Disclaimer: I only own this plot, though I would love to own Tangled.

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Chapter Three

"Was Edith a pretty baby?" Rapunzel asked curiously as she cuddled closer to Eugene.

"I didn't think so at first," Eugene admitted with a chuckle. "But she turned out to be adorable."

Rapunzel smiled at this and curled up tighter, as though she was cold, but the room was far too warm for her to be cold. Smiling a little at this, Eugene gently kissed the top of her head with a chuckle.

"What happened after she came back to the orphanage?" she asked idly, playing with the collar of Eugene's shirt.

"So…I guess you want to hear the whole story of my childhood?" he demanded with a sigh.

"Please?" Rapunzel asked with her most pleading look.

Low blow, Eugene thought with a roll of his eyes. Real low blow. She knew that he couldn't resist her when she gave him that look. Wrapping his arms tighter around her, Eugene sighed again and shook his head. "Of course you do. Well…after that, it was just life as usual. For me at least. Not really for Edith…"

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To say that things were easier for the two children now that they were together would be a horrible mistake. Eugene, however, was quite used to being the most unwanted child in the orphanage, so he could easily shrug off the teasing and taunting from the older children, who had learned from the town gossips all of Eugene's sordid background. Being only four years old, Eugene didn't understand most of what they said, but some of it made all too much sense.

"They say your father's still alive," some of the twelve-year-old boys would sneer. "Alive and rich, but he didn't want you 'cause you're a bastard, and no one wants a bastard."

Eugene wasn't quite sure what the word bastard meant, but he was sure it was a very nasty insult, and he learned to hate it. What he hated even more was the idea that he had a parent somewhere, something that most of the orphans dreamed of, but that parent didn't want him. What was so wrong with him that his own father didn't want him? And if Edith was his sister…Eugene didn't quite know for sure, but didn't that mean they had the same father? Did that mean Edith was a bastard too? He hoped not, because he was sure that a bastard was something nasty, and Edith was too cute to be anything nasty.

Still, Eugene had been listening to the taunting for long enough to know how to handle it. At least…he could handle it when it was directed at him specifically. When the taunts were directed at Edith, however, it was an entirely different story.

There were several groups of children at Mrs. Miller's little orphanage. There were the newborns, the toddlers, the younger children, the bigger children, and the teenagers. The toddlers and younger children—ranging in age from two to six when grouped together—shared the same attic room while the bigger children and teenagers—ages seven to sixteen—were all cramped together in the other attic room. Because of this, the bigger children thought themselves very far above the children in Edith and Eugene's age groups. Apparently, being able to breathe the same air as the teenagers at bedtime made them very important, though Eugene didn't understand how that worked.

So, with such an attitude, it was natural that the older children became bullies very quickly; especially the eight and nine-year-olds. Those were the children who were particularly nasty to Eugene, and he hated them with a passion. Of course, for Mrs. Miller's sake, he never did anything like shout at them or get into fights with the bigger boys. He liked it when Mrs. Miller called him a good boy, and he didn't want that to go away anytime soon. But the moment that the eight- and nine-year-old boys started taunting Edith, all bets were off.

It started about two weeks after Edith came to live at the orphanage permanently. This wasn't unusual. Many of the newborns who lived at the orphanage were only there a part of the time, as they needed wet nurses to feed them regularly. The other children at the orphanage were used to seeing babies leave the small house at the beginning of the day only to return for the night, and then coming to live permanently under Mrs. Miller's roof once they no longer needed to be breast fed. Still, the half-sister of Eugene Fitzherbert was a very different child. Like Eugene, she had a father who didn't want her, and so she instantly became the newest target for the bullies among the orphans.

"See you finally got yourself a sister, Fitzherbert," one of the meaner boys—a sandy-haired nine-year-old named Samson—called with a sneer.

Edith looked up curiously at the new voice, though Eugene did his best to ignore the other boy. Eugene had made an art out of avoiding Samson, and he wasn't about to start acknowledging the older boy's existence now.

