yappichick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
yappichick) wrote2011-09-30 10:59 am
yappichick) wrote2011-09-30 10:59 am
Taming the Rider (1/4), [Tangled]
Info and disclaimers on Master Post
“Rise and shine, Eugene!”
I am tempted to swat away whoever has the audacity to wake me up so early, especially after the day I had yesterday. My mind is still muddled being half-conscious and all, but I distinctly remember nearly drowning and--even worse--having to sing in front of a group of drunk ruffians.
I flop my arm over my eyes, blocking the sun’s rays from disturbing my slumber. “Go away,” I tell my human alarm clock.
“Eu-gene, it’s time to wake up!”
My sleepy brain slowly recalls who is the owner of the sing-songy voice.
Blondie.
The woman with the impossibly long, magic hair. I lift my arm slightly and crack one eye open, looking for that frog of hers before he gets any ideas of how to wake me up. To my relief, he is perched on Blondie’s shoulder with his tongue in his mouth where it belongs.
“Do you have any time what time it is?” I grumble, longing to return to my blissful slumber.
She bites her lip as she tries to figure out the answer.
“Never mind,” I say, rubbing my eyes. It figures she would wake up when the sun rose. I bet she probably sang a morning song with the birds too. I push myself up with my left hand to a sitting position and immediately notice something is different. I seem almost...lighter.
Last night’s question to Blondie floats into my mind. “Is there any chance that I’m gonna get super strength in my hand?” She had assured me that I wouldn’t get such a thing, but now I’m starting to think she might be wrong.
If my theory is correct and I do have superhuman strength in my hand then this is beyond stupendous. It’s unbelievable. I allow myself to start thinking about what I could possibly steal with my new found strength; the marble statues in the royal museum immediately spring to mind.
This is going to be fun.
I must have a strange look on my face because Blondie starts looking at me intently. “Is everything ok, Eugene?” Her frog appraises me suspiciously.
“I’m fine,” I quickly assure her, practically jumping up in excitement. I dust off my pants and gesture towards the trees. “I’m just going to, um, take care of my business.”
Her cheeks color slightly and she takes a step back. “Oh! Of course. We’ll, um, just be over there.” She turns towards her reptilian companion. “Come on, Pascal.”
Without wasting a second, I dash for the closest grouping of trees. I glance over my shoulder to make sure Blondie and her frog are busy --she’s busy twirling her frying pan in her hand for some reason-- and glance at my left hand.
Well, it’s not glowing or anything. I frown. I distinctly remember Blondie’s hair lighting up when she sang that strange song that made her hair turn magical. Now I’m starting to wonder if I imagined the sensation when I first woke up.
There’s only one way to know for sure.
I approach a boulder and eye it critically. Nope, there is no way that anyone could pick that thing up (maybe except for that gargantuan thug at the Snuggly Duckling). I lean down, grip the giant rock and lift it up.
It’s as light as a feather.
Un-believable. Those trunks full of gold coins in the royal treasury won’t stand a chance against me, I think with a boastful grin. This is going to make thieving almost seem too easy...not that it was much of a challenge before.
I spin the boulder around once for good measure before tossing it into the river. Part of me wants to see just how strong I have become and try to uproot one of these enormous trees, but I know Blondie will come looking for me pretty soon, so I nix the idea.
As I approach the campsite, I decide to keep my newly bestowed superhuman strength a secret for now. If I tell Blondie, she will probably make me promise to only use the powers for good or something else equally as philanthropic.
And that would be a terrible waste.
I step out from the trees and call out to my unlikely traveling companions. “We need to get going, Blondie. The kingdom isn’t that much further from here.”
She claps her hands and practically skips to me. “When do you think we’ll get there?”
I look over the tops of the trees and squint. In the distance, I can see the top of the palace. “A couple of hours. Maybe a little more. It depends how far that river carried us yesterday.”
She lets out an squeal of excitement. She grabs my right wrist and gives me a tug. As we start down the road, I realize we should probably be more cautious about guards patrolling the area, but I figure with my brute strength, I’ll be able to toss them into the river.
Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun.
The next two hours are spent walking and answering Blondie’s never-ending questions. Not that I mind too much. Not after the gift she has given me, even if she doesn’t know about it yet.
I’m busy admiring my hand again --can you blame me?-- when my attention is pulled away from it by Blondie’s concerned voice.
“Um, I think we have a problem, Eugene.”
I look away from my hand to see what is troubling Blondie. An enormous tree that has fallen due to the dam rupture is now blocking the path–the only path–that leads to the bridge into kingdom. The trunk itself is a couple of yards high and the overgrowth around the road is so dense, we won’t be able to go through it.
Nope, I think smugly, that tree is going to have to move out of our way. I watch as she sends her hair sailing to one of the larger branches. It wraps itself around the bough, but the wood splinters as soon as she tries to give her hair a tug. She tries again and again, but is no closer to moving the tree.
With an annoyed sigh, she slumps to the ground, tears in her eyes. “Eugene, I’m not sure we can get past that.” Even her frog, who is now blue--literally--seems to have given up hope. He leans into her shoulder and chirps sadly.
However, unlike Miss Negativity and her pet, I’m not worried about the tree at all. I hold up my hand to silence any other worries she may have and give it another admiring glance. I guess it’s time for me to let her in on my little secret.
