Decree of the King

"The greatest crimes are caused by excess and not by necessity."

– Aristotle

It was a testament to the glassmaker's craft how the morning sunlight streamed through the wide plate-glass window. Each pane was set exactly matching its neighbors, giving a uniform beam when the sun was in the proper part of the morning sky. The massive ironwood desk sat square and forthright in the center of the royal study. While hardly free of decoration, what ornamentation it did have was understated and subtle, giving an aura of austerity and clarity of purpose to the man behind it: King Frederic of Corona.

For a man late into his fourth decade, the monarch's firm bearing remained untouched by time. A stubborn jawline that could have been chiseled with the same instrument that carved the desk; his hair was still mahogany-dark, with only bare traces of silver at the temple. The thick, full beard was sculpted as meticulously as his clothes had been tailored, not a hair out of place. His powerful chest and shoulders filled the tunic he wore to a nicety. Features drawn with concentration revealed a thoughtful brow and keen eyes that flicked rapidly over the various correspondence. The royal crown itself sat comfortably on the table within reach of Frederic's right hand that now scribbled ink across a fresh letter.

The king's black-feathered quill had seen much use this morning, penning one decree or another, going over ledgers, and scrawling missives. Papers were strewn about the desk as he referred to one or another of them, jotting notes on some and returning to the large inkwell built into the table's upper surface repeatedly. Affairs of state did not wait for the king's own convenience. Although he was the head of state to which he had been schooled and bred, Frederic knew himself as the least of all Corona's people. The powers bestowed by the crown were surpassed only by the royal duties that required such power. A true king understood that the land and people first had needs that he may not deny. He must see his people fed before he sat to feast, and his people safe before he took his rest.

And King Frederic had not rested in many years, for his people's needs were so very dire. But now, there was a faint spark of hope. A smoldering ember that he had to seize and nourish back into a fire that warmed and provided for the people again. He had to succeed, for this was Corona's last chance.

A polite knock sounded at the door. "Enter," Frederic called.

The Captain of the Guard entered, his armor and uniform as impeccable as always, and bowed low before his sovereign. "Your most gracious Majesty, I salute and answer your summons on this morn."

"Stilton, please," Frederic signed, his middle-aged baritone voice rich and full-bodied like an expensive wine. "I am resigned to obsequious formality from my subjects and servants, however much I may detest it. You, however, are no mere servant but an old friend of my family who has proven himself many times over. I offer to you once again, Frederic will do when we speak privately."

"You do me great honor," the Captain nodded his head.

"And?" Frederic gestured expectantly, a fondness in his deep voice. "Will you exercise this allowance yet?"

"Not today, Your Majesty."

"So you always say but I will convince you yet, my friend." Frederic chuckled.

Although Stilton's gaze remained as stoic and deferential as ever, a faint smile could be seen. "But back to business, Majesty, I have last night's perimeter report for your review."

Frederic mentally sighed and added the report Stilton offered to the growing pile on his desk. Royal duty or not, he considered making it illegal for paperwork to be stacked that high.

The Captain handed him another set of papers. "I also have today's patrol roster and each of their assignments awaiting your seal."

This time, Frederic didn't bother hiding how his shoulders sagged.

Sadly, the other man didn't get the message. "Along with a 37-B form requesting an increase for—"

"Stilton, please!" Frederic lifted a hand in protest. His Captain of the Guard was a legend beyond even Corona, the very model of diligence, skill, and loyalty. A quality that made his king well with pride. However, it was exhausting to manage Stilton's excessive by-the-book attitude and practices. "I've long learned to have faith in your measures, however… stringent they may be at times. But is all this extra security necessary? Your reports are not the only ones I read; your crackdowns make the people nervous, and these latest measures are upsetting desperately needed shipments."

"These measures are most necessary, sire!" The Captain declared. "The Festival begins tomorrow, and I could never allow myself to rest while a grave threat hides amongst the good people of our city, waiting to strike."

