Three months. Three months until she got to hold her baby in her arms. As the day came closer and closer, she could hardly believe it. Her excitement threatened to burst out of her completely and she couldn't wait. A whole was growing in her heart and she knew it could only be filled by her baby's laugh or cry or smile. She needed them now, she wanted to hold them in their arms. But still, she had to wait. Though she hated it, she knew it was physically impossible to make the baby appear faster. She had no choice but to wait.

One way to ease the waiting was to do some of the preparation for the baby. Maybe it was a bit too early to be setting up the nursery, but Rapunzel found so much joy in doing it she couldn't help it. She planned on the baby sleeping in their room for the first few weeks after the birth (after what happened to her….just to be sure), but they would need a room of their own.

Rapunzel looked up at the top part of the room as Eugene busied himself building what was to be their crib. Her feet itched to be up in the rafters, painting a beautiful mural for the baby to look upon when they woke up. But she knew it was too dangerous now that she was pregnant, because though she was careful, their was always a chance of falling.

She could already see it in her mind's eye; a beautiful field of flowers – red poppies, blue violets, the yellow daisies, even the tops of wild onions in beautiful formation of color. The sun and moon split evenly, one side of the mural day, the other night. Stars and clouds, their friends and themselves smiling down at the baby, reminding them of all that loves them. It would be so perfect, she could almost –

"You'll be able to paint it soon sunshine," Eugene said. Rapunzel turned to see him sat on the floor, pieces of the crib sprawled around him. "After the baby is born, you'll be free to walk on the ceiling all you want."

Rapunzel rolled her eyes and moved towards him.

"Having trouble with the crib I see," Rapunzel said. Eugene frowned and looked over the two sheets of paper – the instructions that came with the set, and the translations of what they mean in layman terms that Varian had left before he set off for university.

"How is anyone supposed to understand these things?" Eugene said, tossing down what Rapunzel assumed was one of the legs. Rapunzel rolled her eyes and leaned down to kiss Eugene's cheek.

"We'll figure it out," Rapunzel said. "We have three months to."

Eugene gave a beleaguered smile. "Three months. Feels so far away and so close all at the same time."

"Yeah. I know what you mean." Rapunzel twirled at a strand of her short hair. "I can't wait for them to be here already."

"Right now?" Eugene asked, raising a brow. "They don't have anywhere to sleep."

Rapunzel laughed and pushed his shoulder lightly.

"You know very well what I mean Mister Sassy Pants."

"Mister Sassy Pants?" Eugene asked, rising to stand. "Is that the nickname we're going with now?"

"Maybe," Rapunzel chided. "If you keep being sassy." She put a hand on Eugene's shoulder. "If this baby is even half as sassy as you, I'll be in for trouble."

Eugene grinned and leaned her forehead against hers. "Oh please, you love me."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because you married me," Eugene shrugged his shoulders. Rapunzel laughed once under her breath and reached up to connect their lips softly. Eugene returned the motion, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Rapunzel got lost in the kiss for a moment, finding a sense of peace and calm locked in an embrace with her husband. It had been six years since she had first kissed Eugene, but every time felt like the first, like an intimate moment that could never be broken—

"There you are!"

Or almost couldn't be broken.

Eugene let go of her with a frown and looked over the top of her head, and his grimace seemed to deepen. Rapunzel turned to see who it was that had interrupted them, and found her father-in-law at the door, which now was spread wide open to reveal a smiling Edmund, a disgruntled looking Faith just a few steps behind him.

"I told him to wait –" Faith began, but Rapunzel cut her off with a nod.

"That's quite alright Faith," Rapunzel said. She dismissed her with a slight incline of her head. "We can handle it from here."

Faith took her leave with that, and Edmund charged forward. He wrapped Eugene and Rapunzel in a one-armed hug, and Rapunzel couldn't help but laugh, while Eugene had just a reserved smile.

"There's the happy family!" Edmund said. He finally let them go and looked between the two with enough elation to be almost frightening. He stared at Rapunzel dead on, gripping her shoulder just tight enough to be slightly concerning.

"Tell me, how far along are you?" Edmund asked.