“I’ve got this covered, Blondie,” I assure her with a wink.
It could have been my imagination, but I swore she swooned slightly.
Before she can say anything, I pick up the gigantic tree with my left hand and toss it effortlessly into the overgrowth, several yards away. I turn back to her with my perfectly confident smile in place. “What did I tell you?”
“Eugene!” she squeals, jumping up and practically dancing in the middle of the road with excitement. “You do have super human strength in your hand!”
I examine my hand closely, admiring it. “I do, don’t I?”
To my surprise, she grabs my hand and looks at it closely. She gently runs her fingers over mine, as if trying to feel the power running through them. I tell myself I do not enjoy the feel of her soft fingers touching my calloused ones.
Oh, who I am kidding?
I am absolutely relishing in the fact that she is so interested in my hand. She has turned it over in her palm and seems content to give it the attention it duly deserves. Her soft fingers trace over the lines that run across my palm.
I’m plenty satisfied to stay here all day and let her idolize my hand, which will no doubt be the source of many legends, but a few seconds later, I have a sudden change of heart when her frog scurries down her arm and starts pressing his tiny green hand into my palm.
“Yes, yes,” I say, pulling my hand away roughly, “we’re all impressed with the hand that has the strength of a thousand men.”
I ignore the disappointment that passes over Blondie’s face and start walking down the path to the kingdom. That woman needs to teach her pet a little something about personal space, I decide as she approaches my side.
All of my ire is forgotten seconds later because I feel an unfamiliar sensation.
Blondie is holding my hand.
To my horror, I let out a strangled squeak. Quickly, I recover and clear my throat. “Er, what do you think you are doing there, Blondie?”
Was it me or did my voice crack in the middle of my sentence?
She raises an eyebrow at me, smiling slyly. “I’m making sure you don’t get yourself into trouble with your new superhuman strength. Since I’m the one who gave you the power, you’re my responsibility now.”
I’m pretty sure I could get into a lot more trouble with her holding my hand, if the awkward, but not exactly unpleasant, feeling running through me is any indication. “Your responsibility?” The question comes off much more needy than I like.
“Yup.”
Just as I’m about to ask her what, exactly, those responsibilities are, Mother Nature unexpectedly decides to distract me.
A big, fat drop of rain hits my cheek.
Frowning, I look up in the sky. But, I realize with a wave of confusion, there are no clouds, just blue sky and the too bright sun. And yet, I feel another drop of water hit my face.
“Um, Blondie…” I start, slightly concerned. What if that magical hair of hers makes you delusional?
Suddenly I realize that I can’t feel her holding my hand anymore. Before I can finish the sentence, she starts disappearing before my eyes.
The world around me starts to fade.
This is a dream, I finally realize. Once I am pulled from my subconscious world of superhuman strength, I am left with no other option than to open my eyes.
And I am greeted by that palace horse that has been chasing me since the crown heist yesterday, soaking wet and snarling just inches above my face. It’s rather repulsive really.
I open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind. “Well, I hope you’re here to apologize.” And with that, I settle down to catch up on some more sleep.
Apparently, that was not the right thing to say because the next thing I know, that horse is dragging me across grass. With nothing to grab --and sadly having a lack of superhuman strength-- I am powerless to stop this horse from taking me from the campsite. Grabbing the grass proves fruitless as I see Blondie getting smaller in the distance.
I might have let out a rather unmanly yelp as he continues to pull me away from Blondie and her frog. “No no no! Put me down!” I beg.
I’m relieved to see Blondie wake instantly, jump up and rush to my aid. Hey, after the past twenty-four hours, I’ve gotten used to the idea of her coming to my rescue.
“Stop it!” I shout to the horse.
He doesn’t listen. Seriously, the royal guard should consider retraining him to obey the commands given to him.
Blondie has just about reached me which is a good thing because I’m pretty sure I just swallowed a mouthful of grass. She grabs my wrists and starts pulling me in the opposite direction towards the burnt-out campfire.
Believe or not, she manages to stop that horse from going any farther. Who knew that she had that much upper body strength? Maybe that magical hair of hers does give people superhuman power, I think hopefully.
I hold on to her wrists tightly as she gives me a tug. Now that she has managed to keep me from getting dragged into the palace prison, I am not loosening my grip until I am away from that unnaturally obsessive horse.
“Let. Me. Go,” I demand with no results. Maybe this horse doesn’t understand basic instruction.
Or maybe he just doesn’t like me.
Either way, he’s not going to release me without a fight. I vaguely wonder if it’s possible to actually rip a person in half as he gives a particularly tough tug in his direction. Being a human rope in the contest of tug-of-war between the two of them is becoming rather painful, but there is absolutely no way I am letting go of Blondie.
“Give me him,” she grits out.
Yeah, I think, give me to her!
“Stop stop stop!” I shout, hoping that somehow the horse starts listening to my pleas.
Not surprisingly, he doesn’t listen.
Blondie gives one more tug and I go sailing over her head with one bootless foot. That was rather impressive, I must admit. But there is no time for praise; I press myself against the trunk of the tree, not particularly caring that Flynn Rider would never let a woman stand between him and danger. Eugene Fitzherbert is perfectly content to let Blondie fight his wars for him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she repeats as she effectively blocks him from grabbing me again. “Easy boy. Easy.”
