A/N: Wow, and this one's original doc says it was created February, 26, 2016. But I think we need a reprieve from Suitors of Rapunzel, so I finally cleaned this up to publish. We're back to their pretty routine love story here. I was just feeling particularly prose-y when I got most of this down way back when.
All sorts of inspired from Nefertiti/Moses (1956), Daenerys/Daario, and a bunch of Beach Boys songs… somehow…
I Will Find You
"No, no, no, no, no, no- Come on! This is all just some big mistake!"
The soldiers dragged him inside, bag still over his head and hands still cuffed behind his back, through the turns in the halls he recognized. "The Royal Family knows me, and I'm pretty sure they won't take kindly to you- uh-" He gulped as he could tell they entered the throne room.
They jostled and forced him down the aisle, then shoved him to his knees with an "Oof!" onto the familiar stiff but plush carpet. He let his head hang down; if he was brought straight here for an audience with any of Corona's royals, something was even more wrong than he had been anticipating. The sack was ripped off his head, leaving his hair wild in cowlicks, and still he kept his face down and eyes so far down he was staring down his own chest.
Finally he realized that there was already someone awaiting his delivery, who had just stirred uncomfortably on one of the two thrones. Apprehensively, he looked up, fearful of any of the monarchs it could be, especially- "Bl... Princess...?" The throne beside her was empty.
She seemed older every time, more and more like her mother everyday. But there was no denying this brunette's everlasting pixie chop. Rapunzel pushed off the arm rests of the throne, slowly rising to stand straight and tall. She wore a light turquoise blue dress, ribbed chiffon with a tight bodice, sleeveless, and full flowing skirt. Sheer chiffon crossed her breast and wrapped over her still-slight shoulders, creating the illusion of a deep V plunge down the front of her chest and over her fuller bosom. At her waist, a white lace cincher demarcated top from bottom, and from which dangled the tail of an ornate decorative belt that seemed closer to jewelry than of any function: small golden suns dripped from a larger sun at her hip. The same turquoise chiffon poured off her shoulders, caping her back and blurring her silhouette like a dream. As it fell around her in motion like a waterfall, the specks of interwoven gold reflected as if she gave off her own light.
Confident posture came second-nature to her now, but as she noticed Eugene catch sight of her, she faltered. Her arms tentatively pulled together in front of her. Her back slouched timidly. Her jittery gold-ringed hands drew in to her chest. Doe eyed, mouth agape; she was still in shock. He was here. After all this time, plotting and scheming, her plan was finally coming together.
She held up her skirts as she dropped down the few carpeted steps and collapsed to her knees before him. Level with him now, or slightly lower due to his height and her tininess. But her voice could not produce a name for him through her quiet, soft, relieved weeping.
He recoiled, still terrified of being dragged into her soul and tortured again, as always. "Your Royal Highness," he strained. "There's some mistake here- Your father pardoned me." He gulped as he realized it felt like only yesterday. "Years ago." Barely another moment of thought, and he rasped urgently, with a lover's tone, "Milites dimitte."
At the mention of her father and his pardon, her joy disappeared. Grief, instead, took over. Everyone knew her father had pardoned him; of course she remembered that. It was a day she would always remember. She remembered how he was only pardoned. A slight like that had stained everyone's relationships over the years, though they had somehow survived. But her father was not the one holding Fate in his hands anymore. And, 'send the guards away?' No, she needed witnesses. She had done her research, and was fully ready to exercise her new power.
"Please, I have my copy with His Majesty's and the Magistrate's seals, in my vest-" he pushed the side of his breast out, "You know where-..." He shook his head, coming to tears himself. "You... You have to tell them to let me go. Tell them who I really am." He continued in a snivel, unable to front his hands and wipe his nose, not unless he leapt from her side. And those fragile hands on his chest cemented him there with all their feeble hope, which he dare not fight her on.
"Don't worry," she said with a bit of cheer in her sad voice, "They were not sent to arrest Flynn Rider. They know who you are."
He sighed hard again. "Pleeease... Rapunzel. What did I ever do for you to- what could you possibly want with me like this?"
