Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chronological Chapter Order:

1. Goggles, Flowers & Dynamite (Quirin & Varian's mom)
2. Kindred Spirit (Varian & Ruddiger)
3. The Dark Knight (Eugene & Varian)
4. Shall we get started? (Varian)
5. Treason (Varian & Ruddiger)
6. What was (Varian & Arianna)
7. Reprends tes Esprits (Varian & Arianna) 
8. A Guard's stand (random Guard)
9. Oblivium (Varian & Andrew)
10. A lesson learned (Varian & Andrew)
11. A memory (Varian & Andrew)
12. Lost (Varian & Andrew)
13. The Obvious (Varian & Quirin)
14. The Usual (Varian & Quirin)
15. A king’s justice and a knight’s honor (Quirin & Frederic) 
16. The Expected (Varian & Quirin)
17. The Undeniable (Varian & Quirin)
18. The Wolf Inside us (Varian & Catalina)
19. The Hidden (Varian & Quirin)
20. The Wolf Among us (Varian & Catalina)
21. The Unexpected (Varian & Quirin)
22. The Familiar (Varian & Quirin)
23. What if (Varian & Arianna)
24. Change in Career (Varian)
25. Puppy Love (Varian & Catalina)
26. A Diamond in the Rough (Varian & Rapunzel & Eugene)
27. The Last Disciple  (Varian & Nigel)
28. Hello Again (Varian & Hugo)
29. Seeing red (Varian & Hugo)
30. We need to talk (Varian & Hugo)
31. A gentle Soul (Varian & Hugo)
32. When all is said and done (Varian & Yong)
33. A queen’s Adviser (Varian & Rapunzel)

Key:

• has to be finished
• multichapter story
• 5 Times Quirin Noticed his Son had Changed and One Time he Didn't

Chapter Text

 
As soon, as Varian opened the door his heart stopped.

The candle between his fingers flickered unsteady. Up and down the flame went, mockingly painting even deeper shadows in the scarcely lit room. Varian barely noticed. His eyes were firmly fixed on the person in front. This was a mistake, he thought with rising panic. He shouldn't have come, never been here in the first place. He should have never... All of a sudden the walls felt too close, creeping up on him, almost suffocating and always cold. He was trapped again and there was no way out. It was too much. Varian wanted to run - to run and hide in the darkest corner of the kingdom. It took every ounce of strength he possessed to step back, hands shaking and knees weak. Still, he wasn't able to look away. Should he say something?

“Who are you?” the King asked.

What? Varian turned his attention towards him. His gaze immediately caught by the golden emblem on his chest.

Somebody moved.

“Oh your majesty, don’t you remember Varian, your most trusted adviser?” Andrew appeared from behind. With a voice smooth as silk, he gently pushed Varian forward.

The King examined the boy.

“Varian,” he tested the name on his tongue. “Uhm, of course, I do,” Frederic replied, dragging the words out as if he himself wasn't so sure.

Varian's eyes returned to Queen Arianna. A frown was on her face as she sized the young alchemist up. Confusion filled her usually calm features. He watched as she desperately tried to remember the answer to a riddle she had long forgotten. Something dark and vicious began to grow inside him. Then he realized. 

“Clementine…” 

Shame and guilt started to form a tight knot in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t look at her anymore.

“Andrew a word please.” 

They excused themselves to talk in private, leaving King and Queen behind.

“What is this all about?” He hardly managed to repress his anger.

“Well, I thought it would be nice to kick off your little passion project,” Andrew grinned. “Didn’t you want a chemical that erases memories? Let's see it as a first step," The Separatist put a heavy hand on Varian's shoulder. "With the King under control, we can get all the materials you need for your experiments. After that comes the rest of Corona. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

He sounded so pleased with himself it made Varian sick.

“Well yes… but-,”

- but not like this. Never like that. He hadn’t thought - hadn’t meant... Varian wasn’t sure. Logically it all made sense. The pieces fit perfectly, but why did it feel so wrong? This was not right.

Andrew raised his brow suspiciously. “But what?” He pressed on while tightening his grip on him.

Just like this, their difference in size and height was painfully brought to the boy’s attention.

“Next time you better inform me beforehand,” Varian continued with ice in his voice. He clenched his fists and stood his ground, but didn’t shove the older man’s hand off. There was no turning back now.

"Sure thing kiddo." His former cell-mate let go and ruffled Varian's hair instead.

Chapter Text

The blue sky was filled with sunshine and it couldn't have been a better day. Varian hummed satisfied. Down in the dark of the royal laboratory chemicals shimmered happily in glowing vials. His latest experiment was a complete success. Proud of his progress he pushed his goggles up and stretched his stiff shoulders. It was time for a break. With a skip in his step he made his way upstairs, maybe a short visit to the kitchen was in order to celebrate. If he was lucky a cupcake or two were still waiting. 

"Congratulation everyone! You all did splendid!" Varian heard Rapunzel’s cheer while passing the throne room. The entrance stood wide open. Curiously he poked his head through the huge doorway. It seemed like some sort of event was in full swing. A small crowd had gathered and the halls were filled with lively chatter.

The princess was about to say something else when their eyes met. Instantly she smiled.

"Varian!" Her voice fell over with excitement. " Come in! You’re right on time." She hopped from a little platform to drag him to her side. Seeing her enthusiasm Varian felt laughter bubbling up.

"What's going on?" He asked bemused.

"This," she pointed with a wide grin to the colorfully decorated podium "Is Coronas first Consulting-Contest!"

Cassandra, Eugene, and Nigel seemed to be the last man standing. Also somehow Shorty had made it into the mix.

"You're lucky, we are just about to start the last round. Wanna join?"

"Uhm, I don't know. I probably shouldn't …" Varian sounded a tad conflicted.

"C’mon! It's gonna be fun," she insisted eagerly. A thought flashed up in her head and her eyes were shining mischievously. "It's like a riddle."

The alchemist's interest was peaked.

"Well, I suppose I have a little time to spare," he winked, well aware of what she was doing. But he couldn't say no to her anyway. Infected by the princess’s high spirit the corners of his mouth rose and he let her pull him on stage.

Eugene and Cassie didn't seem to mind and Shorty was blissfully toying with his fingers.

"Not fair," Angry and Lance simultaneously complained. Both didn’t make the final cut and were reduced to simple onlookers. However, there was no heat behind their words. Just for the heck of it, Varian stuck his tongue out. At least now nobody would win. 

In the sea of people, he saw Catalina waving her hand in greeting. He smiled in return and she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

"And here he gets special treatment yet again. Who would have thought?" Nigel remarked icy, crossing his arms displeased over his chest.

Rapunzel rolled her eyes in annoyance. There was nothing new with Nigel giving Varian a hard time. He never really overcame the resentment he harbored for the young man. Albeit lately his passive-aggressive attitude got significantly worse.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Whispers say the winner is gonna be the next royal adviser. So all his feathers are pretty much ruffled to the max," Eugene semi-helpfully explained.

"If it's -," Varian started.

"Guys, guys, calm down!” Rapunzel interrupted. “Varian had work to do earlier so he couldn't be here. No more delays, lets begin! Here comes the last question." 

She felt the weight of Varian's attention resting on her. He watched her every move, analyzed every word. It was like a switch had been flipped and now he was on. 

"So, uhm, hypothetically..."

"Hypothetically?" Varian raised an eyebrow, but Rapunzel was not to be deterred.

"Purely hypothetically, there is a kingdom - not Corona! - and rumor has it, the neighboring kingdom is about to attack. The enemy has an army of, uhm, 3000 men, the kingdoms own is 5000 strong. There are 2 possible points the invasion could land. What's your advice in this situation?" She asked the tiny group.

"Attack," Cass answered impulsively.

Nigel sighed like he had to deal with a particularly slow kid. "Split your army to guard the 2 entries."

"Maybe just talk it out?" Eugene offered.

A loud snore came from the corner. Shorty had fallen asleep, thumb in his mouth, and blissfully ignorant to his surroundings.

Rapunzel looked expectant at Variant.

"It's quite the loaded question," he laughed at her none existing poker-face. "May I have some time to think about it?"

"Lives are at stake. Every minute counts," the future queen urged.

"Even more reason not to blindly rush into it." Varian kept his cool.

Rapunzel thought a moment about his request before her lips curved upwards. 

"Very well."

"Your highness, you can't be serious he -"

"Enough Nigel! It's getting rather late anyway. Let's meet up tomorrow for Consulting-Contest part 2."

Chapter Text

The team was back on stage, however this time it felt more private. 

“What’s your verdict, Varian?” The future Queen of Corona demanded beneath a mask of delight and curiosity. Obviously she was more than interested in what the alchemist had to say. 

“All above, this was nothing like a riddle,” Varian cleared his throat. “Anyway, I have to agree with Eugene. Communication would also be my choice of action.”

“Well that was anticlimactic,” Cassandra muttered.

Though, Varian wasn’t finished yet. “A kingdom usually has more than one neighbor. So an outright war would most likely aggravate the others and possibly force their hands towards, uhm, more radical measures - aka not an option. Splitting the army is equally stupid.” He gracefully ignored the miffed huff to his left. ”It unnecessarily reduces its strength and when push comes to shove the numbers would not be favorable. Besides, what greater offense than soldiers camping at your borders is there? You’re basically asking for trouble.” 

