AN: Hi, guys! I'm so glad to be back with you. Today's featured song is titled, She Is the Sunlight by Trading Yesterday. I've been patiently waiting for the recent twist in the plot to include this as a featured song. I found it all the way back when I first began writing this story in October! It feels like one of those songs that just belong in a collection of 'Honorary New Dream Songs.' (Yes, I have a playlist of those. It's almost as if I've spent years compiling songs for them or something). I love the song, though it's that special kind of heartbreaking which makes it being linked to New Dream in the mind's eye, all the harder to listen to, yet all the more beautiful.
I feel horrible that it's taken so long to get this chapter up, and I'm so sorry. I've been thinking of you guys, but I started school and work again this past week after a two month break, and life got all hectic once more with big girl responsibilities galore. I hope that you'll understand if updates aren't as frequent as they were, but I'll try my honest-to-goodness best to remain consistent.
In other news, I've recently posted a Rated M one-shot! It's titled 'The Reason Is You: A Moongene AU.' Consider checking it out if you have the time! I told myself that I was only going to focus on this story right now. But then, I got such a nagging feeling to write that one-shot, so I did… in one day – it was nagging me that much. In addition, I started a collection of poetry directly connected to New Dream and to this story. It's titled 'Pretty New Dream Prose.' My poetry is my pride and joy, so consider checking that out, as well! This chapter was pretty heavily inspired by one of the poems over there. The other projects that I've been working on caused this chapter to take a little longer than anticipated, so again, I'm sorry about that. Regardless, if you do happen to check out my other works, I appreciate you in advance!
But enough rambling from me… let's do this thing.
Chapter 21: The Girl Who Always Went Missing
Eugene throws up in the bushes just outside the castle gates as he's escorted to the prison.
His wobbly legs force Eugene to tilt dangerously forward, clothes dripping, his body shivering harshly with the remnants of the bitter water from the harbor. His head is pounding, but his heart has seemed to slow enough to think a little clearer (though, not much), now devoid of the pumping adrenaline which had shoved him headfirst into the harbor in the first place. The sun has finally set, and with it, she is gone. A dark cloak has blanketed Corona, as if the cobblestones streets themselves have realized that their princess is no longer there.
She brings sunlight to this kingdom. She is the sunlight in his life, and there is no warmth beaming against Eugene's face anymore – and this lack of warmth isn't because the literal sun itself has set. No, this newfound, dark depression which has blanketed not only the kingdom, but Eugene, has everything to do with her. Or, more so, this abrupt lack of her.
And what in the hell is he going to do without his Sunshine? His entire world revolves around her! What is he supposed to do – be a normal, not-lovesick person? This notion feels entirely impossible. After loving Rapunzel as deeply as Eugene has, for as long as he has, it's painfully unfeasible to simply wake up one day and stop feeling all-consumed by her. Especially now, when she's been ripped away from him, Charles sending a completely clear message tonight from that ship.
Eugene can't do that – he can't help but be consumed by her, can't help himself from being frozen in time there in the water, watching her go involuntarily. He just can't. It would've hurt to watch her go, regardless. It would've hurt like hell, even if it had been her choice. But to know that she hadn't wanted to go – to know that her freedom had been ripped from her fingers once more – has been shredding Eugene into tiny, little guilt-shaped pieces, spitting him out over and over again; spitting him out from the moment that he'd climbed from the water.
Well, from the moment that he'd been all but dragged out of the water.
And that's why he's throwing up in the bushes now: because the thought of her sailing away with him, is consuming him so entirely, that Eugene's body is actually rejecting the idea that she could somehow be gone. Disappeared into thin air, running through his hands like water – and he only has himself to blame for it. He only has himself to blame, because he never should've left her alone tonight, not even for a moment. Just as Charles had recently warned him, Eugene hadn't realized the catastrophic consequence of his missteps until they were staring him straight in the face.
And now, Eugene finally understands how Rapunzel must've felt as she'd stood there at the shore on the night of their first lantern festival together, when she'd been fully convinced that he'd abandoned her for the crown. Now, Eugene finally understands how helpless she must've felt, watching him get stabbed that day in the tower. And in spite of all of the missteps which Eugene has made in his life, Rapunzel has always blindly trusted him to be there, has always trusted him to protect her.
But after tonight, she's going to think that he's abandoned her with him. Rapunzel may understand that he hadn't abandoned her intentionally. Nonetheless, Eugene's selfishness over his princess had caused him to go blind to what was really going on – just as Charles had promised – which is enough to make Eugene feel sicker than a dog.
"Don't get any ideas, pretty boy."
Eugene feels a rough hand on his wet collar, attempting to yank him upwards. He plants himself in place the best that he can, not quite finished spitting out the long-lasting remnants of anxiety-induced bile, which are loitering on his tongue and against the soft flesh of his cheeks.
"Oh, no, why would I? I'm just a little busy hurling my guts up here!" Eugene croaks over his shoulder sarcastically, his stomach churning again hazardously, but apparently emptied enough to be satisfied.
For now.
It's gross. His body's reaction to all of this, is gross. He's not reacting like the strong, capable hero that she needs him to be right now. But he can't help it. Because her little body being yanked away from the ship's railing by Charles, his hand placed over her mouth, is stuck to the edges of Eugene's consciousness like a sticky nightmare which he can't hope to rid himself of. It's as though the horrific image has nestled itself deep inside of his mind, lining the pink tissue of his brain, creating a lifelong home there.
This image has burrowed itself there in his mind, because it isn't a nightmare at all – it's real. It's fucking real. And what had he done? He'd treaded water there and watched. Like a helpless idiot, he'd watched her drift away, his heart dropping to his stomach, joining the bile which had threatened to release itself right there in the harbor.
She'd desperately tried to sling her leg over the ship's railing, had tried to get to him there in the water. She'd known that he was there, watching her go, had seen that he would always come for her. But that knowledge hadn't been enough. Knowing that he would always come for her, isn't nearly the same as actually saving her. And then, her hips were yanked back, and she was snug against her husband's chest, and there was absolutely nothing that Eugene could do to get her away from him.
Eugene could hide her away in his bedroom in the middle of the night. Yeah, he was good at that. He could wallow in self-pity, could kiss her until she forgot her own name, could close the door behind her and pretend that the rest of the fucked up world didn't exist for a few hours. He could nuzzle her nose and chase away the darkest of nightmares, he could make her giggle through the salty tears, and he could make her weak in the knees with one sideways glance in her general direction. For fuck's sake, he could make love to her constantly, desperately willing away the pain of the past several months, but he couldn't save her this one time? In her greatest moment of need, he'd failed to be there for her? Again?
