Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; they belong to Disney.
Author's Note: Inspired by my friend Ribeiro1986. Princess Flora is her OC, the daughter of Flynn/Eugene and Rapunzel. Just a quick Flora adventure (because since I heard it was your birthday soon I thought I'd gift you a fic now that it's done ;) Hope you like it! While there are some elements of "Tangled: the Series" in this story, this is obviously an AU. And, because my brain prefers Flynn, he's Flynn and not Eugene. Strictly personal preference LOL.
Lantern light flickered on the walls of the Royal Jail, casting dark, ominous shadows up and down the stone corridors. The Palace Guard patrolled the halls, pausing every now and again to rap on the cell doors with their clubs to silence the rabble of prisoners inside.
That was precisely the move that Kurt Stabbington was waiting for. As the guard's club met the bars, Kurt Stabbington, the eldest of the two notorious Stabbington brothers, swiftly reached through the gap and grabbed onto it, pulling the guard into the bars with a harsh thud. The man's helmet clanged off the bars. He slumped to the floor in a daze, and the youngest Stabbington brother seized the opportunity, yanking the man's keys off his belt as he fell. With a grin at his oldest brother, Otto Stabbington unlocked their cell door.
"All those years of planning…goin' off without a hitch, eh?" Otto's crooked teeth glinted in the dim light as he pushed the door open and stepped out into freedom.
"Save it," Kurt warned him. "We're not out of here yet." All those years of planning for one reason, and one reason only.
Fifteen-year-old Princess Flora of Corona lay on her back, staring up at the sky, tracing the constellations with one outstretched hand.
Orion, the Hunter….Taurus, the Bull…Lepus, the Hare…
A faint wind blew in off the bay, and she shivered. Soon, it would be too cold to lay here on the balcony of her bedroom and look at the stars, but for tonight, she would enjoy this moment of peace. Auriga…the Chariot Driver. Canis Major, the-
"Flora!"
Flora jerked in surprise and she propped herself on her elbow as her father, Eugene Fitzherbert, burst through the French doors leading out to the balcony. She frowned, noting the worry in his golden brown eyes and the way his fingers were in a white-knuckle grip on the door handle.
She also didn't miss the frantic tone in his voice as he demanded, "Flora, what are you doing out here?"
"I couldn't sleep, Papa," the teenager told him, moving to a sitting position as gracefully as she could in her robe and nightgown. "I thought looking at the stars might help me relax." Flora looked him up and down. "It appears I'm not the only one. Papa, what's wrong?" she asked him. "You look….you look scared."
Her grandfather, King Frederic, had told her stories of the famed outlaw Flynn Rider, her father, how he was a brave and just man who rescued her mother from a tower many, many years ago. She'd seen his Wanted posters. Flora had always thought the name 'Eugene' didn't suit her father, preferring to imagine her father as the dashing hero Flynn Rider, the one who had saved the lost princess of Corona.
Her mother.
Flora hadn't the chance to meet her mother. Rapunzel, the lost princess of Corona, had passed away during childbirth, and Flora had been raised by her grandparents, King Frederic and Queen Arianna, and her father. Her father, when he told the stories, tended to make her mother the hero, muting his own part in favor of embellishing grand tales of Rapunzel's blonde locks and magical song.
Her grandparents told a similar story. But in their version, it was her dashing, brave father who saved the princess and returned her to the kingdom (though the details of her mother proposing to her father was always the same).
Tonight, however, the man in front of her looked anything but dashing or brave. Worry etched his features, and his voice held an undercurrent of disapproval. "Flora, how many times have we told you it isn't safe out here? Get back in your room now."
"You've never said that." Flora shivered again, this time knowing it had nothing to do with the chill in the air. She crossed her arms and eyed her father.
"I-well, I mean, the castle's old, and this balcony could go at any moment!"
Flora arched one eyebrow, a move she'd seen her father do on more than one occasion. "Mmhmm. Right. What's really going on, Papa?" she questioned him.
Her father, to his credit, tried to keep up the front. "Nothing. Just worried about you, Sunspot," he told her. "When you weren't inside, I got a little scared, that's all."
Flora climbed to her feet. "I was talking to Mama," she informed him. "I'm sorry." She wasn't, but it was what her father wanted to hear.
Flynn faltered. "Oh. Right. I-" He sighed, coming forward to rest his elbows on the rail. "What did the two of you talk about tonight?" he asked his daughter.
Flora came to stand by him, mimicking his posture. "The usual," she said. "The stars. Art. You."
