yappichick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
yappichick) wrote2011-09-30 11:01 am
yappichick) wrote2011-09-30 11:01 am
Taming the Rider (2/4), [Tangled]
Perhaps we should have thought about what we should do with Blondie’s hair before we crossed the bridge. People are stepping and nearly tripping over her long hair. I watch as she tries to move out of people’s way but it’s no use, people are still stumbling over it. Sprinting ahead, I start scooping up her hair as she does the same thing. I meet her with my arms full of hair and an annoyed look.
I know it’s not her fault that she can’t cut her hair, but this isn’t going to work. I need to come up with a plan or we might as well turn around and leave the kingdom right now. Knowing that Max would probably want nothing more than to chase me around the forest all day, I am eager to find a solution.
Fortunately, our three foot heroines are only ten feet away from us. The quartet of girls are sitting on the fountain, doing each other’s hair. Oh, do I have some hair for them. With a whistle and a hopeful look, I hold the hair up for the girls to see.
If their collective gasp is any indication, they are up to the task of trying to tame Blondie’s hair. They scramble from their position and run to Blondie.
“Think you can handle this?” I ask, nodding to the pile of hair.
The four of them ogle the mass of hair in our hands. Their eyes--and smiles--widen as they study Blondie. I’m pretty sure she has just made four new best friends.
“Of course!” The oldest one says with a toothless grin. The other three giggle and nod. “But we need to find some place we can work.”
“About behind Chef Gusto’s bakery?” another girl suggests. “There is a lot of room there!”
“That’s perfect!” another enthuses.
“Lead the way,” I reply with a grin.
The four of them grab Blondie’s hands, leaving me to pick up the pile of hair that falls to the ground. I swear I hear Max laughing from behind me, but by the time I turn to him with a scowl in place, there is no sign of mirth on his face. Pascal, however, seems quite amused at my predicament.
“Come on,” I mutter.
He ambles up Max’s leg and settles himself in the horse’s thick mane. They walk to the side of me as I do my best to keep up with Blondie and her new found hairdressers.
We follow them through the city streets while they giggle and chatter to themselves. “Your hair is so long!” one girl says, looking up at Blondie. “Doesn’t it get heavy?”
Blondie shakes her head. “No, but brushing it does take a while.”
“You should have your friend help you brush it!” the girl in the middle says, looking at my direction. “Then it won’t take so long!”
Blondie glances at me. I give her a “don’t even think about it” look. “I don’t think he likes brushing hair too much,” she finally replies.
“But brushing hair is so much fun!”
“I hope I have hair as long as her when I grow up,” the oldest girl proclaims.
“Me too!” the other three gush.
They continue weaving through the streets. We get a couple of strange looks, but no one says anything about the woman with the impossibly long hair and the man who has found himself tending to it.
I make my way to Blondie’s side. She gives me a concerned look. “Eugene,” she whispers, not wanting her new friends to be able to hear her, “don’t you think braiding all of my hair is asking too much for them?”
I laugh at her concern. “Believe me, Blondie, you have made their year.”
She looks uncertain for a few seconds, but, honestly, she’s left with little choice. I’m certainly not going to braid her hair and I’m pretty sure her frog’s hands are not up to the task. She glances at the girls, then back at me. “If you say so.”
When we get to end of the street where the girls plan on making a make-shift beauty parlor, they let go off Blondie’s hand. They circle around her, looking at her hair.
“We’ll need a brush!”
“I already have one!”
“Just kneel on the ground!”
“We’ll take care of the rest!”
Blondie complies with their request and kneels on the ground, sending me one final unsure look before turning away from me. The girls separate her hair into three equal pieces and set to the enormous task of brushing out her hair.
As they continue working through the tangles, I’m surprised that Blondie doesn’t have more knots (or branches or pebbles for that matter) in her mess of hair. Maybe she can sing that magical song of hers and her hair becomes untangled. Or maybe I’m thinking far too much about the subject of the blonde mass on top of her head.
Thirty minutes later, Blondie’s hair is completely brushed and the girls set to the take of braiding her hair. Contented giggles fill the air as the girls take turn jumping over her hair as they braid it.
Satisfied that everything is fine, I lean against the nearby wall and watch the girls perform their magic. Just as I think they are about to finish, the littlest girl looks at the others. “Do you know what else she needs?”
“Flowers!” The other three shout in unison.
“Don’t move! We’ll be right back!”
As they scamper away, Blondie turned to face me, smiling brightly. “Well, they didn’t seem to mind too much, did they?” She fingers the thick braid thoughtfully.
“I told you not to worry,” I call to her with a smug grin.
Her lips curl up into a smile as the girls come back, their hands full of flowers. They start weaving them through Blondie’s hair as if they had been waiting for her to walk through the kingdom gates all of their lives.
I watch them for a minute before I notice a pair of figures approaching us. Royal Guards.
With a slightly panicked look, I tuck myself behind the wall and hope that they aren’t expecting for one of the most notorious thieves in the kingdom to be within the main gates. Max seems as though he’s about to let me know what he thinks about me and my criminal ways, but as I look ahead, I discover I don’t really care about anything except for what’s in front of me.
I swallow thickly as she swishes her braid back and forth before giving a spin and a “thank you” to the girls. An unfamiliar warmth spreads throughout me and I find myself smiling softly in Blondie’s direction.
She really is beautiful.
I could have gone on for a few more seconds studying my unexpected traveling companion, but instead, Max decides it’s a good time to lean in and give me a hard time. He waggles his eyebrows at me, calling me on my overt admiration of the woman in front of me.
Was I that obvious?
I push him away, more annoyed at myself for being so openly smitten than at him for calling me out on my behavior. Flynn Rider does not have long term commitments, I remind myself again.
The girls run off in the direction they came, probably to tell the other kids in the kingdom about the hair that was like none other. Blondie takes a couple of steps towards the three of us.
“They did a great job, didn’t they?” She spins in front of me one more time for good measure.
“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about people tripping over your hair.” I could almost see a wave of disappointment that passed over her. Inwardly I sigh. Just because I compliment her doesn’t mean I’m going to end up married to her or anything. “And, yeah, they did. It looks good.”
The spark in her eye is back along with that unwelcome feeling of contentment that flows through me. Come on, Flynn, just one more day and that satchel will be yours.
I’m shocked to realize that doesn’t matter to me as much as it had yesterday.
A change of topic is most definitely in order, I suddenly decide. “So, you hungry?” I know I am. I barely grabbed a bite to eat with the boys before the crown heist yesterday. It’s not good to run from the law on a full stomach.
She nods emphatically, her frog copies her action. She looks around at all of the small vendors in the area. We could go inside Gusto’s bakery, but I have plans to come back later.
I lead her down the road to a small cart that is easy to pilfer from. Oh, that’s right. Blondie and Max would probably disapprove of that sort of behavior. I’m not so sure about Pascal though, he is looking rather hungry himself. I certainly have enough money to afford whatever Blondie could possibly want so I gesture in the direction of the half dozen carts. “Take your pick.”
She studies each vendor carefully. Some people have breads, others have fruits and vegetables. The large cart has several dozen sausages hanging from their display. My stomach rumbles at the sight, but with Blondie’s ability to talk to animals, I’m going to guess that she stays away from eating anything with meat in it.
Finally, her gaze settles on the fruit stand. I give the smoked meats one last lingering glance before turning back to Blondie. She already has several pieces of ripe fruit in her hand, plenty for us to eat. I reach in my small satchel and fetch out the money. Blondie watches the exchange with deep interest. I’m sure the concept of someone giving tiny, shiny circles for food seems more strange than having magical hair.