I’m still scrambling up the base of the tree, watching my boot flop helplessly in that beast’s mouth. Doesn’t he know that it took a lot of effort to steal that from the shoemaker?
“Easy boy,” she says again.
Amazingly, that horse actually seems to listen to her! He stops his lunging and stays in place, though he doesn’t look too happy about it.
I’m starting to wonder if that magical hair of hers allows her to speak to animals. Or at least talk them out of demented fits of rage.
Suddenly, I notice that frog of hers is sitting on top of her head. He gestures with his hands, communicating in some mysterious animal language. Why couldn’t he have jumped in the conversation before I ended up being nearly torn in two?
“That’s it,” she continues. “Now sit. Sit!”
That horse actually sits down.
“What?” I sputter as I question what kind of madness I signed up for in agreeing to take her to the kingdom.
Blondie doesn’t even bother turning in my direction. That horse has her full, undivided attention. “Now, drop the boot,” she commands, pointing towards the ground. “Drop it.”
I’ll give you one guess to figure out what he does.
Blondie rewards obedience by cuddling him. Hey, she didn’t do anything like that to me when I agreed to take her to see the lanterns yesterday! Not that I wanted her to, I quickly tell myself. It’s just the principal of the thing.
“Awww! You’re such a good boy,” she coos. Despite not having eaten in nearly twenty-four hours, I feel my stomach start to churn at the unadulterated sappiness. “Yes, you are. You all tired from chasing this bad man all over the place?”
Now wait just a second. He’s the good boy and I’m the bad man? Maybe this is the time to remind her that he nearly caused us to drown the day before and I’m the one escorting her to the kingdom. “Excuse me?”
She, however, is not interested in what I have to say. Neither is the horse, apparently. “Nobody appreciates you, do they? Do they?”
He shakes his head and huffs, leaning into her touch.
I cannot believe this. Why couldn’t this have been my dream and I wake up to have superhuman strength in my hand?
“Oh come on! He’s a bad horse,” I argue. Quite effectively, I might add.
Blondie is not convinced by my profound argument. “Oh, he’s nothing but a big sweetheart. Isn’t that right...” She looks at his name tag. “...Maximus?”
At least the target of my anger has a name, but seriously, how can Blondie really think that horse has any redeeming qualities about him? And, really, a sweetheart? That thing? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Max gives me a glare.
It’s a good thing I’m not scared of him while Blondie is in between us.
Blondie puts her hand on his head, calming him. “Look. Today is kind of the biggest day of my life and the thing is...”
She grabs my arm and pulls me up. I resist the urge to go running in the opposite direction of the horse. “...I need you to not get him arrested.”
I know I should be paying attention to the horse, but I realize that I’m focusing too much attention on the fact that Blondie’s hand feels just as soft as it had when she had held it in my dream.
Max and that ridiculous scowl --I mean, what kind of horse scowls?-- pulls me from the thoughts I should not be thinking.
“Just for twenty-four hours and then you can chase each other to your heart’s content,” she offers.
I sigh. Obviously I’m going to have to be the bigger man, or horse, here. I stick out my hand for him to shake, forgetting how ridiculous the idea of shaking hands with a horse is.
Max is not impressed by my gesture of peace. He turns away with a huff.
That’s it! If he’s not even going to humor Blondie’s request than maybe I should show him what I really thought about his wake up call.
Blondie, however, is still turning on the charm. “And it’s also my birthday. Just so you know.”
That broke him. With a snort and a sigh, he shakes my hand.
Suddenly, Blondie’s words catch up with me. Birthday…Wait, what? Why didn’t she tell me that it was her birthday yesterday?
I pull myself up short. Why does it matter if today is her birthday? I’m only taking her to the kingdom so I can get my satchel back, I firmly remind myself.
I faintly hear the church bells ringing from the kingdom. Blondie pushes between us and starts to look for the sound’s origins. As I watch her walk away, that no-good horse hits me in the gut.
I feel the air woosh out of my lungs as I fall to the earth. Oh, so that’s how he is going to play, is he?
Part of me wants to tell Blondie what he did, but that would mean I would have to confess that I was too busy watching her and I wasn’t manly enough to remaining standing after the unexpected attack.
Nope, I think with a wave of annoyance as I stand up gingerly, that horse won this round.
As I finally get air back into my lungs after that deranged horse punched–hoofed?–me, I watch Blondie look out and see the kingdom in all of its glory for the first time. If I wasn’t so concerned with the idea of becoming intimately acquainted with the noose that hangs in the middle of the castle prison, I might think the view wasn’t half-bad myself.
I find my boot on the ground and grab it before Max gets any ideas. I sit on the thick root and look at Blondie who is still taking in the view of Corona. “Quite a view, isn’t it?” I call as I put on my drool-covered boot back on my foot.
“Eugene,” she replies, turning back to me and beaming, “it’s amazing!”
A smile tugs on my lips. There is no question her enthusiasm is infectious. It might even be more effective than my smolder, I realize nervously.
“We should probably get on our way.” I wave her forward down the road that leads to the kingdom. To my surprise, she hesitates.
“I have something I need to take care of before we go,” she explains, walking back to the extinguished campfire.
“Your frying pan?” I ask, raising an eyebrow “I really don’t think you’ll need that once you enter the kingdom gates.”
She crosses her arms and doesn’t say anything. Her frog gives me a pointed look; his message is clear: Back off, buddy.
