AN: Beware – this chapter is chalk full of New Dream thoughts and feelings which are very angsty, and I kind of ripped my own heart right in half while writing it. So, enjoy that. If you're into the whole 'angsty thoughts' thing like I am, this is just the chapter for you. Today, we have two featured songs: champagne problems by Taylor Swift, and Golden by Harry Styles. Golden gives me such Eugene/New Dream vibes, specifically when considering the plot of the movie. I actually watched the movie this past week, for only the millionth time, so this chapter is very inspired.

I'm including two songs today, because we will be studying two sides of the same coin: Eugene's feelings vs. Rapunzel's feelings, in the wake of Eugene's plea for her to run away with him. The tension between our four main characters, is going to really start to build from here on out, threatening to boil over. All I'm going to say is… buckle up, people. The next 10-15 chapters will hopefully be a wild ride, and I'm so glad that you're here to enjoy it with me. Anyway, enough going on from me. Let's do this thing.

Chapter 16: Champagne Problems Pt. 2 – Did Those Years in a Tower Make You a Coward?

One for the money, two for the show

I never was ready, so I watch you go

Sometimes you just don't know the answer, 'til someone's on their knees and asks you /

I'm out of my head, and I know that you're scared

Because hearts get broken…

He'd never seen a person so beautiful before. Not one. Not any of the women that he's bedded before. Surely not Stalyan. This girl, she was different, she was… so full of light. The unbearably warm, 'make you feel undeniably fuzzy inside,' kind of light. The kind that he'd never felt before meeting her.

He'd been content to watch her, as her delicate fingers placed the little flowers from the palm of his hand (which were originally woven intricately throughout her golden hair), onto the water's glassy surface. She was waiting so patiently for this moment which she'd clearly anticipated for her entire life. She looked up, a quick motion, and that first lantern in the sky glimmered in the reflection of her green eyes. She rushed to the bow of the little boat in pure anticipation of the show that was to come, and he tried his best not to fall out, not to fall headfirst into the water at the sudden movement. He was also trying not to fall headfirst into her. But his efforts were becoming more and more lax by the moment, as he sat there watching her, wondering what her new dream was going to be, once this was all over.

But he didn't hold it against her, the anticipation which was visibly bursting from her broken seams now, yearning to be set free. Her unique brand of childlike excitement had rubbed off on him so easily, like he'd unknowingly been waiting for this moment his entire life, too. Like everything he'd ever done, had led him to this one moment – an invisible, golden string, tying him right to her. He'd honestly never cared much about 'the lantern thing they do for the princess.' Clearly, he once hadn't cared at all, if he'd been more than willing to steal that lost princess's crown, forever damaging the beacon of hope in which it stood for. But suddenly, with her… he's never seen anything so heart-stopping. He's never felt such pent-up anticipation in his own body, to see a bunch of once-seemingly silly lights in the sky.

And she was absolutely gorgeous, leaning out of the boat in all of her awestruck glory, as the hundreds upon hundreds of lanterns began to light the vast, never-ending sky, some of them skating just above the water's surface. And she was young, probably too young for him. And he would never deserve her, because he's just a big, bad man who steals things for a living, and makes people trust him when they definitely shouldn't. And he shouldn't take advantage, because she's never even met a man before him. But she's just so sweet, and excitable, and achingly beautiful.

And God, she was so easy to please, it was borderline depressing. She was so grateful just to be there, so grateful for the day that they'd spent together in the kingdom – her eighteenth birthday. She was so grateful that he'd been willing to guide her to this very moment, though it felt like she was somehow guiding him, more than anything. He'd wanted to make that day the best day ever for her, wanted to give her a day so special, that she would never be able to forget him – even long after he would inevitably bring her back to that tower. So, they'd danced, and they'd poured over the pages of every book they could find, and they'd eaten cupcakes in the shadows. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off of her, not since catching the adorable little jumps of excitement that she'd made from the moment they'd entered the kingdom, that excitement following her everywhere that she went. Especially not since those little girls had braided her hair so pretty like that.

And she was just so happy. So ecstatic to take it all in for the first time. He'd bought her a flag for her birthday – a flag, for crying out loud. She'd acted like she'd never seen anything so great in her entire life, tucking it away to forever be a treasured memento of their adventure together, intended to be kept long after they said goodbye. And now, with the lanterns floating all around her, surrounding her in this warm, golden light that she's fully capable of creating all on her own, he can't even remotely imagine finding the right words to say goodbye to her…

'Am I losing it?' He'd thought to himself. 'Am I completely losing my mind? I've never felt this way about a girl before, not so fast. Not ever. I don't trust anyone. So, why is it that I trust her so much? Why do I trust her enough to admit that I was an orphan, that I still kind of am, after only one day of knowing her? Why do I trust that she'll give me my satchel back when this night is over? I don't want this night to be over. Stalyan wasn't like this, not at all. She wasn't this… gentle with me. This girl in front of me now, she's a tough little thing, no doubt about that.'

Dare he say, she was pretty ballsy sometimes, if only because she didn't know any better, and he had a few bumps on his head from a frying pan to prove it.

'But she's also incredibly sweet – a stark difference from Stalyan. She didn't even call me by my real name, for crying out loud. Not even once, and I've known her for nearly ten years! To be fair, no one calls me Eugene, because in any other circumstance, I'd deck them if they did. But she does, and I actually kind of… like it, when it's coming from her mouth. Stalyan liked who I was as Flynn Rider. But this girl… she prefers me with my walls down, my defenses shattered in her little, unknowing hands. She'd admitted so herself.'

Her words echo in his mind, the words she'd spoken as he stood there before her in the firelight: "For the record, I like Eugene Fitzherbert much better than Flynn Rider."

'And like Stalyan, I kind of thought that I preferred myself as Flynn Rider, too. Now, I'm not so sure.'

He'd gotten two lanterns, one for each of them to lift into the sky, because he'd thought that she would probably like that. But when he'd offered them, she hadn't taken her lantern right away.

"I have something for you, too." She'd said with a cute, little laugh. "I should've given it to you before, but I was just scared. And the thing is… I'm not scared anymore." She'd looked to him intently, as if she were praying that he'd understand. "You know what I mean?"

And, surprising himself completely, he'd pushed the satchel away – pushed the crown away – the crown that would have made him rich beyond belief.

"I'm starting to."

That's what he'd said to her, what he'd dared to share aloud. But really, he'd thought: 'I don't want it. I don't want it anymore, it doesn't matter. The enormous piles of money, the island, the crown – none of it matters. You matter, only you matter right now, in this enchanting, special moment. And right now, I don't care about anything that isn't you. Because my head is so cloudy, and my heart feels ten sizes too big for my chest. And after Stalyan, I promised myself that I wouldn't fall for someone again, that I would never bear my heart to another woman. I would sleep around, and that would be good enough. But I don't want that anymore. And it's all your fault that I'm breaking this promise to myself, but I don't even have the common sense right now to care.'

