AN: Today, we'll slowly begin to introduce some new, original characters, and we'll get to see a greater glimpse into the world of Maddoline which has been hinted at for so long now. Charles has ranted and raved about how his kingdom is so much better than Corona… but is that really the truth? Rather, are there dark secrets which lie just below the surface, waiting to be brought to light? In the upcoming chapters, all will be revealed! I'm really excited to explore this new world of political secrets and lies, because it's going to create some fun plot twists that I've been itching to write for months now. Patience is a virtue, right?
Therefore I Am by Rain Paris and Nightmare by Halsey are two songs which I really, really enjoy, and the two songs which will pose as our featured songs for today's chapter (the second of which is the namesake of my username)! I chose these songs because Rapunzel is quite the badass in this chapter, if I do say so myself. They felt perfectly appropriate when attempting to musically reflect that and her relationship with Charles.
Lastly, I do feel the need to provide a trigger warning today. One of the scenes which occurs in this chapter is something that I've had planned – but have dreaded – since I first began writing this story. I knew from the very beginning that this scene would happen eventually, but it didn't make it any easier to write. To ease your worst-case scenarios, rape does not occur whatsoever in this chapter, and will not occur in this story, ever. But there are some pretty heavy implications in today's chapter, so I just want to give a heads-up to everyone. This chapter is quite heavy, but I hope that you still find a way to enjoy it. Just remember that things will not be like this forever.
Regardless, after this chapter, you guys better be ready to riot in the streets right along with me.
Chapter 26: Not All of Us Can Afford to be Romantic
I'm tired and angry, but somebody should be…
Canmore Manor, in its grey stone glory and twisted ivy which grows along its weathered brick, sits upon an endless sea of rolling hills; which, in the summer months, often appear as a soft blanket of emerald, tall grass swaying like the slow ebb-and-flow of ocean waves. The countryside of Maddoline is entirely exquisite, peppered with endless vineyards, swaying willow trees, and sturdy, evergreen forests. It's breathtaking, the way that the sun rises behind Canmore Manor each morning, bathing the ever-reaching meadows of the vast property in a soft, golden light. It's comforting, somehow, the way that the bright rays of sunlight kiss the earth to welcome each new day, so dependable in its dawn-hour warmth.
And Rapunzel absolutely hates all of it.
She hates all of it – despises it, really – because this is not Corona. Corona: where Eugene is, where her parents are, where the golden lanterns rise above the harbor once a year – golden lanterns that led her home – and where the people are kind. Trustworthy. Not strangers. Maddoline is overwhelmingly filled with so many strangers. Maddoline is made up entirely of unfamiliar faces who do not understand that this is not her home and that it never will be, no matter how hard Charles yearns for this to be true; no matter how hard he yearns for Rapunzel to find a home in him, despite the fact that she's already found her forever home in another man entirely.
Typically, it wouldn't be quite so natural for Rapunzel to feel hateful toward anyone, toward anything. It goes far beyond her nature, and she's even a little surprised by the tight grip which pure and utter resentment for her situation has upon her mind. But with an undeniable and ruthless bitterness in her heart for this place which Charles calls home, Rapunzel hates Maddoline, if only because it belongs to her selfish husband. Really, Rapunzel has quickly come to find, she hates anything that belongs to Charles.
And perhaps, this is why Rapunzel has spent the last few months pitifully hating herself.
Right now, trapped here in the deep countryside of Maddoline, Rapunzel hates her duty to her kingdom, she hates that she was forced to marry Charles – that the economic security of an entire kingdom was placed upon her petite shoulders in such an unfair, vicious way – and she hates that she can feel Eugene's presence in her heart and all around her, only to turn around and realize that he's never going to be standing there in the way that she wishes he could be. Eugene isn't going to be standing there when she turns around, because he doesn't belong in Maddoline.
And neither does she.
It had been deemed unsafe to retreat to the palace as originally planned – the location of the recent assassination attempt on the king – and Charles had insisted that he knew the proper protocol in a situation such as this one: instead, they would retreat to his family manor, which was built deep in the gorgeous countryside on a massive, hidden plot of land. Charles had watched with wide eyes from the carriage as his father had received an arrow to the upper arm, and the horrified look in the young prince's eyes in that moment, is Rapunzel's only true indication that Charles still possesses a beating heart at all.
A small part of Rapunzel, a part of herself that she is quickly coming to loathe – an entirely annoying part of her which breeds empathy like it's going out of style – prays that Charles will never have to know the pain and agony of losing a parent. Another part of her – the sane part – remembers just how much he has taken from her. She knows that, if Charles's father has in fact passed away in the poorly-executed assassination attempt, it would simply be a direct dose of karma from the universe. Even then, Rapunzel can't quite find it within herself to necessarily wish bad upon Charles. After all, even the most cold-hearted and selfish of people can find it within their hearts to care deeply for their own flesh and blood.
It would be a brutal two-hour journey into the Maddolineon countryside; a journey which passes in agonizing silence, both young royals remaining entirely shaken by the assassination attempt in which they'd witnessed upon their initial arrival. Rapunzel often wonders if the carriage could possibly move any slower along the beaten path which leads them deeper into the countryside, and she briefly considers making a run for it into the thick forest, if only to escape from the cramped carriage with her husband.
But her skirts are far too heavy, her body far too exhausted from the pure shock of being kidnapped, the week-long boat ride from Corona and the horrendous powders. It's difficult to stand for too long without growing dizzy, and even more difficult to walk on her own merits, even for a short distance. If Rapunzel were to attempt at making a run for it now, she likely wouldn't get further than ten feet before Charles would come barreling out of the carriage after her, or before she would simply faint of dizziness.
No. Now is not the time to attempt an escape which would surely fail, Rapunzel decides with great reluctance. Now is the time to gather information, to form a mental picture of her whereabouts, and to plan a viable escape. But then, if she somehow does manage to successfully break free from Charles's clutches, she will still be trapped in a foreign kingdom. Rapunzel has no idea how to get back to the main city, nor does she know anyone worthy of her trust. Besides, if she were to leave Charles's side without so much as a plan, how would Eugene be able to get to her? Would he even be able to find her then?
She, Rapunzel realizes with utter terror and pure rage in her heart, has nowhere to go and no one to turn to. For the second time in her life, she is completely isolated by the hands of a selfish person who claims to care about her so much, that they take her in order to 'protect her.' In order to use her. There is absolutely no one here in Maddoline, Rapunzel concludes, worthy of saving her but herself. That is, until Eugene imminently arrives, and surely wrings Charles's neck for doing this to her; for doing this to them. For putting them through this unbearable misery of being ripped so far apart.
And worse, Rapunzel is entirely unsure if she's even capable of saving herself anymore. She wants to be. God, she wants to be. But the brokenness of her heart, the fog of her mind, and the exhaustion of her body all warn her otherwise, their intensity hanging over her in every waking moment like a bad omen; like a haunting voice in her mind saying, over and over again: 'This is your life now. Eugene isn't coming, and you're foolish to believe that he is, just as Charles has warned you. You're too far gone, you've fallen too far down the rabbit hole to be saved. This is what you were destined for: to be taken and taken, until there is nothing left of you.'
Really, what's left of her now? What is there that Charles – that the universe – hasn't taken from her? She's been stripped clean, a ghost haunting the halls of her own mind, and there is nothing left of her.
Several tortuous hours pass before the carriage finally finds itself approaching the long, circular drive which leads to Canmore Manor. And if Rapunzel were here in Maddoline under very different circumstances, she would be entirely delighted by the expansive meadows, twisted ivy, and weathered brick of the impressive manor; all of which looks good enough to paint, her hands twitching slightly at the very thought of capturing this undeniable beauty in the soft, early afternoon light. If she were here with Eugene, rather than with Charles, Rapunzel would grasp his hands in hers, lay him down in the grass, and draw him to her heart's content, the rolling fields behind him. They would pick wildflowers, they would explore together in the thick, evergreen forest, and they would –
"Ah, here we are." Charles smiles tightly with an unmissable twinge of nostalgia in his eyes, offering Rapunzel a steady hand as he prepares to leave the carriage when it comes to a satisfying halt, though she refuses it. "Canmore Manor."
