A/N: This is the second chapter I uploaded today. The previous one is "A King's Decree." Please read that first if you jumped to this one.
Plan C
"There are only four rules to remember: Make the plan. Execute the plan. Expect the plan to go off the rails. Throw away the plan."
– Leonard Snart
"Wow, you get the feeling someone's taking this too personally?" Flynn casually asked as he ducked and weaved through spruce, elm, and pine forest branches. "I swear, it's like no one wants people to make money through crime anymore!"
"That's the fifth patrol that almost caught us, Rider!" Sideburns snarled as they tore after him, barely keeping his voice quiet. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you, stopping to wave at the king himself and make things worse?!"
"Worse?" Flynn merely laughed. "C'mon, we already broke the bank by stealing a royal crown! What's he going to do, hang us twice? Might as well laugh in a king's face while you're at it! Because seriously, where will you find a chance like that again?"
A deadly crossbow bolt flicked Rider's forelock, the master thief barely jerking his head back in time.
"Well, first, you gotta live to see tomorrow." Sideburns gritted his teeth as the trio of thieves picked up the pace. "You better still have a plan, Rider, cuz here we go again…"
Plan? Flynn would not show it, but a growing wave of concern crept through him. Escape from Corona had not gone as planned. Despite his healthy head start, the Royal Guard mobilized quickly and efficiently. They suddenly seemed everywhere; the thieves felt like they couldn't go twenty steps in any direction without stumbling into yet another patrol. Only minutes ago, Flynn and the two brothers finally arrived at where they stashed their horses to find their mounts surrounded by gold uniforms. That was already a disaster, leaving them to outrun the guards on foot.
Flynn regretted leaving Triks behind. In their short time together, the horse he found in Arendelle proved intelligent and loyal, and losing him hurt more than he thought.
If that wasn't enough, they were now severely behind schedule. The final part of their plan was to catch a ship in a southern fishing village. On horseback, the trip was a two-day ride. On foot, with their ship sailing in under a week, every second mattered. And now, they were forced to take a lengthy detour through the forest to lose pursuit.
The majestic forest trees thrived in Corona's golden summers and chilly winters, creating a rich canopy of green. The canopy betrayed no hint of the mayhem beneath. Horses skidded on all four hooves as they rounded a switchback road heading deeper into the forest while the three thieves descended the steep slope at a near-sprint. Rider was in the lead, both twins hot on his heels, as the thieves raced for their freedom.
Through the forest, they ran, ducking left and right, leaping, twisting, and backtracking every which way, even as thick leaves and plants whipped across their faces. The abundance of healthy tree clusters and dense canopies gave them enough momentary cover to keep disappearing from sight. They just had to keep that momentum going.
Eventually, mercifully, the shouts and thundering hooves of the guards fell behind.
Flynn slowed down to a brisk jog as they reached a small clearing, basking in the fresh air and morning sunlight as he fought to get his breath under control. At least he wasn't the pair of forge-bellows that the twins were, gasping like their hearts were about to burst. To give them credit, once they halted beside the large boulder, they did get their breath back rather quickly. Despite the three criminals being in peak physical condition, after rowing across the morning surf, navigating an ancient passage, scaling across the entire roof of the royal palace, and now outrunning a small army on foot nonstop, they were exhausted.
"Woooo… Daily cardio, check!" Flynn panted as he leaned his hand on a tree to steady himself. "Nothing like a steady stream of people who hate your guts to keep the heart pumping, huh?"
"Sure," Sideburns rolled his eyes. "Every arrow's a compliment."
The breathless Flynn couldn't help but laugh, which devolved into a mild coughing fit. "Eh-hem, alright, five minutes to catch our breath, then keep moving."
Patchy grunted something, to which Sideburns nodded. "Right. Still got the purse with our prize?"
"Again, satchel." Flynn groaned as he held it up. The twins merely shook their heads and started doing a few quick stretches to work their muscles and keep the adrenaline flowing. The master thief, though, took the time to admire the tranquil beauty of the forest to steady his mind and heart.
The Whitetail Wood of Corona was known for being a peaceful spot, the picture of serenity. Birds would sing cheerful tunes, and rabbits and deer would skip and play between the earthy old-growth trees. Brooks babbled, and leaves rustled calmly in the breeze. Yes, Whitetail was the perfect place to have a picnic, take a nature hike, and appreciate the beauty of nature, or let your children out to play and have a good time with little chance of them running into anything dangerous.
Such a beautiful vista, a peaceful moment. And nothing could ruin th—what the hell?
Flynn's eyes zeroed in on a pair of wanted posters nailed to a nearby tree. He promptly marched over and ripped one off, scanning it intensely. "Oh, not good, not good, very much the opposite of good!"
"What is it now, Rider?" Sideburns grumbled.
Flynn's arm thrust the poster in their direction. "This! Why in the star's name do so many different kingdoms keep getting my nose wrong?! Look at this, my nose looks like melting candle wax! I mean, come on! What do I have to do to get proper recognition around here? Knock over a building?!"
The twins merely shared another incredulous look. "Who cares? All that bravado about laughing in the king's face, and this freaks you out?"
"It's not just that!" Flynn glanced between his poster and that of the Stabbington Brothers, firmly resolving the artist should be ashamed of himself for getting the twin's ugly mugs right but screwing up perfection. "Listen here, they say we're guilty of high treason. Seriously, treason? We were never part of their subjects! And sure, it lists a bunch of other stuff, but—wait a minute… wanted for stealing the Crown of the Lost… what!?"
"How are you surprised?" Sideburns drawled. "We just did that, remember?"
"Exactly!" Flynn cried. "We only just escaped thirty minutes ago and have been running nonstop! How did the printing press get fresh posters out here before us?"
"That's… actually a good point. Huh." The twin's hostile irritation at Rider vanished, their faces overtaken with genuine bafflement for once. Patchy's jaw was hanging open at an ungainly angle while Sideburns blinked rapidly and scratched his head in thought. "Never really thought about it. I guess stuff like that just happens."
"No, it doesn't!" Flynn snapped in utter exasperation. He glanced back at the misshapen nose. "I swear, the press is all kinds of messed up, and I do not have the emotional bandwidth for it!"
"HERE YOU ARE!"
