Blue Skies Prompt #2: Skyrockets in Flight (Tangled)
Title: Sky Rockets in Flight
Author: mrstater
Prompt: #2, picture of fireworks
Fandom: Tangled
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Eugene/Rapunzel
Rating & Warnings: rated PG for mild innuendo
Word Count: 725
Summary: Fireworks mark the end of Corona's Royal Wedding festivities, but for Eugene and Rapunzel, the party's only getting started.
The fireworks explode overhead, purple and green, blue and red, white so dazzling that I squint against the light and see the blasts of color against the night sky even between rounds. So I turn and lean back against the ledge of the palace balcony and watch the reflection of the fireworks in Rapunzel's wide eyes.
She jumps at every boom, but then bounces on her toes and claps in total delight at the shower of color that rains down over the kingdom like a fountain of light. She'd look like a kid if she weren't wearing a wedding dress that emphasizes how very much a kid she's not. Still, there's something childlike in her joy, and I love that about her, love how it makes me feel. Like it takes away some of the jadedness that inevitably comes from growing up in an orphanage and then turning to a life of crime. Like I have an excuse for this whole immaturity act I've been perfecting, chiefly in the form of tormenting the Captain of the Guard. And Maximus. Though I did ask him to stand up with me as my Best Horse; it was only fair seeing as Rapunzel had Pascal as Frog of Honor.
"Better than the lanterns on your birthday, Blondie?"
"I didn't think anything could be more magical than the lights, but fireworks are incredible!" Rapunzel takes her eyes off them and looks over at me with a smile so radiant that it almost makes me gasp like everyone else is gasping about what's going on in the sky. You know, if I were the gasping type. At least not out loud.
"Or maybe," she says, brushing up against me, it's just that wedding days kick birthdays' butts."
Laughing, I wrap my arms around her and pull her in front of me, pressing her tiny frame against mine and leaning my chin on her shoulder where I can press kisses against the soft, bare, perfumed curve of her neck as we watch the fireworks again. Somehow, I resist the urge to murmur in her ear in my oft-rehearsed sensual tones, Baby, just wait till you see what kind of fireworks we set off tonight.
Mostly because before I can, Rapunzel turns her head and asks, "Do you like the fireworks, Eugene?"
"Pretty darn fantastic, Babe," I agree, and I catch her pleased grin in my periphery, feel her snuggle up closer against me as I look back up at the hazy sky. "It's kinda hard to believe they're shooting off fireworks for me." Realizing how that sounds, I scramble to fix it. "I mean, I know they're for you, too..for us...not just for me...It's just, I never expected fireworks to celebrate my nuptials."
"Because you never thought you were the marrying kind?"
Despite this whole ladies' man image I've worked so hard to project, I bristle that I've given Rapunzel the idea that I'm some kind of serial dater. But that's hardly appropriate wedding night talk.
"Because I never thought I was the princess marrying kind. Blondie," I add, as I'm struck by a sudden realization at the implication behind her innocuous words, "they don't shoot off fireworks for every peasant in the kingdom who gets married."
Her mouth falls open in an O. "They don't?"
"Hate to break it to you, but that'd be a resounding no."
"But that's so not fair!" She shoots a glower at the King and Queen, who are watching the fireworks further down the balcony. "Everybody should have fireworks on their wedding night!"
Though I put up a valiant fight, I can't stifle a snigger at that.
"When I'm Queen," Rapunzel goes on, oblivious, "I'll make a law that grants every married couple in Corona wedding night fireworks! Eugene? Why are you laughing?"
Wiping away a tear, I reply, "I think natural law's pretty well got that covered, Babe."
She stares at me, blankly, for just a moment. Then her face lights up with something totally unrelated to the blaze of dozens of crackling rockets overhead.
"I think we're missing the grand finale," I say, gazing back at her, pretty sure that I'm glowing, too. And I don't even care that I'm glowing.
"That's okay," Rapunzel says, slipping her hand into mine. "We can go have our own."