And they'd sent their lanterns into the sky, and he'd taken her by the hand, because he couldn't think of a good enough reason not to.

'I'm going to kiss her,' He'd decided, his train of thought unable to move on from that one very simple, very easy thing – something he'd done a thousand times, with too many different girls to remember all the names of. And he'd found himself actually feeling nervous to kiss her. Flynn Rider didn't get nervous.

'I probably shouldn't. But I want to kiss her, I want her. I need to know what she feels like. I need to know everything about her, I need to know the softness of her skin. And no, not like that. I don't want her like that. For the first time, with this strange, beautiful young woman, that's not what I want from her. I just want her for who she is. Not for what she can offer, not for what her body can do for me. I don't want her to trust me enough that I can get what I want from her, get her into bed, and disappear tomorrow morning. I just want her to trust me, for the sheer sake of it, and I don't want to bring her back home. I want to be with her for longer than just tonight. Because right now, it feels impossible not to want that.'

So, he'd tucked her hair behind her ear, because he didn't want her for her hair, as she'd once mused in the moment they'd first met. He really didn't care about it. Sure, it was nice that he didn't have a gash in his palm anymore, but that really didn't matter right now. For the first time in a long time, he didn't care about something that could, in theory, make him a lot of money. He just wanted to see her – he wanted to see that wonderstruck look in her big, green eyes, on her sweet face.

And then, looking at her with his hand at her neck, pulling her closer, he'd realized something, asked himself a question that he never thought he would: 'What the hell am I doing with my life? I can only faintly remember the last five years or so, aside from a few of the really big jobs that I've done. It's as though I've been living in a selfish blur, trying, in vain, to reach for a level of satisfaction that can't be fulfilled. And what have I done, really? Who have I been? She, this mesmerizing girl, probably wouldn't like the person that I've been very much, if she knew of all the horrible things that I've done. But I did those things for a reason: to survive! And why do I care, anyway? Why do I care what she thinks of me? I don't care what anyone thinks of me, and I barely even know her. But with her, like this, staring at me so intently, waiting for me to kiss her, I just… do. I care, I care so much –'

In hindsight, Eugene realizes, he should've just asked her right then, 'Run away with me. I'll leave this life behind me, this unfulfilling life of thievery, and lies, and manipulation. We'll start over. I'll leave it all, for you. Say the word, and I'll… I'll change. It doesn't matter that I barely know you, and that you barely know me – it only matters what we feel right now, in this moment. Come away with me, and we'll figure this out together. Your clearly crazy, obsessively protective mother, my abandonment issues – my issue of wanting to be wanted. My inability to trust, to fully let someone in. You'll fix that. You'll want me, and I'll want you. None of the rest will matter. I'll have you, and you'll have me, and nothing else will matter.'

He should've asked her, right there on the boat. He never should have gotten off said boat, never should have followed the Stabbington's when they'd shone that lantern on the shore. They'd lured him right back into the darkness again, without him even realizing it, when he'd spent two days basking in her light. He never should have separated himself from her. He never should have left her sitting in the boat on the water's edge, with that worried look in her eye, yet so trusting and vulnerable. He never should have looked up, never should have taken his eyes from her face. He should have kissed her, and he should have gone away with her right then and there, and he should have never looked back. She'd trusted him to be her guide, and he'd guided her right into the arms of the people that would hurt her the most, and would do so without so much as a single guilty thought.

He'd intended to get right back to her, right after giving the crown back to the Stabbington's, had intended to be back in that boat with her in no more than twenty minutes. He'd intended to get back into that boat, and kiss her, and stay with her for however long she wanted him to.

He really had.

But then, because he was a stupid, selfish son of a bitch, and because he deserved the karma that was coming to him, he'd been knocked out, and thrown into prison. He'd been denied as much as a trial. He'd been dragged to the gallows, knowing there was something seriously wrong going on. He'd had to accept his fate, knowing that she wasn't safe anymore, even though the Stabbington's were here in prison right along with him, facing their own fate – the fate of filling the void in your heart with things that don't belong to you. He'd had to face the fact that she was in danger, and that, in a way, it was all his fault. Because he couldn't just take her to the damn lanterns, like she'd so badly wanted. He couldn't just stick to their deal. No, he'd had to fall in love with her. He'd had to drag her into his mess. And soon, his neck was going to be hanging from a rope, and he would have no soul in his body left to save her, even if he wanted to. All he would leave her with, is a few good memories, and the aftermath of his own selfish choices. He would leave this earth with her thinking that he'd sold her out, and that thought alone was enough to make his stomach curl in on itself.

And for what? All of this, for some stupid crown? Only to end up here, anticipating the slow drain of his own, lifeless body, when she was clearly in trouble? He'd tried so hard to fill that void in his heart before her. Why? Because he was broken. Because he was taking bigger risk upon bigger risk, because he didn't feel anything anymore. Because he'd had essentially nothing else to live for. Until now. Now… now he had her to live for, and he couldn't even do that. Because he had committed an act of such treason, that he deserved what was coming to him. He deserved that inevitable rope around his neck.

But where would they be now, if he'd asked her to run away with him on that boat, if he'd never chased after the Stabbington's, if he'd never made the grand mistake of leaving her alone on that shore? The kingdom still wouldn't have their lost princess, and with the loss of her crown, there would be no hope left to grasp onto. And the king and queen would still be utterly depressed over the loss of their precious daughter – far too depressed to care if their power was taken from them by a greedy council head over the course of nearly two decades.

And everything in Corona would've imminently fallen to shit. And it would be partly his fault.

But it wouldn't matter, because he would be with her. They would be together, deep in the countryside, perhaps, hidden away in a little cottage. Or maybe, they would even settle down in the next kingdom over, a completely fresh start for the both of them. And they would grow together, and learn from each other, and make love whenever they wanted – not having to do it in secret, or having to worry about how loud they were being. She would teach him about the stars, and beat him at every game of chess, and he would teach her how to pick any kind of lock that you could ever want. They would make breakfast together, and she would paint to her heart's content. And they would have a garden, where she would grow all kinds of pretty flowers, flowers that she would braid into her hair, just like her hair had been braided with flowers on the night that they'd watched the lanterns. And, when they were ready, maybe they'd even have children. And they would laugh together, and they would cry, and they would dance in the rain, and they would watch the sun sink into the horizon together each night. And each night, she would note how every sunset is always different than the last, and he would kiss her goodnight, pulling her close. And they would be together, and he would love her more than he's ever loved anything.

