Author Note: HAPPY SUNDAY TO ALL! :D :D :D Hey, would ya look at that, I AM alive after all! :D haha sorry bout the wait one and all, and I'm also sorry that this 'Christmas shot' is being put up around Valentine's Day. But if you want to wait to read it until next Christmas then by all means, be my guest! :D Second semester is a nightmare right now. It squashes creativity and time and I'm honestly supposed to be doing homework right now but I wanted to finish this up instead... Not that homework is the only thing keeping me from updating-personal procrastination issues are also at work! I'm sorry and I thank all you guys who continue to check if I'm still working on this story or any of 'em for that matter :D I'll try to keep up, but I won't be able to do as much as I should... so I'm sorry for that. Now moving on...
Anyhoo, now that we're finally wrapping up Orae, I've got about three shots I want to get done before I put up the first post on 'Tom's Story' which, if any of you have seen my profile recently (I actually put stuff on there! I KNOW! I'm surprised too!) you'll get a bit more info about-not much info, mind, but a bit more info than I have here. The following two shots will hopefully be a two-parter involving Annie and our favorite librarian's assistant, both at older ages (16 and 17/18ish respectively) I really wish I could put it up for Tuesday, but unfortunately I know that's not going to happen. Hope you guys don't mind the wait! And then the third shot following that involves the three kids at older ages as well-and that will lead into 'Tom's Story'. That's way far in the future, though, so don't put too much stock into seeing it anytime soon. But I thought I owed you guys a bit of a heads-up since I've been so bad at posting lately... Trust me, I DO have tons planned out for the future. Just getting to it is the hard part.
By the way, thanks for waiting, reading, faving, and reviewing! You all are wonderful! God bless and keep you all! :D
P.S. Did anyone else see the Tangled short? :D I did and I thought it was awesome! :D bahahaha I might do a shot concerning it... I've already gotten much of said shot written down, but I'm not sure if I like it much... your thoughts?
Soli Deo Gloira
Disclaimer: Disney owns Tangled, its characters, and its story
"Wahoo!" Thomas pelted around the outer rim of the ice pond, laughing as his skates clacked smoothly against the frozen surface of the water. Cold wind rushed through his hair as he turned the corner, gaining speed, and his eyes began to tear from the sensation. It was awesome, it was amazing, it was the best-.
Whatever 'it' was, got cut unexpectedly short when Thomas's left foot caught on a rut in the ice, and he felt himself flying through the air to land in the nearest snow drift.
"Haha!"
Thomas lifted himself up out of the snow, glaring as Harry, Jr. swooped skillfully around to a neat stop before him. The crown prince of Orae tapped his skates against the ice, grinning.
"You've got to learn how to go fast on turns and not flip off, Tom." Harry declared, his grin widening.
Thomas shrugged the snow from his shoulders, retorting, "I was doing fine—I was going faster than you were!"
"Not anymore! Ha! Try to catch me now!" Harry, Jr. tore off in the opposite direction, his skates smoothly cutting across the ice.
Letting out a shout of protest, Thomas hauled himself onto his feet and charged after Harry, Jr., yelling out various insults as he went.
"They're going to kill themselves." Annabelle remarked resignedly, watching as her brother and his friend skidded around the pond—all the while bellowing at each other.
"Probably." Harriet agreed, shaking her head. "Or at the very least get knocked unconscious."
Annabelle sighed and continued skating alongside her friend as, somewhere behind them, their respective brothers crashed into each other.
Harriet glanced at her, "So, did your mom find a present for your dad?"
"Sort-of. She wanted to get him a watch since he lost his old one… but she doesn't know what to put on it."
"'Put on it'?"
She nodded, "You know—like an engraving."
"Hmmm… sounds better than what Mom's getting my dad. I mean, he has enough cravats already."
"Is she really getting him one of those? My dad always says those are torture devices designed by women."
"That's what my dad says too—but only when Mom's not around to hear him." Her friend rolled her eyes.
Annabelle smiled, "Sounds like Mr. Harold."
"Yeah…" Harriet watched her father slide past with her younger brothers on his back. She took a deep breath, muttering, "I wish Phillip was here."
"Isn't he coming over for Christmas?"
"Maybe. He said he wanted to but I just know he's going to get distracted by a new shipment of wood."
There was a faintly surprised yelping as a St. Bernard puppy went by, its little paws slipping frantically on the ice.
"Ginger, what are you doing to those dogs?" Annabelle called, looking over to where her sister and Harriet's youngest sister were perched at the edge of the pond.
Ginger shrugged, "We're just seeing how fast they go—that's all!"
"And they like the snow!" Little Harriet argued, grappling with Porthos who was trying his hardest to escape.
"Little Harriet, this isn't snow, it's ice!" Harriet bent down to scoop up the anxious puppy, "Poor Bailey. It's all right—I'll make sure they don't terrorize you again."
Bailey whimpered in her arms and attempted to lick her ear.
"Haha—stop it! Bailey that tickles!" Harriet squirmed, making faces as the puppy's wet tongue hit her face.
Annabelle smiled, "Are you going to keep all of them?"
Her friend shook her head, setting the dog back onto the snow. "Mom doesn't want us to but Dad's trying to convince her otherwise."
"Think it will work?"
"Are you kidding? I think it's more likely we'll be able to teach the dogs how to fly."
Another puppy slipped on past, barking.
Annabelle sighed, adding, "Then again, with Ginger and Little Harriet, they might end up doing just that."
"Hello, ladies." The prince consort of Corona skated gracefully up to them, raising his eyebrows.
"Hello, Mr. Fitzherbert." Harriet smiled.
"Hi Dad." Annabelle replied.
"Are you two behaving yourselves?" He asked, even as another St. Bernard skittered across the ice behind him.
"Is that a trick question?"