In Eugene's defense, the first time that he hadn't been there when she was in her greatest moment of need, was because he'd been knocked unconscious by the Stabbington's, and subsequently thrown into prison. If that shitshow had never happened, Eugene would've been perfectly content with giving up the crown and disappearing with Rapunzel, taking her wherever she wanted to go – though, Eugene is well aware that fate probably would've had other plans for them, regardless.
The universe had to truly level its karma with Eugene, at some point. After all, he'd gotten off a little too easy when he'd been brought back to life by a magical teardrop, and had been unrightfully rewarded for his extensive criminal escapades with a cushy castle to live in and a gorgeous princess to love.
Now is that point, it seems.
But even then, even as Eugene had been walking his sorry ass to the gallows, he'd found a way to get to her! Together, they'd defeated someone like Gothel that day. Together, in this very castle, they had defeated eighteen years of mental manipulation. And yet, they couldn't handle someone like Charles? A stuffy, pompously arrogant, overtly spoiled prince? A tantrum-throwing twenty-one year old, who had clearly never been told 'No' even once in his lifetime? He would be the one to do them in?
Then again, if Eugene wasn't currently in a mental fistfight with his throbbing ego, he would probably be able to admit to himself that he never should've underestimated the wildly jealous, purely psychotic prince. On this horrific night, the parallels of the past and of the present have become painfully clear: Charles has a villainous streak worthy of rivalling Gothel herself. All Charles would need to do now, is shove a dagger into Eugene's side.
Taking her would probably still hurt more – though, Eugene had learned, getting stabbed hurts like a bitch.
Eugene feels himself being yanked upright at the armpits, forcing him to stagger forward, trying his best to not trip over his own two feet. Catching several of the noisy snickers behind him, Eugene feels the cool metal of a sharp sword being pressed tantalizingly into the molded, sopping leather of his vest, and he tries very hard to keep his gaze forward-facing. He marches stiffly through the castle gates, and realizes that the grounds have been reduced to nothing more than an eerily silent ghost town. Frankly, Eugene is too afraid to ask why that is, and is still swimming in too much shock to make some snarky comment about it.
If this were another sticky situation in which he was being dragged to a prison cell, Eugene undoubtedly would be making snarky comments all the way down, and lots of them. But this is about Rapunzel. And anything concerning Rapunzel's safety must be taken so seriously by Eugene that his head could very well explode. This isn't the time for bravado, or snarky quips, or sarcasm. This is the time for silently figuring out what the hell he's going to do to get himself – and her – out of this mess.
The small group of strange, stoic men dressed in black armor were waiting for him when Eugene had dragged himself up the dock ladder, trembling, pissed off, and every kind of mentally fucked that a man could possibly be. Losing her is going to fuck him up good – as if he hadn't already been fucked up enough by having to watch her marry another man – and Eugene knows it.
But she's not lost, not forever! You'll figure a way out of this for her. You'll get to her, somehow. You have to.
The darkly-clothed men – there's three of them – point their swords in the direction of a darkly lit prison cell when the party of four arrives at the prison building, and Eugene is both relieved and mortified to be greeted by a painfully familiar voice.
"Eugene?" Arianna rushes to the cell bars, her delicate fingers clinging around the cold metal in anxious anticipation. "Eugene, sweetheart! What's happening?"
Pressing her worried face through the bars, all frazzled and wide-eyed, Eugene almost can't stand how much Arianna looks like Rapunzel. Usually, he would be pleasantly awestruck by their uncanny resemblance, having never quite gotten over it from the first time that he'd seen them together on the balcony. He'd been shocked that day at how unbelievably similar the two women really were – the day in which mother and daughter had finally been reunited after eighteen horribly long years apart.
Now, it were as though a ghost were staring at him through the bars, haunting Eugene with those green eyes – eyes which are so heartbreakingly similar to hers.
Their princess – their precious, sweet Rapunzel, who would give the shirt off her back to anyone who needed it, the girl who could rival the warmth of the sun itself, the girl who could make the most crotchety old man bite his tongue and laugh in spite of himself. Their princess, who none of them would ever be the same without.
Unlike Eugene, the king and queen are not new to any of this. Two decades ago, they had gone through their own personal hell of losing their baby once already, and the looks on their faces only set in stone the horrible familiarity of the whole thing. They know the routine anxiousness, the constant pacing, the praying to a God who they aren't sure if they can trust anymore – because how could their daughter be taken from them like this? How could she be taken from them again? How couldn't they have seen the signs? What could they have done to be more cautious, to make their home a safer place, to protect her?
Despite their experience with losing her, their anxiousness is not quenched, the eerie familiarity of the situation not offering any comfort whatsoever. Once again, the King and Queen of Corona have lost something which cannot possibly be replaced. When Rapunzel was taken two decades ago, in her absence, Frederic and Arianna had never truly recovered – not mentally, not emotionally, and certainly not in their hearts. In the last year, they had battled deep-rooted trauma and countless nightmares of their own, even though she'd been safely back in the walls of the castle. But once again, they have lost the only thing which they would die to protect. Once again, they have failed her.
Or so they've convinced themselves during the time in which the king and queen have spent pacing the prison cell, waiting for Eugene to inevitably arrive.
In a way, they'd hoped that he wouldn't come at all. Arianna had prayed and prayed that Eugene wouldn't end up down here with them. She'd hoped that the strange men who had infiltrated the castle grounds, wouldn't have figured out his location, too. Because if he's here, it means that she is not. And if she is not here, she is not safe.
One of the darkly-dressed men, the one who appears to be the leader of the three, fumbles with a loud set of jingling keys. The man unlocks the cell door, shoving Eugene roughly inside before slamming the bars behind him and sauntering wordlessly down the hallway, their shoes clicking on the stone and into the haunting dark of night. Only one of the men remain in the prison building, assumedly keeping watch of the door.
Arianna creeps toward him cautiously as Eugene catches his balance, appearing as though she can't quite trust herself to get close to him – because he reminds the queen so much of her, just as Arianna reminds Eugene of her. He reminds the queen that she isn't here with them.
"Is she…"
Eugene only shakes his head pathetically, the tears immediately welling in his eyes as the reality of their situation becomes palpable, and Arianna opens her arms to him before there's enough time to try to deny them. His heavy, guilt-filled head falls to the queen's petite shoulder – mostly because Eugene can't find the strength to deny the comfort in this vulnerable moment, even if he wanted to. Though he desires the warm comfort, Eugene is definitively certain that he doesn't deserve it.
Not anymore.
Though Arianna and Frederic feel as though they have failed their daughter once more, Eugene feels an even heavier weight settling upon his chest. Because not only has he failed Rapunzel, but he has failed her parents, too. And being in Arianna's arms like this, only reminds Eugene of his costly mistake.
