Suitors of Rapunzel

by MiraNova23

(What if we ripped the communication out of New Dream?) It's been 11 months since Eugene returned Rapunzel safely to her true parents. She claimed her title as the Lost Princess. He refused his reward. Now he works odd jobs around the castle, while she must reluctantly choose a Prince to marry from the multitude of suitors. Mutual "unrequited" pining. Movie-verse. AAANGST! - ACTIVE

1. Ch1: Day 303

A/N: I actually started this way back in 2015, shortly after I started Broken Dreams, because I wanted a side WIP where I could play with: What if the exact opposite happened? ...and somehow I ended up likening everything to Suitors of Penelope.

Edited as of: March 23, 2022 to reflect corrections, additions, and general changes since publishing Ch9.

---

Suitors of Rapunzel

Ch1 □ Day 303 ⌧

playlist on YouTube as SoR - Ch1 - Day 303

---

"That's a... nice uniform."

Eugene's hand slipped; the screwdriver lost its mark and skidded across his opposite palm. But that was not why his neck stiffened and an icy fear shivered down his spine, that froze his entire body. His eyes went wide in recognition, still crouched and bracing the one-by-four wooden piece to the wagon leg with his now injured hand, screwdriver sitting idly in the other. The voice behind him was not the milkmaid. No, to this voice he was required by law to direct his full respect and attention. Respect and attention would not have been such issues, except in the context he was supposed to give them to this person in particular. No. Although, if she was alone, he could get away with a little less respect, and a little more attention. Or even treat her exactly as he felt she treated him. No, he had to chastise himself, knowing full well that if he did answer snidely, or even without facing her, that he would only feel worse. Pushing her away was the last thing he really wanted to do, even if she had played with him like a yo-yo. Besides, the milkmaid should be around any moment, anyway.

He tossed his passive aggression away with the screwdriver, which clunked amidst its larger and smaller brothers lying scattered on the hard dirt. He stood, turned and immediately went into a bow; all the while his eyes stayed trained on the ground. "Your Royal Highness." He struggled to not let her unabashed ogling of him trap his own eyes. At least she was indeed alone.

Rapunzel smiled uneasily. "What are you doing?" She clasped her hands behind her back and sauntered over to the pile of tools and wood.

Ah. Her innocent curiosity. Finally, maybe she'll be nice. It had been a while. "Fixing this wagon leg," he answered as mechanically as he could. His eyes followed the hem of her skirts as they sashayed with her, around to the side of him.

"Oh..." Her eyes lit up with understanding as she looked around, appearing to study its construction and his mending. But her focus was really elsewhere. He looked the same as he seemed to everyday, though she supposed he had changed so much when compared to 11 months ago when she had first met him. The jacket he currently wore did not do him justice at all; his toned arms were completely hidden. She tried to avoid him most of the time now, but sometimes felt she just could not fight it anymore and had to search him out. This was the closest she had dared come in a while, though. How drastically the world had somehow shifted, just less than a year ago.

He had burst into her life just in time for her to rope him into taking her to see the lanterns. After much adventure, and some calamity, the climax saw them squaring off with the witch Gothel, where her freedom and his life hung in the balance. They each sacrificed for the other, out of their newfound dreams. In the end, Gothel was defeated and both were saved. Rapunzel shared her discovery of the truth of her origin with Eugene, and he insisted she return to her family, consequences be damned.

What did end up happening to him was a middle-of-the-road solution. While he had sincerely doubted his hope for a perfect-dream fairy-tale happy-ending of marrying the princess he had helped save, he was not even entirely sure that her father -the King- would not still have him executed or at least banished. The King had luckily had at least a reasonable enough reaction to the couple's story. As a reward, Eugene's slate was wiped clean, and he was offered a title of Lord, a parcel of land, resources enough to build a small keep, and an enormous amount of gold. He had refused most of this. His name was indeed fully cleared, and he had accepted some gold, but instead of the other honors, he had requested the guarantee of a job on castle grounds.

The full gold amount would have been enough to buy his own island, nevermind a spot in the feudal system. Needless to say, he no longer wanted these things. He did not even want to be tempted with running from the love he could instead work near, though not entirely have. Deep down, he had always known that an island, or castle, to live alone on, or in, would mean undeniably depressing loneliness. Turning to that because of depressing loneliness would be even worse. Besides, he had given up on that daydream because he fell in love with her- why on Earth should he be rewarded with getting his misguided wants after all, for having done the right thing?

So here they stood. The Crown Princess of Corona, and, well, today, a stable hand.

Rapunzel eyed up the long sleeved jacket with a tight collar, all buttoned up with knobby little copper buttons. The trousers were the same length and style as his usual ones, only grey, still tucked into riding boots, without the fancy spats. The sickly dark yellow of the jacket did not bring out the dirtied lavender accents in it enough to be complementary. Nonetheless, the unfortunate outfit could never detract from his face. His chestnut hair and hazel eyes, chiseled jaw with the same subtle shadow, made this brown motif quite a pleasant display.

But, oh, that jaw was clenched and set hard at her. Those brown eyes had finally fallen prey to hers, with flicks back to her gold earrings every so often, and cried out in silent pain for mercy this morning, even as they dared to claim they still had fight left in them. Well, this might be seen as being merciful, she justified. He looked as prime as ever to her. At 27, in a physical life, his body was indeed at its peak. She knew full well exactly what interest it was of hers that body had begun piquing in her from the start. Whatever he had been doing lately left him unconsciously flexing and stretching sore shoulders- beautiful sore muscles she knew in those shoulders. His spirit, too, seemed tired enough to give in to anything it could grasp onto, the same as hers. This would be easy after all. As easy as getting him to take her to the lanterns, for she knew she still had something he wanted. That is, that she assumed he would want. Afterward, though- she didn't know... She just knew what she needed right now.

"Princess, what are you doing here?" His voice strained with severity; familiarity trying to break through.

She just smiled mischievously. "Is Maximus in here?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes," he said rather sternly. "He's in the back." And what about MY question?

"Can we go see him?" She forced a cutely pouty smile and a glaze over her eyes. It was so much easier when it was not for Gothel.

"'We?'"

She nodded happily.

He sighed as he kicked the pile of tools back towards their box. Fuck. "Sure."

Rapunzel reached down to grab hold of his hand.

Eugene flinched and yanked his hand away. Usually it was just coy looks and doublespeak banter. He could not recall the last time she had successfully touched him. He recovered quickly enough and took her hand, but made a point to glower at her as he held it up high and away from their torsos, as one should when escorting a noble lady- a royal lady. The pomp helped distract a little from how tiny, soft, and smooth, yet paint-stained her fingers were, as always. A little.

She merely giggled. Oh, THIS is going to be a verrry good day!

He wanted to outright scream at her. What does she want with me alone in the back of the stable?! He cleared his throat. "He likes to keep an eye on everyone else." Like ME. And YOU. So you had better… NOT. He bit his lip. He knew how little conviction truly lay under his thoughts.

"What?"

"Maximus. This way he has an excuse to pace up and down the row. Ain't that right, buddy?"

They arrived at his stall. Maximus snorted at Eugene, but whinnied as he nuzzled Rapunzel's cropped hair. Then he snorted at that, too.

"Hey, Maximus!" Rapunzel beamed as she pet his nose. "Oh, nope, I keep telling you, it stops growing once it's cut."

Eugene slouched against the wall, looked away, and played with rolling his tongue around. He was unsure whether he wanted to zone out at talk of her hair, or if he should stay more focused to not let himself re-live cutting it. Maximus snapped him back to attention anyway, with an angry whinny-grunt so close to his face he could smell last night's dinner, let alone his recent breakfast. "Hey!" He immediately shoved his snout away. "Don't insult her hair." He started at himself, though, as soon as he realized he had only said 'her,' not 'the Princess's' or 'Her Highness's.' His tone and demeanor was already falling far too close to the three of them being best friends. He stood up straighter and held his hands behind his back; an attempt to convince his mind he was just another stoic servant.

Max raised an eyebrow, then chomped his teeth at him loudly, almost catching his hair.

Eugene glared fiercely at him. Being reprimanded by a horse for cutting her hair was the last thing he needed bothering him right now. "Doesn't matter what you think. It's done."

Rapunzel, however, was thoroughly enjoying watching the exchange. She held her arms up to her chest as she giggled at them both. She did not even know she needed this, too: humor, laughter, fun. But she still needed something else. She calmed herself. "Um, could I speak with you, alone, for a moment?"

No way he was doing anything with the princess with Max right here. What on Earth is she thinking... No way in hell am I just gonna do anything you ask anymore! "Of course."

The stall they had just passed next to Max's was empty and already cleaned. Rapunzel stepped in, and Eugene stood frozen at the entrance. She stopped and turned when she realized he had. "Well, come on," she goaded.

Eugene cleared his throat again, but obeyed. "Ah, Your Royal Highness, you should really... You really shouldn't..." He stuttered as he realized the fear she struck in him. Fear that opening all this up again would hurt worse than where his heart had already been before she showed up.

She bounced on her bare heels. "Shouldn't what?"

"You- You could get dirty! You shouldn't be here."

She circled back on him, and as he tried to keep them face to face and distanced, he stepped in and turned his back to the stall wall. He realized his mistake too late. She sprang forward- just a step, but enough to make him jump back, pressing his back to the wood. The back of his head bounced off of it, startling him and making his breath jump with his heart. His arms locked straight as his palms tried to grip at the flat wall behind him.

"Shouldn't be here?" She smiled slyly and licked her lips. She drooped her lids and pouted her lips again, staring at his. "Wiiith... you?"

Eugene inhaled sharply. "Princess- please..." he whispered through his dizziness.

"I meant it when I said I liked your uniform." She slowly reached a hand up and out, laying it splayed out on his chest, directly over his heart.

Eugene kept his head level, eyes locked on her forehead, but gulped hard and his jaw quivered. He knew his heart was pounding already, and now it wanted to leap out into her palm. Any more words of protest would not work; they would only come out as whimpers anyway, he knew.

Rapunzel breathed a sigh of relief as she felt his chest thump for her, to rise and fall on catching breath for her. She hoped he still loved her, somewhere in there, but it was the reassurance of his life she definitely relished. Too many nightmares left him dead.

There was also that firmly cut form underneath to think of. "But," she tiptoed her fingers up over the buttons, to the very top one. "I thought," a finger grazed the stubble of this neck, making it flinch again, "You liked wearing your doublets..." She paused as with one hand, she flicked open that top button.

Eugene closed his eyes and began gulping to the sky for air. Ohhh, PLEASE do not come in here right now! I'm not even doing anything! I'm not going to do anything! But oh Babe...

