Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

This is a terrible fucking idea.

 Hugo's had a lot of terrible ideas- too many to count, really- but there’s something almost special about this one.

With an angry grunt the blond pushes his way through the rough foliage of the overgrown patch of forest he finds himself in. It’s a scraggly, rough chunk of terrain; he’s already eaten shit enough times to really be ready to call it quits… but Donella would ream him if he came back empty handed again. The scowl set into his face only deepens, pale skin drawing tighter and tighter around his mouth as he stubs his stupid toe on another stupid rock, and- oh, thank the Maker he can see light.

The moon’s high in the sky, full and round like an uncracked egg. The forest is bathed in a blue light, so Hugo spots the warm orange glow of his target with almost hilarious ease. Really, if these stupid magical fucks want to hide so damn badly, they should really try harder-

Hugo swears loudly as he trips over a gnarled root sticking up from the musty earth.

“Fucks-sake,” He hisses, face down in the damp soil. He can feel the grit of dirt between his teeth- disgusting- and hastily shoves his glasses up onto his face with a growl. This artifact Donella wants had better be worth it; Hugo deserves a vacation after walking out here for the last three days. It had been that long since the nearest town, at least, where he’d looked at the path leading out of the small village, turned ninety degrees away, and started walking into the thick brush. Donella had told him that what she wanted was buried deep in the Coronian forests, in one of the supposed magician’s little hideaways.

As he draws closer, he can feel a buzzing in the air, almost like electricity- but as Hugo draws near enough to see his prey, he can’t help but grin. Classic, stupid assholes; even out in the middle of the woods someone was bound to eventually find their hideout; no wonder they’d been so easy for Donella to track. Hugo scoffs as he hunkers down into a bush, peeking out into the clearing beyond with a calculating glare.

Before him lies a large mansion, old and creepy as all hell, but well maintained. It isn’t a large footprint- but it’s tall, with a high vaulted roof and thin but long windows capped in perfect arches. The old Victorian mansion has a large, wooden porch that wraps around, jutting out like a great creeping maw near the front door- ready to devour anything that got too close. The faded paint was once a cheery blue, from the looks of it, but the building has long since faded to a depressing grey. The wood was obviously chipping away with the beats of time, ivy and other plants slowly climbing upwards like creeping hands. 

Hugo shudders- he doesn’t exactly believe in ghosts, but that place looks haunted as fuck.

But it’s also the place he needs to be. Hugo bites the inside of his cheek, looking out over the unkept lawn and gnarled gardens, seeing only one of the windows has light coming from it. It’s around the back of the house- and had been the glow that had led Hugo to the building in the first place. A small flickering shine of a single candle, probably in a side room or hallway. That meant that whoever was inside was long asleep- which is perfect for Hugo’s purposes. 

Donella had been brief with her descriptions of the manor and of Hugo’s objective. His mentor wasn’t one to mince words; get in, get the artifact, get out she’d told him. Easy grab, in and out, the usual bullshit.

Hugo hunkers down a little deeper into the bush he’s hiding in. The front door’s out- if anything’s going to be rigged it’s the doors- but Hugo can see one or two sneaky-bastard-sized windows scattered around the first floor. Donella had said that the magician’s leader, a weaselly little weirdo, used this place to guard their most priceless artifacts and treasures… such a shame, then, that they’d forgotten rumors could spread from even the tightest of lips with enough persuasion. 

A pity, but their loss is his gain- and Donella’s victory. 

Hugo slowly leaves the safety of his hiding place, creeping towards the manor with practiced footsteps; they’re so light they would barely snap a blade of grass. As he draws closer, the mansion seems to rise like a monolith, great and imposing as its silhouette blots out the moon. Hugo shudders again, huddling close in the deep shadow caused by the building. He creeps close to one of the windows, a smaller one innocently embedded in the side of the house. Hugo drops his satchel in the dirt, idly hearing it thump. He wraps spindly fingers under the window, giving it a testing tug upwards- and to Hugo’s infinite delight it slides up and open, revealing the curtains drawn shut beyond. The blond has to laugh, how stupid were these people, idly poking a testing hand through the window to split the faded red curtains aside. Inside he can see what looks like a sitting room of some kind, a large space full of chairs and shelves upon shelves of books and assorted trinkets.

Jackpot.

With the quiet movements of a trained thief he slips into the room, his boots landing soundlessly on the carpet. The room’s dark, nearly pitch black in the gloom of the late evening. He’s definitely in a sitting room of some kind, he can see an assortment of trinkets and artifacts -staffs, jewelry, crowns, idols, the room was a literal treasure trove. Hugo’s green eyes widen in delight at the sight of them all, the blond reaching backwards towards the window to grab his bag.

But his hand never makes it. 

As if touching glass, his hand stops short on the threshold of the window. It’s like touching a perfectly invisible object, something flat and crackling with energy. Hugo’s mouth goes dry- Donella hadn’t told him about any sort of wards or spells protecting the manor, but obviously they have some kind of crazy magic bullshit in place. Hugo smacks his hand against the force a few more times, growing more and more desperate as the seconds tick by. 

“Shit,” He mutters with each hit, the small thumps reverberating around the quiet room, “Shit, shit, shit, shitshitshit-”

By the Maker- he’s fucked. Hugo can feel something like panic claw up in throat from his chest- he’s stuck, that much is obvious, trapped in this shitty, haunted mansion, for Maker knows how long-

Footsteps.

Hugo dives behind a chaise before he can think about it, the purple fabric of it seeming almost black in the night lighting. Hugo can see, through the crack at the bottom of the door across the room, a moving light. The footsteps grow louder- the hallway must have wooden floors- and the light turns into a proper beam, starting on the left side of the door. Someone must be walking by, probably with a candle or some kind of light, Hugo realizes. He hunkers down just the little more in his hiding place, holding his breath as the beam of light passes, moving from one side of the door to the other, the footsteps never faltering as the person walks by with even measure.

Finally, after an agonizing few seconds, the person passes. The footsteps fade away, and the light grows dimmer and dimmer before vanishing entirely. Hugo lets out the breath he’d been holding- his lungs burn. He begins to slouch a bit, pressing his back a little more against the chaise as he breathes. 

“Okay, stupid.” He mutters into the empty room. “What are we going to do now?” 

The open window stares back at him, mocking him, a tempting wrong answer to his problems. The cool summer air blows in from the open window, fluttering the curtains in a fun little fuck you to Hugo’s predicament- by the Maker he’d really fumbled this, and he’d only gone into one room.

Donella’s going to kill him.

Okay. Okay no, no more panicking, he needs a plan. Obviously escaping out the window isn’t happening, and there’s someone awake running around, so Hugo has the idea that he had to be at least a little quiet about how he approaches this. He sneaks closer to the door, pressing an ear against the ornate, carved wood. He can’t hear anything from the other side, so with a cautious hand he twists the brass doorknob a half inch at a time.

The door opens soundlessly- Hugo peeks out into the abandoned hallway with a critical eye. He cracked the door a little more, moving out into the hall. It’s long, spanning what must be the length of the mansion, covered in old portraits that seem to stare into Hugo’s soul.