The king and queen have their flaws, sure. They have their flaws, just like anyone else. Being royalty does not save you from that. But they love their daughter endlessly, and they had learned to love him, too. Eugene knows that they do. They'd proved it, in the way that they'd taken him into their home, in the way that they'd given him the family which he'd never had as a child. They'd trusted him to love and to be left alone with their daughter – even though he was much older, a treasonous criminal, and generally unworthy of their trust in the beginning. In spite of all of that, the king and queen had opened their arms to him, and had wrapped them around him as though Eugene were their own long-lost son.
And what has he given them in return? He's made promises that he couldn't keep, and he's failed the only two people who have ever resembled parental figures in his life. He's failed to keep the very important promise which he'd pledged to the king and queen a long time ago: back when his intentions with Rapunzel weren't quite so clear, as they are today.
'You'll look out for her? You will keep her out of trouble, and your relationship will remain nothing but pure-intentioned, and admirable, and safe for her?'
'I've died for her once. I'll do it again if I have to.' That's what he'd said in a mahogany-stained office, and he'd meant it – for the first time in his checkered life, Eugene was telling the complete, honest truth. 'I promise to always protect her.'
That's what he'd said to them: 'I promise.' That's what he'd said, when the king and queen had questioned his motives on the day that Eugene and Rapunzel had first arrived at the palace. Frederic and Arianna had verbally questioned his motives, once. Only once. After that slightly awkward, yet very necessary conversation, Eugene's intentions with Rapunzel were never brought up again – mostly because Eugene had proved that he'd meant what he'd said. His motives didn't need to be discussed any further, because his intentions with the young, freshly-arrived princess could be visibly seen: it could be seen in the way that he looked at her like she was pure sunlight, in the way that he brushed her choppy hair behind her ear with gentle fingers, in the way that his mouth quirked to the side whenever she was very, very excited about something (which was quite often, they all had learned). Eugene's intentions with the princess did not need further discussion in the eyes of the king and queen, because his promise had been so clear, so genuine.
So intended to be kept.
And he's broken it. He's sent that promise straight to hell to burn, right along with every other promise that he's ever made to Rapunzel to keep her safe. He'd unknowingly lied to her sweet face when he'd promised that he would always protect her. Apparently, today hadn't fallen under always.
And now, she's going to think that he can't be trusted. She's going to think that he didn't mean everything that he's ever said to her. She's going to feel betrayed, because no one had saved her from Charles – he hadn't saved her. And it's all his fault. It's all his fault, because he hadn't paid close enough attention, because he hadn't taken Charles's warnings seriously enough. Because he had told her to stay in her old bedroom for the night, where Charles had obviously found her attempting to hide from him.
He'd promised. Eugene had promised her that everything would be okay, that they would find a way out of (or, more likely, a way around) her marriage to Charles. He'd promised her that he would learn from his mistakes. He'd promised her that he was a different person, a better person – a less selfish person. He'd promised her that he would marry her one day. He'd promised her that he would give her little, green-eyed babies to run around their feet, had promised her that he would give her a beautiful, happy life. He'd promised her that he would always love her, had promised her that he would always offer all of himself to her, day after day for the rest of their lives.
Promises were completely sacred to Rapunzel, and Eugene had known that about her since the day he'd first met her. Promises were made to be kept, not broken. Never broken. He'd taught her a lot of things, but she'd taught him that.
Eugene had promised her a lot of things that he hadn't been able to keep. And today, he'd broken the most important promise of them all:
'I will always protect you. I will always love you, and I promise that I will always protect you.'
That's what he'd promised her. That's what he'd murmured to her, holding her close as she'd sobbed and sobbed into his chest in the middle of so many countless, sleepless nights, caught in the rip-current of another horrifying flashback of Gothel and that traumatic last day in the tower. She would cry against him, enveloped in another heart-stopping nightmare about Eugene's cold, dead body lying there in her arms on the tower floor. He had whispered such promises over and over again into her damp, moon-illuminated hair, had whispered promises to always keep her safe, desperate to console her – promises that he'd had every intention of keeping, at the time.
At the time: before Charles, before the marriage, and before this horrible, horrible mess had inevitably come crashing down around them – all because he hadn't been strong enough to keep it from doing so.
"I tried! I tried, I tried… I ran, and I got there, but she was already – ugh!" Eugene sniffles loudly, reaching up to wipe his tears.
He feels completely embarrassed for reacting this way – for reacting so childishly – especially in front of the king. But Eugene also doesn't feel as though he could keep the hopeless, bitter tears from falling against his cheeks if he wanted to.
"And… and she was too far! And I – I wasn't enough, I didn't… I should've… but now she's gone! And I tried, and I'm so, so sorry…"
"Shh… shh. I know you did, honey. I know you did. Just breathe. Take a breath for me, okay?"
Eugene releases an entirely pathetic sob into the soft, satin material of her dress, feeling Arianna's hand in his hair, murmuring to him quietly. And suddenly, Eugene just can't accept the queen's wonderful, motherly comfort – comfort which he fully understands that he does not deserve. He can't accept this comfort, because Arianna's slender fingers brushing through his hair lovingly, feel a little too similar to her daughter's fingers, and those green, worried eyes are a little too familiar, and the queen's soft, consoling voice sounds a little too much like hers.
No! I need to cut it out, I can't do this right now. I can't fall apart! If I fall apart now, I'll never be strong enough to get to her, and I need to get her back. Because if I don't get her back, I'm going to lose it. I'm going to lose it, and I'll become a horrible, terrible person again. Because without her, I'm nothing. I can't do this without her, I can't go on –
Eugene pulls away from Arianna abruptly, angrily swiping at his tears with the back of his hand, as if attempting to pretend that they'd never been there dampening his cheeks at all.
"Fuck!"
Eugene slams the palm of his shaking hand against the stone wall, a sharp pain stinging through it, shooting its way up and into his bicep – though, no pain can compare to the pain of losing her. His face falls into his hands, and Arianna is immediately hovering over him as Eugene wobbles in place, hunched over, trying to force the tears back behind his eyelids. He clamps a hand around his stinging wrist, willing the pain to subside.
Willing himself to get it together.
"FUCK!"
"Eugene, dear, it's okay." Arianna pleads with him, clear concern etched across her softened face. "We're going to figure this out, we're going to get her back! We will move heaven and earth to get to her, you know this! But we need to keep our heads, or we'll never be able to –"
The guilt-ridden young man pulls himself from his hunched position, anger burning in Eugene's eyes – anger which Arianna understands isn't truly directed at her.
