A Most Precious Treasure (3/11)
“Rapunzel…” Eugene pauses, closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and then, looking into the mirror again, grits out, “Will-you-marry-me?”
He glares at his reflection for a moment and then glances toward his early morning guest. “How was that?”
Pascal harrumphs and shakes his green head deftly from left to right and then back again.
Eugene swallows a growl. It shouldn’t be this hard. It really shouldn’t. He loves Rapunzel. She loves him. There’s only a disapproving dad and a tentatively accepting mom in the way. Oh, and the whole royalty thing, of course. Still, men propose marriage every day! This is a common occurrence!
He stands up straight, adjusts his doublet and proclaims, “Rapunzel, marry me!”
He twitches a brow in Pascal’s direction. “Better?”
The lizard blinks at him drolly. Once.
“Grrarrr!” Eugene articulates, pivoting away from the mirror and rifling through his hair with clawed fingers. He then pauses, turns back, points a finger at the lizard and announces, “I’m not giving up.”
Pascal looks doubtful.
“It’s going to happen.”
Again, no great overwhelming waves of faith are forthcoming.
“Watch me.”
The lizard yawns.
Eugene fists his hands and, arms akimbo, informs Rapunzel’s frog through a rather determined, Flynn Rider grin, “There’s only so much proclaiming a man can manage before he starts repeating himself, and I’m afraid I’m just not in the mood today.”
Whatever reply Pascal would have deemed appropriate is interrupted by the sound of a carriage rolling noisily up to the front of the castle. Eugene leaps to the open window and, ignoring the view he had so admired years ago when he’d stolen the lost princess’ crown, he counts the number of guards and mounts filling the courtyard in preparation for the trek.
It’s really happening. Rapunzel is really leaving. Today.
It isn’t as if he hadn’t known that this day was coming. The annual royal tour is, after all, an annual event. Like birthdays and tax collections. He knows these trips around the neighboring realms are good for everybody involved. They allow her and her parents to connect with their people and it gives her a chance to see the vast kingdom that she will, by right of birth, one day rule.
The first tour they had undertaken, just weeks after Rapunzel had been reunited with her mother and father, had been magical for Rapunzel and an exercise in repression for Eugene. She had been so charmed and delighted with the most mundane things, things that every child has the freedom to see or do or explore… every child except for Rapunzel. And in the face of that injustice, he had very nearly howled with fury a dozen times a day and twice as much on Sundays!
Eugene takes a calming breath as he swings his leg over the side of the balcony. Pascal races up his arm and snuggles down into the back of his collar as he takes the shortcut to the courtyard and the waiting armed escort below.
With the aid of a banner pole, a few windowsills, and an old tree that no one had ever bothered to cut down, he reaches the cobblestone drive in record time. Pascal ventures forth from his collar and when Eugene gives him an evaluating glance - yes, the lizard is still in one piece - he receives an appreciative thumbs up for either technique or speed. Eugene can never be sure which the critter is squeaking happily about.
Congratulations for not breaking his own neck and squishing Rapunzel's frog will have to wait. Eugene Fitzherbert has some business to take care of.
The idea of Rapunzel traveling with her father, who presumably hasn’t picked up a sword in a quarter century, and the royal “guards” does not sit well with Eugene. No doubt the castle is rife with criticism against him for teaching the princess a few useful maneuvers. Eugene doesn’t care. He had wanted, needed, to run through the basics of dirty fighting just in case Max gets distracted by a ripe apple on the side of the road.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
Eugene smiles as he remembers. Rapunzel had been wearing her light pink dress that day.
But! Fond memories of tumbles in clumps of wildflowers and a frantically searching horse will have to wait. He has business to attend to at the moment.
Stepping out of the shadow of the old, sun bleached, gnarled and leafless tree, Eugene strides toward the captain of the guard. “Hey. Max.”
The stallion nickers in welcome, an eager and militant gleam in his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s a beautiful day for guarding some royal persons. I get that.” He steps up to the horse until the tips of his boots are just a pace away from the stallion’s front hooves. “But let’s get one more thing straight here.” Adopting his most intimidating glare (which, unfortunately, a handsome face doesn’t manage quite as well as a Stabbington ogre face would), Eugene hisses, “If you come across any trouble, I don’t care who your rider is, you dump him and bring Rapunzel straight back here. Is that clear?”