"Six months," Rapunzel said. She put a hand on her stomach and reached for Eugene's hand. "I take it you're very excited for your future grandson or granddaughter."

"Are you kidding?!" Edmund said. "This is the most exciting thing to happen since that dreadful demon tried to destroy us all!" Rapunzel bit her lip, but Edmund didn't seem to notice, instead walking towards where the unbuilt crib sat in its pile.

"Tell me son," Edmund said, pulling Eugene closer to him, "how is the nursery creation coming along?"

Eugene sighed, but Rapunzel could see that glimmer in his eye that told her he wasn't that annoyed at being interrupted.

"It's going alright," Eugene said. "Little trouble with the crib, but otherwise fine." He snuck a glance over to Rapunzel. "I have been a little busy trying to convince sunshine over here that she shouldn't walk on the rafters."

Rapunzel tried his best not to roll her eyes, but she is sure she might have failed.

"Don't lie to your father, you didn't have to convince me of anything," Rapunzel said. There was something in Eugene's eyes that shone when Rapunzel called Edmund his father. Though their beginnings had made rough patches look like smooth sand, they had come out of the other side stronger. Eugene loved his father, that was plain to see, even if it had taken some time to get there.

Rapunzel wondered sometimes if she and Eugene would have a child that loved them like the way they loved their parents. If something would happen to tear them apart. If their would-be baggage that come with that love that made it hard sometimes. Rapunzel loved her father, but there was still a tinge of bitterness and resentment from his actions just after her return. And though Eugene had forgiven his father, Rapunzel knew a bit of resentment was still there.

Rapunzel shook her head. These thoughts weren't productive. Besides, Edmund was here – technically he was a guest at court, and in Corona, that meant a party. Especially when that guest was the grandfather of the future heir of Corona.

"I'll leave you two here for some fatherly bonding," Rapunzel said. "I need to speak with mother." Arianna was, after all, one of the best party planners in Corona.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Edmund said. "I must show you two something!"

"Dark colored carriage with dark horses," Eugene said, staring down the sight in front of them in the courtyard. "Way to stay on theme dad." Before them stood what must have been a carriage from the Dark Kingdom, detailed with images of moons and stars etched into the wood and wine-colored curtains in the window. Two horses with dark manes and fur stood in front of it, seemingly bored. By the door of the carriage stood Adira, almost but not quite as bored as the horses.

"Adira!" Rapunzel said, rushing forward to meet her, but remembering not to hug her. Adira didn't like to be touched. "It's been so long!"

Adira gave an amused smile. "Fishskin, Princess. Always a pleasure to see you two." She nodded down at Rapunzel's protruding stomach. "Congratulations."

Rapunzel knew that was the most emotive Adira would be over the whole thing, and she accepted it with a welcome smile.

"Thank you Adira," Rapunzel said. Adira gave one more nod before leaning against the carriage again, seemingly content to just watch.

"Okay dad," Eugene said. "What is it that you wanted to show us?"

"Oh yes, yes," Edmund said. He opened the door to the carriage and disappeared inside for a few moments. Eugene shared a look with Rapunzel, seeming in between annoyance and confusion, and Rapunzel just gave him a hand on the shoulder as a sign it would be alright.

Edmund returned from inside the carriage, something hidden under his cape.

"Before I show you, I just would like to say that this has been something I have been looking forward to for quite awhile," Edmund said. "Not that I have been waiting for Rapunzel to get pregnant – although I have been waiting for grandchildren, well, not waiting per say, but –"

"Dad, the point."

"Oh, yes, right!"

Edmund pulled aside the cape to reveal a quilt – no, quilt seemed to be too simple a word. It was a patchwork of dozens and dozens of designs. In some patches, their were prominent renderings of bears. Little bears, big bears, bears of varying shades of fur. They sat on fields of colors that ranged from a soft blue of the sea to the dark black of the midnight sky to the fields of poppies in the Northern Lands. Some patches were just flowers, but oh what beautiful flower they were – daisies and lilies and some Rapunzel had never seen before. Others were symbols, things that must have meant something back in the older days of the Dark Kingdom.

Simply put, it was the most beautiful quilt she had ever seen.