Purchases in hand, we walk to an abandoned part of the street. Blondie carefully sets the assortment of fruit on Max’s saddle. She picks off a grape for her frog and hold it out for him. His tongue flies out and captures the fruit. An apple is held out for Max to take, who gobbles it down so quickly, I’m afraid he’s taken half of Blondie’s hand with it. Fortunately, when she steps back, I see that she has all of her fingers.
She considers the remaining fruit, a plum and a pile of strawberries. “Which one do you want, Eugene?”
Neither of them seem particularly appealing, so I graciously say, “It’s your day, Blondie. You pick.”
She considers her decision carefully. Nearly a minute passes and my stomach is starting to wonder why I thought it was a good decision to let her choose what to eat. Just as I’m about to renege on my offer, she picks up the plum.
Without wasting for her to take a bite, I grab a couple of strawberries and pop them in my mouth. I’m contently chewing on them so I don’t pay attention to when Blondie decides to take a huge bite out of her plum.
Big mistake.
I don’t know what the farmer that grew that plum put in the soil, but the plum has to be the juiciest piece of fruit on the planet. The big drop of plum nectar lands in my eye. “Gah!” I cry, bringing my hand up to my eye.
Max starts laughing. Pascal is quick to join in. I give them a glare with my good eye. Only Blondie seems concerned with my well-being.
“I am so sorry, Eugene!” She carefully pulls my hand away from my eye. It’s watering so all I see is a blurry blonde blob. “Are you alright?”
A tear slides down my face.
She gasps then frowns. “You’re crying!” Her hands hover around my head as if she’s unsure what she should do.
“No. My eye is watering.” There is a manly difference.
She looks around for something to help me out. I hold out a hand to stop her as I bring my other hand back up to my eye. “I’m fine, Blondie. Really.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Just...eat your plum by Max.” I blink several times, relieved to feel that the stinging sensation is starting to fade away.
Blondie moves away from me, still looking at me carefully. “I am so sorry, Eugene.”
I wave off her apology. At least this was a mistake, hitting me in the head with a frying pan--twice--wasn’t.
And she still hasn’t apologized for that.
She finishes eating her plum carefully, covering any stray drop that might try to go flying from her mouth. Now that I am convinced that there is no lasting damage in my eye, I grab the remaining strawberries and gobble them down, making sure that I’m facing away from Blondie and her plum.
“So,” I say as I finish the last of my breakfast, “where do you want to go first?”
Her eyes sparkle at the idea that she could actually decide where to go. I realize that this was probably the first time she had ever been given that option in her life.
“Can we see it all?”
The hope is so evident in her eyes that even if it was impossible to do, I would have figured out some way to show her everything the kingdom had to offer. I frown slightly, uneasy at her uncanny ability to make me do things--like reveal my real name and back story--that I would never think I’d ever do.
I really need to stop looking in those big, green eyes of hers. They are going to get me into more trouble than my thieving habit.
But, I can’t help myself and look at them again. Instantly, I think about when we were sitting in front of that campfire last night and looking at them, all innocent and hopeful. My self-control had nearly broken right then and there. I had wanted to kiss her.
No, I correct myself, I had really wanted to kiss her.
And that’s why I had to walk away.
I close my eyes and try to think of the satchel and the extremely valuable contents in it. I force myself to think of that castle I wanted so badly yesterday. To think about the future that I have always dreamed about since I was ten years old and read The Tales of Flynnigan Rider for the first time.
Instead, my treasonous thoughts show me Blondie, smiling that grin of hers with her eyebrow raised in amusement. I shove those thoughts out of my mind. Very forcibly.
Remember the satchel, Flynn.
The satchel.
The satchel.
“Eugene?”
Oops. My mental argument must have taken too long. Blondie --and that frog of hers-- is looking at me strangely. “The whole kingdom? You’ve got it,” I hear myself say, wondering why I thought it was such a good idea to spend the entire day with her.
As she flashes a wide smile at me, I realize it’s because I am a complete and utter masochist.
**********************
Now that our stomachs are full, it’s time to start that tour that Blondie requested. But before we head to the main street, I need to make sure Blondie understands what is going on. “When we see a guard...” I prompt.
She crosses her arms and looks at me pointedly. I’m pretty sure she’s wishing she had her frying pan with her right now. “We’ve been over this five times already, Eugene! I know what to do, I just want to see everything in the kingdom.”
OK, so I might have rehearsed the ‘how to escape from the royal guard’ routine one too many times. But really, can she –or anyone else for that matter– blame me for my somewhat apprehensive behavior? This is the first time that I’ve ever allowed myself in a position where I am completely and utterly vulnerable to capture.
And I’m not just talking about the guards either, if you know what I mean.
She, however, seems completely unaware of how close I am to shrugging off the Flynn Rider persona --just for the day, mind you -- and letting myself, the rarely-acknowledged Eugene, enjoy the day in the company of a beautiful woman.
“All right, let’s go,” I say, wondering how long I’m going to be able to remain strong in the face of the perkiness that is Blondie.
Not long apparently.
As she grabs my wrist to pull me down the street, I admit defeat.
Flynn Rider is officially taking the day off.
I look at Max and before glancing back to the main part of the village. There is no way that a palace horse is going to go unnoticed while we walk through the kingdom. In fact, I think distastefully, I wouldn’t put it past him to start making a scene to catch the guards’ attention, promise or no.
He, however, seems content to wait at the main fountain in the town’s center. When I stare at him, dumb-founded, for a second too long, he huffs and looks meaningfully at Blondie, then me, then the town square.
“Max wants to stay here and get a drink, don’t you, boy?” Blondie says, as if I hadn’t picked up on the horse’s not subtle gestures.
Max nods as if to say finally, a human who understands me!
Hey, I’m not going to argue with his idea. “What about your frog?” I ask, looking around for her green companion.
I find him fast sleep on Max’s mane. In fact, I’m pretty sure I hear him snoring.
“He had a long day yesterday,” Blondie whispers. She lifts up a thick strand of Max’s mane and covers it over Pascal. “Please take care of him,” she charges Max.
He nods carefully, making sure not to send her frog flying in the air.
With a cocky salute, I turn away from Max and we start our tour of the kingdom. The streets are filled with people who are busily moving back and forth between the vendors. I watch as Blondie tries to take everything in around her. She gasps and points and grins at all of the new sights.
I’m having trouble keeping up with her, but I don’t think she notices. She grabs my hand –again!– and pulls me down the cobblestone road. We stop momentarily at yet another fruit stand. Blondie picks up two lemons, inspects them for a fraction of a second and hands them to me. I barely have time to catch them before she is pulling me in another direction.
I only hope the shop keeper was able to catch them as she whisked me away.
“Everything here is so wonderful here!” she coos. Yes, she actually coos. We stop in the middle of the intersection. She spins around, taking notice of the stores that are on the four corners.
“Is that…a shop that sells dresses?” she asks in amazement.
I look to where she is pointing. There is a large window with several of the aforementioned garments in it.
What is it with women –even one that has been trapped in a tower her whole life– and clothes?
I shrug. “It looks like it.”
“Can we go inside?”
She did not just use the word “we”, did she?
Her expectant look answers my unspoken question. I take several steps away from the dress shop. “Whoa there, Blondie. I don’t go dress shopping. You, however, are free to go in there.”
“Eugene, I don’t even know what to do! You have to come with me!” she pleads.
I shake my head stubbornly. “Not gonna do it.”
She crosses her arms. “You said you were going to be my guide.”
I gesture to the large wooden door with an impatient wave of my hand. “I’m guiding you to the entrance.”
“That doesn’t count.” She reaches over and grabs my forearm, but my feet are firmly planted to the ground. She might have gotten me to agree to take her to see the lanterns, spill my previously unknown back story, and establish a truce with Max, but even I have my breaking point.