"More like..." She continued with the next button. "This." The third button came undone. Sure enough, it opened down to the center of his chest, about where his doublets usually were when not in uniform. "There." She released him and crossed her arms triumphantly.

He did not even open his eyes, just bit his lip and hung his head. "What do you want from me..."

"I need an escort," she answered cheerily.

His head bolted up to look up at her, confused. "An escort?"

"Mm-hm! I want to go into town, and Daddy said I should have an escort."

"What about your suitors?" he gasped desperately again.

She pursed her lips in a smile. Now green, that's a color that looks good on him! "What about them?"

He sighed. "I've heard about at least three of them this week alone. You know your father said he wanted you married within the year. And-" his voice cracked.

Rapunzel interrupted him. "They're all um, predisposed? At the moment."

Eugene smirked. "It's indisposed."

"Whatever," she grinned as she walked away. 'Disposed of beforehand' is all I meant anyway, however you'd say it. "Come on, get ready. Two horses."

He dumbfoundedly watched her til she left the stable. With a heavy breath, he tried to collect his nerves, bracing for whatever this trip could possibly be about.

Eugene finally made his own way back outside to clean up his tools. But by the time he made it even that far, he was overwhelmed. With clenched fists, he kicked the apple boxes out from under the wagon, that had been jacking it up. They clattered away, leaving the wagon leg to plop back to Earth. The rest of the latticed wood planks creaked, but the newly mended leg now looked the sturdiest part. It did not need his help anymore.

He brought a hand up to run over his face, before noticing it stung. He looked down at his open palm where the screwdriver had grazed it. It was sliced open again. He closed it slowly, and scanned the path back to the castle. She was already gone. But I still need you…

---

Rapunzel returned to her room, deftly avoiding eye contact with every servant, and especially avoiding both parents as they tried to smooth things over with the latest suitor. Pascal had popped out of his food one too many times; which was one time at breakfast this morning.

Underneath her night table, Eugene had fashioned for her a wooden frame that held a small drawer, completely concealed by the table's decorative dropped sides all around. She reached under, unhooked the secret latch that held it in place, and pulled out the repurposed wooden cigar box. She flipped the hinged lid open, and Pascal scampered over to join her.

Inside, were kept the treasures she still felt she could show no one. At least, no one else. The purple cloth flag with yellow patch sun. Dried flowers that had adorned her plait braid. A tiny ceramic unicorn. A charm bracelet, with a single halved charm on it, and more loosely scattered. Several folded papers, most of which had broken wax seals and were folded in thirds, the imprint of script pressing through, and dried salty splotches from second or later readings. One paper, however, was merely folded in fourths, dirty, with tattered edges. This paper she pulled out and opened.

It was the best copy she could find; a very old one. On this one, his nose still did not quite look like his, but it at least looked good. The paper it had been printed on had been meant to stand up to the weather, but she held it ever so delicately. He looked younger in this blockprint; certainly he was more carefree. Rapunzel sighed. She ran her hand over his image, which smiled back at her with that cocky smirk, piercing eyes, and thoughtful brow. It was an expression she never questioned was just for her, despite anything reality told her.

The man she had just left was much more complicated than this simple frozen portrait. Still, she was convinced she could tell that at least part of him still wanted to touch and kiss her in some way, if he could only do so without dreadful repercussions. For now, she left a smooch on the poster.

"I don't know if I'm still your dream, but you're still mine, and I know I was yours. I just hope you can help me get through this, whatever happens."

She sniffled as she felt tears begin to pool. Pascal nudged her knee, and turned teal for her. "Oh, Pascal," she smiled through the tears now wetting her lashes. "Come here." She scooped him up into her open palms, and lifted him up for a kiss, before tilting her head for him. With his tail, he caught a teardrop on the tip, and she began to sing.

Tiny ribbons of light swirled around him briefly, before leaving him with a soft glow. He looked as if he had just been completely re-energized, drank a pot of coffee, and woke up on the best day of his life. He ran in a tight circle, chirping his thanks.

She beamed at him. "You're my best friend… Possibly the only one I still have… I need you to stay strong and healthy, alright?"

Pascal puffed his chest out and happily saluted her. Then he remembered the poster on the floor before them. He jumped down and cheekily pointed at it with his tail, blushing a bright pink.

Her smile faded. "I really don't know about him anymore. But I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me, please. I'll be back, sooner or later. I just think it'll be better if you stay here this time."

He sighed, but nodded.

She pet his head. "You know I'm safe as long as I'm with him." She carefully refolded the poster for the millionth time, replaced everything back in the box, and resecured the box under the table. A few quick dabs with a cool washcloth cleared her face from any evidence of tears. She grabbed a cloak, and fluffed her hair back out with half a frown, looking in her mirror. She glanced at the crown on her vanity. The frown disappeared and her resolve retook its hold.

Whoever I have to marry, there's at least one thing I need from HIM.

---

At a back entrance to the castle, Rapunzel found him waiting with Max and another white horse. She wore a purple dress; all of them were still similar to her old ones she had made herself. She had also donned proper lady's short riding boots. It was a little too warm for the cloak she brought on her arm, however.

Eugene had merely brushed himself off a bit, but left the gross mustard jacket unbuttoned to where she had molested it. A fairly clean white linen was wrapped around his left hand and tied. He hurried to her side. "Your Royal Highness." He bowed again.

Where she usually had a big send off from her parents every time she went anywhere, he noticed that this time she seemed conspicuously alone. He seized the moment, on the chance that maybe she would go easier on him if he gave her a little of what he figured she really wanted: a friend. "Um," he smiled, "You look lovely." Please don't make today hell.

"Hm, thank you," she stared down her nose, but blushed nonetheless.

He nodded. "I figured you'd want Max." He helped her up onto him. "And I've got his new buddy, Samson."

"Oh," Rapunzel eyed the other horse's black mane, noting their differences. "Hello Samson!" Although she was suddenly distracted by Eugene settling into his saddle. His posture was perfect. As if he did not already look dashing enough, he looked to her like he could easily pass as a nobleman himself.

"Princess." He had caught her staring. "Did you tell your parents you were going into town, with me?"

"Mm-hm." She did not look at him though. She was busy examining how Max's mane could possibly be formed into the row of knots along his neck.

"With ME?" he repeated, leaning over, trying to get her attention.

"Yeaaah," she dragged out. She finally looked at him. "You know my parents trust you."

He narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion, but gathered his reigns regardless. "Alriiight," he warned. "Let's go." Maybe he could be friends with her, after all.

She smiled, and goaded Max to start.

Yeah, sure, me and 'The Princess' could be 'just friends.' We could stay up late gossiping, braiding each other's hair, and then I could go slam my dick in a drawer. Sure. He smiled weakly and followed them out.

---

Despite Eugene's continuing questioning and only growing concern, Rapunzel led them straight through town. She seemed to be heading for the bridge.

"Princess," he tried to only show his concern, and not that he was gritting his teeth. "I thought you said you wanted an escort into town." Sure enough, they were at the entrance to the bridge. "So why, if I may ask, are we leaving the town?"

"No, you may not ask," she answered coolly.

Eugene was taken aback. Did she really just pull her rank like that? "Ugh? You can't just-"

Rapunzel abruptly stopped Max, and turned in her saddle to face Eugene. She looked slightly shocked at his backtalk, kicking up a cloud of her own anger. "Did you not refuse the 'King's Ransom' for returning me home safely?"

He blinked blankly at her, not following.

"You gave up having absolutely any status, to just work around the castle! So yes, now you have to do what I tell you." Her voice sounded forced, her posture faltered partway through her rant, and afterward even she looked upset.

Eugene suddenly could not tell endearing from enraging. He could only watch as she started over the bridge. He settled on smirking behind her at least. She had it all wrong. Well, almost. "Ya know," he said quickly under his breath, "Even if I was a Lord I'd have to listen to you."

"What was that?" she snapped.

"Nothing," he called, but muttered with a smirk, "'Dear.'"

The forest lay beyond the bridge. Eugene now assumed the only reason to be heading out this way must be because she wanted to visit their friends at the Snuggly Duckling. And actually, that probably would not be so bad. He could relax and actually enjoy spending some quality 'friend' time together in an easygoing atmosphere. That he would not mind. That had to be why she wanted him specifically to accompany her, and why her parents obviously did not know.

But after a while, he noticed she was mumbling to Max. The disconcerting part was that they both sounded confused. Eugene shook his head and chuckled. "Did Max actually forget the way to the Duckling?"

She raised a brow to him, but refused to look directly at him. "We're not looking for the Duckling."

"Well, what then? A wild herb or something?" She used to talk a lot about her wealth of herbalist knowledge, and he was otherwise coming up at a loss as he scanned his mind of Rapunzel-ology.

"No," she sneered back, then mumbled something else to Max.

Max snorted and shrugged defensively. Then, strangely enough, he jerked his head toward Eugene. She glanced back at him, but rolled her eyes.

"You're obviously looking for something," he called.

She merely groaned at that. For five more minutes, she silently led them around nonsensically, with some circling back.

"Ugh, Rapunzel," Eugene growled. He finally decided to make it clear to her once and for all that had been in no mood for any of this from the start. He sidled up beside her and Max and grabbed his bridle. "Really, enough already. STOP IT."

She stopped Max, but shrank in her saddle.

"Tell me what we're looking for before even I start getting turned around." He remained stern.

Rapunzel sighed and mumbled, "My tower."

Eugene was not sure he had actually heard those words just come out of her mouth. His shock softened his tone to an airy cloud. "What... did you... just say?"

"My tower," she enunciated, but her voice soon fell again. "Sorry, I still mumble a lot, don't I."

"No, no," he smiled sweetly. "I just couldn't believe my ears. I didn't think you'd ever want to go back there..."

She looked up at him sheepishly. "You're the only one who really knows where it is." She shrugged and hung her head. "I can't even remember my way through the forest at all."

He tried to find her eyes. "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it. You've had an overload of new things to remember- lotsa new places, way too many people..." Out here in the serene forest, just the two of them, felt familiar and almost comfortable again. "Rapunzel," he smirked.

She finally met his sympathetic eyes.

"You know, you could have just asked me to take you there in the first place."

She blushed.

Eugene nodded and broke away. He led Samson a few steps ahead of Max. "Come on," he sighed, "It's this way." This is a horrible idea, but… I can't refuse her. I don't even have the heart to…

---

A short while later, they passed through the cave to the small hidden valley. Rapunzel audibly gasped at the sight of the structure rising up before them. Eugene slightly turned his head to watch her reaction out of the corner of his eye.

The castle now dwarfed this single mere 50 foot tower in her eyes now. Still, Rapunzel gazed up in awe at this rare angle of where she had spent the vast majority of her life thus far. The mid-morning light already reached the clearing below, and brightly highlighted the top living quarters. That space had once contained her whole world. Now it looked so tiny.