“Buzz-kill,” it snickered in the audience. 

“Best course of action is to check if there is anything to the rumor in the first place. Go visit them, do politics, maybe even become friends.” Subtle he nodded at Rapunzel, fully knowing that she would like nothing better than to get chummy with basically the whole world if it were up to her. “Most importantly, make them feel safe. Boost their confidence. Let them be a part of the kingdom. People often fear what they don’t understand. You could include them in the economy. A little leeway with the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade might be in order.” 

Rapunzel smiled proudly at the pacifistic approach Varian provided.

“Leaving the borders unprotected means the nearby villagers will be slaughtered when they attack,” Nigel made his point.

“If they attack. A big army marches slow and word travels fast. We could meet them halfway and give order to evacuate if necessary.”

“We are talking about 100s of innocent lives lost before we’d even notice.”

“And if you provoke a war it will be way above 1000s.” Varian sighed. “Listen, I am not asking to sacrifice anyone like lambs brought to the slaughter. Just be honest with your people. Tell them about the rumor and that you’re working on a peaceful solution, so the villagers can make an informed choice to stay or leave.”

Nigel glared at the young alchemist, but Varian wasn’t backing down. The air was so thick it scratched unsettlingly at the silence. Both had said their piece, still, something was brewing between them. 

“Ergo I win!” Eugene intervened loudly with a butt-load of boisterous charm and a huge fake grin on his face. 

Varian rolled his eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood and the world returned to normal.
 
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The sun was setting when she heard a soft knock on the door of her chambers.

“Your highness.” 

“Nigel?” Rapunzel was confused to see him but nevertheless invited the man in. 

“Is everything all right?” He looked tense and rather upset. 

“Please listen, I must insist not to put your trust into the likes of him,” he started without a warning. “As Queen of Corona, it is your duty to protect your subjects.” 

“Huh?”

“Don’t you see? You let him already weasel his way back into the castle, don’t allow him inside your head too.”

“Are you talking about Varian?” She asked in disbelief. 

“He is dangerous! Dangerous and selfish. He fools with magic far beyond his comprehension.”

“Alchemy,” Rapunzel corrected him automatically while trying to process what in the world was going on. Where was this coming from? 

“Who knows what he is scheming? The kingdom could be -,”

“This is absurd.” As soon as she got the gist of it, the princess tried to interrupt the paranoid rant. “Varian has proven himself time and time again.”

“With all due respect, he is as sly and cunning as they come. He manipulates you. Everyone, in fact.” 

“Stop, this isn’t…,” still ambushed by Nigel’s outburst her words lacked their usual confidence, sounding weak even to her own ears.  

“He twists and turns reality just how it suits him. Make any excuse you want, but don’t you dare think he does anything out of the goodness of his heart,” he carried on with his tantrum. “For him, there is always something to gain, always something he’s after. The needs of Corona will never come before his own.“

Liar! A part of her snarled defensive. Her own anger started to rise. Rapunzel did not take kindly to people who talked bad about her friends. 

“Don’t be fooled your highness, there is more to his words than meets the eye.” Nigel’s voice ebbed out with a desperation and sadness Rapunzel hadn’t expected. Suddenly she could see the years wearing down on her mother's most trusted adviser. 

The princess took a deep breath. Silently she prayed for lots of patience as she reminded herself over and over that his words came from a place of deep love and care for his country.

She had to handle the situation like a ruler - with respect and kindness, but firm when it mattered. 

“It’s okay Nigel, please calm down,” Rapunzel put her hands on his shoulders to ground him and offer the stability he temporarily struggled to find. Capturing his gaze with her own, she lowered her voice. “I do hear you. And I will take your words into consideration. But I also need you to trust my decisions. Do you understand?”   

Slowly it dawned on Nigel what he had done and how out of line he’d behaved around the future Queen of all people. This wasn’t like him. He looked slightly abashed. “I am sorry, your highness. Yes. I didn’t mean to…”  

He was about to retreat, Rapunzel could tell, but this wasn’t quite over. “Nigel, you can always come to me with anything,” She prominently paused, a chance for him to speak up again. When nothing followed she added, “And thank you for sharing your thoughts.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave her a court nod before the door finally closed behind him. 

Rapunzel sighed. Her mind begun to wander. Did she miss something? Initially, she wanted to dismiss Nigel’s worries but Varian had also another side she couldn’t quite deny. Doubts filled her and there was only one answer. 

Chapter Text

At last, the soft and fading light crossed the west-horizon. The night began. Long gone was the sun and the moon claimed its rightful place on heaven's throne. High above between a million sparkling stars the silver crescent smiled mysteriously. 

Walking along gentle shadows, Rapunzel continued her way down the lonely staircase. Step by step it took her further into the dim cellar. The air felt moist and stiff, not disturbed in centuries - which was absurd because Varian was a constant resident. Maybe by now, he had become part of the hidden tunnels and chambers just like the velvet darkness surrounding her. 

A green glow framed the ancient entrance. Swallowing the tight lump in her throat, she didn’t hesitate and opened its wings. Rapunzel wanted answers. Defeat was not an option.
 
The cracking of wood and the careful sounds of fabric shifting were the only indicator of her arrival. As expected Varian was still lost in his current obsession. 

Ruddiger raised his head at the intruder but otherwise didn’t budge from the worn purple pillow he had declared his own. Reassured by the steady rhythm of Varian’s metallic lullaby, he yawned and returned to the lands of dreams and slumber. The young engineer was completely in his element, and the content and relaxed atmosphere gradually lulled her in as well. Not willing to disturb the peace just yet, she watched on as Varian tinkered with his invention. The scene was surprisingly soothing for her tense nerves. There was something honest, almost childlike about him with his focus solemnly reserved for the machinery in front of him. His clever fingers never wavered, never stopped the effortless dance of handling the fragile instruments, both with care and confidence. She held her breath, afraid to break the spell, and the alchemist simply continued tuning the screws until she was ready to talk. He could wait.    

“Still busy with the fire detector thingy?” Rapunzel chose a safe topic to start. It was a rather neat idea of him, considering that one of his chemical solutions had almost burned down the castle last week. Nobody had been hurt and she didn’t think it was that big of a deal. After all, where wood is chopped, splinters fall, but Varian took it extremely personal. 

“Um actually, it detects smoke not fire,” he replied without missing a beat. 

His back was still facing her. Not in the slightest concerned about the future Queen’s late-night-visit, he kept his gaze glued to the task at hand.

“Ah… How does it work?”  

Rapunzel was stalling - the two of them were well aware, though, Varian didn’t seem to mind. Happily, he rambled about the finer details of the device, getting wrapped up into the aspects of its inner workings and so on. 

“Why?” She finally asked.

Varian raised a brow, implying that she had to be a tad more specific.  

“There was more to your answer wasn’t it?” She folded her arms. 

Varian smirked sheepishly as he caught up to her train of thoughts. “Well, some very interesting minerals are locked up behind those borders. If the trade-agreements were to be loosened I would have had a lot more toys to play with.”  

In thick waves, disappointment radiated from the princess. Was she really trying to guilt-trip him over something as trivial as this? 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Slightly annoyed the alchemist sighed. He put his tools down and turned around. “Your highness, good advice always comes at a cost and my motives don’t make my reasoning any less true.”
 
He got to be kidding. “It doesn’t make it less true,” she agreed. “But that doesn't mean it makes it right either. Varian I can’t - I don’t wanna wonder what’s in it for you whenever we talk. Aren’t we past this?” Rapunzel countered unsatisfied. “If you needed more resources you could have told me.” The princess looked sad and angry at the same time.  

“I don’t need anything from you,“ he snapped irritated. Crap, this sounded harsher than intended. Great now Varian did feel guilty. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I have everything I could ask for. It just seemed like a good opportunity, that’s all.” His stomach squirmed. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I am sorry. If I require help I will come to you. Always.” 

“I believe you,” she said with her eyes kept on the ground.

Varian studied her closely before speaking again. “Rapunzel,” he called gently, and to his relief, she did raise her gaze at the mention of her name. “Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer… even though sometimes we wish we didn’t. Why are you here?”

Silence filled the air, as his words spun and swirled around her. She paused to let their meaning sink in. Why was she truly here? It pulled and bit at her conscience and she thought about the worries that had steered her into his direction. Slowly it dawned on her.  

“We don’t fit,” she whispered in a devastating realization. “Nigel and I.”  

Varian snorted. “Tell me about it. He is still grumpy with me because I enslaved the kingdom. Legitimately not my finest moment but I mean come on, I was what 15? And I only did it once. Just get over it!”

Raps snickered at how ridiculous it all still sounded even after this many years. 

“It’s just, neither father nor mother ever had problems with this kind of stuff… reigning, royal-decision-making…it shouldn’t be so hard.” 

She could still remember how all of her previous ordeals had ended in a complete and utter disaster and even though she got better she was far from ready. “Soon I will be responsible for a whole country. I have to pick the right person for the position of adviser or else - ” 

“Why?” 

Now it was her turn to be confused. 

“Why what?” 