"No! No, it's not okay! This is all my fucking fault! She's gone, and it's my fault! I should've been with her. I should've been there, and I should've…" Eugene stutters in his frustration, the anxiety rising dangerously in his chest, jumbling his words. "I-I never should've let her be on her own, and I never should've pushed Charles so hard. I never should've done this, I should've left –"
"This isn't your fault, honey." The queen interrupts him sternly, desperate to make Eugene understand that he's done all that he could, at least for now. "This isn't really anyone's fault but his, but it's especially not yours. If anything, Fred and I…"
Arianna shoots a pleading look in the direction of her quiet husband, who has been sitting wordlessly in the corner of the cell since Eugene's arrival, a horribly furious look on his weathered face.
"We should've protected her better from this man. That isn't your fault. We are her parents, and it was our job to protect her from this. So no, Eugene, it is not your fault that he took her from us."
Eugene wants to believe the queen. He wants to thank her for her consoling words, and move on. Really, he does. But of course all of this is his fault. How couldn't it be? Because if Eugene had been strong enough to walk away from her when Charles had warned him to do so, if he would've tried just a little harder at convincing Rapunzel that having an affair was a dangerous idea with a high potential of completely blowing up in their faces like this, Charles never would've felt the need to take her.
So, yes, it's completely his fault that Charles has kidnapped her.
"Oh, God… I think I'm gonna be sick again."
Eugene leans a clammy palm against the cold, stone wall, dry heaving with his head hanging between his legs – a single, haunting phrase cycling through his mind on a sickening repeat:
She's gone. She's gone, she's gone, she's gone!
Arianna reaches forward, her face racked with her own guilt and nervous energy, rubbing Eugene's back soothingly as he tries to force the fresh wave of putrid bile back down his throat.
"If you throw up in this tiny cell, I will kill you."
A harsh voice echoes from the darkest corner of the prison cell, and Eugene hears some shuffling, scoffing visibly as Cassandra steps into the dusky light filtering in from the small cell window. Eugene turns fully around to face her, shrugging Arianna's hand away in his own anxiety-ridden movement.
Great. As if this nightmare couldn't get any worse, I have to be trapped in a prison cell with the Lady of Darkness herself?
"You're gonna kill me, Cass?" Eugene steps toward the clearly irate lady-in-waiting, walking toward her until they're nose-to-nose. "You and what army?"
"You think I need an army, Fitzherbert? I could kill you with my bare hands in my sleep."
Frederic stands from his own dark corner, speaking for the first time since Eugene's arrival – placing a steady hand to Eugene's chest, forcing him to take a step back and away from Cassandra, who scoffs herself – fully understanding the history of their tumultuous relationship.
"Children, please. Come now. Being at one another's throats is not going to get us out of here, and it's definitely not going to bring my daughter home safely." The visibly shaken, visibly angry father shakes his head thoughtfully, running an anxious hand through his greying beard. "I always had a feeling that something was off about that boy. I just –"
"Something off? You think there's just something off about him?" Eugene cries, abruptly sending the king's train of thought right off the tracks, rapidly shifting his frustration from one person to the next. "No, there's something off about Shorty, or maybe even Old Lady Crowley! But there is not just something off about Charles. The guy is a complete psychopath who has your daughter right now, and we need to get her back!"
Frederic sighs heavily, narrowing his eyes in a determined fashion. The king leans forward, taking Eugene by the shoulders and shaking the younger man slightly, as if begging him to get it together – to get it together for her. The king understands that the hysterical young man before him loves his daughter just as much as he does, and something about this makes him even angrier. It makes Frederic angrier, because Charles has taken too much from too many people tonight.
"I'll kill him myself. We will kill him for doing this to her. You can mark my words, Eugene. But if we remain angry with one another, we aren't going to get anywhere."
Eugene knows full well that Frederic is right, but he already feels like he isn't going anywhere. He's hit an emotional roadblock, a mental dead-end, and his heart isn't capable of moving forward. He's going to stay right here, involuntarily frozen in time, incapable of processing this heart-shattering loss. And perhaps the steady hands of the king, and the consoling eyes of the queen, won't be enough to keep him from completely losing it tonight.
When Eugene was eight years old, he broke the glass of a ground-level orphanage building window.
He'd fully intended to throw the ball to Lance – had fully intended for the hard, round ball to melt directly into the palm of his best friend's hand. Really, he had. But the shattering sound had brought an immediate cringe upon Eugene's young, mischievous face. He'd known right then, standing there in shock, staring at the shattered glass, that he was going to be in big trouble – mostly because Lance had told him so. Lance, who had failed to catch the ball in the first place.
Eugene had gotten a good voice-raising, finger-wagging, knuckle-rapping whooping for that one.
When Eugene was fifteen, he met a girl with striking violet eyes, a heinous attitude, and an 'I get what I want' complex, instilled by an overprotective father who spoiled her silly. And Eugene, in a twisted way, had loved her. Granted, the way in which he'd loved her had been completely fucked up – their love had ridden the borderline of unbearably toxic, more often than not. More often than not, he'd put up with her, because putting up with her meant remaining connecting to her father, and remaining connected to her father meant jobs, and jobs meant money. But he had cared for her, at one time – although, that time was very, very long ago.
Nonetheless, time – which includes the mistakes of the past, which Eugene would do anything to escape from – cannot be completely ignored or forgotten, no matter how much of it has passed.
She'd hurt him, the girl with the violet eyes, but he'd hurt her, too. Granted, she'd treated him like shit, had made him feel like he was never really good enough for her. Her father certainly didn't think he was, and he'd never let Eugene forget it. But Eugene had pushed her over the edge with his own deceitful ways more times than he's proud to admit, had egged her into her malicious attitude and inability to trust men like him. He'd left her standing there in a white dress, which is just about the worst thing that you can do to a young woman.
Granted, it had all turned out for the best – at least, in Eugene's eyes. If he would've gone through with marrying her, his life would've been a complete disaster – he would still be a complete disaster. But this sudden betrayal after all that they'd been through together, had broken her – much more than she would ever be willing to admit out loud. It had broken her enough for her to now want to harm the only thing that's ever truly mattered to him.
When Eugene was twenty-five, he had the most perfect girl in the palm of his very hand.
Or, more accurately, she'd had him in the palm of her hand. And maybe he wasn't the one to break her himself, as he'd taken the liberty of so distinctly, so deliberately breaking the girl with the violet eyes – breaking her for all the times that she'd broken him. No, this girl was different. She was sunlight in human form, she was the first good thing that really belonged to him. She was the first thing that was good enough to make him want to be good, too.