It's clear to Rapunzel that, despite the two-hour carriage ride which they've had to recuperate from witnessing the assassination attempt on Charles's father, King George, Charles is still incredibly shaken; as to be expected. Though, he's trying rather hard to hide his anxiety now, and failing rather miserably.
"You're going to love it here, darling. I just know it." Charles babbles, his nervous energy over his father transferring into their always-awkward conversation. "Once you're settled, we can –"
"I'm never going to be settled, Charles." Rapunzel cuts him off with a pointed glare, trying her best to sound confident in her own words, as though she were trying to convince herself far more than she were trying to convince him. "I'm never going to get comfortable here, because I'm not going to be here for very long."
"Rapunzel, please." Charles lowers his voice in warning, more than aware of the carriage driver shuffling just outside the door. "We are going to be meeting my parents any moment, and I really wish that you could be on your best behavior, just this once –"
"Go to hell." Rapunzel bites under her breath, reaching for the handle of the small, carriage door, gratefully taking the hand offered to her by the silent butler standing there, shakily making her way down the miniature staircase connected to the carriage.
Charles reluctantly follows, sighing heavily as he does, taking a moment to breathe in the Maddolineon air which he's missed so much in these last several months. The front door to the manor is suddenly swung open by a young, timid-looking maid, and the unsettled-looking couple makes their way inside the impressive foyer. Charles takes a long pause to soak in the view of the expansive manor before them, appearing as though he were greeting a very old friend. The rigid prince is silent for a while as they stand there, studying the quiet foyer with a fondness in his eyes before turning back to Rapunzel, his voice gone abruptly soft in the way that it does sometimes after being so abruptly harsh only moments before.
His constant mood swings make Charles so very hard to understand, when Rapunzel wants nothing more than to understand why he is the way that he is; why he is quite this selfish, and who made him that way.
Glittering chandeliers hang from the grand foyer's vaulted ceiling and floors of expensive, imported tile chill the soles of Rapunzel's still-bare feet, the stubborn princess having refused the shoes which Charles had offered to her at least a dozen times before leaving the ship. Charles isn't particularly fond of it when his young, spirited wife doesn't wear shoes; it's improper, he claims.
So Rapunzel, though she very rarely wore them to begin with, has made an entirely conscious effort to never shove her feet into shoes of any kind since leaving Corona.
She can feel his eyes upon her now, can feel Charles watching her as she takes in the view of her temporary – or rather, what Rapunzel prays to the heavens will be nothing more than temporary – home. Rapunzel can feel him as he takes her in; can feel Charles as she tries desperately to breathe him out.
"I wish that we could've met sooner, my dear. Then, I could've showed you all of this, could've taken you here…" Charles pauses, and for one, naïve moment, Rapunzel wonders if he's worthy of just a single shred of her forgiveness; though the moment is entirely fleeting. "And you wouldn't have to be so angry at me for it, if you would've met me first. You would really be able to enjoy it, this beautiful place."
Rapunzel shifts her gaze back to her hopeful husband then, completely appalled by the ridiculous notion that she, even under different circumstances, would ever want to be with someone like him; someone who, even in the briefest of moments, reminds her so much of Gothel. Even if she'd never met Eugene – even if she'd met Charles first – Rapunzel knows that she very likely wouldn't have been able to fall in love with the Maddolineon prince. In the depths of her heart, Rapunzel knows that she always would've felt in her gut that her soulmate was elsewhere, just waiting to be found.
And found him, she would have. In every universe, in every alternate timeline of her life, Rapunzel would have found Eugene. She would have found him and she would have loved him. No matter what her life would've looked like, she would have loved him with every piece of herself. Whether Rapunzel had always been a princess or not, trapped in the tower or not, she knows that she always would have found a home for her heart in Eugene and in Eugene alone.
Somehow, someway, Eugene always would have been tethered tightly to her soul. Rapunzel has never been surer of anything than the sureness of Eugene's permanent role in the story of her life. She would've begged for him to be there, to be a part of her, would've scrawled his name in the footnotes; would've done anything to ensure that he would be an eternal piece of her, their union completely unbreakable over all space and time. And her husband, she would all but die to erase from her story altogether.
"I wish we'd never met at all, Charles." Rapunzel responds stoically, meaning every word of the harsh, brutally honest statement, watching with shallow guilt as Charles's eyes narrow once more, the hope in them burning out just as soon as it had been lit.
"Rapunzel –"
But before the young – and slightly offended – prince can get more than a single word of opposition out, another blonde man is barreling down the chandelier-lined corridor toward them, entering the wide, sun-flooded foyer with a bright, charismatic smile on his twenty-something face.
"Charlie!"
And that's when Charles's face lights up in a way that Rapunzel has never seen him light up before, letting her know that this fast approaching person – whoever he might be – is going to be very important here in Maddoline. In no more than a moment, Charles is abandoning Rapunzel's side to make a mad dash toward the other young man. Mid-foyer, the two lookalikes collide forcibly, holding one another in a fierce hug as they stumble slightly from the impact of their laughter-filled collision.
"Tommy!" Charles exclaims as he slaps the other man's back jovially with a broken laugh, sounding as though he were actually on the verge of tears. "My dear, wonderful Tommy!"
The other blonde man – Tommy, apparently – pulls back just far enough to catch each of Charles's cheeks in both of his hands. Looking on silently, Rapunzel swears that she can see the tangible tears of the other man in the glittering shadows of the sunlit foyer as he fondly admires Charles, rays of sunlight reflecting off of the chandeliers and onto his glistening, blue eyes.
Is it even possible to admire someone like Charles? Rapunzel really hadn't thought so. Then again, she's been wrong more than once before; she's been wrong about him.
She's been wrong about a lot of things.
"My goodness, you have no idea how happy I am to see you!" Tommy takes one hand from Charles's face, gently patting his shoulder. "It's been too long, brother. Far, far too long."
Brother.
That's right. Charles has brothers; three of them, to be precise. This man, Tommy, has just revealed himself as one of the three Maddolineon princes. In hindsight, this makes complete sense, considering that he and Charles are so strikingly similar in appearance. Charles pulls away from the tight embrace then, peering at the slightly-older-looking man with worry-filled eyes, his sudden, short-lived joy washed completely clean.
"How I've missed you, as well!" Charles pauses, taking a tentative breath, as though he were afraid to ask the inevitable question dancing on the tip of his tongue. "And… and Father?"
"He's alright, he's alright." The blonde man – who resembles Charles so closely that it's almost alarming – hastily reassures his youngest brother while running a stressed hand through his hair and smiling tightly, though his blue eyes still shine undeniably. "Just a scare, is all. He's got quite the nasty arrow wound, but… he'll be okay."
Tommy sighs heavily, and Rapunzel swears that she can see the weight of a thousand lifetimes on his shoulders by one wayward glance at him.
"Things have been a little… well, it doesn't matter right now. We'll figure out who did it." Tommy grins brightly again, masking his obvious stress with a winning smile, once more patting Charles on the shoulder. "And in the meantime, we've been advised to stay here at the manor for a little while. And what fun it will be! It'll be just like old times, when we would spend the summers here together as children!"
Despite their striking facial similarities, Rapunzel can sense that this man and Charles are not quite the same. This man, his eyes are soft. He's not so board stiff like Charles, doesn't stand with his hands clasped firmly behind his back at all times, and his mouth isn't constantly set into a hard, straight line. His smile actually reaches his eyes, crinkling them endearingly at the corners, leaving subtle laugh lines which will likely become even more pronounced with age. This Tommy, he seems… kind, somehow. Trustworthy, even. In another lifetime, perhaps he could've been someone that Rapunzel could trust. A friend, perhaps.
But how could anyone that looks so much like Charles possibly be worthy of her trust?
"Oh, goodness!" A hand flies to Tommy's chest, his eyes growing wide as they take in the sight of Rapunzel standing there timidly by the doorway, quietly watching the reunion of the two siblings. "How incredibly rude of me. Charles, this must be –"
"Rapunzel, this is my older brother, Thomas." Charles gestures to her stiffly then, the demeanor of the two lookalike men vastly different as he reaches for her arm, tugging Rapunzel firmly toward them. "Tommy, this is my wife, Rapunzel."