“Fucking… wonderful.” He mutters, moving towards where he knows the front of the house is. If the windows are warded, there’s a chance the door may not be; the people living here have got to have a way in and out, right? There’s someone still in here, so the house can’t be under total lockdown… right?

The hallway lets out into a large entrance hall, a three-story tall grand room of solid oak pillars and marble floors. The walls here are covered in banners and torches, dimly lit in the late evening but bright enough that Hugo can see a large crest set into the floor. He knows it’s the crest of the weird magic folk he’s out to rob- the ones who currently had locked him in their house of horrors. He can’t really describe it, it’s a strange, rounded shape that, if anything, Hugo would say looks like a pissed off jellyfish.

He makes his way across the floor, sticking close to the edge of the room. Hugo winces when his boots make the tiniest footsteps, a small padding noise that rings in his ears. When he makes it to the door, he tests the handle, tapping its curved brass surface.

Locked.

Of fucking course.

Hugo scoffs, backing away. Fucks sake, what’s he supposed to do now? Don’s going to murder him, if he doesn’t starve to death in this house of horrors first. Hugo spins on his heel, intending to go back to the original room, when, just out of the corner of his eye, he sees it.

A pair of blue eyes blink back at him from the shadows of the upper floor, peeking through the rungs of the bannister.

As soon as Hugo makes eye contact the person blinks and backs away, those sapphires disappearing into the shadows. Hugo hears frantic footsteps running along what must be more hardwood upstairs, clumsy and rushed as the person runs away.

“Hey!” Hugo barks, any sense of stealth long lost. He’s been caught- no more pussyfooting around. He bolts up the stairs to his left, taking them two at a time with ease. “HEY!”

The person doesn’t stop- Hugo catches sight of pale skin and black hair before they round a corner. If Hugo’s right, it should be a dead end at the end of that hallway. He takes the turn fast, slipping on the maroon carpet runner and nearly eating shit but just managing to get his feet under him. Hugo looks up with a scowl, intent on catching the fucker and demanding to be let out-

And comes face to face with a wall.

Shocked, he looks around. All there is a long hallway and a set of windows, no doors, no exits- and yet the person is just gone, vanished into thin air like a ghost. A chill runs up Hugo’s spine at that, the blond clenching his hands. People, in his experience, don’t just disappear.

“What the fuck?” He mutters to himself, looking quizzically at the taxidermized heads and paintings hanging on the walls. They stare right back at him as he huffs for breath. “What the actual fuck, I’m losing my marbles!”

He’d seen someone, Hugo’s sure of it. Blue eyes, black hair- they’d been here. But now they weren’t. Hugo scowls, kicking at a decorative stand with a grunt. The vase on top of it rattles ominously, but stays upright. The blond shakes his head, moving back into the mansion. There has to be a way out of this shitty house, and he’s going to find it if it kills him.

He doesn’t find it.

Hugo spends the rest of the night searching the house. Every window, every door, every crack in the bloody wall- and all of it turns up null for an escape route. The house is sealed tighter than a chestnut, and Hugo’s ready to tear his hair out. Eventually he drags himself back to the room he’d entered the house though, the window still wide open as an extra kick to the balls-

Hugo sighs.

He sinks down onto one of the couches, the exhaustion of an all-night panic attack settling deep into his bones. He’d torn through the mansion like a bat out of hell for so long, his body was demanding rest. The blond had retreated back to the main room in defeat, scooping up a fire poker as an impromptu weapon as his alchemy supplies was in his bag, outside. Hugo pushes his glasses up to the top of his head with a sigh, rubbing at burning eyes with a rough touch.

“Shit.” He whispers into the quiet of the room. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The house doesn’t answer. After the chase, Hugo had yet to see another living thing in the house, not even an insect. The person from before had vanished without a trace, but Hugo couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. When he turned, glaring into the dark corners of whatever room he was in at the time, there was never anyone there. It gives him the creeps; the longer he stays in the house, the shorter his patience becomes.

He lies down on the couch, allowing himself to sink into the plush cushions with a sigh. His fire poker sinks a little in his grip, the tip tapping the floorboards as Hugo slouches lower and lower. The claws of sleep sink deep into him, tugging him down into his dreams before he can stop it.

As the sun crests over the horizon, Hugo nods off into a restless sleep.

When he wakes up, it’s to the smell of something cooked.

Hugo cracks a groggy eye open, scanning the room around him. It’s still empty of people, left exactly the way it was when he went to sleep- not a mote of dust out of place save for one thing. When Hugo looks directly in front of him, to a small, wooden coffee table at current face height, he can see a small plate, filled with a few sunny-side-up eggs and two slices of toast with jam. It smells delicious- Hugo’s used to road rations and tough grit from his time with Donella, it’s unusual for him to get to eat actual food- and from the waft of steam coming from the eggs, they’re fresh.

Hugo doesn’t trust it for a second.

The sun’s high in the sky; it must be sometime around noon, from the looks of the light outside. He slept longer than he meant to, but seeing as he was stuck in this hell house either way, a little oversleeping wouldn’t kill him. The blond sits up, grabbing his glasses off a side table of carved mahogany. He stares down at the food with suspicion, eyes narrowed.

The eggs sit there, appetizing and warm. Hugo glares a little harder, scooping up a nearby fork that had been left as well and poking at them. The metal weighs heavy in his hand- real silver. Interesting. The eggs don’t reveal any untoward secrets- no poison or half crushed drugs from the looks of it, but Hugo knows better. Donella had taught him well, after all.

With a scowl he stands, leaving the room without touching the food.

The house is just as gloomy in the day as it is during the night. The arching ceilings hover above Hugo like guillotine’s blade, just waiting to fall. The building is a labyrinth of hallways and strange rooms, piled high with strange artifacts and shelves packed with books and other items, all polished to perfection. It’s something he’d noticed, last night, is that the whole house is spotless- and if anything, that makes it all the creepier. Not a speck of dust has time to settle on anything in the house; if Hugo had to guess it was the person from the night before that kept the mansion as impeccable as it was. There was no one else in the house to do the work, unless there was a different magic other than the bloody forcefield keeping Hugo in at play.

His fire poker is a solid weight in his hand, still the only viable weapon Hugo had found in this freaky house- anything else was either drenched in magic (not something Hugo wanted to toy with thank you) or not exactly useful.

He finds himself in the great hall again. The massive double doors stand proud as they had before, mocking him with how simple escape seemed to be. With a small glace up to the landing, this time devoid of Hugo’s little stalker, he continues on. If memory serves from his frantic search of the house, there was a main library just off the main hall, past a large door of wrought iron and mahogany.

Hugo shoves at the door; it opens on soundless hinges. The library beyond is nothing short of breathtaking, to be fair. Three stories tall, the massive room filled to the brim with shelves and couches, and books, so many books. Hugo is, at heart, still a man of science and knowledge; if he had the time, Hugo could spend years here.

But for now, he needs to look for a way to get out.

A knot forms in his stomach. It’s a hunger pang, he unfortunately knows from experience, but he’d rather pass out than eat something that was potentially drugged. Hugo scowls as he stalks deeper into the library, scanning the shelves. They don’t seem to be in any kind of order, or at least not one Hugo can figure out. The blond turns into an aisle, high shelves on either side to start randomly searching, but stops dead.