“Fine,” I reply, raising my hands in defense. It probably has something to do with the upkeep of her magical hair. “You do whatever you need to.”
While she does whatever a person with magic hair does in secret, I decide to scope the area for any gung-ho soldiers that happened to follow Max. After a few seconds of searching, I decide that the main road is, thankfully, solider-free. I turn back in face my unlikely traveling companions and see that Blondie is patting that horse on his head. Again.
And, once again, he is nuzzling into her hand.
Have I mentioned how much I don’t like that horse?
“You ready or what, Blondie?” I hope my question comes off more disinterested, but I detect an edge to my voice that normally isn’t there.
Please, someone tell me I am not jealous of a horse.
“Yup.” She approaches my side with a grin on her face.
“You gonna tell me what you were doing over there with Max?” The horse huffs indignantly at my nickname for him which makes me want to use his abbreviated name even more than before.
“Nope.”
I tell myself that I don’t really care what she was doing and gesture to the main road. We’re still a little way from the bridge–I am still a wanted fugitive after all–so we need to hurry to see all the festivities the kingdom has to offer.
No, spending the day in the town wasn’t part of the original deal, but if Blondie really is planning on returning to that tower, then the least I can do is give her a memorable birthday, right?
I frown slightly. Flynn Rider isn’t suppose to have any emotional attachments, I remind myself belatedly. However, it’s too late now to change the plans. Besides, what would we do all day? Have a staring contest with her frog?
We walk in relative silence. Well, she’s still busy talking to her frog and that horse, but the only conversation I am having is with myself, reminding the exact reasons why I left the name Eugene Fitzherbert behind for a Flynn Rider way of life.
A little voice in my head --the one I unkindly named Eugene-- whispers a suggestion to me. You want to spend the day with her and have a good time.
No, the internal Flynn quickly rushes in, I want my satchel back. End of story.
Ignorant of my internal struggle, Blondie gives me a sideways glance. “So…any superhuman strength in your hand?”
“No,” I admit, not being able to hide the disappointment. If I did have it, I would have thrown that horse in that river that nearly killed us yesterday, I think bitterly. “Though I was having the most incredible dream –”
Before I could brag about my awesome abilities, Blondie stops suddenly in the middle of the road and points ahead. “Is that a…bridge?” she gasps.
“Yup. The one way in and out of the kingdom.”
She turns to me, her green eyes wide and concerned. “Won’t there be guards in there looking for you on it?” she asks nervously.
“Well, that’s the nice thing, Blondie,” I say, causally draping my arm across her shoulders. Her frog looks at me with a disapproving glare and I drop my arm back to its original position. “They won’t be looking for me there because most criminals don’t actually go back to where they committed their latest crime.”
Her eyebrows push together, not unconvinced by my answer. “What inside the village? Aren’t there guards to protect the people from the wanted criminals?”
Does she doubt the escaping skills on Flynn Rider?
“Don’t worry,” I say smoothly, flashing her my most convincing smile. “I haven’t gotten caught yet.”
That seems to be all the assurance she needs. The worried look is gone. She takes a couple of step forward and shoots me an expectant glance. “So, you were having a dream...” she prompts.
I’ll be honest with you. I’m not used to the idea of people paying attention to what I say. So the fact that Blondie remembers everything I say is a stroke to my delicately fragile ego.
Still...while I am eager to share my dream with an enthusiastic audience, I find myself reconsidering my offer to reveal my subconscious adventure. Explaining the superhuman strength in my hand? Piece of cake. Explaining my desire for a certain person with impossibly long hair to hold my hand? That’s a completely different story.
“Don’t worry about it, Blondie.”
She looks disappointed while her frog gives an indifferent shrug.
Before she can get too upset, we approach the edge of the bridge. With a wave, I encourage her forward. She sprints ahead. Three steps on the bridge is all it takes for her to look back with those wide, green eyes and mouth the word “wow”.
I feel myself smile again.
That horse and I follow behind her, but before I can catch up with her, I see an unwelcome sight in front of me: a wanted poster with that sorry attempt for my face on it. Really, you would think with a castle like that, the royal family would be able to find some kind of decent artist in the kingdom.
I rip the poster down quickly and crumple it in my hands. There is, of course, nowhere for me to throw away the evidence, except for…
Without thinking, I jam that paper in Max’s mouth.
Now that was satisfying.
He, however, has other plans. He spits the paper back onto my face. I rip it off my face, ready to tackle Max right here. At this point I don’t care how ridiculous I look fighting a palace horse on the bridge to the kingdom. A man’s ego can only take so much.
I get in one good shove for every three he gives me. Somehow, my leg ends up in his mouth and and I manage to grab his ear ear, holding that big head of his still.
I’ve got my fist curled up, ready to let him know how I really feel about him. Before things get too intense, I hear a mouthful of squeaking for the top of Blondie’s head. I look guiltily at Pascal who is giving us a mouthful. A frog-size mouthful, but a mouthful nonetheless.
I stop my attack on the horse grudgingly. I did agree to get along with him, didn’t I?
Reluctantly, on both sides, we release each other. I glare at Pascal who seems content that Max and I aren’t going to kill each other.
As soon as that frog turned around, I gave Max a shove for good measure.
Unfortunately for me, he gives me one back.