It was not public news yet, but he needed to know. She sniffled and choked out, "My father is... dying."
He was hit with shock and instant sympathy, and partially, familial grief himself. "Oh- oh, I'm so sorry," he whispered, genuinely. He winced as he asked, "Are you okay?"
Predictably, a sob escaped as she shook her head. She ran a hand over his thinly bearded cheek, where his stubble had been left to go wild in the few days it took to transport him to her. He leaned into her against his better judgment, and she tried to explain. "I'm acting reagent already, in his stead."
"So it's actually 'Your Majesty' for you already?" he innocently wondered.
She casually nodded, keeping her attention on him. She looped her hand back around and ran it through his sweat dampened hair, resituating it all where it belonged, tantalizingly trailing her nails along his scalp.
He closed his eyes, gasping and sighing at the sensations. He understood. From the moment he saw her, he had guessed her intentions. Her motive was always the same, if not her methods. Behind his back, he wrapped his fingers around the chain between his wrists, and pulled, trying to break free of all their frustrations. He let loose one concession for her, letting it kiss off his lips of old. "Blondie..."
"Eugene," she whimpered his name back in reply as she looked into the eye of his storm. As irrepressible as her dreams of him were, so her doubt rivaled them. If he ever were the one to have any doubts, it would be the end of her. "Are you still?"
Still. Yes. Of course. Always. His heart answered. But his mind, on the other hand, was not so keen to assume that it knew the full question his heart had already reacted to. "Still?" he parroted the word, but his tone simply turned the same question back on her, as if it were crazy his could ever possibly come into question. Yes, it all was, still: his trust, his love, his promise. Although, his brow wrung worried sweat droplets from it, as if all might not actually still be well, as if his royal lover really could ever fathom throwing him into a cell, let alone worse.
A smile finally sprouted with a giggle; her answer the same as well. She still waited for him, still believed in him, still loved him. Only him. Her forehead smoothed, and cheeks bunched up.
He grimaced; he knew they were in love. That was what made everything in the world around them so awful. Their love burned like such a hell, that nowadays he fantasized of drowning in a sea of unrequited tears, or being smothered by a cloud of noncommittal fog. For now, any of her aromatic air he breathed only served to stoke those embers. And he could have no peace while she merely yanked his chain far across kingdoms, instead of mercifully dropping his noose to a short stop.
The delicately dressed princess knelt there before her dirtied prisoner, her soft hands on his hard shoulders. She had waited too patiently, for too long, to let him deny his Destiny one more day. This knave belonged to her, since he had given himself up all those years ago, and in their years of partnered sin ever since.
It was his hands she saw in her mirror every morning and night. Every time, it was his hands setting her free, not her maids' hands fussing with ties, futilely rebinding the indomitable too-short ends. Her reflection would crease at the memory, but she only saw his sacrifice facing her, only his apologetic eyes, only his last contented smile. She hated mirrors, but was always thankful for their sharp, cutting edge truths. But the truth brought before her today was no flashback. He was real, and the only truth he reflected now was his unkillable love, which she finally held captive.
Her teenaged self had thought him a full grown man before, but ten more years of chiseling had hewed out an even rougher rogue at 36, and her new posh lifestyle had been generous to her by 28.
Behind his back, Eugene slowly released the chain and casually clasped his hands together. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his back, analyzing her and everyone around them. "You didn't have me brought here about a crown, like they said..." he whispered at last, bewildered but accusing, as he stared at their old piece of past circumstance atop her head. If not about a crime, then, just 'cause of her father? Or...?
Rapunzel huffed a little laugh. "Oh, but I did."
Eugene chuckled and shook his head. "No, you didn't."
She pursed her lips in a sour smile and nodded smugly. "Mm-hmm!" she hummed long and loud.
"Nooo you didn't," he repeated in a cutesy voice, still shaking his head.
"Hah," she threw her head back a little at the face he made, but still rebuked him. "Yes, I did."
"Well, yours was the only one I was ever interested in," he said in the manner of a come-on. Under his breath he hissed a whisper to her, disguised in the same sweetness. "Milites dimitte."