On the other side of the aisle, closest to the wall, stands a figure.

It’s the same person as last night, small and thin and short- almost a head shorter than Hugo, with a mop of long, dark hair with a bright streak of teal through it. The boy’s pale- he looks like he hasn’t stepped outside in years, and those blue eyes Hugo remembers so vividly are framed by dark bruises. The boy wears a simple blue vest and white shirt, with moderately tight navy pants, and, Hugo notices with a start, no shoes. There’s a thick pair of goggles perched on top of the boy’s head, made of leather and brass. He looks about the same age as Hugo, maybe a year younger at the maximum.

The boy bites at a plush lip as he scans the books on the far shelf, tapping a finger against his chin as he reads the titles. His head cocks to the side as he reads, completely unaware of Hugo’s presence.

Perfect.

Hugo is, at heart, a sneaky bastard. His footsteps are quiet as he draws closer to the boy, who remains unaware until the very last second. Just as Hugo lunges for him, the boy turns. The blond gets the image of blue eyes going wide with shock before the hand not holding the fire poker grabs onto the teenager’s arm with a firm grip. The black-haired teen stumbles for a second at the sudden grab, but then finally seems to register Hugo’s presence.

And then he starts to scream.

It’s high pitched, near wailing. Hugo can’t help but drop his grip, covering his ears to block it out, the cry rings in his head as it does the previously silent library. The boy takes the chance given to him, trying to push past and run for the exit- but Hugo’s faster. With a quick foot he trips the other teen, the boy landing hard on the floor. His scream cuts off as he hits the floorboards, nearly taking Hugo down with him, but the blond rights himself and manages to get a hold of the boy’s arm again and haul him to his feet.

“You and I,” Hugo grunts as he drags the struggling teen from the shelves, “Are going to have a little chat.”

“Let go!” The teen shouts, furious. He yanks at Hugo’s grip on his arm, digging his heels into the wooden floors. “Let go, let go, let GO!”

Hugo grits his teeth, pulling harder and eventually shoving the teen onto one of the ornate, maroon couches. The boy lands with a thump, flailing a bit on the cushions.

“We’ll start simple.” Hugo’s teeth grit as the boy kicks at his legs. “Name.”

“What?” The kid asks, thrown off.

“Name.” Hugo repeats, shoving the fire poker in the kid’s face. Pale skin gets even paler at the sight of the impromptu weapon, the boy cringing back into the pillows of the couch.  

“V-Varian!” He stammers, hands up in a placating gesture.

“Hugo.” The blond grunts back, “Now, Varian. You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on with this house.”

“I don’t answer to you!” Varian spits, face twisting into a snarl that quickly drops when Hugo brandishes the poker again. “It’s a ward.”

“A ward?” Hugo asks, “Explain.”

“Fuck you-” Another swing of iron. “It’s magic, my master activates it when he leaves for a long time, it’s for protection.”

“Your master?” Gods what kind of weird shit- “Elaborate.”

“It’s his house.” Varian spits, shoving at the fire poker. “Get that out of my face- this all belongs to him.”

“And you?”

“I… work for him.”

Hugo tilts his head, gesturing for Varian to continue. The boy scowls again, but does so.

“He gives me room and board.”

“And that’s it?” Hugo’s heard of weirder, but it’s still strange. Varian nods, picking at the gloves on his hands.

“He takes care of me, and in return-”

“And in return you keep his house.” Hugo nods, understanding. “Alright, so you must know how to let me out, right?”

Varian shrugs, biting his lip. Now that Hugo’s stopped with the outward threats, he straightens a little on the couch. “I don’t know.” He says, and Hugo scowls. “I don’t.”

“And what happens when you want to go outside?” Hugo grunts, putting his free hand on his hip. This whole thing is sketch- something’s still weird here, especially in the way Varian shifts at the question.

“It’s dangerous out there.” He mumbles. The teen’s picking at his gloves again; Hugo’s now ninety nine percent sure that’s a nervous habit, but Varian doesn’t seem to be able to stop. “It’s not safe out there, not for me.”

That’s… suspicious. And strange. But also, untimely, not Hugo’s problem.

“So no one can get out?” He finally asks, and Varian shakes his head.

“Not until my master comes back- which should be in about three days.” He says, and Hugo can’t help but groan.

“Fucking perfect.” He hisses. Varian flinches at the anger, but Hugo can’t find it within himself to care because- “If your master finds me here, won’t he be upset with you?”

Varian bites at his lip again, but stays firm. “He’ll decide what to do when he gets back. I trust him.” The boy says, pushing up off the couch. Hugo lets him, mind reeling. He’s stuck here with this little whelp, a sitting duck while they wait for the guy Hugo is currently trying to rob to get home. He groans, shoving his glasses up onto his head and rubbing at his closed eyes with a frustrated noise.

When he opens his eyes again, Varian has disappeared.

Another day goes by before Hugo sees Varian again.

This time it’s in one of the hallways, the shorter teen balanced precariously on a tall ladder, carefully polishing at the golden frame of one of the paintings. The blond still hasn’t found a way out, he’s starting to dread the idea that there might not be a way out- but then he finds Varian, and at least that comes with the promise of human contact.

“You know,” He says quietly, letting the younger boy hear him without startling him, “If you used vinegar, it would work better.”

“Because of its acidic properties.” Varian says, “Specifically white, distilled vinegar because of its pH level of around 2.5.” A pause. “How do I know that?”  

“What?” Hugo stutters- that’s not a common kind of thing that people just know-

“What?” Varian asks, looking down from the ladder. “Oh. You.” He grumbles. “Come to drag me around again?”

“No- I… okay whatever.” Hugo mutters, “Fuck me for trying to help, I guess.”

Varian laughs. It’s a short burst of a giggle, but it’s… fuck it’s cute. Hugo coughs roughly to keep from being suspicious, refusing to look as Varian slides down the ladder. The shorter boy lands with a thump, his bare feet barely making a sound on the hardwood.

“Thank you for the advice.” He says, cocking a hip. Hugo sticks his tongue out, crossing his arms.

“Whatever, goggles.” He mutters, “Work harder, not smarter if that’s your deal.”

Varian looks away again, shrugging. “I have nothing better to do all day.” He says, “And vinegar will eat at the gold finish over time.”

“Oh.” Hugo says, “Fair, gold’s-”

“Soft.” Varian finishes the sentence for him. “And the master likes it kept in perfect condition.”

Ah.

“Right.” Hugo says, “The master who doesn’t let you go outside, and curses his own house.”

“It’s for my own good.” Varian replies, and the way he says it sounds like it’s something that’s been beaten into him over time. Hugo arches a brow, but pauses when Varian turns to walk down the hall with a gesture of his chin.

“You haven’t been eating.” The boy says. “It’s lunch.”

“For all I know you’re out to poison me.” Hugo grunts. Varian backs off a little, shrinking into himself. Hugo can’t help but feel a pulse of guilt- he’s an interpersonal guy, he knows when to tone down the anger.

In theory.

“I’m waiting for the master to come home before doing anything.” Varian says, “He can’t decide if you’re dead before he gets here.”

That’s… a fair point.

“Fine.” Hugo finally says, subdued for now. “Lead the way, goggles.”