Eugene continued around to the back of the tower.

"Oh, right," she chuckled. "I almost forgot."

A smirk tugged at his lips, but he did not let her see. At the back, he dismounted, then helped her down, careful to avoid eye contact while still keeping an eye on her. He maintained his aloof air while she teetered between nostalgia and shock. Once she seemed steady enough on her own feet, he released her sides he had held.

"Um, thank you," she finally averted her own gaze.

"Princess," Eugene replied, trying his damnedest not to sneer, as he bowed deeper than usual. When he stood back up, he briskly brushed past her. Everything feels different in this place already.

Rapunzel noticed his moodiness return, but only looked away, back to the tower entrance, disheartened. She pulled her arms up tight to her chest, twiddling her fingers around, hunching her shoulders in on herself.

Eugene busied himself with fiddling with Max's saddle. He swore that she seemed to always find a way of making it shift strangely. Max watched him warily, but allowed the jostling, instead just enjoying some sweet grass. "Aren't you gonna go up?" Eugene called to her.

Her mouth fell open a little. "Aren't you... going to come with me?"

He laughed gruffly. "What, are you scared?"

"N-no," she started, meekly. "I just-" Her attention was diverted to the mini brawl his remark had earned him with Max.

Eugene muttered a few choicer words, then finally shoved Max's snout away as hard as he could. "Alright, FINE!"

Rapunzel shuddered at him.

He noticed, and groaned as he ran a hand through his hair to his neck, trying to calm down. "Ugh, come on. After you," he motioned.

She jumped at the chance to have easy direction. She carefully pushed open the wooden door, and stumbled up the first few steps. When she heard him following her in the tight stone space, regret began swarming her mind. But she pushed on. He'd really be angry if we came all the way out here only to turn back now. At the top, a whole whirlwind of emotions mixed in her as she reached to push the stone tile aside.

Eugene watched as she deftly hoisted herself from the top rung of the ladder out of the passage and onto the floor. With a frown, he actually regretted having her go first. It would have been nice if he had been able to help her up. He sighed with renewed concern. "You okay?" he called up.

"Oh, um, yeah," she called back.

Rapunzel had expected the remnants of their face off with Gothel to spark a mood swing or few, but she was not expecting what she was confronted with instead. Her 69 feet of winding locks were missing, as were the mirror shards that had been left littering the floor. The mirror frame was flipped back to its painted side, standing in the corner. The shackles they had left threaded through the banister were gone. Everything had been swept- and kept up with. In the hearth were fresh ashes, and new firewood beside it. The mantle and shelves had been dusted. The wooden door and curtains were back in place above the mantel, blocking most of where her floating lights mural had been added. Garlic and onions had been plucked from their braids, while other potted herbs and ferns were still growing healthily. The air itself smelled different; not bad like the rot she expected, but like pine and rosemary and cedarwood– not even her usual choice of fragrant flowers and herbs. Her eyes darted from spot to spot of evidence, mouth agape and slowly turning around in horror. This was not how they had left it that day to say the least.

"EUGENE!" she yelled. "Someone's been here!" She took one step backward and turned around toward the exit. In doing so, she walked right into his chest.

Eugene had been standing there, gauging her entire reaction, and did not budge when she collided with him. He stared her straight down. "I'VE been here," he bit sharply. But- oh my God…?! She had just tripped his heart; and what he had⁸ spent so much time keeping clamped shut, spilled out entirely.

Her eyes widened even further in disbelief and confusion, gaping up at him, trying to gauge him, too. "You?" she gasped. What? Why? How? When?!

His brow creased, harshly searching her doe eyes for a moment, but he felt frozen as well. She was only just beginning to lean away from him. Without warning, he looped a hand past her gold earrings, around the back of her neck to stop her retreat. She stiffened against his touch, but fell back one more step as he advanced one. "Just me. But-" His other hand swooped around her waist and pulled, returning her to pressing up against him, as her breath hitched. With the hand on her neck, his thumb firmly directed her face upwards towards his. Eyes stayed locked til they were close enough, then closed. Their noses brushed side by side, but he had stopped their lips just short of touching.

He paused only that one moment, with mind enough only to ensure he savored it. Then, slowly, he moved in. His warm lips, barely parted, carefully closed around the perky edge of her top lip. His bottom lip fell on the crevice between hers. At a timid pace, he ever so slightly pressed against her mouth. His fingers paid close attention at her throat and diaphragm; she was tense, but did not pull away. On the contrary, she leaned into him.

Rapunzel was too surprised to think about anything other than the dizzying, endless abyss her mind was flung into. Just the fainting feel of those lips again, of feeling him, on her lips, after so long- she could not move, and it was not on account of his grip. An electric tingle ran over her entire body. His lips, his hands, his chest, his height, his scent, that scratchy patch between their chins; this was the body she knew.

Then he backed up, not quite all the way, and reopened his mouth, a little wider, to repeat the whole action on her bottom lip. This time, the smallest tip of his tongue gently tasted her before retreating with the tiniest of clicks.

All those lipstick stamps she had left on his old wanted poster melted away right before her as her yearnings were made flesh.

It did not take much to stoke those ignored embers in him, those smoldering desires he always denied anymore. His broken heart wanted to just kiss her as they should: a normal, full French kiss, but more than that want, he feared her reaction. He knew he had to keep it relatively short, lest she start to protest or not understand. She could not think that he was yet another simply preying on her; that all he truly wanted was merely physical; that, alone here, he would try to snatch his advantage over her. No. All he needed was to kiss those sweet, sweet lips that had just spoken one of his favorite words to hear, from those lips in particular. He reluctantly removed his own lips, but his hands remained. Woozy eyes opened to meet again. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "But that's the first time you've said my name since-..." His voice choked on his last shrieking memory of it. He gulped down the rest she already knew.

"Eugene," she breathed again, conscious of it this time, as she offered him a blissful smile with it. It was gladly accepted, and surprisingly mirrored. Her own voice had finally showed her longing pain, too. Her own hands wandered up to rest one on the breast of his jacket, and the other found its way between his collar and its desire.

Under different circumstances, they both would have preferred to allow novice Rapunzel to slowly explore and enjoy full control. Eugene had thought being on the receiving end of such tenderness a tantalizing novelty; his past was already full of him being the one to do the seducing and leading. With Rapunzel, everything had suddenly looked different. But these were not those circumstances. That had all ended 10 months ago. Now, any one touch was like blowing a whole powder keg.

As soon as he felt her disturb the hair at the nape of his neck, he swooned. "Ah, Blondie..." he whispered, his own personal name for her; a sigh of sweetest relief.

Thought left them. Both rushed back in to rejoin, mouths eagerly crashing together this time, their hands needfully grabbing at each other. Everything relaxed back from the edge they had been on all morning. Here, she was not Corona's Legendary Lost Princess and he was not a grounds laborer. Here, he was her heroic roguish lover, and she was his mystical hidden maiden. The tension released from him as moans into her mouth, as he forced his way through her lips and sucked her shy tongue right out, along with a moan of her own.

She whimpered at his confident quickness with her. During that first and only month of secrecy, they had advanced at a snail's pace, and reached only so far. Prude nights only broadened their territory to meandering touches, that crushed them up against that hard line, but never over. A bed shared, but never without at least a bare minimum of dress. Yet even that all ended, shortly after they had assumed the status roles currently plaguing them. Still, neither had kissed like this since, and other than that, well... Despite the barrage of suitors, he would always be her first kiss,and the only one with whom she counted them as true kisses.

His fingers played with her hair, the short ends at her own soft nape- the relic from the hair he was secretly so proud to have freed her from. The fingers of his other hand gripped around her waist as sensually as he had always wished he could when helping her up to or down from her saddle. They took in the delicately textured fabric he usually tried to ignore, and the soft abdomen sighing beneath it. He finally acknowledged just where his thumb rested perfectly beneath her rib, or could rub over it, and pinched her skinny waist. His other hand left her hair to run around and down, pressing over the hills of her shoulder, under her arm down the side of her breast, and heaving chest.

Rapunzel herself swooned, finally feeling his hands on her, squeezing now both of her otherwise ticklish sides. She threw her head back to gasp; her arms reached up to hug his neck, to pull him farther down. The only thing left running through her mind was simply a resounding, Yes!

For once he did not miss her lips leaving him. His simply continued on their way along her jaw, to breathe hot open kisses at her neck and nip at her ear. Blindly, and without letting his mouth ever leave her, he swiftly lifted her up a bit, and spun them around, swinging her feet right over the open hole in the floor. During the short moment he had her higher in the air, he stole a kiss on her chest. With her feet grounded again, he began walking forward, forcing her to step backwards.

She stumbled at first, but he locked their lips again as if to catch her. And she got his idea quickly. She knew this tower inside out with her eyes closed, and apparently he did, too, now. Another little whimper escaped when her butt backed into the edge of the kitchen counter.

Eugene kept leaning his waist into her, while still pulling her sides towards himself, arching her back.

A frightening flash of foreign memory shot through her body.

His knee wriggled at her knees, thinking to spread them apart, but as it rose her skirt up a bit, a similar flash of the same memory shot through his heart. He thought better of it, and instead spread his knees around hers, dipping his height just enough.

His altered height aligned their hips better, and somehow soothed her with just this small adjustment. The comfort surprised her, because she could feel him now. Flaccid still, but she was keenly aware of it twitching and pushing up against her in waves, igniting her own raging carnal fire already growing there. A moan from her own throat snuck up on her as well; she had expected to be more startled. But this was exactly what she wanted, and she had felt him on her leg like this before. It had startled her the first time back then, as had others since, but this was him, and this time was different. I'm not scared anymore, not with you...

A growl from himself would have surprised him, too, but he was too engrossed to realize anything. During one particularly sweet kiss, he brought his arms completely around her, clutching her tight. In the next moment, he heaved her up, to sit on the counter.

It was not a real shock, just another adrenaline rush surging through her. Her head bumped back against the top cabinet, but before she could recover, he had her mouth again, holding her head there, leaning on his arm against the cabinet beside her face as well. Her hands flew in to reciprocate the excitement he had coursing through her. They ran over the smooth then rough of his cheeks, through his hair, and finally, dragged over the angle of his jaw and down his throat.

His pulse throbbed against her fingertips, and vibrated as he moaned again. His own hands reached under her dress skirts and grabbed her calves, just behind the knee, earning a giggle. He pulled her back towards himself, so her dress would ride up, her knees would finally part, she could wrap her legs around him, and just her behind would be sitting at the edge of the counter.

She gasped at the handling, and squeaked at her dress flying up to her thighs. But her grin only grew. Immediately, her fingers began tearing through the buttons on his jacket.