And they would be happy there. Because he still would've changed for her. He still would've abandoned his life as Flynn Rider, and she never would've had to meet Charles. She never would've been forced into a marriage that she didn't want, and he wouldn't have to be so damn angry.

That's an alternate universe in which Eugene will never see, even though a very selfish part of him wishes that he could, even for a little while – if only to humor himself and his guilty imagination. It's completely humorous that he's even mentally entertaining this alternate life for him and Rapunzel, because really, he should be dead. He shouldn't even have so much as a beating heart.

He should literally be dead right now. His bones should be rotting, lying there motionless on the floor of that tower, shards of glass splayed out around him. But now, thanks to Rapunzel and her magical tears, he's living pretty in a palace, with a very faint scar in his side, the size of a long, sharp blade. And he doesn't even deserve it. And he's still completely, pathetically in awe of that slightly strange, utterly beautiful girl – the girl who had been so in awe of those lanterns. The girl who, quite literally, saved him. Despite this, over a year later (and in what feels like a whole other lifetime completely), Eugene sometimes still feels like he's walking to the gallows, anticipating that rope around his neck – anticipating the freefall before his life, and the few things that he's ever really cared about, are ripped from his grasp just as quick as it would take for his neck to snap.

Despite the significant amount of time which has passed since he first met Rapunzel, he still has a few demons of his own to fight, and Eugene isn't entirely sure if his current strength is enough to defeat them. Mostly because the last four months were hand-delivered by the devil himself, those demons of his hell-bent on going straight for her. And Eugene feels completely incapable of stopping their reign of terror – not to mention, incredibly desperate to take her away from it all.

And she'd said no.

'No, I can't run away with you.'

Not, 'I don't want to run away with you.' But, 'I can't. I can never do that, because I have a duty here. A duty, not only to my parents, but more importantly, a lifelong commitment to this entire kingdom.'

He'd told her so himself. She was only pulling a page straight from his playbook, saying what she thought everyone would want to hear. If they were in a less painful situation, he would actually be proud of her for being so responsible, so mature. So queen-minded. After all, she would be queen someday, and a damn good one, at that. But he'd dug his own grave with this one, and Eugene knows it. And maybe, that's what's pissing him off most of all – that he's really only angry with himself.

Eugene isn't quite sure which is worse: a straight up 'No,' or the brutal truth. The truth that she's too afraid to speak out loud, even to him: 'I'm trapped all over again, just like I was in my tower, where I had to watch you die. The tower which still gives me nightmares, and leaves me shaking and mumbling desperate pleas in my sleep. I'm completely trapped again, and this time, there's nothing you can do to save me. Have fun drowning in your own helplessness!'

So, he'd sent her off, away from the garden, to return to the party like nothing had ever happened. Though she'd protested, wanting to stay with him, wanting to talk about what he'd just blurted, Eugene had simply smoothed her dress, and sent her on her way. He'd suggest that they leave the garden separately, so that none of the nosy guests lingering about could catch so much as a growing suspicion that they had been together in the maze. Rapunzel had left, albeit reluctantly, with a chaste kiss goodbye, a simple 'I'm sorry,' and a depressed look in her eye that had let Eugene know that she means it. She's sorry, for their situation. And so is he, deeply sorry, for asking something so silly of her – for making a request that she could never fulfill, even if she wanted to.

Eugene stands there for a while, in the middle of the maze, lost in the warmth that Rapunzel had left behind, which is fading, and fast. He sucks the chilly, night air into his lungs, trying hard to will away the dizziness that often clouds his head when he's around Rapunzel. The air is as bitter as he feels. He looks up to the night sky, and tries to count the stars for a while, tries to calm himself down. When he gets to two hundred, he stops, realizing that his nerves aren't calming in the slightest. If he could, Eugene would deck himself for the look on her face, the look of utter sadness when she'd realized that she would have to decline his request – that running off together could never be a realistic option for the princess of Corona.

No one in the kingdom would really miss him, if he were to leave. But they would miss her.

He'd said it only in a moment of passion, had asked her to run away with him, only because he couldn't stand watching her with Charles anymore. The prince's empty, or potentially not-so-empty (Eugene isn't sure yet), threats had shaken him to the core. Charles's words had shaken him so much so, that Eugene had felt the need to ask her something so stupid, because it was just too much to bear. It was all too much. Watching her with Charles, was too much. Imagining Charles's hands anywhere else on her body, anywhere other than her hip, was too much. Imagining her moaning the prince's name, panting in the ragged breaths that he so often drew from her, was too much. Imagining her someday having to have children with Charles… Eugene doesn't even dare to take that mental path tonight, even though he knows it's completely inevitable. The people would expect successors soon. And maybe, so would Charles.

Eugene had thought about asking her that very question a million times before, a million times since she'd been forced to marry the prince. 'Run away with me,' he'd wanted to beg, over and over again. Almost as many times as he'd wanted to blurt, 'Marry me.' Though, in their first year together, he'd always thought that she wasn't ready for that quite yet, and he wasn't about to be the one to take her freedom too soon – the freedom that she'd only just if he had to, Eugene would literally get on his knees and beg her. He's thought about it enough times to know that he wouldn't be too proud of a man to do so, if push comes to shove. If running away would be the one thing that would protect her most. But most nights, Eugene has the common sense (and the guilty conscience) to know that asking such a thing of her, would only make her feel worse than they both already feel. And the last thing that he ever wants, is to add to her pain. Or, to selfishly force the king and queen to suffer again, for that matter.

She'd asked him that very question, not all that long ago. 'Do you ever think about running away?' That night, Rapunzel had gone as far as to admit that, sometimes, she hates being the princess. Eugene, caught up in his own self-centered feelings about Rapunzel's marriage, hadn't read too far into that statement. She was just stressed about the forced marriage, still adjusting to court life, he'd assumed. Now, standing alone in the maze, feeling like nothing more than a pitiful idiot, Eugene can't help but wonder if there's more to her vulnerable words than he'd originally thought.

'What if she truly hates being here? What if she's so miserable, that she'll never be happy again? What if she feels like no one cares? I've always thought that she was meant to be the princess, that this was her destiny. It's always been as though she were made to help people, to show compassion to her kingdom, to spread the light inside of her. These things have always come so naturally for her. But what if she really hates it? What if her admitting such a thing wasn't just a moment of passion, a moment of frustration? What if all of this is slowly killing her, and I'm just standing by, wallowing in my own feelings like the selfish asshole that I've always been?'

