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just another day

Summary:

After Gothel is gone, Rapunzel feels conflicted- until Eugene makes a suggestion.

My first work!

Notes:

I recommend pairing this fic with the song "Runaway" by Aurora and a bowl of soup. :)

Work Text:

Princess Rapunzel climbs down the braided rope of her cut hair, smiling and touching her lips lightly from the moment before.

On the ground, she feels something silky under her feet, and picks up a certain cloak. Suddenly, the spot where she had tentatively stepped out into world, shocked by space only a few days before felt empty and sober.

"You all right, Blondie?" Eugene asks, finishing the climb just after her. His expression turns serious when he sees her own.

"I don't know." Her voice quavers as she stirs the dust with her toe and runs her hands over the faint embroidery.

"Hey." He tucks a bit of her cropped hair out of her face. "I didn't cut off your luxurious mane because I wanted you to forget about her. I just couldn't let you agree to live in a cage."

"I know." She sighs. "She tore me down all the time, she lied to me about everything in the world for her own benefit, she made me think I couldn't trust you and murdered you, she chained and gagged me for trying to break free."

Neither have to say Gothel's name aloud.

"But all this time, I thought it was her role as my mother. When she cooked hazelnut soup and brought me paint and taught me how to make candles, I glowed from within." Her voice trembles again. "She looked so proud when I sang for her that I never stopped and asked myself why...I should have grown up and stopped trusting sooner."

She is sobbing now, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Oh, Rapunzel..." Eugene moves a little closer toward her. "I'm only picking up bits and pieces here, but it sounds as if there was nothing you could have done until you really saw the world outside. And we wouldn't be...where we are now...if you hadn't decided to trust me. And Max, even though he was in cahoots with the guards. It's why he loves you."

"But I cherish those memories," she continues, voice breathier than usual. "How can I hate her and still think about what did make me happy? It doesn't make sense.  And I don't know what it's like to have a father in my life, and I don't know what or how my real parents will be like, and I don't know what is expected of a princess-"

"Hey, you're talking to poor orphan Eugene Fitzherbert, remember?" he interrupts lightly. "I don't know either." She stifles an endeared laugh at his comment. "But we can bring what little good we can get and take the next step forward, I guess."

He glances towards the towers of the castle, barely visible over the thick, deep forest. "No one in the kingdom knows anything yet, Rapunzel. You can take your time."

She nods, still tearing, embracing him a bit harder than intended. "Just another day."

....

 

Rapunzel emerges from the trees with a basket of berries, Pascal snacking on a few within. Her first fruit picked herself. She smiles sadly at the thought.

Their day had been simple, mostly wandering under shaded trees and talking about the past and the men at the Snuggly Duckling. Eugene had been strangely avert and flustered to her small displays of affection. It would be a labyrinth to reassure him that she was becoming stronger by the minute. That what had happened with them in the past week was real, though she was not articulately gifted enough to put either into words.

At the fire, Eugene is cooking something. She sits down, expecting something rustic made from traditionally stolen scraps. 

But it smells familiar...

"Hazelnut soup?" she guesses as they settle down with bowls in hand, the heat seeping through the thinner parts of the carved wood. 

He gives a classic grin. "A-la Flynn Rider."

She sips a spoonful. It is chunkier than she is used to, the the flavor alongside her favorite hazelnuts and butternut squash being closer to  green apple than parsnips. Less cream and spices, more herbs.

A wild, fascinated look spreads across her face, and she takes another. It was nothing like her cold, classically feminine Mother- it was all hers. A dish she could enjoy without echoes of fear.

"You are quite the chef, Flynn Rider." she teases after a mouthful of fresh toasted bread.

"Well, it depends on what you've planned for those berries, Goldie."

"You have no idea."

....

 

In the morning, Rapunzel wakes from her place on the other side of the satchel between them.

She breathes in the misted air as she walks, suddenly wondering if the king and queen would allow her trips like this. She would need more of the berries that grew only here, and never have to give up fire, soup, fresh air, good conversation. Preferably with a trusted companion.

It was worth considering, wasn't it?

Maybe others would visit her tower, to see her artwork and learn her story. But not she. Not yet. The feeling of confinement, the sight of blood on a dagger, and the sound of glass and chains was far too fresh in her mind.

Reaching the base of her tower, she scrapes away at the soil until she digs a fairly deep hole. Taking a deep breath, she gently folds the cloak and covers it with earth, adding a few flowers from her hair as a last thought.

She notices Eugene watching from a short distance as she brushes the dirt off her dress with a confidence that for once was not sparing.

"We can stay another day, he offers. "Or a week. This is more than a lot, Blondie, don't hurry."

She just smiles.

"I'm ready."

 

She could afford to jump out of her tower again.