More moans came with each breath, each hot breath on the shell of her ear. His hands held fast on her fleshy hips, and her riding heels dug into his ass, keeping them locked together.

Still connected at the mouth, she pushed at his shoulders, urging him to take the opened jacket off. As soon as she realized he had gotten the hint, she attacked the buttons of his white shirt below that. The poor ugly hated jacket was flung away to the floor. His arms wrapped back around her; one yanking at the back neckline of her dress to find where it was fastened, the other went straight to cupping a breast. She cried out delightfully in release of the tension, and he reflexively mimicked her sound in his own delight at hearing it. She kept at his buttons, hoping it would get him to start on hers and further this ecstasy. But after just half of his chest was revealed, she could no longer wait. Her hands slipped in to grope at his defined pecs and grab around his chiseled sides.

Tongues swirled. Heads whirled. Fingers twirled. Synced were their breathing, movements, pulling, pushing, and noises. Their brows winced, hands squeezed, and mouths sucked as hard as they could. Everything became one - except their minds. They were but desperately trying to bring back what once was...

...til her hand brushed the front of his abs, just below his ribs, on his right.

Eugene flinched – internally, he screamed. She doesn't love me. Suddenly he gasped, pushed away, jumpy and anxious once more. He completely disengaged from her, staggering back. All of him had gladly slipped below the surface to pure bliss, but the return of placing them back into the reality of their timeline had triggered his mantra. She doesn't love me. He stared at her, aghast in horror at how far this had gotten. She doesn't love me!

Rapunzel fell forward a bit, stunned. Her lips had just gone cold. Her hands suddenly held air. Her eyes fluttered open in confusion. She tried to catch her breath, and to figure out what had just gone wrong. She stared back, looking him over, wondering if they were equally disheveled. She was bewildered, but glowing.

Meanwhile, his mouth felt both sour and sweet at the same time. He licked his lips and gulped, a few times, trying to remember where they stood. He glanced down to see how his shirt was half pulled out and half unbuttoned. He picked up the one loose tail of it but let it slide off his hand as he looked away, sighing, gasping, and shook his head at himself. Pathetic... I'm pathetic. She baited me and I went for it. But I know- I KNOW-! Mrrgh! He pursed his lips hard in a frown, ran an angry hand through his hair, and turned a glare onto her. Now she's got dirt on me! Real, current, dirt!

She jumped at his glare. Trying to be calm, she cleared her throat, hopped off the counter, and fixed her skits. "What?" she tried to giggle a little as she said it, trying to sound innocent.

"'What.'" He snorted a dark, humorless chuckle at her. "What do you mean, 'What?' What do ya think?!"

"Weh-" her hands wrung together, then tried to feebly gesture toward him. "I thought that you wanted to..." She trailed off, half embarrassed to say it out loud, and half unsure if he really was thinking as far ahead as she.

He looked up and away from her. "I don't think you have any idea what I want anymore," he said. "If you ever did." She's gone and done it... He looked over his heart scattered around, still raw, with a fresh cut now.

Rapunzel shrunk back at his anger. "Well then what…?"

He sighed, rubbed his eyes, and demanded, "Rapunzel. Why did you have me bring you out here?"

"I wanted to ask if you'd- if you would," she stuttered and twisted her fingers over and over as her volume tapered off and she could only lift her eyes to his boots. "Possibly, have sex with me?"

Eugene's eyes bugged out and he jolted back. "WWWWH-AT?!" he screeched. "You want me ta WHAT?!"

Rapunzel's full attention locked on his wrathful face. "I said-"

"I heard what you said!" he waved it away. "Jesus Christ, Rapunzel. Do you WANT me to be drawn and quartered?!"

"Drawn an- what?"

"What the fuck…" He rubbed his forehead and paced around in a circle.

"Eugene-" She lurched out toward him, but then backed up til her hands held the counter edge behind her again. Her face cringed and turned away, mortified.

His mind was so blown, he advanced toward her, still yelling and even flailing his arms at his sides. "SEX?! Did you really just ask me for sex?!"

"Well, I- I- I mean, I dunno…" She folded and unfolded her hands in front of her, unsure how to answer the simple question. "I wanted to- see…"

"'See' what?!"

"Seeeee… What it was-"

"DON'T you DARE play dumb with ME," he sneered with a finger up at her, closing the distance again, though unpleasantly. "I know you know what sex is. You know damn well what you're asking."

"Well, I mean I do," she confessed, "Yeah, I know like, the definition of what it is. But I wanted to try it with you. And I do know that you've had sex with lots of women you don't love, so, I thought, maybe you wouldn't like, mind?"

Eugene felt her offhand comment like a fresh stab wound to his heart, but he merely stopped pressing the closeness between them and began pacing again. And yelling again, over the screaming of his own thoughts: "And you know what kind of trouble you can get me in! But you don't care," he shot another hand up with his ranting. "Naw, what does that matter? You got plenty of guards. You can get another stable hand. Still gonna have all those suitors waiting for you! But this guy? Naaahhh, throw him away for practice!"

Despite his ranting sending her through a panic attack, he had pinpointed her exact idea. "No!" she yelled back, "I mean, like, yeah, practice, yeah, but- You just said before that I only needed to ask you- and that IS what you've always said!"

"Yeah- ask me to escort you into town, to get your horse ready, even take you back to where you grew up. Not to FUCK you like I'm some idiotic, perverted, pubescent, school boy!"

"What?!" she wailed, offended. One word escaped her knowledge, but the rest made up for his meaning. "What, would you rather I had asked one of my suitors? One of those stupid, jerky, lecherous-"

"Jerky?!" Somehow he took offense to that description.

"I KNOW you've seen me kiss them- You really don't care?!" Her yelling voice faltered with taunting vengeance to reveal she was teetering on the edge between two extremes, and trying to figure out which one he was: Whether he truly did care, or if he truly did not.

"I don't?!" he repeated, again flabbergasted, while pointing to himself. "You think I don't care?! What the hell is that supposed to mean!"

"And, and apparently-!" her voice began cracking and would not stop, "Apparently you have no problem doing just the same as WELL!" she ended in a screech. It was the first time she had said anything about it to him.

Eugene choked on the witty comeback for that, for he did not have one. He could dole out his sharp tongue every bit as well as his soft lips on Rapunzel, but to hear the accusation from her own now? The accusation he had been waiting on pins and needles for all these months since it started? His words crumbled to necrosis and the festering guilt nonetheless burst out, as if she had just lanced an abscess hidden beneath his skin. He kept trying to begin to say something, anything, but just made a few coughing noises as he stood blinking helplessly. Finally, he pulled himself together into a skulking grimace. "BRENNA?!" He kept his voice at top volume. "This is about Brenna?!" You probably didn't even know her NAME.

Rapunzel raised her chin and indignantly glared him down. "Partly."

"You-!" He took a step and pointed at her, accusing her right back. "This is all, what? What? You want me to fuck you, so you can break us up? Why else would YOU care about that!" A wiry smile hooked at the corners of his mouth, and a vengeful glint flickered over his eyes. I've gotchyou now! He leaned towards her, relishing too much in having her cornered.

"I DON'T!" she confidently and angrily yelled back, right into his face. She had learned, long ago, in this very place, how to paradoxically attach emotions to their diametrically opposed words. I don't hate her, but...

He recoiled from her point blank retaliation of screaming in his face. "Bullshit," his normal volume sneered in a relative murmur. "You bring me here," he pointed both index fingers to the floor, "HERE! You ask me to sleep with you, get upset when I tell you no, then you go and actually bring her up, and you still expect me to believe you don't give a single shit that I'm with someone? That I found another beautiful girl I'm properly courting? That I DON'T need your pity – I actually found someone else who COULD actually love me?!" It was a throwaway hope, that any word might cause a twinge of pain in her, as his every word sliced through his own self, desperate to take her down with him. She turned away in a huff, but he pursued, searching for her eyes. "I, too, know that you've seen us. You–"

Well, of course! It's YOU who- urgh! She shook her head and whirled back on him to sneer. "Oh, stop patronizing me!"

"Patroni–" he jumped back again as she advanced on him. "Listen, Your 'Fucking' Highness," he enunciated his curse, trusting her parents to not believe her if she dare tattle, based solely on how his standing with them sometimes even overshadowed hers. Plus, how would she explain what they were currently arguing about? "You just admitted you lured me out here just for sex, clearly expecting me to just mindlessly jump your bones. Who's the one being patronizing?"

She took new affront to this, yet another reversal.

"I apparently only exist to you when you need something from me! And I meant what I said – I think you're just jealous now." His cocky smirk and brows came back out naturally, to protect himself. "You just want what you realize you can't have anymo-"

They began yelling over each other simultaneously...

"OH! Now I'm the jealous one?" she pointed to herself.

"Yes!"

"Only just now, you think-? And like you never 'wanted' me when you've seen me with them?! What about back then? Everyday since, you've regretted throwing me away!"

"You've been jealous 'cause you want what she's gonna get! I'm not jealous 'cause I got my own – That was not- Not why, not when! And throwing you a-what?! Oh, yeah, like it was me throwing you away!"

"No, I know that was after- Ah, but yes it was your doing! What on Earth else did you think you were trying to do? I did not-"

"You think you got to me?! No! -Yeah! Yeah, it was you!"

"No! I didn't! The very next day, you- Ohhh no, you did!"

"The next day?! Yeah, that was after! After you- you..." His words froze there on his own accord.

Her next words hung alone, left swinging in the dead air. "YOU LEFT."

He paused, then snarled deeply and quietly, "I did everything for you."

"You didn't leave for me."

"I still left because of you."

"Exactly."

"Yet I'm the one you go to?"

"'Cause I know you," she rolled her eyes and threw her hand out dismissively.

Eugene's sneer deepened as he shook his head. "No. You don't."

"I bet I know you better than her." Rapunzel crossed her arms and nodded smugly. "Does she even know you were Flynn Rider? That you were the one who found me?"

"Yes?" he answered snidely. "Of course she knows. Everyone knows that."

Her smug faltered. "...oh..."

"And you are jealous- you just compared yourself to her." He laid it out flatly. "You just think you can control everyone around you, want everyone to fawn over how cute and innocent you are, ohhh," he spoke high-pitched sarcastically, "The poor dear locked away all this time, so clueless to the world! But I stop lock-stepping for you and you start trying to destroy my life?" Gnarled feelings twisted around the ideas of each pair of them, and tangled his tone to her once more. He suddenly burst again, "You've gotten to be a spoiled, pampered, little precious princess, thinking you can just play with everyone around you like toys!"