“Why only chose one?” Varian chuckled at her baffled expression. “If you are so torn about it why not elect a council? Certainly, it fits with your style of running the Kingdom,” he shrugged. “Wisdom recognizes many truths, and it never hurts to take a page or two from different kinds of books.” An early lesson he had not only learned from Xavier, but was also reaffirmed by his own journey. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. Keep your options open. Who knows… Dare I say it might even be fun having some friends around during those dire meetings of yours.” He waggled his eyebrows and looked nothing short of ridiculous. 

Rapunzel was a little overwhelmed. At times she was truly blind. She already had everything she ever needed. Why hadn’t she thought of it? A big smile emerged on her face as she imagined the wide array of new possibilities. What a wonderful idea! 

“Varian, you are a genius!!!” Without a second thought, she rushed towards him, embracing her friend in a giant bear-hug.  

“So, I guess you’ll consider...,” he exhaled as the oxygen was pressed out of his lungs. Oh man, how was the woman this strong?

”You know you do make a pretty good adviser even if you sound like a fortune cookie at times,” the princess gushed. 

“Oi!” Varian pouted. Her compliment made him smile nonetheless. “Alchemy comes first,” he replied easily, feeling the déjà vu ripple through him. 

“Why only chose one?” Rapunzel grinned like a Cheshire cat, fully recovered to her usual energetic, happy go lucky self. 

“Touche.” For the first time that day, Varian laughed genuinely and she just had to ruffle his hair.

The alchemist turned to continue his work and for a brief moment, Rapunzel thought that this was it, she had finally gotten the last word. In between the chaos of notes he searched for something else on his workbench. Ready to move on she was about to leave the royal laboratory behind when Varian’s voice suddenly chimed up. 

“So how is Edmund doing?”

At the seemingly innocent question, Rapunzel stopped dead in her track, shock written all over her face. “How did you-”

“That part is quite simple. For you see I am not an idiot. Obviously, you put this whole charade together because you wanted Eugene's opinion on a matter you couldn’t ask him directly - at least not without him worrying,” the young inventor cut in. “He only has one touchy subject.”

“Right, obviously,” the princess repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. Sometimes Varian was way too smart for his own good, Rapunzel thought.  

“If you put one and one together it’s rather easy.” 

Well, now he was just showing off. 

“Besides your description fit perfectly.” 

“Um, yeah, there had been trouble in the dark kingdom. And I do feel bad for intentionally hiding the truth from him,” she confessed while regaining her composure.

“You should - it means you’re clearly doing something wrong.” The pot called the kettle black. 

There was a concerning casualness in his tone and she wondered if he was able to see past his own double-standards. After another second he teased sheepishly, “Also, you suck at lying.” 

“Gee. Thanks,” Rapunzel grumbled. Not everyone could have it down to a T like him. Well, two could play that game! As his self-proclaimed big sister, she had to even the score. After all, it was her honorable duty to mess with him. Time for some good-intentioned revenge and a not so subtle change of topic.  

“Now, you and Catalina…?” She asked sweetly. Her smile only stifled by sheer force of will, but the smug spark in her eyes betrayed her as usual. Of course, she’d noticed the alchemist’s greatest weakness - gray fluffy animals.
 
Varian nearly dropped his screwdriver. “What?” He felt his face heat up as he glared at her and desperately hoped it wasn’t turning red. It couldn’t have been that apparent? Shaking his head in disbelieve he fumbled with his words. “We’re not! We… she… uhm.” 

The princess just laughed as the supposedly greatest mind of the century failed to form coherent sentences. 

Struggling to recover his cool, he playfully shot back, “Oh, low blow Punzy. You truly are your mother's daughter.”

Rapunzel wasn’t sure if it was an insult or a compliment, but his voice was filled with fondness so she continued laughing.

Chapter Text

“You are not my father!!!” Catalina yelled and stormed out of the room. 

“Wait, he didn’t mean to-” Kiera tried, but her sister was having none of it. Torn between running after her and comforting Lance she ultimately decided to stay behind. It was probably for the best.

“Well that escalated quickly,” she said with a forced lightheartedness that hung awkwardly between them. 

Kiera turned towards the older man. Lance sat on her bed, his head hung low and his hands covered his face. With his usual rambunctious spirit gone he seemed much smaller. He looked sad and it made her sad.
 
“Don’t worry, she just needs to blow off some steam,” Angry placed herself next to him. Not sure how to cheer him up she continued, “She’ll come around.” With a violent bang the front door slammed shut, punctuating her statement in the single worst way possible. “Eventually.”

Lance shook his head but took Kiera’s words for what they were. He wasn’t their father, maybe that was the problem. 

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“How dare!!!” Catalina growled, rubbing her angry tears away. 

Without looking back she stepped into the night and let the monster inside her awake. Up high moonlight illuminated the purple midsummer sky. The werewolf began to howl before trashing through the thick forest.

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The dawn of a new day chased the shadows away, but her foul mood still lingered. Back in her human form, Catalina glared at the bright sun and the perfect blue sky. Why couldn’t the weather be a little more considerate? 

Suddenly the hair on her neck stood up and her muscles tensed. She wasn’t alone anymore. The leaves were rustling, boots dragged over dirt, heavy breathing, and then… Varian?  

She blinked in surprise. The alchemist seemed so out of place between the green plants of the forest and well nature in general. It felt strange to see him here in the open.

"Did Lance send you?" She inquired suspiciously, when he recognized her.

"What?"

"Or Angry?"

"Uhm, no."

"Come to think of it, you’re one of the princess lackeys. Don’t tell me she -," 

Before the girl could finish her accusation Varian interrupted her slightly offended. "First of all rude, I'm my own man."

"Really?" Catalina teasingly raised a brow to which Varian only rolled his eyes.

"Mostly. Second, hello to you too. And third, I am here for this." He disappeared into a stand of trees and she had to follow him. In one dramatic reveal, he pulled a large branch aside. 

"Isn’t it beautiful? It’s the last of its kind," he sounded like a lovesick puppy, gushing over his precious - 

"It's a rock.” Catalina deadpanned. The tiny boulder did not impress. “And it stinks."

"Well, yes, but not any rock. It’s a super rare mineral, which took me ages to find and - wait you can smell it?"

"What does it do?" She changed the topic, not liking the focus on her more or less feral side. Did he even know what she truly was?

"It glows in the dark an- "

"Does it explode?" Catalina interrupted. Things finally started to get interesting.

"Also yes, however not the point," dismissively he waved his hand. "I can make basically anything explode." 

He kneeled down and slowly started to unpack diverse tools from his backpack. “It has some very unique properties contributing to gravity.”

“So, you wanna make things …floaty?” She asked confused.
 
Varian looked up and grinned. “That would be awesome!!!” Enthusiasm radiating in every syllable. 

For a split second Catalina wondered why an alchemist would need his stuff soaring in midair and instantly a montage of Varian accidentally dropping all sorts of chemicals on the ground flashed up in her mind.  

“But no,” he continued a bit more somber. “I am gonna blow it up.”

There was a longing in his eyes that betrayed the sheepish smile on his lips. Personally she thought explosions were a much more fun idea.

“Can’t you do both?”

“Nah, sadly I’ll need all of it.”  Varian had turned to break up the mystery-rock into more manageable pieces. 

Catalina was still watching. She didn’t feel like leaving just yet, though she wasn’t sure what else to say either.

Varian took mercy on her when he sensed her still hovering around. “So, um, daddy-issues I assume.”
 
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Its nothing,” the girl growled defensive, but couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. “You just gonna laugh… it’s stupid.”  

“Try me.” 

Catalina was a little taken aback by the honest determination directed at her, maybe even a bit amazed. She smiled at his challenge. “Whatever,” she might as well get it off her chest. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Talking to Varian was surprisingly easy. 

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“…and then he ate my cupcake. It was my cupcake and he didn’t even apologize!” She went on. 

Varian had listened quietly to her drama.

“You think it's silly, don’t you?”

For a moment he didn’t know what to say and wasn’t that a rare sight. Gathering his thoughts he concluded, “Well, he should have. Apologized I mean.” His task was finished and it was time to pack up. “Oh, don’t get me wrong I think it's ridiculous.”

Catalina glared at him. 

“But,” he stretched the word as long as he could, “It clearly means a lot to you. So yeah.” Fiddling with the last of the stones he continued, “Sometimes it’s hard not to be heard… frustrating when you feel like nobody is listening.”

Catalina watched him shouldering his backpack with the heavy weight pressing down on him. He was ready to head home to old Corona and she hesitated. 

“There is another one.”

Varian looked confused. 

She rolled her eyes in annoyance and sighed, “Another of your rocks, or minerals, or whatever. There is another one in the forest. It stinks up the whole place.”

Varian’s face lit up in childish joy. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“Follow me.” Her heart was beating faster at the smell of adventure.

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5 minutes later they were dangling off from a cliff.

“How? How is it even possible to be that clumsy?” Catalina yelled, clinging to Varian’s chest for dear life. “Were you born that way or did you practice?”

“Let's call it a character-flaw and move on!” His hands desperately clawed at the edge. They were so gonna die.

