Mooooooore Tangled fic for all you lovely people. Thanks to my reviewers who really give me the drive to keep on writing and updating this.

Flynn Wanted

~3~

In spite of the King and Queen's best efforts, Rapunzel still refuses to wear shoes – indoors or outdoors. Her bare feet sting on the cold lichen-covered floor of the dungeon as she sprints down at breakneck speed, whirling past reams of cells until she finds him at last, skidding to a stop so suddenly her feet almost fly out from underneath her.

"Eugene? Are you okay?" she rushes noisily, throwing herself onto her knees and reaching an arm between the bars for Eugene, who sits dozing against the slimy and moss-covered wall.

She honestly hadn't realised that when the Captain said he knew 'just the safe place' for Eugene, he actually, literally meant the dungeon. It was just a precaution, they told her, but it seemed to be a precaution only the former Flynn Rider had to suffer. She'd tried to stop them, but her father stiffly reminded her she'd made a deal, and where they kept him wasn't part of that arrangement.

Eugene wakes with a start; realising it's her, he crawls up to the front of the cell and takes her flailing hand in his, turning it up to his mouth and pressing his lips against it to feel her warmth.

"Man it's good to see you," he murmurs groggily, dragging her warm palm over his cheek. "Any progress?" Her face falls, and he knows the answer without it needing to be said. "Oh."

A small face pops out of his collar, and Pascal peeks cautiously through the dim light. Once he sees Rapunzel, he pelts down Eugene's arm, straight through the bars, and whirs lovingly against her cheek as she cradles him close. Eugene never thought he'd see the day he was jealous of a chameleon, but feels like he ought check outside for flying pigs with the way things are shaping up. In prison for a crime he didn't even commit, and envious of a smartass lizard.

While he's been trying to sleep in a cold and particularly unwelcoming prison cell, Rapunzel was out trying to convince anyone who'd listen of his innocence. Unfortunately, it hasn't gone all that well; the light has faded from the tiny window high up in his cage, and the cold sinks in unforgivingly. He realises grimly he's going to be spending the night, probably several nights – until either the Judge he supposedly attacked is well enough, or his impersonator strikes again. Neither prospect fills him with much hope.

He spent many of the endless hours trying to work out who would do a thing like this to him, but he surprisingly comes up blank – sure, he had a lot of enemies before he gave up the Flynn Rider jig, but most of them have either been brought to justice and inhabit the cells surrounding him, or they've accepted his change of heart and forgiven him.

"I'm sorry, Eugene," Rapunzel whimpers, and her eyes shine like they're about to tear up. "I tried, I really did."

"Hey, hey," he replies, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "It's okay. You did your best – come on," he pleads when she doesn't smile, and he sees water glisten along her lower lashes. "Seriously, if you start crying then I'm gonna start and then there'll be no stopping us," he jokes, a weak attempt to comfort her, but she laughs weakly, rubs her eyes, and offers him a smile.

He wishes desperately he could hold her; she looks like she needs it just as much as he does. She also needs a rest, because he notices the dark, purplish bags under her eyes, and clicks his tongue with concern.

"Have you slept at all today?" he asks, and she shakes her head. "Well look at you," he sighs. "You're going to drop where you stand at this rate. Go on," he urges, "go to bed. I'll still be here in the morning." He winks at her. "I promise." She shakes her head again.

"No," she says quietly, and although she's so tired her eyelids keep fluttering down and have to be hauled open again, her tone is absolute. He knows there isn't much he can do to change her mind when she's like this, short of prying open the thick iron bars and carrying her to bed himself. "I put you in here," she adds wanly, and tips to lean her forehead against the bars as her eyelids droop again. "I'm not leaving."

Eugene sighs again and wishes he could kiss her, but the bars are just a fraction too thick; instead he runs his fingers through her hair, holds her hand in his as they rest on the grimy floor. Heartfelt as her gesture of solidarity is, even he thinks she should be in bed rather than down here in the cold with him.