The trio snapped their eyes up at a nearby rocky hill. From down below, Captain Stilton of the Royal Guard was a majestic sight, tall, his armor polished to a mirror sheen and somewhat blinding in the full sunlight the ridge was enjoying. And, of course, his horse was a snow-white charger with a ludicrously long mane styled into a judge's roll. The stallion's glare was even more intimidating than that of the Captain. Flynn could almost imagine a fierce faceplate closing as the horse sighted in on him.
"Wretched thieving scum!" Stilton bellowed, hefting a loaded crossbow.
While Flynn stared back, the Stabbington Brothers sneered and slowly drew their broadswords, ready for a fight. They knew his reputation, but the three were more than a match for the lone Captain.
But an officer of the king was never alone. At that moment, five lieutenants marched up beside their Captain on their own horses.
Flynn's inner hawk was on edge. Instead of drawing his own sword, he found himself taking half a step back, bracing for a run. The twins were even more tense, gripping their swords tightly and taking a looser stance. The two former navy sailors knew what it meant to see so many officers of rank in one place.
Another mounted member of the guard appeared.
And then another.
And another.
The trio's eyes widened in mounting horror as dozens and dozens of men appeared until a long wave of gold seemed to stretch across the hillside. All mounted calvary, hilariously outnumbering them.
"You cannot escape the king's justice!" The Captain roared from the small army's forefront. "Surrender now, and your trial will be—"
"Whoa, heyheyheywaitwaitwaitwait, I have a question, Cap'n!" Flynn waved a hand irreverently as he held up the poster. "One question, one question! How much is the press paid to get out here faster than your men? I'd like to take notes!"
The gobsmacked look on the Captain's face filled Flynn with such joy as he took off into the woods.
~o~O~o~
Even as Stilton scowled with clenched teeth, the sight of Flynn Rider fleeing into the woods with the princess' crown caused him to stiffen. Old memories rushed forth unbidden, the night of his greatest regret…
Stilton and his squad followed the sound of a crying child through the dark woods. The entire kingdom was on the search, but it was his squad that stumbled across the kidnapper. Even as the terrified wails of the newborn princess pulled at their hearts, it was the only thing that kept them hot on the trail until they found her cottage.
Glowing lanterns in hand, they searched the peaceful domicile in vain, only finding a young raven-haired girl three summers old, clutching a music box. She stared frightfully at Stilton until her wide eyes looked past him. Following her gaze out the door, he spied their hooded quarry, watching from across the river, one arm holding the princess stolen from her cradle.
A fateful moment in Corona's history appeared. The villain was in sight, just within reach. One order, a single charge of horses across the bridge, and the foul rogue would be in chains and the princess rescued…
"Mama?" The girl called. "Mama, you're home!"
And Stilton hesitated. He realized the kidnapper was a mother, living at a warm and humble home in the forest, proving she was a human being like anyone else. And her daughter was calling for her. She looked at the princess with golden hair in her arms, then back to her little girl across the river. A choice was to be made.
The girl took a step forward, holding up the music box. "The pretty music stopped. Can you make it play again?"
The old woman sneered in disgust. She drew a wicked sword and severed the ropes, collapsing the bridge between them.
The music box fell from the girl's hands, shattering into pieces. "Mama, wait! Where are you going? Come back! Come back!"
Clutching the princess, the old woman turned her back and fled into the woods. Never looking back, never to be seen again.
Stilton shook the memory from his head. He had seen the heart of true wickedness that night. For a brief moment, he had believed in a villain's humanity. He believed that, if anything, a mother's love for her child would surely overcome the evil desires of a criminal. He had hesitated, and the villain spurned his faith by abandoning her own child to save herself and whatever plans she had for the princess. Now, Stilton knew there was no humanity in such people, for they were not even people. Because of his mistake that night, the king suffered, and Corona suffered.
No more. Today, he would finally be worthy of his lord's faith again.
The five lieutenants mounted at Stilton's side were chosen from his old squad, the same men who rode with him that night. Looking into their eyes, he saw the same determination for this day. And behind them was two hundred of the king's finest, standing proud and ready. Not since that terrible night had so many loyal subjects rallied together for their king's happiness, just as when they scoured the land for a mythical flower out of love for their queen. And now, they would all ride forth a third time with but a word given. Their presence made him well with pride and humility.
'For the king, and all who watch behind him!'
Captain Stilton unsheathed his prized sword, raising it high above his head. At the signal, his lieutenants sounded their white horns, a mighty resonating chorus that echoed across the forest, heralding the charge of the king's soldiers. His loyal horse, Maxmimus, reared back and whinnied loudly with a resolve that matched his rider.
"To arms, men! Today, we return what was stolen from our king! Today, the Royal Guard reclaims its honor! Today, we make our people proud! Ride now with me! For the throne! For Corona!"
"FOR CORONA!"
"GEE-UP!"
And with that cry, the Captain spurred his mount and rushed headlong, an army of thundering hooves close behind. The trees stood as pillars in a great hall, the viridian roof pierced with golden skylights. Between them, his men charged, their horses, sure and brave as any of his men, picking their way down the gentle slope with the ease and care of old men who have walked the same path for decades. White tails flickered as the deer broke before their charge, scattering to the four winds as the cavalcade rumbled into the forest like thunder beneath the leaves, shaking the earth beneath their tread.
And before them rode Maximus, the White Banner, the great steed of the Captain of the Guard. Noble and fair as any kingly horse, bred from champions, and with a heart as stern and steadfast as his master. It had been said that master and steed were forged of the same steel and worked in the same fire. Truer words could not be spoken of the pair, for their hearts beat as one on this day.
The royal family needed them. Thus, their duty was plain, their charge sure. And this time, no pity or mercy would stay their hand.
~o~O~o~
"Sheesh, the Captain can't seem to take a hint!" Rider cried as the trio fled like the wind. "This isn't a picnic, and I haven't got any jam!"
"Shut up, Rider! This heat is getting too much!" Sideburns tried to snarl, only for his words to come out in gasps. The three thieves were exhausted, running nonstop even as their muscles screamed for mercy, with only the rapidly closing promise of the noose keeping them on their feet.
Worse, every time the trio managed to give their pursuers the slip, the guards always picked up their trail within minutes, as if a magical compass pointed them to their quarry. More likely, the Captain had brought dogs or some other bloodhounds. "I've never seen those gold lightweights so hellbent or efficient before! You better still have a way outta this!"