“Do you trust me?” She suddenly asked with adrenaline pumping in her veins and a wide grin spreading on her face. She must have looked beyond crazy, but it didn’t matter. Wind rushed through her hair, while she could already feel the wolf pulling and pushing inside her.

“Wha-” Varian closed his mouth. “You have a plan?”

Catalina nodded, before saying, “Let go!”

And he did. 

Chapter Text

Slowly the candle on the table burnt down. There wasn’t a sound in the house, save for the occasional scribble of Varian’s inked feather quill and the ticking of the old grandfather clock marking the seconds. Through the eerie shadows, his son looked fragile and pale. Each stiff and mechanic movement made him seem more and more like a broken wind-up toy in Quirin’s mind. 

No-one had spoken for quite some time - what was there even to say? The older man’s mouth felt dry. He should be grateful. Between silence and screams, this was the lesser evil. But Quirin was not. 

The way Varian used to be was all in the past. There hadn’t been any explosions for an awfully long time, no fire or chemicals hissing at another either. Nothing. The thought sat there, like an angry engine propelling him towards action and he didn’t had the slightest clue of what to do.

Encased within the walls of his own home, he paced back and forth, unable to keep himself busy with the mundanity of life in general. As he passed the child, their gaze met and Varian’s lips stretched into something that could have been a smile. It was a decent effort, enough to fool the casual onlooker. Quirin knew better. There was no light in Varian's eyes and they moved with an alertness that came from massive stress. His hands clenched subconsciously. The atmosphere was so brittle it could crack anytime. If it didn't, he might. Of course, it was hard on both of them, but still this wasn’t fair. 

Suddenly, it was too much. Quirin needed space, needed air. Only a short break from sorrow and tears. Just for a little while. A couple of hours wouldn’t hurt. That's all he required. He’ll be right back. What was the worst that could happen?

Varian didn’t ask where he was going, yet Quirin could sense his attention on him as he closed the door. As soon as the cold wind washed over him, he drew in a deep breath and exhaled. The sky was empty, no moon, no stars. With every step it took him further into the darkness.

It wasn’t long before his feet brought him to a familiar sight, the Snuggly Duckling. Warmth gleamed through the windows and he could hear lively music from inside. Quirin hesitated. He shouldn’t or should he? The early hours of the evening had already passed, but it wasn’t exactly late either and the thought of some ale was a rather tempting one. Screw it. He opened the door to dance and laughter and entered the fray. In the middle stood the princess of Corona, beaming with joy and shining vivid as the sun itself. To be honest it was a little overwhelming.  

“Quirin!!!” A voice called for him and oh no.

“Your Majesty,” he greeted strained.  

“Not tonight I am not. Tonight I am Fred!” He declared with a big toothy grin and a potential life-lesson learned prior that day. “Simply Fred. No King. No worries. Just for once.” Slinging an arm over his shoulder he leaned heavily against the former knight. “Come sit down, old friend.“ 

Frederic apparently had his fair share of booze already, however his good mood was contagious and who was Quirin to deny. “At your command.” 

The king ordered another round. Their mugs bumped together and Quirin was sure he was going to regret it. 

As time went on he had to admit that this was actually quite nice. A pleasant heat had settled in his bones and the old pub was gradually calming down. Nursing the beer in his hand he observed Rapunzel and her future fiance. They had fallen back into a corner and were chatting and joking and kissing? Amused, Quirin lifted a brow at the whistles and howls it earned from the regular bar-thugs, cheering them on in good fun.   

“They’re growing up so fast,” Frederic said ruefully as he followed his eyes.  

“Yeah,” Quirin replied tense, thinking about all the ways Varian had grown. “Sometimes you can barely recognize them anymore.” He was trying very hard to keep the resentment out of his voice but was sure he failed miserably.

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At some point the usual pair of the royal guards strolled over, probably to look after their half-drunken king. Fully equipped with helmets and polished breastplates, he could see how from a different angle they might came across as a tad threatening. 

Pete cleared his throat awkwardly before he spoke and after the average amount of polite small talk he finally plucked up the courage to ask, “How is he doing?” His eyes were firmly fixed on his drink.

Quirin frowned. It didn’t take much to figure out what Pete was talking about, but he was still surprised that one of the kingdom’s finest defenders would check on Varian’s well being.

“The nights are kinda rough,” he answered cautiously. 

Well, that was the world's biggest understatement. 

Frederic felt a bit out of the loop, although, he was slowly catching on. “Does Varian have nightmares?” 

“Nightmares?” Pete laughed bitter. “Try night terrors.” He emptied the rest of his ale in one big gulp. 

“Whatever you do, don’t wake him up,” Stan advised while shuddering at a memory of his own. 

Quirin’s stomach twisted, but Pete just nodded in agreement. “At least he doesn’t remember them.”

What a small comfort. Was this supposed to make it right?

“It will get better,” he remarked louder than anticipated. It had to. The thought of Varian either scared to death of closing his eyes, or screaming his lungs out if he did dare, was a sobering one and he really preferred to change the topic now. Quirin didn’t want to talk about the child he’d left behind, the child they abandoned, his child. 

“Next round is on me,” Stan announced taking the edge off of the conversation. 

He raised his mug and after this, details got a little fuzzy. 

Chapter Text

Except for a couple of minor hiccups here and there, it was a relatively decent evening. Most people had already left the cozy haven of the Snuggly Duckling. Now the pub was almost empty, even the guards had bid themselves goodbye.   

Unlike them, Quirin dreaded to go back the lonesome road he came from, not sure what would await him once he finished. It was painful to accept, but he couldn’t do anything for his boy, no matter how much he wished otherwise. He’d experienced first hand that love alone wasn’t a magic potion that could fix everything, and he just didn’t know how to handle those soundless calls for help any longer. So he hid. He hid behind his responsibilities as village leader, hid in run-down taverns in the middle of the night, hid with sweet lies and promises of a brighter morrow. Quirin couldn’t hide forever. In the end, he was only delaying the inevitable, whatever that may be.    

He sighed and shook his head. This was getting way too melodramatic. Irritated he pushed his mug away. Varian was fine. Everything was fine. Course it wasn’t how it used to be. How could it? But he got this. No problem. He got this. 

Sneaking a glimpse to his left, Frederic also appeared kinda gloomy. He grimaced at the thought of having to cheer him up, however, he guessed he owned his former friend for tonight.

“I never did say sorry on behalf of my son,” he interrupted the quiet. It was simpler to talk about this in the safety of the late hours, far away and without an audience. 

“Neither did he,” Fred muttered. 

“Well, he can be pretty stubborn.” His skin started to crawl at the dismissive comment and something protective rumbled inside the soldier.

“Amen to that.” The other man laughed. Fred’s mind had wandered to the two strong-willed women in his own life. Arianna and his daughter were quite a hand full at times. 

“But I think he’s sorry and so am I.” Quirin gritted his teeth. He was really trying here. 

“Ahh,” Frederic breathed into his drink not certain what to do with that information. 

Did he even care, Quirin wondered. “You know,” slowly the leader of old Corona continued, “I was searching for the documents of Varian’s trial. Couldn’t find them in the archive. You wouldn’t know?” 

The King hummed absentminded. What an odd question to ask. “He didn’t go to court,” he replied as if this wasn’t a big deal, as if it meant nothing.

Frederic was playing a dangerous game. In a less drunken state, it would have been an ease for him to pinpoint the exact moment in which the mood shifted and the world was about to burn. Too bad he wasn’t.

“He never had a trial,” Quirin echoed stunned. With full force the reality of those words came crashing down and it broke the cracks in him wide open - broke his trust and his heart. Varian never had a chance… never had a chance to properly explain, no chance to defend himself. This piece of shit just locked him away, leaving his son to rot! After all these years, all he had done for him, all they’d been through - something snapped. 

“You bastard. You couldn't even bother to give him a fucking trial!” He roared in a voice of thunder. A scorching rage consumed his body. It was like a volcano finally erupting. Fury swept Quirin of his feet. The screeching of his chair clung around them and before he knew it he was on him, punching the King square in the jaw. Damn, did it feel good. Quirin always considered himself as a fairly level headed person. Turned out he was wrong. He didn’t count how many times his fist collided with the face below, couldn’t recall how they ended on the floor or how he got his black eye, only remembered the blazing satisfaction of self-righteous anger ultimately finding release. Maybe it was wrong to put it all on Frederick like that, well boohoo.

“Oh come on, what was there to judge?” The king struggled to get up. 

Quirin stared at him in disbelieve. “Bullshit,” he barked. Yes, Varian was guilty, but for Christ's sake, it was the bare minimum he could’ve done. Contemplating to kick a man on the ground, he gave in. 

“What do you want to hear from me?” Frederic coughed.   

None of them were perfect, but every time the other opened his mouth he just got angrier and angrier, only adding fuel to the fire.

“You fucking bastard!” Quirin repeated powerless and yanked him up by the collar. Gritty and raw he shouted, “HE WAS JUST A CHILD!!!” Emotions bled into every word. 

Frederic averted his gaze. He couldn’t even look him in the eyes. 

Cold disgust suffocated the blistering flame within him. It ran through his veins, leaving him hollow and numb. He had enough. Dropping the king back in the dirt, he pulled away and turned towards the door.

