That night, Eugene understood not only the truth about her hair, but why she had never left her tower before. Since he was the first she had confided in, he could empathise with the difficulty she found in doing so; he had never told anyone his story until now either. It was evident that their lives were very different: they had grown up in dissimilar homes, both in appearance and environment, and had developed into two disjointedly broken people, leading diverse lifestyles – if recluses and thieves were even considered as ways of living. Nevertheless, they also shared a mutual understanding of being alone and how, ultimately, that had impacted on the disconsolate individuals they had become.

In that moment of realisation, they stared perceptively into each other's eyes, only seeing this profound connection for the first time.

Eugene Fitzherbert had known many people in his time, but no one knew him as much as Rapunzel willingly did in their short acquaintance. As her round, emerald eyes held his own, his face softened in a way that he had never known.

The tug on his heart brought him back to their reality.

He hastily cleared his throat and rose to his feet. "Well, I should, um…" He put his hands together and turned away distractedly. "I - I – I should… I should get some more firewood." Gesturing to the forest beside them, he made to walk casually away.

"Hey," Rapunzel murmured, and he immediately turned back. "For the record," she continued in her unwavering honesty, "I like Eugene Fitzherbert much better than Flynn Rider."

His heart pulled again. "Well," he said, looking wistfully at his healed palm, "Then you'd be the first." He nodded appreciatively at her. "But thank you."

He continued to admire his hand as he walked away, both bemused and amazed by her impossible gift. Contemplating her acceptance of his true self – a worthless orphan - he curled his fingers inwards and dropped his arm back to his side. If he couldn't even accept Eugene Fitzherbert himself, what value did that give her judgement? Rapunzel was one, insignificant girl in a world shared by countless; her opinion meant nothing when the rest thought otherwise. What's more, he was merely one guy in this world filled with people she had yet to meet; she would undoubtedly think differently of him if given the chance to explore it. Any virtue he did possess had been shut away with his former identity, never to be unearthed.

In his distraction, he became suddenly aware that he had delved unnecessarily far into the forest. The night had engulfed him and he could no longer make out the campfire.

A twig snapped behind him and swivelled sharply around, only to encounter a vast darkness. He took a hesitant step forward, knowing that any attempts to call out to would be futile.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and he squinted at the area to uncover the stalker. Finding merely a rabbit diving into a nearby bush, he chuckled at his paranoia. He remembered how Rapunzel had reacted the same in a similar situation earlier that day - an innocence which he had tried taking advantage of. Guilt washed over him and he pursed his lips together. Although he couldn't fully comprehend his changed behaviour towards such an unusual girl, he knew that he would do his upmost to ensure she had the best day of her life tomorrow. Perhaps then, after he returned her home, he wouldn't feel such regret for reclaiming his satchel, as they had agreed upon, and abandoning her in that tower when it was time to part ways.

Deciding to compress that concern with his many others, he traipsed back the way he had come, almost forgetting to collect more firewood. As he rounded a turn to bring him to the clearing's entrance, his mind wondered back to his hand and the potential ability of the magic that had been cast upon it.

"So," he called out to Rapunzel. "Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" He shuffled over a log in front of him and swung his legs to the other side. "Is there any chance that I'm going to get super strength in my hand? Because I'm not going to lie – that would be stupendous."

His playful tone waned upon finding Rapunzel on her feet, facing the opposite direction, unaware that he had even returned.

"Hey, you alright?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, turning around and waving her hand flippantly. "Sorry, yes, um… just lost in thought, I guess."

The smile she gave lacked its usual sparkle to which he blamed on her tiredness; he shrugged off the niggling feeling telling him otherwise.

"I mean, because here's the thing," he explained, sitting on the grass and dropping the wood beside him. "Superhuman good looks – I've always had them, born with it." He prodded the fire with one of the small logs he had gathered. "But superhuman strength? Can you imagine the possibilities of this? Come on, tell me this isn't just wishful thinking."