And maybe Eugene wasn't the driving force as to why this perfect girl has changed, retreating to an ugly place of eighteen-year-insecurity, and speculation, and gloomy moods which are just so utterly unlike her. Maybe it isn't directly his fault that she was forced to be married to someone else, maybe it isn't his fault that she hasn't been herself these days. But he's lost her, has let her run through his hands like water, and that is his fault. And somehow, losing her like that – to have her be taken from him – feels a whole lot worse than breaking her.
Anyone can break something which they love. In long-term relationships, people break one another's hearts – it's inevitable. They mold and mend one another, over and over again. Anyone can break the heart of a person in which they love, and anyone can put it back together again, if they're willing to change. But not everyone is stupid enough to allow the best thing that's ever happened to them, slip right between their fingertips.
So, why is it that Eugene Fitzherbert has a special knack for breaking everything that he touches?
Because he takes things for granted. And then, they are taken from him. He gets comfortable, and he allows himself to believe in dreams which cannot be fulfilled, because he does not deserve any resemblance of good karma from the universe. The universe is currently giving him an incredibly impressive middle finger for his lifetime of bad, selfish decisions.
And why does all of this have to feel so eerily familiar? Pacing a prison cell, paralyzing trepidation coursing through him, because he knows – he just knows – something very bad is going to happen. Something bad is going to happen to her, and he is powerless to save her. And if he would've just been a little stronger, if he would've put his own desires aside for five minutes, she would still be in this castle, sound asleep in her own bed.
But no – because he's incredibly stupid and even more selfish, he'd allowed her to be stolen from her bed, shoved onto a ship, and taken away.
Eugene had not been ignorant to the raincloud of blunt whispers which had plagued his initial arrival in the palace all those months ago. Sure, the maids chittered about how handsome he was, and he'd taken those whispers in stride. There were others who, like the king and queen, had graciously believed in his Rapunzel-induced road to redemption.
But further, there were other whispers – harsh whispers, and lots of them. Whispers about how someone like him could never deserve the princess. Whispers about how he couldn't have possibly changed in the matter of only a few days. Because he was a thief, and a liar, and could not be trusted, despite his lengthy time in the castle, during which he'd been on his best behavior.
Aside from frequently letting the princess sneak into his bed at night, and sneaking her out of balls to kiss her in the gardens. But that's beside the point.
Regardless of Eugene's merited behavior and his pledge to change in that first year of living in the castle, there were still those in the kingdom who strongly believed that he could not be trusted to protect the princess beyond the very special circumstance of their crown-stealing, lantern-watching, falling-head-over-heels-in-love adventure together. There were those who firmly believed that there was no princess, no woman, and no miraculous, life-altering event, which could force him to truly change. In the eyes of some, Eugene would always be nothing more than a misguided, orphaned thief.
He'd tried to protect her from the whispers, had tried to shield her ears which were so new to the world – because these whispers had made her so unbearably angry when she'd ultimately caught wind of them. She would always beg him to believe that they weren't true, that those people didn't know him like she did, so they couldn't possibly see what a changed man he truly was.
But, just as predicted by those harsh whispers and strict non-believers, he has failed to do right by her, has failed to protect her. Every one of those harsh whispers had been harshly correct: Eugene has failed to keep the princess safe, as he'd once promised that he always would.
He's everything they said he would be.
And Eugene will be haunted by that. In the last few months, he's felt as though he's been the one doing all of the haunting, pathetically dragging himself around the castle with no real light at the end of the tunnel, because Rapunzel had unwantedly pledged the rest of her life to someone who isn't him. But no, Eugene will now shift from hauntee to haunted – haunted by the memory of her until she's nestled safely back in his arms. Because the sound of her sweet laughter has dug its way a little too deep into his ears, the feeling of her skin has been engraved into his palms, and the delicate features of her face have been burned behind his eyelids – so much so, that not being haunted by her now, is completely out of question.
Without her, there is simply no joy to be had, no reason to be good. No reason to prove those suspicious council members and non-believers wrong. Without her, there's no reason for any of it.
Over the course of more than a year now, Eugene and Rapunzel have slipped into an intimacy which is so comfortable, and so strong – an intimacy which cannot be recovered from – especially after everything in which they've been through together. The two of them have formed an emotional bond which cannot be broken; this bond cannot be broken by the sands of time, or even by the distance put between them now – this horrid distance, created by someone who does not deserve her, someone who has taken the liberty of taking her away from her kingdom once more.
No, Eugene can still feel her here, even now. He can sense her fear and her anxiety from deep within himself, even in this dark, dank prison cell. He'll always be so painfully in tune with her. And this will fuel a bloodlust to come which will be so strong, that Eugene isn't entirely sure if he'll ever be capable of escaping its iron grip.
He will not be satisfied until Charles gets exactly what's coming to him, and he will not be whole again until she is here with him, safe. Well, not here, literally – because here is a cold, claustrophobic prison cell, keeping him from her, and Eugene can just barely stomach the irony of it all.
The golden sun has just begun to peak out from the kingdom skyline, casting the dull shadows of dawn into the small cell. Eugene has his back pressed against the stone wall, anxiously keeping watch of the dark prison hallway as the king and queen try to get some uneasy rest. Eugene has had an utterly bad feeling all night – not only because Rapunzel is gone, but because there hasn't been any sign of a single palace guard since yesterday. Everything feels eerie, and wrong, and off-putting – so much so, that Eugene isn't sure if he'll ever shake the dark, damp feeling.
Eugene brings the heels of his palms to his eyes, rubbing them hard, trying to keep himself awake, and trying to force the horrific image of Rapunzel on that ship out of his brain for even just a second long enough to catch some much-needed relief.
"You better hope like hell that we get her back, Fitzherbert."
Eugene jerks his head toward the feminine voice of the shadowed figure, watching her closely as she rests her elbows on her knees, back pressed straight against the adjacent wall.
"What's that supposed to mean, Cass?"
"I mean… it's a little bit your fault that she's gone, isn't it?" Cassandra pushes herself abruptly from the cell floor, stalking toward him and speaking in hushed tones, trying her best not to wake a sleeping Arianna and Frederic.
"I mean, you let her get married. You let her be left alone with him last night, when clearly, she shouldn't have been."
The lady-in-waiting crouches menacingly close in front of Eugene, steely eyes narrowed in the purest hatred that he has ever seen.
And he's known a lot of people who've hated him for a lot of different reasons.
"You had an affair with her. An affair that pushed Charles far enough to make him take her."
Eugene narrows his own eyes now, having battled enough shame within himself throughout the night, to not need a lengthy guilt-trip from Rapunzel's usually icy, always judgmental friend.