Her eyes continued falling to the ground, til she closed them and shook her head. She hugged her arms and mumbled carefully, "Clearly, you don't know me, either." With that, she spun on her heel, and marched off upstairs to her old bedroom. Her own scorn was so flusteringly infuriated that she did not even think anything of it as she walked past and up that first step, nor did she even notice the circular rug was pulled askew, right up to the banister; it only covered most of the stain.

---

Upstairs, she stumbled right to her bed and flopped down face first on it.

A breath later, she flipped to her back and struggled even harder to hold back tears. The whole bed smells like him…

---

Downstairs, Eugene rubbed the back of his neck and groaned as he paced in small circles. Hands ran over and over his head, down his neck to his shoulders, trying to simply calm down. He looked around, attempting to make sense of anything. He toed the stone tile back into place and scooped up his jacket, but then just stared at it dumbly. Frowning, he looked up to her bedroom. With more groaning and grimacing, he stomped up the stairs.

He pointedly and roughly swished the already-tied-back curtain aside, startling her to sit back up.

She watched as he stared at her, but suddenly felt scared and confused. What…?

Without a word, he turned to the wardrobe, and opened it to reveal it was now full of his clothes. He hung the jacket up, then pulled off his white shirt.

Her heart dropped at seeing so much of his flesh again all at once. Why is he-?

He smirked back at her as he slowly hung the shirt up as well. Then a long, drawn out stretch. Or a few.

She lost control of her breathing, and squeezed her knees together, helpless against another involuntary function.

Bending straight over to reach a bottom drawer, he pulled out a brown peasant shirt. He stood, smoothly threw it on, and held each arm out as rolled up his sleeves. Then he walked right back out, slipping the tie loose to let the curtain hang close.

She deflated. Urggghhh…! Why is this so hard… Everyone else has been so easy, or at least revealed themselves as 'bad' soon enough. She crawled back onto the bed to properly lay down - after frustratingly fixing the pillows from the completely different way he had set them up.

---

That should serve her right. He tried to let his new routines and habits take over for what he should do next. Guess I should... get started on dinner? Gah, but I'm back so early! With more time, however, and another person to cook for – her of all people, he settled on the idea of trying to make something nice for her. Maybe if he treated her like pleasant old times, but platonically, she would react in kind. His jaw set and lips frowning nonetheless, he went to the shelves underneath the curve of the staircase. There he kept her recipe book anymore, and pulled it out to flip through.

He had not used it much himself, but had read through it entirely once. Not that a recipe book was meant for reading, but he read through her notes and scribbles in the margins. The book was originally handwritten in a different person's handwriting, but the bubbly self-deprecating comments were surely Rapunzel's. There was no mistaking the doodles, either.

This was the Rapunzel he had fallen in love with; the one who existed before he even showed up. The girl upstairs was not the same one he had left here with.

He found the one recipe that had especially stuck out. This page was far dirtier than any of the others. Some orange-colored sauce had stained the color of the page wherever it dripped. Bits of food stuck here and there, mostly specks of white and orange mush. The coarse dust was more likely anything from salt, pepper, cumin or turmeric powder, judging from the ingredients. He sincerely hoped that the flaky things stuck in the spine between the two pages were not insect moltings, but shells and skins from – hazelnuts, apparently. But there were no Rapunzel notes on this page.

Hazelnut Soup... He read the title carefully. That part that still reflexively loved without question or reason, that part that would not die or stay buried in his subconscious, much as he try – that annoying part of him committed the title to memory, filed away with all his other inane Rapunzel trivia. The rest of him groaned as he realized he had just done that again.

Locking himself into a rationally objective mode, he scanned the ingredients list. He had plenty of the root vegetables. Nuts and spices kept even longer; they had been here longer than him but should still be fine. Bones that would do for broth? Downstairs and outside in the cellar he had taken it upon himself to excavate before last fall.

That annoying heart, shoulder-angel, whatever, looked on still. Why hasn't SHE ever made this before? Suddenly he startled himself with his intuitive understanding of her. He simply knew she had not made this one before; there were no notes about her trials and errors. But it looked like the most used page. The pages with the most notes, however, were the cleanest. I know her handwriting, so those are definitely her notes, but so why is this one so messy then? He thought a moment… Ah! This recipe must be perfect as-is! Easy for me then!

He had never voiced his observations to anyone other than her parents, that within his first hour of meeting Rapunzel, he had quickly picked up on that she was a perfectionist and soon learned it was because of Gothel's abuse. Gothel, on the other hand, he had discovered in her post-mortem here, was not as much of a perfectionist as she thought herself to be. A simple going-through of her room had revealed this to him. Everything looked neat, organized, and free of clutter – til you opened a bureau drawer or closet or lifted the bed skirt. Rapunzel's room looked likewise organized, but all of the possessions she had collected over her lifetime here and subsequently left behind were the things that were truly organized. He even tried prying up a loose floorboard and the window seat, finding random hidden treasures from throughout her 18 years here.

His hand rubbed his forehead, trying to stop thinking about his over-analyzations of her and concentrate on the damned recipe. He skimmed the directions next, making little humming noises to keep his mind distracted. Ah, mashed! Now THAT I can do great! -but that's after they've already been softened in the oven. Rapunzel's certainly strong enough to do that. But maybe they still came out too lumpy? –no, this has been made lots, with no revisions… Why do I get this feeling – SHUTUP! It's easy, just do it! Stop thinking so much!

His lips twisted in thought before he shook his head again and ran down the ingredients list one more time. Carrots, butternut, parsnips. Carrots, butternut, parsnips. Carrots, butternut, parsnips. He snapped the book shut and left it on the counter. "Rapunzel?" He called up toward her room.

No response.

He huffed a little. "I'll be right back. I'm just going downstairs to check on something."

Still no response.

With pursed lips, he held back a long sigh trying to get out. It only came out through his nose instead.

Downstairs in the cellar, he took stock of all he had. The butternut squash stood out like a sore thumb, and the carrots were fresh, right in front beside the apples. As Samson's favorite treat, he tended to go through carrots as quickly as apples, but there were indeed enough for dinner. "Parsnips, parsnips..." he muttered to himself. "What do those ones even look like? Am I thinking turnips?" Everything he did have he could easily identify, so clearly there were no mysterious parsnips here. With another sigh, he grabbed a small sack for a couple apples and carrots, along with the allotment of carrots and a butternut squash, and headed back up.

The things for dinner he left on the book, but held onto the horse treats. He checked the coins in his pouch, scribbled a note in pencil of 'parsnips, milk,' and then stood in the center of the living room once more, peering up towards the curtain to Rapunzel's room. Finally, he called out again. "Rapunzel?"

Still no response.

With a groan, he climbed the stairs. "Rapunzel?" he called out more softly, right outside the curtain, and knocked gently on the doorway frame this time. Suddenly, an awful idea sprang to mind. 'Why haven't you gone before?' – Did she LEAVE?! In terror, he threw the curtain back – only to reveal Rapunzel's back as she lie above the covers on her bed. Whew, okay... And she appeared to be sleeping, though he knew it was wishful thinking to assume it was peacefully. He tore the excess paper off the list he had written, and wrote against the wall. 'Be right back. Getting things for dinner.' Carefully tiptoeing in his boots, he slipped it onto the night table. He took one more look at her, lying in what he had come to think of as his bed, though he knew it was more truly hers. And as upset as he knew she was, he got the strangely confusing feeling that she belonged there. What, here? No. She belongs in the castle, duh. He just shook his head and quietly left.

---

"Alright, boys, who's up for a little trip?" he asked as he unloaded the apples for Max and carrots for Samson.

Max had been mesmerized by the shiny red apple as soon as it appeared from the sack. Entranced, he unconsciously leaned towards it, mouth falling agape and teeth baring to hone in on his target. But he stopped mid-bite. A trip? He set his features hard and glared Eugene in the face.

"Whoa," Eugene jumped back, accidentally taking Samson's half-nibbled carrot with him. "I'm coming back."

Samson was left to bite down on air as his carrot moved away.

Max merely jerked his head to the side, fully displaying his disbelief.

Eugene sighed, but gave Samson the carrot back, though he turned to address Max. "Yes, Rapunzel's pissed with me. But it's not 'cause of anything I did, alright? It's just, the way things are now. You know that." He held the apple back out in his other hand. "But I wanna make her something special for dinner, and I just need to go get a few things for it." He looked the horse in the eye.

Max conceded and nodded, easily recognizing now when Eugene was indeed innocent and truthful. He took the apple and got a pat on the neck.

"Atta boy." He watched Samson finish the carrots off. "But, actually, Max?" They turned to look at each other again. "Could you stay here? Rapunzel's sleeping upstairs, and I left her a note, but if she wakes up, and freaks out, I think having you here would be better. Alright?"

Max snapped to attention and nodded.

---

Eugene opened the door to the Snuggly Duckling, immediately scanning the mid-day crowd to see who was around. At the bar his attention immediately snapped to a black-haired young woman, those waves secured away from her face with a ribbon. Her light lavender uniform dress stuck out like a sore thumb, but comfortably chatting with Hookhand behind the counter. The most joyous smirk came over him as his entire demeanor brightened up. Well FINALLY this day is looking up! He quietly crept around through the crowd, to come up behind her.

"Ahah!" he yelled as he grabbed her sides from behind.

Brenna's scream quickly morphed into a squeal as his hold instead tickled her, and she realized who her assailant was. "Eugene!"

All grins, he leaned far over her shoulder to envelope her in a hug, still from behind. "Hey!" he laughed warmly, and greeted her with a playfully dramatic smooch on her light golden brown temple. "What are you doing here?" He rocked her back and forth on her stool as he still hugged her dearly.

She chuckled as she hugged his arms back. "Tom said he saw you come out here."

"Oh, uh, well yeah, but I, uh, stopped home first to change." Not a lie! ...just not the whole truth...

She twisted to smirk at him. "So you live out this way?"

"Hah-hah, nice tryyy," he teased, as he released her. He plopped onto the stool beside her.

"Aren't you ever going to let me even know where you live?"

"Nope," he laughed, "'Cause I know you. You'll try to like surprise me there or something." Surprise me by rightfully breaking up with me.

She pouted at him.

He turned to her with a seductive smirk, The natural smolder she called it - NOT NOW. He took her hand and leaned over to kiss her lips properly. "Please don't worry about it."

"Well," she leaned in towards him to rub noses and teased, "Don't expect me to ever move into some 'undisclosed location' with you. I don't think my parents would be too keen on that." Dark brown eyes studied him for his reaction.

As she intended, his smile was falling into a flustered blush. "You… You think your parents would ever want you to move in with me?" They would, but not just- oh my God...

She snickered. "Well, not just that."