Eugene doesn't want that for her. He loves her. He wants his princess to be as happy as humanly possible – at least, as happy as a young woman can possibly be while stuck in a marriage that she didn't ask for, or even remotely agree to – a marriage which haunts her like a ghost, so closely replicating that trapped feeling that she'd felt for, oh, only eighteen years.

And what has Eugene done to save her from that replica of entrapment? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's just stood by and watched, as another man married the love of his life, watched another man wrap his hand around her hips, and claim her as his own to the public. And what does Eugene do? He makes love to her in secret, and steals her away for ten, stupid minutes alone in the garden, just to ask her such a stupid question. Because he's selfish as hell, and isn't strong enough to stay away from her, even if not staying away from her means that she could get into big trouble, if they were ever caught.

Because that is what their once so beautiful, so tightknit, so stable relationship has been diminished to in four, measly, miserable months: ten minutes of stolen kisses, and 'I love you's,' and a yearning in Eugene's gut that's so deep, that he just knows it will never truly be fulfilled. There's this painful longing inside of him which will never be contented, because he'll never get to make her his wife as he'd always dreamed of. She was literally his new dream! Before Charles showed up, they had been setting sail on the S.S. Happily Ever After, full speed ahead. And that amazing year they'd spent together had been taken away in the blink of an eye, in the form of a nightmare, catching Eugene in his own hellish reality.

This deep yearning in the depths of Eugene's stomach, in the depths of his heart, will never, ever be satisfied, no matter what he does with the rest of his life. Mostly because he'll never get to watch her walk down the aisle to him. He'll never get to take her wedding dress off and make love to her, like only a husband can to his wife. He'll never get to hear the words, 'I do,' or, 'I'm pregnant!' or, 'Hi, I'm Princess Rapunzel Fitzherbert' falling from her lips, in that sweet voice of 'll never get to hear any of that. And fuck, is it killing him inside, more painful than the stab wound that he'd once survived.

'Did I even deserve to survive that stab wound? Aren't I just making her life harder by being here?'

Don't even mention the very realistic notion that she will have to let go of him someday. Scratch that – don't even mention the fact that she's going to have to do all of those things with Charles – like, inevitably, make love to him, and let the prince get her pregnant. Because 'the crown needs successors for the kingdom to suffice', and all of that royal bullshit. Don't even mention the fact that they can't do this forever, that they won't do this forever, that he cannot have her forever. That someday, somehow, they are going to get caught, and Eugene is going to have to leave her, no matter how much it kills him to do so – no matter how much it kills him to even think about that impending day. Just like Charles had said to him earlier in the night, so hauntingly: someday, he's going to have to man up, and let her go.

'But how do you let go of the love of your life, without completely destroying yourself in the process?'

But what was he supposed to do, really? To save her, to save himself? Eugene had already been skating on incredibly thin ice with the council for the entirety of the twelve months that he'd been living in the palace, pre-Charles. It were as though they were waiting for him to misstep. Despite usually being on his best behavior, the council didn't trust Eugene, didn't trust his motives with the princess. Really, could he blame them? He'd literally committed high treason against his kingdom for his own selfish gain. And despite the king and queen's quick brand of forgiveness, what with their biased perspective, heavily watered down by the gratitude of simply having their daughter back, there were some people who couldn't. People who couldn't truly forgive him for what he'd done.

Even Stalyan can't believe that he's really changed. She truly believes that Eugene must be here for any reason other than the fact that he's head-over-heels in love with Rapunzel. That he must be plotting some grand scheme. That might have more to do with Stalyan's personal denial than anything, but it still forces Eugene's ego to take a reasonably hard hit.

And yeah, Flynn Rider, without a shadow of a doubt, would have done that. If it were an option, in some alternate universe, he definitely would have coerced the princess into trusting him, gotten her into his bed, just to steal something incredibly valuable from her and subsequently disappear without a trace.

If that princess wasn't Rapunzel.

But Eugene is not that man anymore, not by a long shot. He's no longer the same man who would commit such a crime, and not even think to double check his moral compass. He's no longer the same man who would steal the lost princess's crown for a pretty cut of the check, despite all that crown had stood for – he'd stolen the hope that it had given to the king and queen, and to the kingdom. The hope that someday, their lost princess would return. And, at the time, he hadn't even felt bad about it. No, Eugene isn't that self-absorbed man anymore, only looking out for his own desires. Now, he's the man who would protect that lost princess with his dying breath, the man who would seek out the head of any other man who would dare to touch her in the wrong way.

But the council doesn't know that. The council doesn't know that Eugene would never willingly do anything to jeopardize a future with her – a chance to make her his wife, and the mother of his future children, and the most adored woman in the world. So, they'd forced the poor girl to marry a prince from far away, a man that she didn't even know. A prince who doesn't know her like the back of his hand like Eugene does, a prince who will never love her like he does – a prince who will never be everything that she needs.

It kills Eugene to know that. To know that, when he inevitably is forced to leave someday, she will probably always have that same, endless yearning inside of her that only he can fulfill, but will never have the chance to. It kills him to know that she might spend the rest of her life unhappy. It kills Eugene even more to know that, someday, Rapunzel very well might find a way to be happy with Charles. Because really, her two options are that, or eternal misery. Its either force herself to fake happiness with Charles, and pray that it eventually becomes real, or have to find ways to sneak into Eugene's bed nearly every night without her husband noticing – and they surely can't keep that up for the rest of their lives.

Eugene doesn't want that life for her. He doesn't want her to be miserable – if he could, he would bear all of her misery onto himself. He doesn't want her to have to grovel for a life with him, a life that must always remain well-hidden. Someone as special as Rapunzel deserves far better than that. But he definitely doesn't want her to be happy with Charles, as selfish as it is. He wants to be the man who makes her happy. And yet, when Rapunzel had suggested it those weeks ago, Eugene had gently rejected her idea of running away. He'd momentarily convinced her that here, in the kingdom, with her parents, acting as the princess, is where Rapunzel is meant to be.

And he'd meant it, then. Eugene had admitted that, yes, running away with her is something that has crossed his mind before, but that it's something they could never, ever do. It was more of a pipedream, than anything else, the way he'd put it to her that night. He'd promised Rapunzel that they would 'Figure it out,' that he would 'Do whatever he has to do' to be with her. Even if 'being with her' is only in secret, for however long they can realistically manage to keep that explosive, ticking time bomb of a secret hidden.