Varian does, the two of them walking through the halls in relative silence. Varian’s jumpy, Hugo can see it in the way his whole body shrinks into itself, the slouch of his spine, the way his arms fold in- he’s seen if before, in people who knew better than to try and fight back.

It doesn’t sit right.

Varian leads him down a series of hallways, turning every direction under the sun. He has the layout of the mansion down, it seems, as even when Hugo’s about as turned around as he can get, Varian never breaks stride. The wooden panels and thick joists eventually turn to stone walls and floors, Hugo noting as the temperature drops by about ten degrees.

Varian eventually ducks into a room behind a thin, wooden door. It lacks the usual decoration of the upstairs of the house, but as Hugo enters, he sees a large, stocked kitchen. Varian gestures for the blond to sit; he does, plopping onto a stool. There’s a large island in the very center of the room, where Hugo now sits, the walls all taken up by either large fireplaces or cupboards. Varian putters around like he knows the kitchen like the back of his hand- which, to be honest, he probably does.

Hugo sinks into his chair as Varian wanders over to a nearby fireplace, one of six, and the only one lit, and inspects the cooking pot overtop it. Hugo watches as he takes the lid off, thinking to himself as a waft of steam flies up into the air. Hugo’s struck by the smell- it smells delicious, like onions and potatoes and something a little more savory. Varian tuts to himself, grabbing a small bag and taking a pinch of salt from it. He measures it for another second before tossing it in. He stirs the soup, for what else could it be, a few more times before replacing the lid.

“Should be ready soon.” He murmurs to himself, “Not quite yet.”

Oh, goodie, he talks to himself.

Hugo slouches, putting his elbows on the wooden, butcher block surface of the island. “So.” He says into the silence of the kitchen. Varian’s spine tenses just a little, but he shifts enough that Hugo feels okay to proceed. “What the fuck.”

Varian snorts at the bluntness. Hugo smiles a little, he can’t help it. Varian plucks a loaf of bread from one of the boxes, along with a knife, and sets away to quietly slicing the bread in thick chunks.

“What are we what-the-fucking?” He asks. “Because no, I can’t let you out of here.”

“How about the house, then.” Hugo tries. Even if he can’t get out, it would be good to know as much as he can. Varian purses his lips, but nods.

“It’s my master’s.” He reiterates. “His family has had it for generations. The wards only respond to him- unless it’s broken.”

“So you can break them?”

“I never said that. He’d know if you did.”

“That’s useless to me.”

“I know, that’s what makes it hilarious.”

Hugo groans, propping his chin on a hand Varian snickers to himself, finishing cutting the bread.

“What about you, then?” Hugo asks. Not that he cares of course, but Varian is… well he’s cute. And smart, if not a little batshit bonkers. “What’s the deal?”

Varian goes a little pale. Suspicious, Hugo’s mind screams, suspicious as hell-

“I. Okay.” Varian sighs. He turns to the pot again, removing the lid and stirring it. That smell wafts through the air again. Varian snags two bowls, deftly scooping the soup into two heaping portions. He turns back, placing the soup in front of Hugo before sitting across from him. “I’ll tell you,” Varian says, “But you have to promise to listen to me all the way through.”

“Deal.” Hugo shrugs, even as the curiosity eats at him. There’s a story here, it seems. Hugo stirs his food idly, taking a bite. Oh, by the Maker, that’s good stuff right there.

“I don’t have any memories.” Varian states blankly, and Hugo chokes on his food. He coughs roughly, hacking into the table as Varian chokes on a laugh. “Are you okay?!” He giggles, pushing a glass of water towards the blond. Hugo, for all he can, keeps coughing into his fist, offering a thumbs up.

“That’s just not what I was-” A pause, to choke on air again, “Not what I was expecting.” He snatches the water and downs it, finally getting himself under control. “Please continue.”

Varian bites his lip to keep from laughing, but nods. “So. No memories.” He says. “About three months ago, the master found me, half dead, out in a winter storm.”

Hugo nods, it’s easy enough to know that something as life threatening as freezing to death can cause amnesia. But then-

“Why are you still here?” He asks, thinking. “Don’t you have family looking for you? Friends?” Varian’s cute, he might even have a lover- even if that would low-key break Hugo’s heart to see such an adorable face off the market. Varian shakes his head, sadly stirring his own lunch.

“Nothing.” He says, “Either there’s no one out there, or they’re not looking. That’s where the master went, to go talk to some of his contemporaries in other kingdoms. He’s looking for something to help me get my memories back.”

“Can he do that?” Hugo asks, mostly to himself. Varian only shrugs.

“Maybe? Magic is a pretty varied subject, or so my master says.” He says, finally taking a bite. Hugo tries to be casual about it, but he’s shoveling the food into his mouth- he’s hungry, hungrier than he thought he was, as if once he got a tiny bite into his stomach a feral thing had woken up and demanded more. He pauses for breath after a good half minute, and keeps questioning; if Varian’s in a talkative mood, Hugo’s going to ask away.

“So you just stay here?”

Varian nods with a smile. “My master takes care of me.” He says, “Memory issues caused by trauma can also cause other problems of the mind. If I wander too far, I could end up lost again.”

“And that’s why the wards keep you inside?”

Varian shrugs. “The master knows what’s best for me.” He says, almost like a mantra. “He gives me room and board, and in return I take care of the house.”

“Seems like an okay trade.” Hugo muses. “Can’t go too wrong with that.”

Varian nods, eating another spoonful of his meal. “He’s trying to fix me. I can’t ever repay him for that, and everything else he’s done to help me.” The younger teen looks a mile away, lost in thought. “I owe him a great debt.”

Hugo thinks of Donella. Grits his teeth.

“You don’t remember anything?” He asks, burying the topic deep. Varian shakes his head sadly, picking at a piece of bread.

“Not a thing.” He murmurs. “I do get… dreams. Flashes. But they’re never anything useful, and the master says they’re not real.”

“How would he know?” Hugo grumbles. Varian pauses, looking nervous. Something tells Hugo he’s had that exact thought in his head before.

“It’s small things.” Varian says. “The smell of apples, a city made of white marble. Sometimes, I see a girl, with long, blond hair. She calls me her brother. The master says it’s just my mind trying to fill in the blanks with lies.”

“And you think that’s right?”

“I think my master wouldn’t lie to me.” Varian grunts. Hugo tenses, setting his spoon down onto the counter. The chill in the air turns frigid. “I think he’s taken care of me, and I trust him- more than I trust you.”

Varian pushes himself back from the island, standing quickly. Hugo doesn’t try to stop him as he leaves the kitchen in a huff, leaving Hugo behind. The blond sighs, picking up his spoon again. He fucked that one up, it seems, but at least he had a little bit more knowledge as to what the hell was going on in this house of horrors.

With a grunt, he shoves another spoonful of soup into his mouth.

It’s infuriatingly good.

The next day is quiet.

If Varian’s to be believed, then his master is due back at the mansion tomorrow. Hugo has a limited amount of time before he’s fucked like a ten-dollar whore, and his corpse is due to be buried in the gardens surrounding the house. Hugo grits his teeth, pissed all to hell, because there’s just one problem.

