I watched Tangled again with my sister recently, and got the inspiration to write up this little prequel about Eugene's mom. This chapter is rated T, as some of the themes, language, and implications may be a little strong for kids.

Chapter 0: The Tale of Edlyn Frewer

Edlyn knew something was wrong as soon as the messenger had knocked on their door.

No messengers came at this hour. Why, it well after dark. The moon provided most of the light in the room she sat in, nestled in her corner on a rickety brown stool too small for even someone much younger than she was, poking the fire without a sound. Lady Anne, the mistress of this household, sat on her lavender velvet sofa, fingering her almost white-blonde hair. Her son, little twelve-year-old Anthony, slept in his room above their heads.

Lady Anne was, in her most youthful days, most likely one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in the kingdom, surpassing the queen herself in natural regality. Her cheekbones were high and defined, her nose smooth and pointed, her eyes an emerald green, her brows thin and arched. But, it seemed, she had gotten a tad too used to looking so fair, while the demon that is time never gets used to anything. Now, the Lady of the Achain manor spent every morning powdering away any unseemly spots, rolling whatever contraptions and tools she can find on her still forming wrinkles, and bathing her hair in all sorts of strange potions to keep its color.

In hindsight, Edlyn should have known from the start that to be a pretty, very young girl in the house with such a mistress would be a very dangerous thing.

"Get the door, child," Lady Anne spat, without even looking at her young maid, but clearing wishing to call her something other than "child". She impatiently rapped her fingernails on the carved wood of her sitting room table as Edlyn rose. Minding her swelled stomach, the girl made her way to the doorway. "Can't you go any FASTER! ?" her mistress snapped suddenly, slamming her hands on the table harshly enough to send the golden vase on it shaking.

"I'm sorry, madam," Edlyn whispered. She shrank back into her brown hair, her face hidden, "it's just, the baby—"

"The baby, the baby, the baby, that is your excuse for everything!" Lady Anne jumped from her sofa. She shoved past her maid, marching to the door herself. "And the door remains unopen. Do you have any use anymore?"

"I'm sorry." Edlyn said, as quietly as a mouse's squeak.

Taking a second to regain her composure, Lady Anne opened the door.

There stood a man, dressed in a black tunic with a similar hood hung over his head, casting a shadow over his face.

"No." Lady Anne gasped. Eldyn's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. There was only one reason for the messenger to be dressed like that.

Sir Herbert had left the house to fight off barbarians from the north who had been attacking smaller villages past the woods. It had only been three months. Surly he could not have…

"I am saddened to tell you that, three weeks ago, the owner of this manor, the great knight Sir Herbert, fell in battle. We got this message to you as fast as we could. His death was honorable. Further information will come in time. Good day, madam." The man bowed, and left the doorstep without another word.

The silence hung in the air. Only the crackle of the fire made any kind of sound.

Edlyn stood, tiny breaths escaping her lips. Sir Herbert. Dead. No, it cannot be. This must be some sort of nightmare.

She remembered the day he hired her. His handsome, sweet face, chocolate brown hair combed back away from his eyes, smiling at her with his shining white teeth.

"Oh, my dear Miss Frewer," he had said, taking her hands in his, letting them rest on his silk vest, "you have such a grace, such a light, it's a shame to see you working this little shop. Please, come work in my house. I'm sure you will be much happier there."

She had been so thrilled then, going to work with such a nice man.

And he was exceptionally nice, too. He never spoke to her as is she was a lowly maid. He spoke to her with kindness and respect. He joked with her, laughed with her, talked of his day and matters of politics, which a man rarely concerned a woman with. He listened to her thoughts and her ideas.

All under the watchful glare of Lady Anne.

And then, there was the night.

He and Lady Anne had fought.

Edlyn was fixing his clothes in his room.

He burst in.

He grabbed her.

He kissed her.

Her heart fluttered, her mind reeled.

He lifted her into his arms, and carried her away from the closet.

And then…

Then, she felt tired. Then, she felt angry, and sad, and happy, all too quickly. Then, certain smells and certain foods made her feel so ill she couldn't stand to be around them. Then, her stomach started to get bigger, and bigger, and bigger…

Then, Lady Anne knew. She knew that Edlyn was with child. And she knew who the father was.

Then, Lady Anne no longer gave the girl glares from across the room, no. She ordered her about this way and that, day and night. She insulted her when the smallest thing went wrong, she sneered at her, screamed at her, threw her in her room and locked the door when she got her maddest. She told Anthony that Edlyn was not to be treated well, that she was a sinner and a seductress, practically a witch. But Anne was unfortunately smart enough to hide all of this from her husband, and Edlyn was far too afraid of her to tell.

A tear fell down Edlyn's cheek. Her hand pressed to her belly, rubbing her baby from the outside. What was to become of them now?

"You." Lady Anne snarled. "You."

She turned around, her eyes wild, almost animalistic, with fiery rage. With a snap, she dove toward her maid, nails bent like claws.

Eldyn yelped in fear, spinning on her heels to race to her tiny room. She closed it just in time, Anne banging at the door so hard she worried the woman might actually break it down.

"You WHORE!" the woman screeched, pounding on the wood with all her might, "You little WHORE!"

Balled up in her corner, Edlyn wanted so dearly to cry and cry, but she could only sit in soundless terror as her mistress's bashes grew faster and harder, shaking the door with each collision. Shutting her eyes, she held her child inside her, trying to cloud the sounds with thoughts of it.

The baby had been promised a house in the upper-kingdom. Small but stable, with a nice couple who would quietly take the baby and raise it as their own, had they been given a sizeable fee. She would be allowed to return to her job at the shop, and all of this could be behind her.

But she had the idea that this was not going to happen anymore.