"Guys, relax!" Flynn laughed. "I always have a plan!"
"Which is?"
"Improvisation! It's my jam!"
"Grraaggh! I hate you!" Trailing behind Rider's back, the twins nodded to each other in furious agreement.
Enough was enough. Laughing in a royal's face? The Stabbington Brothers made that mistake when they deserted the Southern Isles Navy. After the fleet had reclaimed a horde of pirate treasure, the disgruntled twins grabbed as much as they could carry and ran when they next made port. Just before dropping out of sight, they called out at their commander in front of his older siblings, telling him where he could stick that white uniform. They thought it the greatest joke ever, the best way to start their new life.
Except Prince Hans didn't find it as funny as his twelve brothers did. When his charming mask dropped and his steely eyes narrowed at them, the twins knew they had made a mistake. Two years of looking over their shoulder, trusting no one, and sleeping in destitute inns with owners who didn't ask questions. Even then, they'd slit their throats if they knew who was chasing the twins. By the time they finally escaped the Southern Isles' reach, the twins had lost all their stolen gold. But once they were able to breathe easy again, they quickly amassed a lifestyle in the underworld much more suited to their tastes.
The trumpeting horns of the Corona soldiers sounded again, closer than before, sending chills down their spines.
And now, the Stabbington Brothers were being chased by the same level of heat, all because of this airheaded, thrill-seeking pretty boy! The Brothers vowed to make Rider pay if they ever escaped this disaster. And if the Baron despised him even half as much, their future boss probably wouldn't mind if they took the bounty on Rider's head more literally.
The twins slowly grew a matching pair of bloodthirsty grins. The minute they were free of pursuit, oh, how they would take their time gutting this one, savoring every moment of Pretty Boy's cries. Thoughts of the Stabbington Brother's favorite activity brought a fresh surge of energy as they continued to run. Patchy's one good eye gazed thoughtfully at the satchel swinging in the wind at Rider's side. How courteous of Rider to bring the right size for himself!
The man's head suddenly twitched as if hearing a distant sound. Next thing the Brothers knew, Rider spun on his heel and darted off the trail. The twins immediately followed his lead deeper into the woods, ducking under a low-hanging branch and sliding along a patch of bare dirt. This wasn't the first random detour they had taken to put more distance between them and the Captain. Despite his glib remarks, Rider clearly had superior experience in evading pursuit, so they followed his direction. But once he outlived his usefulness…
The trio of thieves, running for their lives, skidded to an abrupt halt when they were met face-to-face with the last sight any thief wanted to see. The sight of a stone wall surrounding them on three sides, easily thrice as tall as any of them, blocking their path.
"Dead end?!" Sideburns cried, desperate. "A BLASTED DEAD END?!"
A horn sounded in the distance, followed by the unmistakable thunder of approaching hooves heading straight in their direction.
"Alright, alright, lemme think," Flynn was tense. His eyes frantically darted around, looking for an answer, a way out. The stone was much too smooth and sheer for anyone to climb, at least not without… He stilled, eyes widening in realization, and he chuckled. "What stands in the way becomes the way… of course! Yes! This is perfect! The ticket out!"
"Mind sharing before the gold pigs catch up?" Sideburns pressed.
"It's simple!" Rider was grinning widely. "You two, form a human ladder, give me a boost up, and then, just like Step 3 at the castle, I lower you a rope! The guards can't chase anyone past a rocky gorge like this!"
A grunt from Patchy.
"Yeah, good point." Sideburns nodded, holding out a hand. "Give us the purse first. Just so you don't get any ideas."
"Wha—okay, one… satchel." Flynn corrected for the umpteenth time. "And two, what. After everything we've been through this morning, inviting you to the heist of the century, getting inside the palace, and making off with a royal crown, you still have no faith in me?"
Sideburns merely raised an eyebrow. "How stupid do you think we are, Pretty Boy?"
"On a scale of one to ten?"
Another horn sounded. Even closer.
"Alright, fine!" Flynn sighed as he removed the climbing rope before impishly dropping the satchel in Sideburn's hand. "Happy?"
Responding with only a glare, Sideburns hooked the bag to his belt and the twins got to work. Patchy entrenched himself at the base of the cliff before his brother climbed atop his shoulders.
The two former sailors held steadfast in maintaining the position, even as Flynn shimmied up over them. None too gently, mind you. After the lip they gave him, Rider seemed to have no problem with letting his boots dig into their sides as he climbed, nor with planting his foot in Sideburn's face to boost himself up. Once he had a grip on the ledge, Flynn hoisted himself atop solid ground with practiced ease.
"Your turn now, Pretty Boy," Sideburns gestured. "Toss the rope!"
The thief didn't move. Instead, to the twin's shock, he pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing his satchel. "Sorry, friends. Afraid this is where we part ways."
"What?" Sideburns' eyes bulged, his free hand patting his belt, alarmed to see the satchel back in Flynn's grasp. His horror only grew as he watched the climbing rope being put away. "Rider, don't you dare! We had a plan!"
"No, you had a plan." Flynn retorted. "A plan where you thought you could sell me and my 'stupid, pansy haircut' out to the Baron."
Blood seeped from the Stabbington Brother's faces, recognizing their own words. "H-How did you…?"
"Because you forgot one crucial thing, fellas: I'm Flynn Rider." The master thief gestured as if stating the obvious. "You think I'd pull a job like this without knowing who I was working with? Or that I wouldn't overhear a pair of amateurs discussing their backstabbing next to an open window? Nah, that's a hard pass for me, but do give the Baron my regards!"
Spotting the horses fast approaching the twins, Flynn darted off with the royal treasure. "Best of luck, friends! Olly olly taxes free!"
"You two! Surrender in the name of the king!"
The twins snarled. "RIDERRRRR!"
The hunters had cornered the feral coyotes, but the hawk still soared free.
~o~O~o~
Sometimes, Flynn wondered if he should make all the guys who'd sworn to kill him fight it out for the privilege.
Norris always had the best intel anyone could ask for and more. After confirming that the Stabbington Brothers were, unfortunately, the only available locals for the job, Flynn's old friend shared everything he had on them. Criminal records, weapon training, past clients, what time they ate breakfast, and even their favorite brothel girls in three different kingdoms. But what stood out most was the twin's repeated attempts to join the Baron's crime syndicate over the past year.