"Not intentionally." Eugene easily skated over to Annabelle's other side, whispering, "Anyway, Annie, would you be so kind as to give me another hint about that present you and your mother bought for me a day ago?"
"Mom already told me not to listen to you."
"Yes, but she's busy talking to Miss Felicia and Miss Clara at the moment so…"
His daughter shook her head, "I'm not going to get in trouble just because you can't wait for Christmas."
"You wouldn't get in trouble." He murmured, glancing over to where Rapunzel was still talking to her friends.
Annabelle gave him a look that reminded him undeniably of his wife.
He shrugged defensively, "All right. Can't blame me for trying."
"If it helps, Mr. Fitzherbert, my dad's getting a cravat." Harriet told him seriously.
Eugene sighed, "Thanks, Harriet."
"You're welcome. Oh, Annie!" Harriet turned, pointing at the far end of the pond, "Looks like some of the town boys are playing hockey against King Dorian's sons! Want to go watch?"
Annabelle nodded, "Okay. See you later, Dad."
"I'll find out what it is eventually!" Eugene called.
"No you won't!" His daughter responded, laughing.
The prince consort leaned back into a pensive swoop around the lower edge of the pond. He had always been rather talented when it came to skating. About a mile or so from the orphanage there had been a lake he and his friends would often skate on whenever part of it froze over. Granted, they had not always had the luxury of skates, but he had learned the trick of it during colder winters. Now—Eugene thought, coasting gently to the center of the pond—he was a master.
Just then, something bumped into his back. He turned around, finding that his wife had joined him out on the ice.
While graceful and skilled in many other ways, Rapunzel had never been the greatest ice-skater in the world. Immediately she latched onto his front, grabbing his jacket in an attempt to keep herself from falling. She grinned nervously up at him, her fingers intwined in the panels of his jacket even as her feet slid uncertainly on the ice.
"Hey." Rapunzel said breathlessly, still trying to maintain balance.
"Howdy." Eugene smiled, setting his hands on her elbows to help keep her stable. "I thought you weren't one much for ice-skating?"
"I'm not but—Ginger asked me if I would come."
"And she hasn't even come out onto the ice yet." He commented, glancing over her head to where their youngest was now burying one of the St. Bernards in the snow.
"I don't think she likes how the skates feel on her feet and really, I—whoa!" Rapunzel slipped slightly, forcing Eugene to adjust his stance, "Sorry about that. Really—I don't blame her."
"You just don't like anything on your feet period." Her husband pointed out.
"Yeah. Um, do we have to stay out in the middle?" She asked, looking around in apprehension.
Eugene cocked his head, "You don't trust me?"
"I don't trust me is more like it."
"Well I've got you. I won't let you fall."
Rapunzel smiled gratefully, "Thanks."
"You're quite welcome." He carefully took her arm in his, nodding forward, "Now—just like I taught you—left."
"Left."
"Right."
"Right."
"Aa-and, repeat." Eugene said, smoothly helping her skate.
His wife sighed as she followed his movements, "It's no fair how good you are at this."
"It's no fair how amazing you are at drawing. We all have our talents and-," he easily stopped her from slipping again, "-our weaknesses. Shows that we're very much human."
"Humanity." Rapunzel muttered.
"It's a curse upon us all." Her husband replied, guiding her to a nearby bank. They both got off the ice and plopped down onto the snow.
Eugene picked a few flecks of ice from between the laces of his skate, murmuring, "So I was talking to Annie…"
"And?"
"She won't even give me a hint." He said, making a face.
Rapunzel gave him a smug grin, "Good. I asked her not to."
"I know." He narrowed his eyes, frowning, "Are you going to tell me anything about my present?"
Her grin widened, "You're getting it tomorrow."
"Anything I don't already know, dearest love." Eugene replied wryly.
She pursed her lips, "Hmm—yes, I can tell you something you don't know."
"What?"
"It is something that your son will not try to steal."
"That's a relief. What else?"
Rapunzel shook her head, "I only promised to tell you one thing."
"You didn't promise to tell me anything." Her husband pointed out, knocking her shoulder with his.
She returned the gesture, nodding, "True. All right—Annie and I will be going back downtown today to pick it up."
"So you had to order it?" He asked, his mind already calculating up possibilities.
"In a manner of speaking."
A yelping puppy suddenly slipped across the ice and onto the snow in front of them.
"Maybe you should also take Ginger-snap with you. I think the dogs need a bit of a break." Eugene said, watching as his wife scooped the St. Bernard up into her arms.
Rapunzel snuggled the dog, resting her cheek against her soft fur. "Can we get a puppy?"
"No."
"But Eugene, look how adorable she is!" She hummed happily and stroked the animal's fur, earning a few licks of appreciation.
Eugene shook his head, "No. They make me sneeze."
"Oh, they do not." Rapunzel replied, rolling her eyes.
"And can you imagine the sort of trouble Thomas would get into if he had a little furred monster like that to help him out? Because I can, and honestly, it gives me chills."
"That's the snow talking, dear." Rapunzel smiled down at the dog, "What a fluffy puppy you are!"
"No dogs." Eugene said firmly.
She looked up at him, "What about a cat?"
"Definitely no cats. The frog is enough trouble."
His wife's green eyes narrowed, and she corrected sternly, "Pascal's not a pet, Eugene, he's a family member."
He sighed, "I know."
"And he's a chameleon." Rapunzel added, setting the dog back down so she could go caper off to her mother.
"And he spent half the night sneezing into my ear." Eugene retorted, absently wiping at his ear. "I mean, I thought the tongue thing was bad enough…"
"He has a cold and he can't help it."
Eugene looked at her, demanding, "But why does he insist on sleeping on me? For goodness sake, he's your chameleon!"
"Because you're the warmest thing in the room." His wife said simply.
"I still don't like it." He muttered.
"Okay, if it bothers you that much, I'll ask him to stop."
"You don't have to do that."