“Look in there Blondie,” I say, shifting my gaze to the window. “Notice something? Like the lack of any other men in there?”
She turns her head and does as I request. As three women come into view, she reluctantly nods.
“Go. Have a good time,” I encourage. “I’ll just have a look around the stalls that don’t pertain to women’s clothing.”
She looks at me suspiciously for a second. As if I’ll leave her after everything we’ve been through. Or without my satchel, I add quickly. But, apparently, she can’t resist the siren call of the dresses because she grins. “You’ll be back?”
“I promise.” There’s no reason to tell her that, outside of her, my promises are good for nothing.
To my utter shock, she lunged herself at me and hugs me. She gives me a quick squeeze and leans close to my ear. “Thank you so much for taking me here, Eugene.” She smiles as I resist the urge to lean into her.
I don’t even have time to respond before she bounces away. I watch her step into the dress shop, a wide smile already in place, with an undoubtedly ridiculous grin on my face. From the window, she gives me a little wave.
Without thinking, I give her one back.
Suddenly, my thoughts do catch up with me. I’m acting like I’m smitten! Like a lovesick teenager! As I watch her pick an aqua dress from inside, I wonder if that is really such a bad thing.
I push away the thoughts as I turn my attention to the task at hand. I still have to fulfill my commitment to Blondie about the lanterns, don’t I?
Quickly, I make my way to the docks and find an unsuspecting fool that will help me with my plan I came up with last night.
There.
I see a middle-aged man standing at the end of the dock, trying to tie his boat with a thick rope to the piling. The boat is a good size, plenty of room for Blondie, her frog and me and not enough for Max. Perfect.
“Hey,” I say in my most Charming voice. “You gonna be using that later tonight?”
His eyes narrow slightly and I wonder if he’s seen the poorly drawn picture of me on a wanted poster. Finally, he shakes his head and I realize that I’m in no trouble of being discovered.
“No,” he finally answers, giving the rope a good, solid tug. “The Misses and I are going to be celebrating the Lantern Ceremony at our home.” He straightens and looks me in the eye. “Why? You’re wanting to take the misses out on the water tonight?”
I cough and sputter at his question which he finds uproariously amusing for some reason.
Rapunzel and me married?
Nope.
Not going to happen.
Ever.
I just want to make sure she has a good enough view of the lanterns to insure the return of my satchel. That’s all.
I’m wondering if there is any part of me that is actually convinced by my internal assertion.
Now is not the time for me to be thinking about dangerous things like my desire to spend time beyond today with Blondie. I recover quickly and give him what hopefully looks like a sheepish smile. “Well, she’s not my misses yet.”
He comes over and clasps my shoulder briefly. “Ah, young love.” He laughs heartily. “Sure, you can use the boat tonight. Just bring it her back here when you’re done. Alright, son?”
I flinch at the offhanded nickname, but force a smile from my lips. “Sure thing.”
“In fact, I’ll even put a couple of lanterns in the boat for later. I wouldn’t want you two to miss out on that.” He winks at me and I wonder if somehow I found a human incarnation of cupid.
“Um, sure. That sounds great.”
He watches me for a second. “Is this your first lantern ceremony with the lucky lady?”
I nod. “Yup. I’m trying to give her a night that she will never forget, you know?” After eighteen years, I imagine her expectations are pretty high. I’ll take anything that can help to the cause of giving her a memorable birthday.
Suddenly, I’m distracted by Blondie, who is apparently done dress shopping. She sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the villagers, looking confused and amazed as she is trying to find me in the crowd of people.
“That your girl?”
She is for the next twenty-four hours, so I nod. “I should really get back to her,” I say, not wanting her to know the plans for the evening.
He nodded knowingly. “The boat will be here for you later.” He tilts his head to the side, giving me one final look. “What’s your name anyway?”
“Eugene.”
I’m several yards away from him before I realize that I had just answered him with a name I haven’t used in over a decade. It’s for the best, I decide, before I can read into my answer too much. Saying Flynn Rider would have surely created a problem.
I walk briskly up the road, not wanting Blondie to see which direction I came from. I duck behind a fruit stall and wait for her to pass me. “So,” I start, popping out from behind her, “did you find anything you liked?”
“Oh Eugene!” She gasps, grabbing my hand. “They had all different colors and fabrics! Mother has never brought home–” She stops abruptly and frowns.
Obviously the mother is still a sore spot with her.
“Did you find one you liked?” I ask, though I really could care less. I just don’t want to see her break down and start crying in the middle of the road with everyone around us.
“Oh yes! I asked the nice lady if I could take one with me, but...” she trails off before facing me with her eyebrow raised. “Eugene, what’s money?”
“The source of all happiness,” I answer without thinking.
She processes my reply for a few seconds, but her confusion is pretty clear.
“Money lets you buy things. Everything has a price,” I clarify, gesturing to all the stalls around us. “If you don’t have money, then you don’t have anything.”
She steps so close to me that her arm brushes against mine with each step we take. “So, you steal money?” she whispers.
I balk at the idea. I may be a thief, but I’m a hard working one. I earn my money by locating lucrative buyers the hard to find items that they alone can’t find. In fact, I’m not so much a thief as I am a delivery service.
“No, I don’t steal money.”
Before she can ask me about the finer points of thieving, I guide Blondie through the people that are still crowding the streets and lead her to the youngest merchant on the block. He cocks a grin at me and tips his hat in Blondie’s direction.
“Morning, sir. Morning, ma’am,” the little tyke greets.
Blondie kneels down to be eye level with him. “Those flags are beautiful! I love the colors!” she gushes as she traces the outline of the sun with her finger.
The kid smiles bashfully back at her and blushes. No male, despite age or thugness, can resist the charms of Blondie, it seems. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Did you make them yourself?” she asks, dropping her hand to her knee.
He nods proudly. “Me and my friends did. They’re for the festival today.”
I smile, knowing exactly who his other friends are. Making little flags in celebration of the Lost Princess’ birthday had been a tradition of the orphanage since I was ten years old. It was always our most profitable fundraiser of the year.
“You and your friends did a wonderful job,” she says sincerely, standing up. She turns to walk away to the next vendor.
I, however, am not done shopping.
“I’ll take one for my friend here,” I tell him quietly.
He grins widely. “Yes, sir.” He reaches around and pulls out a flag while I rummage in a pocket for a gold coin that would easily pay for the entire batch of flags he is carrying.
I drop the coin in his hand as he gives me the flag. I reach out to tap him as he tips his hat. I don’t envy the life this kid is living and hope that he is taken home by a family that will raise him and love him the way any kid deserves. But, today as with every Lantern Festival, all kids get to enjoy themselves and have fun.
“I’ve got something for you, Blondie,” I say as I stand up and hold out the flag for Blondie who grabs it with another wide smile. She holds it up, making it seem as if it is hanging with the banners in the kingdom. My hand somehow finds its place on the small of her back and I lean over her shoulder.
I just want to see the view as she sees it. It has nothing to do with the fact her happiness does wonders to me.
Absolutely nothing.
“Is this for me?” she whispers as we walk away.
“Well, I figure since it is your birthday, you deserve some kind of present.” I cross my arms, feigning annoyance. “You didn’t mention it was your birthday to me yesterday.”
She, however, is unfazed by my false ire. “I didn’t think there was a good time to tell you. So much happened. Besides,” she adds softly, “I didn’t think you would care much if I had told you yesterday.”
She’s right, I admit. It wasn’t until our time at the campfire and her unexpected declaration --”For the record, I like Eugene Fitzherbert much better than Flynn Rider.”-- that I started allowing myself to care about the amazing woman, despite the fact that I really don’t want to deal with the ramifications of that right now.
“Well, I care now.” I admit quietly. I wonder if my statement is as awkward for her to hear it as it was for me to say it.