He can’t get Varian’s hurt face out of his head.

Hugo had fucked up that conversation, that much was obvious, but… well, maybe he felt a bit guilty. Varian was obviously ill, at the very least. There was no reason for the other teen to lie, after all, and Hugo had thrown the truth back in his face. Varian had cooked for him, had tried to assure Hugo that his master was a nice person- and Hugo had been a right dick.

Classic.

The blond grumbles as he fumbles around the kitchen, the same one Varian had abandoned him in before. It had been a challenge to find his way back, but he’d done it- and now, despite wanting to claw his own eyes out, he wanted to try and do something nice. The word makes his skin crawl, but to be fair, Hugo was the one who fucked up.

And, if Varian’s master’s a dick, maybe Varian would stick up for Hugo if they were on better terms again.

The kitchen smells like fire, and something like dead fish. Hugo scowls at the cookbook he’d found on a shelf, one more mistake away from tearing the recipe to shreds and burning the book for good measure. He was just trying to make pasta of all things- he’d picked it because it was supposed to be easy; but in the hour since he’d started, he’d overcooked the pasta, added too much salt to the sauce when the lid of the salt shaker had popped off and dumped the whole thing in, hell, he’d even managed to fuck up the sauce again when cooking it in too small a pot, causing it to overboil and slop down the side.

So the dinner prep was going great, thank you for asking.

Hugo steps on a small fire that had started near one of the hearths, stomping on it with no small amount of concern. It putters out, but leaves a gross little smudge on the tiles. Great.

“Fucking hell,” He mutters to himself, “Light the whole bloody mansion on fire, why don’t I? It’ll go great.”

“I’d ask what you’re doing, but it looks like even you don’t know.”

Ah, fuck. The man of the hour.

“Varian!” Hugo crows, holding his arms out as if displaying the disaster of a kitchen. “So nice of you to drop by!”

Varian inches into the kitchen with an arched brow, looking at the chaos. “I thought I smelled smoke.” He murmurs, “And it seems I was right. What are you doing?”

“What I am doing,” Hugo grumbles, “Is trying to be nice, goggles. Maybe some appreciation would be swell.”

The pot behind him bursts into flames.

Varian shouts in shock, running to the flames with a frantic expression. Hugo whirls around with scared squeal, backing away and tripping over his own feet as Varian snags a dishtowel and grabs at the pot, taking it off the fire with precise movements. The shorter boy carries the fire over to a metal sink, dropping it in and snagging a nearby bucket of water, tossing the liquid in and dousing the flames. The pot sputters, spitting its last as the flames drown out. Smoke rises from the sink, putrid with the stink of burnt tomato paste and onions- near black as it fills the kitchen.

There’s silence as they stare at the sink together. Hugo cringes at the smell, sinking into himself a bit. Varian backs away from the smouldering ruins of the pot, expression unreadable. Hugo’s brain stutters, fuck, way to go, jackass, make things worse, this is what you get for trying to be nice-

Varian bursts out laughing.

“What the hell?!” He gasps out, “It’s… was it supposed to be stew?”

“Pasta.” Hugo sighs, looking to the floor. Varian laughs even harder, bent double so that his head is nearly at his knees.

“Sun above,” He gasps, wiping away tears, “How did you- that badly.”

Hugo shrugs, joining in on the giggles before he can help himself. “What can I say, I’m a man of many talents- just not cooking, it seems.”

Varian laughs harder.

Hugo joins him.

Eventually they end up in the library again, eating simple ham sandwiches together on one of the couches. Varian’s easy to talk to, if Hugo’s real with himself, they share a humour and a passion in the sciences. Varian snorts when he laughs- it makes Hugo’s heart flutter. The library’s warm, despite it being close to midnight by the time they’re done. Varian had shown Hugo something he was calling a phonograph, a small machine that played music after being wound tight. Hugo found it fascinating, the way the soft music fills the room.

“Don’t you ever think of leaving?” Hugo asks at one point, food long done and the drowsiness of the past-midnight hours setting in. The two of them lay on the carpeted floor so that their heads are side by side, only a scant foot between their faces, with their feet going in opposite directions. Varian sighs, staring long and hard at the ceiling.

“Of course I have.” He says, picking at his gloves. “I always have. But it’s dangerous out there, if I were by myself, I’d be dead before the week was up.”

“But… what if you weren’t alone?”

This is a bad idea, a bad, bad idea- but Hugo can’t help it. Hugo’s leaving the mansion one way or the other once Varian’s master returns, be it walking away or in a body bag. But after spending more and more time together, he doesn’t want to let Varian go. Doesn’t want to leave him behind.

Varian bites at his lip, thinking.

“The master would never allow it.” He says, sad, melancholy.

“Not with him, then.” Fuck, Hugo just keeps pushing. Varian turns to him then, looking Hugo in the eye.

“Maybe someday.” He says. “When I’m fixed.”

“But what if you’re not broken?”

The words are out before Hugo can stop them. They ring in the silence they leave behind, the only noise is the soft music from the phonograph. Varian sits up, looking down at Hugo with curious eyes.

“But my memories…” He trails off, thinking.

“Make new ones.” Hugo shrugs like it’s nothing. Varian’s eyes go a little wider, thinking hard, but he still shakes his head.

“I need to stay.” He says, “There’s too many questions.”

It’s disappointing, but Hugo plays it off. “Suit yourself,” He says, and lets the conversation drift again.

They sit like that for hours, into the early morning. Neither of them notice the late (and then early) hour until the sun starts to peek through the curtains of the library windows- Varian looks to them with a shocked expression, blinking.

“Oh.” He gasps, “Morning already?”

It’s day three.

Oh.

“The master will be back soon.” Varian murmurs, biting his lip. Hugo shrugs, trying for nonchalant. Varian tenses for another second, before bolting to his feet. “C’mon.”

Hugo rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself off the carpet, stumbling to his feet after hours of not moving. “Where are we going?”

“You’re getting out.” Varian says, looking over his shoulder for a second before leaving the room. Hugo jogs after him, shocked.

“Wait, I- goggles, wait-”

Varian doesn’t stop, walking to the center of the entrance hall. The symbol embedded in the floor is still there, large and imposing in a dark maroon against the white tiles. Hugo looks at it- still no fucking idea what it’s supposed to be, but Varian kneels at the edge of it with a sort of complicated expression. It’s not fear, not quite, but it’s close.

“What’s happening- hey?” Hugo says, kneeling down next to Varian and taking his shaking hands. Varian looks scared, near frantic; it doesn’t sit well with Hugo at all. “Hey,” Hugo tries again. He does his best not to flinch when Varian’s haunted gaze meets his own. “Deep breath, what are you doing?”

“I-” Varian chokes on the words, but shakes himself. “The master will kill you, he doesn’t take well to trespassers.”

Hugo’s heart sinks at that, but he keeps pressing. “No, hey, I can get past him, it’s okay.”

“No.” Varian says, “You won’t. He’s killed people before- no he hasn’t… maybe he has? But why do I remember it… it was half a year ago” Varian trails off, looking more and more haunted as the seconds tick by.

“For breaking in?” Damn, the guy sounds more intense that Hugo had anticipated. Varian shudders, a full body thing that has Hugo gently touching his elbow. The floor under Hugo’s knees is freezing, colder than it really should be indoors.