Max blinks at him, startled. Then, with an affronted huff, nods his head and swishes his tail. Eugene doesn’t press his luck by demanding they shake over it. Max knows how precious the princess is and that is why, despite the brief training he’d given Rapunzel, Eugene still feels compelled to bully somebody into looking out for her in his stead... even though she is more than capable of handling herself.
Without a handsome and strong escort like himself, Rapunzel would undoubtedly have suitors tripping all over themselves trying to catch the attention of the beautiful and no-longer-lost princess. Though Eugene isn’t the slightest bit afraid of some pompous lord stealing her heart -- after all, he is the thief! -- he had been compelled to make sure that she was prepared to defend herself if an arrogant ego couldn’t handle a little (well, all right, a lot of) rejection.
She had impressed him yesterday, displaying the skill and confidence to disarm him. A smile stretches his lips as he remembers how proud she’d been, sitting on top of him with a frying pan hovering above his head. Yes, that memory will stay with him for a while.
Eugene knows what kind of fighter she is by her very nature. It takes a person of special quality to tie up a thief and attack a thug in a pub. And it had been clear, during their last combat session, that she hasn’t lost an ounce of that moxy. He had not given her any leeway and she had shown him no mercy. Yes, she can undoubtedly take care of herself.
Still, a little extra insurance couldn’t hurt.
Unfortunately, procuring insurance is all he is permitted to do. Innovative and extensive fighting skills or no, he still wants to be there with her, not stay behind at the castle with the queen, making important decisions like whether the royal chef should prepare pudding or trifle for the princess’ big birthday dinner.
Eugene doesn’t kid himself, though. He knows why he’s being excluded from this third tour. Word gets around. Especially word on the subject of a certain pardoned thief practicing marriage proposals in mirrors. That had been Pascal’s fault. One door, open wide enough for a forgetful lizard to slink though, and one passing footman was all it had taken for the whole kingdom to become overrun with gossip about the possibility of the princess’ impending nuptials. Eugene is fairly certain that Rapunzel hasn’t heard the news yet. Which is why he’s in such a hurry to get it right and just pop the blasted question.
But this isn’t right; it shouldn’t be so difficult to just say the words! After three years, some progress needs to be made in their relationship. And now he’s on a schedule. Countdown to tour. Just as soon as he exchanges farewells with Rapunzel, she’ll be gone and he’ll have to wait weeks for another chance.
That might not be such a bad thing, actually, Eugene tells himself as he strides past the still vacant royal coach. Distance does make the heart grow fonder. Eugene wonders if it will manage to help calm the panic that overwhelms him when he thinks of a lifetime of having to be the perfect princely husband to an even more perfect princess.
But how can he not be that man? He loves her. So much. Eugene suppresses a wince at the memory. He hadn’t meant to say those last two words, but apparently his heart is more verbose than he’d realized.
He can hear commotion from the top of the steps, in the castle foyer. His heart begins to pound. This is it: last chance for three weeks.
Get it done, Rider!
It isn’t supposed to be like this.
Eugene forces himself to mount the stairs. Each step is harder than the last. He wishes yet again (he’s lost count of those wishes, but he’s fairly certain that if each were a penny, he’d be richer at this moment than he’d ever been in his entire life) that somehow Rapunzel had been able to present an unarguable argument for him to join her and her father on their annual tour of the kingdom. It is his own fault that she hadn’t tried harder. And why hadn’t he tried harder to get her to try harder? Because he knows Rapunzel needs to do this. And he knows her parents need to do this. Eugene isn’t about to try to get between Rapunzel and her family. Not only would that be hurtful for her - and he would never hurt her - but it would engender bad feelings all around. Yes, the king and queen are trying to shunt him off to some dark corner while they flash bejeweled princes at their daughter. There’s nothing he can do about that except grin and bear it. But he knows Rapunzel. She’ll see right through that eventually. And when she does, Eugene knows what will happen: she’ll come running back to him in his dusty corner.