Apparently not. She smiles softly, looking at the flag in her hand. “I know.”
A crooked smile crosses my lips. Who would have ever thought that I would find someone who understood me when I hardly understand myself. And in a ninety foot tower, no less?
“Where are we going next?”
“You tell me, Blondie. It’s your birthday.”
**************************
Several hours later, we have seen the majority of the kingdom.
We find Max and Pascal at the large fountain where we left them earlier. If the look on her frog’s face is any indication, we just saved him from dying of boredom. He scurries down Max’s back and up Blondie’s arm without waiting for her to stop walking.
“Oh Pascal!” she sighs dreamily. “Everything here is so wonderful. They had a dress shop with the most beautiful dresses. They even had one with lace and...”
I start to tune out Blondie’s recount of everything that had happened and focus on more pressing things. Like food. Keeping up with her enthusiasm burns off nearly as many calories as running from the royal guard. I spot a vendor halfway down the block and start walking towards it.
Only to be stopped by Max.
I hold my hands up innocently. “Hey, I’m just getting us something to eat.” To emphasize my point, I start rubbing my hand over my stomach. I somehow resist the urge to pantomime the action of putting imaginary food in my mouth.
He narrows his eyes. Apparently, he still doesn’t trust me.
Horses, go figure.
Maybe some bribery is in order. “I’ll even get something for you...About a nice, shiny apple?”
Horses like apples, right? He seemed to like the one Blondie gave him this morning.
He neighs excitedly and moves out of my way. So, the way to a horse’s heart is through his stomach. I could have used that information yesterday. I would have packed a few apples before the crown heist.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Blondie who is holding up the flag for her frog to see.
I walk up to the vendor who is looking at me suspiciously. This can’t be good. I pick up a loaf of bread and several apples, doing my best to look nonchalant. I stand for a moment, waiting for him to give me a price for what I have in my hands, but he remains silent.
“Does this mean it’s free?”
He looks back to Max who is watching me very carefully. “Is that a palace horse?”
I knew that persistent horse was going to get us into trouble. Soon this guy will be asking where his rider is and that is a topic I would rather avoid, thank you very much. Feigning ignorance is definitely in order.
“He’s with her,” I say, nodding my head towards Blondie who has apparently calls Max. OK, so it’s not the most noble thing to do, but I am no Prince Charming.
“Is she in some kind of trouble? A horse with no rider is an unusual sight around here,” he says as he shifts his gaze back to me.
I inwardly laugh at the implication. Here I am, the most wanted thief in the kingdom and he’s worried about Blondie. I shake my head. “Nope, he just likes her.” A little too much, I silently add, as I watch him nuzzle into her hand again.
He crosses his arms, not pleased with my answer.
I turn back to Blondie who finally manages to tear her interest away from that horse and gives a little wave in my direction. Reluctantly, I give her one back. When I look back at Mr. Grumpy, I notice how his expression has softened.
Get used to it, buddy. No one is impervious to Blondie’s charm.
“Three duits,” he finally says, holding out his hand.
I drop the coins in his hand and make my way back to Blondie and her animal friends. We need to go somewhere a little more discrete, I decide. Surely one shopkeeper won’t be the only one who will notice Max’s presence.
“Come on,” I say as I start walking to the outskirts of town.
“Where are we going?” she inquires, running next to me.
“Well,” I shrug, “I assume you’re never had a meal with an ocean view before.”
She claps her hands together and looks at Pascal. “This is going to be so much fun!”
We cut through the back roads of the town. The festivities and people are virtually nonexistent here. Finally, we approach the end of the road and the tall sea wall. I’ve hidden here enough to know that the guards rarely patrol this remote area of the kingdom.
With a rather impressive toss, I throw the food on the top of the ledge before I hoist myself to the top and admire the view. It takes me a few seconds --and a nudge in my side from her frog-- to notice that Blondie isn’t next to me. I turn around and see her unsuccessfully trying to pull herself up.
A gentleman would have helped her up, but Flynn Rider could never be considered such a thing. Eugene, however...
I watch her bit her lip for a second before she looks at Pascal who is giving me an evil glare with one eye and watching his friend with another. “I could unbraid my hair...” she mutters.
I frown, not liking that idea at all.
You would have to rebraid it all, Flynn reminds me.
And you’d miss looking at it, Eugene quietly says.
I silence my split personalities and hold out my hand. She grabs it without hesitation and is soon sitting next to me, her leg pressed up against mine.
Maybe I should have let her stay down there, I belatedly think.
“Eugene!” she gasps and grabs my arm briefly. She lets go and points at all the ships sailing in the waters ahead of us. “Look at all of the boats!”
I hide my smile at her enthusiasm by tossing a couple of apples to Max.
“The view is great,” I agree, looking at Blondie out of the corner of my eye.
Whoa.
Stop right there, Rider.
Do not go there.
“So,” I say, a little too desperate for my liking, “what’s your frog’s background?”
“Who? Pascal?” she asks, feeding him a chunk of bread. He doesn’t seem to enjoy the taste of the dry loaf, but I’m fresh out of insects or whatever it is that frogs eat.
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s a chameleon, Eugene,” she reminds me. As if to prove her point, he starts changing into a rainbow of colors.
“OK, fine, chameleon. I get it.” He looks positively smug at my concession.
She finishes chewing on her piece of bread before continuing. “Pascal followed Mother home when she went on one of her trips to the flat lands and he’s been with me ever since.” She smiles at her friend who gives her a thumb’s up.
“And he’s your first...pet?”
She nods and pops another piece of bread into her mouth. “One time Mother found him in my room and she was upset and told me to get rid of him. She said that he was dangerous.” She lets out a disbelieving laugh. “But I knew she was wrong. Pascal wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
At the mention of the insect, Pascal starts licking his lips.
“Oh! Well, maybe a fly, but you know what I mean,” she quickly amends. “After that, we decided it was best for Pascal to remain hidden from Mother.”
Pascal makes a face at the mention of her mom. I guess he’s not a big fan of the woman who deemed it necessary to keep Blondie locked away all those years. I can’t say I’m particularly fond of her either.
“Oh, Pascal, she’s not so bad,” she quietly admonishes. “She’s just very...protective.”
Pascal rolls his eyes before starting to chirp animatedly. Now, I don’t speak Chameleon or any other Reptilian dialect, but even I know what he has to say about that.
She sighs softly. “Maybe you’re right, Pascal. She has been wrong about the outside world so far.” It seems as though she’s about to say something else, but at the last moment, she changes her mind. She draws in a deep breath and straightens her back, much like she did last night at the campfire, and I know that part of the conversation is over.
She seems content to watch the boats make their way to the port. “It’s so...amazing,” she breathes. “I never imagined anything like this.”
I scoot a little closer to her --just to see from her vantage point, mind you-- when she unexpectedly leans her head against my shoulder.
What is she doing?!
Lunch is over, I suddenly decide. Without waiting, I slide down the wall face a little too quickly. My pants snag on the uneven rocks, but thankfully don’t tear. Blondie nearly falls backwards, but she catches herself in time. She looks at me, confused. “Eugene?”
Pascal gives me a nasty look, but I really don’t care. Fleeing is my only option until Blondie learns about the important concept of personal space.
She dismounts the sea wall with much more grace than I did and brushes off the breadcrumbs from her dress. “Did I...Did I do something wrong?”
Great, now I’m starting to feel guilty. I haven’t felt that emotion in, well, actually, I’m not sure I have actually felt that emotion before. He give her a small smile. “No, I just thought we should get going. There’s still a lot to do before the lanterns come out.”
Fortunately, she’s either to kind or naive (or a combination of both) to corner me on my flimsy excuse for bolting on her. She allows Pascal to climb on her hand and gently places him on Max’s back. “We’ll be back in a while, alright?”