"And what about you, Little Miss Judgy? You're her lady-in-waiting, her best friend!" Eugene shoots back, trying his best to keep his voice low in this newfound state of pure irritation, digging his palms into the stone floor as Arianna stirs quietly on her cot. "You know, you're supposed to look after her, too. Doesn't that make this just as much your fault as it is mine?"
Cassandra chuckles darkly – chuckles in the way that it really sounds more like a disbelieving scoff, retreating to her shadowy spot against the wall adjacent from Eugene.
"Oh, no, no, Fitzherbert. Don't you even try to displace the blame here. I don't see Charles getting jealous over me. Jealous enough to fucking kidnap her." Cassandra hisses furiously, staring Eugene down in the dim, morning light. "Like she hasn't gone through enough of that for one lifetime!"
Okay, so Cass raises a valid point. But Eugene isn't going to admit that. Not when his ego is so bruised.
"You think I don't know that? You think I don't know that she doesn't deserve this?" Eugene shakes his head, a fresh wave of mixed-up guilt and anger causing his body to shudder in spite of himself. "You think I don't feel horrible right now?"
"I think you don't know much of anything, because you spend a little too much time thinking with a certain body part, rather than thinking with your brain."
Eugene stares back at Cassandra, hard, releasing a heavy sigh which sounds more like a defensive laugh.
"If you have something to say to me, why don't you just say it, Cass? We're both big kids here, and I know you. I know that you must have some climactic insult of the century in that bitter head of yours. So, why don't you just say what you want to say already?"
"Fine. I will." Cassandra bares her front teeth, looking him straight in the eye as she leans toward him. "I think you're an idiot."
Eugene scoffs, rolling his eyes in the barely-lit cell.
"Alright, do you have anything new to say to me? Maybe some original material? Because I think I've heard that one from you, oh, I don't know… a thousand times?"
Cass holds up a steady hand, shaking her head defiantly, immediately shutting him up.
"I wasn't finished. I think you're an idiot for not either fighting for her harder, or getting the hell away from her! You all but dragged her into this mess. Now she's gone, and we're stuck in this cell, with no way to get to her and no idea where the hell anyone else is! And who knows where he's taking her! We can assume that they're going to Maddoline, but we're sitting in the dark here, literally!"
Cassandra blows hot air from her nose angrily, leaning back against the wall.
"He outplayed us, all because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself, or go."
Eugene really doesn't appreciate the way that Cass seems to insinuate that he'd forced Rapunzel into having an affair with him, which was entirely not the case. If anything, the princess had coerced and seduced him into having the affair with her. Of course, he'd been completely willing, and hadn't really put up much of a fight. But that's beside the point.
Regardless, Eugene's voice drips with defensiveness when he speaks again, trying his best to pick his words carefully.
"You know, Cass, she is a consenting adult. You can't just treat her like a little kid forever. She's not in the tower anymore, or even fresh out of it! She knew exactly what she was doing with me and what the consequences could be for doing it. We both did."
Granted, they hadn't considered that Charles would actually go as far as to kidnap her just to separate them. Honestly, Eugene had considered that Charles might hire a hitman to take him out in a dimly-lit alleyway before physically taking her away from him. Eugene hadn't anticipated that the prince's menacing warning on the night of the party, could result in this nightmare from hell.
Nonetheless, Eugene and Rapunzel had both been well aware that shit would hit the fan if the prince ever did find out about their affair. They had taken that risk, because they'd always been a little too willing to risk it all for one another.
"She chose to stay with me. She chose to sneak around to see me. I didn't choose that for her, nor did I manipulate her into doing anything. You should know by now, that I would never do that." Eugene grits his own teeth, his mood tanking from utterly depressed, to rigid anger. "So don't you dare sit there on your high horse, and act like I forced her into this. Because we both know that's not true."
Picking at her nails casually, Cass shrugs, eyeing him with her perpetually hard, 'I can see right through you' gaze.
"Maybe not. But I think you understand how much you mean to her. I think you knew that she wouldn't be able to let go of you on her own. And I think that sad, selfish, little ego of yours was too bruised to just walk away from her." Cass pauses, scoffing in disappointment as she continues.
"Even if walking away from her would've kept her safe."
Cassandra's final comment strikes Eugene down like a sword to the chest. Her harsh words flash Eugene back to a particular moment in time: the morning after he and Rapunzel had made love for the first time, when Lance had tried his honest best to talk some sense into him. Eugene realizes now, that he probably should've listened.
'Look, I know it's fucked up, all of it. But I'm willing to let the chips fall where they may. I'll face the consequences when they come… if they come.'
'You know, Eugene, you might not care what happens to you if someone catches you, but what about what could happen to her? Charles doesn't exactly seem like the kind of guy that would let this slide if he found out.'
What about what could happen to her?
Oh, God. The consequences had come with a cruel vengeance, hadn't they? Just as Eugene had feared that they would, just as Lance had assumed that they would, and just as Charles had verbally warned him that they would.
"You don't know what it's like." Eugene responds quietly, his face softening for only a moment, caught in the painful hindsight of that morning with Lance. "You don't know what it's like to love her."
"Yeah, Eugene, I do. Maybe not in the same way that you do, but I know what it's like to love her, and I know what it's like to want to protect her from people like Charles." Cassandra narrows her eyes, taking a deep breath before continuing. "And from people like you, for that matter."
People like me?! You mean, people who adore her with everything they have, people who love her so much that they would die for her, over and over again if they had to?
That's what he wants to say.
But Eugene only shakes his head, willing himself to bite his tongue, but knowing that he won't be able to. Not right now. Not after this pathetic excuse for a civil conversation between two people who have one, mutual goal: get their princess back. Not after this pathetic excuse for a conversation, which has inevitably turned into Cassandra finding every possible way to make Eugene feel like a piece of shit.
Go figure.
Cass has done enough of that in the last nearly year and a half, but it had all been in good fun. But right now, with tensions running so unbelievably high, Eugene has had just about enough of her deprecating, judgmental, know-it-all attitude. He could choose the route of civility, could brush off Cassandra's harsh comments as an obvious result of their current stress levels – he could, because that's what Rapunzel would want. She wouldn't want the two of them absolutely at each other's necks in her absence.
But taking the long road to civility isn't looking so promising right about now. It doesn't even look plausible, for that matter.
"You know what, Cass?"
"What's that, Eugene?" The dark-haired girl questions, her narrowed eyes all but begging him to defy her soundproof logic – her logic that, yes, this entire situation is completely his fault, just as Eugene has been beating himself up over since the horrific events of the previous evening.
"You can go fuck yourself."