 As Quirin stumbled out into the twilight of the silent forest he wiped the blood from his knuckles. It was a twilight unaware of the struggles it both soothed and concealed. 

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“Well that was awkward ‘Fred’,” Shorty snickered with a cocky smirk on his face. He had watched the quarrel from a safe distance. All it earned him was a glare fit for a king.

Chapter Text

A door unlocked and Varian took his first step into the young evening. With his breath held, he kept quiet. Only the steady buzzing of mosquitoes and the gentle chirping of hidden crickets reached his ears. For a couple of seconds, he waited. When nothing happened, the alchemist relaxed. At least for now, the night was on his side. 

It was a foolish thought, but he almost expected someone to leap out from behind, to stop him in his pursuit. 24/7 he was under surveillance. There were eyes constantly watching. Halfway between pity and concern, they monitored his every move. Always cautious, always ready for him to fail… again. It started to get the better of him. The longer he walked in darkness, Varian found himself warier of the things that awaited him in the light. Had it been a mistake to trade the gray walls of his prison for chains that were so short they made him trip at nearly every turn? Probably not, however it wasn’t easy to advance forward like this - not impossible just incredibly taxing. 

Above the full moon lit his way, while stars danced around them. Wistfully he looked up as his broken wings dreamed of the sky. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. Still, he knew where to go. 

Gripping the straps of his backpack tighter, he marched on. A hastily scribbled note and a sleeping raccoon were all he left behind. 

“Here goes nothing.” 

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“You just have to do it. I know you can.” 

It sounded so nice. 

“Catalina please, you’re not alone.”

She was almost able to believe them. 

“We’ll figure this out. Together.” 

But then again, she couldn’t, or rather she didn’t want to. The truth was she wasn’t human anymore. A thought that scared and excited her in equal measure.

Against the backdrop of an inky firmament, two eyes opened, and she followed the call.

It was dangerous. Catalina knew she should stop. The line was terrible thin, and she was playing on the edge. However, the thrill of the hunt was too alluring. Lately, it got harder and harder not to give in. She liked the beast, but oh did she love the wolf - it was something different. Deeper. Stronger. 

Her heart drummed deafening against her chest. When she slips, she will not be able to come back. The longer she did it the lesser control she had. But who could blame her? It was useless to resist. Following her urges - her greatest desires, felt so good. All she had to do was let it happen. 

The wind was hollering her name, and in a blink of an eye, the forest belonged to her, a Queen, unlike any other. The world became a blur of color and motion and she was one with all. Endless miles of wood vanished beneath her paws and with them her fears and insecurities as well. Forgotten were her sister’s worried face and Lance distant warnings. It didn’t matter, another memory without meaning. 

Slowly she started to lose herself, fully indulging in the illusion of freedom.

She could run like this for days or weeks, night after night, for forever. Maybe she already did. In the morning, as soon as the day breaks, she’ll return. After all, it was not the sun she sought. 

But was it truly enough? Spooking the neighborhood’s sheep only fed the hunger inside her. She wanted - needed more. 

Hot anger fueled her stride while she blindly rampaged through the dark. In a brief moment of lucidity, she wondered what she was running after. What was she chasing? A painful howl ripped itself from her throat and her head began to spin as another wave of vicious instincts came crashing down. Drunken with power, she couldn’t decide if she was flying or falling. 

She inhaled deeply and her mouth watered at a familiar scent she picked up. She licked her lips. There was blood in the air. Mindlessly she tracked its trail, thinking that soon it would be splattered all over her as well. A chill went down her spine. It would be her first kill. There was no salvation on the path she was on. 

Light fled her eyes as her pupils dilated. She bared her fangs. On her tongue, she could already taste a hint of iron, imaging her teeth tearing through flesh as she claimed her victim, the struggle of survival, and the ultimate victory. Death. 

Her pace increased even though it got more and more difficult to navigate. Patches of fog and mist were hindering her, but she was so close. And then she was there, not knowing where. 

She froze, not sure what she had found. It was neither prey nor predator. Her endless search had taken her to the moon.

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“The wolf,” a voice exhaled.

Chapter Text

A steady stream of blood rippled through the motionless waters, weaving and winding itself seamlessly between celestial bodies. Soft and sweet it caressed the opal of the night until they became one again. The pond’s shimmering surface had turned into a mirror, reflecting heavens forgotten secrets, while remaining a silent specter. 

Catalina caught her breath. The person sitting at its edge looked like the moon.   

Illuminated by a serene glow his skin shone otherworldly. Stardust sprinkled across his delicate cheekbones and a velvet curtain of black framed his fine features. Back and forth it went, swaying the crescent streak of silver-blue in an eternal rhythm, constantly changing positions as it shifted within the phases to complete the infinite cycle.    

There in the bright shadows she was barely able to recognize him. Still, she knew his name. She couldn’t remember her own, but she knew him. It seemed like a dream. Just a moment ago she had been lost, completely and utterly lost, yet his beating heart had guided her. He had found her.  

Like a shard of iron drawn by a magnet he called again, and her body obeyed. Every muscle inside her trembled. The curse possessing her was old, but the entity that lurked behind his eyes was ancient. She sunk deeper into those wide crystal blue orbs; they were almost luminescent. Lost and found and lost again. A shiver ran down her spine. Never did she fathom Varian could look like that. It was terrifying in its familiarity but at the same time -

“Beautiful,” he gave her thoughts form. 

“What will it be?” He continued with a hint of excitement. “Shall I keep you company, or will you swallow me whole?” A mischievous smile stole itself on his lips, long aware of her answer.

When she was finally able to comprehend the meaning of those words she shrank back. Never! The notion implied was absurd, and somehow insulting. 

Varian chuckled at her appalled reaction. The sound was laced with just the perfect touch of genuineness. And to her delight shy and bashful looked real good on the young alchemist. An unexpected warmth rushed through her, claiming parts of her soul the sun could never hope to reach.    

Nonchalant he lifted himself off the ground and slowly started to remove the dirt and dust from his clothes she hadn’t noticed earlier. What had happened? Her gaze followed his hands till it caught the crimson color on his scraped knees. Immediately she disapproved. More than that, she couldn’t stand the sight on him, everyone else maybe, but not him, it made her sick to her stomach and snarl in aggravation. It was simply wrong, inexcusable.   

“It’s slippery,” he offered when he realized her staring. So far Varian had meticulously avoided watching anything related to the open wound or ruby fluid dripping down his legs, and he intended to keep it that way. Determined he raised his chin, focus fixed firmly on his destination, while his mind was already miles and miles ahead. He needed to go, he couldn’t dwell any longer. Without another glance in her direction, he moved forward, letting her decide what to do.

The corners of Varian’s mouth twitched satisfied as she chose the place next to him. Far from earth yet close by his side, nothing but two wandering souls sharing the freedom to come and go as they please. It felt right. 

Whereas the heavy mist had once been a barrier to overcome, blocking and holding Catalina down, now it made the land nice and quiet, a reassuring blanket, wrapped around its forgotten treasures. With him, she could float between the clouds, untouched by gravity and the burden of uncertainty. 

Time went slower as past and future merged together into an ethereal present. There was no hunt nor chase, just the calm light beside her. It was strange how he took her heat and cooled it down to a soothing level, reminding her of the first dip into a lake’s refreshing embrace on a lazy summer day. She felt at ease as she walked along the moon. He revealed a gentler aspect of the night she hadn’t thought possible, less lonely, less desperate, more peaceful. It was as if she was waking up, and for the first time, she could actually see in the dark.

Chapter Text

The land was ageless. It had no beginning and no end. No boundary between earth and sky. Almost like entering another world. Faint images of whispering trees and babbling brooks passed her. And she knew their footprints had already been scattered by the wind.

The woods gave way, revealing a bare landscape that stretched on and on. For a moment she wasn't sure if they were headed toward heaven or hell. Never before had her paws touched those lands. But did it really matter? His gentle light filled her shadow, the stars aligned, and she felt complete. The pieces fit, still a little rough but all the same there. She couldn't quite describe it, but that was okay, she was where she belonged. Here at the edge of all things, there was only the moon on the mountain, and she would follow him without question.

Higher and higher he took her, leading her through rocky terrain as well as narrowing passages.

They went up a river the large hillside must have cried long ago. Now it had no more tears to shed, leaving merely the silent stairs of their path. While she had to pick her footing carefully, he seemed to make the climb effortless. Steady, he navigated steep cliffs, almost like in trance gliding weightlessly over them. He knew where to go, but so did she.

Every now and again she turned, gaining a new perspective of the obstacles they had overcome, of the forest she'd left behind, of the place she'd been born. Yet she'd abandoned it all to travel further beside him.

As if by chance her fur grazed his skin. Looking up she came face to face with those piercing blue orbs that had her soul singing. She could taste the misty moonshine in the air, could hear his heart beating, unyielding but fast. Involuntary she moved towards him. They were so close. She hadn't realized how close though.

Varian didn't step back however he did tense. At first, the manner in which his eyes clouded confused her. Then she faltered. In a way they made sense and in another, they didn't.