Thomas – Tommy, Rapunzel assumes, is a nickname reserved for those closest to him – smiles at her with a grin which is so welcoming, and so completely opposite of the all-knowing, arrogant smirk which Charles had greeted her with when they'd met for the first time back in Corona.
Back in Corona, when she'd still been where she was supposed to be. Before things had gotten so utterly, terrifyingly out of control and over her head. Before her entire life had imploded before her very eyes.
"And this is the infamous Lost Princess of Corona! I've heard so much about you in my brother's letters! And look at you! You're even lovelier than Charlie said you would be." Thomas gestures to her, a grand sweep of his arms in Rapunzel's direction, the irony of her 'Lost Princess' title completely lost on him. "We've been anticipating the opportunity to finally meet you for a while now. When Charlie sent word that he would be returning home with his new bride, we were all overwhelmed with joy."
So Charles has been planning to take me from Corona for a while now. How long, I'm not sure. Long enough for his entire family to know that we were coming, and long enough to be fully aware of just how much it would hurt me – how much it would destroy me – to leave.
"Well, actually, I was kind of hoping that I could –"
Rapunzel attempts to interrupt an overly-excited Thomas with no such luck, Charles cutting in far too soon, the wretched prince likely worried that Rapunzel might say something that he doesn't want her to say – worried that she might give him and his selfish schemes away. Though, as decided reluctantly in the carriage earlier, Rapunzel doesn't plan to expose the truth of her kidnapping to the light; at least, not yet. That is, until she determines who is trustworthy within the spacious Canmore manor, and who is not.
So far, Thomas is a hard read. Though he seems to be incredibly kind – different from his brother in every way other than in looks – he also appears beyond fond of his youngest sibling. A claim as painstakingly horrific as kidnapping may not be believed by Thomas, nor by the rest of Charles's family. As far as Rapunzel has gathered, Charles is the golden child of Maddoline and the spoiled baby of the family. She must, Rapunzel decides, play her cards close to the vest if she desires any chance at escaping. At the very least, until she's able to determine who might be able to help her get away from Charles, if anyone at all.
"And we're both just so thrilled to finally be here." Charles grins wolfishly, abruptly cutting Rapunzel off, not willing to take any chances on her discretion – or possible lack thereof – considering the kicking-and-screaming performance which she'd given for most of the week which they'd spent on the boat traveling to Maddoline. "Aren't we, dear?"
"We've sure missed our Charlie in these last few months." Thomas chuckles heartily in response, his bright, blue eyes crinkling at the corners, a strong hand slapping Charles playfully on the back. "Things have been rather boring around here without the baby of the family."
Awestruck (in the worst kind of way), Rapunzel can't help but stare, eyes darting apprehensively between the two brothers as Charles falls into Thomas's hand on his back, embracing his older sibling from the side. She can't help but notice how Charles seems to have his brother – and likely, everyone else in this godforsaken kingdom – wrapped around his freaking finger.
But to someone, he is good. To someone, he is family.
To someone, he has a heart.
But Rapunzel is not that someone. She cannot bring herself to believe that there is goodness within Charles, despite how badly she had wanted to provide him with the benefit of the doubt when she'd first met him. Despite her typical desire to see the good in all people, Rapunzel simply cannot find it in him. Any good within Charles has been taken from her, stripped clean, and sunk to the bottom of the sea from the moment that he'd shoved her onto a boat, taking her away from her parents and from her kingdom.
Charles had lost any sense of having a heart from the moment that he'd taken her away from Eugene, which is the worst offense of them all. To be taken from Eugene feels no less to Rapunzel than what it might have felt like if Charles had ripped her heart from her chest and crushed it in his hands, until there were nothing more left of her than futile dust.
"What do you say we get the two of you something to eat, hmm? You must be absolutely starved!" Thomas exclaims, completely oblivious to the anxious expression on Rapunzel's face at the notion of dining with Charles and his family directly upon arrival. "Mother and Father are waiting in the dining room now, and I'm sure they'd love to finally meet you, Rapunzel."
"I um… I'm actually feeling rather tired. I had a horrible trip here. I was sick the entire time." Rapunzel subtly looks to Charles in her own version of a wordless warning for him to keep his mouth shut, trying her best not to make her glare overtly obvious before smiling softly at Thomas, wringing her wrists together. "I was wondering if I could retire for the day, if that's alright. Recuperate a little."
"But darling…" Charles grinds through gritted teeth, shooting Rapunzel an equally as trepidatious look. "It would be incredibly rude of us if we were to skip a meal with my parents –"
"Nonsense! The poor girl must be exhausted after a long week of travel! A week of travel with you, no less. Let your bride rest, and we can all join one another in the morning with a fresh start! We have plenty of time to get to know one another. Fallon here,"
Thomas turns then to the pretty, young girl who had opened the door for them when they'd first arrived at the manor, who's been waiting patiently in the foyer with her hands clasped tightly in front of her, a thin smile stretched across her lips. It's not lost on Rapunzel the way that Fallon looks at Charles before she dips her head, performing a small curtsey in complacent agreement. She looks at him as though she were afraid of him, a poorly-hidden sense of skepticism shielded behind dutiful eyes.
For whatever her own reasons may be, Rapunzel understands. She understands the wary look in the young maid's eyes as she glances to Charles, even though she wishes that she didn't recognize the hidden fear.
"Will show you to your room, Rapunzel. Please, rest as long as you need." Thomas smiles warmly, patting Rapunzel's arm gently. "And if you need anything during your time here at the manor, anything at all, Fallon will act as your personal attendant."
Guiding Charles down the hallway with a kind, parting wink over his shoulder at Rapunzel, Thomas chatters on, clearly ecstatic to have his little brother home with him once more.
If only Rapunzel could partake in that overflowing joy concerning her and Charles's arrival.
"Besides, I've just procured a brand-new bottle of your favorite whiskey that I've been dying to open!"
Eugene had been here.
He'd told her, when Charles had first arrived in Corona, that he'd been to Maddoline before. He'd spent some time here with the Stabbington's in his very early twenties – actually, when he was quite close to Rapunzel's current age – terrorizing the local population by way of petty theft. She wonders if their eyes have seen the same roads, if their gazes have fallen upon the same strangers. Thinking about how Eugene has been in this very kingdom before – knowing that he's not here with her now – only makes Rapunzel miss him more.
And fuck, does she miss him. It's nearly unbearable, the emptiness in her heart when they're separated like this. Rapunzel wants nothing more than to sleep each day away, to throw up, and to scream so loud that the chandeliers overhead shatter into a million pieces. She wants to do all of it at once. To be away from Eugene is pure, agonizing hell; hell in the way that she'd never expected it to be. Rapunzel has always known that being away from Eugene would be hard – excruciating – but she hadn't realized that it would feel as though she were actually rotting away without him.
The last time they'd been able to be together, Eugene had been comforting her the best that he could while pressed against the door of a small sitting room, everyone having just found out about the affair. They'd been standing there, holding one another. Crying together.
Losing everything together, their whole world coming apart at the seams around them.
Rapunzel has pondered before (more times than would probably be deemed healthy, especially when the horrific event was still fresh in her memory), what it would have been like if Eugene had died on the tower floor in her arms – really died – and if she hadn't been able to bring him back. The thought, even though it's no more than a mere thought, had been harrowing in every possible way. She'd had nightmare after nightmare based around that one thought. The idea of Eugene leaving her in that way – the thought of having to go on and live her life without him – it would have been unbearable, too.
But in that circumstance, if Eugene had passed away so tragically in the tower, perhaps Rapunzel would've been able to find some sort of closure. She would have been able to kiss his cheeks goodbye, hold onto his hand and brush his hair from his face. She would have went down into the meadow below the tower, would have picked flowers for him, and would have laid them beside him or upon his chest. She would have sat there with him, whispered that she loved him; she would've told him so, even if she hadn't quite understood what it meant to really love someone yet. The words would've been true, regardless of her understanding of them then, or her lack thereof. It would have been horribly difficult to leave Eugene there in the tower. But at least then, Rapunzel could've found some shred of closure for herself – for him – no matter how difficult it would've been.