She blushed and played right back. "I seem to remember you losing interest in this crown pretty quickly." But again, she ignored his plea.
"Only for the prettier crown beneath it." He flashed his refined smolder for her. Whatever reason he was here for, he saw no reason not to enjoy a reprieve from heartache. He had easily kept his flirtatious mind sharp over the years, but rarely got to play the game with her. And their game was his favorite.
"You didn't fall for my 'crown,'" she ran a coveted hand through her own hair, "You freed me from it."
Eugene stared openly. "So I did. So, mea nova somnia, what's a hero like me doing back in chains like these?"
A knowing smile sparked across Rapunzel's features. "Et mea es."
His smile flashed; he knew it, but found pride in hearing firsthand that she did still study what he had first helped tutor her in. He knew she loved hearing anything he said in her royal tongue, but especially all the infinite love that was always held in his secret declaration, 'my new dream.' And, just the same, he knew and especially loved hearing her claim him in return. Then again, if she understood, why had she not sent the guards away?
Rapunzel continued, answering his question. "And you are a hero, but still a thief."
"Excuse me?" he balked, his face scrunched quizzically, though nothing could wipe that smile off now.
"Once a thief, always a thief," she said in whimsical sing-song.
"And what, pray tell, have I stolen?" he squinted at her. "The veritable ARMYyou sent after me has yet to speak a true word." His dark smile shifted to a smirk.
"Ohhh, you know what you've done," she mused.
"Whatever Max says, you know he's lying," he shrugged off as he shook his head.
"You, Mr. Fitzherbert, have stolen my heart."
He paused a beat at the naked truth, however cliché. "Have I now," he gasped. "Well, I'm afraid I've misplaced it. Perhaps you could refresh my memory?"
"You've forgotten?" she squeaked, and for a moment, her expression fell as her breath was ensnared in terror.
"Nearly," he smirked slyly. "Meo corde, milites dimitte. Delectabi-"
As he muttered, she sighed a little relief. Grounded enough again to cut him off, she resumed her sultry tone, "Hmm, I already have 'your heart.' But what is it you need a reminder of then?"
"Of what it was like to love you." A prepared line, he had been waiting the past few moments to recite. He said it directly to her eyes, with just a small twinge of his brow and quiver in his lips.
Rapunzel started at such a response. Despite any experience she ever gained, people still did not care to treat her like much of an adult. Gazing back into Eugene's eyes, edged with little crows feet, he raised them up to her as his worship. He always made her feel grown-up; but now she feared she felt unexpectedly old. Had it been so long? She quietly continued, "I think you'll find it again. You always do."
"Lose these shackles and I'll see if I can find you again."
She still smiled as impishly as ever, yet shook her head.
"Oh, c'mon," he grinned widely with laugh lines folding under, at her fair cuteness. "I know where you like to hide - alone with your books, a jug of wine... Say around, 7?" He cocked a single well-worked brow. "I'll meet you at the usual spot?"
They both chuckled. "You & your mouth, always running off!"
"Well I need someone to run with; it's no fun alone anymore." His expression faltered a bit. She's always a stubborn flirt, and as much as I'm enjoying myself, why won't she yield anything? He wrung his hands together behind him.
"I could imagine a better partner."
"You could? Better than me?" he was taken aback, and furthermore, immediately regretted blurting that out in the company of the guards, and proving to her that his own guard was down. Not that he entirely believed her.
Rapunzel merely giggled at his redundant jealousy. "Than you..." She waited til she saw the self-doubt spread wide and clear, devastating his face once more. "For your mouth," she finished as she nonchalantly looked away. A glance back, and he was squinting and biting his lip at being had.
Eugene licked his lips and rolled his tongue in his mouth, remembering how sweet indeed this old partner always tasted on his mouth. He glanced away and cleared his throat. "There's not a, uh, Mister Princess Rapunzel, if I'm still up to date?"
She grinned fully. "Correct. There is not."
"Ah, then I'm sure with my skills, I bet I could indeed, satisfactorily, find you before the sun rises again."
That earned a deadpan as her brow slowly rose.