Eugene regrets the harsh words the moment that they leave his mouth. He regrets them, because he knows that Rapunzel would be disappointed in him for them. It's mostly the anxiety and the anger toward himself talking, and Eugene knows that. But being egged on by Cassandra, is the last thing that he needs right now, and he's going to make sure that she knows just how much he doesn't appreciate her perpetual guilt-tripping when it comes to Rapunzel and his inability to walk away from her.
"Oh, I can go fuck myself, huh?"
Cassandra inevitably raises her voice – loudly – and Frederic and Arianna sit up straight in their cots as Cass rises from her place on the ground once more, stalking toward Eugene as he quickly stands himself. The irate lady-in-waiting glares up at Eugene with a menacing look in her eye, clearly overtaken by anxious energy just as much as he is.
"Aren't we in here, because you couldn't handle not getting fucked? Aren't we in this mess, because you just couldn't keep your dick in your pants for more than five fucking minutes?"
Eugene's emotional mercury threatens to blow, boiling over from his veins, and lacing through his words with an anger which Cassandra has never seen from him before. She's pushing him over the edge, and she knows it, but Cassandra is too worried about Rapunzel herself to care about Eugene's feelings – when, in her mind, he's partly to blame – mostly to blame.
"Are you fucking serious? You're making me out to be some horrible person, like I wanted this! Like I wanted this to happen to her!" Eugene's hands become more and more animated as he speaks, his voice rising with each word. "You think all of this happened because I'm just some man whore who can't keep themselves together? No, this happened because I'm in love with her, and our good, old buddy Charles didn't like that very much. And I'm sorry, Cassandra, that I can't just stop loving her!"
Eugene watches as Cassandra's face softens, only slightly. But he's on a dangerous roll now, and there's no turning back from this. Not after the long night that he's had, a night of doing nothing but blame himself for Rapunzel being taken. He can't stop, especially not now: now that Cassandra has confirmed that his self-blame is completely warranted and utterly valid.
"And yeah, I couldn't walk away. I couldn't walk away from her, and I probably never will be strong enough to do that. And maybe that makes me a selfish idiot. But fuck! I'll be an idiot, for her. That's all I've ever been, and I don't need you of all people to remind me!"
Cassandra pushes her eyebrows together, the softness of her face completely fleeting, leaving just as quickly as it had graced her typically-stoic face.
"Apparently you do! And apparently, I should've told you what an idiot you are a little sooner, so that maybe we could've avoided this mess!"
The king and queen, blinking their eyes which are still heavy with the remains of uneasy sleep, look to the two young people with concerned expressions, not appreciating this heated wakeup call after a long night of haunting dreams about losing their precious daughter for the second time to a greedy, selfish person.
"What did I say to the two of you last night?"
"She started it!" Eugene cries, motioning toward Cassandra as she leans against the wall quietly. "She –"
Frederic pinches the bridge of his nose in clear frustration, hanging his head between his legs as his large form sits on the edge of the cot. The king allows his face to fall into his palms momentarily, before lifting his head to shoot Eugene a hard look that only an effective father-figure could deliver.
"What did I say, Eugene?"
Defeated, Eugene sighs heavily, his bitter anger toward Cass shifting to misplaced grumpiness toward the king.
"That fighting with one another isn't going to get us anywhere." Eugene grumbles, once again slumping against the wall, landing hard on the cold floor, but not caring about the soreness in his tailbone. "Or get Rapunzel back."
"That's right." Arianna shuffles over to him, gently rubbing Eugene's shoulder with a tender smile, the sleep still visible in her hooded, emerald eyes. "Why don't you try to get some rest, honey? I think it would do you some good. We're all stressed out right now, and if we aren't sleeping, it's only going to make things worse."
"I can't." Eugene croaks quietly, looking away, not very much in the mood to be mothered – not when pathetic tears are pricking annoyingly at the corners of his eyes. "How am I supposed to sleep right now?" With a shuddered breath, he adds, "She probably hasn't."
"You need to try."
Arianna sighs, crouching down to be at eye-level with him when Eugene refuses to look her in the eye, placing a soft hand to his cheek.
"She would want you to try, Eugene."
Eugene only scoffs, turning his head so that Arianna can't see the hot, angry tears welling up in his eyes – because she's right.
Arianna is completely right. Rapunzel would beg him to get some sleep if she were here. She would chatter on and on about the benefits of a consistent, good night's sleep, and how bodies need proper energy if they want to have a chance at having any real fun at all.
"Don't do that." Eugene narrows his eyes, wiping at his nose which is definitely not dripping with tears. "Don't tell me what she would want. She's not here to speak for herself, and it's my fault that she's not."
Arianna leans forward, taking both of his hands into hers as she remains crouched in front of Eugene, squeezing his fingers encouragingly between hers. It's a shame that Eugene hadn't had a motherly-figure for the majority of his life, because they really are pretty great in times like these.
At least, mothers like Arianna are. He's not really sure what his mother would've been like, though part of Eugene is thankful that he doesn't have anyone to compare the queen to. If Eugene does have children someday, he would only want to have children by someone as gentle and loving as Arianna.
Someone like her daughter.
"Eugene, sweetheart." Arianna squeezes his hands in hers a little tighter, willing him to look at her. "Just listen to me, please. If you don't sleep, and if you can't get over this blaming yourself thing… you are never going to be strong enough to get to her."
The queen lowers her voice, leaning in a bit closer, almost so they're nuzzling noses.
"I know that Cassandra can be harsh. I know that she has her opinions about you. And I know that everything that happened the other day was hard for you. I know that we made you feel unwelcome here. But I don't blame you for any of this, and I don't see you as my son any less than I did before, okay? You know that, don't you?"
Eugene registers her sweet words, knowing that the queen is right. If he doesn't sleep, or at the very least try to get some restless sleep, he's never going to have the energy to rescue her. And if he keeps swimming in this deep pool of pathetic self-pity, he's never going to get to her at all.
He's never going to get anywhere.
So, instead of arguing with her any further, Eugene allows the queen to help him up, guiding him to the cot that she'd been lightly sleeping on only minutes before. She all but tucks him in, giving his shoulder one last, motherly rub, before retreating to the other side of the cell where Frederic has quietly seated himself, whispering with Cassandra – probably trying to concoct some sort of escape plan.
Sleep doesn't come easily, though, just as Eugene had suspected that it wouldn't. His mind is racing too quickly for sleep to seem plausible. Behind his eyelids, her face is burned there – her terrified expression, her arms waving on that ship, screaming, 'Save me! Save me from him!'