"Promise?"
He smiled, "Yes, dear, I promise."
Rapunzel hugged his arm, murmuring, "You are amazing, aren't you?"
"That's what they tell me."
"The voices in your head?"
"Yep, and they just won't shut up."
She laughed and got unsteadily to her feet. Setting her hand against his shoulder, Rapunzel nodded over to the castle, "Want to help me to the door, Mr. Fitzherbert?"
"It would be my pleasure, your Highness."
After escorting his wife back inside, Eugene returned to where his youngest daughter was still trying to make a doggie snowman out of one of the St. Bernards.
Eugene folded his arms and said, "I thought you wanted to go ice skating, Ginger-snap."
"I changed my mind." She replied, piling more snow on top of the dog.
Eugene groaned and reached down, lifting the hapless animal out of the snow.
Ginger pouted, "But Daddy, I was-."
"Your mother-," he set the puppy back onto the ground, "-came out here specifically because you wanted to her to come skate with you. And she did skate. I mean, she also slipped a lot but she was still skating. You, however, have not even put your skates on."
Ginger tried to avoid her father's gaze, murmuring, "Lil Harriet and I were playing with the puppies."
"I can see that."
"I didn't—I was going to go out but—the skates feel weird."
"Did you tell your mother that?"
Ginger mumbled, "Well—no…"
"Did you ask her if it was all right if you didn't skate with her?" Eugene asked simply.
"No sir."
"Well, Ginger-snap, I think you need to go apologize."
She looked up at him, squirming uncomfortably.
Eugene smiled, "She's inside, sweetie."
Ginger nodded and immediately turned, running for the doors of the castle. The little girl would probably catch her mother before she was even halfway up the staircase.
Her father sighed, looking around to watch his son spin out on the ice yet again.
"You're going too fast, Thomas!" Eugene called, even as Thomas pushed himself up onto his knees.
The boy grinned at him, despite the redness on his face from where it had rubbed upon the ice. "But it's fun going fast!"
His father sighed and skated over, helping him stand upright, "It may be fun going fast but what is not fun is losing half the skin on your face. Look at me." He gingerly touched his son's forehead, earning a wince and a groan. Eugene gave him a sympathetic smile, "Yeah. That's going hurt for a while."
"Ow…"
He patted him on the back, "Stop skating so fast, buddy. Your skin can't handle that kind of friction."
Eugene straightened, and then received a snowball to the back of his head.
"Hey! Who threw-?" He turned, not noticing that a snowball knocked his son back onto the ice.
"Come on, Fitzherbert!" Harold shouted, grinning cheekily as he tossed a snowball up and down in his hand. "What are you standing around for?"
Eugene narrowed his eyes, hissing, "Oh no he didn't."
"Harry!" Thomas sprang to his feet, bellowing angrily: "I'm going to get you for that!"
Harry, Jr. and his brother Hernandez stood by their father, also juggling snowballs with wide smirks on their faces. "I'd like to see you try!" The crown prince of Orae shouted, tossing another snowball towards them.
Thomas easily ducked, but had to steady himself by grasping hold of his father's sleeve.
Eugene glanced down at his son, "Ready to show those Oraen princes how the men of Corona fight, Thomas?"
"Yeah." He nodded, already measuring the distance between himself and Harry, Jr.
"Let's get 'em."
Yelling, both Eugene and his son sped towards the place where their 'enemies' were already building a snow fort.
A few hours later, Rapunzel and her eldest daughter had returned to the watchmaker's shop to pick up the pocket watch for her husband. They waited patiently in line at the counter, listening as the bell over the door jingled and more customers filed into place. Apparently, today was pick-up day for the majority of the city's residents.
Beyond the main part of the store, Rapunzel could hear several men and one woman's voice calling out order numbers to each other. Occasionally, an errand boy would emerge from the back with whatever merchandise was required. After listening to a loud argument between a lady customer and the manager of the store, Rapunzel and her daughter finally were able to request their order.
The man wiggled his mustache irritably, reading out the receipt: "'Order 329; golden pocket watch inlaid with ivory, includes compass; message scripted across the back'." He looked up at Rapunzel, raising his eyebrows, "Is this correct?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Very well. I'll send Duke to get it. Please wait by the counter." The man turned to his errand boy and sent him scooting off to the back while Rapunzel and her daughter stood patiently at the counter.
Annabelle frowned, looking up at her mother, "I thought you hadn't decided what to put on his watch?"
Her mother shrugged, "I sent a servant down with my request this morning. He caught them just as the shop was opening."
"And they finished it that fast?"
She nodded, "Apparently. It was an easy job though—the message wasn't really that long."
"What is it?" Annabelle asked, curious.
Rapunzel tilted her head teasingly, "You're almost as bad as your father. Just wait, I'll show you in a few minutes."
"And then can we go to that store and see if they finished with Stan's glasses case?" She asked hopefully.
"Of course we can."
Annabelle sighed, looking up at the ceiling, "I hope he likes it. Do you think getting his name put on the cover was a good idea?"
Her mother replied, "Yes, I do. It's a very thoughtful gift, Annie. Stan will like it because it shows that you're thinking about him."
"Well good, because I am thinking about him." The girl said—although softly so that only her mother could hear.
"H'order three 'undred nine an' twenty." Duke had returned to the counter.
His boss nodded, "Good lad. Go ahead and give it to the young lady while I make the transaction."
Rapunzel began to fill out a bank note from the Corona treasury as Duke trotted around the counter.
"Your h'order, Miss." The errand boy thrust a carefully wrapped package into Annabelle's hands.
"Thank you." Annabelle replied, smiling.
Duke grinned widely and held out a slightly grubby hand.
"Duke, no tips!" His employer barked sharply, glaring down at the boy. "And go fetch Order 450!"
The errand boy groaned but did as commanded, scurrying off to the back of the store.