"Rapunzel?" he questions, thinking he'll try again before she catches a cold, but she doesn't stir. "Are you... hello? Rapunzel?" He ruffles his fingers in her hair again, and she still doesn't move – for the first time all day she looks relaxed. Pascal peeks out at Eugene, prods Rapunzel in the cheek with his tail, and then makes a snoozing motion. Eugene lets out a chuckle that ends in a sigh, and carefully withdraws his arm, though he keeps their clutched hands together against the cell floor.

"Sweet dreams, princess," he murmurs, touching a finger to his lips, then against her forehead.

"Rapunzel?" a new voice – low and throaty – accompanies footsteps down the hall. As the King strides into view, Eugene makes an exaggerated shushing gesture and points at Rapunzel. "Oh," the King hushes, and moves over with surprising grace and quietness for a man of his stature. He studies his daughter, and notices without comment her hand wrapped tightly inside Eugene's.

"She literally just dropped off," the imprisoned man says quietly. It's been a very long day, particularly for someone who's been awake for at least twenty hours of the last twenty-four, so he'd rather not disturb her.

"I see. I'd try to move her," the King remarks, rubbing his chin with his fingers, "but I might hazard a guess that if she wakes, she's just going to come straight back down here?" Eugene nods – it's true, so there's no sense beating about the bush, and the old King sighs. "You really mean the world to her, don't you?" he asks, and Eugene's eyes lower; he looks almost ashamed as he shrugs.

"I guess I do," he admits. "Not that I deserve it, or anything."

He knows he isn't worth half of what she thinks of him, and he wonders sometimes, in his darker moments, if there are others more worthy than he is for her, that she might suit better. It was pure chance he was the person to find her, to bring her out into the world, and he wonders how big a part that had to play in making her love him. It makes him think – what if it had been someone else? Would she have fallen in love with them instead?

"Well, I'm not sure if I agree with that," the King remarks with a low, rumbling voice, and looks Eugene hard in the eyes. He is silent for a while, his brows knit tightly in thought, and then he finally reaches into his pocket and withdraws a single key, which he presses to the lock of the cell. "If my daughter believes in you this much," he answers the prisoner's stunned look, "then so will I. Come, lets get her to bed."

"...Thank you, Your Highness," Eugene says with all his heart, and considers how he managed to end up with such decent people around him, considering the awful sort of person he used to be.

"Just don't tell my wife," the King jests only half-seriously, and Eugene grins, figuring that the princess had to get a sense of humour from somewhere. He slowly untangles the hand clenched up in his, then passes gratefully through the open door. He steps round and crouches beside Rapunzel, who stirs as soon he pulls away and opens her eyes groggily.

"I'm here," he murmurs comfortingly as she starts to look around, stroking a hand gently through her hair before scooping her up in his arms. She lolls against his chest limply, not even fully awake, and Eugene and the King head away from the dank prison.

"Eugene," Rapunzel mumbles, half-asleep and incoherent. "You're... you..."

"Shh," he hushes. "You kept your promise, blondie, everything's okay. Go back to sleep."

"Ohh... ohhkay," she sighs heavily, and is gone before she's even finished her yawn. Eugene notices the King's eyes on him, and realises what he called her.

"Did I say blondie?" he remarks awkwardly. "Force of habit." The King just raises his eyebrows and smiles. After a while, and carefully, as if he has considered each and every word studiously, the King speaks.

"You know, it is true that my wife and I would not have chosen an..." he begins, and pauses for a second, which Eugene doesn't miss, "ex-thief, to suit our daughter."

At this Eugene flinches, because he's so aware of that fact that it hurts, and that's why he tries so desperately hard to play by all the rules and do the right thing. Because if he wants her, he has to do it in spite of who and what he is.

"However," the King adds before Eugene's mind runs too far into despair, "...we could not ask for someone more devoted. As one man to another," he says, and Eugene remembers that underneath the crown and robes, there is just a man like him. "You've earned her love – enjoy it."

Eugene swallows and can't quite believe the King – the father, the ultimate authority – has just said he might be worthy of her, which he barely thinks himself.

