Chapter 15

Queen Marie stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. She stopped a moment in the empty corridor and closed her eyes, drawing deep, even breathes, attempting to gain some measure of calm, of control. She'd left behind a heartbroken Rapunzel who had cried herself to sleep, crying and sobbing incoherently about things Marie didn't understand. She'd stayed with her, holding and consoling her as if she were her own child. She wished she could do more.

When she heard footsteps coming down the hallway, Marie straightened up, wiped away the tears, and hid her emotions. She had to pull herself back together. Breaking down in front of her people wasn't going to fix anything. Because she was going to fix this.

She loved Rapunzel dearly. She had come to consider her as her daughter. She was what she figured Anna Maria would be like.

A voice in the back of her mind whispered, No, that is Anna Maria.

She ignored the voice for now. There were bigger problems now.

The fact that she now knew Rapunzel's husband was in fact Flynn Rider made her head spin. Although, it did account for why she never actually met the amazing Eugene Fitzherbert. Rapunzel had always told her that he was busy or out of town when she'd suggested meeting him. She supposed now that it would have been a bad idea to introduce him to the queen, as the kingdom's most wanted thief and her very own husband.

It was the story there, Marie mused, that she wanted to know. If there was one thing that she had learned as Queen, it was that there was a story behind everything, and things never appeared as they were. This was surely one of those times.

Her intentions were not purely based on curiosity, however. Rapunzel was a dear friend of hers and she despised seeing her in this state. She would do anything to try and fix this, but she didn't exactly know how.

She had gotten nothing from the distraught girl, so she tried the other source.

The guards eyed her at the entrance to the dungeons again. "Your Majesty," they greeted.

She nodded to them in return. "I would like to speak to Flynn Rider."

They shared a look of astonishment. "You-Your Majesty, I –" one began to protest.

She cut him off with a suffering look. "So please let me into his cell. Quickly, gentlemen, I don't have all night."

"Your Highness, I must protest. Rider's a dangerous man – "

"Oh, I hardly think so. The man's a thief, not a murderer. Isn't that correct?" Marie challenged them, not breaking eye contact.

The guards didn't have an answer. After a silent debate, they led the Queen down the hallway, stopping at Rider's cell. Unlocking it, one guard called out gruffly, "Rider, visitor for you. Any tricks, any at all, and you won't make it to your hanging."

The queen stepped into the cell and the guards shut it behind her. They left the door unlocked, but stayed on either side of the door, obviously distrustful of the thief within.

Eugene had jumped up, wide-eyed and astonished at his visitor, before falling into a deep bow. "Y-Your Majesty," he stuttered, wondering why on earth she was visiting him.

The queen smiled. "Please, sit down Mr. Fitzherbert."

Gulping and watching her uncertainly, Eugene waited until the queen herself sat before he sat down opposite her. He was terribly confused. She had called him by his real last name and not his alter ego; it spoke volumes. He just wasn't sure exactly what it meant.

"I've heard many good things about you," she continued, smiling fondly at him. Again, Eugene wasn't sure what to make of it.

He chuckled weakly. "I can't say I've heard that one before."

"Rapunzel speaks highly of you."

His expression immediately turned to one of concern. "Is she alright?"

The queen nodded sadly. "She's sleeping in one of the bedrooms."

Eugene swallowed thickly, staring at his hands. "Thank you for looking after her," he said softly. "And…not just tonight. The money that you give her for the paintings…it helps a lot. For food, and clothes." He gave a soft laugh, lifting his face to once again meet hers. "Despite all the claims, you can't live on love alone."

"It's a shame, isn't it?" Marie quipped. She liked this man. She didn't know if it was his persona, or the honesty dripping from his voice or that the one thing he loved most in the world was her dear Rapunzel. His love for her was written plain across his face. Or perhaps it was all those things. There was several seconds of silence before Marie decided to approach the reason she had come here. "I was hoping you could clear some things up for me, Mr. Fitzherbert. Rapunzel said some curious things, in obvious distress." She paused, wondering how to bring it up. It all sounded so strange in her head, but saying it out loud made it sound even stranger. "She mentioned a tower, her hair, and that you couldn't die…again?" She punctuated this last statement with a raised eyebrow.

She saw Eugene cast his eyes away, and he'd told her all she needed to know it that one movement. It was all true. But the whole story was still untold, and the queen wanted to know.

"Yes," he said softly. "Yes, what she said is true, Your Majesty." He bit his lip nervously and looked back at her, catching soft, welcoming green eyes. Eyes that said she would listen to every word he uttered. "Its…it's a long story," he began hesitantly.

"We have time," she responded gently.