All of a sudden Catalina felt too big. Her fangs were too sharp, her claws too large. She averted her gaze. Whatever this was, whatever they had, she wasn't enough. Or rather it wasn't enough. At her core, she always had been greedy, and this was no exception. She wanted more, wanted to bump shoulders without making him stumble. She wanted to say something, wanted him to hear her, to talk, and couldn't. Not like this.

It's stupid, the girl thought as she trailed ahead.

"So, you know the way," Varian mused as he watched her. "I wonder, have you ever seen its end?"

She didn't reply, just moved on. They continued their walk and a bad feeling started to spread in her guts. Catalina had been here before, she remembered, once in a dream. Her claws dug into the ground. Or was it a nightmare? Forgotten in the dark lurked the eery cave. At the mere sight of the black circling emptiness, her hair stood straight. It screamed of danger. All her senses begged her to stay away. 

She growled and snarled in warning, keeping her distance and desperately praying for the boy to do the same. Varian had the nerve to smile apologetically at her as he got near the entrance. Damn it! Of course, he would fall for the spooky and more than obvious trap that smelled like death. Just her luck. Catalina rolled her eyes.

In an attempt to prevent what could be nothing but his doom, she placed herself between him and the obscure darkness.

Don't leave! She barked with no true means to stop him, at least not without hurting him. He couldn't understand. To him, it was just white noise.

"I can fill a room or just a heart. Others can have me, but I can't be shared. What am I?" He asked, voice thin and rough when he spoke.

The wolf was quiet. At its look of incomprehension, Varian laughed. A strangled sound, fickle and sad. Of course, it couldn't answer him. He felt ridiculous expecting otherwise.

"There are no shortcuts not for this," he told the animal. His schooled expression betrayed nothing. He had made his choice from the beginning, hadn't he?

A vial was shaken until it glowed softly. "I need to keep my word."

The resolve in his voice was what ultimately released her. With a heavy heart, she stepped aside. Bathed in the pale blue light he entered the darkness.

Once more the pitch-black night covered her view and she felt lonelier than ever. She didn't follow, couldn't. Her body was stiff and restless, pacing back and forth. Still, she refused to go inside. Her instincts told her to wait for his return and she trusted them, instead, she listened.

It felt like an eternity before her ears pricked up. Rustling of fabric, the echo of a shallow breath, and then something silver glistened. Just before she identified what it was, it vanished, hidden into the depth of… a backpack? Varian! Relief washed over her as he emerged. 

He looked different but still the same, somehow far away, calm in his demeanor yet with no light left to share.

His pale lips curved into another smile, a pitiful little thing shrouded in misery only suited for the red rims of his eyes. Briefly, she wondered what the boy had seen while he felt his way through ever-growing darkness. He appeared so fragile. Catalina feared that he would slip right through her fingers if she didn't hold on now.

Without warning, a stench burned her nose. It got stronger and stronger with each step he took in her direction. Ultimately she had to back away.

"Not a fan of Argentum, huh?" Varian laughed unfamiliar. He reeked of blood and metal and death.

The trip down was cloaked in silence. Way too soon they reached the crossroad where the village slept. And just like that, it was done, their journey was over. The orange glow of the twilight had broken the spell. It was never meant last, yet more than ever Catalina was determent to crave a place next to him during the day as well.

"It's time to go home." 

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When the morning got old, Varian's door locked again. 

Chapter Text

What do you want Varian?  

The queen had asked a lifetime ago. Back then he hadn’t answered, but lately, the question popped up more and more frequent in his mind -  a broken record stuck in his head, pulling and pushing all the wrong buttons. 

Sluggishly he stared at the ceiling above and wondered. What do you want Varian, deep down? The hard wooden bench pressed uncomfortable against his sore body and a tense knot formed inside his stomach. Slowly it wandered upwards. 

I want my da- harshly he swallowed the thought. His throat went tight and his eyes burned with tears he would never allow himself to shed again. He couldn’t. No more, he had sworn. It was nothing but a child’s dream. Angry he shoved it back into the dark where it belonged. You would have to rip his heart out before ever finding it again. 

He turned around to face the unforgiving stone wall, massive boulders shattered and stacked only there to keep him in. What a waste. He curled further into himself. 

“Varian?”   

He just wanted it to be normal again. He wanted his life back. Right, as if that was possible. There was no reversing the clock. What he had done was not to forgive.  

“Are you listening?” A voice twisted itself to the fore.

Varian sighed. Sometimes he missed the solitude of his former isolation, not by much, but then again it had always been simpler to lose himself in the bleak silence. Sharing a cell was difficult. It took so much effort to get used to the banal chatter around him. At a whim, Andrew could unleash an armada of nonsense that made his brain cells scream in agony. It was exhausting, but at least barking dogs don’t bite. He was just another guy who thought grinding his own coffee gave him a personality. 

Still indecisive, if his cellmate was a blessing or curse, he replied, “No.” 

He got better at drowning out the rubbish about how great Saporia had been, about the advanced culture, blazing architecture, the inspiring science, and magic. A true utopia with trust and loyalty as it’s most important virtues. He went on and on how family meant everything and a promise was holy between them.   

Varian’s nerves were stretched paper-thin as it was and the continuation of the criminal’s monologue didn’t help.    

“Soon my friends will come,” Andrew boasted not for the first time. 

At the misplaced confidence the alchemist laughed. It was a fake nasty little thing, usually forced out when he was sad or angry, or some other emotion he pretended he didn't know how to feel anymore.

“Then where are they?” A dangerous allusion lurked in his challenge. He dragged himself up into a sitting position.

“Just waiting for the right opportunity,” Andrew answered slightly taken aback. It was rare for the boy to chime in, especially like this.

“You mean like the kingdom being under attack and everyone distracted? Because I hate to break it to you this already happened and you’re still here,” Varian sneered with malice. “Nobody gives a shit. You’re on your own.” 

Suddenly the brutal truth of his own words tore through him. There was no anticipating the force of their impact. Without a warning, it hit right where it hurt most. Just like me, he thought. He was all alone. He had nobody. And he deserved it. 

The tonal whiplash made his head spin. What was wrong with him? The lack of coherence and consistency over his own emotions frightened him. He was fine just a second ago and now his house of cards was crumbling beneath his fingertips, making room for pain he couldn’t fathom to handle by himself. He took a stuttering breath. It was too much. He couldn’t - He wished Ruddiger would have been back. He was such a mess and the ball of anxiety was only growing larger. 

“We don’t have to be.” Andrew’s hand had found its way onto his shoulder and Varian flinched. 

Carefully the older man seated himself next to the child and tugged Varian into his arms. It was the first human contact in ages, at least physically. Varian felt like throwing up. His face was pressed against the soft fur of an obscure coat and he could sense the familiar weight of a heavy hand on his trembling body. If he closed his eyes and concentrated really hard it might be enough to pretend… His breath hitched. He was disgusting, so weak, he knew, but just for a moment, Varian leaned in. “I’m so sorry,” he heard himself say and felt more tired than ever.  

“Hey, hey. It’s okay buddy. Breathe.” Andrew smiled down at him. This was almost too easy. “I get you. We’re in the same boat, you and I. Forgiven and forgotten.” 

And when Andrew’s voice sounded a little strained in his ears, he wouldn’t comment on it, he didn’t care.

Chapter Text

Their moment was interrupted by vicious hissing and snarling. The raccoon had returned. Cleverly it weaseled through narrow window bars to put itself between the adult and the child. 

Andrew removed his hands. A second later and his fingers would have been gone. The tiny critter seemed ready to rip his throat out. It was fiercely protective of its precious human. On all occasions, it kept him at bay, not allowing him near the boy, let alone touch him. 

As the furball of fury climbed into the alchemist’s lap, the Separatist stepped back - not that he had a choice. After all he was in no need to rush. Time was nothing he lacked and if he couldn’t find an opening today, well there was always tomorrow. 

With the imminent threat averted, Ruddiger turned to tend to Varian, making sure the kid was okay. Little paws reached up, patting his cheeks soothingly. Concerned chittering accompanied the gentle gesture. 

Andrew fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

It didn’t take long before gloved fingers brushed over gray pelt. Cautiously Varian nuzzled his face against the ring-tailed bandit, anchoring himself in the familiar scent. Glazed eyes finally focused on the warmth and comfort his companion conveyed and the boy visibly relaxed. It always worked like a charm.  

Andrew didn’t comment on the display of affection. He hadn’t made it this far by questioning things. Frankly, he was rather relieved that he didn’t have to deal with the moody teen. 

The rodent’s gaze crossed his and a venomous growl escaped its throat - as if Andrew was personally to blame for the sorry state its charge was in. The distaste was almost palpable. 

Ruddiger bared his fangs. Not a warning but a promise. 

It was hilarious.     

“Easy there,” Varian chided the animal ever so softly while caressing it behind the ear. 

Bit by bit, the boy returned to normal. His breath became more stable and the shaking stopped. When the nocturnal beast was done picking up the pieces, it leaped out of Varian’s arms to bring him its loot of the day. A big shiny red apple. 

Dark pupils regarded Varian in expectation before the fruit was nudged against his side. Eager sounds of cooing followed, encouraging a carefully crafted dance of pulling and tugging until the brat would eventually give in and take the damn thing. The raccoon made a muffled purring noise, an obvious sign of victory while they both ended up munching on the juicy gift. The separatist felt his own hunger gnawing at his stomach, but Varian didn’t offer and Andrew wouldn’t ask.    