'What the hell is there to figure out? She's married to another man, and at some point, something's got to give. Someone is going to see us fooling around, or hear her moaning my name a little too loudly, or notice the flush of her cheeks after she's disappeared for an hour. Someone is going to see us talking earnestly outside my bedroom, or in the garden, just like we were no more than twenty minutes ago. Just like we were, before I sent her back inside, looking like a wounded puppy. And it's all my fault that she feels that way! Because I'd been selfish enough to ask something of her that she has no choice but to say no to – something that she yearns for, just as much as I do, but can't have. The guilt was written all over her face. Why am I such an asshole? I seriously don't deserve her now, if I ever did before!'

Now, Eugene is standing here alone, in the maze, kicking himself profusely for making her feel bad, for sending her back inside on such a tense, awkward note, and selfishly wishing that the only place Rapunzel was 'meant' to be, is with him. Eugene is starting to feel a little pitiful, a little fuzzy around the edges from the drinks he'd downed when the party had first started, and a little like he needs his ego stroked.

A lot like he needs his ego stroked.

And Flynn Rider would've given in to that feeling without so much as a second thought, would've gone off and found some random girl to stroke his ego (and to stroke some other highly-adept parts of him). After all, there's probably dozens of girls inside the palace at this very moment, hungry and willing to please a man like him. But Eugene doesn't want that. He doesn't want to be anywhere else, with anyone else.

He just wants her. Every piece of her, every piece that's been fractured by the last four months – every single one of her broken pieces, which filters the warm light that's still inside of her. He wants all of it: that short, choppy hair of hers, the hair that he'd given her, and her laugh, and her strange resemblance to pure sunshine. He wants to get down on one knee, and devote himself to her and to her happiness. He wants a little girl that runs around and looks just like her, and calls him 'Daddy.' Eugene had never wanted to be a parent before he met her. Actually, he'd once deliberately sworn to himself, what with his orphaned childhood, that he would never have children, if he could help it. So, why does he suddenly want to be a father so overwhelmingly?

Because it's her that would make him one.

Rapunzel is all that he's ever wanted, since that night when they'd watched the lanterns light the night sky together. And Eugene is starting to get really fed up with the universe and it's sick, karmic sense of humor, because he honestly doesn't feel like that's too much to ask. He knows that he's done a lot of shitty things to deserve a shitty life, like leaving a girl at the altar, committing treason against his own kingdom, and being generally selfish and untrustworthy. But Eugene changed – he changed for her. And he'd like to believe, just like anyone else, that he deserves a chance at the whole 'happily ever after thing.' He was given a second chance, and he's finally found the one person who truly loves him for who he is, the one person who would never abandon him.

And the universe just takes it away? It feels to Eugene like he's getting yanked around like a ragdoll mercilessly, like that perfect year together had just been some sick joke made by the universe, as if to say, 'Ha! You really thought that someone like you would be able to hold onto someone like her?'

All Eugene really wants is to look at her and be able to say, 'That's my wife.' He wants to grow old with her, watch her age with pure grace, like he already knows she will. He wants to sleep beside her every night, and not have to wake her before the sun comes up. Just so she can sneak back to her own bedroom, where her husband sleeps, in the bed that she's expected to share with the prince – in the bed that she will someday be expected to give all of herself to him in. Eugene wants to feel her limbs wrapped snuggly around him, to feel her mouth upon his own, kissing away every last pang of pathetic longing, and yearning, and desire. He needs her to love him so hard, that every sharp feeling of pure hurt that's shooting through his heart right now, simply disappears, if only for tonight.

Is that really so much to ask for?

But that can't happen. At least, not right now. His ego will have to wait. Because she has a party to attend, guests that are waiting for her, and a kingdom that will always need her.

Just not as much as he needs her.

Rapunzel doesn't return to the party right away after returning inside from the garden. She knows that she probably should, knows that Charles very well might come looking for her. She's been gone much longer than it typically takes to simply run to the powder room.

But she can't. She can't go back, not yet. She needs a moment alone, a moment to herself to think, to recuperate. A moment to get her head right after Eugene's surprising statement. A moment to figure out how she's possibly going to go back into that ballroom, look Charles in the eye, and pretend that Eugene hadn't just said to her:

'Run away with me.'

Because, God, does she want to. She's never wanted anything so much in nineteen years. Rapunzel wants this even more than she'd wanted to leave her tower or see the lanterns. This want, this deep, unshakable desire to be with Eugene, and Eugene alone, runs far deeper than all of that ever had. And the whole lantern thing had run incredibly deep within her. Eighteen years deep.

Will she have to want what she can't have for the next eighteen years?

The heavy-hearted princess wanders through the empty hallways, lost in a random wing of the castle, far from the grand ballroom – a wing that she doesn't visit very often. Right now, she wants nothing more than a few moments of quiet, a few moments to wallow and to be angry – something that she doesn't allow herself to do as often as she probably should for her own mental wellbeing. Instead, Rapunzel is notorious for shoving everything down, in a bout of learned passive aggression, so far down her own throat that she can't even breathe. She so often does this, instead of allowing herself to momentarily wallow in this frustrating situation, as most healthy, normal people would do from time to time. Instead, she pretends. She plasters a smile on her face, plays the role that everyone needs her to play, and acts like her life isn't completely falling apart at the seams.

Rapunzel had wanted to stay with Eugene, there in the peaceful garden in the radiant moonlight, so reminiscent of the Christmas Eve night they'd spent together last year. She would've stayed there with him forever, if he'd given her the option. But Eugene had gently pushed her in the right direction with a quick kiss, telling her that she should get back inside before Charles comes searching for her, telling her that her guests probably miss her already.

But Rapunzel doesn't care, not right now. She can't care. Not about Charles, not about her guests. Not about anything. If she's in the ballroom, with the loud violins playing, and the many, resounding voices speaking in methods of pointless small talk around her, she won't be able to think. She can't think about any of that, can't think about her responsibility as a princess. Not after Eugene's passionate request. Not when the only thing that she cares about right now is him, and his desires, and his mutually unconditional love for her.

Not when the only thing she can think about, is how she would rather die than go on without him.

And what had she done? She'd shot him down. She'd said no. Mostly because that's what Rapunzel was supposed to say – what her parents would expect of her, what her kingdom would expect of her. Her parents couldn't bear to lose her, Rapunzel knows that. It would be so, utterly cruel to make them live without her again, after finally getting her back. It would be cruel to run off and not consider the brokenness that would surely ensue in her parent's hearts. She knows that she can't put the king and queen through that pain of losing a child all over again, that crippling worry and gut-wrenching depression. She can't willingly, selfishly, put her kingdom through another era of despair, tarnishing all sense of hope and prosperity to the wind. But isn't it just as cruel to expect her to live without Eugene?

She can't become the lost princess… again. No matter how badly she wants to, sometimes.