"Are you suggesting Equisan agents?" Frederic shook his head and returned to his paperwork. "Come now, Stilton. I admit that King Trevor's stunts are as tiresome as they are immature, but I trust that he's at least learned his lesson in boundaries after last year."

King Trevor of Equis. A more childish and juvenile man Frederic had never known. A man convinced that the obvious and undisputed means of a king proving his realm's superiority was to pull silly pranks fit for schoolchildren. His obsession only grew after Frederic's faithful wife and queen rejected Trevor's advances. Even so, the man's pranks normally proved as harmless as they were juvenile, and so Frederic largely ignored them. That is, until Trevor crossed a line last year, when Stilton had caught Equisan agents painting crass faces across Corona's stock of paper lanterns for the Festival. An outraged Frederic immediately mounted his horse and rode straight to Equis to confront Trevor before his own court. By the time he left, a trembling King Trevor was left with no doubts that the birthday of Frederic's missing daughter was off-limits.

"Not King Trevor," Stilton shook his head. "But a far more dangerous delinquent. Flynn Rider."

"Rider?" The quill paused as Frederic looked back up. "You found him, then?" But when the Captain didn't answer, the quill resumed its work. "I'm afraid you're chasing ghosts by now, old friend."

"My lord, he's still out there! I know it!" Stilton spoke up. "He's a cutthroat pirate, a parasite feeding off the industry of honest men! The enemy of civilization! As Captain of the Royal Guard charged with your safety and security, I must urge you to take this man seriously. He—!"

"I take him quite seriously, Stilton." The king answered without looking up from his letters. "What else would I do after an outlaw single-handedly defeated fourteen of my men, including my own Captain?"

Stilton winced.

"You found him once already, something few have ever done." Frederic dipped his quill in fresh ink again. "But by that logic, if even your extreme measures have found no leads after an entire week, then it is surely because Rider fled the city after you blew his cover. And I cannot waste precious resources when we have more important matters to attend to."

"My lord, what greater 'matter' is there?" The Captain asked, trying not to let his bafflement show. "There's a rise in crime across our fair city. Even now, more and more people engage in thievery for petty self-interest, enough to attract even Flynn Rider's interest!"

"Stilton, I detest criminals as much as anyone, but as king, I also recognize both the cause and remedy," Frederic answered firmly, the quill completing his signature with a flourish. "The cause is the look on a mother's face when she cannot feed her children. I have been unable to provide for them as king, and so I cannot cast blame upon my subjects for my own failures."

Frederic jostled a small sand shaker over the freshly penned letter. Sand was a common ingredient often used to keep a letter's ink from smudging. Folding the letter into a waiting envelope, he poured emerald wax over the center seam and then picked up a brass stamp, rolling it between his fingers. "To feed the people who may yet steal is both my remedy and responsibility."

Corona's king then firmly pressed the stamp into the wax, imprinting the letter with his royal seal. Putting it aside, Frederic dipped his quill in ink again and silently continued his work of correspondence.

"Respectfully, Majesty, I must disagree." Captain Stilton's jaw tightened. "You aren't at fault for those that defy you. A is A, and scum is scum. Only cowards too lazy to push on through honest work ever turn to crime, turn away from the stability and protection that you offer. Criminals, lowlifes, and traitors to the kingdom, acting in veneration of savagery itself. The only remedy is to cut out the rot and set an undeniable example to others who may suffer temptation."

The quill stopped. The king's eyes drifted up at the man, glaring through dark eyebrows. But instead of answering, Frederic set his quill in the ink bottle and rose to his full 6'6 height, towering a full head over the Captain. Stilton stiffened and fought not to swallow at his liege's clear displeasure. The king held his glare for another moment, then walked to the window behind his desk overlooking Corona.

