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Names were important things.
Rapunzel knew that she had a name. Mother had a name; thought she refused to tell Rapunzel what it was (you'll never need to know, my flower, I'm your Mother after all) and she had given Pascal his name- she'd gotten it from one of her books.
She'd never heard of the name Eugene.
She wasn't even sure if it was a name- it could have been a plant, or an animal. But in all the tales in her storybook, the prince and princess would have each other's names written on them- on their neck, on their wrist.
Eugene had to be someone's name.
She'd found it when she was eleven, etched onto her collarbone, in looping, pretty letters, nothing like her messy scrawl. She used paint to cover it up at first, then simply started asking Mother for dresses with higher necklines.
She didn't know why she wanted to hide it. It felt thrilling to have a secret- something Mother didn't know about, something that was just hers.
Eugene was just hers.
She wrote it down in her own scrawl, high up in her room- someplace Mother wouldn't see. When the tower seemed small and lonely, when her voice echoing through the room wasn't enough, she'd stay in the rafters and trace the letters over and over again.
Whoever this person was, maybe she'd see the lights with them.
As the years passed, as eleven turned to twelve and fifteen and seventeen, she found herself wondering what Eugene was doing. Did they have their own tower? Their own dreams? She wanted to know them, know about them, hear their voice.
When Flynn Rider broke into her tower and introduced himself, she thought his was a funny name.
She entertained the thought of asking him if he knew a Eugene. She decided against it. She was already risking so much trusting this thief with her plan to see the lights- Mother would be distraught if she learned he knew something she didn't.
Then they'd been found by the guards, and running through a gorge, and trapped in a tiny, dark cave, awaiting a watery death.
And the name Eugene passed his lips. She'd never heard it aloud before, and her heart gave a strange flutter.
"My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. Someone might as well know."
This was him. This was her Eugene! This was the name on her skin, the person she'd always known in some way- this was her secret, here, and talking to her!
Before she knew it, her other secret slipped out.
"I have magic hair that glows when I sing."
And they'd escaped, and she'd healed him, and he'd told her of "sad orphan Eugene Fitzherbert". And she'd asked him about the names.
He'd looked surprised. "You mean your soulmark? Blondie- everyone has a soulmark." He'd chuckled. She'd giggled sheepishly.
"I... don't know what that is. Mother never told me about soulmarks."
Bewilderment flitted across his face, before understanding dawned.
"Okay, so, there's this legend. Every person has a soulmate- someone they're made for, someone who will make them happy beyond belief....."
He'd explained, and pulled down his own collar to shown her his.
Rapunzel. In her messy scrawl.
She'd bitten her lip, and he'd mistaken her excitement for apprehension.
"Don't worry! Rapunzel is a pretty common name- a ton of people named their kids after the lost princess. Your mother included, I guess. It's kind of why I don't put a lot of belief in it, the whole thing. I mean- one person? Forever? Rider doesn't do that." He'd smirked, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Mother had confronted her after he'd left, had scorned her attempt at negotiation- had laughed when she mentioned soulmates.
"Rapunzel, please! You're being ridiculous! And why on earth would that man even want you?"
She'd screamed, and Rapunzel had fought back, and she'd disappeared into the night. Rapunzel clutched the satchel to her chest, the writing on her skin almost alive, little pinpricks dancing across it.
Eugene had asked her about her own mark, and she'd waved him away.
"Another really common name, heh. And- not like I can have a soulmate." She'd fiddled with her hair, and he'd nodded with understanding.
"You're another John girl, huh? Man, I feel for you- bit hard to find your one true love when every other person has their name." He'd joked. His smile faltered. "I've met a hundred different Rapunzel's, blondie. Not one had Flynn as their mark."
She'd shot him a smirk of her own. "Maybe you should've looked for a Eugene?"
They'd reached Corona as the sun reached its peak, and Rapunzel had never felt lighter. It was like she was made of sunlight- like she was made to wander around this world, to see and do as much as possible.
The lights were everything she had ever dreamed. Better. Eugene was right there next to her, like she'd imagined.
She'd given him the satchel, and he'd set it aside. She felt a flurry of warmth- like the glow of the lanterns was gathered up in her heart. He didn't care about the crown. From the way his gaze was fixed onto her eyes, it seemed like he cared more about her.
She had stopped their kiss. It didn't feel right to do that without telling him- a true loves kiss happened after the prince and princess found each other's marks.
But he'd stopped her confession before she could say a word.
He'd dragged the boat ashore. He'd promised he'd be back.
She'd watched his boat float away without her on it, the satchel in his hands. Her mark burned.
Mother had saved her. Had held her in her arms and for a moment, a heart-aching moment, her mark had screamed in protest. Tears had pricked the corners of her eyes. She was going home. To her tower.
Without her Eugene.
She had slumped onto her bed, gazed at the murals she'd put hours into. Fading rays of sunlight had glinted across the name she'd etched into the rafters.
She'd found the flowers.
She'd told her Mother- her captor off, she'd told her about her soulmate, she'd learned of his fate, she'd come up with a plan to save him-
And she'd been stopped. Chained.
Eugene had come to save her.
And he had gotten hurt. And it was all her fault.
Her mark had screamed again, the pain like a brand against her skin as his life ebbed. She'd made a deal, a last ditch-effort.
He'd cut her hair, and her mark had shriveled and withered. Mother had fallen out of the tower.
Rapunzel was alone.
She'd been alone before, for most of her life, but this loneliness hurt more somehow. This was real solitude,with no mark, no person of her own. She'd never been alone with a corpse.
She'd cried over him, her Eugene.
She'd heard his voice again, for what she thought was the last time.
And he'd opened his eyes, her mark had sung, and she'd kissed him as colour returned to the world.
Hours later, after crying and talking and crying more, she'd snivelled out the truth and showed him her mark.
His face had made her choke out a laugh.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He'd whispered in disbelief. She'd shrugged.
"I didn't think you'd want me."
He'd laughed at that, a real, actual laugh, and had pulled her close, and they hadn't talked much after that for a couple hours.
Years later, she traced her messy scrawl, only this time, it was her own name, etched onto her husband's skin, and not the tower wall.