Rapunzel feels a distinct ache in her stomach as she wanders through the dead halls. Everyone but her, clearly, is at the party, cashing in on the banquet of expensive food and free alcohol. This feeling which washes over the princess now, is a feeling of wretched guilt, sorrow, bitterness, and anxiety, all wrapped up together in a tight knot in the pit of her belly. She feels like a coward, like a shell of the brave woman she'd once been, when she'd first escaped her tower. It were as though, at some point in the last four months, her courageous spirit had simply stood up and walked away. Now, all Rapunzel feels is a sudden, aching need to be comforted, to be sheltered by his body – a deep urge to feel his skin against hers, to feel her legs shake around him, to hear him whisper 'I love you' in her ear, over and over again.

A deep urge to have the pain nursed away, in the special way that only Eugene could comfort her. A deep urge to be reassured: 'I still love you, even though you can't give me what I need from you right now. Even though you can't leave with me.'

Why did he have to ask her that, to run away with him? He had to know that she would have to say no. He had to know that, didn't he? Asking this of her had been like some cruel, sick joke – one that Rapunzel knows Eugene hadn't meant to be cruel – though, it still feels like it is. Doesn't he know that she wants nothing more than to be with him? Doesn't he know that she would run away with him in a heartbeat if she could, that she would leave this life behind – the expensive clothes, the balls, the adoring subjects, the crown – for him? But she can't do that, she can't just walk away. She can't, because she's the princess. And to run away, to leave her people in despair, would make her the least trustworthy, most selfish princess of all time. And to be selfish just isn't in Rapunzel's nature.

And she hates it! Oh, does she hate it. Right now, Rapunzel hates being the princess, with a detestment that is deep and true. She hates that she cares so much about her parents, so much about her kingdom. If she simply didn't care so much, she wouldn't be too afraid to run away with Eugene. But it's engrained in her to care for others – it's not something in which she can wake up one day, and easily decide not to do anymore. And Rapunzel hates herself for that; she hates herself for her deep-set willingness to place everyone's needs before her own. She's a people-pleaser. She has been since being in the tower with Gothel – because of being in the tower with Gothel. Now, the young princess isn't quite sure how to stop seeking validation from just about everyone, and it feels like she can't please anyone anymore. Especially not Eugene. Rapunzel hates herself for that most of all.

Even more so, she hates being married. Rapunzel hates everything that comes with it: Charles, and his stiff movements, and his hard gazes which appear to see right through you. She hates that she has to attend every party with Charles on her arm, being introduced as his wife, when she wasn't supposed to be anyone's wife someday other than Eugene's. Rapunzel hates that she's stalking around the castle alone, when she could be with him. She could be alone with Eugene. But instead, Rapunzel is half-heartedly avoiding some stupid party that her husband had surprisingly thrown for her – a party that she didn't want, thrown by a husband that she didn't want.

And the kicker of it all is, she had asked Eugene that very same question before, not all that long ago! She had asked Eugene if he'd ever thought about running away with her. And he'd admitted that, yes, he had thought about it, but that they never could. Because she's the princess, and she has a responsibility to her kingdom, and that her parents need her to be right here, with them, forever. He'd convinced her that her responsibility was here, that her destiny was here.

But what if Rapunzel's destiny isn't set anywhere in particular? What if her fate is simply placed wherever Eugene is?

And the worst part is, she'd believed him! Rapunzel had accepted that Eugene was right, that his judgement was always best, that he was much older. Six years older, six years wiser. Which means that he's far more experienced in relationships, and probably knows how to handle this situation better than she could alone. She'd trusted his judgement that seeing out her marriage with Charles was the right thing to do, the morally correct thing to do, and that it was what her kingdom expected of her for its own economic prosperity. She and Eugene had convinced one another that, if they have to sneak around forever, then so be it. And that was all fine and dandy. Stressful, with the constant fear of getting caught, but fine and dandy, nonetheless, because they still had each other. Sneaking around is the far better alternative to losing one another suddenly and permanently – neither one of them could bear that.

But now he wants to ask her to run away? When Eugene knows that she would have to say no? After they'd just gotten back on track, after that explosive argument they'd had about Stalyan barely two weeks ago? After Eugene had convinced the princess that this is where she's meant to be, right here in the kingdom, he wants to ask her to run off with him?

'Well, maybe I don't want to be right here! Maybe I'm not really cut out to be a princess! Maybe I'm sick and tired of the balls, and the hundreds of guests that I will never be able to remember all the names of. Maybe I'm sick of the big dresses, and the corsets that are way too tight, and the crown resting heavily on my head like a weight, like a guilty conscience. Maybe I'm tired of looking at that crown, and all that it stands for, all that it symbolizes in my journey of getting to this moment – all that it symbolizes for Eugene and I's relationship, back when we were actually together and happy.

Maybe I'm tired of the noblemen who look me up and down, like I'm a prize to be won! Maybe I'm sick of Charles, and sick of being his wife. I don't even know how to be a wife. I'm only nineteen, and I spent my entire life in a tower! No one prepared me for this! And I would've loved to learn how to be a wife someday, with Eugene. But that will never happen, not now! I don't even want to try to learn anymore, not with Charles. I didn't ask for this, for any of this!

When is it going to be my turn to be happy? When is it going to be my turn to stop feeling so used, so utterly trapped? That's all I've ever felt, is trapped, in my own life! I was a pawn for Gothel to play with, and now I'm a pawn for my own kingdom, a bargaining chip to be used to secure ally-ships with other kingdoms! So, when is it going to be my turn to choose my own fate? I thought that my life was finally beginning. A perfect life with Eugene. But that life, that new dream, everything – it was all just ripped away, and no one even asked what I wanted. And now, Eugene, without warning, wants to ask me to –'

"Why the long face, Princess?"

Rapunzel looks up suddenly, realizing that she's been walking the empty hall with her eyes on her bare feet, angrily staring down at them, disoriented by her own raging thoughts.

So, this is the one other soul in the castle who isn't at the party. And maybe Eugene, if he's not still standing sadly in the gardens where Rapunzel had left him, when she'd had to mercilessly shoot down his new dream.

The princess sighs heavily, rubbing a tired hand across her face, preparing herself for an imminent tongue-lashing and an attack on her ego from Stalyan – both of which Rapunzel is definitely not in the mood for tonight. Well, even less than usual.

"None of your business." Rapunzel grumbles, turning away from Stalyan. The Baron's daughter will inevitably bring up Eugene – Flynn – and hearing his old moniker greedily falling from Stalyan's mouth, just isn't something that Rapunzel can handle right now.