"Look at our lands, old friend." Frederic sighed, his eyes drifting into wistful nostalgia. "I remember my family's kingdom in the great days of old. A thriving paradise. Fleets of boats lay at harbor, overflowing with wealth and fine goods. Our lands blessed by the golden bounty of the sun, as if inspiring our harvests to reach for the sky itself. Corona was no forsaken realm squatting by the sea. This was the breadbasket of a hundred kingdoms, the very center of all agricultural trade on the map!"

"We were the ones to give your hands something to do at the dinner table." The king chuckled, a trace of jollity and pride filling his voice. "Like the promised lands of lore, our fertile fields produced more high-quality food and ingredients every year than any other. Fruits and vegetables as succulent as molasses, and wheat that shined like gold. Farms bustling with sheep and cattle, the forests rich with game, bringing more meat and fur than we knew what to do with. Our vineyards brewed wine that was the envy of emperors. We hosted wondrous feasts worthy of the gods themselves, for our bounty was surpassed only by our hospitality. Thanks to us, all could share in the wealth of the sun."

"And thus, we feared no invader because even our rivals were dependent on us. An enemy of our kingdom was an enemy to twenty others." Frederic's reminiscing slowly passed, and his shoulders fell again. "But now, Corona fears no invader because we have so little to take."

Over the last eighteen years, the kingdom became a broken shadow of its former self, like a rock slowly crumbling from the beating of the ocean's waves. Harvests came in at a bare trickle, famine was commonplace, their coffers were nearly empty, and now the people were beginning to leave. A kingdom of farmers with no crops was a kingdom with a poor job market.

His allies in the Alliance, King Benjamin of Glowerhaven and Queen Ariel of Seahaven, had tried sending aid over the last few years. But Alliance waters had recently grown unusually treacherous with freak storms and pirate attacks. It was rare for even one Alliance ship to dock with Corona per month.

Worse, the despicable Duke of Weselton nearly bled what was left of them dry! Frederic should never have signed that blasted contract, but in his blind despair after losing his only child, he hadn't seen the trap he was lured into. The people were losing faith in their king. His family had watched over the kingdom since its foundation, and now a thousand years of prosperity had ended on his watch. If nothing changed, he would spend eternity in the afterlife unable to look his ancestors in the eye.

Frederic breathed deeply as he looked out at his once great kingdom, summoning his resolve. "But endure we must. We are the Kingdom of the Sun. No matter how dark the storm, we need only wait for the clouds to part and find the right moment to shine."

Watching from behind, a somber Stilton bowed his head. "Hiems semper verno cedit, your grace."

"Winter always yields to spring." Frederic nodded, smiling. "And we may finally have hope after all. Since that humiliating incident of his, the Duke's chokehold on our economic growth is paper thin. It won't be easy, but I finally have a window to get us back on our feet."

Frederic was already writing letters and decrees to devote full effort to rebuilding their infrastructure. Without the crippling expenses and conditions set by the Duke, Frederic could finally revoke the increased taxes Corona had needed to compensate. He and his allies had spent years drawing up ideas of revitalizing the kingdom if they ever broke free of Weselton's influence. If their days as an agricultural bastion were truly passed, Corana would have to explore alternative ventures for their main exports. In fact, one of Frederic's vassals had some promising ideas about their surplus of silkworms…

But in these desperate times, it was Arendelle, the Jewel of the North, who proved to be their saving grace. Arendelle had always stayed true and loyal to their alliance with Corona ever since their royal families had married into each other two generations ago. Even now, Princess Elsa, niece of King Frederic (Or was it second niece? Fourth? Eh, irrelevant; their families were always close and never bothered with that complicated formality) wouldn't be crowned Queen of Arendelle until next summer, but she had already proven herself a genius in finance and a saint in friendship.

A letter from Princess Elsa announced she had recently dispatched a massive relief shipment bringing silver, coal, northern timber, workers, and road construction supplies. Even more valuable, Arendelle had offered its entire annual surplus of their famous ice and fishing harvests. Corona would need their fish for both food and trade, and the ice would preserve what precious supplies they still had. And if that wasn't enough, Elsa had offered a very generous loan from her personal coffers, set below the minimum interest rate and to be paid back a century down the line!