I could have gone back and forth with Max all day, but as soon as Blondie stepped through the entrance gate, I noticed a problem. A seventy-foot, blonde-colored problem.
Part 2
“Rise and shine, Eugene!”
I am tempted to swat away whoever has the audacity to wake me up so early, especially after the day I had yesterday. My mind is still muddled being half-conscious and all, but I distinctly remember nearly drowning and--even worse--having to sing in front of a group of drunk ruffians.
I flop my arm over my eyes, blocking the sun’s rays from disturbing my slumber. “Go away,” I tell my human alarm clock.
“Eu-gene, it’s time to wake up!”
My sleepy brain slowly recalls who is the owner of the sing-songy voice.
Blondie.
The woman with the impossibly long, magic hair. I lift my arm slightly and crack one eye open, looking for that frog of hers before he gets any ideas of how to wake me up. To my relief, he is perched on Blondie’s shoulder with his tongue in his mouth where it belongs.
“Do you have any time what time it is?” I grumble, longing to return to my blissful slumber.
She bites her lip as she tries to figure out the answer.
“Never mind,” I say, rubbing my eyes. It figures she would wake up when the sun rose. I bet she probably sang a morning song with the birds too. I push myself up with my left hand to a sitting position and immediately notice something is different. I seem almost...lighter.
Last night’s question to Blondie floats into my mind. “Is there any chance that I’m gonna get super strength in my hand?” She had assured me that I wouldn’t get such a thing, but now I’m starting to think she might be wrong.
If my theory is correct and I do have superhuman strength in my hand then this is beyond stupendous. It’s unbelievable. I allow myself to start thinking about what I could possibly steal with my new found strength; the marble statues in the royal museum immediately spring to mind.
This is going to be fun.
I must have a strange look on my face because Blondie starts looking at me intently. “Is everything ok, Eugene?” Her frog appraises me suspiciously.
“I’m fine,” I quickly assure her, practically jumping up in excitement. I dust off my pants and gesture towards the trees. “I’m just going to, um, take care of my business.”
Her cheeks color slightly and she takes a step back. “Oh! Of course. We’ll, um, just be over there.” She turns towards her reptilian companion. “Come on, Pascal.”
Without wasting a second, I dash for the closest grouping of trees. I glance over my shoulder to make sure Blondie and her frog are busy --she’s busy twirling her frying pan in her hand for some reason-- and glance at my left hand.
Well, it’s not glowing or anything. I frown. I distinctly remember Blondie’s hair lighting up when she sang that strange song that made her hair turn magical. Now I’m starting to wonder if I imagined the sensation when I first woke up.
There’s only one way to know for sure.
I approach a boulder and eye it critically. Nope, there is no way that anyone could pick that thing up (maybe except for that gargantuan thug at the Snuggly Duckling). I lean down, grip the giant rock and lift it up.
It’s as light as a feather.
Un-believable. Those trunks full of gold coins in the royal treasury won’t stand a chance against me, I think with a boastful grin. This is going to make thieving almost seem too easy...not that it was much of a challenge before.
I spin the boulder around once for good measure before tossing it into the river. Part of me wants to see just how strong I have become and try to uproot one of these enormous trees, but I know Blondie will come looking for me pretty soon, so I nix the idea.
As I approach the campsite, I decide to keep my newly bestowed superhuman strength a secret for now. If I tell Blondie, she will probably make me promise to only use the powers for good or something else equally as philanthropic.
And that would be a terrible waste.
I step out from the trees and call out to my unlikely traveling companions. “We need to get going, Blondie. The kingdom isn’t that much further from here.”
She claps her hands and practically skips to me. “When do you think we’ll get there?”
I look over the tops of the trees and squint. In the distance, I can see the top of the palace. “A couple of hours. Maybe a little more. It depends how far that river carried us yesterday.”
She lets out an squeal of excitement. She grabs my right wrist and gives me a tug. As we start down the road, I realize we should probably be more cautious about guards patrolling the area, but I figure with my brute strength, I’ll be able to toss them into the river.
Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun.
The next two hours are spent walking and answering Blondie’s never-ending questions. Not that I mind too much. Not after the gift she has given me, even if she doesn’t know about it yet.
I’m busy admiring my hand again --can you blame me?-- when my attention is pulled away from it by Blondie’s concerned voice.
“Um, I think we have a problem, Eugene.”
I look away from my hand to see what is troubling Blondie. An enormous tree that has fallen due to the dam rupture is now blocking the path–the only path–that leads to the bridge into kingdom. The trunk itself is a couple of yards high and the overgrowth around the road is so dense, we won’t be able to go through it.
Nope, I think smugly, that tree is going to have to move out of our way. I watch as she sends her hair sailing to one of the larger branches. It wraps itself around the bough, but the wood splinters as soon as she tries to give her hair a tug. She tries again and again, but is no closer to moving the tree.
With an annoyed sigh, she slumps to the ground, tears in her eyes. “Eugene, I’m not sure we can get past that.” Even her frog, who is now blue--literally--seems to have given up hope. He leans into her shoulder and chirps sadly.
However, unlike Miss Negativity and her pet, I’m not worried about the tree at all. I hold up my hand to silence any other worries she may have and give it another admiring glance. I guess it’s time for me to let her in on my little secret.
“I’ve got this covered, Blondie,” I assure her with a wink.
It could have been my imagination, but I swore she swooned slightly.