“He’s murdered over less.” Varian whispers. He leans down to the sigil in the marble, pressing his palms down onto it. The outline of the shape starts to glow a bright red, overtaking the glow of the torches and the weak sunlight streaming in. Hugo tilts his head, watching with fascination as the crest shines brighter and brighter before, with a great crack that sounds like thunder, the floor splits down the middle. The light dims, fading entirely. All that’s left behind is a large split down the middle of the design, torn open like a great, bloody wound.

The house shudders, as if rumbled down to the very bones. Items rattle on their shelves, paintings drop from the walls. The wood and stone groan in pain as the house wails its agony to the sky. Something in the air, that sense of electricity that had haunted Hugo since the moment he arrived, dies out, leaving an empty shell of a building behind. Things settle quickly after that, the building sinking back to its roots and falling dormant once more.

The two humans stay quiet from their place on the floor, Hugo gaping at the massive, foot wide crack in the marble. Varian shudders again, his hands clenched in pain as he nearly bends double over the stone. That’s enough to draw Hugo from his staring, the blond putting a hesitant hand on the smaller teen’s back. The boy shakes himself, trying to sit straight again with a grimace.

“Okay.” Varian mutters, his voice strained and near breaking. “It’s done.”

“Just like that?” Hugo asks, mind whirling. It was so easy-

“Just like that.” Varian slouches a little more, looking like he’s just signed his own death warrant. There’s a second of silence, before the smaller boy looks up with a grim determination. “You need to go.” He says. Varian pushes himself up with shaking arms, but Hugo meets him halfway, and pulls him up until they’re both standing.

“I- won’t he be mad?” Hugo stutters, caught looking between Varian and the door. Varian grimaces, but shakes his head.

“He won’t kill me.” That’s not great reassurance, “You need to go.”

Hugo’s hands go to Varian’s upper arms, staring deeply into those baby blue eyes. Varian looks scared, near terrified- it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair-

“Come with me.” Hugo says again, “I know you want your memories back, but we can find our own way- make new memories. You deserve better.”

“I can’t-”

“But you should. What’s left for you, living alone in this dusty old house?”  

Varian’s eyes are watery, near tears. “I… okay.” He finally sighs. His head falls forwards, resting on Hugo’s chest. It’s a soft touch, the butterflies in Hugo’s stomach flutter.

“Yeah?” He asks, as if he can’t believe it. Varian looks up to meet his eye, smiling through watery eyes.

“Yeah.” He says, “Let’s go.”

“Leaving so soon, Varian?” Comes a third, male voice. The two teenagers whip around to face the double doors, tensing at the sight of a tall, muscular figure. The man walks into the house with a confident stride, followed by a small group of people. There’s a large man, a woman with a frankly massive amount of hair, and a small, portly, elderly woman. Hugo knows these people- and knows the man in front of him is the owner of the house. Donella had told him all about him, of course she had, she wasn’t stupid enough to send Hugo in unaware as to who he was messing with, but to see the man in front of him was a vastly different feeling. And Varian’s hands, shaking and gripping tight in pure fear, are enough to set Hugo on edge as the man draws closer.

Andrew of Saporia stalks into his destroyed main hall with a sense of confidence Hugo would kill to have. The blond’s always been a fake it till you make it kind of person; he keeps his back ramrod straight even as Varian’s hands grip tight enough to cut off circulation in his arms. Andrew looks to Hugo, but once his eyes flick to the floor before settling on Varian, he smiles.

“Come here, kid.” He says, holding a hand out, palm up. Varian tenses from behind Hugo, but still moves out from behind the blond. When he passes, blue eyes meet green, near tears.

“Sorry.” He whispers, walking to stand in front of Andrew. The man’s smile turns smug as the boy draws close, even as Varian shudders in fear. He takes Varian’s chin in a gentle grip, tilting it this way and that in a calculating manner. Varian goes with the motions, submissive; it makes Hugo’s blood boil.

“What happened?” It’s a flat question, but loaded. Varian bites at his lip, even as Andrew drops his chin and looks at him expectantly. The boy goes to answer, but Hugo’s faster.

“I found your freaky fucking house, is what happened!” He spits, moving forwards. Varian goes pale, wide eyes flicking between Andrew and Hugo with a sense of horror. Hugo draws up, nearly half a head shorter than Andrew but still trying to size him up. The blond shoves Varian behind him, putting himself between the two.

Andrew laughs, a bitter, angry thing as he looks between Varian and Hugo. “So this is what you’ve been up to while I was away?” He asks, as if Hugo’s not even here. The blond bristles, meeting Andrew’s eye.

“Your shitty spell locked me in here.” He spits, “Just like you did to Varian.”

Andrew shrugs, arching a brow. “It’s for his own good, poor little fool’s a blank slate.”

Varian shakes again, pressing tight to Hugo’s back- but the blond instead moves even closer to Andrew, scowling.

“It’s still fucked up, you son of a bitch-”

He’s cut off when he feels a large set of hands grab him by the shoulders, dragging him back and away from Andrew with a rough tug. Varian cries his name, but Hugo’s forced back and away by the large man- Kai, if Hugo’s information is correct- and held in place. Andrew smiles at that, looping an arm around Varian’s shoulders and pulling him into an awkward, one armed hug.

“Your boyfriend’s a little pissy.” He says to the smaller boy, looking at Hugo with a smug face. Varian looks downright miserable, refusing to look anywhere but the floor. Hugo’s blood boils at the flippant way Andrew’s treating Varian, like an object, a toy-

“Boss.” One of the women, the younger one, says, entering the room from outside. She carries a helmet, one of golden metal and carved into an intricate design. The woman tosses it to the ground at their feet, scowling. “It’s just guard uniforms- we can’t use this for shit, Andrew.”

“Could you put a pin in that, please, we’re in the middle of something,” Andrew sighs. The man pauses, however, when Varian twitches. Hugo watches with abject horror as Varian stares at the helmet, his eyes suddenly glowing a horrifying white, taking over the entire shape of Varian’s eyes, eating away until there’s no blue to be seen. The Coronian emblem carved into the helmet stares back up at him.

“Aw fuck,” Andrew spits, moving so that he holds Varian by the shoulders. The boy’s nearly limp, twitching as if in seizure; his lips move like he’s talking, though Varian makes no noise. Hugo watches with terror as Varian violently seizes in Andrew’s grip. The man scowls, shaking the boy lightly.

“Fuck, Juniper.” Andrew sounds furious, looking to the woman. “You set him off again- son of a bitch, we just wiped him, now we’re going to have to do it again.”

Hugo struggles again as Varian’s eyes blink once, twice, a third time; the next time they open they’re back to their normal blue, but terrified.

“Rapunzel!” He screams, falling to the floor. Andrew lets him drop, glaring at Juniper. Varian covers his mouth in pure terror, tears welling up in his eyes. There’s something new in them, Hugo realizes with a start. Before, there had always been a layer of confusion and cloudiness in Varian’s eyes, like he was never really fully aware of what was happening. Now?

Now Varian is very awake.