At least then, Rapunzel would've known that the last time with him was the last time. She could've prepared herself better for the brutal heartbreak of it all.
But now, here in Maddoline, there is no closure to be found. The last time that she'd been with Eugene, Rapunzel hadn't realized that it would be the last time. They'd known full well that they were walking a fragile line, that their secret was no longer theirs to keep; that Charles knew about them. But there was no closure to be had, no goodbye to be said. They weren't given that much. And to know that Eugene is still out there, to know that something could've happened to him, but not knowing for sure… it's eating away at Rapunzel on the inside. Because at least in the tower, she would've known. She would've known his fate, horrific as that fate was.
She misses Eugene so much. So incredibly much. To be without him is like missing a whole limb. It's like the sun retreating to the farthest planes of the earth, never to rise above the horizon again, intent on submerging her world in unescapable darkness. It's as though Rapunzel has lost a once-functioning part of herself. It's as though an entire portion of her heart has simply stopped beating, rejecting any help from the rest of her heart; rejecting any possible repair, because there is no repair to be had. She, Rapunzel has thoroughly convinced herself, is beyond fixing. She's beyond fixing, at least until she's back where she belongs and in Eugene's arms again. Then – and only then – will that missing piece of her heart once again be restored.
And Rapunzel prays that it will be. She prays that Eugene is on his way, prays that he would move heaven and earth to get to her in the same way that he'd proved he would when she'd been trapped in the tower with Gothel. She prays that Charles is wrong; prays that her husband's quipped, vague remarks about how she 'shouldn't be too sure' that Eugene is coming, are all in the name of scaring her into staying.
She prays that he's wrong, because Eugene is coming for her. Of course he's coming for her. He would rather die again than be unable to save her, and Rapunzel knows that. Now, Rapunzel realizes, so far away from him, she must trust Eugene in a way that she has never trusted him before. More than that, she must have faith in him; the blindest faith possible.
Rapunzel sighs deeply, sinking down onto the massive, satin-covered bed in the spacious bedroom which Fallon had led her to. Many agonizing hours have passed now since her arrival at the manor, most of which the young princess has spent staring off into space, thinking about Eugene; crying over Eugene. Crying for what they've lost, and crying for her own selfishness. Her selfishness, which dragged Eugene headfirst into this mess with Charles in the first place.
As the sun goes down outside the window, Rapunzel prays that Charles won't return until long after she's finally managed to fall asleep, having met his parents for a celebratory meal of arrival, and having made plans to join Thomas in the parlor for drinks for the remainder of the evening. Rapunzel had briefly considered finding a guest bedroom to sleep in, but she knows that Charles would only come looking for her and force her to sleep with him, anyway.
Picking her battles, Rapunzel has learned over the past week, is a fine art where Charles is concerned.
But her prayers, apparently, have gone unheard tonight, as the bedroom's heavy, oak door is gently pushed open. Charles meanders slowly through, quietly closing the door behind him with a lazy smile in Rapunzel's direction, registering the redness around her eyes with halfhearted empathy.
"Are you feeling any better?" He asks of her, sounding genuinely concerned, and for a moment, Rapunzel wants to believe him; wants to believe that he truly cares about her, and not just about himself.
"I'm fine." Rapunzel states plainly, staring down at her hands in her lap, not wanting to give Charles too much to bite off of.
His smile still soft, Charles crosses the room – swaying a bit on the way over – to the dresser beside their bed, pulling his tie from around his collar and placing it there on the dresser before crouching in front of her on the floor, trying to catch Rapunzel's downcast attention.
"I was really hoping that you would be happy here, Rapunzel. We're finally home, finally… alone." Charles grimaces a little, reaching for her hand. "No more distractions, no more…"
No more Eugene.
He doesn't have to say it. Charles doesn't have to finish his drawn out sentence as she yanks her hand away from his, because Rapunzel knows exactly what he's thinking. She's thinking it, too. She's always thinking about Eugene. She's always thinking about how much has been taken from her and how he, Eugene, is the worst thing that has been taken from her of all.
Rapunzel simply stares at her husband, swatting Charles's finger away as it reaches up to gently trace along her jaw. She grimaces herself as a steady flow of tears threaten their escape in response to the blank space left hanging in the air between them where the word 'Eugene' was meant to be. The haunting space where Charles deliberately left it out, if only because he knew that not saying the name – that letting the name hang there between them – would hurt worse than if he would've just come out and said it.
"No more Eugene. Right?" When Charles doesn't say anything, just narrows his eyes at the name, Rapunzel pushes on, her voice growing upsettingly shaky with her growing anxiety. Why can't I be the person that I used to be? Why can't I be strong? "This is not my home, Charles. It may be yours, but this will never be home to me."
"Perhaps not." Charles shrugs as he rises from his crouched position on the floor before her, picking nonchalantly at his fingernails, as though he were so sure that Rapunzel will eventually change her mind on the matter.
Fat fucking chance.
"Perhaps I can't force you to love my beautiful home as I do." Charles allows his hand to drop at his side, meeting Rapunzel's eye as he looms over her. "Regardless, this is where you need to be. Maddoline is the best place for you right now, Rapunzel. You might not see things as clearly as I do, but in Corona, you were so distracted by –"
"What did you think that I was distracted by, exactly?" Rapunzel exclaims, desperately searching for a way to be brave, even if her bravery is faked. "My own life? The life that I had before you came into it unannounced, and made the decision for me that I needed to leave? As though my decisions haven't been made for me for the last nineteen years!"
Charles sputters visibly at this, falling headfirst into playing the victim; a role which he has mastered quite well in the recent weeks, though he is quite obviously the villain of her story.
"Well, it's surely not my fault that your parents and your council failed to inform you of an arrangement that was made with my kingdom two decades ago, Rapunzel!"
"And part of that arrangement was to rule Corona! To stay in Corona! Not to be brought to your kingdom! Against my will, might I add!" Rapunzel crosses her arms haughtily, glaring up at him. "Was the crown in my own kingdom not good enough for you? It's not like you're ever going to have a chance at being king here."
Unless your father and all three of your older brothers die simultaneously.
"It was good enough, Rapunzel. Don't you dare forget that I dropped my life here, that I left everything that I knew, to move to Corona and marry you!"
"And somehow, I don't feel sorry for you."
"And when I got there," Charles continues angrily, ignoring Rapunzel's seething, narrow-eyed comment. "I was greeted by your felonious boyfriend, who ruined our entire marriage before it ever really had the chance to begin!"
"You never gave me a chance, Charles. You expect me to give you things that I no longer have left to give! You hold against me what I have no control over!" Rapunzel cries, wondering whether or not this is an entirely losing battle which she never should've picked. "I can't make myself love you!"
"I have given you chance, after chance, after chance to prove yourself to me, Rapunzel! To build our relationship! To give a shred of a care! Even after I found out that you were having an affair, I gave you the chance to come away with me. To build our marriage here in my beautiful kingdom, where we can focus on that marriage without distraction!" Charles seethes on and on, heaving slightly in his building outrage. "And here you are, still squandering it all! Kicking and screaming like a rotten, spoiled child!"
"And why do you think that is?" Rapunzel yells back, insinuating that her inability to fall in love with Charles has everything to do with her painful inability to fall out of love with Eugene. "Why do you think I'm acting the way that I am?"
"Because you're selfish, Rapunzel. You're selfish." Charles concludes bitterly, staring her in the eyes with no resolve; with no indication of drawing back on the brutal claim. "You are a selfish, foolish girl."
"Oh… I'm selfish?" Rapunzel sputters, placing a hand to her chest as she rises from the bed to fully face him, feeling her beating heart beneath her palm; feeling the distain pulsing through her veins.
"You know, I take back what I said before. I do feel sorry for you. I feel so sorry for you, Charles, because you don't know how to love. I feel so sorry for you, because it's clear to me that no one has ever taught you what it means to love anyone other than yourself. It's clear that no one has ever loved you in the way that Eugene loves me."