But Stalyan only hurries down the hallway to catch up to the princess, in a foul mood herself, still not over the last conversation that she'd had with Flynn – not over the way that he'd so harshly spoken to her, the way that he'd professed his 'undying love' for the princess. Jealousy has reared its ugly head, and Stalyan is just so lucky to have run into the princess, when she was in such a pitiful mood herself.

Stalyan steps in front of Rapunzel, blocking her from moving down the hallway any further.

"Trouble in paradise?" Stalyan asks sweetly, that ever-present, mischievous look in her eye.

"You would know what that looks like, wouldn't you?" Rapunzel mumbles under her breath, trying her best to sidestep the Baron's daughter, but doing so unsuccessfully.

Typically, Rapunzel wouldn't speak so bluntly. Typically, she tries her very best to be kind to everyone that she meets, even the people that she doesn't like very much. This includes Stalyan, if only because Rapunzel knows exactly what it feels like to have someone not be very kind to you. The princess has experienced a lot of that in her young life, enough to realize the long-lasting effects of emotional and verbal abuse. Despite this, Rapunzel has fallen headfirst into a completely sour mood, and she just doesn't have the energy to hide it right now. Especially not from a provoking Stalyan.

Stalyan only laughs, that coy expression which so often graces her face crossing it now, though her violet eyes appear to darken considerably.

"You know, Princess, you look like a little, lost puppy. Like someone stomped on your tail." Stalyan smirks, crossing her arms over her chest in a manner of obvious pride. "You kind of look like you just got rejected for the first time."

'No, I had to reject him. Not that I wanted to! I really didn't want to. If I could, I would find him right now, and I would run away with him tonight –'

For the first time, Rapunzel, wrapped tightly in her own anxious thoughts, feels no need to worry about the consequences of her words in this tension-filled moment, on this tension-filled night.

"No, Stalyan, I didn't get rejected. Because unlike you, Eugene actually wants me."

Stalyan doesn't say anything right away. She simply drops her eyes up and down the princess's body, a very small smile tugging at her lips. Stalyan reaches out to smooth down a sleeve on Rapunzel's dress, if only to knowingly fuel the fire of that one, bravely suggestive comment.

"You know, I'd love to remember what he tastes like." There's that sly flicker in her eye again, that slight shift in her tone which drips of sex appeal, as Stalyan leans unbearably close. "Not that you ever really forget a man who fucks you like he does. You would know, wouldn't you, Princess?"

Rapunzel shoves her hand away, fuming at Stalyan's incredibly intimate comment. Well, the princess should've seen that coming, she reasons with herself. The two young women are provoking one another shamelessly, clearly catching the other in a particularly sensitive moment. Rapunzel's words are icy and cold as they leave her lips, colder than she'd ever thought her own voice to be capable of. The princess is desperate to match Stalyan's easy bravado, her tone of voice as bitter as she feels.

"You will never touch him again. Ever."

"See, that's what you think. But maybe… maybe he wants to be touched. Did you ever think of that?" Stalyan circles Rapunzel as she speaks, as though tormenting her prey, before ripping it into a million pieces. "Maybe that innocent, inexperienced little mouth of yours… just doesn't do it for him."

'She's just trying to get in your head, she's just trying to get in your head. I seriously don't have time for this, let alone the patience for this tonight. Eugene just asked me to run away with him, and I had to say no. I had to say no, because I am the princess! The last thing that I need right now, is Stalyan egging me on, making me wonder if Eugene would still want her, given the chance!'

"No, Stalyan, that's what I know. He's not going to let you get close to him. Don't forget, that you are in my home, in my kingdom." The princess takes a sure step forward, pausing Stalyan from her tactical circling. Rapunzel measures her courage, realizing that she has just enough for what she's about to say. "And that… he was never in love with you."

The words leave Rapunzel's mouth, and she immediately regrets them, watching as Stalyan's chest momentarily deflates. But she bounces back quickly, squaring her shoulders, though Stalyan's expression has gone positively sour, not even bothering to mask her rage behind a sly smile anymore.

'I can't believe I just said that. I shouldn't have said that. It's not her fault that I'm so angry right now, not really. It's not really her fault that Eugene doesn't want to be here anymore, and that I can never go with him. I should apologi –'

"Oh, yeah? Is that what he told you?" The Baron's daughter steps forward herself, reaching out to shove Rapunzel at the shoulder, hard.

'This little spoiled, condescending bitch is going to get what's coming to her.'

"You know, I'd watch it, if I were you. What do you think your husband would say if he heard about all of this? Don't forget, Rapunzel, that I know everything."

Stalyan has never simply called Rapunzel by her first name before, only ever snidely addressing her as 'Princess.' Something about her name coming from Stalyan's lips feels demeaning, as though it were meant to be an insult of sorts.

"Hey —"

Rapunzel stumbles back a bit in the wake of Stalyan's shove, but she thankfully doesn't fall, catching herself quickly. Stalyan moves claustrophobically close, and Rapunzel can smell the faintest whiff of alcohol on her breath. She shoves Rapunzel at the shoulder again, a bit more forcefully this time. But this time, Rapunzel sees it coming.

"Come on, Princess. Won't you fight for him? Won't you fight for your precious little fairytale? Because I sure as hell would. I will fight for that man. Will you?" Stalyan sneers, her eyes burning.

She reaches out to shove the princess one more time, before Rapunzel grabs hold of Stalyan's wrist, mid-shove, pushing the Baron's daughter back.

"I'm not going to fight you, Stalyan."

"Why not?" Stalyan demands, leaning in again, speaking close to the princess's face, deep-seated jealousy and resentment dripping almost tangibly from her lips. "Isn't he worth it?"

A look of sudden realization soon crosses her face, and Stalyan juts her bottom lip in mock sympathy.

"Wait a minute… you're just scared, aren't you? Oh, you poor thing. Did all those years locked away in a tower make you such a coward?"

Rapunzel gauges Stalyan's harsh comment, allowing it to soak deep into her bones for a long moment, allowing the rage of their deliverer to soak right along with it.

'That's it. I don't need this. I didn't ask for any of this! I didn't ask for Charles to be here, I didn't ask for this marriage. I didn't ask for Stalyan to be here, pushing my buttons, trying to steal away the man that I love! I didn't ask to become this… this shell of the strong, sure women that I've worked so hard to be for a year after escaping my tower. All that I've ever wanted is Eugene! He is worth it – he is worth everything. Well, no more. No more shrinking back, no more simply accepting things for what they are. If she wants me to fight for him, then fine. I will.'

"Ugh!" Rapunzel lunges forward, pushed to the edge, tumbling far down into the abyss of pure rage, taking Stalyan's hair right down with her. "Leave. Eugene. Alone!"

