Summary: Little does Eugene know that his midnight serenade to a baby princess has a secret audience. Pointless/plotless fluff


Prince Consort Eugene Fitzherbert of Corona awoke at the noise with a start, blearily rubbing his already beet-red eyes.

Who knew such a small pair of lungs could wail so loud?

He flicked a glance at Rapunzel, who was still sleeping soundly. Damn.

He knew they had an arrangement taking turns being with the baby when she cried so they could both get some sleep. What he hadn't counted on was that 1) Rapunzel was not a light sleeper but Eugene himself was, and 2) he hated to wake her up even when it was her turn to check on their little princess.

(Eugene, being ignorant to the wiles of women who were wives was of course unaware of the fact that Rapunzel was very aware of this fact when they made their arrangement).

Which of course meant he would have to be the one to interrupt his sleep and get up.

Eugene didn't stir. It was quiet now. Maybe if he waited a few seconds, the baby would go back to sleep.


Or maybe not.

Sighing resignedly, Eugene got out of the enormous bed and made his way to the crib at the far end of his suite where their daughter, the future queen of Corona, slept.

Or rather, cried. Constantly.

Eugene reached down and picked her up, gently supporting her head as he took a seat in the armchair next to the crib.

"How ya been, Little Blondie?"

The princess stopped crying and looked up at him dubiously.

"Hey, I know you have a name, kid. And you're not blonde. But your mom was, well, years ago, and well, you might have been? Maybe? I don't know. Anyway, so you're like a little version of Blondie only you're little, so, there you go, Little Blondie! Ta-da!"

The princess gave a little gurgle which Eugene could've sworn, sworn, sounded like a snort of disbelief. Or at least, like the sound Maximus made when he was presented with a bushel of apples he didn't particularly care for.

Come to think of it, Little Blondie's expression looked a lot like Maximus, too, very often these days. Double damn.

"Soooo…you like crying, huh?"

Little Blondie, her expression looking slightly less Maximus-esque now, uninterestedly stuck her thumb in her mouth.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I'm sure crying's a big thing in Baby Land. Heck, I remember it happening all the time in the orphanage. I'll bet I was of the great criers once myself at your age (um, don't tell anyone I said that, okay?)"

Eugene smiled affectionately, leaning forward to kiss his daughter's nose. "But…it's kinda late, you know? And I got a long day tomorrow, lots of boring meetings with your granddad (and if you don't mind, I'd rather you didn't share that with him either, okay?)"

"I know you've been fed and changed less than an hour ago, so I'm guessing this is just a cry to get some attention from daddy, hmm?" Eugene tickled her feet gently. Little Blondie giggle-gurgled (giggurgled?)

"So what do you say, I put you back down, you hit the hay, let daddy do the same, hmm?"

Little Blondie raised her eyebrows. Could she possibly be mulling over his offer? Dare she accept?

Eugene gently lifted her from his shoulder and placed her in the crib.

She closed her eyes. Whew. Home free!

He started to back away when –


Or not.

Frustrated, Eugene raced forward and gathered her in his arms again, sitting back down. "Shh, shh, I'm here." He rubbed her back soothingly. "Don't cry, LB, I'm right here."

Little Blondie/LB cried a muffled sob, tears still falling on her face.

Eugene sighed wearily, cradling her so she faced him. "Okay, I didn't want to have to do this, but you leave me no choice: here comes the smolder!"

Eugene put on his best smolder, his very, very best smolder of all. The one that won all the ladies hearts in kingdoms far and wide. The one that made the maidens simper and drool. The one that made any woman, any woman at all, squeal in utter delight.

Little Blondie took one look at it.



Eugene was starting to sweat. What to do, what to do, what to do?

Well, whenever Rapunzel had trouble getting the baby to sleep, she always sang to her.

Oh, no. Oh, no!

"Oh, no," said Eugene a little more vehemently than he should. "No. No, no, no."

"Sorry, girly," said Eugene confidently. "I don't sing."


"Okay, okay, but really, don't make this a habit, and whatever you do, don't tell anyone else, okay, especially not your mother!"

Eugene cleared his throat, looking around furtively, and started to sing as quietly as he could. "I have dreams like you, no really! Just much less touchy feely! They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunnyyyyyyyyyyy! On an island that I own, tanned and rested and alone…surrounded by enormous piles of moneyyyyyyyyy!"

The princess stopped wailing and clapped her hands together, giggle-gurgling happily.

Smiling, Eugene kissed her forehead, placing her back in her crib as she drifted off to sleep. "Good night, my Little Blondie."

As quietly as he could, Eugene tiptoed back to bed and got in, pulling the covers over him.

"Hey," said Rapunzel, smiling at him softly.

"Oh, hey. I didn't know you were awake. Sorry."

"It's okay, the crying woke me up," said Rapunzel. "Everything okay?"

"Sure, sure, no problem at all. She's sleeping like a baby."

Rapunzel propped herself up on one arm. "How did you get her to fall back asleep?"

"Uh…" Eugene fumbled. "Nothing really, just used the smolder. I tell you, it works on everyone!"

Rapunzel snorted, smilingly playfully. "Sure, it does."

"No, really!"

"Sure, sure."

"Good night, Blondie."

Rapunzel smirked softly, pulling the covers over herself as she turned over in the bed.

"Good night, Mr. Island Warm and Sunny!"