Charles flinches at the brashly-spoken name, watching with distaste as Rapunzel steps confidently forward, close enough so that their noses are almost touching.
"And for that, I pity you."
"Rapunzel, I am so fucking sick of your bad attitude. All you have done since I first arrived in Corona is whine, and complain, and cry about losing your beloved thief." Charles grabs at her wrist then, wrapping his fingers firmly around it. He leers over Rapunzel, eyes flashing, teeth barred. "Well, he isn't here. He's never going to be here. You are mine, Rapunzel, and you need to fucking accept that!"
"Charles… Charles, you're scaring me." Rapunzel struggles against his firm grip, her voice much more broken and much less confident than she'd intended it to be, though her struggling only causes her husband's hold on her to tighten. "Charles, stop."
The young prince scoffs, the clearest display of disrespect and emotional dismissal that Rapunzel has experienced since living in the tower with Gothel.
"Oh, please. You are a grown woman, Rapunzel. A wife. My wife. And you need to start acting like it." Stepping forward, Charles yanks hard on her already-tightly-held wrist, pulling Rapunzel toward him with a newly-determined look in his eye. "I've let this nonsense go on for far too long. I never should've allowed it in Corona, but we aren't in Corona anymore. Do you understand? It is absolutely ridiculous that I should have to go to these lengths to get you, my wife, to do something so simple. We should have consummated our marriage on the night of the wedding!"
No… God, no. Not that. I can't do that, I can never do that! I already gave myself to Eugene. I will only ever give myself to Eugene!
"Charles, I – I can't. I can't do this with you, I can't…" Mouth gone desert dry, Rapunzel shakes her head pleadingly as Charles slinks closer to her, causing her to shrink back in a way that makes Rapunzel feel grossly small and horribly weak. "Please. Please don't. Don't make me."
"Not so tough anymore, are we? You have a whole lot of threatening words in that pretty head of yours, and yet, when the time comes to actually defend yourself…" Charles grins, a wolf in a satin suit, thoroughly pleased with his alcohol-induced self. "You're still nothing more than a naïve, little girl who grew up in a tower. A little girl incapable of protecting herself."
And that's why you're here with me, and not still in Corona with him, isn't it?
These words – these harshly unspoken words – are the elephant in the room; so heavy and so obvious, that Rapunzel can feel them weighing down on her chest, making it painfully hard to breathe.
"Charles, stop it! I can't do this, not with you! I can't bear it!" Rapunzel rasps, begging herself not to cry until he's gone; begging herself not to fall apart in front of him. "Stop!"
In their struggle, Charles shoves her firmly then, causing her to stumble, pushing Rapunzel back onto the bed. Rapunzel catches herself on her forearms as he glowers down at her, and Charles grabs for her calf, though she immediately pushes him away. Rapunzel kicks Charles hard in the thigh, though his grasp only tightens around her leg in a fiery response.
"So, what? You'll spread your legs for a common thief, but not for your own husband? That's how you tick, that's what gets you off?" Charles laughs, then – a bitter, horrid laugh. "Seriously?"
"Yes!" Rapunzel cries at Charles as he looms over her, pushing herself up and onto her elbows, trying to be as level with him as she can from the bed. "Because I love him! I'm still in love with him! And I cannot love you, Charles!" Rapunzel deflates then, shaking her head up at him, folding in pathetically on herself. "I'm sorry."
Why am I apologizing? Why on earth am I apologizing to him? He kidnapped me. He took me away from my family, from Eugene! And here I am, saying sorry to him!? I need to stop this.
I need to stop apologizing to the people who hurt me.
Charles half-reluctantly releases Rapunzel's calf from his firm grip in response to her outburst, allowing it to fall hard against the edge of the bed. His tone lowers to a near-whisper, a look of borderline sadness crossing his face, as though he were feeling sorry for her.
"You're so brainwashed, Rapunzel." Charles shakes his head solemnly, staring at her as Rapunzel catapults herself from the bed, appalled by her husband's endless audacity. "You're so brainwashed."
"I'm what?"
"You're brainwashed!" Charles exclaims suddenly, his hands flying about as he speaks, causing Rapunzel to jump back. "You're so twisted around his finger that you can't even see the truth! He was never good for you! He's just doing what he does best, he's just… he's just using you!"
Charles stands before her, looking more like a monster than the hero that he convinces himself he is.
"I saved you, Rapunzel. I saved you from him."
Sputtering, the young princess considers slapping her husband across the face, but quickly decides against it, not wanting to provoke him into doing something completely rash. She decides against it; for now.
"How dare you? You don't even know him! You think that you do, but you don't!" Rapunzel can feel the molten anger bubbling inside of herself, threatening to blow her apart. "I know him. I'm still in love with him, and you're just going to have to learn how to deal with that! You did not save me, Charles. You're no hero. And I don't know how absolutely delusional you need to be in order to believe that you are!"
Charles narrows his eyes at this, more than willing to share his delusion with her.
"I'm no less of a hero than he is. He just so happened to find you, to come upon your tower! He only found you because he was stealing from your parents, from your kingdom! Why is it so hard for you to let go of a lowlife thief?" Charles leans forward, taking her hands desperately into his, though Rapunzel quickly snatches them away from him. "I could give you such a good life, Rapunzel! What can he give to you? Love? That's not enough, it's never enough! You need financial stability, royally-blooded children –"
"Don't you dare try to tell me what I need, as if I do not know myself!" Rapunzel glowers, Charles's sheer mention of children once again forcing threatening tears to return from their hidden place behind her eyelids, welling in the corners of her eyes now. "I need him. He is enough. Love is enough."
"That's just pathetic, Rapunzel, really. You are a princess. No, you are a future queen. And it's high time that you start acting like it! Future queens do not spend their time rolling around in the sheets with thieves!" Charles bristles, pacing the length of the room now. "I truly cannot believe that everyone in Corona, that your parents, allowed any of this in the first place."
"Charles, my parents love Eugene! They trust him, he brought me home! They have had over a year to build a trust in him. They don't know you. They certainly won't trust you. Not after this. You cannot fault them for that, nor me!" Rapunzel cries, holding a hand to her chest as though her heart were absolutely breaking from the simple act of talking about Eugene aloud. "I love him. I love him, Charles. And they've allowed me to love him, because my parents want me to be happy. You don't want that, you don't want me to be happy. You want you to be happy. When you took me, you were only thinking about yourself. All you ever do is think about yourself!"
Rapunzel takes a shallow, tear-shaken breath, bottom lip trembling in defeat.
"So don't you dare try to spin yourself as the hero who saved me, because you did no such thing."
"They've allowed you to play house, Rapunzel. That is what your parents have done. They've allowed you to live in this fairytale bubble, and it just isn't realistic!" Charles lifts his chin then, dramatically tilting his nose into the air. "Well, no more. You need to grow up and accept your responsibility. You need to act as though you are of royal blood. Not like you're a little girl from a tower, because you are not that girl anymore!"
How dare Charles bring up her tower as though he knows the details of her traumatic experience there? How dare he talk to Rapunzel as though he knew her then, as though he could ever understand what she went through there; as though he could ever understand what she and Eugene went through together.
"I have! I have accepted it, and I have suffered for it! I allowed my council to marry me to you, I accepted my fate! I did what I had to do for my people. But accepting my fate does not mean that I can fall out of love with him, and it does not mean that I have to love you! It does not mean that I have to allow you to take my body and do whatever you please with it! Whether I am your wife or not, a princess or not, my body still belongs to me!" Rapunzel steps forward, teeth gritted so hard that her jaw begins to ache, pressing a finger to Charles's suited chest. "And don't you dare talk about my tower. You have no idea what happened to me there, what happened to us!"
Charles shakes his head rapidly, having fully believed that, growing up as a royal, he knows exactly how all of this works, his ego rising so above his station that it threatens to burst from the pressure.