The chameleon nods before pining me with a glare. He points at Blondie with his tail, chirps something unintelligible, then crosses his arms.
Don’t mess with Blondie.
I got the message, Buddy.
Part 3
I know it’s not her fault that she can’t cut her hair, but this isn’t going to work. I need to come up with a plan or we might as well turn around and leave the kingdom right now. Knowing that Max would probably want nothing more than to chase me around the forest all day, I am eager to find a solution.
Fortunately, our three foot heroines are only ten feet away from us. The quartet of girls are sitting on the fountain, doing each other’s hair. Oh, do I have some hair for them. With a whistle and a hopeful look, I hold the hair up for the girls to see.
If their collective gasp is any indication, they are up to the task of trying to tame Blondie’s hair. They scramble from their position and run to Blondie.
“Think you can handle this?” I ask, nodding to the pile of hair.
The four of them ogle the mass of hair in our hands. Their eyes--and smiles--widen as they study Blondie. I’m pretty sure she has just made four new best friends.
“Of course!” The oldest one says with a toothless grin. The other three giggle and nod. “But we need to find some place we can work.”
“About behind Chef Gusto’s bakery?” another girl suggests. “There is a lot of room there!”
“That’s perfect!” another enthuses.
“Lead the way,” I reply with a grin.
The four of them grab Blondie’s hands, leaving me to pick up the pile of hair that falls to the ground. I swear I hear Max laughing from behind me, but by the time I turn to him with a scowl in place, there is no sign of mirth on his face. Pascal, however, seems quite amused at my predicament.
“Come on,” I mutter.
He ambles up Max’s leg and settles himself in the horse’s thick mane. They walk to the side of me as I do my best to keep up with Blondie and her new found hairdressers.
We follow them through the city streets while they giggle and chatter to themselves. “Your hair is so long!” one girl says, looking up at Blondie. “Doesn’t it get heavy?”
Blondie shakes her head. “No, but brushing it does take a while.”
“You should have your friend help you brush it!” the girl in the middle says, looking at my direction. “Then it won’t take so long!”
Blondie glances at me. I give her a “don’t even think about it” look. “I don’t think he likes brushing hair too much,” she finally replies.
“But brushing hair is so much fun!”
“I hope I have hair as long as her when I grow up,” the oldest girl proclaims.
“Me too!” the other three gush.
They continue weaving through the streets. We get a couple of strange looks, but no one says anything about the woman with the impossibly long hair and the man who has found himself tending to it.
I make my way to Blondie’s side. She gives me a concerned look. “Eugene,” she whispers, not wanting her new friends to be able to hear her, “don’t you think braiding all of my hair is asking too much for them?”
I laugh at her concern. “Believe me, Blondie, you have made their year.”
She looks uncertain for a few seconds, but, honestly, she’s left with little choice. I’m certainly not going to braid her hair and I’m pretty sure her frog’s hands are not up to the task. She glances at the girls, then back at me. “If you say so.”
When we get to end of the street where the girls plan on making a make-shift beauty parlor, they let go off Blondie’s hand. They circle around her, looking at her hair.
“We’ll need a brush!”
“I already have one!”
“Just kneel on the ground!”
“We’ll take care of the rest!”
Blondie complies with their request and kneels on the ground, sending me one final unsure look before turning away from me. The girls separate her hair into three equal pieces and set to the enormous task of brushing out her hair.
As they continue working through the tangles, I’m surprised that Blondie doesn’t have more knots (or branches or pebbles for that matter) in her mess of hair. Maybe she can sing that magical song of hers and her hair becomes untangled. Or maybe I’m thinking far too much about the subject of the blonde mass on top of her head.
Thirty minutes later, Blondie’s hair is completely brushed and the girls set to the take of braiding her hair. Contented giggles fill the air as the girls take turn jumping over her hair as they braid it.
Satisfied that everything is fine, I lean against the nearby wall and watch the girls perform their magic. Just as I think they are about to finish, the littlest girl looks at the others. “Do you know what else she needs?”
“Flowers!” The other three shout in unison.
“Don’t move! We’ll be right back!”
As they scamper away, Blondie turned to face me, smiling brightly. “Well, they didn’t seem to mind too much, did they?” She fingers the thick braid thoughtfully.
“I told you not to worry,” I call to her with a smug grin.
Her lips curl up into a smile as the girls come back, their hands full of flowers. They start weaving them through Blondie’s hair as if they had been waiting for her to walk through the kingdom gates all of their lives.
I watch them for a minute before I notice a pair of figures approaching us. Royal Guards.
With a slightly panicked look, I tuck myself behind the wall and hope that they aren’t expecting for one of the most notorious thieves in the kingdom to be within the main gates. Max seems as though he’s about to let me know what he thinks about me and my criminal ways, but as I look ahead, I discover I don’t really care about anything except for what’s in front of me.
I swallow thickly as she swishes her braid back and forth before giving a spin and a “thank you” to the girls. An unfamiliar warmth spreads throughout me and I find myself smiling softly in Blondie’s direction.
She really is beautiful.
I could have gone on for a few more seconds studying my unexpected traveling companion, but instead, Max decides it’s a good time to lean in and give me a hard time. He waggles his eyebrows at me, calling me on my overt admiration of the woman in front of me.
Was I that obvious?
I push him away, more annoyed at myself for being so openly smitten than at him for calling me out on my behavior. Flynn Rider does not have long term commitments, I remind myself again.
The girls run off in the direction they came, probably to tell the other kids in the kingdom about the hair that was like none other. Blondie takes a couple of steps towards the three of us.
“They did a great job, didn’t they?” She spins in front of me one more time for good measure.
“Well, at least we won’t have to worry about people tripping over your hair.” I could almost see a wave of disappointment that passed over her. Inwardly I sigh. Just because I compliment her doesn’t mean I’m going to end up married to her or anything. “And, yeah, they did. It looks good.”
The spark in her eye is back along with that unwelcome feeling of contentment that flows through me. Come on, Flynn, just one more day and that satchel will be yours.
I’m shocked to realize that doesn’t matter to me as much as it had yesterday.
A change of topic is most definitely in order, I suddenly decide. “So, you hungry?” I know I am. I barely grabbed a bite to eat with the boys before the crown heist yesterday. It’s not good to run from the law on a full stomach.
She nods emphatically, her frog copies her action. She looks around at all of the small vendors in the area. We could go inside Gusto’s bakery, but I have plans to come back later.
I lead her down the road to a small cart that is easy to pilfer from. Oh, that’s right. Blondie and Max would probably disapprove of that sort of behavior. I’m not so sure about Pascal though, he is looking rather hungry himself. I certainly have enough money to afford whatever Blondie could possibly want so I gesture in the direction of the half dozen carts. “Take your pick.”
She studies each vendor carefully. Some people have breads, others have fruits and vegetables. The large cart has several dozen sausages hanging from their display. My stomach rumbles at the sight, but with Blondie’s ability to talk to animals, I’m going to guess that she stays away from eating anything with meat in it.
Finally, her gaze settles on the fruit stand. I give the smoked meats one last lingering glance before turning back to Blondie. She already has several pieces of ripe fruit in her hand, plenty for us to eat. I reach in my small satchel and fetch out the money. Blondie watches the exchange with deep interest. I’m sure the concept of someone giving tiny, shiny circles for food seems more strange than having magical hair.
Purchases in hand, we walk to an abandoned part of the street. Blondie carefully sets the assortment of fruit on Max’s saddle. She picks off a grape for her frog and hold it out for him. His tongue flies out and captures the fruit. An apple is held out for Max to take, who gobbles it down so quickly, I’m afraid he’s taken half of Blondie’s hand with it. Fortunately, when she steps back, I see that she has all of her fingers.