The two women tumble to the floor with a hard THUNK, and Stalyan easily rolls a completely furious, though lightweight, Rapunzel. Stalyan swiftly pins the princess's arms to the floor, straddling her middle.

"Come on, Princess." Stalyan leers snidely from above, chuckling darkly. "You're going to have to be a lot faster than that. Flynn likes a girl who knows how to get the job done quickly."

"His name... is... EUGENE!"

Mustering all of her strength in the midst of the struggle, Rapunzel brings her knee upward, delivering a moderate blow to Stalyan's rib cage. The Baron's daughter breathes in sharply, a clench of the teeth, but she isn't pushed off of Rapunzel's body completely, just momentarily distracted. The princess thrashes hard against Stalyan's steady hands, which are harshly squeezing her wrists, going in for another jab to Stalyan's slender side.

"Rapunzel? Rapunzel!"

Both girls whip their gaze upward, freezing against one another, looking to the end of the hallway where the sudden, third voice is coming from. That's when Eugene rushes down the hall, ripping Stalyan from the princess, who stumbles to the side. He takes Rapunzel into his arms, lifting her from the ground as though she were light as a feather, immediately putting a healthy distance between Stalyan and the heaving princess. Stalyan watches as Eugene places a hand to either side of the princess's face, looking her over with the genuine concern of a lover, dragging his hands down her sides in a hasty examination. Overlooking on the intimate moment, only causes Stalyan's rage to boil and bubble over.

When Eugene determines that his princess is okay, free from any obvious bruising or marks, he turns to Stalyan, his eyes narrowed in a violent glare.

"What the fuck, Stalyan?" Eugene exclaims, the anger clearly visible on his handsome face. "I thought I told you to stay away from her!"

"What? The bitch lunged at me!" Stalyan crosses her arms, smirking slightly, though there's a clear fire still burning in her eyes. "I didn't do anything."

"That. Is not. What happened!"

With a furious huff, Rapunzel tries to rush from Eugene's arms, intending to make a bee line straight for Stalyan, not really sure what she would even do when she gets to Stalyan. Rapunzel is strong, regarding her petite frame, considerably nimble and quick. But clearly, Stalyan is the far more experienced hand-to-hand fighter, after years of working under the valiant hand of her father on the shadiest of thieving jobs. Despite this, Rapunzel is convinced that her current level of anger from the many stress-induced moments of this one, incredibly hellish night, very well might provide her with the upper hand.

But before Rapunzel has the chance to get away, Eugene holds her back, wrapping his arms around her front, pressing Rapunzel's back tightly against his chest. He looks again to Stalyan with an icy glare, but addresses the irate princess in his arms.

"Okay, Blondie, that's enough of that —"

"Yeah, Blondie."

'What a stupid nickname. She doesn't even have blonde hair!'

Rapunzel thrashes in Eugene arms, ready to prove her strength to a smug Stalyan.

'If only I had my frying pan. That would show her good.'

"No! Let go! She called me a coward, so let me show her just how much that's not true!"

"I don't think that's such a good —"

"Let me go, Eugene! Let. Me. Go!"

Rapunzel continues to thrash and swivel in Eugene's arms, but there's no use in fighting his tight grasp on her. It's not that he doesn't believe in her surprising strength – he's been the receiver of the frying pan's wrath and Rapunzel's steady swing more than once. Regardless, Eugene knows how dirty of a fighter Stalyan really is, and he's not about to willingly stand by and watch Rapunzel get hurt, even if she's completely capable of defending herself. Usually, he wouldn't deny her of that independence. But right now, Eugene is far too provoked, too stressed out, and too pissed off himself (thanks to the conversation he'd had with Charles earlier in the night), to care about Rapunzel's ego in the strained moment.

"Yeah, Eugene. Let her go!" Stalyan tries to persuade him, always playing devil's advocate, genuinely convinced that she's the superior fighter, and ultimately guaranteed to win. "I'd love to see what the princess is really made of!"

Dragging Rapunzel along with him, as though something has snapped deep inside of him, the princess still wrapped up firmly in his arms, Eugene suddenly steps very close to Stalyan. The two are so close, in fact, that their faces are only mere inches apart. The princess has her head tucked safely under his chin, watching the ex-lovers intently and shrinking back into Eugene, as if he's not the one to be afraid of in this moment.

'Well, I was right about one thing.' Stalyan muses to herself. 'The princess is nothing but a coward. Always letting someone else protect her.'

Looking Stalyan straight in the eye, Eugene's voice is more threatening than either of the two women have ever heard it before, low and dark. And they've both experienced an irate Eugene, an annoyed Flynn Rider – but nothing like the look on his face now, the deep warning in his tone.

"I want you to listen to me, Stalyan. I know that's not your strong suit, but really try, just this once." Eugene takes in a shaky breath, and Stalyan does too, intimidated by him for the first time in her life — though she wouldn't dare admit it.

"If you ever lay so much as a finger on her again, I swear... no, I promise… I will personally come after you. And I can guarantee that you won't fucking like it."

Then, Eugene simply walks away. He turns, carrying Rapunzel along with him, still wrapped protectively in his arms, just in case she finds it wise to lunge at Stalyan again. And Stalyan, mouth gaping, can only stand there and watch as they leave, completely dumbfounded in the wake of his aggressive response.

"Are you okay?" Stalyan faintly hears him ask the princess when they're far down the hall. Rapunzel only nods, tucking her head further into his neck, before they disappear around the corner.

And in that moment, Stalyan, without so much as a warning, is hit with the hard truth – a truth that she's never wanted to face, a truth that he'd all but pleaded with her to accept: Flynn really does love the princess, and passionately. It's not just some big rouse, Stalyan realizes. This isn't some ploy to steal something that's worth a lot of money from the royal family, as she'd once firmly convinced herself. Stalyan knows now, knows that Flynn's love for the princess is undeniable.

Because he's never protected her like that. Not even once.

And suddenly, Stalyan is finally standing at a crossroads with reality, a reality so painful that her chest threatens to cave in on itself. All those rumors had been true. He's still here, living in the castle, because he's in love with the princess.

A lot more than he'd ever loved her.

AN: Oooh, Eugene the protector. We all know that Rapunzel can protect herself just fine, but our man means business, now. Also, he's super pissed off, not only because of Stalyan and Charles's behavior on this stress-induced night, but because he can't just run away with Rapunzel – he has to deal with situations like this, instead. He's not putting up with Stalyan and her games anymore, and he's made that pretty clear now. But will Stalyan still stick around anyway? Will she seek out revenge on the princess? At least she's not completely in denial about Eugene's genuine love for Rapunzel anymore. Unfortunately, she had to realize that the hard way.

Tune in to Chapter 17 to find out what happens next!