GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I UPDATED. I didn't plan to not update… I actually have a couple of stories written up, but I just never got around to putting them up… So much stuff has happened since my last oneshot… Here's 2010 summed up: I got a job at Disney World (in Fantasyland, go figure) and Tangled turned out to be a great movie.

Notes:

I'm glad you guys like my sense of humor. I consider myself to be a funny person, but I don't know if anybody else thinks so. XD (Sadly, there's only one joke in this oneshot, and it's pretty lame. Sorry; it's a serious one!)

Thank you all for saying how in-character Tianaveen are! xD It's hard for me to tell sometimes if they are or not; I write whatever I feel like, and I'm afraid that sometimes 'what I feel like' won't be what Tiana and Naveen would 'feel like'. xD . It's great to hear that you all think they're acting like themselves! :D Seriously, I just write lines down as I think of them. Naveen is especially easy for me to write for, which is odd, since I'm neither married, male, Maldonian-accented, or a ladies' man. XD

This next oneshot's a little sad. If you tear up, I did it right. If you don't, I need to try harder. XD I just felt that I needed to have a sad/sentimental story in here to contrast with all the sappy sap sap goodness (now with extra sap!) and humor in my other ones. Humor is fun to write and to read (lolratatouille), but I think it's the bittersweet stories that leave the biggest effect on us. Even though there's PLENTY o' sap and cheese in this one too… This oneshot's also nice and long, since the last few have been a bit short. There won't be any A/N after this chapter because I want to preserve the poignancy.

This is a few months post-movie. Tiana's Palace has been completed.

Forgotten

She hadn't been expecting him to say it. Naveen seemed to have been perfectly content just sitting there, holding her. Ray and Evangeline shone down on the pair, beaming down at them from the night sky. She thought stargazing was the only thing Naveen had brought her up on the roof of the Palace for. They sat on the paved rooftop, leaning against the wall and staring up into the night in complete silence for a long while. Naveen had draped his arm around Tiana's shoulders. She naturally leaned into him. And then, he said it. She remained silent.

"Please Tiana, I want to know," he continued when she gave no answer.

Tiana looked at him. Even though it was a hot summer night, she felt herself shiver. Then she looked away. She could feel the lump beginning in her throat.

Naveen felt her trembling and pulled his arm tighter around her. "I want to know," he said again. "Please tell me about your father," he repeated. "Something; anything. I should know about the man who is responsible for who you are today, and yet, I do not even know what his name was."

Tiana blinked the tears back; second nature after so many years. "James," she said, too quietly for him to hear.

"What?" Naveen asked softly.

Tiana looked at him again. "His name was James. And he was a good, good man."

Naveen rubbed his hand up and down her upper arm, comforting her. His eyes left her face and he stared at the ground. This was going to be difficult for her. "Tiana…" he said. "He must have been. If he was anything like you, I am sure he was a very great person. He was a cook as well, yes?"

Tiana nodded a little. "Yes. Taught me everything I know."

"Ah, so it is he who I have to thank for my mincing skills!" Naveen smiled at her.

She smiled back, a small smile highlighted by glistening eyes. Tiana nodded again.

"You loved him very much. Tell me," Naveen said, his gaze returning to the night sky, "What was his favorite dish to prepare?"

It was then that the first tear fell. Tiana had been trying to fight it, but his question brought back painful memories. Naveen saw the drop roll down her face, reached over, and took her hand in his. Yes. This was going to be difficult for her.

They sat, still and silent for a few moments, until Tiana finally spoke up.

"It was calas," she said.

"Calas?"

"Mm-hmm, fried rice cakes." Tiana nodded. "We used to make them together every Saturday morning. "Some of my earliest memories are of him getting me out of bed early so we could start cooking the rice before Mama woke up."

"But… You have never made calas. I have never even heard you mention them before. Why not? They are a traditional New Orleans dish, no?"

"They are, but… But…" More tears. Tiana couldn't continue. Her heart was hurting too much. It had been eight years since she had even thought about calas.

Naveen let go of her hand and moved his own to cup the side of her face, tilting it towards his. He looked straight into her eyes. "You do not have to continue if you do not wish to."

Tiana took a shaky breath. "No. You should know, and I shouldn't keep it bottled up inside me…"

A few more silent moments passed. Naveen reached down and grabbed Tiana's hand again. She shivered once more, and looked up at the two evening stars, still glimmering brightly at her. "The last time I made calas was eight years ago."

Naveen squeezed Tiana's hand within his own. He knew that this was the year her father had passed away.

"I was eleven," she continued. "Daddy had been drafted into the war about six months before, but me and Mama would still wake up early on Saturday mornings and make calas. It helped us to remember him while he was away. It was to tide us over 'til he got back."

Her voice cracked on the last word. Tiana paused and looked over at her husband. Naveen was listening intently, a serious look on his face. She knew he saved that look only for the gravest of matters.

Tiana brought their intertwined hands to her shaking lips. "The last Saturday I made them… I was getting the cinnamon and nutmeg out of the cupboard... And there was a knock at the door. Mama was busy starting to mix the dough, so I went to answer it.

Naveen was unsure of what she was going to say next. Her tremors continued. He pulled her closer to him.