Before she can say anything, I pick up the gigantic tree with my left hand and toss it effortlessly into the overgrowth, several yards away. I turn back to her with my perfectly confident smile in place. “What did I tell you?”
“Eugene!” she squeals, jumping up and practically dancing in the middle of the road with excitement. “You do have super human strength in your hand!”
I examine my hand closely, admiring it. “I do, don’t I?”
To my surprise, she grabs my hand and looks at it closely. She gently runs her fingers over mine, as if trying to feel the power running through them. I tell myself I do not enjoy the feel of her soft fingers touching my calloused ones.
Oh, who I am kidding?
I am absolutely relishing in the fact that she is so interested in my hand. She has turned it over in her palm and seems content to give it the attention it duly deserves. Her soft fingers trace over the lines that run across my palm.
I’m plenty satisfied to stay here all day and let her idolize my hand, which will no doubt be the source of many legends, but a few seconds later, I have a sudden change of heart when her frog scurries down her arm and starts pressing his tiny green hand into my palm.
“Yes, yes,” I say, pulling my hand away roughly, “we’re all impressed with the hand that has the strength of a thousand men.”
I ignore the disappointment that passes over Blondie’s face and start walking down the path to the kingdom. That woman needs to teach her pet a little something about personal space, I decide as she approaches my side.
All of my ire is forgotten seconds later because I feel an unfamiliar sensation.
Blondie is holding my hand.
To my horror, I let out a strangled squeak. Quickly, I recover and clear my throat. “Er, what do you think you are doing there, Blondie?”
Was it me or did my voice crack in the middle of my sentence?
She raises an eyebrow at me, smiling slyly. “I’m making sure you don’t get yourself into trouble with your new superhuman strength. Since I’m the one who gave you the power, you’re my responsibility now.”
I’m pretty sure I could get into a lot more trouble with her holding my hand, if the awkward, but not exactly unpleasant, feeling running through me is any indication. “Your responsibility?” The question comes off much more needy than I like.
“Yup.”
Just as I’m about to ask her what, exactly, those responsibilities are, Mother Nature unexpectedly decides to distract me.
A big, fat drop of rain hits my cheek.
Frowning, I look up in the sky. But, I realize with a wave of confusion, there are no clouds, just blue sky and the too bright sun. And yet, I feel another drop of water hit my face.
“Um, Blondie…” I start, slightly concerned. What if that magical hair of hers makes you delusional?
Suddenly I realize that I can’t feel her holding my hand anymore. Before I can finish the sentence, she starts disappearing before my eyes.
The world around me starts to fade.
This is a dream, I finally realize. Once I am pulled from my subconscious world of superhuman strength, I am left with no other option than to open my eyes.
And I am greeted by that palace horse that has been chasing me since the crown heist yesterday, soaking wet and snarling just inches above my face. It’s rather repulsive really.
I open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind. “Well, I hope you’re here to apologize.” And with that, I settle down to catch up on some more sleep.
Apparently, that was not the right thing to say because the next thing I know, that horse is dragging me across grass. With nothing to grab --and sadly having a lack of superhuman strength-- I am powerless to stop this horse from taking me from the campsite. Grabbing the grass proves fruitless as I see Blondie getting smaller in the distance.
I might have let out a rather unmanly yelp as he continues to pull me away from Blondie and her frog. “No no no! Put me down!” I beg.
I’m relieved to see Blondie wake instantly, jump up and rush to my aid. Hey, after the past twenty-four hours, I’ve gotten used to the idea of her coming to my rescue.
“Stop it!” I shout to the horse.
He doesn’t listen. Seriously, the royal guard should consider retraining him to obey the commands given to him.
Blondie has just about reached me which is a good thing because I’m pretty sure I just swallowed a mouthful of grass. She grabs my wrists and starts pulling me in the opposite direction towards the burnt-out campfire.
Believe or not, she manages to stop that horse from going any farther. Who knew that she had that much upper body strength? Maybe that magical hair of hers does give people superhuman power, I think hopefully.
I hold on to her wrists tightly as she gives me a tug. Now that she has managed to keep me from getting dragged into the palace prison, I am not loosening my grip until I am away from that unnaturally obsessive horse.
“Let. Me. Go,” I demand with no results. Maybe this horse doesn’t understand basic instruction.
Or maybe he just doesn’t like me.
Either way, he’s not going to release me without a fight. I vaguely wonder if it’s possible to actually rip a person in half as he gives a particularly tough tug in his direction. Being a human rope in the contest of tug-of-war between the two of them is becoming rather painful, but there is absolutely no way I am letting go of Blondie.
“Give me him,” she grits out.
Yeah, I think, give me to her!
“Stop stop stop!” I shout, hoping that somehow the horse starts listening to my pleas.
Not surprisingly, he doesn’t listen.
Blondie gives one more tug and I go sailing over her head with one bootless foot. That was rather impressive, I must admit. But there is no time for praise; I press myself against the trunk of the tree, not particularly caring that Flynn Rider would never let a woman stand between him and danger. Eugene Fitzherbert is perfectly content to let Blondie fight his wars for him.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she repeats as she effectively blocks him from grabbing me again. “Easy boy. Easy.”
I’m still scrambling up the base of the tree, watching my boot flop helplessly in that beast’s mouth. Doesn’t he know that it took a lot of effort to steal that from the shoemaker?