The man shook his head, muttering as he finished filling out Rapunzel's receipt, "Lad knows we don't allow tips. He's paid decently enough for what he does. Anyway, Marm-," he gave her the form, "-thank you for your business and if you have any complaints, please come after Christmas and we'll try to attend to you."
"Thank you, sir." Rapunzel nodded and led her daughter out of the shop.
They visited the leather goods store next, and after talking briefly with the managing clerk, eventually emerged from the building with another package in Annabelle's arms.
She beamed at her mother, "The case looks wonderful, doesn't it?"
Rapunzel smiled back, "Yes dear. And they spelled his name right."
"'Stanley James Issacs'." Annabelle said happily. "It just sounds like a good name."
They crossed the street and started passing by another line of storefronts. Annabelle continued talking cheerfully, clearly taking her mother's advice 'enjoy having a crush on a guy' to heart. Then they strolled by a certain store, and her conversation broke off.
"Annie?" Rapunzel frowned, trying to figure out why her daughter had stopped both walking and speaking.
"Mom, look at that dress." Annabelle said, gazing at the glass storefront.
"Which one?"
She pointed at one of the displays, "That dark purple one—right there!"
Rapunzel did as asked. "Okay. What about it?"
"You and Dad have that party tonight, right? With all the other adults?" Annabelle asked, glancing at her.
Her mother nodded uncertainly, "Ye-e-es."
"What are you wearing?"
She frowned, "Well, I have that blue gown from-."
"I think you should get this one." Her daughter interrupted.
Rapunzel gave her a sideways smile, saying patiently, "Annie, I don't think-."
"Oh come on!" Annabelle gestured at the dress again, pleading, "At least try it on, Mom!"
"Why?" Rapunzel was surprised. Her daughter did not normally exert this much enthusiasm about something that was not books or Stanley.
"Because I think you'd look really, really good in it." Annabelle answered, really fast, with a confidence that was striking.
"Do you really want me to try it on?"
She clasped her hands together in dramatics reminiscent of her father. "Please?"
Rapunzel looked once more at the dress, sighing reluctantly. "All right. Let's go see what this is about."
Annabelle grinned, "Thanks, Mom. Trust me, you won't regret it."
"I'm beginning to regret it already."
The girl snorted, "Please, Mom, you'll look great."
She smiled thankfully, replying, "Sweetheart, three kids ago I looked great."
"What are you talking about?"
"Your father mentioned something about that the other night. He may have been teasing but-." She stopped, her green eyes narrowing in determination. "You know what? I really do want to try it on now."
"Really?"
"Yes. If your father thinks I'm not half as fit as I was thirteen years ago, he's got another thing coming."
Annabelle laughed, "No kidding—knock him off his feet!"
"Let's go, dear." She led her daughter into the shop.
Whatever resolve Rapunzel had gained outside of the store, dwindled rather rapidly in the dressing room. For one thing, she still had not managed to get all the lacing done up in the back. For another, she had seen the price tag. That many zeros should be illegal, no matter how fine the fabric was.
"Mom, are you almost finished?" Annabelle's voice filtered through the curtain.
"Almost, Annie. I've just-," she felt for the ribbons at the back, "-got to finish with the laces."
There was a disappointed sigh, followed by a rustling of paper.
"Are you looking at your father's watch?" Rapunzel asked, still searching for the laces that seemed to have vanished from the back of her dress.
"Can I?" There was more crackling of paper. Evidently Annabelle had taken her silence as a 'yes'.
"What do you think?" Her mother asked, momentarily giving up on the ribbons.
"Aw… it's really sweet, Mom."
"Do you think your father will like it?"
"Considering Dad doesn't even know he's getting a watch for Christmas, I think he'll be happy with just that. But your message is really nice."
Rapunzel gritted her teeth, struggling to find the laces again. "There's a story to go with that, actually."
"What? You mean the one with the magic flower and lanterns and bla bla I've heard this one…"
"No—not that one." Rapunzel groaned in frustration, "Annie, this dress doesn't fit."
"What?"
"I'm telling you—I can't seem to find the laces so obviously-," she closed her eyes, hissing regretfully, "-it doesn't fit."
"Come out and I'll check them."
Her mother sighed, trotting out into the open, "I'm telling you, dear, I don't think-." Rapunzel was cut off by a sudden gasp.
She looked over at her daughter, frowning. "What's wrong, sweetie?"
"Mom…" Annabelle declared breathlessly.
"What?" Rapunzel self-consciously touched the front of her dress. "Is it really that bad?"
"Mom." The girl repeated, a wide, ecstatic grin crossing her face. "You. Look. Amazing."
"Amazing?"
"Ah-mazing!"
Rapunzel raised her eyebrows, replying, "Um. Well, okay, but you haven't seen the back because I can't-." She suddenly felt two hands push her forward. "Look at the mirror, Mom!"
"What are you-? Annie, if you don't-."
"Just look."
Rapunzel fought down the urge to retort and did as ordered. She immediately straightened, gazing at her reflection.
The dress fit well. Very well.
"Annie." She said quietly.
"Yes, Mom?"
"Please tell that gorgeous woman to get out of my way because I can't see myself."
Annabelle burst out laughing.
"Oh, so you think it's funny, do you?" Rapunzel asked, smiling as her daughter coutinued to giggle uproariously.
"Mom, you're hilarious. And-," Annabelle added, smirking, "-Dad's going to be speechless."
"I'm not so sure about that, dear. Your father's never had trouble voicing his opinions before." Rapunzel tilted her head, still looking at her own reflection, "Annie, could you finish lacing up the back for me?"
"Um, that might be kind-of hard."
"What do you mean?"
Annabelle shrugged, "Well…"
Rapunzel turned so that her back faced the mirror, and glanced over her shoulder. Then she realized she could see a fair amount of skin. Her eyes widened, "That's—that's quite low."