Undeterred, he repeated a line he had amused them with many a time before in these situations. "You know I am always ready and willing to dishonorably serve my kingdom, my Princess."
"Hmm, or you could do what I brought you here to do." Her voice chirped, though she seemed so serious. Anyone would swear she never seemed more regal, and he never felt so forlornly weak at her mercy.
Worn down, Eugene finally back pedaled. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. My life is yours." He bowed his head and flared out his palms as much as the chain allowed. "You know that. But whatever service you wish of me, I have done nothing of late to warrant being bound before you," he raised his pleading, hurt eyes to her once more, "Of all people?"
Rapunzel smirked again, sympathetically this time. "You wanted a reminder?"
He leaned away, unsure where she was going.
Her hands followed him, fingers unabashedly tracing his exposed clavicles, out to the edges of his leather doublet's collar. "Of what... loving me felt like?"
He gulped and gasped audibly at her halting invasion. Suddenly, she yanked the collar so hard, that he pitched forward on his knees with a small coughing noise. He remained held up only by her good graces. Her spiky-ended hair simultaneously brushed his face as she leaned down to his ear.
Would he ever know what mercy she did dole out, in not nibbling that earlobe she knew so well? To not make him a moaning sap before all these guards still diligently lining the walls.
"I'm prepared to offer you a deal."
"Deal?!" He tried to throw his head back, in joyous recognition. His wrists writhed against the restraints, helpless to balance or catch himself of his own accord. Oh, he remembered this alright.
She leaned back to face him as well, but kept him teetering on his knee caps.
He smiled crookedly as his brows pinched together, openly admiring her, as only she could make him even dream of.
"If you want out of these handcuffs, if you want to ever see me again, or even be welcome in Corona," she directed sternly, "You will take what I am offering here."
Though confused, he nodded. "Alright."
She reached up to a servant far across the room, and snapped her fingers.
Eugene followed her hand; another tiny thing he cherished teaching her. She then returned her attention to him; she pushed him, allowing him to rest back.
The servant quickly appeared at her side, holding a sizable hinged box made of polished wood, with a cushioned purple velvet top, embroidered with the golden sun emblem, and carved with more swirls and symbols all around.
His eyes went wide at the exquisiteness of the box. "Blondie..." he gasped, "What is this...?" A gift?
"Promise not to freak out?" her smile turned adorably shy once more.
Without thinking he emphatically answered, "No. Blondie, what are you doing?" 'To even be welcome in Corona again,' -if I ever want to see her again?! What on Earth did I just agree to?!
She hesitated, to take in his reaction and sigh contentedly. "What my father should have done ten years ago."
At the same time, the shackles clicked open behind him. Eugene's mouth fell open and his eyes dilated further. His shoulders fell as he brought his hands around to rub his wrists. 'No' still waited on the tip of his tongue, for he suspected what was coming.
"Eugene Fitzherbert," she announced, "You have served The Kingdom of Corona and her interests in more than we could ever measure. You found and rescued myself, The Lost Princess, ten years ago. In years since, you have served as both a trustworthy messenger across our own lands, and as an operative gathering invaluable intel while protecting our own. You have defended Corona in her times of need and protected her people."
Eugene wrung his hands before him as he lowered them, more uncomfortable with her commendations than anything else in the situation. "I didn't rescue you," he muttered under his breath to her. "And that was just a little brawl..."
Rapunzel heard him, but did not acknowledge his balking beyond a stare and a sigh as she rolled her eyes.
"The spy stuff, though," he could not help a smirk, "That was pretty fun." He shook his head of the distracting reverie and returned to her his full solemn attention.
At regular volume again, she continued, confidently gazing into his eyes. "And for my part, I don't want you for 'just one more night.' I want you for the rest of them. And the days, too. I want you to stay. With me. From the day I take the throne, until our last, I need you by my side. Right here."
They had been through this more times than the gates of pleasure. He refused to demote her through a left-handed marriage to a commoner like him. He refused to run away with her, refused to let her leave her newfound family, refused to let her abandon her subjects. He insisted they take all precautions against producing a bastard heir. Yet, though he could not imagine her in another man's arms, he was at a loss for what he would do if it ever came to that – when it would come to that? ...or not? Dumbfounded, he watched her take the box and hold it out to him.