"Me?" Flynn coughed awkwardly. "What do you tell your mother about me?" he questioned.
Flora shrugged. "Nothing I'm sure she doesn't already know," she admitted. "That Max threw you off yesterday while you were out on patrol."
He arched an eyebrow. "I told Max not to say anything!"
"He didn't. But Pascal made a great reenactment."
Flynn sighed. "That lizard is lucky he blends in so well," he threatened good-naturedly. "What other embarrassing things did you tell your mother?"
"That you're a wonderful father, and you're doing a wonderful job raising me on your own," Flora told him quietly. She leaned into her father and he put an arm around her. "And that we love her and we miss her and we think about her every day."
She gave her father a hug, noting that he held on a hair longer than he normally did. He wasn't exactly a touchy-feely man by any means, so that was a little unusual.
Flynn looked at his daughter and shot her one of his patented smiles. "That sounds about right," he said softly. "Come on inside, let's try some warm milk as opposed to the stars tonight, huh?" He ushered Flora in ahead of him, locking the balcony doors behind them.
"Papa, are you sure everything is all right?" Flora asked him. There was an undercurrent of something in his voice, but Flora couldn't place it.
He forced a smile. "It's all good," he promised her. "I need to get back to work, but I'll be here in the morning for breakfast. Sound good?"
Flora nodded. "As long as there's pancakes involved."
Flynn nodded. "With fruit and whipped cream," he agreed. "Sweet dreams, Sunspot."
"Good night, Papa," Flora replied, watching her father leave the room. She heard the tell-tale click of her door lock.
First the balcony, now the bedroom. Papa seems determined to keep me in the room tonight.
She leaned back on her four-poster bed and looked up at the ceiling. Suns and stars were sprayed across the wooden beams in shades of yellow and orange, surrounded by a purple sky. Flora had been told her mother had painted the ceiling while she was pregnant with her.
I love you, Mama. Maybe you could tell Papa not to worry so much about me.
She thought about how Flynn had been acting that evening. I think I'll be doing enough of that on my own.
Flynn slid to the floor just outside his daughter's bedroom door.
"Fifteen years. Fifteen years and I'd practically forgotten about them until now," he whispered, leaning his head against the door.
When word had gotten to him that the Stabbington brothers had escaped from prison, Flynn's heart had dropped to his knees. His first instinct had been to find his daughter. Kurt and Otto were merciless. And he didn't think for a moment that they'd forgotten what he'd done to them the day they'd stolen the princess's tiara from the castle treasury. The Stabbingtons had memories as long as they were ugly.
And they're definitely ugly.
He closed his eyes. Oh, Rapunzel. I'm so sorry I've put our family in danger again. What would you do, Blondie? he wondered. What am I going to do? I wish that you were here. We made a great team together. It's been fifteen years without you, and it still feels like yesterday.
He missed her every day, and their daughter, with her curly brown hair and dark green eyes, reminded him of her every single hour of the day. Flora was just like her mother: beautiful, smart (too smart for her own good some days), creative. She was thriving under Queen Arianna's tutelage.
Maybe I should find them before they find me, Flynn thought to himself, getting to his feet and making his way down the hall. If I could take them by surprise, get the drop on them…
His wife's voice came unbidden to his mind. This is a horrible idea, Eugene. He caught his reflection in a decorative mirror hanging in the passage, and forced a grin.
Most of them usually are, Blondie. But that's never stopped me before…
Flora awoke in the middle of the night, fear clutching at her chest. She sat up in bed, breathing heavily. She was afraid, but didn't know why. On the pillow next to her, Pascal opened one big eye, annoyed with being awakened, but immediately crawled into Flora's lap when he noticed her demeanor. He stuck his head under her fingers and chirped.
"Something's not right, Pascal," Flora whispered. She lit the oil lamp next to her bed and ran to the balcony, looking at Corona down below them. The city was quiet at this time of night. Her constellations had shifted position in the sky, but were still sparkling.
What is it? Flora wondered. What's got me so unnerved?
She went back into her room, rubbing her hands over her arms and perched on the edge of her bed. Pascal was tangled in the hair at the nape of her neck, nudging her reassuringly.
Voices. She heard voices in the hall, and made her way to her , she reached for the knob and turned it, only to be met with resistance. Locked. Then she remembered her father had locked it on his way out.
Something's wrong.
Flora put her ear next to the lock and listened. Two guards were in the hall, just outside her door.
"…ripped the door down…"
"He'll be the first person they go after. He's the reason they were in jail in the first place…."
"….Have you seen him tonight?"