He gulped, too thrown by the very idea at the moment. "Well, uhhh, I-" he could only function while giggling right now, "I don't think this is really the place to be talking about, uh, such things, then! What ah… what's your schedule look like this week?"

She giggled at his hard swerve. "Sounds like you don't want to talk about 'such things' at all."

"No!" he frantically countered, "No, no, I- I… I want to talk about it. Just not now obviously. Sometime in the future-"

She gave him a look, though it was teasing.

"Soon!" He grabbed for her arm. "Just- I just need... " More time. To think about it. For a split second, his heart was keenly aware of there being two sets of tracks here, how different they were, and how he could only follow one at a time. It wondered what it would be like on the other set- NO. FOCUS. Then again the other set was long run-down. "Honestly, Honey," he sobered, "I never thought I'd be here. And you know why. I never thought we could ever lead to here…"

She tensed. "Is that a bad thing…"

"No," he smiled gently, taking her hand again and looking deep into her eyes. "That's a very, very good thing. I just never expected it…" He bit his lips, but a tear-jerking smile bubbled up under them.

She smiled sweetly at him, and blushed herself. "I, uh, didn't exactly plan on bringing that up right now, but it is something I've been thinking about."

He smirked. "Alright then. So!" He clapped his hands, then motioned to HookHand. "Lunch on me!" She sprung this whole trip on me and-! Urgh, SHE can wait. "Two chicken breasts and garlic soup for my lovely lady and I," he ordered, then turned back to her, "And you can tell me your schedule this week. So that I can make sure that my work just so happens to line up."

"Ugh," she complained even while she still smiled, "I am going to be so busy this week! Helen's gone, so I'm gonna have to cover for her. Doubles all week."

"Oh nooo," Eugene feigned, then chuckled. "Stuck at the castle all week? Whoever shall you talk to?" She shoved his shoulder, both continuing to make eyes at each other.

While they ate, Brenna had more news. "Heard the Princess got rid of another suitor this morning."

Eugene almost choked on swallowing a chunk of chicken. Fuck. "What? Another one?"

"Yep, I heard it had something to do with the- the uh, lizard thing."

"Chameleon," Eugene mumbled. So that means another meeting early tomorrow morning. Ugh. 'Predisposed,' goddammit Blondie...

"Right," she giggled. "So anyway, what were you coming here for? Just lunch?"

"Sort of," he shrugged, staring into his food. "I was actually just looking to grab some ingredients, though, I," he looked back to her, "Wasn't expecting to find such welcome company here."

"Hmm," she grinned. "And what are you doing after?"

His eyes darted up to the edge of his bowl. Still making dinner... They slowly shifted over to her with an accompanying smirk. "I'm sorry, but I really should get back. I've gotta- ah- I've gotta feed Samson- I wasn't expecting to be staying here. And then I wanted to cook dinner and there's uh, something I need to fix for myself, then work again early tomorrow."

She pouted. "Alright, well I'm glad I caught you now, then."

He smiled at her, "Me too."

She beamed at him. "So what had you been planning on making tonight?"

The thought jolted him a little. "Ah, just some recipe I found. You ever hear of Hazelnut Soup?"

She chuckled. "Yes, but it's quite a lot of work to go through for just yourself!"

"Well if I practice for myself, then I can perfect it by the time I'm making it for you," he smirked.

"Nonsense, your cooking is always perfect."

"Because I practice!"

Later, they embraced by the door. Eugene held her close, reveling in her love for him, soaking her up. "Mmm, love you, Sweetie." They kissed long and deep before he was willing to part. Tough evening ahead. I need you, Babe…

"I love you, too, Eugene," she grinned, stroking his cheek.

Finally, she reluctantly headed back to her horse. "Get home safe!" he called. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you!"

She headed back into town, while he headed back inside to see about those parsnips.

---

He headed straight back to the bar to see Hookhand. "Hey, man, alright, do you know what parsnips are?"

"What?" he threw back, ignoring him as he took care of a few more things. "Hold up a minute," Hookhand gestured to him. Quite a few minutes later, after everyone else at the bar had been completely satisfied, he lumbered back over to Eugene at the end.

He had been waiting patiently, albeit looking bored out of his mind just watching everyone else now. With Brenna gone, he slipped back into realizing what mess he was in the middle of.

"Now what you need?" he pointed with his jaw, sizing him up anew.

"I'm trying to-" he froze and sighed. "Look, it's a long story, but, I'm making this- soup- tonight for dinner and the recipe I'm following calls for parsnips. And I know I don't have any, but I don't know what they are. Are they the like kinda purpley-?"

"Shorty's your man for that stuff," Hookhand answered gruff & curt.

"Huh- Oh, um, okay." Eugene immediately turned to look around for him.

"Hey," he called him back, "How you been?" Hookhand said tenderly and raised his brow with concern. He had seen his entire meal with Brenna, occasionally smiling over whimsically. But he knew there was much more depth there than a cute lunch date.

Eugene smiled weakly as he lost his breath from the impact of even this small kindness and understanding. "I um..." A default smile came upon him. "I don't know, really... I was doing fine, til today… Lunch was much better obviously," he chuckled.

He listened while pouring a mug of beer, which he plopped adamantly down in front of him. "Everything alright with the lady?"

"No," Eugene groaned miserably, then quickly corrected, "I mean yes! Yes, everything's fine, Brenna's uh, we're doin fine, she's great…"

He gave him a look. "You hangin in there?"

Eugene eyed what Hookhand was doing, but obediently took the mug, then stared down into it. "Yeah, yeah just tryin to hang in there," he repeated through gulps of air, before finally retreating to gulping the beer.

He was not convinced. "Whatcha need parsnips for?"

"Uhmmm," Eugene weighed his options for what and how much to tell him. "I'm sorta," he narrowed his eyes, "I'm kind of in the middle of, a… a thing, right now?" Nervously, he licked his lips.

Hookhand's eyes widened. "Are you okay- I mean do you need to stay here tonight?"

Eugene realized what he meant and huffed a silent laugh, starting to shake his head. "No, nothing like that!"

"Then are you sure your gonna be okay to be home alone, tonight?" he urged him, gripping his shoulder.

He bit his lip. Not alone, at last- Ugh, she better be GONE by tonight! "Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. It's just a soup recipe for dinner. That's all I'm in the middle of. And I'll be fine, tonight, don't worry." He smiled, sadly, then retreated to the mug.

Hookhand's eyes narrowed on him slyly now. "You're not making a soup with stuff you don't know about for yourself."

Eugene blushed at his correct analysis. "No. No, I am not."

"Ahhh," he grinned. "A romantic candlelit dinner?"

Eugene could not help but mirror his grin as he nodded along his guided thoughts: Romance, candlelight, a home-cooked meal, with Blondie...

"With Brenna? Ey?" Hookhand continued giddily, tapping at his arm.

Eugene's reverie crashed along with his expression.

"Huh, huhhh?" he still goaded, "Come on, you pushin further with her or what?"

His chest sank. "Well, no, actually..."

Hookhand jerked back in disbelief. "No? What? You two just looked perfect in here."

Eugene looked him directly in the eyes, confessing his emotional conflict. They leaned close and he whispered, "Blondie's at-... she's at my place..."

Again, he jerked away. "Boyyy, don't do it."

"I'm not trying to- she just- it just, sorta, happened, and I'm guessin' she's gonna be there for dinner, so I thought... Ya know, it could only do good, right?" he shrugged. A dorky hopeful smile came over him, only to be shot down by a deadpanned glare. "Oh, come onnn," he moaned, "It's not like anything can happen." He rolled his eyes, cynically certain of his pessimism.

Hookhand rolled his eyes as well, certain of just the opposite. "Doesn't anybody know where she is?"

Eugene shook his head and crossed his arms. "I doubt it. Pretty sure she lied to me about telling her parents."

Hookhand was flabbergasted and speechless.

"What?" Eugene shrugged. "She's 18, almost 19. And she's... You know." He waved his hand out. "Technically she can do whatever she wants. And today, apparently, she wanted to go, there."

"And what are you gonna do about it? What- How does making her soup fit into all this?"

"Well, I-"

"Hey, Hookie!" Some men down the other end were waving empty mugs at him. "What're ya doin?!"

Hookhand shooed them away without even looking. "Go on."

"I, uh..." I'm a pathetic sap... "I thought that maybe if I was nice to her, we could go back to being friends at least-"

"'Cause you tried so hard to just be friends last time," he bounced his head along with his words.

"Look, man!" Eugene sat up straight, defensively gesturing away from his chest, "I did try! She's the one who shot me down!"

"She's just gonna break your heart again." He shook his head.

Eugene slouched back down, at a loss for words as half of him desperately did not want to hear such advice. The other half was terrified it would hold true.

"And kid," Hookhand yanked his other shoulder with his hook, pulling him to look at him head-on. "I do not want to see you go down that road again. You hear me? I never seen anyone a wreck like you."

Eugene nodded in sorrow, remembering how this man was one of the few to help him through the period he spoke of. He should not turn his back on how far they had helped him come.

"I know, 'Everybody loves the Princess,' but it's YOU," he lovingly prodded his chest with the curve of his hook, "I'm worried about. She'll be fine."

"I know you're right." He swallowed and took a couple deep breaths. "I mean," he finally spoke in a small voice, though he tried to laugh it off. "Who cares, right?"

"Well I do." Hookhand rubbed his shoulder again, then offered him his palm to grip with him. "It's always good to see ya, Eugene."

"You, too, Hook." He crossed forearms with him and gave his hand a good squeeze. "Thank you, for everything, man."

"No problem. It's my job." He pointed to the small round table that Shorty sat at. "There's your root vegetable man."

"Whyyy," Eugene pondered out loud as he handed over a coin, "Why does he know so much about root vegetables, exactly?"

Hookhand merely shrugged and went back to tend to the other customers.

"Hey, Shorty," Eugene uncertainly confronted the old man. "I, uh, I'm told you could tell me what parsnips are? Perhaps where I could find some?" He was unsure if he was actually getting anything he was saying.

He snorted, vaguely. "You don't find parsnips," he slurred. "You've gotta," he hiccuped, "Grow 'em yourself."

"Ah, yeah," Eugene sweated trying to communicate with him. "I kinda need them now. Do you know someone else, who, has already grown them, whom I might buy them off of?"

"Sure, you can find parsnips," a nearby drunkard took it upon himself to weigh in. "They grow wild around here."

Eugene raised a brow at the man, not sure who to believe.

Shorty shook his head for an extra long time. "Nope!"

"Can somebody please just tell me what they look like?!" Eugene sighed, exacerbated by his ever-lengthening fetch quest.

The other two men spoke simultaneously, "They look like white carrots," but Shorty's undeniably nasally and wavering voice continued on a winding journey. "Which also look like hemlock! Which also looks like- parsnips."

