Midwinter Prompt #8: Living the Dream (Tangled)
Title: Living the Dream
Author: JMetropolis
Prompt: Not-So-Bleak Midwinter prompt #8 (fireplace)
Fandom: Tangled
Characters & Pairings: Eugene Fitzherbert, Rapunzel, the King and Queen
Rating & Warnings: T for innuendo
Word Count: 800
Summary: Flynn had wanted a castle; Eugene was living in one.
Living the Dream
Flynn had been transient. He never stayed in one place long enough to let his past catch up with his present. Eugene now had a home. Here, Eugene put down his roots. It was his first permanent residence and what a residence it was. It offered decadent and dependable meals, sweeping views and lavishly decorated expanses.
Flynn had once wished for solitude. Eugene now interacted with the same several dozen denizens on a daily basis. By now he had learned all their names. He knew their interests and their hobbies. By now, they all respected him. He was the Prince Consort. They no longer worried that he would take something of value, at the top of that heap had been the Princess' virtue. By now some of the inhabitants of this grand domicile had even started to like him. He knew this because they sometimes included him in an impromptu game of cribbage or laughed at his jokes, or prepared his favorite dish for dinner or left an extra mint on his pillow. He had not won everyone over, but he knew it was only a matter of time. They were only human after all and could only resist his undeniable charm for so long. Time was assuredly on his side.
Castle living was not without its faults. The first time that he had awoken in the Princess' bedchamber, in their bedchamber, he had to quickly retrieve the covers that had been thoughtlessly abandoned on the parquet floor next to the bed so he could cover himself and his satiated princess who lay sleeping upon his chest. The predawn visit had been unexpected to Eugene. No one had ever bothered to light the fireplace in his old accommodations so that he too could wake up in a warm, cozy room. Apparently, the chambermaids were more attentive to the Princess' comfort than they had been to his. Had they walked in just half an hour earlier both tasks -- covering his modesty and lighting the fireplace -- would have been exceedingly more difficult for all involved.
Eugene now had parents. He had long given up on that childhood dream, but it had organically materialized before he even realized it. The King had taken to calling him son and seemed to really enjoy Eugene's company. The King especially liked playing backgammon with Eugene. They would play in one of the parlors. They would start after dinner and continue uninterrupted well into the late night hours. The King had tinkered with the rules and somehow turned it into a sort of drinking game. "We have to roll the dice anyway, no sense in letting that go to waste," the King reasoned. In response to this unassailable argument, Eugene smiled and thought the King a particularly brilliant man. These marathon games always ended when one or the other was too inebriated to continue. A winner would thus be declared and the more-sober participant, usually Eugene, would assist the other in finding his nightly quarters. When Eugene was sick or after a particularly brutal night of backgammon, the Queen would worry and checkup on him. She would visit Eugene several times a day to make sure he was staying in bed, drinking enough water and not running a temperature. The King and Queen were not legally his parents; that would be weird. But they were truly his family and they loved and respected him. The feeling was mutual.
Most remarkable of all, Eugene now had a wife. He had once wished for a home and for parents, but he had never wished for a wife. The idea was not something he even considered before her. While he liked to sleep in, she was an early riser. Although, they had fully staffed kitchens (that was the type of swanky establishment he now lived in), she would sometimes insist on making him breakfast. She would put on her plush robe and her pink satin slippers and head down to the smaller of the two kitchens. It was further away from their quarters but she preferred to work in smaller, more confined spaces and so it was there that she kept her trusty frying pan. She would begin cracking eggs, mixing ingredients and baking from scratch, much to the horror of the early morning kitchen-hands. Eugene would wake up to a warm kiss and a hot tray of apple pancakes, poached eggs and an assortment of fresh breads and muffins. He loved when she made him breakfast in bed because it meant he could have her all to himself for a little while longer. Eugene would then try to persuade her to stay in for an hour or three so he could properly thank her. He was very persuasive.
Yup, Eugene was living the dream.