This is lovely – in England we're having a sudden bout of summery weather even though it's officially autumn. Such wonderful things can only mean not nearly enough work being done, and updates being done instead.
Flynn Wanted
~14~
When Francis wakes, his hands are tied once more, but this time he's bound with normal rope. He's lashed to a stiff, uncomfortable dining chair, and only has to look around for a second before he realises exactly where he is, and the knowledge stomps fear through him. He hears a quiet clink of china behind him, shuffling steps, and Aunt Aya strolls into view, the flickering gas lamps tinting her hair to a bleached gold.
"Francis McCormick," she says austerely, and it doesn't matter if he's ten or twenty – he is in big trouble. "You have a lot of explaining to do."
"It – it was Eugene!" he yells while struggling frantically. "Eugene did it all!" Aunt Aya sighs and crosses her arms and clicks her tongue at him disappointedly.
"No more lies," she tells him. "It's time, Francis. Time to tell the truth."
"I am! Eugene, he-" he insists, but in a flash the woman steps forwards and clips him hard around the ear. He squeals like a child and tries to shield himself, but his hands are tied so there's nothing he can do.
"Let me go!" he wails in a long-suffering tone.
"Will you try to run away?" she demands; his fidgeting provides answer enough. "Well the doors are locked, and Eugene is still here," she says sternly, "so you might as well just not bother. Even if you get out, he'll only bring you back again."
"Oh," the boy bites. "He's here."
"You're dammed right he is," Aya scolds. "He'll be staying until you two have this out and make up."
"What?" Francis bursts. "That's not fair! You can't make me! Eugene, Eugene-"
"Eugene only wants to help," she tells him. "He's a grown man now – he's facing up to his responsibilities. He wants to make amends." She pauses for a heartbeat. "At last."
"Well good for him," Francis sneers, then flinches when Aya moves her hand again, but she doesn't strike him.
"I'm not here to change your mind," she says soothingly, and Francis dares to look up, surprised.
"You're... not?"
"No, pet," she answers with a weak fondness, letting her hand fall to his hair and comb through the tussled mess. "I'm here to convince you listen to what Eugene has to say. Whatever you feel after that is your own business."
"No," he spits like a tantruming child. "You can't make me!"
"Don't be difficult," she snaps, and her voice has the power of a piston; Francis recoils, then crumbles, drooping his head.
"Why should I listen to you... why should I listen to him?" he mumbles sourly, and she lets out a sigh.
"He's family," Aya answers simply. "He's the only family you have." She'd seen enough to know there was slightly more than friendship between the two boys, slightly too large an age gap to be peers. Although Francis hero-worshiped Eugene, in return the idol took care of the boy, almost raised him – albeit not with a great set of morals – always protecting him far beyond rationality dictated. Eugene enjoyed basking in the spotlight Francis gave him, but their loyalty was always a two-way street – he'd taken the blame for Francis's mistakes, got into fights on his behalf, and stole far too many things that curiously ended up amongst Francis's possession over the years. However, Eugene also passed on his streak of stubborness, because Francis just snorts in contempt, denying her truth.
"Eugene cares about you," she tells him patiently, and sees a flicker in the boy's eyes. "Do you think he'd do this if he didn't care?" she points out.
"This doesn't seem much like caring to me," he retorts. "He's just trying to cover his own back, cause they want to pin Flynn's crimes-" he cuts off, realising he's said a little too much, but Aya doesn't seem surprised or even bothered.
"He didn't have to take you here," she points out. "He could leave you to the Kingdom Guards, let you get caught through your own stupid folly – lock you up for what you've done. Why would he bring you to me?"
"So you can punish me," Francis mutters, and she just chuckles.
"Is that so?" she says scathingly. "If we were going to punish you, wouldn't it have happened by now? You're never too old for a spanking, child." She treats him with the same indifferent humour as she's treated most things over the years, borne from a life acclimatised to trouble.
"Then you tell me what he wants, if it's so obvious," Francis spits resentfully, and Aya hushes his temper, ruffles his hair as if he really is no more than ten.
"He's trying to save you, pet. He cares about you – If Eugene had his way, you'd walk a free man out of this house." By now the words start to rust through his defences, and Francis's brow creases.
"What?" he mumbles almost inaudibly. "Really?"
"You ask him now," she dares. "He'd take the fall if you asked – he always has."
"No... no he wouldn't," Francis denies, but he's no longer certain.
"Yes," Aya corrects. "He would."
"But-!" the boy starts furiously. "He can't just- I mean! He's not allowed to-"
"Hush," she interjects. "Keep that temper down, dear – we're doing so well. Now, Eugene knows he's wronged you... if he didn't I'd have made it clear as a bell," she threatens tangentially. "But he does, and that's why he wants to make fix it."