She considers the remaining fruit, a plum and a pile of strawberries. “Which one do you want, Eugene?”
Neither of them seem particularly appealing, so I graciously say, “It’s your day, Blondie. You pick.”
She considers her decision carefully. Nearly a minute passes and my stomach is starting to wonder why I thought it was a good decision to let her choose what to eat. Just as I’m about to renege on my offer, she picks up the plum.
Without wasting for her to take a bite, I grab a couple of strawberries and pop them in my mouth. I’m contently chewing on them so I don’t pay attention to when Blondie decides to take a huge bite out of her plum.
Big mistake.
I don’t know what the farmer that grew that plum put in the soil, but the plum has to be the juiciest piece of fruit on the planet. The big drop of plum nectar lands in my eye. “Gah!” I cry, bringing my hand up to my eye.
Max starts laughing. Pascal is quick to join in. I give them a glare with my good eye. Only Blondie seems concerned with my well-being.
“I am so sorry, Eugene!” She carefully pulls my hand away from my eye. It’s watering so all I see is a blurry blonde blob. “Are you alright?”
A tear slides down my face.
She gasps then frowns. “You’re crying!” Her hands hover around my head as if she’s unsure what she should do.
“No. My eye is watering.” There is a manly difference.
She looks around for something to help me out. I hold out a hand to stop her as I bring my other hand back up to my eye. “I’m fine, Blondie. Really.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Just...eat your plum by Max.” I blink several times, relieved to feel that the stinging sensation is starting to fade away.
Blondie moves away from me, still looking at me carefully. “I am so sorry, Eugene.”
I wave off her apology. At least this was a mistake, hitting me in the head with a frying pan--twice--wasn’t.
And she still hasn’t apologized for that.
She finishes eating her plum carefully, covering any stray drop that might try to go flying from her mouth. Now that I am convinced that there is no lasting damage in my eye, I grab the remaining strawberries and gobble them down, making sure that I’m facing away from Blondie and her plum.
“So,” I say as I finish the last of my breakfast, “where do you want to go first?”
Her eyes sparkle at the idea that she could actually decide where to go. I realize that this was probably the first time she had ever been given that option in her life.
“Can we see it all?”
The hope is so evident in her eyes that even if it was impossible to do, I would have figured out some way to show her everything the kingdom had to offer. I frown slightly, uneasy at her uncanny ability to make me do things--like reveal my real name and back story--that I would never think I’d ever do.
I really need to stop looking in those big, green eyes of hers. They are going to get me into more trouble than my thieving habit.
But, I can’t help myself and look at them again. Instantly, I think about when we were sitting in front of that campfire last night and looking at them, all innocent and hopeful. My self-control had nearly broken right then and there. I had wanted to kiss her.
No, I correct myself, I had really wanted to kiss her.
And that’s why I had to walk away.
I close my eyes and try to think of the satchel and the extremely valuable contents in it. I force myself to think of that castle I wanted so badly yesterday. To think about the future that I have always dreamed about since I was ten years old and read The Tales of Flynnigan Rider for the first time.
Instead, my treasonous thoughts show me Blondie, smiling that grin of hers with her eyebrow raised in amusement. I shove those thoughts out of my mind. Very forcibly.
Remember the satchel, Flynn.
The satchel.
The satchel.
“Eugene?”
Oops. My mental argument must have taken too long. Blondie --and that frog of hers-- is looking at me strangely. “The whole kingdom? You’ve got it,” I hear myself say, wondering why I thought it was such a good idea to spend the entire day with her.
As she flashes a wide smile at me, I realize it’s because I am a complete and utter masochist.
**********************
Now that our stomachs are full, it’s time to start that tour that Blondie requested. But before we head to the main street, I need to make sure Blondie understands what is going on. “When we see a guard...” I prompt.
She crosses her arms and looks at me pointedly. I’m pretty sure she’s wishing she had her frying pan with her right now. “We’ve been over this five times already, Eugene! I know what to do, I just want to see everything in the kingdom.”
OK, so I might have rehearsed the ‘how to escape from the royal guard’ routine one too many times. But really, can she –or anyone else for that matter– blame me for my somewhat apprehensive behavior? This is the first time that I’ve ever allowed myself in a position where I am completely and utterly vulnerable to capture.
And I’m not just talking about the guards either, if you know what I mean.
She, however, seems completely unaware of how close I am to shrugging off the Flynn Rider persona --just for the day, mind you -- and letting myself, the rarely-acknowledged Eugene, enjoy the day in the company of a beautiful woman.
“All right, let’s go,” I say, wondering how long I’m going to be able to remain strong in the face of the perkiness that is Blondie.
Not long apparently.
As she grabs my wrist to pull me down the street, I admit defeat.
Flynn Rider is officially taking the day off.
I look at Max and before glancing back to the main part of the village. There is no way that a palace horse is going to go unnoticed while we walk through the kingdom. In fact, I think distastefully, I wouldn’t put it past him to start making a scene to catch the guards’ attention, promise or no.
He, however, seems content to wait at the main fountain in the town’s center. When I stare at him, dumb-founded, for a second too long, he huffs and looks meaningfully at Blondie, then me, then the town square.
“Max wants to stay here and get a drink, don’t you, boy?” Blondie says, as if I hadn’t picked up on the horse’s not subtle gestures.
Max nods as if to say finally, a human who understands me!
Hey, I’m not going to argue with his idea. “What about your frog?” I ask, looking around for her green companion.
I find him fast sleep on Max’s mane. In fact, I’m pretty sure I hear him snoring.
“He had a long day yesterday,” Blondie whispers. She lifts up a thick strand of Max’s mane and covers it over Pascal. “Please take care of him,” she charges Max.
He nods carefully, making sure not to send her frog flying in the air.
With a cocky salute, I turn away from Max and we start our tour of the kingdom. The streets are filled with people who are busily moving back and forth between the vendors. I watch as Blondie tries to take everything in around her. She gasps and points and grins at all of the new sights.
I’m having trouble keeping up with her, but I don’t think she notices. She grabs my hand –again!– and pulls me down the cobblestone road. We stop momentarily at yet another fruit stand. Blondie picks up two lemons, inspects them for a fraction of a second and hands them to me. I barely have time to catch them before she is pulling me in another direction.
I only hope the shop keeper was able to catch them as she whisked me away.
“Everything here is so wonderful here!” she coos. Yes, she actually coos. We stop in the middle of the intersection. She spins around, taking notice of the stores that are on the four corners.
“Is that…a shop that sells dresses?” she asks in amazement.
I look to where she is pointing. There is a large window with several of the aforementioned garments in it.
What is it with women –even one that has been trapped in a tower her whole life– and clothes?
I shrug. “It looks like it.”
“Can we go inside?”
She did not just use the word “we”, did she?
Her expectant look answers my unspoken question. I take several steps away from the dress shop. “Whoa there, Blondie. I don’t go dress shopping. You, however, are free to go in there.”
“Eugene, I don’t even know what to do! You have to come with me!” she pleads.
I shake my head stubbornly. “Not gonna do it.”
She crosses her arms. “You said you were going to be my guide.”
I gesture to the large wooden door with an impatient wave of my hand. “I’m guiding you to the entrance.”
“That doesn’t count.” She reaches over and grabs my forearm, but my feet are firmly planted to the ground. She might have gotten me to agree to take her to see the lanterns, spill my previously unknown back story, and establish a truce with Max, but even I have my breaking point.
“Look in there Blondie,” I say, shifting my gaze to the window. “Notice something? Like the lack of any other men in there?”
She turns her head and does as I request. As three women come into view, she reluctantly nods.
“Go. Have a good time,” I encourage. “I’ll just have a look around the stalls that don’t pertain to women’s clothing.”