“Easy boy,” she says again.
Amazingly, that horse actually seems to listen to her! He stops his lunging and stays in place, though he doesn’t look too happy about it.
I’m starting to wonder if that magical hair of hers allows her to speak to animals. Or at least talk them out of demented fits of rage.
Suddenly, I notice that frog of hers is sitting on top of her head. He gestures with his hands, communicating in some mysterious animal language. Why couldn’t he have jumped in the conversation before I ended up being nearly torn in two?
“That’s it,” she continues. “Now sit. Sit!”
That horse actually sits down.
“What?” I sputter as I question what kind of madness I signed up for in agreeing to take her to the kingdom.
Blondie doesn’t even bother turning in my direction. That horse has her full, undivided attention. “Now, drop the boot,” she commands, pointing towards the ground. “Drop it.”
I’ll give you one guess to figure out what he does.
Blondie rewards obedience by cuddling him. Hey, she didn’t do anything like that to me when I agreed to take her to see the lanterns yesterday! Not that I wanted her to, I quickly tell myself. It’s just the principal of the thing.
“Awww! You’re such a good boy,” she coos. Despite not having eaten in nearly twenty-four hours, I feel my stomach start to churn at the unadulterated sappiness. “Yes, you are. You all tired from chasing this bad man all over the place?”
Now wait just a second. He’s the good boy and I’m the bad man? Maybe this is the time to remind her that he nearly caused us to drown the day before and I’m the one escorting her to the kingdom. “Excuse me?”
She, however, is not interested in what I have to say. Neither is the horse, apparently. “Nobody appreciates you, do they? Do they?”
He shakes his head and huffs, leaning into her touch.
I cannot believe this. Why couldn’t this have been my dream and I wake up to have superhuman strength in my hand?
“Oh come on! He’s a bad horse,” I argue. Quite effectively, I might add.
Blondie is not convinced by my profound argument. “Oh, he’s nothing but a big sweetheart. Isn’t that right...” She looks at his name tag. “...Maximus?”
At least the target of my anger has a name, but seriously, how can Blondie really think that horse has any redeeming qualities about him? And, really, a sweetheart? That thing? “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Max gives me a glare.
It’s a good thing I’m not scared of him while Blondie is in between us.
Blondie puts her hand on his head, calming him. “Look. Today is kind of the biggest day of my life and the thing is...”
She grabs my arm and pulls me up. I resist the urge to go running in the opposite direction of the horse. “...I need you to not get him arrested.”
I know I should be paying attention to the horse, but I realize that I’m focusing too much attention on the fact that Blondie’s hand feels just as soft as it had when she had held it in my dream.
Max and that ridiculous scowl --I mean, what kind of horse scowls?-- pulls me from the thoughts I should not be thinking.
“Just for twenty-four hours and then you can chase each other to your heart’s content,” she offers.
I sigh. Obviously I’m going to have to be the bigger man, or horse, here. I stick out my hand for him to shake, forgetting how ridiculous the idea of shaking hands with a horse is.
Max is not impressed by my gesture of peace. He turns away with a huff.
That’s it! If he’s not even going to humor Blondie’s request than maybe I should show him what I really thought about his wake up call.
Blondie, however, is still turning on the charm. “And it’s also my birthday. Just so you know.”
That broke him. With a snort and a sigh, he shakes my hand.
Suddenly, Blondie’s words catch up with me. Birthday…Wait, what? Why didn’t she tell me that it was her birthday yesterday?
I pull myself up short. Why does it matter if today is her birthday? I’m only taking her to the kingdom so I can get my satchel back, I firmly remind myself.
I faintly hear the church bells ringing from the kingdom. Blondie pushes between us and starts to look for the sound’s origins. As I watch her walk away, that no-good horse hits me in the gut.
I feel the air woosh out of my lungs as I fall to the earth. Oh, so that’s how he is going to play, is he?
Part of me wants to tell Blondie what he did, but that would mean I would have to confess that I was too busy watching her and I wasn’t manly enough to remaining standing after the unexpected attack.
Nope, I think with a wave of annoyance as I stand up gingerly, that horse won this round.
As I finally get air back into my lungs after that deranged horse punched–hoofed?–me, I watch Blondie look out and see the kingdom in all of its glory for the first time. If I wasn’t so concerned with the idea of becoming intimately acquainted with the noose that hangs in the middle of the castle prison, I might think the view wasn’t half-bad myself.
I find my boot on the ground and grab it before Max gets any ideas. I sit on the thick root and look at Blondie who is still taking in the view of Corona. “Quite a view, isn’t it?” I call as I put on my drool-covered boot back on my foot.
“Eugene,” she replies, turning back to me and beaming, “it’s amazing!”
A smile tugs on my lips. There is no question her enthusiasm is infectious. It might even be more effective than my smolder, I realize nervously.
“We should probably get on our way.” I wave her forward down the road that leads to the kingdom. To my surprise, she hesitates.
“I have something I need to take care of before we go,” she explains, walking back to the extinguished campfire.
“Your frying pan?” I ask, raising an eyebrow “I really don’t think you’ll need that once you enter the kingdom gates.”
She crosses her arms and doesn’t say anything. Her frog gives me a pointed look; his message is clear: Back off, buddy.
“Fine,” I reply, raising my hands in defense. It probably has something to do with the upkeep of her magical hair. “You do whatever you need to.”
