shoulder.

"You sure?" She asked again with a very confused side glance at the reptile.

Pascal nodded.

"Absolutely sure?"

Another nod and rolling eyes, and the girl turned around, this time addressing Flynn, "They don't want us to return to Darrington." Pascal nodded to her words, as well as Max in the background.

"Really, Sweetheart? Because that wasn't obvious at all." Flynn spoke in a deadpan voice. Should he really believe that she was able to talk to a chameleon? "Why don't they want us to return?"

She would have laughed at his face if the circumstances weren't that serious. It was more than alarming what Pascal had told her a mere minute ago, Flynn's sarcasm wasn't helping the situation at all – even if she understood him, she would have reacted in the same way. But this was neither the time nor the place to tell him everything she just learned. Therefore she ignored his question and continued, "They want us to go to the estate of some noble …," she looked up to the horse, asking for affirmation, "… a Viscount Fennimore?" Max nodded eagerly.

The young man gasped and turned to the white stallion, "Fennimore?" The animal nodded again, combined with a shrill neigh, before Flynn turned back to the young woman, surprised that she really was able to talk to the reptile, for there was no possible way for her to know about his and the Viscounts connection. To the public the Fennimore's and the Fitzherbert's were both noble families acquainted to each other, nothing more. "But why?"

Her gaze fell to the ground and she started to play with a few strands of her new hair when she answered, "Don't push it, Flynn. Let's just go to this Viscount."

The brows on his face furrowed. She was beating around the bush and he didn't like it. Something bad must have happened when she wouldn't even look at him. This wouldn't do: He wanted answers and he wanted them now. Grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her lightly, he insisted, his voice a sharp whisper, "what did Pascal tell you, Rapunzel!"

oOo

They were on their way to the estate when the noble's men already found and escorted them to their master. Rapunzel had refused to tell him anything more than to go to the Fennimore's.

His Illustrious Highness, Viscount Hendrik Fennimore, Master of the Northern Black-Lakes, Knight of the Martagon-Lilies-Order and the King's savior in the Great War, was a man in his best years, a loving husband, and a father of ten sons and one daughter. Although to the public eyes the Fennimore's and the Fitzherbert's were playing in two different leagues (for Flynn's uncle was Comte D'Artent, which made him the highest noble directly after the royal family), in truth Victor and Hendrik were lifelong friends. They met in their youth while studying abroad.

After arriving at the estate Flynn and Rapunzel were ushered into one of the many rooms, while assiduously maids tried their best to fulfill their every wish, every single one of them gasping surprised when their gaze fell on the woman for the first time, but not commenting on it.

Rapunzel was overwhelmed. Never before anyone tried this hard to make her feel comfortable, quite the opposite. With Gothel it was always Rapunzel trying to make everything comfortable for her Aunt.

However the young man beside her seemed to be used to all this attention. He knew when to stretch out his arms so the maids could take off his dirty vest. He knew when to hold out his feet, when to sit down, when to decline something offered, when to accept. Suddenly there was this noble, great air about him and Rapunzel wasn't able to take her eyes off him.

She was interrupted when the Viscount entered the room, followed by three of his sons and his only daughter. Hendrik welcomed the two young people with open arms, ordering one of the boys to go and take care of Max, and was just about to tell his daughter to be at Rapunzel's disposal, when his gaze fell on the young woman beside his friend's nephew.

"I'll be jiggered," he exclaimed surprised, taking a second look, "or am I going crazy, cause I could swear Queen Lilian in her younger years stands right in front of me."

Rapunzel blushed and averted her eyes, not sure what to answer to the man's conclusion.

It was Flynn's laughter which made her look up again. The young man stepped over to Fennimore, put a hand on his shoulder and – while gesturing with the other hand at her – announced in a happy tone, "Hendrik, meet the lost one. Meet Princess Rapunzel."

oOo

At night Rapunzel was lying in the bed of her guest suite and stared at the ceiling. To find sleep was unthinkable, there were too many things swirling around in her head. Thoughts about everything and nothing in particular. She was so tired, but every time she closed her eyes another picture appeared in front of her eyes.

Flynn in her tower. Flynn bringing her to the Snuggly Duckling. Fighting against the soldiers. Flynn wounded. Flynn healed. Gothel threatening, hair falling, Gothel dying. Flynn safe. Flynn smiling.

Flynn. Flynn. Flynn. Everything and everywhere Flynn.

