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Rapunzel doesn't wait for Eugene's response to her hopeful declaration. She grabs Hookhand by the wrist and rushes to the nearest palace balcony that overlooks the docks. It involves a dash down the corridor, taking a sharp turn after the statue of Mildar the Magnificent, and scrambling up half a flight of stairs. When they reach the terrace, she releases Hookhand in order to brace herself on the stone railing to give herself the best possible view of the coast.
"Which one is your cousin's?" she asks the breathless barkeep. There are dozens of ships out there, any one of which could be the vessel she's about to sail to her parents' rescue on! There's one painted a very pretty white and another with navy trim and…!
In lieu of a verbal reply, Hookhand gently nudges her in the direction of the far end of the port where a singular and rather lonesome and bedraggled-looking ship is moored. It doesn't look particularly friendly, she notices. She narrows her eyes, trying to make out the shape on the black flag that flutters woefully in the afternoon breeze. "Is that a… skull? There on the flag?"
The gigantic man laughs a bit nervously. "It is. It scares, or, er, what I meant was it helps scare away anyone who would want to attack his ship," he explains.
"I'm sure it works," she replies solemnly and with appreciation for the forethought.
He nods. "Oh it does. No one bothers Bigbeard," he assures her.
Well, with a banner like that flying from the top of the central mast, she expects even mosquitoes would keep away! It's not until she hears another set of footsteps are approaching them that she realizes Eugene had not been following behind them, as she'd assumed he would! Turning away from the view, she frowns thoughtfully at both him and the bundle tucked under his arm. Where had he disappeared to without telling her? What is that ball of cloth? Where had he gotten it? And why is he wearing that Flynn Rider grin on his face?
Hookhand glances from the items Eugene holds out in his hands – a pair of unflattering breeches, a battered tunic, and a potato sack – and then back at Rapunzel before he takes a step back. Almost like he's removing himself from the line of fire…
"I'll go let my cousin know to be expecting company." He ambles past Eugene and claps him none-too-gently on the shoulder. "Good luck, Rider."
Rapunzel raises an eyebrow. Good luck with what?
"Here," he says, thrusting the odd assortment of items toward and giving them a meaningful shake, "you need to put these on."
She blinks slowly. Granted, the clothes she has on now aren't exactly suited to an adventurous voyage, but she has plenty of other dresses and skirts (and even a riding uniform with some very comfortable trousers) that would certainly suffice! With those items at her disposal, why on earth would Eugene possibly want her to wear these frayed, grungy things? She scrunches up her nose.
"Er, thanks, Eugene. But I have plenty of clothes—"
"Not the right ones."
"Be serious! Who would let me on board their ship looking like I crawled out of a cellar?"
"Bigbeard."
She huffs. Crossing her arms, she ignores the pile of dirty laundry and moves to step back into the castle. She can be changed and have her face washed and hair free of debris in five minutes flat—
Eugene steps in her path. "That's not gonna fly, Blondie."
"According to you. I'm sure the captain and I can come to some sort of understanding."
"Maybe you missed the memo, but the people we'll be dealing with don't negotiate." He points to the black flag as evidence of this.
But Rapunzel remembers a rough, roadside tavern full of scary thugs who had turned out to be quite delightful. Really, Eugene ought to have a little more faith!
"Oh c'mon!" he huffs, thrusting the clothing at her insistently (as if that will convince her to take them!). "They're never going to let you on board if they think you're a woman."
Of all the preposterous things! She gapes in disbelief. "Why not?"
"It's bad luck," he answers simply.
Bad luck? She can hardly believe grown men would indulge in such a ridiculous notion! Women are bad luck? Hmph! "Well, I think, considering my life in total, that my luck is generally good." She begins to walk past Eugene and his offering of unappealing apparel.
He shakes his head as if he can't believe she is just going to walk away. With a quick step, he blocks her path to the stairs. "You don't wanna be doin' that, Blondie. Trust me."
"Oh, I think I do." She steps to the side. Again.
He blocks her path. Again. "No, I really think—"
They don't have time to argue! They need to get on that ship! Unfortunately, Rapunzel recognizes the look on Eugene's face. It's the same one he has when he is pouting. Stubborn man! "What you're asking me to do is ridiculous! Give me one good reason why I should humor their superstitions by wearing a sack on my head in public!"
He lifts his gaze from the bundle of ragged clothing and looks deeply into her eyes. "Please, Rapunzel?"
"You know that smolder stuff doesn't work on me." Though, she has to admit, he does look cute when he makes that face. Sometimes. Occasionally.
He must see some sign of weakness in her expression because the smolder intensifies. He leans closer, pouts his lips just so and rumbles in a deep tone, "Don't you trust me?"
"I… I do," he admits a bit helplessly. His voice sends shivers down her spine and the scent of his shaving soap makes her pulse race. The air between them heats, but she tries not to get distracted. "I just don't understand…"
"I know it doesn't make any sense," he croons, leaning forward and brushing his lips against her temple. He murmurs against her skin, "But this is the fastest way to get to your parents. You know I'd love to see you win over that crew, but that would take time your mom and dad may not have…"
She gulps. He's right. And, really, what does it matter if she goes along with this silly idea as long as she gets Momma and Daddy back?