It warmed Frederic's heart to still have family like the two sisters of Arendelle.

"Perhaps our golden age has passed, but I will still see the days of comfort and security returned." Frederic proclaimed as he looked back at Stilton. "This is our first chance in over a decade, and we must seize it for the sake of Corona and its people. That is our remedy to heal corruption, Captain. When a man must steal to feed his children, the only real unemployment relief is to give him a job. But to do that, you must first give the kingdom life, not prosecute it to death. It will require constant attention and delicate work. And even then, it may take ten or fifteen years. Which is why… Flynn Rider is of lesser concern to me."

Stilton jolted in shock. "Y-Your grace?"

Frederic turned to face him, his back to the window once again. "Flynn Rider may be a wanted thief, but still only one thief, one man, and this kingdom is more than any single man. Besides, if the stories are true, chasing him is a futile waste of resources and manpower I can't afford."

"The 'stories?'" The Captain eyed his king knowingly. "With all due respect, this wouldn't have anything to do with that time Rider made a laughingstock of King Trevor's 'impenetrable' castle?"

"…I will neither confirm nor deny that," Frederic answered with a neutral face. "Nor will I confirm or deny Rider perhaps earning from me an unofficial reprieve for his role in the Duke's fall from grace."

"W-Wha—But sire!" Stilton was horrified. "We can't just ignore him! He could bring the very same ruin to us!"

"Except that our dry coffers have nothing worth the effort of stealing. And I need you here for my daughter's Festival tomorrow." Frederic sighed, a sad and pleading smile gently pulling at his lips. "If you ever do see him again, then by all means pursue him. But otherwise, I see no cause for urgency."

Stilton was about to argue his case further, but a sudden movement behind the king caught his eye. A rope dropped past the window, followed shortly by a pair of mountainous men sliding down. Stilton's confusion was immediately forgotten when none other than Flynn Rider descended after them. To confound the matter even further, the man stopped his descent upon recognizing the Captain, and waved at him with a cheerful grin on his face!

Stilton was rarely at a loss for words, much less action. There was no place for indecisiveness in a captain's duties. Yet the sight before Stilton's eyes had him gaping like a fish out of water. He was right there. Flynn Rider was right there! They had all but turned the kingdom upside down trying to find the man, day after day of fruitless searching with nothing to show for it. Now, here he was, hanging by a rope right outside the window, grinning that infuriating smile over the king's shoulder! The sheer incredulity of his presence stunned all of Stilton's brain into a jumbled stupor. He could not form a coherent thought. His body trembled with the need for action, yet it refused to move. Stilton tried again to speak up in alarm, but all he could do was stammer before Rider gave him a cheeky wink and then dropped out of sight.

Frederic finally noticed Stilton's odd composure and the rapid movement of his eyes between the king's face and something behind him. He looked back and, seeing only the empty window, turned back to his captain and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder with a chuckle. "There's no need for such fuss, old friend. After all, Flynn Rider is still just another thief."

Rider's head poked back into view like a grumpy gopher. The cheeky look was gone, his mouth hanging open in baffled offense at what he overheard. Stilton started to point, but Frederic stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"And like any thief," continued Frederic, oblivious to the presence at the window. "He is only a simple man with common desires and motivations."

A flush came to Rider's face. Then, to Stilton's utter bewilderment, the man reached up and sharply rapped his knuckles on the window.

Tap tap tap! "Hey! King Whiskers!" Tap tap tap!

Frederic glanced over his shoulder at the disturbance.

"I beg your pardon and cry foul! I am anything but common!" Rider gave a resentful "humph," and then he was gone.

The room was dead quiet. Frederic stared at the space Rider occupied but a moment ago, then glanced briefly at Stilton before back to the window. Stilton recognized the expression on his face well. The same uncertain, baffled look everyone seemed to wear after their first exposure to the inexplicable phenomenon that was Flynn Rider.