Flynn Rider was anything but blind. In fact, he sometimes seemed more aware than should have been possible for a human being. Coupled with Norris' info, it was an easy guess that the Stabbington Brothers saw him as their golden opportunity for entry. And it had been even easier for his sharp ears to overhear them plotting back at the palace. He hadn't even been that far from the window. The twins weren't the first to underestimate him and wouldn't be the last.
And there was no chance he'd just allow someone to hand him over, gift-wrapped with a neat little bow like some prize! Besides, as powerful as the vindictive Baron was, he didn't scare Flynn even half as much as his daughter. The thief shivered. A reunion with She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was the last thing he wanted.
As for the Stabbington Brothers, well, desperate times, desperate measures. Flynn had hoped that the payoff for a royal crown was enough to convince them to be professional. Splitting the profits down the middle would still leave both sides insanely rich, and it wasn't like Flynn couldn't steal more gold in the future. But no, no, no, no. Apparently, that was only for intelligent people like him. If those two had just stuck to the plan, they would've been safely out of Corona by now! If only the twins hadn't known about the ship to Arendelle, Flynn could've just given them the slip when they weren't looking. Instead, he was forced to allow himself to be seen by the guards so he could lose the treacherous Brothers in the chaos.
And besides, they had insulted his hair. Criminals or not, making fun of Flynn's hair was against the law. That's how he knew they'd end up in jail for it.
Flynn slowed to a jog and then a full rest against a downed log, wiping off a sweat. Three minutes, steady his breathing, then keep moving. The young man could finally allow himself to relax. Despite their frantic running, Flynn had a method to the madness. He had been baiting the Corona soldiers into chasing them every which way. Armies were large and cumbersome, and there was only so far two hundred men on horseback could chase a nimble mouse everywhere without tripping over each other. Little by little, more and more soldiers had fallen behind, lost in the confusion without any clue of the latest whereabouts of their prey.
Fortune was indeed with him, leading him to a dead end that he alone could escape while leaving the guards occupied with the twins. He wasn't safe just yet, but this was all he needed. His pursuers would have to leave their horses behind to get over a cliff that smooth and sheer, and he'd be gone by then. The worst was over.
The thief reached into his satchel and wolfed down an apple and the two slices of bread he had wisely kept for a heist snack. His waterskin was almost empty, just enough for a swallow and wiping the remaining drops over his brow. Without the travel supplies on his horse, his only problem now was thirst, but a forest with this many animals would have plenty of fresh water. Hopefully, even fruit, or more likely, some rabbits if he had the time.
Flynn reached back into his satchel, ignoring the obscene wanted poster, and finally looked at his prize, admiring it under the sunlight. The Crown of the Lost Princess. Gorgeous. He could live comfortably for a long time with this and still have plenty to put away for his dream island. "May me and my coin purse live happily ever after," he chuckled.
It occurred to Flynn that he should send Norris a decent portion of the payout as a grateful thanks for the golden intel and all the—his hawk screeched.
Instinct seized control and Flynn dropped low before he even knew it, rolling under the log, just as a series of crossbow bolts buried themselves right where his head had been a split-second ago.
"He dodged?!" A voice sounded from the trees. "How could he—reload! Second volley!"
"There! In his hand!" A familiar voice bellowed. "He has the crown! Forward, full speed!"
The Captain and his lieutenants suddenly burst through the foliage. With horses.
"You've gotta be…!" Flynn growled in disbelief. He shoved the crown back into his satchel and scrambled into a mad run. The chase was on again.
'Dumb, Flynn, you forgot! Officers of rank would know their lands better than you or the grunts; they probably knew another way up around the cliff!'
"Retrieve that satchel at any cost!"
"YES, SIR!"
Right, that was his cue to pick up the pace.
The Captain and his old squad rapidly proved to be elite riders, as well as experts of the crossbow. Even while steering their mounts at high speeds, they reloaded with remarkable speed and fired with deadly precision. The volley of bolts seemed unending, with barely four heartbeats between them.
Although only five of them remained, Flynn was still at a clear disadvantage. Even he couldn't outrun such well-bred horses on foot for long.
And yet run he did. Flynn moved like the wind, faster than a bird. Even winded and shaken, he was grateful for his body's adrenaline-fueled autopilot, guided by instinct. Conscious thought became unnecessary. Rushing, dashing, leaping, flowing, weaving, and maneuvering through the dense forest in ways that horses could not. The master thief ducked and dodged every shot like a dancing acrobat, as an arrow to the head would be rather annoying. Nothing slowed him, for he could no longer afford even the slightest mistake.
Flynn was pushing himself harder than he had in over a year. The burn in his muscles was becoming unbearable, and he was running out of time.
But fortune smiled on Flynn once more. Not far ahead, he spied a thick tangle of trees in a narrow grove, their branches splitting low towards the ground into twisted knots. Smiling broadly, Flynn summoned one more burst of speed, raced forth, and nimbly dived through a small opening in the branches, hitting the ground on the other side and rolling back onto his feet, resuming his run.
Sure enough, the guards were not so lucky, quickly pulling the reigns to prevent a crash.
"Surprise, surprisers!" Flynn called. Wait, surprisers? Oh yeah, definitely a word now!
"It's too thick! The horses can't get through!"
"He's escaping!"
"Not from me!"
Looking back, Flynn's eyes widened as the Captain and his horse, the White Banner, cleared the seven-foot tree branches in a mighty leap. He was still coming after him, galloping at full speed! "Ohhhh… Come on!"
~o~O~o~
As the thief renewed his sprint, Stilton glanced back at his men, still trapped behind. His eyes returned to Rider, and he gritted his teeth. Two hundred of the king's men, his own squad, and his comrades of twenty years were boxing their prey in, yet Rider still outmaneuvered them all! But it wasn't over yet. Not as long as the Captain of the Guard still remained.
"It's up to us now, Maximus!" He cried with purpose.
Maximus neighed loudly, redoubling his galloping charge after their quarry.
Stilton grinned eagerly, zeal and determination bleeding through. Rider still had a healthy distance between them, but Maximus finally had a clear path and rapidly gained on him. The thief had nowhere left to go. The Captain had memorized this forest after his many fruitless searches for the Lost Princess, and he knew that Rider was heading straight for a cliff with a kilometer drop. He could almost see it in the distance and knew the thief had also realized the trap.