Eugene wasn't sure just what it was that prompted him to begin his story. He supposed it might have had something to do with his impending trip to the gallows hanging over his head. It made certain aspects of his life clearer, and spilling his life story to the queen suddenly seemed mundane and harmless.

He leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands tightly together. "Alright," he began, clearing his throat. "Well, I guess it began the day before the Lantern Festival, almost six years ago. I…um…well, I had just stolen the Lost Princess's crown." Here, Eugene looked up sheepishly. "And I greatly apologize, Your Majesty, but I don't regret doing it one bit. You see; if I had not stolen the crown, I never would have met Rapunzel."

The queen nodded thoughtfully, not overly upset about Eugene's confession. The night that he was arrested, the crown had been returned, unharmed. Over the years, her indignation and horror at the crime had ebbed and she no longer hated the thief for it.

"I was running from the guards," Eugene continued, "when I came across a clearing. And there, smack in the middle, was a tall, tall tower. I thought it was a great place to hide. So, I climbed it…"

And Eugene captivated the queen with his tale of how he found and fell in love with a beautiful girl with seventy feet of blonde hair. A girl who lived in a tower, and all she wanted in life was to see the floating lights that always appeared on her birthday. Eugene admitted that along the way, he'd stopped caring only about the crown, and started to care more for the girl. He told her how she'd healed his hand with her hair – and here the queen was left speechless. Magical hair?

He continued on to tell how the woman Rapunzel had called her mother had manipulated everyone around her, and had made it look as if he had left her, while she took Rapunzel back to her tower so that she could remain young forever.

When Eugene recounted his escape from prison – to rescue the love of his life, no less – the queen's hands were clenched together in her lap with suspense. It was a breathtaking tale of nobility and love and tragedy; and here she sensed that tragedy was about to strike. Eugene's pained expression said it all.

"I got to the tower; Rapunzel tossed her hair down to me. I used it to climb up, but as soon as I stepped in, I saw her there." He stopped, his eyes darting around while his fists clenched. "The old woman had her chained up," he growled. "But before I could do anything, the witch stabbed me." Reflexively, he put his hand to his side, where underneath his clothes, a scar sat. "But I could hear them arguing. Rapunzel was beside herself; she said that if she could heal me, then she would go with Gothel anywhere, without a fuss."

Eugene paused, closing his eyes and breathing hard. It was these moments in his memories that were so hard. He hated remembering them; he hated telling them even more so.

Marie reached across and laid a gentle hand on one of his closed fists.

"When Rapunzel came over to me, she tried to heal me. I didn't want her to. I told her I would rather die than have her live her life a slave. She said she'd rather I lived. But I wasn't going to let her do that. So I did the only thing I could think of…I cut her hair.

"Her hair turned brown and Gothel aged really fast and died. And then…and then I died."

There was silence in the cell for several more minutes. Marie couldn't tear her eyes from Eugene's side, where he still clutched it with his hand. She couldn't imagine the psychological ramifications of such an event. She couldn't imagine what Rapunzel had gone through.

Finally, he continued in a shaking voice, "Rapunzel told me that she continued to sing, but when she cried, a single tear held the rest of her magic, and it brought me back to life." He shuddered a moment. "And…and then we left the tower. Started our lives together. I – I wanted to be a better person," he stressed. "She made me want to be a better person. I no longer wanted that life of crime but sometimes…" his voice trailed off, and he looked away shamefully. "Sometimes we would have starved without money."

The queen nodded in understanding. Everything now made sense. Everything. And she was going to put it right.

"Your Majesty," one of the guards called out from the doors uncomfortably.

"Yes, just one minute," she called back; knowing that the two of them had been talking for too long for their comfort. She turned back to Eugene, who was watching her warily. She grasped his hand in hers. "Eugene," she said, startling him with the use of his first name. "Thank you for telling me all of this. I appreciate it very much." She drew in a breath, debating on how much to reveal to him. But she supposed he deserved to know something. "Do not worry. I am going to make this right, okay?"

His brows wrinkled in confusion. "How can you do that, Your Majesty? I'm on a path to the gallows. I deserve it. How can you change that?"

She stared him in the eyes. "Trust me, please. I think I have something. Just one more question: was your wedding legal? Do you have signed documents?"

Taken by surprise, Eugene sputtered, "Yes, of course, I – what – " But the queen wasn't forthcoming.

With that, she rose and left the dungeons, walking briskly in search of her husband.

The path before her was riddled with obstacles, she knew. It would not be an easy task. But the sight of Eugene Fitzherbert's sorrow-filled eyes, the cries of despair of Rapunzel, and the sweet demeanour of their innocent son, Jacques, spurred her on.