"Well... how... but... why should he?" the captive growls. "He's got it made, hasn't he? Got his pardon, his princess. Eugene has his perfect life all sorted out for him. He can't just go... go all this time without a word, then suddenly stop and change. Like it never meant anything to him. He just... meets some girl and then he... he-"
"You know I can't answer you, Francis," she interjects. "So why not ask him yourself?" This time, she sees him consider the idea. "Just talk to him," she suggests. "If you do, I give my word we'll let you go afterwards."
"You... you – promise?" he asks, and she removes her glasses, shining them with her sleeve.
"I promise, Francis," she says quietly; she has to trust Eugene will put things right, but it's a gamble she's willing to take.
"Okay," he grinds out. "I'll talk – but only to him," he adds, and Aya nods.
"Of course, pet," she says understandingly. "I'll go fetch him now. I'd tell you to sit tight, but you can't really do anything else," she titters privately, and then strolls out the door. No sooner has it shut than Francis starts to struggle and fight like a snared rabbit, rocking so violently he nearly tips straight over on his seat. He gets nowhere – his half-baked escape surmounts to nothing, and a minute or so later the door flies open, but it is Rapunzel who dashes though, not Eugene.
"Francis!" she yelps, running to him urgently. "Are you okay? Are you- did you-"
"Hey," Eugene's voice comes from the back of the room, quiet and assured. "Leave him be."
"But I was just-!" she bursts, turning away.
"What are you doing here?" Francis bites, scowling viciously at Rapunzel, straining away from her when she tries to touch him; like he can't stand that she cares.
"What? But I-" she starts, her voice carrying a shocked hurt, but Eugene crosses the room and holds her shoulder, pulling her back a step as he moves forwards himself. Aya only meant to let him in, but Rapunzel rushed forwards before she could be stopped.
"This is about me and Francis," he says calmly. "Please, go back outside."
"I... you want me to go?" She sounds half-hurt and half-offended, unable to understand why she can't be included – why she must be excluded.
"Just get lost!" snaps Francis. "Can't you get that it's not all about you – you... stuck-up-"
"Shut up, Francis," Eugene interrupts viciously. "You say one more word and I'll give you a whole lot to be sorry about." Francis stops, because doesn't doubt for a second that Eugene is serious, and it burns him up that even now he still defends her over him. When he continues, though, he holds the same hardness with her. "Rapunzel, please go," he restates – it is no longer a request, but a demand, and her face falls; as if summoned, Aunt Aya comes in to investigate.
"Oh my. Sweetie, come with me," she addresses Rapunzel, strolling up and taking the lost princess by the arm, leading her away like a wayward lamb. "The boys need to be alone."
"But!" she protests, and royalty or not, Aya clicks her tongue and scolds the girl like one of her own wards.
"No buts!" she crows, pulling Rapunzel unceremoniously out the door. She herds the distressed girl into the kitchen and soon sets a cup of tea in her hand.
"I don't get it," Rapunzel pleads weakly, fingers wrapped tightly round her cup, feeling the heat pulse through her hands. "I thought I-"
"I know you're involved, pet, but this is between Eugene and Francis," Aya insists. "It's not your place to talk to him."
"Why not?" she asks, and there's no fight to her voice any more, just a wish to understand.
"Those two have a long and... colourful history," explains Aya. "They're more like family than friends, that's why it has to be Eugene to talk to him, and no one else. He's the only one with any right." Although she is like a mother to them, Aunt Aya is a mother to hundreds; it is Eugene alone who has a unique connection to the frustrated, wounded boy in the next room.
"Oh..." Rapunzel murmurs – she's never had that kind of family, so can only imagine what it's like. "I... I get it... kinda."
"There, there. Drink your tea and worry less," She comforts professionally – really she ought to be addressing Rapunzel as 'Your Highness' or at least by her title, but it doesn't seem appropriate and the princess doesn't mind – she likes being treated normally.
"I just... don't know what to do," Rapunzel confesses.. "I feel like there's nothing I can do."
"That's nothing to fret over," Aya replies. "You just let the boys sort it out between themselves." She talks with a serene calmness, like there is nothing in the world that could ruffle her, which Rapunzel watches with a kind of awe.
"But aren't you worried? Francis... he tried to... what if they fight?" she asks, and the silvery woman laughs.
"They both know a great deal better than to brawl in my house," she chuckles. "Francis will cool off and listen to reason in the end. I have faith they'll settle it – they always do."
"... They do?" she echoes curiously.
"Oh yes. You forget I raised these boys, sweetie. No matter how old they get, you're all still kids to me," she says with another melodic laugh, and Rapunzel knows she's being included as one of the children too – maybe because that's what she is, in spite of her trying to play as an adult.