After he introduced her, after Viscount Fennimore bowed before her, calling her 'Your Royal Highness', or 'Her Royal Highness' when not directly speaking to her, after some awkward moments in which she realized that she was noble, too, and not only noble, even royalty, after all those minutes she realized one thing: She was tired to her bones.

Her feet gave away under her, and if it wouldn't have been for her companion her head would have hurt a lot more the next day. Flynn wrapped one arm around her torso and slipped the other one under her knees, picking her up like she weighed no more than a feather. He refused to let one of the servants carry her to her guest suite, and after a short apology to their host and the promise to return in a few moments, he stepped out of the room and started to walk in the direction of the guest wing.

Rapunzel wasn't sure how he knew where to go but also didn't have the energy to think about it. She felt dizzy, her vision blurry, and wanted nothing more than a bed.

Soon her body was lain down on a soft mattress and her head carefully put on a pillow.

"I …"

"Sleep. We talk tomorrow." His words were soft, accompanied by a smile, his hand lightly stroking her hair.

"You …"

"I'm not far. When you need me, I'll be here. I promise."

She returned his soft smile, leaning into his touch for a moment.

His smile froze, a puzzled expression on his face, and he started to lean in. A heartbeat later he seemed to realize what he was doing and stopped in his movements. She gazed up at him, confused and kinda sad at the same time, and he decided to at least give in a little bit, softly brushing her forehead with his lips.

"Good night, Rapunzel," he whispered, "thank you for saving me."

"No," she answered back, "thank you for saving me. And, Flynn?" He gave her the sign that he was listening, "I'm sorry about what you're going to learn tonight. Please don't be mad at me that I couldn't tell you myself. Good night, Flynn."

oOo

Viscount Fennimore sat in his private parlor, a cozy fire burning in the fireplace. On a small table in between his and another wingback chair a tablet was placed, with tea and a plate with food on it. He waited for the Prince to return.

He didn't miss the looks the both of them gave each other; he was married long enough to know when a man was in love with a woman and the other way around. Still, it broke his heart when he thought about the fact that this was doomed to fail. Not everyone was as lucky as him to be able to marry out of love. Eleven children were proof enough.

Hendrik hated to be the bearer of bad news, and this time there were simply too many obstacles to overcome. For the Princess was betrothed. And although it was the most despicable man they could think of, they could do nothing against it. Lord Erevan would make sure to get the bride he was promised.

And not only would the situation with the betrothal be a swallow of a bitter pill for the young man: There was still the situation with Victor. They heard only around noon about the arrest taking place in the early hours of the morning. They knew they had no chance to get him out of the dungeons. Victor was too valuable of a prisoner. Erevan would assure that his most loyal soldiers kept an eye on him. This was his chance to get rid of one of his most powerful rivals.

The Viscount sighed, not wanting to think about the possibility that maybe this time they couldn't save someone. That maybe this time their hands were bound. The risk of outing other members of the renitency was high. Too high, a few said … Victor was their leader, this was true, but it was also him who always said that the resistance needed to be protected, no matter what. He always said it wasn't about the man, but the idea behind it.

The door opened and Eugene Fitzherbert entered the room, sitting down in the seat opposite of him.

Hendrik sighed again. How should he tell the young man that not only his love would be lost, but most probably the only family he had left, his beloved Uncle Victor, as well?

oOo

Thor thought he would need longer, but he came back soon after being sent off by Hook-Hand to find out more about the arrest – only being gone overnight. It was late in the morning when he stepped into a plain, nearly invisible pub in between two houses, in one of the darker districts of Darrington. He told the other thugs that the staff at the Fitzherbert-mansion was hysteric, because just this morning the palace-herald announced that Victor Fitzherbert, Comte D'Artent du Laventie, was found guilty of high treason against the crown and was to be hanged at noon in two days time.

The same was announced for his nephew, supplemented by the crimes of thievery, robbery, assault and resisting arrest. All in all it was not looking good for Mr. Rider, even if the death-sentencing was spoken in absence of the criminal himself. At least everybody knew that he still was on the loose.

Hook-Hand decided to keep a low profile. He knew that his friend would try everything to save his uncle, who was more of a father to the young man as the real one he only knew so shortly. Hook-Hand also knew that Flynn would need any help he could get to free the Comte, because one thing was certain: Lord Erevan would be careful. He would be accurate. And he surely was about to be armed to the teeth.

TBC