"I hear that her mother got thrown out by your father, Fitzherbert," Samson continued, hoping to at least get some reaction out of Eugene. "I hear he called that Sarah Baker a filthy whore, and said any kid of hers would be nothing more than a dirty little bastard."

That did it. Eugene could handle being called a lot of names, but hearing Sarah spoken of that way—even though he couldn't begin to guess what a whore was—and worst of all…hearing Edith dragged into it all, he began seeing red. Standing up suddenly with his tiny hands clenched into fists, Eugene turned to glower at Samson. The older boy only laughed at this show of temper, apparently finding it very laughable that Eugene would even think of facing him. In that moment, there was nothing Eugene wanted more than to wipe that awful smile off of Samson's round face.

No one really knew what happened after that. Some of the children claimed that Samson said something else and then made to hit Eugene; others said that Eugene threw the first punch; still others simply said they didn't care who started it, but Samson got what he damned well deserved. Of course, their choice of words was a little different within earshot of Mrs. Miller, but the sentiment remained.

No matter how it happened, Samson soon found himself on the ground with five-year-old Eugene on top of him, small fists striking every part of Samson's face that Eugene could make contact with. For a moment, the other children were too stunned to do much of anything, and then Edith began to cry because she was confused and could tell that Eugene was going to get in trouble. The sound of Edith's tears seemed to spur the other children into motion, as one of the ten-year-old girls ran into the house to get Mrs. Miller to put a stop to the fight and all the other children began to crowd around the fighting boys.

Samson soon recovered from his shock, but there wasn't much he could do at first, as Eugene's fists kept colliding with his face, over and over, not allowing Samson any room to try and hit back. By the time Mrs. Miller rushed out into the yard, however, the two boys were scuffling together, both trying hard to hit the other while rolling around in the grass. Edith stood behind the growing crowd of children, still crying in confusion, but no one seemed to notice her. Pausing to pick up Edith, Mrs. Miller made her way through the children and reached down to separate the two fighting boys. Eugene's nose was now bleeding, but Samson was in much worse condition with a split lip, a black eye already starting to show, and bruises all over his face. For a long moment, no one said anything as Mrs. Miller tried to make sense of what had happened.

Once the other children who had been close enough to hear told her all that had been said by Samson, Mrs. Miller sent the older boy into the house where she would talk to him later. Samson limped off to the house, looking very much like a dog with its tail between its legs, leaving Eugene to the mercy of Mrs. Miller.

"Now…" Agnes said slowly. "I want everyone else to go and play, or go into the house. I need to have a word with Eugene."

Everyone knew what that meant. "Having a word" with Mrs. Miller had become synonymous with being sent somewhere else. All the other children were very quiet and subdued as they made their way off to different parts of the yard and house; even Edith quieted down, seeming to sense that something wasn't quite right just now. Eugene didn't bother trying to look ashamed of himself, simply sniffling in an attempt to slow his nosebleed as he met Mrs. Miller's gaze calmly.

A part of Agnes Miller wanted to shake the small boy for being so badly behaved, but another part of her was scared to. He looked so much like her own daughter, his mother, that Agnes didn't have the heart to shout at him, let alone shake him. But the defiant light in his eyes…that was something that Eugene had inherited from his father, and that was what frightened Agnes the most. She didn't want her precious little Eugene to grow up anything like his father, the man who had not only broken her daughter's heart, but who was partially responsible for the deaths of both Edith Miller and Sarah Baker. That would just break Agnes' heart beyond repair, and as she met the dark gaze of little Eugene Fitzherbert, she couldn't help herself as she put Edith down and pulled the small boy into a fierce hug, as though hoping that would somehow make him understand all her fears.

It didn't of course. Eugene was confused by the sudden hug, and didn't react at all. When Mrs. Miller finally released him, Eugene stared at her, not with defiance, but pure confusion.