"Your Highness..." he mumbles. "I – I... thanks." He doesn't like how stupid he sounds, but can't seem to find any better phrasing. The King walks beside him with long strides, his hands tucked behind his back.

"Still," the elder man remarks pensively. "This problem of Flynn Rider is not going to disappear." He looks over at Eugene, who understands perfectly the gravity of the situation. The King has miraculously chosen to believe in him and his innocence, but that is on the provision that the real criminal is discovered and brought to justice.

"Of course," he agrees. "I'll do anything I can to help, just say the word." The King nods, then points out the way to Rapunzel's room when Eugene halts at a turning, unsure which way to take her. She doesn't weigh much, but that doesn't mean he fancies carrying her in aimless circles around the palace all night.

When they finally reach the higher echelons of the tower, where the princess's room is tucked away, the King holds opens the door and lets Eugene and the princess inside. Taking her to the bed, Eugene sets her down amongst the rumpled covers, but she stirs again when the warmth of his body leaves hers, and opens her eyes a crack.

"Whuh..." she moans groggily, lifting her eyebrows at Eugene's blurry outline, unable to make sense of what's going on. "Eugene?"

"I'm fine," he murmurs reassuringly. "It's all fine. You get some sleep, huh? I'll see you in the morning."

Rapunzel yawns, nods her consent, and then her eyes close again. Eugene hedges a look at the King, and then decides that it wouldn't matter who was here, because he really can't leave her without a goodnight kiss. He brushes the back of his fingers down her cheek, leans over, and presses his lips against her forehead, hearing a happy sigh before he pulls back upright.

His arms feel painfully empty without her, as he turns to face the King.

"Thank you, Your Highness," he says yet again, and it's only just above grovelling, "for everything."

The King says nothing, but when Eugene walks back to the door – where he stands bolt-upright, effortlessly dwarfing the younger man – he lays a heavy hand on Eugene's shoulder, and gives him an appreciative, understanding smile. Eugene says nothing, but the gesture means more than words can express anyway.

The King walks with him all the way to the Castle exit, making sure that all the guards understand he is letting him go freely, and finally bids Eugene goodbye at the gated doorway onto the streets.

"Get some rest yourself, Fitzherbert," he tells him almost paternally. "I suspect you need it just as much as my daughter does." Eugene guesses his face is enough of a giveaway, and though he dozed in the prison cell it was hardly rewarding sleep. The thought of his soft, welcoming bed back in his rooms, only a few minutes from the castle, gives him the energy to smile.

"I guess so," he says weakly, and then tips down his head in a bow. "Goodbye, Your Highness, and – not to sound like a broken record or anything, but thank–"

"Please," the King interrupts, feeling he's had more than enough gratitude for the day. "Don't mention it. And call me George." Eugene nods, a little too stunned to say anything, and then bows properly, waiting until the King walks away before he does so himself.

The fresh air of the city smells good in contrast to the musty state of the dungeon – Eugene breathes deeply, long sighs of relief, and tips back his head to look at the stars glistening in the dark sky. He doesn't live far from the palace, for obvious reasons, so it's not long before he pushes through his own doorway and laboriously climbs the stairs that lead up to his room.

But settling the key in the lock, he turns it and hears not a reassuring click, but a strangled metallic scrape. He pushes the door, and it swings open freely; the wood where the lock sits is splintered, the groove in the frame ripped clean out.

Eugene glances around the room in a panic – just his luck to be burgled while locked up in a prison for burglary; however, all of his things seem to be there – some are disturbed, knocked onto the floor or thrown about, but when he rushes to a stack of drawers and rips the first open, a bag of gold coins still sits lazily in the corner, untouched from when he set it in there. Slowly he realises nothing worth stealing is missing, and puzzles it as he turns around.

Then he realises something has been added to his room, not taken.

On the wall above his bed – the covers of which are rumpled and stamped with dirt – angry slashes of black ink stand out against the smooth white plaster. The stabs of paint form a single word, a furious scrawl – an accusation. Eugene's eyes widen as he reads the charge.

TRAITOR

To be continued.

Yeah I try not to have loads of cliffhangers, I swear I do.

Well maybe.

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