"Hemlock?" Eugene questioned. "Isn't that-"

"It's poisonous," Shorty blurted happily.

Eugene understood now. "So that's why you shouldn't pick wild parsnips, got it. Okay, but now what about the buying of the farmed parsnips?"

"Oh," he turned in his seat and hopped off it. "They're in the back."

Eugene ran his hand down his face.

Shorty crawled under an open section of the bar near the hearth, and rummaged around.

Eugene leaned over the edge of the bar to see. "HO!" He just barely dodged the sack that was thrust up in place of his face.

"There you go!"

Eugene grabbed the sack and breathed the deepest sigh of relief. "Thank you."

---

She heard him shuffling the stone back and forth again, returning.

After several more hours of her own crying and dozing, and his rummaging and all sorts of general kitchen noises, she smelled the similar but faintly different tell-tale scent. The smell triggered more awful old issues to begin swirling in with the new ones of dealing with the suitors, along with the constant issue of Eugene. Finally she heard his boots on the steps again. Another small knock came from her doorway frame. She ignored it for a good minute, and he waited.

At last he called in, "Rapunzel?"

Still she ignored.

"Can I come in?" He sighed heavily, but tried to sound friendly and cheerful, "Uh, I uh, I made dinner." Still no answer. "Rapunzel?" he called louder. Finally, he pulled back one of the curtains to peak in. He saw her still laying on her bed, still atop the blanket, still facing away from the door. Is she really sleeping? He walked around to the other side of the bed.

Her eyes were wide open.

She was ignoring me... "Heyyy?" he said indignantly, but remained calm.

"I heard you."

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really."

He sighed, "Move," then pushed her legs aside as he tried to sit on the edge, but she mostly moved for him. "Look, I know you're not okay. But you need to eat. And I, um," he glanced back to the doorway. "I don't really know- we haven't had many meals together..."

She finally looked at his troubled face.

He reciprocated. "But I found this recipe book downstairs, and the most used one looked like this haz-"

"I smelled it," she said coldly, then tucked in on herself more.

He was confused. "I'm sorry, do you not like that one?"

She groaned. "I do. But..."

"But?"

The thought of Gothel surprise-making her soup irked her to end. "Just... You should have asked first!" she burst.

"I'm... sorry?" he said with confusion. He sighed, with his apologies still plastering his face. "Look, I just wanted to surprise you. I feel bad about, everything, so I wanted to do something nice for you. A peace offering. C'mon," he rubbed her leg comfortingly. "You don't have to eat it. I can whip up something else for you."

But then... the thought of Eugene making her soup, while simultaneously reassuring her that she did not have to eat it, well, that... That was different. "Actually," her voice softened. She sat up. "I'll try it. It's the thought that counts, right?" She offered him a new smile.

He brightened up. "Yeah, thanks."

Sheepishly, she tried a friendly compliment. "I… I didn't know you could cook…"

He did a double take at her, then realized that she had indeed never seen him cook anything. "Yeah," he said quietly but with an edge, "Yeah I can cook." See? You don't know me.

"That's… nice." She smiled, desperate for peace.

Her trying, naive, trusting, hopefullness rang a bell to him. "But, ah, also, listen, Rapunzel," he scratched his neck as he cringed, "I don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable with me here. I want you to feel safe around me. So, I am so sorry about before. I shouldn't have-" He shook his head, "I promise, it won't happen again. I know I wasn't thinking right and I just-"

"It's alright," she chuckled sincerely.

"It just felt like- like we were in a different time all of a sudden. Ya know? You, me, here, in this place, hearing you say my name and looking to me for answers-" He bit his lips together and shook his head again. "But, well- it's just that, I know we're all alone out here, where nobody could ever find us, and I… Look, I just, I remember, too, and-"

"Eugene," she cut him off with a suddenly deadly serious panic in her tone.

He watched her carefully as he winced. "Hm?"

"I'm the one who asked you to come out here all alone with me. Because I know no one else can find it. I asked you, specifically, because I do know I can trust you. I have always trusted you. Besides just, all that month at the castle… You were the one who found me, all alone here, then we spent two whole days alone together, and you- even when you tried to ditch me at The Snuggly Duckling, you never…" She sighed and looked away, newly depressed at her thoughts. "If you wanted to, you could've just... when we made camp, especially while I was asleep, or before we ever even left the tower here, after I untied you..."

BLONDIE- He gulped, thinking about how badly he had wanted to kiss her even that night, but did not even push that, compared to what anyone else might have done. Now he even did know the exact paradise he was missing. "The bar's set pretty low, innit?"

"I don't trust any of them. I think you're the only person in the world I can completely trust, Eugene."

"Rapunzel," he gasped, quietly horrified, "Have any of them-?"

"No," she shook her head. "No, I've been fine."

"You know you can still tell me if anything ever happens, right? Me or Tom, or your mom, or someone. Okay?"

"I…" I knew that about the rest, but still you, too? "Well, thank you then. But really," she smiled confident in this at least, "I have been fine since."

"Alright," he sighed in relief.

"...thank you," she whispered in a tiny mumble.

He sucked his lips in and looked away. With a deep breath, he changed the subject slightly. "We should go eat so we can get you home."

She scoffed. "Can't I stay?"

"What? Rapunzel, if you don't get back home by tonight, the guards are gonna be sent out to search for you, and the whole kingdom will be thrown into a panic that you just vanished!"

"Please don't just- I don't wanna just head straight back-"

Eugene sighed with exasperation, but also sympathy. "Alright, listen. You can stay here tonight, but then we have to go back, first thing in the morning. I have to be in early, but I'll write your parents that you're with me and you're safe. That should be alright enough."

"No, not just tonight, either!" she argued.

"You can't just-"

"I don't wanna go back, Eugene!"

"You're the Princess-"

"Exactly! As Princess, I can't do anything! I just- I want my freedom! I want to be free to be with you and not forced to be with one of those stupid suitors!"

Eugene stared her down harshly. But you don't LOVE me. "Well too bad, but you know there's nothing I can do about that, either." And why would I even want to nowadays?

She sighed and whimpered. Why are so selfish again?! "How about a week? Hm? A week's vacation out here, and- and you can take off, too! It's alright if I say it is. You won't get in trouble, I promise!"

He watched her dictate his life, helplessly, but complained anyway. "No, not 'trouble,' per se, but he could move me again. He's already moved me all over the goddamned-"

"Eugene, please," she whined. "Just this one more thing, just, this one mercy, please! Then I will leave you alone forever- I- I promise. I only have one month left, and-"

So you can just whittle me down over a week to get in my pants? "And you're down another suitor I hear," he bit.

She blanched. "How did you…?"

He jerked his head away the complete opposite direction. "I ran into Brenna at the Duckling."

"Oh…" She deflated and sighed so sadly.

His brow still creased and he dropped his gaze to his lap. "We had lunch."

"Eugene," she urged, and touched his arm as their eyes snapped to stare at the touch. She gulped. "I'm not trying to break you up. I'm… I'm happy that you have someone else…"

Maybe she does at least care? Like as a friend at least? Well, I know that after that guy this morning, there were only two left. "How many suitors do you have left?"

"My father said that, besides the one who left this morning, there's only two left."

And this really is her last chance for a breather… Alright. I can give you a break. "So… a week you said?" Coming from you it's an order anyway. I never had a choice here.

She perked up. "Please?"

"One week. Til Sunday, you already used up today."

"Deal!" She bounced up, all smiles. That should be long enough to get you back!

He sighed and nodded. "I'll take off, too. We can both blow off some steam." And NOT as a euphemism!

She sighed in relief. "Alright, thank you, so much!"

He smiled back. "Alright then. Come on then, soup's gonna get cold."

"I guess I'll try a little."

---

Eugene led the way out of the bedroom and downstairs, with a careful ear on her. Rapunzel followed, sullen. He sighed as he sat down at the small square kitchen table, and she sat opposite him with a sigh of her own. He began eating right away, but she idly stirred her spoon around in the creamy orange-colored soup.

At last she spoke up. "I'll just have a little, though, 'cause I don't feel like being sleepy the rest of the evening."

Eugene swallowed another spoonful and looked to her quizzically. "Sleepy?"

"Yeah, this always makes me sleepy for some reason. I have no idea why."

"Huh," he shrugged. "Alright then. Just let me know if I made it right, at least?"

"Okay." She brought a spoonful up, sniffed it, then sipped half of it. The next moment, she made a strange face in reaction to the taste. This isn't right!

Eugene continued on eating. "Maybe I could reheat it for later, before you go to bed? If it'll help you sleep?" He looked up and noticed her expression with alarm. "What's the matter? Is it bad?"

"No, no!" she exclaimed, worried to hurt his feelings. "It's good- In fact it tastes great! But, it's just not how Gothel made it…"

"You sure- ah- but I followed the recipe to the letter, and it was unaltered-" Eugene's eyes flew wide and he froze. "Wait, Rapunzel! You said her soup always made you sleepy?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Oh, Rapunzel…" He set his spoon down and covered his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel…"

"What, what is it?"

He dropped his hands. "Do you know what hemlock is?"

"Oh, no, no," she shook her head with a smile. "See, I-" She froze as well. "I…" She sat, very still, and very quiet, as her mind raced.

"Rapunzel, I know that I couldn't have possibly used it by accident. I went out to the Duckling before to get the rest of the ingredients, and Shorty specifically told me about the white-carrot lookalike problem. He grew these parsnips, he's really into root vegetables, and Hookhand vouched for all this. He's gotta know what he's talking about. He said hemlock will knock you out- it should kill you- but I guess maybe your hair-"

A high pitched, gasping sob escaped Rapunzel as she stood up suddenly, her chair jarringly scraping back on the floor.

Eugene copied her, "Rapunzel-" unsure what to do next, as he watched her run to her bookcase.

She pulled out her Botany book, and flipped to a certain page; where a page had been torn out. The book tumbled from her hands to the floor. She hid her face in her hands. "She told me I ripped this page out as a baby!"

Eugene clamored over to her. "Rapunzel," he tried softly to reach her. "I'm sorry, but-"

"Are you sure?"

"I just spoke with Shorty. I'm sure. He told me how dangerous a mixup could be, and I got the parsnips from him- he grows them himself, but he said wild hemlock does grow around here."

"...she would find them growing wild…"

"Rapunzel, I'm so sorry…" He firmly gripped her shoulder in support.

She turned away, with a mind to run back to her room.

"Rapunzel!" Eugene cried out, reaching for her arm again. He missed; his fingers just grazed her sleeve.

She froze though.

"Rapunzel, please, eat," he strained. "Or tell me what else to make you. But you didn't have lunch, and-"

"I know," she hid her face in her hands. "I know."