Faithful and empathetic boyfriend - 1. Royally overprotective parents - 0.
But even knowing the results ahead of time doesn’t give Eugene the right to get in the way. The king and queen have to do this. They have to try, anyway. Failure is a given.
So Rapunzel is going to be out there, without him, just for a little while. She’ll see what it’s like, what men in general are like. And then she’ll realize how good she’s got it with him!
Oh, yeah. Eugene knows the score. Their majesties want Rapunzel to meet and greet those stuffy lords and princes without Eugene grinning like a moray eel at them from a step behind and to the left of the princess. He doesn’t doubt the sudden halving of the royal entourage had been a direct result of those bothersome rumors, either!
Yes. All. His. Fault. No one but himself is to blame.
Which is really too bad.
Upon reaching the top step, Eugene suddenly finds himself with an armful of elated princess. “Eugene!” she says as she burrows her face into his collar. “You almost missed us! Momma already said goodbye!”
All thoughts of proposals and unwelcoming in-laws vanish from his mind completely. Eugene hugs her back and then swings her around once for good measure.
If only that blasted rumor hadn’t gotten started. If only the queen had decided to accompany her family after all, Eugene wouldn’t have been asked to stay behind and help her organize the kingdom’s most anticipated event. After all the kindness the royal family had shown him, from the royal pardon of his past crimes to housing him in the castle, he could hardly deny the queen’s request.
Although he’d very much wanted to.
He might have if Rapunzel had wheedled just a bit more. But, then again, maybe not. Eugene had made a commitment to the queen. And, though his inner Flynn Rider isn’t thrilled at the concept, Eugene is doing his best to be a man of his word.
Reveling in her forever-blondie-ness, he inhales deeply. Her scent, a unique mixture of lavender, roses and reptile, makes his heart swell and his eyes burn with very unmanly moisture.
He is going to miss her. So much.
Sighing, he sets her down gently. Almost immediately, he notices the king’s presence and the troubled look the man wears. Oops, that’s right, Eugene remembers belatedly, public displays of affection are generally frowned upon. Especially when they involve the princess and a former thief.
This isn’t the only troubled look Eugene has been treated to in recent days, either. He hadn’t missed the frown pulling at the king’s brows and mouth when they had finished their last combat lesson. Eugene is under no illusion about his tentative position in the royal family. The king tolerates his presence, the queen accepts it, and Rapunzel, the only one whose opinion really matters to Eugene, needs it. If she hadn’t been such a daddy’s girl, Eugene has no doubt he would have been sent on his way soon after her reappearance.
The lizard perches on his shoulder, looking a shade bluer than normal. It seems as if Eugene isn’t the only one who is going to miss her.
“We should be going, my dear,” the king says kindly to Rapunzel. “We are expected in Solstberg by sundown.”
Glumly but dutifully, she nods and takes a step away.
She can’t go! his heart cries. What are you going to do without her?
His mouth dries.
Last chance, Rider! Get it done!
His palms sweat.
Do or die, Fitzherbert.
"Rapunzel, would you...?" His throat closes, silencing the words of his heart.
She raises an eyebrow and looks at him curiously. “Would I?”
He glances around, from the king’s stricken expression to the royal guard looking on below. He works his mouth as panic thunders through him. No sound emerges.
"Eugene?" she prompts gently, laying a hand on his arm.
Yet again, Eugene Fitzherbert crumbles under pressure. Sighing, he mutters with a sheepishly apologetic grin, "Um, remember to wear your shoes while you're gone?"
He’s rather proud of himself for such a masterful ad lib, but to his horror, Rapunzle bursts into tears, great huge tears that spill out of her lovely eyes and roll down her cheeks. No, no, no, this is not good. It is hard enough for him to see her cry, but it is made quantitatively worse by the presence of her father.
"What'd I say?" he sputters, keeping a close eye on the king who is watching this exchange very closely.
She looks up at him with a fresh batch of tears in her eyes, ready to fall. "You won't be there to remember my shoes for me."
"I know. I'm sorry. But, hey,” he says, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, “I'll make it up to you."
"Promise?"