Flora's eyes widened. "Papa," she whispered, stepping back from the door. Pascal jumped off her shoulder and into her palm. "This has something to do with the way he was acting tonight, Pascal, I just know it."
She looked at her door, then at the balcony, and made her decision. "I have to help him, Pascal."
But I need to make a stop first.
Flynn Rider, dressed in his dark blue traveling shirt and pants, walked along the top of the castle's exterior wall just above the helmets of the Royal Guard. Who'd have thought, all those years of sneaking around…like falling off a bicycle. Riding on a bicycle? He frowned as he put one foot in front of the other. Focus, Eugene, or you're gonna be falling off the wall. Carefully, he made his way to where the wall met the forest on the south side of the castle. A large tree had grown right next to the wall, its branches poking over the top. He sat down on the wall, studying it. Beyond the tree, he could see down the hill into the city proper. Most travelers to Corona came directly into the city by ship or, if from the forest, saw the city with the castle perched on the hill. Very few saw this side of the castle, with its trees and overgrown paths that led down into the older part of the city.
Long way down in the dark. He straightened. Nothing I can't handle, he grinned. To his surprise, he realized he'd missed this feeling. That feeling of adrenaline he'd often got in his heyday of thievery. He counted to three to psych himself up, then launched himself off the wall and into the branches of the tree. His fingers scrambled for purchase on a branch and he held on for dear life, only relaxing when he realized he was no longer falling. Then, he was monkeying his way down the tree until his boots landed softly in the grass below. The city lay outstretched below him.
Nailed it.
"Evening, Ryder."
Flynn froze, feeling the jab of a knife in the back of his tunic. He swallowed. "Um. Hey, fellas. Long time, huh?"
"Too long," Kurt Stabbington's low growl replied.
"Right. Ah, so what brings you out tonight? Ah!" Flynn felt the boot to the back of his knee, driving him to the ground. He grimaced. "Hey I get it, it's late," he groaned. "Maybe we wait 'til morning, discuss this over breakfast?"
"The only thing we're discussing," Otto Stabbington hissed in his ear, "is how many pieces you'll be in before the sun comes up. Now get up."
High in the tree above them, Flora watched two big, redheaded brutes haul her father up by his arms and start dragging him down the hill. Carefully, thankful she'd chosen to wear her riding pants instead of a skirt, Flora eased her way down the tree, dropping to the ground and immediately ducking behind the tree, breathing heavily.
Grandmother was right, Flora thought to herself, closing her eyes. Father is a rogue and a scamp with a checkered past…a past that's come back to haunt him tonight.
Looking up, she could see stars filtering through the tree branches above her. Mother, please watch over us both tonight. I will not lose another parent.
Flora poked her head out from behind the tree, and followed after the men, keeping them within earshot, but far enough back that if they looked, she would blend into the darkness. Ahead of them, Flora could make out the lights of a fire in a break in the trees. She hung back, listening to the two bigger men and the horrible things they were promising to do to her father. She felt a pit in her stomach. They're going to kill him if I don't help him.
Otto Stabbington threw Flynn roughly to the dirt, securing his arms behind him and then shoved him so that he was lying face up. Flynn bit the inside of his cheek to mask the pain. "Look, guys. I know we've had our differences," he began, but a glare from Kurt Stabbington shut him up.
"Talk again, and I'll cut out your tongue," he threatened, unsheathing a dagger from his belt. Flynn recognized it as one of the ones issued to the royal guard and wondered who he'd taken it off of…and what shape that guard was in now.
"Fifteen years, Ryder," Kurt said, hauling Flynn up to prop him against a fallen log. "Fifteen years we rotted away in jail."
"You picked the wrong people to trust," Flynn spat, ignoring Kurt's earlier warning. "Never trust a thief," he said. "And don't even get me started on that dark-haired witch of a woman Gothel." Contempt oozed from his tone. "That lady was crazy six ways from Sunday."
"You took the crown from us," Otto said. "And that blonde-haired magic girl."
Flynn glared at the youngest Stabbington. If looks could kill, Otto would've been buried under the nearest tree. "She had a name, brainless," he hissed at him. "And you don't get to say anything about her. And that wasn't me. I seem to recall being unconscious and a little tied up at that time. You have a problem with that transaction, take it up with Gothel." He snorted. "She's currently a pile of bones and dust at the bottom of the tower in the woods. I can show you how to get there, if you want, pay your respects?"