"You awful, wonderful boy," Agnes said through her tears. "You didn't have to hit Samson! All you had to do was come and get me, and I would have sorted him out right away!"

"But…" Eugene said slowly, his brow furrowed with mingled anger and confusion, "he said…he called Sarah a whore and Edith a little bastard!"

Agnes Miller had been surprised many times in her life; the two most obvious moments being when both her daughter and Sarah had come to her with the news that they were carrying the child of Lord Herbert Morris. This, however, was a completely different sort of surprise. The moments when she had faced two crying girls who were pregnant with children unwanted by the father, she had felt sick to her stomach with the shock, but now…Now she only felt a numb surprise that seemed to take far too long to register in her mind. She had heard some of the older children repeating what the town gossips would say about Eugene, of course, but this…Were people really saying such things about poor Sarah and her little baby girl? Looking at Edith, who was now sucking on her thumb and hiccupping as tears continued trailing down her round cheeks, Agnes Miller realized that no matter how precious the child, there would always be someone in the background whispering horrible things about that child. Setting her jaw firmly, Mrs. Miller stood up and turned to face the house.

"Then I will be having a few words with Samson," she said slowly. "Eugene…Go and play with Edith until dinner time."

A part of Eugene was shocked by this. Why wasn't he being punished? After all, he'd gotten into a fight! That was one of the worst things that you could possibly do at the orphanage, as it was one of the most certain ways to get sent away, to people who wouldn't be as kind as Mrs. Miller. Staring after Mrs. Miller with wide eyes, Eugene looked at Edith as though she could explain everything to him. But, of course, Edith couldn't. She couldn't even talk, let alone explain anything to her half-brother. Finally, Eugene simply shrugged his shoulders and took Edith's hand—the one that was not in her mouth—and led her along to another part of the yard, where he liked sitting with his copy of The Tales of Flynnigan Rider and admiring the illustrations without being interrupted.

Sitting down across from where Edith stood, staring at the ground as though unsure what to do with it, Eugene pulled out the book in question and began turning the pages. He knew the story by heart at this point, as Mrs. Miller and Sarah had read it to him so many times, but Edith had never heard it before. That was something that simply had to be dealt with.

"Sit down," he instructed, smiling a little shakily.

Edith blinked twice at him, her hand still stuffed in her mouth.

"Sit down," Eugene repeated, making a motion with his hand. When she still didn't move, Eugene sighed and gently pushed her to sit before returning his attention to the book in his hand. Edith didn't really seem to appreciate how wonderful the book was, but Eugene didn't mind as he lost himself in retelling his favorite story, with some embellishments and changes, of course. None of that icky kissing stuff in his version of the story.

That was where Mrs. Miller found them after she had a few choice words with Samson about his conduct. Eugene was still telling the story—his version, she noticed with a smile—even though Edith had curled up and fallen asleep at his feet. Smiling sadly, Mrs. Miller gently touched Eugene's shoulder to alert him of her presence before bending down to pick up little Edith.

"It's dinner time," she explained when Eugene pouted in protest. "Come along."

They made their way back to the small house, Edith curled up in Mrs. Miller's arms and Eugene holding onto Mrs. Miller's apron, his other hand clutching The Tales of Flynnigan Rider close to his chest. Perhaps, now that Mrs. Miller had spoken to Samson, things would be better.

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"Were they?"

Eugene looked down at Rapunzel's upturned face in mild confusion. "Hmm?" he asked. "Were what?"

"Were things better after Mrs. Miller talked to that awful boy?" she persisted.

Blinking a little, Eugene smiled sadly at Rapunzel and gently kissed her forehead. "A little…at first," he admitted. "But things went back to normal fairly quickly…with everyone avoiding Edith and me like we were sick with the plague." A horrified look crossed Rapunzel's face at this declaration, but Eugene hastily kissed her to reassure her. "It wasn't that bad, I swear," he murmured. "And we did have some good times."