"It's awesome, Mom."
Rapunzel shook her head, demanding, "Why on earth would they be selling something so skimpy in the middle of December in Orae? For goodness sake, it's snowing outside!"
Annabelle waved her hand dismissively, "Who cares? You look great in it."
"I can't wear this!"
"Mom, please."
Her mother protested, "Annie, I'm not going to go around talking to foreign dignitaries while wearing half a dress!"
"Why not? Maybe you'll get some new treaties?"
Rapunzel narrowed her eyes, disapproving, "Annabelle Fitzherbert."
"Sorry." She grinned sheepishly. "I guess I overstepped the boundaries a little."
"Just a little."
"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just—you're the hot mom!"
Her mother glanced down in surprise, "I'm the what?"
Annabelle shrugged, "See, the girls were talking the other night… and I was just sitting there—I didn't say anything—but they were talking and said that out of all our moms, you're the hottest one!"
"Really?"
Her daughter smiled, "Well—yeah. And to be honest, Claudia brought it up first. And we all agreed—well, I kept my mouth shut—but we all agreed that you were the prettiest mom. And you are. I mean—I've always thought you were beautiful."
"Aw, Annie!" Rapunzel hugged her impulsively, replying, "Well I've always thought I had the most beautiful daughters in the world."
"Thanks, Mom." Annabelle responded happily, returning the hug.
"You're so sweet." Rapunzel straightened, gently brushing back her daughter's bangs. "All the girls are sweet—all their mothers are beautiful too. But-," she sighed, turning back to the mirror, "-I really don't think I can do this."
"We could get you a shawl to go with it."
"But what about the price?"
Annabelle arched an eyebrow, suggesting, "Wear that dress up to the counter and ask the clerk to lower the price."
"Do you think it will work?"
Annabelle nodded.
Rapunzel gave her a small, confident smile. "All right, dear. Step back and watch."
The princess of Corona sidled over to the counter where the clerk, a young man not much older than twenty, happened to be staring out the window at passersby.
"Argh, what can be taking her so long?" Eugene moaned, lifting his face to gaze across the sitting room towards the bedchamber door.
"Dad, she has to get ready." His eldest daughter replied, turning a page in her book.
"I wasn't ready when she shoved me out of the room. For goodness sake I barely had my vest on!"
Annabelle rolled her eyes.
"And-," Eugene said, holding out a scrap of cloth disdainfully, "-I grabbed the wrong cravat!"
His daughter seemed unimpressed by this declaration, and ignored him.
"Hey Dad, you got any threes?" Thomas asked, glancing up from his cards.
"What? No. No threes." Eugene answered, glancing down at where his son sat next to him on the floor.
In response, Thomas grinned and punched his father in the arm.
"Yowch!" Eugene clapped a hand over his throbbing arm. "What was that for?"
Thomas explained bombastically, "It's 'Go Fishing Punch!' I thought you liked this game?"
"Well, I—I do but—ow, Thomas-," he muttered, "-not so hard next time."
"Sorry. Your turn."
"Got any fives?"
Thomas looked around evasively, muttering, "Maybe."
His father raised his eyebrows.
"Okay, no." The boy closed his eyes, waiting for the hit.
Eugene laughed and landed a fairly even blow to his son's shoulder, earning a grunt for his efforts.
While Thomas clutched at his arm and continued to groan loudly, Ginger trotted over to plop down next to her father. She had her mother's chameleon in her hands, and was stroking his tiny back.
"Pascal doesn't like the cold." Ginger informed her father, looking up at him with concern in her big green eyes.
Eugene shook his head, "No, Ginger-snap, I'd say he doesn't. Are you taking care of him?"
"Yeah." She nodded slightly. "He can sleep in my room tonight."
"All right. Just make sure your mother's okay with it."
"Okay." The little girl turned back to the chameleon in her lap, clearly still anxious about his welfare.
Eugene patted her comfortingly on the back, "He'll be fine, Ginger-snap. Don't you worry. That frog's made of tougher stuff than anything Orae can throw at him."
She smiled, correcting, "Daddy, he's a chameleon."
He pouted outrageously, asking, "Now, are you completely sure?"
She giggled, wrapping her arms about his and hugging him tightly.
Eugene grinned, only to experience a more unpleasant feeling in his other arm when Thomas landed another punch to his shoulder.
"Dad, you're taking too long."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Um—got any-?"
"It's my turn." Thomas reminded, narrowing his brown eyes.
"Right. Go ahead, Thomas."
"Got any kings?"
His father brandished the requested card, "Believe it or not, I do."
"Aw, man." Thomas accepted the king, frowning in disappointment.
"Got any aces?" Eugene asked.
His son closed his eyes again, "No sir."
"Ha!" Instead of punching the boy, Eugene simply grabbed him up and proceeded to rub his knuckles vigoriously against his head.
"Dad—no—stop! Dad! Dad—gerroff!" Thomas struggled, grasping at his father's arm even as Eugene went on with his relentless attack.
"Who's your daddy? Who's your daddy?" Eugene demanded, scrubbing at his son's hair.
"You are! You—urmf—are!"
"And who's the best daddy in the world?"
Thomas went limp, moaning, "Dad—ugh…"
Eugene laughed, releasing his son and admiring the way his hair now resembled the backside of a porcupine. Thomas stared at him, wide-eyed, and tenderly felt the top of his scalp.
"Do I still have hair?"
"Yep. And plenty of it." He affectionately attempted to smooth down the boy's hair.
Thomas wriggled out from beneath his hand and quickly rose onto his feet, glaring at his father. He pointed at him, accusing, "You cheated!"
Eugene grinned, "Cheated? How is that cheating?"
"Well, Dad, you were just supposed to punch him." Annabelle pointed out, looking up from her book.
He shrugged, "Punching him—balding him—what's the difference?"