I really, seriously, love this woman.
Author: mrstater
Prompt: #2, picture of fireworks
Fandom: Tangled
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Eugene/Rapunzel
Rating & Warnings: rated PG for mild innuendo
Word Count: 725
Summary: Fireworks mark the end of Corona's Royal Wedding festivities, but for Eugene and Rapunzel, the party's only getting started.
The fireworks explode overhead, purple and green, blue and red, white so dazzling that I squint against the light and see the blasts of color against the night sky even between rounds. So I turn and lean back against the ledge of the palace balcony and watch the reflection of the fireworks in Rapunzel's wide eyes.
She jumps at every boom, but then bounces on her toes and claps in total delight at the shower of color that rains down over the kingdom like a fountain of light. She'd look like a kid if she weren't wearing a wedding dress that emphasizes how very much a kid she's not. Still, there's something childlike in her joy, and I love that about her, love how it makes me feel. Like it takes away some of the jadedness that inevitably comes from growing up in an orphanage and then turning to a life of crime. Like I have an excuse for this whole immaturity act I've been perfecting, chiefly in the form of tormenting the Captain of the Guard. And Maximus. Though I did ask him to stand up with me as my Best Horse; it was only fair seeing as Rapunzel had Pascal as Frog of Honor.
"Better than the lanterns on your birthday, Blondie?"
"I didn't think anything could be more magical than the lights, but fireworks are incredible!" Rapunzel takes her eyes off them and looks over at me with a smile so radiant that it almost makes me gasp like everyone else is gasping about what's going on in the sky. You know, if I were the gasping type. At least not out loud.
"Or maybe," she says, brushing up against me, it's just that wedding days kick birthdays' butts."
Laughing, I wrap my arms around her and pull her in front of me, pressing her tiny frame against mine and leaning my chin on her shoulder where I can press kisses against the soft, bare, perfumed curve of her neck as we watch the fireworks again. Somehow, I resist the urge to murmur in her ear in my oft-rehearsed sensual tones, Baby, just wait till you see what kind of fireworks we set off tonight.
Mostly because before I can, Rapunzel turns her head and asks, "Do you like the fireworks, Eugene?"
"Pretty darn fantastic, Babe," I agree, and I catch her pleased grin in my periphery, feel her snuggle up closer against me as I look back up at the hazy sky. "It's kinda hard to believe they're shooting off fireworks for me." Realizing how that sounds, I scramble to fix it. "I mean, I know they're for you, too..for us...not just for me...It's just, I never expected fireworks to celebrate my nuptials."
"Because you never thought you were the marrying kind?"
Despite this whole ladies' man image I've worked so hard to project, I bristle that I've given Rapunzel the idea that I'm some kind of serial dater. But that's hardly appropriate wedding night talk.
"Because I never thought I was the princess marrying kind. Blondie," I add, as I'm struck by a sudden realization at the implication behind her innocuous words, "they don't shoot off fireworks for every peasant in the kingdom who gets married."
Her mouth falls open in an O. "They don't?"
"Hate to break it to you, but that'd be a resounding no."
"But that's so not fair!" She shoots a glower at the King and Queen, who are watching the fireworks further down the balcony. "Everybody should have fireworks on their wedding night!"
Though I put up a valiant fight, I can't stifle a snigger at that.
"When I'm Queen," Rapunzel goes on, oblivious, "I'll make a law that grants every married couple in Corona wedding night fireworks! Eugene? Why are you laughing?"
Wiping away a tear, I reply, "I think natural law's pretty well got that covered, Babe."
She stares at me, blankly, for just a moment. Then her face lights up with something totally unrelated to the blaze of dozens of crackling rockets overhead.
"I think we're missing the grand finale," I say, gazing back at her, pretty sure that I'm glowing, too. And I don't even care that I'm glowing.
"That's okay," Rapunzel says, slipping her hand into mine. "We can go have our own."
I really, seriously, love this woman.