Tiana went on. "There was a man there… A man holding a small box. He asked if this was my daddy's house, and I told him yes. Then he asked if mama was home, and when I said yes again, he asked me to get her. So I called out to her." The tears were flowing freely now. Tiana had never told this story to anyone, not even Charlotte. "When Mama saw the man, her eyes went wide and she sent me away to my room.

She stopped again and looked as though she were about to choke. When Naveen tried to help her, she said, "No, no. I'm fine… Let me finish."

Tiana continued, saying, "About ten minutes passed, and I heard the door shut. And then I heard something I had never heard before; Mama was crying. I peeked out of my bedroom and saw her sit down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. I went to her and put my hand on her shoulder." Naveen's own hand on Tiana's shoulder twitched. " 'Babycakes,' she said, 'Your daddy loved you very much.' She looked up at me and I saw the tears in her eyes. Then I felt tears starting in my own, when I realized that she had said 'loved'.

"She told me that Daddy wasn't coming home. He had died fighting, somewhere in France. The box held an American flag and all the medals he had earned."

Naveen couldn't move. He had no idea how to comfort her. He still had both his parents, and often took them for granted. He didn't know how he would handle that kind of loss if it had happened to him.

"And the calas dough…" Tiana finished, "It was still sitting there on the counter, half mixed. Mama and I couldn't bear to finish making them, and neither of us have made them since." She held back a sob.

"Tiana, I…" Naveen shook his head. "I do not think you should never make calas again. I did not know your father, no, but I think he would have wanted you to continue making them." He took the hand that was in his own and kissed the back of it. "In his memory. He would not want you to forget. Did you not say you had wonderful memories of making calas with your father? I think you should make them again, for the sake of those happy memories."

Tiana looked at the ground. "I don't know," she said. "I mean, I know you're right, but… I just don't think I can, even though I know I should. You're right; Daddy would have wanted me to." She leaned into Naveen a little more. "But I just don't think I could bear it."

"But all those mornings… With your father… Surely you do not want them to fade away?"

Tiana stilled. He was right, and she knew it… She just wasn't strong enough. She hadn't been strong enough for the last eight years.

"No, she said. I don't…"

The past week had been hot, but this morning was unseasonably cold. They had to go in the early morning, because the restaurant served breakfast on Saturdays. Tiana pulled her coat closer and hooked her arm through Naveen's as they walked. A fog had rolled in overnight, giving the headstones and grave markers a slightly eerie feel. They were silent, and the only thing that could be heard was the crunch of the wet gravel as they traversed the path.

"This way," Tiana said, pointing off to the left with the hand that held the bouquet of white carnations.

Naveen gripped the basket he held tighter. They came to a small grave in a corner, next to a willow tree.

James

Beloved Husband and Father

1871 - 1918

Tiana set the bouquet down in front of the grave. Her mother must have been there recently; it looked like it had been cleaned, and there was a set of wilting daisies next to her carnations.

"Daddy…" she whispered, putting her hand on her husband's chest and smiling sadly, "This is Naveen."

Naveen bowed his head at the grave and muttered something in Maldonian. At Tiana's questioning look, he said, "A prayer."

Tiana turned back to the stone. "It's okay, Daddy, he's… Not from around here. He's my husband, a prince from far, far away. You always knew I was gonna be a chef, but I bet you didn't expect me to be a princess too, huh, Daddy?" Tiana gave a small smile and pushed Naveen a little, urging him to say something.

"Sir," he began, taking a step forward, "I love your daughter very much. And I know that she loved you very much. And I thank you for helping her to become the woman I love today."

Tiana leaned up and kissed his cheek. "He would have been awful fond of you," she whispered into his ear.

"I brought you these…" Naveen reached into the basket he held and pulled out another bouquet; red tulips. He kneeled and placed them next to Tiana's flowers, whispering to the grave, "She told me you liked them." He glanced back at his wife.

The wind blew harder, sending a chill through both of them. Tiana put her arm through Naveen's again. She gazed at the stone for a few moments more, then she began to tug away lightly, signaling that it was time to go. Naveen nodded in understanding, and they turned to leave.

"Goodbye, Daddy!" Tiana called. "See you soon," she said, and blew a kiss.

They had taken about twenty steps when Naveen suddenly said, "Wait!"

He let go of Tiana's arm and jogged back to her father's grave. She saw him kneel down and take something out of the basket. His mouth moved and he appeared to be saying something. What his exact words were, she couldn't make out. Then he got up and walked back to her, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together.

Tiana glanced back. "What did you-?" she began, and then she saw it.

Placed neatly next to her carnations and his tulips was a plate of calas. They were oddly shaped, and the powdered sugar on top was lumpy and uneven, but the sight of them pleasantly sitting there made Tiana's eyes begin to mist.

"How did you-? When…?"

Naveen smiled. "I got the recipe from your mother. I do not think they are exactly as you and your father used to make them, but it is the thought that counts, no?"

Tiana tilted her head upward and pressed her lips to his own. "Thank you," she whispered into his mouth.

Wiping a tear from her eye before it fell, Tiana asked, "What did you say to him?"

Naveen began to walk, and pulled her along with him. For a few seconds, only the crunching gravel beneath their feet was heard.

"I told him… That you would not forget."