“Welcome back, buddy,” Andrew sneers, looming over the boy on the floor. Varian glares up at him with a look of such malice- Hugo didn’t even know he could make that kind of face at all, to be honest, but Varian pulls it off rather well.

“Andrew!” He spits, pushing himself off the floor, “You fucker-”

“Oh, every time we do this, you’re always so upset.” Andrew tuts. Varian tries to swing a punch at the taller man, but the brunet catches him by the wrist, tugging Varian close. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Fuck you!” Varian shouts. It echoes around the hallway like the ringing of a funeral bell. “You kidnapped me you sick son of a bitch!”

Oh. Oh shit a lot of things suddenly click in Hugo’s mind. A dawning sense of horror floods his veins at the realization of just what’s been going on hits him like a train. He’d feared Varian was just some poor schmuck who’d been tricked into partial slavery by this asshole but-

“Yeah.” Andrew snickers, “And your precious big sister’s been nice and compliant while you’ve been staying here.”

Fuck.

The tears in Varian’s eyes threaten to spill over, the rage on his face something beautiful. He roughly fights Andrew’s grip on him, but can’t hope to break the man’s hold.

“It’s been a good year.” Andrew’s grin gets sharper, flashing in the weak sunlight. “This is what, round four or five? Every time I think we’re in the clear you just have to start remembering, kid; it’s a pain in my ass.”

“Good!” Varian hisses, and Hugo can see a sudden tenseness in his spine.

Things happen very quickly after that.

Varian draws a foot back and slams his heel into Andrew’s knee with a sharp movement. The crack of bone is loud in the echoing hall, but Andrew’s scream of pain quickly overtakes it. Varian pulls himself from the man’s laxing grip, using his few seconds of shock well. Kai’s hands drop from Hugo’s shoulders, the larger man moving to help his leader. Hugo sprints for Varian before he can figure out anything else, the two of them making a break down the hall opposite from the library.

Andrew’s angry shouting trails after them as they run, the sound of footsteps dogging their heels. Hugo ends up tugging Varian into the room he’d snuck into the mansion from. Together they grab one of the couches, dragging it across the floorboards and shoving it against the wooden door. The door rattles on its hinges as the Saporians yell for them to open it, the banging quickly turning aggressive.

“Time to go,” Hugo says with a small bow, gesturing towards the open window. Varian nods, taking the que and hopping out in a smooth motion. The blond follows, taking a second to scoop up his bag at long last as he does so. Something in him feels a little better at having his supplies with him, though he takes the time to part out a few bombs and pass them to Varian before they move on.

“Here.” He says, shoving them into Varian’s hands. “Just in case.”

Varian’s face is grim, but determined. They sprint around to the front of the house, stopping around the corner and peeking around the siding to see the Saporians out front. The dead grass under their feet crunches, the lawn dying quickly with the ward destroyed. With the ward destroyed, the house is nothing more than a corpse.

“Find that little shit!” Andrew barks, limping. “We need him, if he escapes, and gets back home, we’re fucked-”

“What a morning.” Hugo grumbles. Varian snorts, backing off.

“You’re telling me.” He mutters. “You can’t imagine the headache I have.”

“But you remember?” It’s pretty obvious he does, but Hugo has to make sure. Varian nods, looking a mile away. The smile that creeps across his face is something sad, soft.

“I’m from Corona,” And oh, doesn’t he sound so happy to know that. “I have a sister- and a dad! We were fighting the Saporians… and they took me, to keep her from attacking them.”

“Shit, goggles.” Hugo mutters, “Can’t be fun.”

“They kept wiping my memories.” Varian looks haunted. “Over and over. I’d start to remember who I was, who my family is, and they’d just…” He holds up a hand to the side of his head and moves it away with a flutter of his fingers. “Gone. No more. Until I remembered again.”

“Fuck.” Hugo hisses. “Time to get out of dodge, get you away from them. Guess you don’t have a quick way out?”

“The Saporians use balloons.” Varian peeks back out past the corner. Andrew and his cronies have moved on in their search, leaving, lo and behold, a hot air balloon parked on the lawn. Hugo nods, already thinking.

“Think you can fly it?” He asks, and Varian scoffs.

“I built the thing.” He says, something like pride in his voice. “Fastest balloon in the seven kingdoms, right there. They stole it the night they… well the night I came to live here.”

He looks to Hugo then, the fear long gone. All that’s left there is fury, and a solidified decisiveness. It’s an incredibly attractive look on him; something in Hugo likes this newer, more grounded Varian. The way he walks, maybe, or the newfound confidence- either way, it’s a nice thing to see. If Hugo also casually keeps the reminder that Varian was indeed single in mind… well that’s only for him to know.

They make their way across the dead grass. It’s open space between the house and the balloon, a risky venture; they could be spotted easily without anything to hide behind, and so close to the house. They’d already lost track of the Saporians- and a missing enemy was a dangerous one. The balloon is a marvel of engineering, a perfect interlock of gears and alchemy that makes Hugo drool. Varian works the machine like it’s an old friend, quickly starting the fire.

“Just have to wait for it to heat up.” He says to Hugo, who nods. “Shouldn’t be more than a minute- shit, Hugo look out!”

The blond barely has time to think before something solid collides with his head. A flash of fiery pain bursts from the place he’s hit, Hugo crumping to the floor of the wicker basket. His ears ring with a high-pitched toll, his vision swims-

But over all of it, he can hear Varian scream.

Hugo’s vision fuzzes in and out in a series of images in between each blink, the world flipping in and out in short, disjointed bursts.

The first, the blue sky. Fluffy, white clouds that gently float in the blue expanse. The very tops of trees around the edge. The feeling of being dragged, moved. The edge of the basket coming and going.

The second, laying on his side. Grass tickling his nose. His glasses askew. The sight of Varian being hoisted up and out of the balloon by Kai. The shorter boy snarls as the big lug manhandles him, kicking his legs furiously as his arms are pinned in what’s basically a bearhug.

The third, Andrew drawing closer to Varian with a look of pure malice. The younger teen squirming with rage as the man taunts him. Varian spitting in Andrew’s face. Getting slapped. Varian aiming another kick, getting smacked again.

The world finally stops spinning.

The ringing dies down, the noise of the world filtering back in piece by piece. Andrew’s holding something now, a dark… stick? No, fuck, that’s a wand. Probably the thing that they’ve used on Varian to wipe his memories, if the way those blue eyes widen in horror when Varian sees it is any indication.

“Get that away from me!” He yells, kicking harder. Andrew sneers, dodging a bare foot.

“Will you just knock it off!” Andrew snaps, raising a hand into the air to slap him again. Varian flinches back, tensing and waiting to be hit. The man smirks, dropping his hand and bringing the wand close to the boy’s face, as if mocking him.

Hugo’s up like a shot, ignoring a rush of vertigo, running for the three of them. None of the Saporians notice him, but the wand’s drawing close to Varian’s skin, only a hairsbreadth away-

The blond lets out a shout just as the wand makes contact.

Varian lets out a pained screech, his eyes glowing white just like they had before. Hugo keeps his inertia, using the speed to bodily tackle Andrew away from the smaller boy. He’s got a goo-bomb in his hand before he can think, bringing it down on Andrew and gluing the man to the dead grass. Andrew’s stunned by the sudden shift, but not for long. The man howls in rage as Hugo rolls off of him, out of range.