"I have some apples and carrots even, just, if you want?" He gestured out to the direction of the cellar outside, then to the counter. "Milk? I've got eggs, peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic - I know it's suppertime but I could make you an omelet?" Something occurred to him and he looked around. "Shoot, I should've picked up bread…"

She shook her head, but had cheered up. "No, no, it's…" She slowly turned around to face him. "It's okay. You still went through a lot of work for this, and it is really good," she smiled. She looked to his wide open chest, the warm brown peasant shirt hanging loosely, yet still defining him so well. Hug? She twitched toward him and shuffled her arms.

Oh NOW you care about how much I 'went through' for you?! But he forced himself to put that aside. In front of him currently, she stood, hurt, but friendly again. Hug? He opened his arms discreetly at his sides, trying to show she was welcome.

She drifted toward him ever so slightly, but then got ahold of herself. "Ah, so, thank you." She nodded and headed back to her seat.

He whipped his hands to behind his back, clasping them with a deep breath, but still smiled and nodded back. "You're welcome." He headed back as well.

It seemed another miracle, but they managed to pass a single meal with amiable conversation, without bursting out into a fight.

---

"I'll clean up," Rapunzel offered.

"And I'll get that letter written- ah," they locked faces awkwardly. He sighed and confessed, "I found your stationary."

She disengaged, carefully breathing herself back down. He's really gone through ALL of my things here?! "Alright, thanks." She curtly turned away to start shuffling dishes around.

He hurried off to her bedroom to write.

---

A short time later, he re-emerged with a single sheet of paper, this one covered with elegant script in ink. "Here, how does this sound?"

She turned around from the sink to listen, hands covered in soap bubbles. "Hm?"

"Your Majesties, Firstly, let me assure you that Rapunzel is perfectly safe. She has requested a week-long holiday, a respite away from her duties at the castle and from meeting new suitors momentarily. She has subsequently also requested that I take off this week, so I will be away from my duties as well. I will be accompanying her at all times, and will ensure she returns safely this coming Sunday. Signed, Eugene Fitzherbert."

"That," she curled in on herself sheepishly, "That sounds good." Didn't say where we were, good!

With a deep breath, he folded it in thirds, then looked away, into his memory. "Do you have wax around here anywhere? I haven't ever found any. Like sealing wax."

"Oh, no…" She looked away as well. "Wasn't exactly ever, sending letters from here, ya know? Hah… Um, would candle wax work?"

He shrugged, rubbing his neck. "I guess." He grabbed a candle and matches off the shelf and had a small circle melted across the flap in no time. "Ring." He held his hand out to her.

"Oh!" She quickly dried her hand enough and pressed her ring into the wax herself as he stepped aside.

"There ya go, officially not even legally a kidnapping," he chuckled, but immediately swiped it up and headed to grab his cape beside the window.

She chuckled back, but could not help the blush that puffed up. No, with you, that would just be 'running away…'

"I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Okay. And, thanks again…"

"Mm-hm." He made sure to face away from her as he descended through the trap hole, to hide his grimace. Better not be fucking my life over again. Things are actually going GOOD now!

---

Hookhand turned around at the sound of the door. "Back again?"

"Can I get a refill?" Eugene roughly ran a hand back through all his hair as he plopped down at the bar. "And a shot. And something for the road."

"That bad, eh?"

He took a deep breath and shrugged. "No worse, actually, just… gonna be a looong week."

"Week?"

"She's staying the week."

"Why didn't you tell her no?"

He rolled his entire body sarcastically. "'Cause she's kinda my boss? She's the FUCKIN' PRINCESS!" He threw his arms out in frustration.

"Fitz?" A new voice came from behind him, undeniable between the British accent and the nickname. With sandy hair in between blonde and light brown, over piercing steel blue eyes and high but charismatic pale freckled cheeks, the tall and lanky, lax-uniformed guard honed right in on him, as he made his way out of the crowd and to Eugene's side.

He cringed, and looked the opposite way when his white-calvary-gloved hand came down on his shoulder.

"How you doing?"

"I'm good!" he looked back towards him with a fake smile but eyes stuck on the bar, not meeting his.

"What's that about the Princess I hear?"

Eugene finally looked up to his face, smugly. "Brenna already told me you saw us leaving. Well, only she didn't mention her."

Tom dropped his shoulders and chipper attitude. "Yes, I know she was last seen leaving with you."

"Alright, well…" Eugene quickly whipped around to better scan who was hanging around that night.

Tom's nerves began rising. "And so now where is she?"

Hookhand answered for him. "She's at his place."

Tom's eyes bugged out. "Whot?!"

Eugene splayed his hands out defensively. "Just til Sunday. Nothing's happening. And I didn't have a choice."

The other men shared a faithless look.

"Anyway," he rubbed his face, then forcibly switched to jovial. "What fun is this! Tom! So lucky you happened to be here."

"Yeah, and why's that? So we can stop you from doing something styupid?"

"Tom, Tom, Tomaeus," Eugene sweet-talked him and slapped his back with one arm, as his other pulled the letter out from inside his shirt. "I am not stupid." He flicked the letter towards him, finally locking eyes. "For the King. Besides, you know exactly how much he trusts me." He flashed a cocky smirk.

He took the letter, and flipped it over to see the wax seal. Although it was a plain white, it did bear the sun sigil imprint.

Hookhand shook his head but pushed the drinks toward him.

Eugene snatched the shot glass first, to down all at once.

While he was recovering, Tom leaned instead on the bar, the other hand on his hip. "So you know that, too. What about tomorrow morning?"

Eugene shook his head. "Yeah, I know, but I'll have to miss this one."

"Well, you know the King won' like that."

"Oh well," he started on the beer. "Should keep a closer eye on his daughter."

Tom merely raised his brow at him.

"What? If anyone can criticize him for shit like that, it's me! What even happened this morning? She actually didn't tell me and Brenna just said it was something about Pascal?"

"Yeah, seems the lil' bugger's still uniformly opposed to them all."

Eugene shook his head. "They haven't all been bad. God, I didn't expect her to drag it out all year. Can't she just pick one already? Is she even trying?"

"She is," he nodded to the side, "But then soon as she seems to make any progress, she self-sabotages and, tears it all apart."

He groaned.

Tom eyed him carefully. "And what about Brenna?"

"I ran into her earlier here and we had lunch, but…" He licked his lips as his heart rate picked up with nervous anticipation. A crooked smile took over his whole face. "Uhhhmmm, so how much do engagement rings go for?"

His eyes happily bugged out. "An engagement ring? Really?"

Eugene's grin could not be contained and he nodded. "Could barely call it a hint, she dropped it loud and clear right in my lap," he made a big show of pointing a finger down onto the bar. "To-day."

"Well," he proudly puffed up his chest, "First, it's traditionally three-month's worth of yor pay, and second, don't expect to add anything from me into that, because you could not have lost this bet harder, my friend!"

"Pfft," Eugene blushed, loath to remember the particular night he spoke of, though utterly enamored with the bigger picture. "Yeah, yeah…" He shrugged, happy to have this cushion to let his heart relax into.

Tom chuckled at him some more, but had one more important matter of business. "So if yor gonna be 'gone' til Sunday, what should I tell the future Mrs. Fitzherbert?"

His mood dashed, he bit his lip. "Don't tell her anything. Just got pulled away on business."

---

He hung his cape back up. "Sooo," he turned around slowly, frowning, "I'm sure you'd prefer your old bed?"

She twisted her hands, cringing worse than him. "If you don't mind."

He shrugged and shook his head. "More yours I guess."

She began to raise her arm to point, "You could take-"

"No," he snapped, scoffing.

She dropped her arm. "I mean if you-" really don't want to even just sleep with me at all...

But he cut her off. "Absolutely no way. I'll sleep on the sofa." Even though the 'sofa' was a two-seater and merely wicker with some thin pillows.

She nodded definitively, and turned towards the stairs, but hesitated. "Um, one more tiny little thing?"

He sighed exasperatedly. "What?"

She rubbed her elbow as she cowered. "My corset?"

He rolled his eyes, "Come on," and motioned her to walk ahead up the stairs.

Back in her bedroom, as soon as she turned around, he grabbed at the knot and began bristly working it apart. Both stared into space, the tower falling away from around them, the dim bedroom substituting for another, muscle memory unfortunately kicking in. So much so, that once the laces were loosened enough, he slipped his fingers inside - and she flinched at the familiarly tender touch.

He snatched his hands back, eyes blinking back to reality. She doesn't need help with anything more than that.

Just as she turned around to catch his face, he was already moving back to the night table.

Inside the jingling drawer, he counted out what gold coins he already had stashed there, neatly stacking them in one corner, and emptied the rest of the change from his pouch. 360 gold pieces for an engagement ring?! Really?! He sighed dishearteningly and shook his head. Good thing I don't pay rent, but I was hoping it'd be sooner than that. Like, within a month… He looked back to Rapunzel.

She had taken her earrings out, and between staring at them and trying to find a safe place to leave them on the vanity full of his things, it took her a while to set them down. She then turned back to patiently watch him. What's he checking his gold right now for?

He sighed at her, closed the drawer, and went to grab his pajamas from his wardrobe, rather covering them up in his arm.

"Um, where's my nightgown?"

"Oh, your stuff's all in the downstairs wardrobe."

"Oh, okay, I'll ge-"

"No," he shot, horrified, "I'll get it." He left abruptly to get it, dropped his own clothes on the sofa, then prepared himself to open the wardrobe. Once he did, he could not help glancing down to the great pile of brown hair at the bottom. It was bad enough that all of her clothes smelled so strongly of her. Ignoring the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, he snatched the blue nightgown and hurried back up.

"Thank you," she delicately took it from him, ignoring her butterflies at even this brief disjointed connection.

"Good night, Princess." By the time he had gotten all the words out, the curtain was swishing behind him again.

"...good night…" she mumbled to herself.

---

Downstairs, Eugene slumped up to his calendar, leaning one arm on the wall beside it, and grabbed the nearby pencil. He X'ed out the day like all the others before it, and wrote the next number in the sequence: 303. After that, he added an ellipsis and question mark. As he stared long and hard at it, he bit his lip and jiggled his foot. He scribbled out the question mark. I'm not gonna mess this up.

---

Upstairs, Rapunzel shoved her face into her pillow, breathing him in with every quiet sob. I've messed everything up...

---

A/N: That enough angst for ya? ;)

Follow me as MiraNova23 on tumblr, at miranova23 dot tumblr dot com for Tangled Fandom Resurrection, messaging, keeping up with what's going on in my life, how the writing's going, my other fanworks, lots of Chuck vs Tangled, and all-around general Disnerdiness!