He fishes a square of linen - who knew these things would ever come in handy? - out of his pocket and proceeds with mopping up all the emotional spillage. "I promise."
She leans forward and kisses him quite soundly for his assurance. The moment would have been perfect if her father hadn’t chosen that exact moment to clear his throat.
Very loudly.
She pulls away from him with a slightly guilty smile before looking at Pascal, who had turned bright red at their passionate kiss. “Take care of him,” she charges the reptile.
Eugene feigns a look of frustration. Truth be told, he isn’t opposed to the company of her frog while she is away. Maybe he could even put that ridiculous, lizard-sized dress on him just so he wouldn’t miss her so much. Now if he can just get used to the sensation of little feet pressing into his skull, he’d be all set. “I don’t need your frog to look after me.”
“Chameleon,” she replies playfully.
“Nuance.” He grins cheekily.
They smile at each other before Eugene takes a step back. “I--” He decides against a public declaration of love. She already knows how he feels. “I will see you when you get back.”
She nods with spunk. “You’d better!” Her expression softens with sadness once more and this time, Eugene is better at forestalling the waterworks.
“I know you said you wouldn’t leave until we said goodbye, but... I’m letting you out of the deal. Let’s skip the goodbyes and go straight to the hellos when you get back. All right?”
She grins. “You’ve got a deal.” She holds out her hand. Eugene takes it, shakes it, and then tucks it into the crook of his arm. The least he can do is help her into the stupid coach, right? He even holds the door open for the king.
They waste no time in embarking on their journey. A small hand waves from the tiny, ornamental window on the side of the carriage. Though he’s sure she can’t see him where he’s still standing, Eugene waves back. As Max and his rider pass by, Eugene shares a look with the horse. Max glares at him, the look of a horse-on-a-mission hardening the gleam in his eye. Eugene nods his thanks.
Together, Eugene and Pascal watch the coach until they can no longer see it on the horizon.
There is nothing left to do but to go back inside the mostly empty castle. He walks aimlessly for nearly an hour before he notices the queen occupying one of the sitting rooms. At the sight of her look of concentration and the object of her scrutiny, he freezes. From here, he can see various fabrics lying on the table, silently demanding his input. He suppresses a shudder. Rapunzel hasn’t even been gone for an hour and the queen is already pulling out fabric swatches!
How on earth is he going to survive the next three weeks?
He proceeds to quietly tiptoe past the entrance, hoping that the queen doesn’t notice his presence. He almost makes it across the opening when Pascal, who apparently feels it necessary to remind Eugene of his promise, gives his hair a forceful yank.
He lets out an admittedly unmanly yelp and reaches up to rub his smarting scalp. Pascal’s vibrating laughter only adds an odd tickling sensation into the mix.
I wonder if the royal chef is opposed to making frog stew...
Before he can mutter any threats against the frog, the queen looks up from the fabrics. “Eugene,” she greets warmly. “I’m glad you are here.”
That makes one of us.
He pastes an unfortunately-familiar, forced smile on his face and walks inside the large room. “Is there something I can help you with, your Highness?”
“I am wondering if we should make this year’s color scheme in orchid or lilac,” she says, nodding towards the two fabrics which look exactly the same to Eugene’s untrained eye. Maybe he should have asked Rapunzel for a crash course in all the variations of the color purple before she’d left.
"Which one smells better?" he jokes.
For a moment, it looks as if the jest is going to fly right over the queen's crowned-head, but then she snorts out a very un-queen-like laugh. For an instant, Eugene forgets that he is dreading the oncoming party planning. He grins back at her. She hovers a hand in front of her nose as if that will deter more ungraceful giggles from escaping.
The queen is still trying not to smile too widely when she gestures for him to take a seat. As he does so, Eugene reluctantly accepts his fabric-filled future. Perhaps, if he can crack a few more jokes, this gig might not be so bad after all.
"In that case," the queen continues, "perhaps we should also consider lavender and columbine if scent is to be a consideration of importance.
Eugene bites back a sigh as more equally purple fabrics are added to the pile.
Brilliant and charming, unlikely protagonist - 0. Queen - 1.
He only hopes things with Rapunzel and her father are going better.
Chapter 3