Too late.
Stilton aimed his crossbow, ready to finish this, and reached at his saddle's quiver for another arro—empty?! Stilton looked down and realized with horror he was out of ammo. No! His eyes snapped back to the thief ahead of him—
A cloak of ebon silk flowed from the kidnapper's shoulders as she fled, a strand of golden hair trailing from her arms in the night wind…
No! Stilton shook the image from his eyes. Not again, never again! That was the past, and this was today!
'His Majesty will not be denied. Today, I repay my debt.'
The Captain of the Guard stowed his crossbow and instead unsheathed his sword. Rider immediately stiffened and looked over his shoulder. Stilton felt a surge of vindication at the flash of panic in the thief's eyes, sensing what was coming.
"We got him now, Maximus! Run him down! Gee-up!"
His champion stallion heeded his rider's intent with zeal, and the White Banner's thundering legs became a blur, his speed like an arrow. Stilton bent down like a crouching lion, giving less resistance to the biting wind. The distance between them and the scrambling Rider drastically diminished in almost no time. He could nearly make out the stitching on his vest.
They were almost on him, the enemy of the king nearly within his grasp! Anticipation filled Stilton's heart like never before, and his free hand snapped the reigns, urging for just a little more speed. Almost… almost…!
The Captain's sword reared back, a gift from the royal family to his grandfather, the sharpened edge gleaming under the sunlight, ready to deliver the king's wrath.
"This is the end for you!"
"Nope!" Rider suddenly laughed. "I choose life!"
Without warning, the thief darted up a nearby boulder, snagged a vine hanging from a massive tree, and swung high into the air.
"This is what you get if you want to chase Flynn Rider!" The thief triumphantly cried.
In one sudden move, Rider's momentum flew him around the entire tree, where he came soaring right for the Captain, kicked him off Maximus' saddle, and galloped away with Stilton's own horse.
The Captain lay stunned on the ground for several seconds. Did Rider just…? It happened so fast, he didn't have time to react! He snarled furiously at the indignity as he leaped back to his feet but remembered it still wasn't over. Rider had no idea what a foolish mistake he just made.
~o~O~o~
Yep, that proved it. He was still awesome.
"Alright, back on course!" Elation swept through Flynn as he snapped the reins, soothing the earlier ache in his muscles. What a move! The tables had turned, and now he had the finest horse in the kingdom! He'd make it to the ship to Arendelle in no time! "Hyah, boy! Let's fly—!"
He sensed a great disturbance in the horse.
Sparks flew as iron-shod hooves skidded off rocks half-buried in the thick, rich loam. Rider was nearly thrown forward over the horse's head and instead careened his forehead into a neck even stiffer than the Captain's. With slow, tense intent, the horse turned its head until a great fury-reddened eye stared back at the thief who had the temerity to ride him.
Flynn rubbed his forehead. After running at breakneck speeds for the past hour, the abrupt halt in momentum left him a bit dazed. And more than a bit irritated when he still had a speedy getaway to make. "Oh, what now? Come on, stop with the stopping!"
Something about the horse's irate stare clicked in his memory. Oh no. It was the same temperamental stallion that tried to attack him after Flynn's brawl at the Honeycomb.
The flared eyes of the enraged horse suddenly fixed onto his arm. Flynn followed the gaze to his satchel, still carrying the royal crown. Remembering its previous master's orders, the white steed craned his neck and snapped his teeth at the strap before Flynn quickly yanked it out of reach.
"No, that's not a carrot!" Flynn snapped, pushing back the horse's muzzle. But the White Banner was unrelenting. "Hey, no! Not cool, not cool, not cool!"
It wasn't often that a palace horse pranced, but Maximus was more than ready. No indignity was too great to dissuade a true patriot from his duty, and the White Banner of the Captain knew his! He gave a whinny of triumph as his teeth closed around the satchel's strap, struggling to yank it away from the thief, even as he attempted to buck the rogue clean over the treetops!
"No, stop it, you overgrown fleabag!" After everything he went through, pulling off the greatest heist in Corona's history and outrunning an entire army of soldiers, Flynn Rider found himself in a ridiculous tug-of-war with a stupid horse of all things, spinning in place as they fought over the royal crown. This was not how he would lose his prize! "Stop it! Give it to me! Give! Me! It!"
TWANG!
The taught leather snapped from both their grips, remarkably still intact, and hurled through the air in a high arc. Both Flynn and Maximus froze in horror. The two hadn't noticed how closely they had danced to the cliff's edge in their struggle. They silently watched as the satchel and its precious cargo flew off the precarious drop…
And right towards a slim tree leaning out over the drop, the earth beneath it having caved away at some point, but the tree still held firm. The satchel's sash looped around one of the thin, outthrust branches. Its fall was momentarily arrested, but it slid down the branch, slowly beckoned by gravity closer towards a kilometer fall. Flynn and Maximus tensed at the sight, subconsciously clutching each other in a mutually desperate prayer.
Slowly… slowly… the satchel came to a rest at the branch's edge, the old tree holding that precious cargo secure.
The two breathed in sweet relief, all tension seeping from their lungs. They shared an animated look and nodded in sync; that had been too close!
Their breathing slowly steadied as calmness returned. Their mutual stare held.
…
…
…
Flynn moved first, scrambling off the saddle and over the horse's head. But Maximus was no newborn foal and reacted instantly, neck outstretched as he chomped onto the human's collar. Flynn was yanked off his feet by his own momentum and slammed onto his back, the horse turning to drag his new prisoner away. The master sleight-of-hand slipped free and yanked hard on the stallion's front legs, bringing the animal to the ground. The brief respite was all he needed as he sprinted for his prize.
Where ordinary people saw danger, Flynn saw opportunity. In this case, with the Captain's horse so aggressively uncooperative, he saw his new chance for escape. The satchel was hanging precariously, but that was nothing to him. A quick shimmy across, grab the bag, use the rope inside to swing far down, and bingo, he was home free!
The master thief reached the hanging tree and smoothly moved across, his balance perfect from years of running across rooftops. The branch holding the satchel shook from his steps, and Flynn nimbly slid down to crawl across from under. The satchel slid off the edge right as he reached it, but quick reflexes had his boot swing out to catch the sash and toss it back into his hand.