"Aha! Take that!" Without warning, Thomas launched himself at his father, knocking him back onto the rug.
In seconds the two were wrestling, rolling around amid the abandoned playing cards and letting out sounds of triumph and frustration. Apparently Eugene had forgotten he had a sophisticated adult's Christmas party to attend later that night. Then again, given that his son had just decided to attack him, Eugene probably felt that a retaliation of some kind was far too necessary not to enact.
Ginger quickly trotted over to the safety of her sister's chair, squeezing herself beside Annabelle and gaping at her brother and father.
Her sister sighed, closing her book, "I hope Mom finishes getting ready soon."
"Annie?" Ginger asked, turning away from where her father was giving Thomas a half nelson.
"Yeah?"
"What did Mommy get Daddy for Christmas?"
Annabelle smiled, "Promise not to tell?"
She nodded earnestly, "Mm-hmm."
"All right—come here."
Ginger leaned over, allowing her sister to cup her hands over her ear and reveal the identity of their father's Christmas present while both Fitzherbert men continued their tussle on the floor.
"Ha, gotcha!" Victoriously, Eugene snatched Thomas up and dumped him onto the sofa cushions. He then turned from his dazed son to look over at his daughters. "What are you two whispering over there?"
"Nothing." Annabelle said hastily.
Ginger simply beamed.
"Ginger-snap, I know that face means-."
"Pillow fight!" Thomas rose up from the sofa and began to batter his father with one of the frilly pillows.
The prince consort laughed, "Pillow fight? Really?"
However, when all his son did was continue to whack him with the pillow, Eugene sighed and sat down on the sofa. He then let his head fall backward so he could gaze at the ceiling, and loudly announced to the world in general: "We're going to be late."
"No we're not."
Rapunzel had evidently entered the room.
He snorted, asking, "Oh, so you didn't get lost after all?"
"Don't be so dramatic, Eugene. I was just touching up."
Eugene rolled his eyes, "For goodness sake, you don't have to look like the Empress of Auxuria, Rapunzel. It's just a party."
"It's not just any party, Eugene, it's the Annual Winter-."
"Yeah yeah yeah, and I'm-." He looked up, and words left him.
He had never seen her wear that dress before.
"Oh, Mommy!" Ginger slipped off the chair and hurried over to her mother, beaming. "You're so pretty!"
Rapunzel took her hands in hers, exclaiming, "Thank you, sweetie!"
Annabelle smiled, "You look awesome, Mom."
"And thank you too, Annie." Rapunzel turned back to the sofa. "Well, boys? What do you think?"
Thomas shrugged, giving up on initiating a pillow fight, "Color's nice, I guess."
His father carefully got to his feet, an uncertain smile crossing his face. He held out his hands, finally pronouncing, "That—that's new."
Rapunzel gave a short laugh, touching the front of her dress. "What? This old thing?"
"Pffft—yeah, that old thing." He remarked, grinning.
"Annie helped me pick it out today while we were downtown finishing our Christmas shopping."
Eugene called over his shoulder, "Annie, come over here."
"Okay." She came over to him, and was promptly pulled into a hug.
"You're my favorite oldest daughter."
"I'm your only oldest daughter." She said, carefully inching out of her father's embrace.
Eugene shrugged, "Still my favorite."
Annabelle asked quietly, "So, what do you think?"
He winked at her, and Annabelle smiled.
"Now-," Rapunzel crouched down and addressed her children, "-come here for a minute."
They obediently formed a half-circle around her, listening as she began to discuss the night's schedule. Much of it concerned brushing teeth and taking baths, as well as 'do what Annie says', which produced several disappointed groans from Thomas. Eugene did not really listen to this conversation, spending much of it standing behind his wife and admiring how smoothly the dress's skirt flowed down from her shapely hips. Somehow there was something appealing about the contrast between her fancy dress and perfume and how she dealt with their uncombed kids. She may have been a mom, but she was a good-looking mom.
"All right, promise me you'll get to bed on time?" Rapunzel asked, looking from Thomas to Ginger.
"Yes ma'am." They replied dutifully.
"Thank you." She smiled and pulled them into a hug, all three at once, adding a kiss on the head for each. "Goodnight. I love you very much."
Ginger responded cheerfully, "Goodnight Mommy."
"Night, Mom. See you in the morning." Annabelle said, watching as her mother rose to her feet.
"Mom, can't I stay up just a little longer?" Thomas asked, frowning.
Rapunzel shook her head, "No, Tom. Knowing you, you're going to get up around six in the morning anyway to open presents so you're not going to be missing much time."
Her husband cleared his throat, walking up and setting his hands on her shoulders. "Okay, kiddos, Beautiful Gorgeous and I need to get going so goodnight and get to bed on time."
"'Beautiful Gorgeous'?" She asked, smirking.
"I'll come up with a better one before the end of the night." He promised.
"Where's your cravat?"
"Not sure. Possibly stuffed under the sofa by this point."
Rapunzel sighed, "Oh well, we've got to get going or we really will be late. Annie, make sure they wash behind their ears."
"I will, Mom."
"And whatever you do-," Eugene added, already ushering his wife out the door, "-don't let Thomas destroy Harry's bedroom again."
Annabelle nodded, "Goodnight, Dad."
He gave her a quick grin before shutting the door behind him.
"Sooo-," Eugene said conversationally, looking down at the woman whose arm was now linked with his, "-what made you decide to get a new dress?"
Rapunzel gave a half-shrug, "Annie convinced me. She said I would look nice in it."
"'Nice' is the understatement of the century."
"Do you like it?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Three kids later and I haven't lost anything?" His wife asked teasingly.
Eugene grinned, admitting, "Three kids later and you're more beautiful and sexier than ever."
"Honest?" She was surprised with the sincerity in his voice.
"Yep. You are amazing. And yet-," he tilted his head slightly, "-I can't help but wonder…"
Her eyes narrowed, "Wonder what?"