Finally, with one last BANG, Lady Anne crashed through the door, ripping Edlyn from her place by her braid.

"You. You get out of my house. I tolerated you, I tolerated your tempting of my husband—"

Edlyn sobbed under the woman's grip, "I never meant to—"

"Shut up! I'll have nothing of your filthy lies. Get out of my house. Get out of my house now!" Still by her braid, Anne dragged the girl out of the room and to the door, not loosening her deathly hold. Just for a moment, Edlyn was able to look up to the stairs.

Anthony stood there, just a small form wrapped around the railing, small smirk on his face.

"But madam, what will happen to the baby—"

"You and your bastard can burn in Hell for all I care." Edlyn fell onto the ice cold stone of the front stoop, her breath ghosting into the chilled midnight air.

"Is the evil woman gone for good, Mother?" she heard Anthony say from inside the house.

"Yes, dear, she isn't coming back ever again."

"Good."

Edlyn clutched her stomach, pushing herself from the ground. The sky lay dark and cold above her. The street was silent, marble white, almost eerily so, and the heels of her worn boots began making the only sounds as she walked.

So this was it.

Where was she going to go?

She had no money. She had no food. She didn't even have a hole in the ground to provide shelter. And as all wealthy women were avid gossipers, she had no doubt in her mind that Lady Anne had her name thoroughly soiled to anyone for many streets down, possibly throughout the entire upper kingdom.

But maybe, if she just tried, she could get a bit of sympathy.

She made her way to a nearby house, one not as large or stately as her old home. Knocking on the smooth, carved wood, she held her breath and prayed.

The door opened slightly, just a sliver of light breaking through to the street. The lady of the house, dressed in a long white nightgown, looked at her with one eye through the slit.

"Madam, I was hoping you would please—" Edlyn began, but the door was slammed in her face. The street was once again dark.

She was all alone.

Possibly forever.

As she walked along the soundless streets, still desperately grasping her belly, she looked to the sky—dark and cold. Rumbling storm clouds loomed over her like an anger strait from above. Even the few stars able to shine through glared down at her, her dishonor, her worthlessness. Her thoughts drifted to her parents, and she could suddenly feel their eyes glaring down at her with the stars. Their daughter was with child, unmarried. What could be more shameful? What could tarnish their dead names further?

Shaking with exhaustion, coldness, and fear, Edlyn finally fell on a corner to rest her eyes. She rubbed her stomach thoughtlessly as silent tears again slide down her cheeks. A slow, deep breath rasped through her throat and she cried harder, letting all her despair flow from her and soak into the dirt. She cried for her baby. For the future it no longer will have. For its father. For his stupid kindness and care that brought her to this corner in the first place, but she still could not bring herself to hate at all. For her dread of what is to come. For the complete uncertainty of how she will possibly feed herself and her child.

She may have to beg. Or steal. Or worse.

Thunder crashed. Rain poured down. She scooted deeper into the corner. Then, she looked up to the sky, letting the raindrops wet her face.

"Why?" she whispered, barely above a breath.

And then, for the first time, she realized. Tomorrow was her eighteenth birthday. Or maybe it was today, she didn't know what time it was then.

Edlyn was a woman now, or at least was supposed to be. She could not be a child any longer if she was to have one herself! But she felt like a tiny child, wrapped in her father's rough linen shirt, letting his rocking chair calm her fear of the flashing lightning and the heavy rain pattering down onto the thin wood of their roof. Her mother's candle flickered beside her, and she watched it dance back and forth, casting warm light over the walls. She closed her eyes, content and safe, and listened to a soft lullaby sung by her mother's sweet, quiet voice.

Another boom of thunder, and she was back on the street again, mud seeping through the cobblestones below her boots. She sighed as she fell back onto the wall behind her, dropping her head.

She felt it. And then she knew.

No.

No.

Impossible. Not now.

But the aching pain in her lower stomach was undeniable—as well as the water trickling down her thigh she had assumed was rainwater.

No no no no no!

She needed to find shelter…no, she needed to find shelter and some form of a midwife, if either of them were to make it to see the morning. Even if she was able to find a warm home, there was no telling if anyone there could help her give birth to her baby. Where on earth?

Then, a thought flickered in her mind. A small one, but a hopeful one. There was a place, not too far into the lower-kingdom, that housed left-overs like herself. She was too old to go there when she was orphaned, but maybe it could give her a home, if not for a little while.

Shaking as she stood, Edlyn began walking down the empty road. She could not run, no, but she could wobble as fast as she could.

Clutching the walls beside her to keep herself from falling, she clambered along the cobblestone as she made her way across the Crossover street to the lower-kingdom, the only place where she'd get any sympathy whatsoever. There, a few stragglers still littered the streets, mostly darkly-hooded men lurking in the allyways and their female companions lounging on their shoulders. It did little to phase her; she lived near the lower-kingdom most of her life, she's seen what it was like.

A single light was on in one of the smaller buildings, and with that light she could read the sign in front of it: Coronian Home for Orphans.

With her last bit of energy, Edlyn staggered up to the front door and knocked, wishing, praying with all her heart that she won't lose her last chance.

A tired woman opened the door all the way.

"Its coming," she squeaked out, the ache in her abdomen hitting even harder than it was before, "and I had nowhere else to go."

Finally, something tonight decided to take mercy on her and go right—the woman nodded, and led her into the orphanage. Edlyn sighed, finally, with relief. The water trailed dripping behind her as she followed the woman to the back room, and Edlyn's heart finally slowed. She could work here. Assist this woman. Help raise her baby with someone who actually knew how.

Finally, she could see the light on the path ahead of her, and her baby.

Would you believe I actually listened to "O Children" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds as I wrote much of the second half?