"HA!" Flynn cried out in triumph, his laugh echoing off the cliff as he righted himself atop the tree trunk and dug out his rope. "Someone grab the soap because it's time for a clean getaway!"
The handsome thief's laughter was cut short as his inner hawk cried out in alarm. The tree suddenly lurched, shifting as a massive new weight climbed aboard. When Flynn glanced back, he felt mortal terror grip his heart.
Against all reason and instinct, the blasted horse was trying to follow him onto the tree! With blazing eyes locked on Rider, Maximus grasped at the trunk with his forelegs as he shimmied towards his foe. He neither cared nor noticed how the old, withering tree rocked and trembled violently under the one thousand pounds of a muscular, thoroughbred horse.
"Whoa, wait, wait, wait!" Flynn frantically waved his hands. "You can't come out here, you'll get us both killed!"
"Haha! Well done, Maximus!" A familiar voice called as the Captain and his lieutenants came running out of the woods. "You've got him cor—wait, what are you doing?! Maximus, no! HALT!"
The horse's ears shot up and his movement halted at once, glancing back at his master.
"Yes, yes, listen to him!" Flynn urged. "This thing can't—!"
CRACK.
Everyone froze at the sound. Another crack followed, and the entire tree lurched down. Flynn's arms slumped, resigned, and looked up at the sky. "Oh, so it's that kind of day, huh?"
A third crack, almost like a cannon blast, as the old tree completely snapped from the base and both thief and palace horse plummeted with frightening speed.
~o~O~o~
Later…
Flynn opened his eyes and pleaded for air.
In and out. In and out. His chest begged for breath, longed for the oxygen to soothe his dying lungs that desperately needed a lifeline. In and out. His head ached all over and felt heavy, like a thick syrup had been poured down his ears and replaced all the fluids around his skull. As his vision slowly returned, the world looked lopsided and crooked, as if tipping over and swaying back and forth. He wondered when they had painted the grass blue and how they got the sky those soothing earth tones and leaf-green shades.
A spark of awareness went off among the murky sludge of his thoughts, and numerous signals from across his body suddenly registered. Nothing was under his feet, his body felt exposed and inverted, and his sense of balance was all over the place. Flynn realized he was the one swaying like a broken wind chime. Like swift daggers, his eyes scanned his surroundings as quickly as possible.
Like a bat, the thief was hanging upside down past the trees but still high above the ground. His rope was wrapped loosely around his ankle, the other end having been caught somewhere past the tree canopy. Luck, ever the kindly lifeguard of heroes and fools. And Flynn Rider was often luckier than a turkey that survived Thanksgiving.
Relief swept through him as the realization of his miraculous survival sank in, but Flynn knew he couldn't rest on his laurels yet. He reached carefully up to the rope wrapped around his ankle. 'Carefully, easy, don't want to overdo it…' He barely managed to get a grip on the rope before its temporary hold on his boot slid off.
"Whew. Well, that could've been worse."
Three seconds later, Flynn's eyes widened in realization. "No, wait! Murphy, wait, I didn't mean it!"
The rope snapped, and Flynn fell once again. Lady Luck had been dancing alongside him for most of his life. But every now and then, the music slows down.
This time, nothing saved him from the unwelcoming ground.
~o~O~o~
Flynn did not move. He barely breathed. Nearly fifteen minutes passed before his awareness worked through the daze. His free hand felt around, fingertips grazing dirt and grime directly beneath him.
'Urgh. Hurts. Get up, Flynn.'
He began to push himself to his feet when—
"ARRRRGHHH, pain! Very high-level pain!" Flynn collapsed, strangling the scream to a harsh sob as he lay on the ground. The sting from his arm was sharp, so very, very sharp, like a razor cutting clean through him and exposing his bones to open air. He was almost convinced a butcher's hook was digging into his shoulder! It made him want to black out, to surrender to unconsciousness and make the pain go away…
Pain is not a hindrance. It reminds us we are still breathing. Listen to its cries. Use it. And then learn from it.
With watering eyes and gritted teeth, Flynn focused. He stilled his movement, powered through the distractions of his pain, and instead followed it as he checked himself over.
His right shoulder was dislocated.
Flynn clenched his jaw but pressed on. This wasn't the first time he suffered serious injury throughout his adventures. You couldn't allow yourself to think; just let experience take control, deal with it before it becomes worse, and then you could think all you wanted afterward.
Grabbing a stick from a nearby bush to bite down on, Flynn gently positioned himself at the right angle. His other hand tenderly gripped the right spot, and his arm reared up. This wouldn't be pretty. 'Don't think, just press—Grrrmmpf!'
Flynn doubled over, his face contorting through different levels of pain, nearly chewing through the wood. After what seemed like an eternity, the blinding pain passed to a steady yet dull ache, though agony returned if he even tried to move. But at least he could walk.
And with the immediate need now passed, Flynn's usual thoughts caught up with a vengeance.
"MMmmmm... crap, that hurts! Yeeeep, that definitely hurts and I think I'm about to hyperventilate. Whether in panic or in rage is still up for debate, place your bets, Rider! But hey, look on the bright side! You survived falling off a cliff and took dropping out of sight to a whole new level! Man, I've brushed with Death so often I should start giving him high-fives when I pass. Gyyaaaaah, that still hurts! Okay, sure, I'm awesome. Now stop making me prove it!"
Even as he rambled, Flynn knew he was just trying to ignore the situation with his shoulder. Storybooks and theater dramas made it look like the hero could just pop back their dislocated limb into place and be good to go. In reality, Flynn knew that a dislocated shoulder still needed a proper sling for up to a week, but his emergency bandages were back on Triks' saddle. Even then, it could take up to four months to regain full function. On top of this, depending on the severity, the shoulder could be more prone to dislocation for many years.
Oh, and if that wasn't enough, after having dangled upside-down for who knew how long, Flynn needed time to let his blood resume its natural flow through his body. His sense of balance was unsteady, and the pressure behind his eyes was certainly not welcome.
Worst of all, he had no food, supplies, medicine, or transportation, and now he had this injury. And after climbing through the royal palace and trying to outrun mounted calvary for hours, Flynn was exhausted. He needed to get his strength back and let his shoulder settle. He now had no choice but to find shelter and rest for most of the day, which would cost precious time. At this rate, it would take a miracle for him to reach the ship in time!