She looks at me suspiciously for a second. As if I’ll leave her after everything we’ve been through. Or without my satchel, I add quickly. But, apparently, she can’t resist the siren call of the dresses because she grins. “You’ll be back?”
“I promise.” There’s no reason to tell her that, outside of her, my promises are good for nothing.
To my utter shock, she lunged herself at me and hugs me. She gives me a quick squeeze and leans close to my ear. “Thank you so much for taking me here, Eugene.” She smiles as I resist the urge to lean into her.
I don’t even have time to respond before she bounces away. I watch her step into the dress shop, a wide smile already in place, with an undoubtedly ridiculous grin on my face. From the window, she gives me a little wave.
Without thinking, I give her one back.
Suddenly, my thoughts do catch up with me. I’m acting like I’m smitten! Like a lovesick teenager! As I watch her pick an aqua dress from inside, I wonder if that is really such a bad thing.
I push away the thoughts as I turn my attention to the task at hand. I still have to fulfill my commitment to Blondie about the lanterns, don’t I?
Quickly, I make my way to the docks and find an unsuspecting fool that will help me with my plan I came up with last night.
There.
I see a middle-aged man standing at the end of the dock, trying to tie his boat with a thick rope to the piling. The boat is a good size, plenty of room for Blondie, her frog and me and not enough for Max. Perfect.
“Hey,” I say in my most Charming voice. “You gonna be using that later tonight?”
His eyes narrow slightly and I wonder if he’s seen the poorly drawn picture of me on a wanted poster. Finally, he shakes his head and I realize that I’m in no trouble of being discovered.
“No,” he finally answers, giving the rope a good, solid tug. “The Misses and I are going to be celebrating the Lantern Ceremony at our home.” He straightens and looks me in the eye. “Why? You’re wanting to take the misses out on the water tonight?”
I cough and sputter at his question which he finds uproariously amusing for some reason.
Rapunzel and me married?
Nope.
Not going to happen.
Ever.
I just want to make sure she has a good enough view of the lanterns to insure the return of my satchel. That’s all.
I’m wondering if there is any part of me that is actually convinced by my internal assertion.
Now is not the time for me to be thinking about dangerous things like my desire to spend time beyond today with Blondie. I recover quickly and give him what hopefully looks like a sheepish smile. “Well, she’s not my misses yet.”
He comes over and clasps my shoulder briefly. “Ah, young love.” He laughs heartily. “Sure, you can use the boat tonight. Just bring it her back here when you’re done. Alright, son?”
I flinch at the offhanded nickname, but force a smile from my lips. “Sure thing.”
“In fact, I’ll even put a couple of lanterns in the boat for later. I wouldn’t want you two to miss out on that.” He winks at me and I wonder if somehow I found a human incarnation of cupid.
“Um, sure. That sounds great.”
He watches me for a second. “Is this your first lantern ceremony with the lucky lady?”
I nod. “Yup. I’m trying to give her a night that she will never forget, you know?” After eighteen years, I imagine her expectations are pretty high. I’ll take anything that can help to the cause of giving her a memorable birthday.
Suddenly, I’m distracted by Blondie, who is apparently done dress shopping. She sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the villagers, looking confused and amazed as she is trying to find me in the crowd of people.
“That your girl?”
She is for the next twenty-four hours, so I nod. “I should really get back to her,” I say, not wanting her to know the plans for the evening.
He nodded knowingly. “The boat will be here for you later.” He tilts his head to the side, giving me one final look. “What’s your name anyway?”
“Eugene.”
I’m several yards away from him before I realize that I had just answered him with a name I haven’t used in over a decade. It’s for the best, I decide, before I can read into my answer too much. Saying Flynn Rider would have surely created a problem.
I walk briskly up the road, not wanting Blondie to see which direction I came from. I duck behind a fruit stall and wait for her to pass me. “So,” I start, popping out from behind her, “did you find anything you liked?”
“Oh Eugene!” She gasps, grabbing my hand. “They had all different colors and fabrics! Mother has never brought home–” She stops abruptly and frowns.
Obviously the mother is still a sore spot with her.
“Did you find one you liked?” I ask, though I really could care less. I just don’t want to see her break down and start crying in the middle of the road with everyone around us.
“Oh yes! I asked the nice lady if I could take one with me, but...” she trails off before facing me with her eyebrow raised. “Eugene, what’s money?”
“The source of all happiness,” I answer without thinking.
She processes my reply for a few seconds, but her confusion is pretty clear.
“Money lets you buy things. Everything has a price,” I clarify, gesturing to all the stalls around us. “If you don’t have money, then you don’t have anything.”
She steps so close to me that her arm brushes against mine with each step we take. “So, you steal money?” she whispers.
I balk at the idea. I may be a thief, but I’m a hard working one. I earn my money by locating lucrative buyers the hard to find items that they alone can’t find. In fact, I’m not so much a thief as I am a delivery service.
“No, I don’t steal money.”
Before she can ask me about the finer points of thieving, I guide Blondie through the people that are still crowding the streets and lead her to the youngest merchant on the block. He cocks a grin at me and tips his hat in Blondie’s direction.
“Morning, sir. Morning, ma’am,” the little tyke greets.
Blondie kneels down to be eye level with him. “Those flags are beautiful! I love the colors!” she gushes as she traces the outline of the sun with her finger.
The kid smiles bashfully back at her and blushes. No male, despite age or thugness, can resist the charms of Blondie, it seems. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Did you make them yourself?” she asks, dropping her hand to her knee.
He nods proudly. “Me and my friends did. They’re for the festival today.”
I smile, knowing exactly who his other friends are. Making little flags in celebration of the Lost Princess’ birthday had been a tradition of the orphanage since I was ten years old. It was always our most profitable fundraiser of the year.
“You and your friends did a wonderful job,” she says sincerely, standing up. She turns to walk away to the next vendor.
I, however, am not done shopping.
“I’ll take one for my friend here,” I tell him quietly.
He grins widely. “Yes, sir.” He reaches around and pulls out a flag while I rummage in a pocket for a gold coin that would easily pay for the entire batch of flags he is carrying.
I drop the coin in his hand as he gives me the flag. I reach out to tap him as he tips his hat. I don’t envy the life this kid is living and hope that he is taken home by a family that will raise him and love him the way any kid deserves. But, today as with every Lantern Festival, all kids get to enjoy themselves and have fun.
“I’ve got something for you, Blondie,” I say as I stand up and hold out the flag for Blondie who grabs it with another wide smile. She holds it up, making it seem as if it is hanging with the banners in the kingdom. My hand somehow finds its place on the small of her back and I lean over her shoulder.
I just want to see the view as she sees it. It has nothing to do with the fact her happiness does wonders to me.
Absolutely nothing.
“Is this for me?” she whispers as we walk away.
“Well, I figure since it is your birthday, you deserve some kind of present.” I cross my arms, feigning annoyance. “You didn’t mention it was your birthday to me yesterday.”
She, however, is unfazed by my false ire. “I didn’t think there was a good time to tell you. So much happened. Besides,” she adds softly, “I didn’t think you would care much if I had told you yesterday.”
She’s right, I admit. It wasn’t until our time at the campfire and her unexpected declaration --”For the record, I like Eugene Fitzherbert much better than Flynn Rider.”-- that I started allowing myself to care about the amazing woman, despite the fact that I really don’t want to deal with the ramifications of that right now.
“Well, I care now.” I admit quietly. I wonder if my statement is as awkward for her to hear it as it was for me to say it.
Apparently not. She smiles softly, looking at the flag in her hand. “I know.”
A crooked smile crosses my lips. Who would have ever thought that I would find someone who understood me when I hardly understand myself. And in a ninety foot tower, no less?
“Where are we going next?”