By now they had performed their stupid little routine a million times. He’d never forget when he witnessed it first. Back then the criminal had to avert his gaze - watching them care so deeply for each other felt painfully intrusive. It was one of the most awkward moments in his life - uncomfortable didn’t even begin to describe how he felt as the malnourished child looked up with those sad baby-blue eyes and offered him a portion of the treat his loyal buddy literally risked its neck for. Never had he declined something faster in his life, coming up with some excuses about allergies and rodent fur. Thankfully, Varian hadn’t pressed or brought it up again, though the lingering taste of bile remained in the man's memory. Whatever. 

Andrew wasn’t fond of children per se - too loud, too bright, too needy, with heads way too big for their small bodies and filled with dreams even bigger, but this just pissed him off. It made him angry, angry, and something else. To love the brat was unbelievable easy and somebody must have royally screwed up for him to end up here. It was funny, in a heartbreaking kind of way. Poor, poor summer child, the Separatist thought. He smiled. A part of him couldn’t wait to ruin him. They had it coming and he knew he wouldn’t disappoint.   

Legends about the Wizard of old Corona spread throughout the country long before Varian’s grand debut. Unpredictable and dangerous was what they called him. He’d been a true enigma, perhaps still was. To hear the news about the alchemist’s attack, his power, and what he’d done had been amazing. Singlehandedly destroying the city, commander of monster and machines alike, wielder of magic, almost erasing the entire bloodline of the ruling family and bringing the kingdom to its knees - it was a dream come true! Finally a kindred spirit, especially such a mighty one. Andrew had been ecstatic. Unfortunately, reality turned out to be different. How so often it put a damper on his hopes. The scrawny little child they had thrown into his cell was a total wreck. But it had to be him, no doubt. Five guards, wrist and ankles bound by steel, chains, manacles, shackles... It looked ridiculous - one big ugly joke. A small chat with the night-patrol was all it had taken to confirm his assumption. And if it weren’t for them, the frequency in which the captain suddenly visited would have been a dead giveaway. Multiple times he checked in with his men about the kids well being. It was weird. He didn’t trust him. The raccoon’s angry hissing was reason enough. But that left him only with more questions. The boy himself was no help, silent and suspicious as he was. 

Though, all things considered, it could have been worse. Varian proved to be a good kid and a rather nice cellmate. He didn’t need much space, was mostly quiet and Andrew could have the prison food the guards brought, which Varian wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. All in all very polite and pleasant to be around. Course he had his ‘moments’, but who didn’t?

Still, the criminal wasn’t really sure what to do with the brat yet. The potential was there. Beneath the layers of shy kindness, he could see it. He had the perfect set of skills: cunning, ruthless, arrogant, and oh so very desperate. It was almost a crime to waste them. With the right influence, the young alchemist could have a bright future. Andrew’s eyes glanced over his delicate frame. On close inspection, the child was also very pretty. Once he grew up the little dweep would be freakishly handsome and he bet he would be as oblivious to that as well.

Varian was a firestorm waiting to happen. How to strike the match was the question. Intimidation wasn’t the way to go. The kid was spooked by his own shadow, so he had to be a tad more subtle, dig a little deeper into his bag of tricks.

Andrew sighed and shook his head while he continued talking with his golden tongue. He was good at it. He knew. And if he was lucky he’d find something useful. He had his way to get under people’s skin. It was only a matter of time till he struck gold. So he kept on poking through the ashes, waiting for a spark to ignite. 

Chapter Text

Think about what you have, what you can do, and ask yourself: What do you want Varian, deep down?

The question was stupid. He wasn’t. There was no point in an answer that didn’t matter, at least not really. He knew, had always known - not that it changed a damn thing. The words may sound nice and even a tad meaningful, nevertheless in the grand scheme they were empty. Empty and useless. Pretentious thoughts wrapped oh so prettily. He hated it. So why wouldn’t they leave him be? Why did they kept him up at night and haunted his days? It wasn’t fair. Dwelling on things you couldn’t have, got you nowhere. But then again there was no place for him to go anyway. 

He was so tired of it all, and the voices simply wouldn’t stop, not just the ones in his head, but also the one surrounding him. Varian let out a frustrated sound. Dealing with Andrew was a challenge even on good days but he’d reached his limits a while ago and with no energy to spare he was grinding on bare bones. 

Still better than being alone, he reminded himself begrudgingly. 

Though, the never-ending stream of mindless platitudes was taking its toll. Under the right leadership, Corona could be great again, they were betrayed, the royal family ruined everything, revenge would be ours, blah-blah-blah… Obviously, Andrew confused him with somebody who gave a shit. On a certain level, he probably should care, but it just struck him as weirdly boring. If he’d been in his right mind he would have found the lack of emotion more than concerning.  

“What would you even do? You get arrested the second someone recognizes you?” He interrupted Andrew’s tedious rant, yearning for some quiet while trying to quell his growing migraine. 

“Ever heard of the Wand of Oblivium?” Andrew asked patronizingly. 

Without waiting for a reply he presumptuously continued his story about a device that caused… amnesia? Varian’s head tilted slightly to the left. Altering memories - was that even possible? But why not? It couldn’t be such a big stretch from mood-potions or truth serums. Already the scientist in him wondered about the hows. He entertained the thought for a moment. It had potential, he contemplated, scratching Ruddiger absentminded under the chin.

The subtle shift on the atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed. Hungry eyes started to wander and Andrew’s gut feeling was telling him now or never. He suppressed a wolfish grin. Finally.

“As chance has it, I know where to get one,” the Separatist fueled the spark. 

“You also need a person who can use it,” Varian mused, eyes alight with attention. His interest was clearly piqued.  

Over the last couple of hours, the alchemist asked more and more questions. With every sentence the boy flourished, going from lethargic reservation to a soft buzzing hint of excitement. As far as Andrew remembered this was their first interaction that could count as an actual conversation. When he finished his tale the older man could practically smell the smoke from the fire he had invoked.     

Slowly Varian’s wheels begun to turn, cogs interlocked and gears meshed together. Something inside him was set into motion. It wasn’t anything concrete yet, just a feeble hunch, a vague idea, nothing tangible, but each word out of Andrew’s mouth greased the machinery till his thoughts were racing faster and faster. Plans and schemes flew by so quick he was barely capable to catch them. He got a little dizzy from all the possibilities. It would take a while to organize them, to come up with an adequate strategy. He needed to gather more data first. But he didn’t mind. There was something Varian hadn’t felt in a long time. Urgency. 

The alchemist was starting to see the next steps forming in his mind. He hadn’t realized how badly he craved structure until he had it, and he was not about to let go. What was it? Forgiven and forgotten.   

“I - let’s get out.”

Andrew was hardly able to hear the words he had waited so long for. And when he did he had to school his expression so he wouldn’t appear like the cat that got the cream. 

“I’ll be gladly of assistance.” A pleased smile echoed in the man’s voice. 

Varian looked at him for a prolonged amount of time and frowned. I bet you will, he thought.

Something dark stirred in the depth of him as he sized the other up. Evaluating and assessing his use while he stared right through him. He pushed the chess figures back and forth on his mental board. Merely a pawn, the alchemist concluded. If played correctly, combined with the right equipment, even the likes of Andrew could convert into a knight. And what a fine knight he would make.

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Ultimately Varian spent two weeks coming up with a fairly adequate plan. Sure, there were some kinks to work out, but nothing he wouldn’t be able to wing. All in all, he was pleased with himself. It was as solid as it could get. 

Slowly he rose from the harsh wood that had been his bed for the last 8 months. His mouth twitched. The time passed seemed suddenly ridiculous long. Approximately 34 weeks, 243 days or 5840 hours… In the end, he didn’t care. Not really. 

Moonlight poured through the small window and lit the alchemist’s path to the exit. As if in trance his fingers slid across the cold and smooth surface of the bars. Steady breath, and focused mind. A soft metallic thud echoed occasionally through the dark. He didn’t turn around when he felt the presence of the older man right behind him.

“Nobody is going to be harmed,” Varian demanded with enough intensity to melt the steel then and there.

Andrew squirmed at his tone.

“Of course not. I promise,” he assured. ”Don’t you trust me?”

For barely a second the corner of Varian’s lips quirked up. 

No, they thought simultaneously. Not once, not ever. He won’t let sweet words fool him again. They both were only scavenging for opportunities. Nothing more. 

“Shall we get started?” Varian asked instead. 

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The plan, Andrew complained silently, was not as straight forward as he would have preferred. Not enough blood and too sneaky even for his taste. Yet in spite of that, he had to admit that it was freaking genius. You’d have to be blind to not see the brilliance hidden under the layers of it all. It was stunning how smart the kid could be. Though, it was still batshit crazy.

So far so good, he mused. Until now Andrew had played along and followed the nerd's plot to a T, but well where was the fun in that? Adrenalin pumped through his veins as he crept past the narrow corridors, avoiding the unwanted eyes around him. Freedom was so close. How easy it would be to ditch the brat. Leaving him behind seemed like the safest bet. The way the kid's demeanor changed over the last couple of days was kind of alarming. And while he welcomed the development in their routine, the masses of questions he was suddenly pestered with were insufferable, nearly overwhelming. He wasn’t sure if he liked what he had woken. It sent chills down his spine. 