"Does this have anything to do with my Christmas present?" Eugene glanced down at his wife, wiggling his eyebrows.
Rapunzel considered his question as they continued down the hallway. Strains of music could be heard as they started to descend the staircase. Intermixed with the violin notes was the garbled noise of many people talking. Listening to this sound, Rapunzel decided firmly, "No. But it would match well."
"Match well?"
"Yes. It would match well."
"Oh." Eugene said, evidently disappointed.
"What's the matter?"
"You got me a cravat, didn't you?" Her husband gave a wry laugh. "Same color as the dress, probably made of the same material—I get it."
Rapunzel smiled, reassuring him, "I didn't get you a cravat."
"What did you get me then?"
"I am not going to tell you."
"Are you going to tell me if there's a back to that dress of yours?" Eugene asked, indicating the shawl over her shoulders.
She gave a little toss of her head, "You might find out later."
He grinned, "Later?"
"Later—if you behave yourself tonight."
"I promise not to touch the eggnog."
Rapunzel breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank goodness for that. The last thing I want to hear at one in the morning is you and Harold belting out 'Hark the Herald Angels Sing' while forgetting half the words and mixing the other half up with 'The Twelve Goats of Christmas'."
"For the record, I had no idea the stuff was spiked."
"You found out the next morning, though." She replied as they approached the entrance to the banquet chamber.
"Yeah—that's a bad memory. Let's not go there." He smiled down at her, "Ready to knock the socks off every man and make all their wives jealous, my love?"
Rapunzel nodded, responding, "Just try to keep up, Eugene."
"Oho, no worries there. I will."
The Annual Winter Conference Christmas Party at Orae (or AWCCPO, for those who like acronyms) was a very pleasant time of talking, dancing, eating, and generally being adults without children for a few hours with other people who could be adults without children for a few hours. However, eventually those few hours passed on, and the evening was drawing to a close. With many 'goodnights' and 'see you in the mornings' and several 'Merry Christmases', the princess and prince consort of Corona began their trip back down the keep's hallway to the staircase and bed.
Rapunzel yawned, absently adjusting her shawl, "Eugene, what time is it?"
He patted his vest pockets, mumbling, "Hang on—let me check my-." He froze, suddenly realizing what he was about to say. Instead of continuing his sentence, Eugene began to search the pockets of his trousers, muttering, "Has to be around here—somewhere… Couldn't have—misplaced—must be… I'll bet it's—somewhere…"
His wife smiled slightly, watching as he repeatedly checked the same pockets twice before eventually resorting to searching down his socks.
"What's wrong, Eugene?"
"Nothing-," he set his shoulder against a nearby wall, yanking off a boot, "-nothing's wrong. I just—I-." Eugene broke off, slowly looking up to see the calm smile on his wife's face. He sighed, pulling his boot back on. "I may have—I may have lost my pocket watch."
Rapunzel feigned frustration. "Did you really?"
"Yeah. Sorry, 'bout that."
"And this is the one that Annie and I-."
Eugene interrupted hastily, shaking his head, "Yes, it's the one that you and Annie picked out for me and that has teeth marks and a small dent where Thomas threw it into the wall, and Ginger-snap's fingerprints on the glass. It's the one I've managed to keep up with for thirteen years and yet, somehow, I've lost it. And I don't know where it is and I'm really, really sorry, Rapunzel. I really am."
"That's okay. I'll help you look for it when we get home." She replied forgivingly.
"I've been looking for at least a month." Eugene warned.
"You haven't had it for a month? No wonder you've been late to all those meetings."
"Yeah—see, I tried borrowing one-."
Rapunzel looked at him quickly, "'Borrowing'?"
He gave a rueful grin, "Your dad didn't appreciate it very much. Apparently it was a birthday present from your mom."
His wife gasped, "You tried to steal my dad's watch?"
"Borrow! I did ask, sort-of." She raised her eyebrow. "All right—I left a note. But I returned it the next day and honestly, I think he's the one who blew it out of proportion. I ended up with a lot of paperwork to do that week and half of it I didn't even understand."
"Wow." She made a faint tsking sound. "Eugene, still stealing?"
"I apologized, and I feel bad about it, and really—he was laughing when I gave it back."
"Probably because he knew how much paperwork you were going to end up with as consequence."
"Yeah. You know, sometimes I think the only reason he let me marry you is just so he has someone to pick on."
Rapunzel nodded, "Possibly. And Mom probably talked him into it."
"And no one can deny your mother anything." Eugene noted.
"Nope." She shook her head. "In some ways she's more powerful than my father in that respect."
"Must be the green eyes."
"Do you mean, these green eyes?" Rapunzel batted her eyelashes at him.
"Yep. Sealed my fate the minute I saw 'em."
"Right." She smiled, turning her head up to look at him. "So, you lost that pocket watch?"
"Unfortunately." Eugene frowned. Was it just him, or was she getting closer?
"You know, dear, I'm rather disappointed in you."
"Are you?" He began to back up.
"I mean, it was a very-," she got closer, "-very important watch."
Eugene scooted farther away, apprehensive. "I said I was sorry."
"You did." Rapunzel gave him a slight push backwards so that his back came in contact with the wall.
"Rapunz-."
She slid her hands slowly up his chest, causing him to laugh slightly.
"That—that tickles."
"I know it does."
"Then why are you-?" He paused and turned his eyes upward. Suspended above them, strung up by some cheeky young servant boy hoping to catch a maid or two, was a cluster of white berries and green leaves.
Eugene grinned, "Clever. Very clever."
"I believe you owe me a kiss or two." Rapunzel declared smugly.
He smirked, "Or five. I'm not picky."
"Merry Christmas, Eugene."
"Indeed." He replied, already closing his eyes as her mouth met his.