"See, that's where you're wrong, Rapunzel. You are the property of the Kingdom of Corona. And by law, the property of me. You never could've understood that when you locked away in a tower, and especially not when you were holding a relationship with a commoner." Charles shrugs, looking down to nonchalantly pick at a loose seam at his shoulder. "But you will learn. You can learn everything that you need to learn, right here in Maddoline. The right way, with no distractions. And when you can prove to me that you are ready, that you have let go of this little… this little, teenage fling of yours… then, and only then, will I even consider bringing you back to Corona to visit your parents."
Rapunzel can only find it within herself to stare at him for a long moment, mouth gaping as Charles rambles arrogantly on.
"I am not your property, Charles. How dare you even insinuate such a thi –"
"When you are of royal blood, this is how things are supposed to work, Rapunzel." Charles explains calmly, tone so unbelievably condescending that Rapunzel considers the idea of slapping him across the face once more. "And you need to understand that."
"You're insane if you think that I'm going to submit to your will for the rest of my life. If you honestly think that I'm going to be the good, little wife that you want me to be! If you honestly think that I'm going to spend my life taking orders from you!" Rapunzel seethes, entirely – and rightfully so – triggered by Charles's mention of the tower. "You do realize that I've spent eighteen years being mentally manipulated in a tower, don't you? So excuse me for not knowing how being married and brought to another country against my will is 'supposed' to work!"
Charles rolls his eyes then, as though all of this were nothing more than old tricks to him.
"Of course I realize that, Rapunzel. I'm not daft. And I forgive you for your upbringing. But why is it so hard for you to take simple direction? You've been away from your tower for long enough to know what it means to be a princess, to know what's expected of you!" Charles reasons, albeit unempathetically. "It's like… it's like you choose to be stubborn for the sheer hell of it! Didn't anyone ever teach you how to listen properly?"
Yes, Gothel! Gothel did! Gothel taught me how to take direction, she taught me how to listen, and she taught me not to speak. She taught me to keep my mouth shut, to believe everything that she told me, to never question. She taught me that my own desires, my own feelings, my own dreams, did not matter.
And then, Eugene came along and threw a wrench in it all, and thank the heavens that he did! And I'm not going to let Charles, of all people, destroy the progress that I have made since leaving the tower!
I will not allow him to destroy the heart which Eugene mended.
Charles smiles then, a subtle grin, the humor tugging at the corners of his lips at Rapunzel's silence. It leaves a bad taste in Rapunzel's mouth, the way that he looks at her, and she begins to back away, though she only backs herself against the brick fireplace on the wall opposite the bed.
"I kind of like that about you, you know, even though I hate to admit it. I like that you're a challenge. I had expected you to be just another boring, prissy princess. But you're not like those other girls, Rapunzel. You're different from the women that I've been with before. You're not predictable, you don't throw yourself at my feet like every girl that I've ever been with. And there's a part of me, deep down…" Charles trails a finger along her jaw, smiling wickedly as the other hand guides itself to her neck, caressing the soft skin there, and she can smell the whiskey on his breath as he does. "I like that about you. I like it, because it's driving me crazy. Its driving me crazy that you're not falling at my feet."
Because I've been too busy already falling at Eugene's feet from the day that I met him.
"Charles, don't." Rapunzel takes his wrist between her fingers, pushing him away, never wanting her husband's hands or mouth to rest upon any of the places where Eugene has touched or kissed her before. Not her lips, not her neck. Not anywhere. "Don't touch me."
"And what are you going to do about it, Princess? You're mine. That little thief of yours isn't here to protect you anymore. He's not here to distract you from your duty." Charles shakes his head, disgusted by the mere thought of her intimacy with Eugene, sneering the title. "Your duty to me."
"My duty isn't to you. It's to my kingdom. And despite how clueless you might like to make me feel, I know enough to know that this isn't how it's supposed to be!" Rapunzel cries, and the words hurt, because she knows exactly how love is supposed to be. Eugene had showed her. "You shouldn't have to force me to do this, to want you! I can't want you, Charles! Not… not in that way, not in any way!"
Charles leers forward, placing a deft hand upon Rapunzel's hip, attempting to tug her body against his, though she narrowly manages to squirm away. But before she can get too far, Charles's hand plants itself above her head and against the fireplace, prohibiting Rapunzel from sneaking around him.
"Oh… and let me guess. It was just so magical with him, wasn't it? I'm sure he stole your virginity like a real thief would." Charles scoffs, eyes narrowed violently at her. "Well, Princess, not all of us can afford to be romantic. For some of us, for well-off people like you and me, this is our job. This is what we were born to do. Our greatest purpose is to create successors for the crown, to ensure its survival! What about that don't you understand?"
"I do understand that. And I do want children." Rapunzel narrows her own eyes to rival her husband's dark gaze, painfully tired of Charles's condescending tone and constant 'I know better than you' façade. "I just don't want my children to be any part of you."
No, I want children with deep, brown eyes, and chocolate hair, and perfect, straight noses. I want children that look, and sound, and love me just like Eugene does. And I'll love them, I'll love them so much more than myself, if only I could just have the chance to –
"You know, Rapunzel, you're very lucky that I've chosen to forgive you after everything that happened in Corona. After the mess that you made. I'm sure the rumors are absolutely flying! I'm sure that your people have made a laughing stock out of me. And here I am, offering myself to you, over and over again." And there Charles goes again; dying to be the hero. "You're lucky that I still want you after you were ruined by another man. By a man like him, no less. Infidelity is incredibly unbecoming, you know. You should be thanking me for even still wanting anything to do with you, frankly."
"Thanking you? Thanking you?" Rapunzel stammers in furious disbelief. "You mean, I should be thanking you for kidnapping me?! For drugging me, for taking me away from my family, from –"
"Yes, Rapunzel, from him. I took you from him, and you will be better off for it. You may not see it now, but you are better off without him." Charles sighs heavily, eyes softening just slightly. "Someday, you will thank me for this."
Charles raises his hand once more, placing it to the side of Rapunzel's neck, attempting to draw her in.
"Charles, stop."
Rapunzel feels his other hand at the back of her dress, slowly undoing the ties there, searching for the corset beneath. The angry princess freezes then, stomach churning at his unfamiliar touch, the bile quickly rising in her throat, because she knows exactly what Charles wants. He wants her, in the most intimate way possible, and he doesn't care that she's already given herself away to Eugene.
Charles doesn't care that she's already given herself away to another man. Because for him, this is about revenge. This is about giving Rapunzel exactly what he thinks she deserves, because she had dared to have an affair behind his back. This is about revenge, and lust, and making sure Rapunzel becomes so trapped, that she'll never have a chance at freedom ever again; that she'll never even hope for it again.
"Charles, I can't. I can't, I can't –"
And then, his hands are at her sleeves, pushing them down, allowing them to fall around her shoulders. And she's curling in on herself now, whimpering for him to stop, and begging him not to do this. Begging him not to strip her bare, not to ruin her for good, and not to take from her the last of her dignity.
Not to take from her what only belongs to Eugene.
"Yes, you can. You're a princess, Rapunzel. This is your job. Just… think of it like a job." Charles states easily, leaning in to kiss at her neck, and Rapunzel is sure that she's going to throw up all over their feet. "That's all this has to be for right now. At least until you get more comfortable."
"Charles, stop." She croaks, her head beginning to spin so fast that Rapunzel almost forgets where she is for a moment, the entire world blurring together as the burning anxiety washes over her body, drowning her in wave after wave of it. "Please, stop. I can't… I can't do this. I've already –"
I've already given myself to him. I've given myself to Eugene, forever! You'll probably still see his palm prints all over my body, feel the traces of him in my hair, detect the smell of him between my –
"I know you're not a virgin, Rapunzel, and I forgive you. I probably shouldn't, but I have. That's why I brought you here, why I needed to keep him from distracting you from your duty to me any longer. So that we can be together, so that we can finally focus on our marriage as it deserves." Charles smiles, pulling away from Rapunzel's neck to look at her with something that resembles simple obsession, far more than it resembles love. "We can finally start over."
Rapunzel closes her eyes, allowing the tears to freely fall down her cheeks and the soft, quiet sobs of pleading to escape her lips.
"Charles, I can't. I can't start over, I can't… I already gave myself away! I can't do this with you, I can never do this with you! I can't… I can't give you what you want!"