While she does whatever a person with magic hair does in secret, I decide to scope the area for any gung-ho soldiers that happened to follow Max. After a few seconds of searching, I decide that the main road is, thankfully, solider-free. I turn back in face my unlikely traveling companions and see that Blondie is patting that horse on his head. Again.
And, once again, he is nuzzling into her hand.
Have I mentioned how much I don’t like that horse?
“You ready or what, Blondie?” I hope my question comes off more disinterested, but I detect an edge to my voice that normally isn’t there.
Please, someone tell me I am not jealous of a horse.
“Yup.” She approaches my side with a grin on her face.
“You gonna tell me what you were doing over there with Max?” The horse huffs indignantly at my nickname for him which makes me want to use his abbreviated name even more than before.
“Nope.”
I tell myself that I don’t really care what she was doing and gesture to the main road. We’re still a little way from the bridge–I am still a wanted fugitive after all–so we need to hurry to see all the festivities the kingdom has to offer.
No, spending the day in the town wasn’t part of the original deal, but if Blondie really is planning on returning to that tower, then the least I can do is give her a memorable birthday, right?
I frown slightly. Flynn Rider isn’t suppose to have any emotional attachments, I remind myself belatedly. However, it’s too late now to change the plans. Besides, what would we do all day? Have a staring contest with her frog?
We walk in relative silence. Well, she’s still busy talking to her frog and that horse, but the only conversation I am having is with myself, reminding the exact reasons why I left the name Eugene Fitzherbert behind for a Flynn Rider way of life.
A little voice in my head --the one I unkindly named Eugene-- whispers a suggestion to me. You want to spend the day with her and have a good time.
No, the internal Flynn quickly rushes in, I want my satchel back. End of story.
Ignorant of my internal struggle, Blondie gives me a sideways glance. “So…any superhuman strength in your hand?”
“No,” I admit, not being able to hide the disappointment. If I did have it, I would have thrown that horse in that river that nearly killed us yesterday, I think bitterly. “Though I was having the most incredible dream –”
Before I could brag about my awesome abilities, Blondie stops suddenly in the middle of the road and points ahead. “Is that a…bridge?” she gasps.
“Yup. The one way in and out of the kingdom.”
She turns to me, her green eyes wide and concerned. “Won’t there be guards in there looking for you on it?” she asks nervously.
“Well, that’s the nice thing, Blondie,” I say, causally draping my arm across her shoulders. Her frog looks at me with a disapproving glare and I drop my arm back to its original position. “They won’t be looking for me there because most criminals don’t actually go back to where they committed their latest crime.”
Her eyebrows push together, not unconvinced by my answer. “What inside the village? Aren’t there guards to protect the people from the wanted criminals?”
Does she doubt the escaping skills on Flynn Rider?
“Don’t worry,” I say smoothly, flashing her my most convincing smile. “I haven’t gotten caught yet.”
That seems to be all the assurance she needs. The worried look is gone. She takes a couple of step forward and shoots me an expectant glance. “So, you were having a dream...” she prompts.
I’ll be honest with you. I’m not used to the idea of people paying attention to what I say. So the fact that Blondie remembers everything I say is a stroke to my delicately fragile ego.
Still...while I am eager to share my dream with an enthusiastic audience, I find myself reconsidering my offer to reveal my subconscious adventure. Explaining the superhuman strength in my hand? Piece of cake. Explaining my desire for a certain person with impossibly long hair to hold my hand? That’s a completely different story.
“Don’t worry about it, Blondie.”
She looks disappointed while her frog gives an indifferent shrug.
Before she can get too upset, we approach the edge of the bridge. With a wave, I encourage her forward. She sprints ahead. Three steps on the bridge is all it takes for her to look back with those wide, green eyes and mouth the word “wow”.
I feel myself smile again.
That horse and I follow behind her, but before I can catch up with her, I see an unwelcome sight in front of me: a wanted poster with that sorry attempt for my face on it. Really, you would think with a castle like that, the royal family would be able to find some kind of decent artist in the kingdom.
I rip the poster down quickly and crumple it in my hands. There is, of course, nowhere for me to throw away the evidence, except for…
Without thinking, I jam that paper in Max’s mouth.
Now that was satisfying.
He, however, has other plans. He spits the paper back onto my face. I rip it off my face, ready to tackle Max right here. At this point I don’t care how ridiculous I look fighting a palace horse on the bridge to the kingdom. A man’s ego can only take so much.
I get in one good shove for every three he gives me. Somehow, my leg ends up in his mouth and and I manage to grab his ear ear, holding that big head of his still.
I’ve got my fist curled up, ready to let him know how I really feel about him. Before things get too intense, I hear a mouthful of squeaking for the top of Blondie’s head. I look guiltily at Pascal who is giving us a mouthful. A frog-size mouthful, but a mouthful nonetheless.
I stop my attack on the horse grudgingly. I did agree to get along with him, didn’t I?
Reluctantly, on both sides, we release each other. I glare at Pascal who seems content that Max and I aren’t going to kill each other.
As soon as that frog turned around, I gave Max a shove for good measure.
Unfortunately for me, he gives me one back.
I could have gone back and forth with Max all day, but as soon as Blondie stepped through the entrance gate, I noticed a problem. A seventy-foot, blonde-colored problem.
Part 2