Eugene has spent a lot of his life despising the person that he was – most of his life. For a long time, he'd shielded the sad orphan inside of himself, with a false bravado and an overbearing, cocky confidence. He'd really only started remotely, genuinely liking himself when he'd met Rapunzel. Even then, he'd only begun to like the person that he was, because she had inspired him to dust the heavy layer of cobwebs from Eugene Fitzherbert, had inspired him to hang up the Flynn Rider mask once and for all.
He liked who he was as Eugene for the first time, because she liked who he was when he was Eugene.
But he's been acting a little like Flynn Rider lately, hasn't he? He's been selfish, so incredibly selfish: selfish with her. Selfish enough to keep himself from walking away – even though, as Cassandra has so elegantly pointed out, walking away probably would've kept her a whole lot safer, and probably would've stopped Charles from deeming a kidnapping to be necessary. Nonetheless, even Flynn Rider himself would be disappointed in his recent behavior, and it had been pretty hard to make Flynn Rider judge someone for anything.
Eugene hasn't been the person that Rapunzel expects him to be, the person that she deserves. Walking away wouldn't have been what she'd wanted – or even what he'd wanted, for that matter. But walking away would've kept her safe, and she deserves that much from him. He'd promised her so, after all.
And what had he done the night before her wedding? He'd gotten drunk. He'd allowed Lance to convince him to go out, try his damn best to get Rapunzel off of his mind, but he hadn't – he couldn't. She was all he ever thought about. He'd spent that entire night thinking about nothing but her, until she'd showed up at his door, and she was once again more than a simple daydream. She was right there in front of him: soft skin, and sad, green eyes, and a deep frown that just didn't suit her beautiful, sunshiny face.
And he'd been drunk, because he couldn't handle the thought of giving her away to another man – couldn't handle the thought of her in a white dress that he wouldn't be the one to take off of her. And what had he done? He'd sent her away, because she hadn't deserved to see him that way. She'd really never seen him so wallow-like and pathetic before that night. He'd been embarrassed, his ego taking the reigns as usual, and he'd sent her straight into the arms of her batshit-crazy husband.
And maybe if Eugene had just fought for her that night, or maybe if he'd just let her go like he should've, they wouldn't have to be in this mess. Because if Eugene would've been strong enough to just let go, if he would've given her even the slightest chance of being happy with the prince, Charles never would've felt so inclined to take her from her home.
Now, thanks to his own selfishness, she's probably terrified out of her mind, and cold, and sobbing into her pillow, and Eugene can only blame himself. He can only blame himself, because he is so selfish with her, that he couldn't handle simply walking away for the benefit of her safety.
Eugene, though he'd felt a little silly for it at first, had always believed that he was destined to meet Rapunzel. He'd never bought into the whole 'soulmate' thing before – at least, until he met her, and he'd become convinced that his entire life, and everything that had happened to him, had led him straight to her.
But maybe he wasn't destined to be with her at all. Maybe he was always destined to bring her home, to bring her back to her family, to keep her safe just long enough to do that much – destined to keep her safe, but not to be by her side forever. Maybe he was never really meant to be her happily ever after, and maybe he's fucked up his one job of protecting her, just like he seems to fuck up everything else in his life. He'd done it as a thief, and he's doing it now, this vicious cycle of selfishness refusing to let him go.
He's half agony and half hope: cynically praying for a miracle which will likely never come, praying that he hasn't screwed up so horribly, that he will never hold her in his arms again. Praying that the woman he is destined to love, will soon come back to him. Praying that, if she does find her way back home once more, she will somehow trust him to protect her again. Though, Eugene would wholeheartedly understand if Rapunzel weren't capable of giving him a second chance after this.
Because Cass is right: he's selfish, and an idiot, and really never deserved her at all.
Eugene has never felt a guilt quite this heavy before, a guilt quite this consuming. Sure, he'd felt a little guilty the day after leaving Stalyan at the altar, but that had all turned out for the best (Well, had it? Because if he hadn't walked away from her, Stalyan wouldn't feel the need to be roped up in this current mess of theirs. No, getting the chance to meet Rapunzel was well worth it).
Sure, he'd felt guilty for leaving Rapunzel there on the shore with the boat after the lanterns, when he'd fully intended to give up the crown and go right back to her. Sure, he'd felt guilty about letting Rapunzel drag him into an affair – guilty about being the reason why she was fine with sneaking around, and hiding things from her parents, and lying to herself that the whole thing was okay. And sure, he'd even felt guilty for the person that he'd been before he met her.
But this… this guilt which Eugene feels now, curled pathetically on the hard cot of a prison cell, trying desperately not to cry as a result of the pure parallelism which is present here – the situation an almost dead-ringer for their first traumatic experience together – is all-consuming. This guilt is so potent, running through his system so poignantly, that Eugene accepts the fact that he's going to be running off minimal sleep, adrenaline, and inescapable shame until he sees her face again.
Maybe Eugene was always meant to be back here, in a prison cell, punished by the universe for all of his wrongdoings. Maybe his destiny was not to be the one who saved her, but to be the one who let her down, time and time again.
Maybe he was destined to be the man who loved – the man who lost – the girl who always went missing.
When Eugene finally does drift into an uneasy, anxious sleep, he dreams about her. He dreams about her before waking in a cold sweat, only to realize that she isn't there in his arms, and might never be again.
AN: I hope this chapter was worth the several-week wait! To everyone who absolutely hates Charles right now: I'm sorry. Really! Look, I hate his guts, and he's my own, original character! Typically, I would be very territorial over my own characters, but Charles honestly deserves a frying pan to the face. You know it, I know it.
But Rapunzel getting kidnapped by Charles was my plan for this story from the very beginning. Though some familiar faces are present, this story is not meant to parallel the events of the series. Rather, it's meant to eerily parallel the events of the movie: kidnapping, trauma, mental manipulation and all – with the benefit of a matured New Dream relationship to get them through this horrible circumstance.
I already have ideas for a second part to this AU (but who knows if I'll ever get there), in which the continued storyline would be more inspired by the series, but that's not really the intended direction of this particular story. I would love to write something involving Dark Prince Eugene, but… who knows. Right now, this storyline is my main priority. We'll cross the 'part two' bridge when we get there. Wouldn't Dark Prince Eugene somehow worked into this AU be fun, though? That would really show our arrogant Charles! Like, 'Hey… I'm a prince, too! Suck it!' *cackles in Everything I Ever Thought I Knew* Maybe someday.
Regardless, I only hope that you'll trust me through this angst-ridden process of New Dream finding their way back to one another (and I promise that they will. Regardless of the recent promises being 'broken' by the characters in this story, this is a promise which I intend to keep. They won't be apart forever). But, before Eugene can get to his princess… well, I warned you that shit was going to hit the fan, didn't I? My fun with this story has only just begun! Thank you for being here and for following along with my literary indulgences.