The king slowly pointed at the window. "Was… was that…?"

"Yes."

"Did he just…?"

"Yes."

Both men were snapped out of their daze when another loud rapping sounded. This time from the door, much louder and more urgent. "Your Majesty!" came an equally urgent voice from behind the door. Recognizing the voice as one of his men, Stilton whirled around and raced to the door, all but flinging it open to reveal the man. "Your Majesty! Urgent news! There's—!"

"It will wait, Sergeant Bakker!" The Captain barked. "Sound the alarm, lock the place down! Rider's been sighted, repeat, Flynn Rider has been sighted! He's invading the royal palace itself!"

"He already did, sir!" The sergeant frantically insisted, eyes full of terror, his breath heaving in panic. "That's why I'm here! He was just in the throne room!"

"The throne room?" It was only now that he heard the thundering of boots and shouts from his men echoing through the halls. His thoughts raced. If Rider had already been inside and Stilton had just seen him escaping, it meant the thief already had what he came for. Something from the throne room, the seat of power in Corona. Then he remembered spotting a satchel on Rider's shoulder and a horrible thought occurred to him. He prayed he was wrong. "What did he do?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but he took it! The Crown of the Lost Princess is gone!"

Blood seeped from Stilton's face, his skin turning white as a ghost. What sort of arrogance could… no, no, none of that! The Captain of the Guard knew his duty. "Ready my horse."

The sergeant saluted and rushed off. Stilton gritted his teeth in resolve. "Sire, you have my solemn word that—"

"He took what?!" A great hand slammed into the desk, snapping the quill and spilling the ink across unfinished letters. "No… no!"

All decorum was forgotten. Stilton didn't have time to react before Frederic hastily barreled past him and the sergeant through the door. The king charged through the royal halls, moving more frantically than he had in years. His aging knees protested but he did not register it. Everything had vanished. He did not see the many guards and staff as he ran, nor could he hear his own captain rushing to keep up while shouting for everyone to make way. Only one thing existed in Frederic's mind as he ran, one thing that caused an icy dread to spread through his chest, threatening to strike his heart.

"He took it! The Crown of the Lost Princess is gone!"

Frederic had roamed the palace halls all his life, he knew every corridor and route by heart. At the rare speed he was running, it took him seventeen seconds to reach the throne room. But it felt like the longest voyage of his life, a feeling of eternity he had not felt since the day his daughter was born. The moment he became a father, when time itself became strange, and every hall seemed to stretch endlessly no matter how fast he ran. A moment of eternity where haunting thoughts were his only company.

The baby girl with locks of golden sunshine opened her doleful green eyes and laughed with joy and happiness. The two parents chuckled back with loving adoration as Arianna reached into the cradle to scoop up her daughter. Frederic brought out a small crown they knew their daughter would one day wear with pride and gently rested it upon her small head. The child squealed with more laughter as it slipped down the side of her head, slightly too large for her. One day though, they hoped it would fit her perfectly.

'Ancestors, I beseech you, not again! Not that! Anything but that!'

The words repeated in his mind over and over like a mantra, a desperate prayer hoping against hope that it wasn't true, that there was some terrible mistake. Finally, after those long seventeen seconds, Frederic reached the throne room and brushed past the swarm of guards. "Let me through. Let me through! Rapunzel! Rapunzel, no! PLEASE, NO!"

The crowd parted for him, revealing the pedestal.

Empty.

Frederic felt his heart shatter. His strength vanished like a snuffed candle, and the king collapsed to his knees before all his men. The room was deathly quiet as his wrinkling eyes could only stare at the vacant place where his daughter's crown had rested only moments ago. He and Arianna had her for so little time that it was her only possession. No cherished toys, no favorite food. Only a crown.

Gone.

Oh, what would Arianna think? How would her fragile heart bear this new loss?