"I've only ever had to heal mother and myself," Rapunzel said, sitting on the grass beside him. "Although, living in a tower all my life, my injuries were never serious."

"So, you think there's a chance?"

"Well, the incantation asks to save what has been lost – nothing more."

"Ah well," he muttered as the fire grew bigger. They silently watch the flames lick hungrily at the fresh wood.

"I'm curious," Eugene said, disturbing the graceful movement of the fire. "How did you know you even had this gift? Or know what words you needed to sing?"

She stared reflectively into the flames before giving her response. "Mother told me so, I guess. I've been singing those words nearly every day of my life for as long as I can remember." Hugging her knees to her chest, she continued, "My mother said that there was once a magical flower that grew from a single drop of sunlight which fell from the heavens." She laughed lightly, as if she didn't quite believe the story herself. "She used to sing to it whenever she was wounded or weakened by her years."

"Like a regeneration spell?"

"Yes," murmured Rapunzel, lifting her head up with a sigh. "She said she was alone and was waiting for a time when someone could heal her broken heart – something beyond the power of magic. When she found herself blessed with a child, she knew her prayers had been answered – until she became incredibly sick. Fearing for both her life and the child's, she consumed the entire flower and hoped for the best.

"The magic of the golden flower healed her and a healthy baby girl was born with this golden hair." She became momentarily distant as if the story had elicited an old memory. "Mother discovered that my hair held the magic but when someone had tried to cut it… well, you know the rest."

Eugene had listened in an awed silence; it wasn't the answer he had anticipated. When she had finished speaking, he struggled to find the right words to respond with. The logs continued to burn and crackle and he observed the flames intently as if he would find his answer there.

Following his peripheral vision, he noticed a wet glaze over Rapunzel's eyes that began to spill to the corners when she blinked.

In a wave of spontaneity, he asked, "Have you ever stargazed?"

"All the time," she whispered. "That's how I knew the lanterns weren't stars."

"Tonight's a good night for stargazing," Eugene declared, laying down on his back with a hand behind his head. When Rapunzel didn't move, he rolled his head in her direction and raised his eyes expectantly. "Come on, lie with me." He turned his face back to the sky and smirked. "Before I look stupid."

They lay on opposite sides of the dying fire, scanning every star that scattered the night sky until they had identified all the concrete constellations and also made up some of their own. With her melancholy forgotten, Rapunzel gushed over a collection of stars in the form of a flower, pointing eagerly at how they joined together. Rather than follow where she indicated, Eugene gazed over the embers of the campfire and watched the movements of her animated expression. Her grin filled him with a serene warmth and in her excitement, her eyes seemed to sparkle more than the stars above them.

"Rapunzel," said Eugene gently.

Breaking off from her rapturous ramble, she turned her head to the side, her eyebrows stitched with innocent interest.

"Just for the record, you can count at least one person who isn't here for your hair."

Impassivity washed over her face. "I know, Eugene. You're here for your crown to fulfil your dream."

A burning knot tightened in his chest. "I don't know what my dream is anymore."

Weary and confused, he gazed blindly above. A murky vision plagued his mind: a swashbuckling rogue by the name of Flynnigan Rider – the richest man alive who had fulfilled his dreams and seen the world. The man had everything his heart desired and more. Yet his smile was false and it occurred to Eugene that such a dream wouldn't make his life complete at all. For despite his desired wealth, his dream would also make him the loneliest man alive.

Sitting suddenly upright, he shook the image from his mind, wondering how much time he had spent contemplating.

Curled delicately into herself, Rapunzel slept soundly and peacefully, surrounded by a pool of her hair. Almost instinctively, he crept over to where she lay and layered the golden tresses over her unconscious body, careful not to disturb Pascal who was tucked under her hand. His fingers lingered by her face, causing a mixture of emotions to churn inside his stomach. Pulling his hand hastily away, he returned to his original place and lay his head on a small boulder. Although he tried to leave his mind blank, a single thought remained in his mind as he drifted uneasily to sleep: the notion that perhaps an opinion has some worth if pertaining to a person who matters.