My first tangled fic. This is very exciting for me! :) Alright. Now this is a prequel to the movie: the night that Eugene became Flynn Rider.

It is important to note that I wrote this in half an hour and is also my entry for the AUT writing comp. Wish me luck!

Dark and Stormy Night

At the risk of sounding clichéd, it was a dark and stormy night. Not the type of dark and stormy that one would imagine. You know, the whole 'dark clouds' and 'thunder and lightening' dark and stormy. No. This 'dark and stormy night' was different and was totally and unbelievably, not to mention oddly, frustrating.

It wasn't raining.

This may have been seen as bizarre by many people. But the fact that it wasn't raining made the night even worse even to those who had forgotten to bring their washing off the line for the night.

It was like the tide being pulled back before a tsunami, or…or, a child's face going red before a scream.

It was like the whole world was waiting for something to happen; the universe was holding its breath.

It smelled like rain and the clouds were incredibly dark and heavy. A meteorologist or a smart kid could have even told you that the clouds were cumulonimbus clouds which are often referred to as 'storm clouds' because they are the clouds that seem to always be in the sky right before a storm.

Alright; I think that's enough about clouds. Let's go forward in time a bit to midnight of this 'dark and stormy' night where a boy, probably no more than fifteen, was going to sleep.

Well…going to sleep was probably the wrong way to put it. Let's rephrase that; the boy was trying to go to sleep, but was struggling with a sudden overpowering sense of paranoia.

Flynn, as that was the name of the teenager, gave up his quest for a peaceful slumber, and instead settled on the sill of his bedroom window so he could look out over the city.

Flynn was the type of child earlier mentioned. He could have told you the type of clouds hanging in the sky, and even go into a full breadth explanation of how lightening and thunder are formed.

He was also one of the residents of an orphanage whose matron had unfortunately forgotten to bring the clothes in from the line.

From his perch, Flynn had a great view of the western side of Corona as well as a view of the orphanage's washing line, full of their most valuable clothes after church.

Flynn watched in fascinated horror as the wind picked up and blew his matron's husband's prized suit jacket from the line and threw it over the fence, only to be thrown into the air again by another gust and flailing into the distance like…well like a suit jacket being blown around by strong winds.

Watching the jacket reminded him of the freedom he yearned to have. The orphanage was great, sure for a seven year old and the matron made a lovely mother…well until you were made to act as her slaves at the age of thirteen.

After that age, most of the orphans had new homes around the kingdom, except for the fair few who had been denied homes time and time again.

Flynn had been planning his escape from the orphanage for months after getting the particularly nasty job of changing the much younger orphans and he was sure that his plans weren't going to fail.

He was Flynnigan Rider, richest man alive. He could accomplish anything. Well, so he wished. Kind of like he wished that Flynnigan Rider was his real name, like the hero from his favourite story…and not Eugene Fitzherbert.

But when he escaped, he would change his name and monetary status and buy himself a castle on an island…surrounded by enormous piles of money.

How was he to get this cash? He himself had wondered the same thing…but he was sure that with the sneaky way he was able to get the younger kids to do the dishes, he would manage to steal his way to the top.

As an orphan at a poor orphanage, Eugene had not been taught what was right from what was wrong so the fact that he was going to steal things in order to make his lifestyle better didn't make him flinch as he jumped from the ground window and scuttled across the courtyard, ducking under a bush as one of the royal guards strolled past.

He grabbed an expensive suit jacket off the line on his way past to start his collection.

Then a drop of rain fell on his brunette head. Many followed in an instant; darkening the blue of his vest to a navy in the time it took him to exit the orphanage grounds.

The rain washed away Eugene, replacing his quivering expression with one of triumph as Flynn made his way to a nearby pub he was sure would be open even at this late hour.

Today, on this dark, stormy night he was Eugene Fitzherbert: orphan…but tomorrow, he would be Flynn Rider: the richest man alive.