"Oh Edmund, it's beautiful," Rapunzel said. Edmund smiled and held it towards Eugene.

"This was supposed to Eugene's by birth. It's passed down by fifteen generations of the Dark Kingdom royal family," Edmund said. "I had attended Eugene to have it, but for his protection, I kept it with me so his identity wouldn't be detected, and he wouldn't become a target."

Rapunzel cut her eyes to Eugene. Eugene reached for the blanket hesitantly. He stopped mid-reach and looked up at his dad, just the beginning pinpricks of tears forming at the bottom of his eyes.

"This – this was supposed to be mine?" Eugene asked. Edmund was mournful as he nodded.

"Yes," Edmund said. "It was made by King Alfred the Seventh and his wife, Queen Katherine Valois. It has been in our family, maintained and loved by every generation since theirs. We're supposed to give it our firstborn children, but since…well, you know, I thought maybe you could give it to your child." Edmund's eyes sparkled. "They are, after all, the future heir apparent of both Corona and the Dark Kingdom."

"Dad, I –" Eugene lunged forward, gripping Edmund tightly into a hug. All at once, Rapunzel felt like she was intruding on something. She was Eugene's family, and he was hers, but their was something exceedingly personal about this exchange that made Rapunzel feel it should best be left to father and son. She smiled and took one step back.

"I'll leave you two alone," Rapunzel said. "Thank you for the gift, Edmund."

Neither Eugene and Edmund responded, and Rapunzel turned to Adira and motioned for the older woman to follow her.

"Come on Adira," Rapunzel said. "Let me show you where you'll be staying while you're here."

Eugene was sure the party welcoming Edmund and Adira into Corona was going in full swing, but for the first time in a long time Eugene didn't feel that much up to parties. He had been his quick foray into the fray – being Prince Consort and son of the honored guest, it was a necessity he must at least make an appearance – and then disappeared into his and Rapunzel's room.

He sat on their bed, legs crossed as the quilt his father had given him in his lap. He traced over the patterns slowly and carefully. The patches seemed mismatched at first, but Edmund had explained to him what they were.

"Each one was added before giving them to their child," Edmund said. "Now, it's your turn to add one."

Most stood as symbols of strength – bears and the moon, things meant to impart that strength onto them. Fields of flowers – for beauty and compassion. Some were just swirling designs of stars – wonder and love and adventure asked to be given to the child. All of that had been wished upon him before he had been swept away into the night and thrust upon the world, even if he hadn't known it at the time.

Eugene kept drawing back to the patch Edmund had said he had added for Eugene. It was a small dot of a bear, staring up at the moon ahead. Edmund had said it had been meant as a symbol of perseverance, to look forward even in the dark of night.

This was supposed to be the very thing he wanted his child wanted to have more than anything. But what did Eugene want for this child the most? Hope? Compassion? Bravery? Intelligence? Each one was great and wonderful but what did Eugene want it to have? When Eugene shut his eyes, what did he imagine would help this child of Rapunzel and his most through life?

And to somehow make that one symbol? One stitch work on the thing counting generations and generations of his family? How could – what would be good enough?

Eugene sighed and looked up at the ceiling of their room. Above their head was one of the most beautiful murals that Rapunzel had ever created. It was their love story looking down upon them – the tower and the lanterns and the road trip of the rocks; all of it staring down at them as reminder of what they had been through and what they could overcome. There was blank space around the mural, where Eugene knew Rapunzel would add more as the years passed.

Rapunzel found this so easy, finding an artistic way to express her feelings. Her creative spirit was one of the things he loved most about her. Right now he was a little envious of it, now that he staring down the belly of this beast. He loved her, and he just wanted to find a way to –

Eugene shot up. That was it, yes, that was what he wanted most for his child.

Love.

He wanted this child to be loved and find love, to be wanted and needed and loved by those around them. That was one thing both Rapunzel and him had been missing for years and years. And now they had it.

And he would make sure this child never had to wonder if they were loved. That they knew their family was here to love them through all the challenges they could face.

Eugene spied Rapunzel's sewing basked in the corner by the desk and he smiled, the starting form of a patch coming together in his mind's eye.