"You know," Aya adds after a minute of pensive silence. "You really ought to go home. It's quite the upset you've caused." She doesn't mention anything directly – like that Rapunzel is the Lost Princess, the darling of the Kingdom, that she's more famous even than Flynn Rider, and the Kingdom has been running mad with news of her disappearance. She doesn't need to.
"Oh," Rapunzel sighs; she knew when she came here that she'd as good as handed herself in, but facing the reality is still hard. "I'm... I...I didn't mean to hurt anyone, I just... wanted to make sure Eugene was safe," she explains pitiably. "I thought I'd be able to, that I'm... old enough to do what I want."
"That's being young, not old," Aya corrects her sagely.
"But Eugene-" she starts, and that's the real issue – but Eugene is an adult, and she wants desperately to catch up, not drag him back.
"Eugene?" Aya questions, and then burst out laughing. "Why, it took him twice as long as anyone to grow up," she hoots, setting down her cup she's so overcome. "In fact, I think you're just about the only thing that did it." Rapunzel looks down with the comment, a little flushed; she finds it hard imagine she had such a dramatic impact on Eugene's life, that she really could be so significant to another person.
"Then why... but I... even though... I just," she laments quietly. "I love Eugene, he says he loves me too, so... so why is it still so confusing? So hard?" Aunt Aya laughs again, in her high-pitched songbird chuckle, and if her smile weren't so reassuring Rapunzel would be even more worried.
"No one in love will ever tell you it's easy, pet," she titters. "Let an old maid tell you that much." It isn't what Rapunzel wants to hear, and she heaves a long, weary sigh, stretching into a yawn. She finds herself half-wishing life were simple again – simple as it was in the tower, without the being captive part. This must be the price for freedom, she thinks – for a real life.
"You need some sleep, sweetie," Aya tells her. "We have some beds to spare. If you're quiet and don't wake the children, I don't mind harbouring a few fugitives for the night."
"I... thanks," she mumbles.
"But you go back tomorrow," she adds with a sure, effortlessly maternal certainty, and Rapunzel nods. "Your poor mother and father."
"Yeah... I hope they'll accept my apology," she says glumly.
"I'm sure they'll just be glad to see you safe," Aya assures her, crossing the room and taking the empty teacup from Rapunzel's hands; she is rinsing it in a sink when Eugene appears at the door, slumped against the doorframe; he looks exhausted and world-weary, but is at least in one piece.
"Eugene!" Rapunzel yelps, moving at the same time, and his arms are full of her at the exact moment he hears her call his name, which is a somewhat disconcerting sensation.
"Uhuhmm," he groans inarticulately, hugging her to him drowsily. "I came... to..." he yawns, and meets Aya's eyes, easily reading the question in them. "Francis is fine," he mumbles, yawning again, his eyes drooping. "He wants to talk to you, Rapunzel," he adds, and gives her a gentle squeeze, enjoying the freedom to touch her without worrying about who will see and judge.
"He does?" she chirps, and he nods groggily.
"Yeah, come on. Then I think we all could use some shut-eye," he adds, and Aya nods wisely at him.
"It's not that late," the princess remarks; the two of them have been up beyond this far too many times to count – or admit in adult company.
"You don't know how early the kids are going to be up, sweetie," Aya comments. "Run along now."
"Mhm," Eugene grunts, and then tugs Rapunzel away; they walk back to the room Francis was in, but when she enters the chair is empty. At first glance she thinks he'ss gone, but she doesn't sense Eugene panicking, and soon spots the boy lounging full-length along a sofa, his feet propped up on the end, his hair blending against the bright cushions.
"Oh, you're here," Francis rushes when Eugene coughs conspicuously, announcing their presence. "Look, Rapunzel," he begins straight away. "I just wanted to... wanted to say I'm sorry." He stares at her with an intense honesty, and although she doesn't claim to be a perfect judge of character, she trusts him unquestionably.
"You are? But... what for?" she asks meekly.
"For... well," he stammers, "Eugene told me a lot of stuff tonight... stuff about you. What you've been through. I'm sorry that you... I'm sorry about... just about everything," he despairs, lost for words. "I hope we can start over."
"Huh? Of course we can!" she answers effortlessly, resentment passing her by; a smile balanced with relief and surprise. She walks to Francis, and then in a shadow of their first meeting, she holds out her hand to him. "Nice to meet you," she says tentatively, and the boy smiles, getting to his feet and shaking her hand, "I'm Rapunzel."
"... Francis," he replies, no trace of anger or unhappiness in his voice, no shadow of resentment in his eyes. "I hope we can be friends."
Quite a positive place to finish up on, but we're heading towards the end of the story, so things will start tying up here and there.
As for what Eugene told Francis... that will have to wait!
I love to hear from readers, so reviews are always appreciated.