Fingers placed upon her shoulders suddenly, Charles shushes Rapunzel then, strong hands willing her to stop shaking so hard.
"It's all going to be okay, Rapunzel. I won't hurt you." Charles tilts his head, tracing her cheek with a light hand, caressing her with his knuckles; knuckles which he'd used to punch Eugene the last time he'd seen him. "I care about you. You know that, you know that I care about you. Don't you?"
Rapunzel only cries harder then, wanting so badly to believe him, shaking her head and ignoring Charles's whispered question.
"You've already hurt me. You've already hurt me so much, Charles." Rapunzel allows her face to fall into her hands as she leans against the fireplace for some sort of support, completely defeated as she sobs quietly through her fingers. "You took me! You took me, you took me away from him!"
Charles reaches forward then, placing a hand to the top of her head, running his fingers through Rapunzel's hair as though he were trying to halfheartedly comfort her. The action is so reminiscent of something that Gothel would have done in an emotional moment like this, wordlessly telling Rapunzel how much she'd loved her. But she'd been lying. She'd only loved Rapunzel for her hair, not for her.
All anyone ever does is lie to her. Is that all she's good for? To be the receiver of everyone's lies?
Except for Eugene. Eugene doesn't lie to her. Rapunzel can trust him wholeheartedly – can blindly trust that he's on his way now – and maybe he's the only person left. Maybe Eugene is the only person that she'll ever really be able to trust again, because it appears that everyone else has let Rapunzel down miserably in some way since the marriage; including herself.
Especially herself.
But Charles's action so closely reflects something that Gothel would do, the way that he runs his fingers through her hair, and this fact causes something to snap deep inside of the already-distraught princess. Rapunzel lifts her hand suddenly then, angrily wiping her tears away, mouth set into a straight, furious line, the full realization of her situation hitting her like a ton of bricks and dragging her down with them.
"You took me from him! You took me away from him and I hate you for it!" With a newfound sense of bravery, Rapunzel places both hands upon a bewildered, unsuspecting Charles's chest, pushing him back – hard. "I hate you!"
Charles, stumbling slightly from her push, pinches the bridge of his nose once he's fully regained his balance. He breathes in deeply, sighing as though he were trying very hard to maintain any sense of patience at all.
"You might hate me right now, Rapunzel, but someday –"
"No! I will not thank you and I will not love you, because Eugene is coming." Rapunzel cuts Charles off, praying that her confident words are true. "He's coming, and he's going to kill you for this, and I'm going to be his forever. And there's nothing that you can do about that. Nothing."
"I wouldn't be so sure that he's on his way, darling." Charles states, nonchalantly picking at his fingernails once more; a habit which, Rapunzel has realized tonight, completely pisses her off.
There it is again. A vague comment, a warning for her not to be so sure of Eugene's ability to get to her.
"What did you do to him?" Rapunzel searches for something to threaten Charles with, though her hands quickly come up empty. The only remotely threatening tool in the room is the metal fire poker leaning against the brick fireplace, which she quickly snatches up and points to Charles's chest, trying to appear as commanding in tone and stature as she can possibly muster with angry, wayward tears still streaming slowly down her cheeks. "What the hell did you do to him?!"
"Nothing that he didn't have coming." Charles shrugs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, driving Rapunzel to actually press the fire poker to Charles's chest, piercing the expensive satin of the button-down dress shirt beneath his open suit jacket.
"I swear to God, Charles, if you hurt him… if you so much as laid a freaking finger on him –"
"What?" Charles chuckles darkly, taking the other end of the fire poker in his hand, yanking it to his right and causing Rapunzel to stumble a bit. "What are you going to do? You're here. With me."
Charles leers closer then, once again causing Rapunzel to press her back to the cold brick of the fireplace.
"So I think what you should do, is be quiet…" Charles softly traces Rapunzel's cheek with the back of his hand once more, knuckles brushing so gently against her skin that she starts to feel sick all over again. "And finally let me have my way with you."
Rapunzel's eyes flutter shut at his horrific words, because if she looks at him any longer – if she looks at Charles as he looks at her like that, lust glazing his drunken eyes over – she's definitely going to vomit on his shoes, and it's not going to be pretty.
"Charles, please. I'm only going to warn you one more time to –"
"To what? Stop?" Charles laughs heartily, running both hands over her sides, causing Rapunzel to jolt back, only to find the fireplace behind her and nowhere to run. "Maybe I don't want to stop, Rapunzel. Maybe I want the one thing that was promised to me twenty damn years ago."
"Charles –"
His hands hitch at the skirts of her dress, fully intending to yank them up her thighs as Rapunzel wiggles desperately to keep them down.
"I'm sure you taste so –"
And then, eyes closed on impact, she sinks the fire poker straight into the fleshiest part of his outer thigh.
And Charles screams. He screams bloody murder, as though the blood of another were plastered all over his hands. And maybe, in a way, the tragedy of Rapunzel's life is splattered all over him, the evidence of her pain and loss finally tangible somehow.
In the shock of it all, the fire poker clatters to the marbled floor in her shaken state, and Rapunzel wastes no time in darting toward the door in the darkened room, fumbling around and praying for some sense of direction. She bursts into the long hallway, which is lit by nothing more than the light of a single chandelier, leaving most of the unfamiliar hall drenched in darkness. Aside from the moonlight filtering in through the tall windows which line the entirety of the hallway, she has nothing to guide her but faith.
Lightning cracks as Rapunzel runs down the hallway in the near-darkness, rain pouring in loud, heavy sheets against the glass. The loud boom of thunder which follows causes Rapunzel to jump nearly out of her own skin. So enthralled in the argument with Charles, she hadn't even realized that it had begun raining, and in her state of pumping adrenaline, the unexpected noise causes her to release a small scream. Rapunzel doesn't stop running, though, making her way down the hallway and to an expansive staircase which leads her to an unknown wing of the manor.
After a rushed moment of aimless running, Rapunzel finds herself bursting through an oak door that looks promising enough; though, she has little to no choice about how promising the door actually looks, as she can already hear Charles's heavy hobbling on the stairs behind her. Without much thought, Rapunzel pushes the door wide open, immediately met with the harsh, skin-numbing pierce of a thousand raindrops, the wicked storm pelting upon her as though the cruel emotions inside of her heart had stirred up the rainstorm all on their own.
At this point, Rapunzel is shaken enough to not know where to turn, but filled with enough pure adrenaline and panic to know that she needs to go somewhere – anywhere. But she's so turned around, so foggy in the head after refusing dinner, her body still coming down from a week of being fed those horrible, horrible powders. Rapunzel realizes – the realization slamming into her no harder than the fierce rainstorm soaking her to the bone – she has nowhere to run. She has nowhere to go, especially not as Charles stomps loudly through the door behind her, nursing his bleeding leg all the while.
"You get back here, Rapunzel." Charles fumes with quick, heavy outtakes of air through the nose, one hand planted firmly on his thigh – the fire poker no longer present, Rapunzel notes – the other pointed haughtily to the ground in front of him. "You need to get back here and come inside right now."
"NO!" Rapunzel screams then, heavy sobs threatening to rip her petite, shaking body apart. She wraps her arms around herself tightly, completely disoriented and shivering furiously in the icy, pouring rain. "No, no, no! I'm not coming in! I won't listen to you! I won't ever listen to you!"
Charles stomps toward her with a distinct hiss in his voice, wounded leg dragging heavily behind him, jaw clenched so hard that Rapunzel is sure his teeth might crack inside his mouth from the pressure.
"Lower your voice, won't you? You're going to wake up the entire damn countryside!"
"Good! I hope that I do!" Rapunzel huffs, not even bothering to wipe the tears from her cheeks as she yells back at him. "Maybe someone will actually help me get away from you, you psychopath!"
Rapunzel whips her head around then, still desperate to find a way to escape. Now that he's wounded, perhaps she actually has a fighting chance at getting away from Charles if she runs really, really hard. If she never looks back, maybe she can find her way back home.
But which way is home? Which way is the harbor that we arrived from, even? We're so far from the main kingdom! If I were to run now, which way would I even go? There's nothing but thick forests and endless fields here, and I have no idea which way –
Charles takes a deep, shaky breath, as though he were trying very hard not to lose all control of himself; which, knowing Charles, he very likely is doing just that.