"All right, Eugene," she concedes, accepting the bundle of cloth. She tries not to make a face at the scratchiness of the rough fabric or the strange, slick texture that clearly signals a desperate need for a thorough washing. "I still think it's silly."
"It is," he agrees, grinning now that he's won. Little does he know…
"I'll tell you something else that's silly," she continues on an off-handed tone and she heads for the castle and a place to change. "A certain Mister Fitzherbert who would encourage a certain princess to meet other men."
She pauses and glares briefly at him over her shoulder. "I hope he'll have a good explanation for that when she finally asks him."
He smiles ruefully. "He will. Promise."
Ten minutes later, she is being led by Eugene and Hookhand (who had assured her that, yes, his cousin really is frightened of the idea of a woman on board his ship) down the wharf's most distant and poorly maintained dock.
"Don't worry, Blondie," Eugene whispers, a laugh barely held in check. "You look stunning."
She glowers at him even though he can't see her. There was absolutely nothing "stunning" about her ensemble. Her breeches are too long, the tunic is too baggy. And the potato sack! The rough fabric makes her face itch like crazy!
"Just remember," he continues, "if someone tries to talk to you, gesture wildly and the frog will do the rest."
Before she can respond that yes, she still remembers the instructions he'd given her not five minutes ago, several shouts fill the air.
"Is that Flynn Rider?"
"I thought he settled down with some girl."
"His nose looks different than I imagined."
Rapunzel watches through a well-placed, slightly threadbare patch of hemp sack as a short, skinny man strides up the greyed and sea-salted dock toward the three of them. "These two be yer friends, Orville?"
Beside her, Eugene snorts. "Orville?"
"It's a lot better than Eugene."
Rapunzel doesn't miss the flinch. "Touché," she mutters to Pascal who snickers noisily.
"Orville!" a great, booming voice calls. Rapunzel squints through the weave of the potato sack as great, thudding footsteps shake the dock. Captain Bigbeard, it seems, has arrived. "Be these new swabbies for my deck or the favor you asked for?"
"Er, the favor."
Bigbeard examines first Eugene and then Rapunzel, his tiny, dark eyes narrowed in thought. "That's two favors. Not one."
"Put it on my tab for next month."
The captain gives his cousin a long look. "I'll be expectin' double the number of swabbies," he replies in a warning tone.
"You'll have them! Gambling always picks up after the festival. Lots of debt to work off." With a glance at Rapunzel who is now viciously curious about this swabbie system, he trails off inelegantly, "Er, you know… the usual…"
The captain nods. "Agreed. Now, let's have a look at your favors, then." He pulls a monocle from his jacket pocket and polishes it on the cuff of his lacey shirtsleeve before tucking it beneath his right brow.
"This is them," Hookhand – or rather, Orville – says, gesturing with his gleaming hook.
"I know who ye are, but…" Bigbeard's eyes narrows. "Who be this eyesore o' a scallywag?"
"Oh! This..." Eugene gestures grandly in Rapunzel's direction, "... is my long lost cousin, er, Bartimus. Doesn't talk much. And, trust me, you'll want that potato sack to stay on—"
As per their prearranged script, Hookhand dares to life a corner of the sack, with his hook, duck down and take a peek. And then he leaps back and shudders dramatically. "Uhm…" he says as he lowers the edge of the sack back to Rapunzel's shoulder. "Er… no offense, Bartimus, but you could scare a horse outta his shoes."
"I tried to warn you, Orville," Eugene scolds him gently. He then turns to face the captain. "Poor kid was burned by lizards with poisonous skin. Acidic. Screams like a girl whenever he sees one now."
"Ugh!" Pascal harrumphs on Rapunzel's behalf, clearly offended. Hah! Screams like a girl indeed! Why, Rapunzel remembers a certain incident with a confused mouse, a plate of butter, and a rotted barrel of pickled eels that had had Eugene shrieking quite… effeminately. Perhaps he could do with a reminder?
But not right now, Rapunzel! That's beside the point!
The wind is blowing and waves a lapping on the shore and the silence is stretching… There's no way Bigbeard is going to believe that idiotic story! Eugene has gone too far! Bigbeard will refuse them passage and then—!
"So where ye be headed?" the big man asks.
Rapunzel and Pascal share a wide-eyed look of amazement beneath the sack.
"To Trist," Eugene replies, sounding as if he expects the captain to share his enthusiasm for the destination.
Bigbeard leans in threateningly. The sun reflects off of the man's monocle right into Eugene's face. "And why should I be takin' ye across the way to Trist? There isn't a treasure that I don't be knowing about, is there?"
Eugene shakes his head. "Nope. Just making the trip to collect on an old debt." By the knife's edge quality of his tone, Rapunzel can tell he speaks the truth; he believes what he says. "And when I collect it, I guarantee your reward will be worth it. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal? "
Laughter fills the air. "I like your style, Rider. Welcome aboard the Sea Riot."
For the first time, Rapunzel's stomach rolls unpleasantly as she regards the ship. Hopefully, the name is not an apt description of a typical voyage aboard!
As Bigbeard orders his men to make the ship ready to sail, Eugene guides her up the ramp and onto the grimy deck. "Like I said, Blondie, piece of cake."