“You tell me, Blondie. It’s your birthday.”
**************************
Several hours later, we have seen the majority of the kingdom.
We find Max and Pascal at the large fountain where we left them earlier. If the look on her frog’s face is any indication, we just saved him from dying of boredom. He scurries down Max’s back and up Blondie’s arm without waiting for her to stop walking.
“Oh Pascal!” she sighs dreamily. “Everything here is so wonderful. They had a dress shop with the most beautiful dresses. They even had one with lace and...”
I start to tune out Blondie’s recount of everything that had happened and focus on more pressing things. Like food. Keeping up with her enthusiasm burns off nearly as many calories as running from the royal guard. I spot a vendor halfway down the block and start walking towards it.
Only to be stopped by Max.
I hold my hands up innocently. “Hey, I’m just getting us something to eat.” To emphasize my point, I start rubbing my hand over my stomach. I somehow resist the urge to pantomime the action of putting imaginary food in my mouth.
He narrows his eyes. Apparently, he still doesn’t trust me.
Horses, go figure.
Maybe some bribery is in order. “I’ll even get something for you...About a nice, shiny apple?”
Horses like apples, right? He seemed to like the one Blondie gave him this morning.
He neighs excitedly and moves out of my way. So, the way to a horse’s heart is through his stomach. I could have used that information yesterday. I would have packed a few apples before the crown heist.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Blondie who is holding up the flag for her frog to see.
I walk up to the vendor who is looking at me suspiciously. This can’t be good. I pick up a loaf of bread and several apples, doing my best to look nonchalant. I stand for a moment, waiting for him to give me a price for what I have in my hands, but he remains silent.
“Does this mean it’s free?”
He looks back to Max who is watching me very carefully. “Is that a palace horse?”
I knew that persistent horse was going to get us into trouble. Soon this guy will be asking where his rider is and that is a topic I would rather avoid, thank you very much. Feigning ignorance is definitely in order.
“He’s with her,” I say, nodding my head towards Blondie who has apparently calls Max. OK, so it’s not the most noble thing to do, but I am no Prince Charming.
“Is she in some kind of trouble? A horse with no rider is an unusual sight around here,” he says as he shifts his gaze back to me.
I inwardly laugh at the implication. Here I am, the most wanted thief in the kingdom and he’s worried about Blondie. I shake my head. “Nope, he just likes her.” A little too much, I silently add, as I watch him nuzzle into her hand again.
He crosses his arms, not pleased with my answer.
I turn back to Blondie who finally manages to tear her interest away from that horse and gives a little wave in my direction. Reluctantly, I give her one back. When I look back at Mr. Grumpy, I notice how his expression has softened.
Get used to it, buddy. No one is impervious to Blondie’s charm.
“Three duits,” he finally says, holding out his hand.
I drop the coins in his hand and make my way back to Blondie and her animal friends. We need to go somewhere a little more discrete, I decide. Surely one shopkeeper won’t be the only one who will notice Max’s presence.
“Come on,” I say as I start walking to the outskirts of town.
“Where are we going?” she inquires, running next to me.
“Well,” I shrug, “I assume you’re never had a meal with an ocean view before.”
She claps her hands together and looks at Pascal. “This is going to be so much fun!”
We cut through the back roads of the town. The festivities and people are virtually nonexistent here. Finally, we approach the end of the road and the tall sea wall. I’ve hidden here enough to know that the guards rarely patrol this remote area of the kingdom.
With a rather impressive toss, I throw the food on the top of the ledge before I hoist myself to the top and admire the view. It takes me a few seconds --and a nudge in my side from her frog-- to notice that Blondie isn’t next to me. I turn around and see her unsuccessfully trying to pull herself up.
A gentleman would have helped her up, but Flynn Rider could never be considered such a thing. Eugene, however...
I watch her bit her lip for a second before she looks at Pascal who is giving me an evil glare with one eye and watching his friend with another. “I could unbraid my hair...” she mutters.
I frown, not liking that idea at all.
You would have to rebraid it all, Flynn reminds me.
And you’d miss looking at it, Eugene quietly says.
I silence my split personalities and hold out my hand. She grabs it without hesitation and is soon sitting next to me, her leg pressed up against mine.
Maybe I should have let her stay down there, I belatedly think.
“Eugene!” she gasps and grabs my arm briefly. She lets go and points at all the ships sailing in the waters ahead of us. “Look at all of the boats!”
I hide my smile at her enthusiasm by tossing a couple of apples to Max.
“The view is great,” I agree, looking at Blondie out of the corner of my eye.
Whoa.
Stop right there, Rider.
Do not go there.
“So,” I say, a little too desperate for my liking, “what’s your frog’s background?”
“Who? Pascal?” she asks, feeding him a chunk of bread. He doesn’t seem to enjoy the taste of the dry loaf, but I’m fresh out of insects or whatever it is that frogs eat.
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s a chameleon, Eugene,” she reminds me. As if to prove her point, he starts changing into a rainbow of colors.
“OK, fine, chameleon. I get it.” He looks positively smug at my concession.
She finishes chewing on her piece of bread before continuing. “Pascal followed Mother home when she went on one of her trips to the flat lands and he’s been with me ever since.” She smiles at her friend who gives her a thumb’s up.
“And he’s your first...pet?”
She nods and pops another piece of bread into her mouth. “One time Mother found him in my room and she was upset and told me to get rid of him. She said that he was dangerous.” She lets out a disbelieving laugh. “But I knew she was wrong. Pascal wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
At the mention of the insect, Pascal starts licking his lips.
“Oh! Well, maybe a fly, but you know what I mean,” she quickly amends. “After that, we decided it was best for Pascal to remain hidden from Mother.”
Pascal makes a face at the mention of her mom. I guess he’s not a big fan of the woman who deemed it necessary to keep Blondie locked away all those years. I can’t say I’m particularly fond of her either.
“Oh, Pascal, she’s not so bad,” she quietly admonishes. “She’s just very...protective.”
Pascal rolls his eyes before starting to chirp animatedly. Now, I don’t speak Chameleon or any other Reptilian dialect, but even I know what he has to say about that.
She sighs softly. “Maybe you’re right, Pascal. She has been wrong about the outside world so far.” It seems as though she’s about to say something else, but at the last moment, she changes her mind. She draws in a deep breath and straightens her back, much like she did last night at the campfire, and I know that part of the conversation is over.
She seems content to watch the boats make their way to the port. “It’s so...amazing,” she breathes. “I never imagined anything like this.”
I scoot a little closer to her --just to see from her vantage point, mind you-- when she unexpectedly leans her head against my shoulder.
What is she doing?!
Lunch is over, I suddenly decide. Without waiting, I slide down the wall face a little too quickly. My pants snag on the uneven rocks, but thankfully don’t tear. Blondie nearly falls backwards, but she catches herself in time. She looks at me, confused. “Eugene?”
Pascal gives me a nasty look, but I really don’t care. Fleeing is my only option until Blondie learns about the important concept of personal space.
She dismounts the sea wall with much more grace than I did and brushes off the breadcrumbs from her dress. “Did I...Did I do something wrong?”
Great, now I’m starting to feel guilty. I haven’t felt that emotion in, well, actually, I’m not sure I have actually felt that emotion before. He give her a small smile. “No, I just thought we should get going. There’s still a lot to do before the lanterns come out.”
Fortunately, she’s either to kind or naive (or a combination of both) to corner me on my flimsy excuse for bolting on her. She allows Pascal to climb on her hand and gently places him on Max’s back. “We’ll be back in a while, alright?”
The chameleon nods before pining me with a glare. He points at Blondie with his tail, chirps something unintelligible, then crosses his arms.
Don’t mess with Blondie.
I got the message, Buddy.
Part 3