Rapunzel had always been, in her husband's mind, a fairly good kisser. Even during their first few days together as a couple, she had displayed a confident competence that quite surprised him. Techniques of any kind were her strengths, and her boundless creativity was just an added bonus. And now, years later, after marriage and children and whatnot, there were still occasions when her kisses left him numb with amazement. That night, under the mistletoe in the privacy of the hallway, ended up being one such occasion.
A few minutes later, Eugene was thanking High Heaven for the wall behind him, since he felt his knees would about to give way in another second. He had his arms around his wife, and could feel hers encircled around his neck while she nestled her head beneath his chin. She smelled really good. She felt even better.
"Mmm—that was nice." Rapunzel whispered, snuggling more into his chest.
Eugene made a faint squeak of agreement.
"All right, dear?"
"M'okay."
"Good."
After another moment or two, Eugene regained some more thought mobility, and said, "So, there is a back to this dress after all."
"No there isn't, there's just-." She stopped a slow smile crossing her face. "Very funny."
"Finely made back too." Eugene commented, running his thumb along the dip in her back. "Quite a masterpiece."
Rapunzel closed her eyes, murmuring, "At least your hands are warm."
"Yep. Though I don't see why you bothered with that shawl."
"Because it's not dignified for the representative of a foreign country-."
Eugene snorted, "Country-smountry—you're gorgeous and there's no shame in that."
"I still have a reputation to uphold as future monarch."
He adjusted his arms slightly, replying, "I know. But, on a different note, I've got to tell you that moments like this make me really happy I climbed your tower."
"You're not the only one who's happy about that." She said quietly, listening to his heartbeat.
"Probably not." He pursed his lips, asking, "So, do you think those kids have gotten to bed yet?"
"Maybe."
"Washed and scrubbed?"
His wife took a deep breath, "We can hope."
"Because you know they're going to jump on us tomorrow morning. Even if we lock the door."
"I still don't know why you taught Tom how to pick locks."
"It's an important life skill." Eugene said defensively. "I just didn't know he'd use it on our bedroom door."
"Maybe if you came up with a lock he couldn't pick?" She suggested.
Her husband shook his head, "Nah, he'd figure it out. He's too smart for our own good."
Rapunzel laughed, "Gets it from his dad."
"Haha. Maybe so."
Just then, a rather out-of-tune warbling hit their ears.
"Ah-," Eugene winced, "-Harold's started to sing."
"Oh dear."
"And that fellow named Plummer joined him. Sounds like they've got the goat song mixed up with 'The Lovely Flowers of Springtime'."
"Not a good match." Rapunzel remarked.
Eugene cocked his head, hearing an unmistakable howling. "And they've added in a St. Bernard, apparently."
"Wow…"
"This is just ruining whatever romance we had so-," he gently took her by the shoulders, "-would you like to be carried back to your room, m'dear?"
His wife smiled, "If you're offering."
"All righty then. Let's see how fast we can escape the lyrical stylings of our host and his pooch."
Eugene easily picked his wife up into his arms, and quickly fled for the staircase. Behind them, the prince or Orae magnificently launched into another verse, and was shrilly interrupted by the scoldings of his wife.
Annabelle woke up the early the next morning. Barely making a sound, she slipped out of bed, pulled on her bathrobe, and crept over to her suitcase. Harriet moved slightly, shifting the quilt on her bed and moaning about Philip the Wood Duke's son and his propensity to talk about lumber. Annabelle, carefully reaching into her suitcase, listened to her friend's mumbles and had to keep herself from laughing. Then, finding what she had been looking for, the girl carefully departed, closing the door behind her.
She moved silently down the empty corridor, holding a neatly wrapped present to her chest and hardly breathing as she went down to the end of the hall. Where the staircase led downstairs, there was also a small, circular alcove with three window seats. Annabelle took one of these seats, pressing her left arm up against the chilly glass and looking out at the snow-covered mountains outside. Back home, the tide would be going out as the faintest glow of sunlight rose on the horizon. In another hour the waves would become more distinguished, showing flashes of gold as they reflected the rising sun, and the gulls would be calling.
She wondered if he would hear them.
Annabelle turned to the gift in her hands. Then she slowly tore apart the wrappings, trying to make as little noise as possible. Within seconds, Annabelle found herself holding a small, leather-bound journal. She ran her fingers over the cover and spine, admiring the softness of the handsome brown leather. The familiar fragrance of leather, new paper, and glue immediately made her homesick, and she opened the book, listening to the sound of pages rustling against each other.
On the title page was a message, written out in the same hand that had penned her name upon the gift tag.
'Annie, for all those times you have something to say, but can't, write it down. Someday you'll get a chance to say it, and I'll always be around to listen. Merry Christmas. –Stan'
Annabelle stared, quite certain she had never read anything so wonderful in her entire life.
"Annie!"
She looked up to find her brother and sister, still in pajamas, standing at the entrance to the alcove. Thomas's hair stuck up in all kinds of directions, and Ginger had Pascal sitting on her shoulder. Both boy and girl were beaming at her.
"Let's go wake Mom and Dad up!" Thomas said, hurrying to the staircase.
Annabelle smiled widely, "Coming."
She tucked her new journal underneath her arm and took Ginger's offered hand.
"Merry Christmas, Annie." Her sister said brightly.
Annabelle smiled, "Merry Christmas."
"Are you guys coming or what?" Thomas demanded, running back up the stairs to gape at his sisters.
"We're coming. We're coming." Both girls joined their brother as, with an enthusiastic hoot that probably woke most of the castle residents, Thomas charged down the steps.
Oh, and by the way, Stan bought the leather, pages, stitching and glue with money out of his own savings, and spent the previous weeks' worth of nights staying up late to bind the journal. That's right-he made the book himself. Put it together and everything. :D Gotta say, this kid is cool. Annie finds out later what work he put into the thing, but I thought I'd let you know in case I don't get around to mentioning it later.