Oh, well. Whatâs a royal ball? After all, I suppose it would be frightfully dull, and boring, and completely⌠Completely wonderful.
Cinderella (1950) dir. Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske
Summary: A drabble surrounding Flynn and Stalyan's relationship and how he dropped the question.
A/N: I really think Stalyanâs and Flynnâs relationship is interesting, and I wanted to test the waters by exploring their interactions as this is my first Tangled fic. Brief abuse mentions.
Flynn often thought he loved her. Sometimes he did not. It didn't really matter though because what could a guy like him really hope for? Not only was Stalyan beautiful, but she was a thief. Like him. And in their own little world, they were perfect for each other.
"Are you thinking this through? 'Cause I don't think you're thinking this through."
Flynn dodged as the guard swung at his head.
"You obviously are a very strong man, but you gotta ask yourself, is this really what the king would want?"
Another dodge.
"And do you really want to waste your energy on someone as nimble and witty as moi?"
As it became increasingly apparent his banter wasn't getting him anywhere, Flynn looked for the next best option. He kicked up the stick that had been lying near his foot and in a swift motion, he threw it at Stalyan who grabbed it in midair and whacked the guard over the head.
"Hey, angry! Over here," Stalyan yelled with her palms cuffed around her mouth.
The guard rushed toward her as she managed to leap off the wall and into the bushes, pulling Flynn with her.
They descended into the berry bushes surrounding the walls of Corona, laughing.
"Oh man, we are good!" He brushed the brambles off his legs and leaped out of the shrubbery.
"The stupid look on his face was priceless!"
Flynn grinned and helped Stalyan to her feet.
They were around Corona which was starkly different than his usual setting, but she told him to run away with her, so he did.
Flynn didn't have anybody who would miss him if he left Vardaros anyway. Well.. maybe Lance would, but he lost contact with him ages ago.
He stood up and held out a hand for Stalyan, who took it, smiling slyly.
"Well Rider, that was pretty quick thinking on your part."
"Beauty and Brains, am I right," Flynn said while flashing what he hoped would be a winning smile.
At first Flynn thought running away with Stalyan would just be them going on dates and occasionally making stiff old royals mad, but he quickly realized she was an excellent partner at all things. Read: stealing.
This particular day they had decided to snag jewelry that had just happened to be laying around in a tent set up with merchandise for the lost princess's birthday. Flynn honestly had never really cared much for the event, but the type of opportunities it opened up? Yeah, that was something to look forward to.
Stalyan looked up at the starry night sky around them. The stars twinkled in her eyes as she glanced at him and gave him a look.
"You know, Flynn, I've always wanted to go on a date under stars."
She held up the stolen items and watched them gleam in the night.
"I bet we could sell these for a pretty penny."
See, most people would feel guilty for selling something that wasn't theirs. And Flynn kinda felt guilty too. Key word "kinda." But Stalyan had convinced him his guilt was unwarranted, so he allowed himself to follow her.
Something he had learned very early on in their relationship was that when Stallion said something it usually wasn't best to argue. They were both headstrong and very opinionated which he supposed probably wasn't the best match.
Flynn put his arm around her shoulders and took the commemorative necklaces. They were emblazoned with a picture of the lost princess as a baby surrounded by lanterns.
"I bet we could but to who? Everyone here already has something to celebrate the day."
His eyes trailed over to the groups of families huddled anxiously around a fire. Most were unable to go inside the walls for whatever reason but some chose to stay outside to avoid the crowd.
"You know what, I think I may have the perfect idea."
***
They were laying down on a blanket near the edge of town, watching the night sky. In the lake in front of them, couples rowed by in boats, ready to watch the lanterns pass. He breathed in the beauty of the midnight color the sky had taken on and the chilly air that filled his lungs. He was about to open his mouth to comment on the scenery, but one look at Stalyan, and he promptly closed it.
Her gaze was trained on the couples in the river, and she looked... jealous? He knew Stalyan to be petty at times or to get angry when he would mess up or say something wrong. Heck, his back still stung from the last time he dropped her powder blush. But Stalyan being jealous? Now that was new. She usually had everything she wanted at her fingertips with her being the Barronâs daughter and all.
Stalyan looked directly at him and gave him a tight lipped smile.
"Flynn, when are you going to ask me to marry you?"
In that instant his mouth ran dry, and he was afraid if he opened his mouth no words would come out.
It's not that he didn't love her. He'd even be lying if he said the thought of proposing hadn't crossed his mind from time to time.
But he was so young. And even though he knew it was stupid, knew she would laugh at him if she knew, he wanted something like what was in the books he read.
In those days at the orphanage with Lance, where they would choose random books of the shelf to read, he would lose himself in all sorts of novels. One of his favorites (besides The Tales of Flynnagian Rider of course) were the fairy tales. Ones where the prince and the princess found each other and instantly fell in love. Where they went on quests and adventures together.
Where the prince wasn't scared of the princess.
He wanted something like that. And Stalyan, as beautiful as she was, was not that.
But maybe he was being delusional. He had her. And his mind chided him to remember that without her he had nothing. And if he lost her, he truly would have no one.
Flynn swallowed down the fear in his throat and grabbed her hands.
She began to grin, and he noticed how her eyes took on that familiar look they did when she was happy. Stalyan stood up while he kneeled in front of her and pulled out a ring he stole earlier (and was hoping to sell) from his pocket.
"You read my mind. Stalyan, will you marry me?"
She laughed. "Finally Rider. Of course I'll marry you."
His racing thoughts were interrupted when he felt her mouth on his.
When they broke for air, she looked at him with so much feeling and importance that he blushed. Maybe they would be alright after all. Fairy tales were just make believe anyway.
Summary: The night before he marries Rapunzel, Eugene sits on the palace roof and finds himself with unexpected company. Eugene-centric.Â
Warnings: brief mention/gesture to Rapunzelâs abuse, some discussion of Eugeneâs upbringing as an orphan, self-doubt and tangential themes, Eugene is not as confident as he seems in himself but he gets some reassurance, dialogue-heavy, introspective for Eugene and his relationship to Rapunzel, overall v soft, Eugene almost cries but doesnât.Â
A/N: Basically, I decided there were elements of Eugene and his relationship to this character that the canon content doesnât really address much, and I really wanted to explore potential for their dynamic.Â
âŚ
Eugene liked the palace roof, especially at night.
He couldnât explain why, exactly. He supposes the habit had started when he and Rapunzel had first arrived at the palace. Eugene hadnât slept particularly well those first several weeks; nightmares that didnât involve a knife in his gut usually were filled with Rapunzelâs muffled scream. Add that to the fact that Eugeneâs body hadnât yet caught on to the whole âitâs okay to sleep near royal guardsâ idea, and Eugene didnât get much sleep at first. The roof had been one of the few places in the palace that heâd known how to get to already, thanks to his escapade with the Stabbington Brothers. Itâd also had the added appeal of the promise of fresh air and quiet.
Even when the nightmares eventually eased and his fight-or-flight stopped kicking in every time so much as saw a guard, Eugene found himself drawn to the roof. He liked the near birdâs-eye view of the kingdom, and even in the dark of night, the stars just seemed brighter to him up here. The late summer air breezes through loose strands of his brown hair and Eugene takes a deep breath as tension eases from his shoulders.
âWedding jitters?â
Eugene jumps at the unexpected voice, glancing over his shoulder. Itâs well past midnight. He hadnât expected anyone to be up here. And even if he had, the last person he expected to interrupt his evening was the queen.
jbbartram-illu
discoholicmusic
dailybridgerton
annaxmalina
titsay
kaledo-art
vaporwave
yousharknotpass