As he did many times over the last eighteen years, Frederic treacherously wondered if all this was, in fact, his penance. Everything around him fell to ruin since he had taken the Golden Flower to save his wife. First his newborn daughter, then the kingdom's crops, and now this? Were the gods punishing his arrogance for absconding with a sacred relic of the old world? Was he to blame for all of this?

The terrified cries of a child jolted the new parents awake, their minds instantly roused to full alertness. Yet they only had time to glimpse their daughter in the hands of a gnarled old woman, garbed in a cloak of midnight black, two bulging hateful eyes glaring at them before she dropped off the balcony and into the night.

Realization galvanized inside Frederic. No. This was not his doing, but the work of a vile thief. There were always moments when a father felt powerless. But Frederic was not like most fathers, for few had the power of a king. His eyes opened, revealing gray orbs of icy steel. If he could not have his daughter back, then he would still have justice.

"He dares?" As the king rose to his feet, an unsettling terror rippled through the air, akin to a dragon finding its hoard of treasure plundered and stolen. "He dares?"

Stilton stiffened, along with everyone present. In all their years of service, the Royal Guard had seen their king in triumph, in grief, angry, desperate, and determined. But the true rage that now distorted their lord's features had only been seen once before. It wasn't loud. It wasn't violent. It was cold, silent, and inevitable as winter.

Indeed, the king's fury froze him. For a long moment, Frederic did not even draw breath. When was the last time he felt such intense rage? That horrible dreadful night so long ago. It was as if there were a storm inside of him, the kind of storm that could flood the world. Men who were always malicious could always be counted upon to be malicious, furious, and vengeful. But when a benevolent man's patience was broken, the heavens trembled. Even demons run when a good man goes to war.

The Crown of the Lost Princess was fashioned for the precious daughter he had known for only seven days. A crown they had fashioned years before her birth in their expectant hope for an heir, be it daughter or son. A crown that awaited her still. It was the promise of her future, and that promise was the only thing her parents had left of her. A promise of hope. Did Flynn Rider truly think he could play this game with him, stealing his daughter's future for something as banal as coin?

Something in his mind snapped into place, like the loaded spring on a trap, ready to crush any unfortunate creature that wandered into its path. He had felt the same only once before. A part of Frederic died that night, and his distraught Arianna could not even speak for a year. All because of a thief. There was only one path forward. Only one. And he would see it to the end.

"Captain Stilton."

"My liege." The Captain and every man in the room dropped to their knees, heads bowed low, ready for orders.

"My words of reprieve were inordinate and undeserved, and I now recant them." The King declared. "You shall have the command of my bannermen. Assemble all the men you wish from my army and then ride out in pursuit."

"It will be as you command, Your Majesty." Stilton's head bowed low. "He will not escape from me. Not from me."

"He better not, Captain," the King glared. "You failed me once before when I needed you most."

Stilton did not raise his head, for he had no right to meet the eyes of his king. His failure on that fateful night long ago still haunted him. He had the kidnapper in his sights, close enough to glimpse the luminescent golden hair of the princess, and she still slipped through his fingers. The king had trusted Stilton to rescue what was most precious to him, and he failed. So many years since then of facing his king, his men, and himself, knowing that he did less than everything he possibly could.

"My lord, with you as my witness, I thus vow that I will find the thief. I will chase him to the ends of the earth if I must. Your daughter's legacy will be safely returned to Corona. I will not fail you again."

The King nodded, satisfied enough, and then straightened to his full height in the center of the throne room.

"In the name of the ancestors of my family, royal stewards of the land by the grace of the Old Gods, I, King Frederic of Corona, Lord of the Kingdom of the Sun and protector of the realm, hereby charge you to bring justice to the bandit Flynn Rider and all those who shared in his crime. I denounce him and attaint him. I strip him of all citizen protections offered by the courts. I brand him an enemy of the crown and of the realm… and sentence him to death."

So. It begins.

Never push a good man too far. And definitely never push a good man who happens to be a king.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Disney franchise, nor the Tangled film or the TV series. Everything original that you see, such as OCs, is mine.