“You little shit!” He hollers, struggling against the goo keeping him pinned. The wand, snapped in half, lies next to him. Hugo only smiles, backing out of smacking range with a smug grin.

He whirls around, only just able to dodge a hollering Kai as the man runs forwards. With another well-timed bomb, Kai’s feet end up stuck as well, the man falling forwards with a thump. Andrew shouts again, a series of threats and half formed curses, but Hugo tunes him out, running for where Kai had seemingly dropped a limp Varian into the dirt.

He flips Varian onto his back, tapping lightly at freckled cheeks. “Oh, shit.” Hugo mutters, “Hairstripe? Hey, you in there? Want to maybe wake up?”

The boy groans, and it’s a great sound. Those blue eyes flutter open, fixing on Hugo with a curious expression.

“Who-?” Varian cuts himself off, looking around before settling back on Hugo. “Where… what’s happening?”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Varian?” Hugo asks, desperate, but already getting the sinking feeling in his gut. It only gets worse, a knot forming in Hugo’s throat when the name doesn’t spark any sort of recognition in Varian’s eyes.

“Who is that?”

Hugo’s heart breaks. He grits his teeth, leaning back. They have to move. They have to leave, but… Varian looks at him with such curiosity, not a bit of recognition, and it hurts.

“You are, Sweetcheeks.” Hugo murmurs, “Your name is Varian, you’re from a kingdom called Corona.”

It doesn’t seem to do anything for Varian to know that, but he still nods, sitting up. His eyes land on Andrew, brows scrunching in confusion.

“Who are they?” He asks, looking at the hollering men.

“They’re… bad people.” Hugo replies, “They tried to hurt you. It’s why you can’t remember anything.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. We should get away from them.” Thankfully, Varian goes willingly, taking Hugo’s offered hand and letting the blond pull him to his feet. He leads Varian away from the Saporians, towards the balloon. Varian looks at the mansion with curiosity, tilting his head as they step aboard the wicker basket.

“Something about this place seems familiar.” Varian mumbles. He turns to Hugo, wearing that same expression. “Same with you.”

“We’re friends.” Hugo says. It’s bitter on his tongue, but he says it anyways. “I’m going to take you home-”

Wait.

Wait.

“Wait here!” Hugo suddenly shouts, jumping from the balloon. He doesn’t stop to check if Varian follows the direction, instead sprinting back into the house. It’s like entering a tomb, the dust finally beginning to settle. The house feels hollow, strange.

But the helmet is still there.

Hugo scoops it up with deft hands, spinning on his heel and running back to the balloon. Varian’s still there, looking towards the house with a confused expression.

“Here!” Hugo shoves the helmet at him, gasping for breath after running. “Look at this, what do you think?”

“It’s… nice?” Varian says, arching a brow. “Is it yours?”

“No, it…” Fuck, he’d hoped that would have worked. “I was hoping it would help. It did before.”

The twisting sorrow in Hugo’s gut settles into a tight knot. Varian- the Varian Hugo knows and lo… likes very much- is probably gone. Who knows if he’d ever get his memories back? Tears prick at Hugo’s eyes, burning and hot. He’s not going to cry, damn it, but he’s coming close.

“Hugo, c’mon.” Varian sighs, “I already told you I don’t remember anything.”

Wait.

“Say that again.” Hugo demands, grabbing Varian by the shoulders. The younger boy pouts, shoving at him, but complies.

“I said,” His face twists into a little frown, “I don’t remember anything.”

“No, I- I never told you my name.” And he hadn’t. Which meant…

“I. No, you didn’t.” Varian pauses, thinking hard. “But I know you from somewhere. You’re Hugo.”

The blond smiles, the tears threatening to spill over. “And you’re Varian.” He says, like a mantra.

“You… you burned the pasta.” Oh. Oh shit- “And we had sandwiches.”

“Yes!” Hugo crows, “Yes, exactly! Keep going, goggles!”

“And then we listened to music, and I broke Andrew’s seal because-” Varian pauses, looking up at Hugo and blushing. The blond stops smiling, furrowing his brow.

“Because why?” He asks, confused as Varian leans forwards.

“Because I really like you.” Varian says firmly, “As more than a friend.”

Hugo can barely compute that statement before Varian leans close and seals their lips together in a soft kiss. It’s like a smoldering fire, lax and lazy like they have all the time in the world. It’s good, a kiss that’s delicate and would be easy to pull away from.

Hugo doesn’t.

It takes them a few days to get to Corona.

The rest of Varian’s memories came back in small spurts, flashes here or there as the effects of gaining, losing, and regaining the memories slowly took their course. It’s easy, though, the two of them piloting the hot air balloon towards Varian’s home. Calm. Quiet. Simple. Varian hangs off of Hugo like a limpet a lot of the time, insisting that it’s that he doesn’t trust Hugo not to crash, though the blond would call bullshit- he’s a better pilot that Varian is, when you get down to it.

The city looms before them, glittering and bright. Varian maneuvers the balloon down to the courtyard of the castle, avoiding the towers with prescience movements. Hugo can’t help but feel a pinch of dread as he does so, clinging to the basket and looking down as a group of people stare up at them.

“Well, they’ll definitely know we’re here.” He mutters, sinking down into the basket with a grimace. Varian only laughs, setting them down properly onto the cobblestone of the courtyard and switching the balloon off.

“It’ll be okay.” He says, “Rapunzel’ll already be freaking out, I’m sure.”

Lo and behold, a blur of purple sprints from the castle not a minute later. “Varian!” The woman screams, bowling the boy over in a frantic hug. “Ohmigosh you came home! Where were you, we looked everywhere, Andrew-”

Varian opens his mouth, tries to speak. Sobs. Clings to his sister just as tightly as she hugs him. The tears run thick down both their cheeks, the two of them clinging tightly together, rocking back and forth as they cry.

“It was Andrew,” Varian finally spits out between the tears. “He had me in a mansion on the border, an old outpost-”

“He’s dead when I find him.” Rapunzel hisses, “I hope he enjoys a face full of frying pan-”

Varian laughs wetly, finally stepping back from his sister. “Hugo saved me.” He says, gesturing to the blond, who waves awkwardly. Rapunzel doesn’t seem to care for semantics, letting go of Varian to draw Hugo into a hug of his own.

“Thank you!” She crows. Hugo can’t breathe. “Thank you, thank you! I owe you everything!”

When she backs off, Varian shoulders closer to Hugo with a grin. “I think she likes you.” He whispers, and Hugo can’t help but laugh.

“That’s just because you like me.” He says it with an easy grin, like he’s sure of it. Varian smiles back, leaning up for a small kiss. Hugo meets him halfway, the two of them reveling in each other’s presence.

“I guess I do.” Varian smiles, “If I can remember what your name is.”

“Hardy-har.” Hugo mutters, “I should have left you in that shitty house.”

“But you didn’t.” Varian leans up again, eyes pleading.

“No.” Hugo says, already leaning closer. “I don’t think I could leave you behind after this.” Their lips meet again, the world shrinking down to just the two of them in their own little bubble.

Varian’s smile, when they separate, shines brighter than gold.