Gods, forget having a bad day! Flynn was sure his entire season was ruined! He mentally cursed the Stabbington Brothers in three different languages for forcing him to set off the alarm.
But the prodding sting from his shoulder, yet another undeniable setback, forced Flynn to remember that he alone started this mess, much as he hated to admit it. If he hadn't overplayed his hand after letting the Captain get under his skin, he wouldn't have needed the twins in the first place.
'Face it, Flynn. You were sloppy this past week, and now you've hit a low point with a bad injury. The danger might be over now, but you still have a long way to the—'
His hawk cried out in warning again. The whinny of a horse reached his ears, and Flynn's hair stood on end.
No.
No way.
It couldn't be... not now…
His head turned like a wheel upon an axel. There, through the trees, a flash of white in the sun. As a snort came through the trees, Flynn ducked and slid deeper into the undergrowth. Hooves thudded duly against the thick, rich loam, then pattered out with another thick snort.
'Oh, son of a… how is that damn horse still here?!'
Somehow, much to Flynn's outrage, the Captain's horse had not only survived the fall but appeared utterly unharmed. The master thief was lucky to walk away from the kilometer drop with only a dislocated shoulder, but the cumbersome, thousand-pound horse landed without even a scratch? That was beyond unfair!
It glowered. The horse had a scowl on its rubbery lips, those glaring eyes flicking back and forth as it sniffed around a bush. Not just any bush, Flynn realized with a rush.
Maximus paused, then bent down and sniffed at the same stick the thief used for his teeth while fixing his shoulder. Oh, no. The horse's eyes flared in recognition and snapped straight up, back on the hunt, sure of the trail.
'Gotta move, gotta move, GOTTA MOVE!'
Rallying what little strength he had, Flynn ran for his life. He had to get away, he needed to hide! He was in no condition for another prolonged chase. Stealth was his only hope. He couldn't afford even for the horse to see him! If it glimpsed him even once, he would never be left alone! Flynn needed to lose his pursuer before that happened!
A furious whinny behind him and the thunder of hoofbeats, racing to where he sensed Flynn's last position! It just wouldn't give up!
'Ah, why why why?!'
No man can outrun a horse over a short distance, but a man can fit through spaces much tighter than a horse could. Maximus had to detour around trees and deal with shrubbery, trying to tear the skin off his legs while the man practically sailed between the trees.
The scream of equine fury behind him was music to his ears. He bought himself a few minutes, but it wasn't much. He could see the horse sniffing around again as if it were part-bloodhound. Suddenly, Flynn realized how the guards had kept locating him and the twins no matter what direction they took. The last time anyone had chased him so relentlessly was that Vorhaven quartermaster with the worst manicure ever. And that was bad news for him.
'Just keep going!'
The thief moved like a shadow, swift yet unseen. Every step was calculated, every deliberate move a choice, every touch planned out. But even as Flynn's pace doubled, his lungs burned, his shoulder screamed, and his heart fit to burst. He was losing strength, feeling like a fly traveling through honey. His blood pulsed behind his eyes, still not recovered from his vertically inverted nap. Footing was getting harder to come by, but he could not allow himself to trip. If slight movement jarred his shoulder, falling on it would be unbearable.
The Captain's horse whinnied; it found Flynn's trail again. This was bad, very, very bad! With his shoulder and exhaustion, chances of escape were dropping by the second. For a moment, he feared it was no longer possible.
Impossible is what makes it worth doing.
Flynn inhaled sharply at the memory of his idol's words.
Only the fearless can be truly great. Those who are willing to take the first step, a leap of faith, and face the surprise of the unknown. Seek the desire that is greater than yourself. Never stop reaching for the day when you can test your true potential and show what you are made of.
Even as he ran for his life, the man couldn't help but smile. Yes, that was right! He was Flynn Rider! He had been through a hundred rough spots before, and today would be no different!
As if rewarded for his conviction, his eyes were drawn to a shady overhang of green vines against an enormous rock wall, and his heart soared. He knew this plant; he had used its strong floral smell in the past! If it could cover his scent from dogs, it would easily do the same for horses!
He lunged forth and made to bury himself amongst the vines and drape their scent over—whoa!
Flynn barely kept from falling over when he encountered no resistance past the green vines. Blinking, he lifted a portion of the odd curtain to discover, to his delight, an opening in the rock wall. A cave. He found a cave to hide, concealed by a veil of scented vines! This was even better!
Hearing Maximus approaching, Flynn grabbed a pebble with his good arm and hurled it at a tree further off, hoping it would draw the horse away. He slipped inside the cave and hid behind the closest rock, willing silence from every fiber of his body.
'Hidden like a secret, quiet as a sunset.'
His breathing slowed, but his heart hammered in his chest. Loud, louder. The horse trotted nearer, stopped, and snuffled the ground.
This had to work. Flynn's mind raced, not sure how much he had left in him. He could see the blasted beast's silhouette through the vines, backlit by the westering sun. Perfect, that meant the sun was falling on the vines, and they would be at their leafiest. He could still smell the fragrance of the tiny, delicate blossoms. Hopefully, the faint breeze flowing through the curtain would draw his scent away.
Maximus gave a snort, his head raising and ears cocked. He gave a loud whinny, which seemed to be answered from a distance, before trotting off. He paused once, head shifting side to side, before giving a derisive snort and rushing away.
'That's right… on your way…'
Flynn didn't dare move or breathe for several minutes. Then, he smelled a new scent, and a faint grin touched his lips. Manure. Well, that damned horse wouldn't be coming back here for a while at least.
The horse had missed him. Anxiety left Flynn in a great rush, filled with exhausted relief, and he rubbed his sweat-stained face, his legs giving way slightly. Even as he tried to remain silent, he couldn't help a quiet giggle bubbling up from his taxed lungs. It was finally over. He gave them the slip! Trouble had come for him at every angle, and he still made it through after all!
Over the years, he had been in all kinds of tough scrapes. But even when he took some nasty hits like today, the master thief still escaped every time through skill, instinct, planning, and, failing those, luck. Flynn had learned over the years that Lady Luck clearly had a soft spot for him. While she didn't always come through for him and sometimes even toyed with him, she never abandoned him.
Flynn sat down, exhausted, ready for a nap at last.