"Rapunzel, I swear to the fucking heavens, if you don't get over here right now, I'm going to —"
Rapunzel suddenly thinks of Eugene, his beautiful, perfect face flooding her mind. What would he do in a moment like this? What would he say?
At that, Rapunzel brings a particular finger up, raising it to the lightning-littered sky, months-worth of rage enveloping her entirely, taking over every ounce of her shaking, adrenaline-rushed body.
"FUCK YOU, Charles! I'm not coming back inside, and you can't make me!" Rapunzel drops her hand, but only when she's sure that Charles has received her nonverbal message, as well as her verbal one. She hopes that Charles knows exactly where – exactly who – she'd learned such outlandish behavior from. "I'm not going inside with you, I'm not sleeping next to you, and I'm definitely never having sex with you! I don't care if it's my job! I absolutely refuse to do it!"
Charles sputters in surprise, completely reeling from Rapunzel's inappropriate hand gesture and subsequent outburst. How dare she talk to him in this way – treat him this way – his own wife? Who does she think she is? Oh, Fitzherbert really ruined her, didn't he? She'd been ripe for the fucking picking – young, and beautiful, and promised to him – and Fitzherbert has utterly ruined her!
"Rapunzel, you'd better get your little, stubborn ass over here. You are going to catch a cold! And for the love of all good things, would you please stop being so damn difficult all the time? I mean, look what you've done to me! You should be ashamed!" Charles motions to his wounded leg with another exasperated sputter, taking a deep breath to steady himself before continuing a bit more calmly, as though to convince Rapunzel to come back into the manor with him. "Now, we can talk about this unacceptable behavior of yours once we're back inside. We'll get you warmed up, and you can even have a bath if you'd like. After that, we will be discussing your horrendous behavior —"
"No! I'm not discussing anything with you, and I'm not going anywhere with you! I'm not going to let you order me around as you please, and I'm not getting into bed with you!" Rapunzel laughs then, a harsh, bitter laugh, bit out from deep in her stomach, as though it had been waiting there all along; waiting to be released, waiting to slap him in the face with its ironic sound. "It's never going to happen, so just get over it already! There's only one person that I gave that privilege to, and you and I both know that you are not that person!"
Charles, gritting his teeth, surges forward then, taking hold of Rapunzel's forearm. He holds her so firmly that Rapunzel is sure that his fingers will leave bruises around her wrist as she thrashes about, elbowing him hard in the ribs. This causes Charles to stumble a bit, sucking his breath in hard and fast, though he doesn't let go of her arm.
"No! Charles, let go! Let. Go. Of me!"
Rapunzel continues her thrashing, though his grip only gets tighter the harder she tries to get away.
"That's enough, Rapunzel! Rapunzel, I said, that is enough!" Charles struggles against her in the pouring rain, cursing under his breath as she kicks at his wounded thigh. "Stop fighting me!"
'Stop fighting me.'
It's exactly what Gothel had said. It's what Gothel had said to Rapunzel as Eugene had drug himself toward her on the tower floor, stab wound deep in his side.
'No, I won't stop. For every minute of the rest of my life, I will fight. I will never stop trying to get away from you! But… if you let me heal him –'
No. There is no bargain to be had. Not this time. She will not give herself up, she will not give herself away to this man. It's not what Eugene would want her to do. He would not want her to submit, he would not want her to lose her fight like this. What had he cut her hair for, then? What had he sacrificed himself for if she were to simply roll over now; if she allows Charles to have his way with her?
Where has her fight gone?
It's still here. This fight, this fight that Rapunzel had when she'd fought against Gothel, it's still within her, buried deep down. It's a burning, raging fire, eating away at her insides. This fire is waiting patiently to be set free, waiting to burn this entire fucking world down; waiting to take Charles right down with her.
I won't stop. For every minute of the rest of my life, I will fight.
Rapunzel reels back, spitting in Charles's face as his tight grip releases itself from around her forearm. Charles groans inwardly, wiping at his face as he stumbles back in disgust.
"Oh, you little –"
Then, a voice sounds from above them, and Rapunzel and Charles are both quick to shift their gazes overhead, bitter raindrops blurring their vision as they struggle to focus against the storm.
"Is… is everything alright down there?"
"Everything's fine." Charles flashes a reassuring grin in Thomas's direction, trying his best not to shiver in the cold rain as he looks up at his brother from where he's standing on a wide, stone balcony; a balcony which, Rapunzel quickly assumes, must lead to Thomas's bedroom. "She's um…"
Charles lowers his voice, as though he were meaning to address his brother in a private moment (as though Rapunzel weren't still standing right beside him), whose eyes are so kind and genuinely concerned – so unlike Charles's – that Rapunzel could almost cry. She could almost cry, because she knows that those eyes, no matter how kind, have a loyalty which will always lie elsewhere.
Thomas, ignorant as he is, is eternally loyal to Charles. And likely, he always will be.
"She's a bit… unwell. You know…" Charles lowers his voice even further, and Thomas visibly strains to hear him against the heavy patter of the rain against the concrete walkway below their feet, still acting as though Rapunzel weren't standing right beside him, fully capable of hearing his pathetic lies. "In the head. The poor dear was in a tower for eighteen years, after all. She's still adjusting to the real world."
The older prince's eyes dart between Charles and Rapunzel, as though he were trying to determine what to believe; as though he were waiting for Rapunzel to refute such a heavy, embarrassing insinuation.
"Is that true, Rapunzel?"
Thomas's face, if at all possible, softens even further, and Rapunzel feels cold beneath his look of sheer and utter pity for her; cold in the way that has nothing to do with the rain. And for just a moment, Rapunzel wishes that she could've met him instead of Charles. Even if she couldn't have ever loved Thomas if she had been promised to him in marriage, instead of to his younger brother, perhaps he could have understood.
Perhaps Thomas could have understood Rapunzel well enough to know that she would never be able to stop loving Eugene. Perhaps he would've given her enough mercy in her inability to move on; far more mercy than Charles is willing to offer.
"Are you… have you been struggling? Are you not feeling well since…" Thomas doesn't want to say the words out loud. He doesn't want to offend the clearly-shaken princess, doesn't want to utter the words 'tower' without her permission. "I mean, we have doctors here, great doctors, and they –"
"I'm fine."
Rapunzel pushes Charles away, ignoring a dumbfounded, concerned Thomas, and walks back inside through the door which led her to the rain-soaked courtyard located in the south wing of the manor, taking a moment to note just how never-ending the meadow and forest stretches beyond the manor grounds.
She hadn't had a chance. She hadn't had a fighting chance.
"I just married the wrong man, is all."
AN: Please don't hate me for this chapter. I love you guys so much for sticking this angsty journey out with me; for trusting me as we near New Dream's reunion. Really, I do.
And I understand that this chapter was heavy. Who hates Charles more than ever? Please, raise your hand.*raises hand as high as humanly possible* All hate mail addressed to Charles will be happily received in the review section or at my Tumblr (youreputtingrootsinmydreamland). Personally, I can't wait for Eugene to find out about Charles's disgusting behavior in this chapter. Our man is going to, say it with me now: ~ absolutely lose it. ~ Charles will deserve everything that I have planned for him in the upcoming chapters… and in Part 2 of this story.
Yes, that's right. There's a Part 2 already in the works. But don't worry, this part won't be over for a while yet.
I know that the events of this chapter were probably hard to swallow, and it was quite hard for me to write Rapunzel in such a traumatizing situation. Charles really is a nightmare, isn't he? Don't worry, though. Things will start to look up eventually, I promise. In the upcoming chapters, Eugene will continue to make his way to Rapunzel, and the trio's rescue mission will fully ensue; which means that there's still a very bright light at the end of the tunnel. Some new themes in the plot will need to be introduced before Eugene can actually get to Rapunzel, but he will. I promise, he will. I'm really excited to write New Dream's eventual reunion, and I'm even more excited for the grand plot that I have planned for this story. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and I hope to see you in the next one. All my love.