Kurt threw a fist into his stomach. Flynn coughed, slumping sideways and wheezing in pain, but he couldn't resist. "It must burn you to no end that you were outwitted by me. I know you boys never th-thought much of me." He grinned, despite the pain. "Guess this proves I really was the brains of the operation."
Kurt bent down, got right in Flynn's face. "You may have been, Ryder," he agreed. "But me and my brother have had the last 15 years to use our own brains to come up with a fitting punishment." His dagger glinted in the firelight.
Flynn felt Otto yank his head back by his hair, exposing his neck to Kurt. A meaty hand covered his mouth. Desperate, Flynn kicked out, but Kurt merely knelt on his legs, effectively pinning Flynn in place. "Let's start by cutting out that sharp tongue of yours," Kurt said, leaning over him.
Flynn's eyes widened as he struggled in Otto's grip.
There was a crack in the forest, somewhere behind Otto's head. Both brothers froze. "Go," Kurt told his brother, replacing his brother's hand over Flynn's mouth and shoving his knee into his chest, effectively immobilizing him.
Otto stood up, pulling his own knife from his boot, and disappeared into the trees.
Flora had watched the whole exchange with the Stabbingtons and her father in fear. No. I have to…but what can I do…Her fingers closed around a chunk of rock. With all of her might, Flora threw it into the trees, flattening herself against the boulder she was hiding behind as Otto Stabbington came sprinting past her in search of the noise. That takes care of one, she thought. Now what to do about the other… The bigger of the two brutes was still holding her father.
There was a chirp from near her feet, and Flora looked down to see Pascal's eyes poking out from a patch of moss near her boots. He scrambled up her leg and into her upturned palm. "Figures, can't go anywhere without you tagging along," she whispered. "Any ideas?"
Pascal stuck one tiny webbed foot in his other, with a raised eyebrow.
Flora grinned. "Oh all right, we'll do it your way."
Flynn held his tongue as Kurt held his dagger to his throat, scanning the forest for signs of his brother and the strange noises. Mentally, he ran through escape scenarios in his mind. Most of them ended with him missing a limb. Don't know that I see a way outta this one, Blondie. He closed his eyes, thankful his daughter was still at the palace. Hopefully, Flora would forgive him someday for what he'd done tonight.
In fact, maybe I'll just ask her considering she's standing-wait, WHAT?!
There was a resounding thud and Kurt Stabbington dropped to the ground, slumping awkwardly over Flynn so close the two men were nearly kissing. "Yikes!" Flynn scrambled awkwardly out from underneath the bigger man, his eyes resting squarely on the green-eyed young woman holding the frying pan, her eyes wide. He coughed out a laugh. "I see you really have been talking to your mother!" he grinned as Flora bent down and untied his hands. Once free, he threw them around his little girl. "I-are you crazy?!" he barked at her.
Flora raised an eyebrow in a perfect mimic of her father. "I could leave you here, if you prefer," she countered. "How about a thank you?"
"I-" Flynn pulled Flora aside and swung a fist at Otto Stabbington, who had returned to see what the commotion was. His fist connected with the bigger man's face. Otto was smaller than his brother, but that didn't mean he was going down easily. But Flynn had 15 years of pent-up anger and a daughter to protect. Otto swung a short sword at him; Flynn countered with the frying pan, scooping it up on a pass from his daughter. They parried back and forth around the fire in the clearing as Flora and Pascal watched in awe. Finally, Flynn got the upper hand and drove Otto backwards. He tripped over his big brother and went face-first into the dirt.
Flynn grinned and tossed the frying pan with one hand, catching it easily. "Don't bring a sword to a frying pan fight," he winked.
Flora threw her arms around her father. "I was so worried," she breathed into his shirt. "I couldn't sleep, so I woke up and I heard the guards and they-"
"Hey. Sunspot." Flynn ran a hand over her brown hair and tilted her chin so she was looking at him. "I don't know if I should approve of you coming out here after me on your own, but let me tell you, I'm sure glad you did. Your mother would be proud of you."
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Just like I am tonight."
"I'm pretty sure she'd be really mad at us," Flora countered.
"Well, you're probably right about that but," Flynn countered, "she'd be so happy to see what a strong and beautiful young lady you are."
"Really?" Flora's eyes sparkled in the firelight.
Flynn nodded. "Just like your mother," he assured her.
Flora wrapped her arms around him again and he rested his chin on her head.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, Sunspot."
Flora glanced around them at the two unconscious Stabbington brothers. "This isn't exactly the best place for a heartwarming moment," she noted, biting her lip.
Flynn grinned. "Ah. Right. Well. Let's continue this back home, shall we?"
Pascal chirped.