"Eugene Fitzherbert, will you marry me?"
His stomach sank and heart pounded, though his face remained stern. Not again... She had been asking and asking for years, the same question. It always ended poorly. But, the box was a surprise. And unless it was some kind of Matryoshka box, there was not just a ring in there.
She opened the hinged top, to show him what it held.
A crown – a... A man's crown... It was one he had never seen before. With a shock, his face lit up. His breathing skipped and gasped, as he began to finally grasp all that was happening, what was finally happening. She's acting reagent-! He could not keep his excited eyes from pouring over the details. He could tell the swirls and other geometric accents borrowed to complement her own. The gold, the jewels, the crystal centerpiece, there was nothing spared in it, no blemish in quality. He wondered if she had designed it herself. She had to have! The sparkles reflected in and dazzled his eyes, priming them for more tears.
Rapunzel smiled at his reaction to the piece, but blushed in nervousness. He had not said a thing yet. She rambled, desperate to ensure no misunderstanding. "It's for you." She shrank behind the box, holding it out just a little farther.
His humble brown eyes snapped back to her emerald ones. He winced. Something like this, too, had actually happened before. He reached his newly freed but feeble hands up to the edges of the box, and took it from her. 'I'm not scared anymore. You know what I mean?' 'I'm starting to.' Oh, Sweetheart, I know exactly what you mean now.
Her smile faltered; this was not quite what she had hoped his reaction to be. Then again, this was what he wanted, right? Her hand, a crown, a castle?
Eugene closed the lid, and ran a hand over the velvet royal Coronian crest. He sighed as he closed his eyes just a moment, then looked away. He set the box on the floor beside him, then looked back, to her finely manicured hands. He gently grasped them in his grimy rough ones, and slowly stood up with her. He took hold of her gaze, trying to softly reassure her with his. Half a boot step closed the space between them, as his hands pulled hers closer up to his chest. Both smiles grew as he leaned down, leaned in ever closer. Familiar fingertips brushed her hair over her ear, and again when it did not stay. And again he smirked as he gave up on it. Then with a gasp, she felt the hook, his hand behind her head, urging her into his hypnotic trance.
Her eyes fell mesmerized, locked with his, even as she witnessed them descend to her lips. Her heart never failed to skip a beat, in this moment of waiting trust. Even after he had promised to never leave her unkissed ever again, he still spirited those lips away with him each time he left the castle, left Corona, left her. He had always come back, but, her bated breath would always doubt endlessly until-
Their lips joined, and crashed together as he seized her. He bravely clasped her face to his, in full view of everyone, in the middle of the throne room. Possessively, apologetically, triumphantly, he always grabbed her so fiercely at first, always graciously honoring the first time she did so herself. This time had become no different. Same as ever, he needed her to know he had never, ever, actually wanted to leave. He knew it was she who always truly needed the reminder, that he would never Dream of 'leaving.'
His hand remained in her hair, but the other dropped hers to instead clutch across her back, to tangle her torso against his. Smooth chiffon and sheer lace caught on chapped leather and metal clasps. A shift in legs, and his dusty boot pinned her train. When at last she threw her arms around him, the chiffon cape wrapped around his shoulders with her. Noses brushed as they twisted, a dance of reuniting tongues for more than merely verbal lingual teasing.
They could not contain themselves for long. Lips pulled back into smiles, breaking their kiss over and over, til at last they gave. Eugene rested his forehead on hers as both of them broke into giggles. Rapunzel kept her head tilted up to him, idly. He watched her, and thumbed her cheek as he sealed his official acceptance.
"I never needed a crown; I just want you. And if there's nothing you'll lose by having me, then yes, Blondie." His cheeks bunched and pinched from grinning so hard. "Finally, yes."
She beamed brighter than the sun at hearing his definitive answer. "That title appointment is the first thing getting changed. Then your clothes," she giggled.
He smirked and popped a suggestive brow at her. "Sounds like both things only you can do."
She shook her head, smirking back, and pulled him in once more.
A/N: Ah, that's better.
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