But then, another scent tickled him. Fresh air, like the forest outside. No, it seemed even fresher, crisp, and juicier than a forest. It smelled like when one poked their head out during a day of healthy rainwater to breathe in the purified and refreshing air. And there was more, like a mix of delicious honeydew, golden sunlight (how does one even smell sunlight?), and fresh-cut grass.
Breathing it in seemed to clear his lungs and airway wonderfully; a second wind filled his limbs, and even his hawk perked up. The man felt oddly drawn to investigate, tempted by the prospect of a more refreshing rest. Glancing around, he discovered that the cave tunneled further in and glimpsed a ray of sunlight at the end. It made Flynn smile. He wouldn't have to go back in Maximus' direction if there was another way out.
Negotiating through the dark tunnel, Flynn shielded his tired eyes as he emerged into the light of a grotto. And was struck speechless by the sight before him.
It was more than a small hidden valley. It was like another treasure. Golden sunlight streamed over tall cliffs, trees a lush and vibrant green grew in their light, shrubs of purest viridian crowded together, each seeking the light. Grass spread in a greensward along a path beneath the cliffs, smooth and even as a road. Small boulders lined its edge as it ran along the inside of the nearly circular little cleft or canyon, hidden in the hills from prying eyes.
But it was the tower that held his sight and bewitched him with its promise of sanctuary.
Tall and straight, slender as a willow wand, with a broad and tall tip. The turret top was steeply roofed, but even in the sun, he could see an expansive window that gazed out upon this little patch of paradise and made him wonder anew at the richness of this place. The waterfall behind the tower poured a steady stream into a sparkling mist. The brook babbled beside the wide green path, flowing towards, then under the green, plunging into some sunken hollow or hidden river. The air of mystery and wonder that hung about the place was more than he could resist.
It was like a dream.
The tranquility washed over Flynn, and he smiled with both delight and relief. An abandoned tower in a hidden grove, with a roof over his head and possibly even a bed. He eyed the curtains at the top window, helpful in fashioning a sling for his arm. He couldn't have asked for better shelter to hide and rest, and he thanked all the lucky stars who always seemed to watch over him.
Despite the exhaustion, even his inner hawk felt unusually interested. Almost insistently so, more than he had felt in years.
And so, Flynn Rider approached the tower. Unaware of how much his decision would change the course of destiny.
As he drew closer, he couldn't help but marvel at the slice of paradise that grew all around the tower. In all his travels, he had never seen grass so green. Places like this made Flynn long for his dream of an island. Safe from the world, comfortable, and just the right amount of luxury. This was the kind of scenery he hoped to have for himself. One day, he would have a place just like this.
Honestly, who wouldn't want to live in a place like this?
Flynn's smile tapered into a frown as he reached the tower base. After circling around, the thief quickly found the entrance, but it had apparently caved in long ago. Covered in the thickest vines yet and stuffed tight with rocks. How ironic that the protection he sought made it difficult for him to enter. It wouldn't be easy, especially with his arm. At least this confirmed the tower had been abandoned for years. No sane person would spend several hours sealing their home like this daily.
It was strange, though. Upon closer look, the stones barring the entrance were stacked together by hand. Why would—?
His ears heard a whinny in the distance. The horse was coming back! 'For the love of...! Would you just give it a rest so I can rest?!'
The horse could still miss the veil of vines, but he couldn't take that chance. Not until he was completely safe. Realizing the only way inside with so little time, Flynn mentally swore a litany of curses and took out his climbing pitons.
Twenty minutes later, the climb was still torture.
No, literally. What had he been thinking?
His shoulder throbbed with every beat of his heart. Only by inordinately favoring his other arm had he prevented any further damage. But it still slowed his climb immensely, and now his other arm, exhausted as the rest of him, was begging for relief from carrying his weight.
Usually, the master thief could scale a tower like this in less than three minutes. Now, only Flynn's skill and experience kept the labored climb from taking a full hour. He couldn't hold the hammer with that hand anymore and had to use them like improvised ice-climbing picks. He was absolutely done with this damned climb.
"Stupid horse… stupid twins… stupid Captain…! I hate your stupid faces!"
Still, he was nearing the window now. As much as it hurt, you could never put a price on safety from capture. Escape and a good rest were so close now.
Flynn fought to keep from blacking out. His body had long since passed its limits. The pressure in his head was mounting, and his very bones felt like lead. Not yet… almost… almost…
"This place… better have… good liability insurance… because I really don't want to fall again."
Oh, thank all the gods, his hand finally found the balcony's edge. Now, just for the final push. Flynn strained, pulled, and sobbed quietly with effort as he hauled himself and his prize up over the lip one-handed.
And then he rolled over, tucking carefully to avoid hitting his battered shoulder, came to his feet, and slammed the window shutters closed.
He was up. He was safe.
He was done.
"Ahhhhhh… I made it. Don't know how I made it, but I made it…" Air exploded from his lungs as he stepped back from the window. Criminy, he felt so heavy. Flynn took off his satchel and peeked inside at his prize, smiling tiredly at the shine of gold and gleaming jewels. "Just us now, gorgeous. Safe and sound at last."
Sometimes, life-changing events and world-shattering affairs can happen without warning. And Flynn's exhausted mind and body made him careless.
He had climbed through the window without scanning inside, nor taking note of how the colorful paint and freshly cleaned furniture suggested the tower already had a loyal tenant. And Flynn didn't quite register his hawk's warning in time before a presence dropped from the rafters and whacked his head with a frying pan.
CLANG!
The satchel dropped from his hands. Stars burst from his eyes. The man twitched, his face frozen as he swayed on his feet. "Never mind… everyone take five…"
All went dark, and Flynn collapsed bonelessly to the floor.
"Aiieeeeeeeeeeee! They found us!" A voice squeaked. "Hide and seek, Pascal! Hide and seek!"
After a long and harrowing chase, a fateful meeting has occurred. And nothing will ever be the same again.
Happy New Year, everyone! This chapter was an incredible thrill to write. I especially enjoyed writing Captain Stilton in this chapter. His deeper motives, his roused righteousness, and steadfast loyalty were surprisingly fun to explore! I almost wanted Flynn dead myself!
Special thanks to my friend and beta, DarkDragonFires12, as well as to my other dear friend, Vyrexuviel, who helped me work out a few toughies in this chapter.
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.