He chuckled slightly in the shadows. Luckily, playing with fire was his forte. This wasn’t his first rodeo. The Separatist had burned his fair share of bridges and villages for that matter. So many in fact that the only direction for him to move was forward. If you knew how to control the flames it would be worth the hassle. For Saporia.   

“What took you so long?” Varian’s brows knit together as the lock of the door burst open. 

“Got you something.” The criminal rolled his eyes and tossed the object unceremoniously in his direction. 

Hopefully, that would earn him some points with the paranoid little- Or lots of points? The expression on Varian’s face was priceless, an exquisite mix of shock and disbelieve. The boy's eyes widened in surprise, temporarily losing focus. As if a precious treasure whose value could not be measured, had just returned. Varian held it close to his chest and Andrew bit the inside of his lip to stifle his gleeful smirk. It was always nice to pull the rug under Mr. smartypant's feet. 

Their eyes met and despite himself, Andrew recoiled. Unable to hold the gaze he looked away. The sheer amount of honest emotion in them was too much. 

“Thank you,” Varian said in a thick voice and a vulnerable little smile smeared across his face. 

It was aimed in his direction and Andrew couldn’t stand it. Gratitude was not what he was used to - not what he wanted.

“Whatever, don’t get mushy with me kid,” he warned. ”We don’t have all night.” 

It was strange, how Varian appeared somehow more complete as soon as he put the old pair of goggles on. 

Together they stepped outside and he took the place next to him. Of course, the first thing Varian discovered were the unmoving guards slumped in the corner. Concern flashed over his features. 

Before the young alchemist could say anything Andrew intervened irritated. “They’re only unconscious.” The older man readied himself for the unavoidable argument on principles and a sharp reprimand that never came. Huh?

Varian said nothing, only nodded and continued walking, leaving it all behind. 

There was no holding back Andrew’s pleased grin this time. The dice were cast.  

Chapter Text

“Get lost!” The bartender’s stern voice echoed over the filthy street. “And stay outta here creep!”  

With a curse on his lips, Andrew rubbed his sore behind which had to absorb most of the impact during his rough landing. 

For all the brains the kid possessed he’s unbelievably dumb, he thought angrily. It’d been a while since he was tossed out of a tavern quite like that. The criminal’s ears still rung from the humiliating treatment, completely missing the hushed words Varian and the old geezer exchanged. What he caught was the scowl pointed in his direction and a couple of coins shoved into the boy’s confused hands. It was the worst kind of generosity and drove the final nail in tonight's coffin. Gone was his patience. When he was mad before he was furious now.

“What’s wrong with you!?!” He growled as soon as the door of the establishment shut. 

For the first time, Andrew’s mask crumbled but Varian didn’t care. 

“I could ask the same,” he hissed right back. Every syllable dripped with venom. 

“I did not get us kicked out.” He fought hard to keep his temper, yet it was a losing battle. With more force than they deserved Andrew cleaned his stained clothes. He was fed up with all this crap and the brat made it 10 times worse.
 
“And I am not in the habit of lying.” 

“Then get your freaking priorities straight!” He drilled his finger into Varian’s chest. “You looking like a 10-year-old is the reason we’re thrown out of every bar in the kingdom.” 

“Excuse me?” Varian snarled. How dare!

“I may not be up to your pretentious ‘moral standards’,” And yes, he did the air quotes. “But at least I -“

“Oh, stop stroking your own ego!” Varian snapped. He had it with the crook. This was not worth it. 

The air between them was loaded with electricity. Andrew could feel it prickle and gnawing on his skin. He swallowed his nasty reply and took a deep, deep breath. The adult inside him realized that this was getting out of hand. Not for the first time he reminded himself that the child’s alchemy was actually very useful - a seldom opportunity. And while he could work with anger it was indeed better if it wasn’t aimed at him. He knew what to do. 

“Just so you know, I have feelings too. I am a very delicate flower.” Professionally he flipped the mood.

Varian blinked. 

“What?” he asked confused and frowned. “No. No, you’re not.” 

“Exactly. That’s the point,” Andrew lowered his voice, they'd already turned too many heads.

“Who taught you how to lie?” He questioned, deflecting the kid’s attention as he started to move.

“Nobody.” Varian crossed his arms but trailed behind him. 

Andrew smiled.
 
“Well it shows - it’s written all over your face.” As funny as it may be that the boy was like an open book, it only meant trouble in the long run.
 
An offended huff accompanied him into the next alley. 

“It’s not a very nice skill to have,” Varian muttered.

Andrew ignored him. “I am going to teach you,” he proclaimed. “You should be honored to learn from a true master. However, for now,” the Separatist’s eyes darted briefly to the owner of a shabby street stall. “Use this.” He swiped an innocent bandana when nobody was looking. 

After they got out of sight Andrew handed Varian the ugly thing.

“Cover your face till you’re able to lie like a big boy,” he taunted lightly. 

The teen sneered unimpressed. For a split second, he hesitated, mulling their conversation over. Finally, Varian shoved Andrew’s hand away but not before taking the weird scrap of fabric. 

“Try it!” The older man encouraged. 

Varian rolled his eyes.

“Come on, humor me.”

The alchemist covered his mouth and nose skeptically. He may not be good at lying yet, however, he was very good at listening. And most interesting to him was what people didn’t say.

“I am a very delicate flower,” he parroted Andrew’s line from earlier.
 
Andrew laughed at the amount of sass thrown at him when his own words glided off Varian’s tongue. If he concentrated he could hear the small smile hidden in his voice as well. “Yes. Yes, you are.” 

Huh? Who would have thought, Varian contemplated, it works.

“Follow me. We should be close,” Andrew said as he stepped further into the dark.  

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The gaze of the bartender had been glued to the odd duo. Warily, he’d watched them through the window before they were swallowed by the city. He was still unsure of what to make of them. The look the boy gave his companion as he introduced himself as his father flashed up behind his eyes and he knew that there would be no sleep for him tonight.

Chapter Text

He was going to vomit. He could feel it in the way his guts clenched together, not painful, more like a dull cold ache, pulsing and pushing against his insides. Baking cookies, sewing his doppelganger, even altering the mood potion and modifying it to a truth serum - that was one thing. This, however… His hands started to tremble, maybe they’d never truly stopped.

It’s the logical conclusion. It had to be done no matter the cost, he clung to the words like a lifeline, though with each stuttering breath, his fingers slipped a little further, inch by inch, till it was almost impossible to hold on. Tears threatened to break through, he hardly noticed when they fell. For a terrifying moment, there was only the burning sensation of acid. His throat tightened as the sour taste of bile creped up into his mouth and onto his tongue. He managed to put the vial down and step away before he doubled over, emptying his stomach. 

“Shit,” angry he wiped over his lips. One last time he spat on the ground to get rid of the foul flavor, almost expecting to see blood, but nothing. 

With stinging eyes, he glared at his stupid hands that just wouldn’t obey. He turned around in the vague hope that reminding himself of his cause would help. The golden light reflecting from the amber could have had a soothing effect if it weren’t for the face frozen in a nightmarish grimace of horror or despair or was it anguish? He couldn’t tell, he’d never seen his father look like this, yet with every passing day, it got harder to imagine a different expression on him. Varian didn’t say anything, had long given up talking to… it. And the figure encased in stone kept quiet as well. It didn’t look back, didn’t move, didn’t breathe - a lifeless block of flesh. Varian threw up again. 

After what felt like an eternity of hacking his intestines out, worried chitters reached his ears. Here in the dark, it was a common noise. He hated this. Hated all of it. Hated that he was the sole reason for Ruddiger’s distress. The intent of his tiny companion was clear, but he couldn’t leave - couldn’t leave it at that. It had to be done. He did the math and the numbers forced him into a corner. It needed to react faster, he had only a short time frame to work with. But oh god he wanted it to be over.

Once more his body refused to cooperate, however, this was not up for debate. He put his foot down and returned to the table with the yellowish-glowing solution. Giving the vial an unintentional shake. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the horrendous potion had the nerve to change color. 

It will get better, he tried to convince himself as he added another component to the mix. Just a couple more trials and it would be finished. And while this was hell, the first time had been so much worse. Still, he was dreading what was about to come, didn’t want to, didn’t knew if he could. There was no way around. He needed to be strong. He was … he couldn’t... he had to. It was the only way - the right thing to do. And after all, it was just alchemy. 

With weak knees, he approached one of the remaining black rocks, it’s surface smooth as ice. The tension grew by the minute and he repressed his primal instinct to flee out of his laboratory. His clothes stuck to his damp skin while his heart hammered so loud against his chest that he couldn’t hear his own sobs any longer. Wet lines began streaming down his cheeks. Salty drops gathered on his chin. He wasn’t sure if from crying or sweating in cold fear. 

Varian gasped for air like a drowning man and felt himself hyperventilate as he poured the liquid over the stone. Steadily the chemical spread, swelling, and stretching like an ugly infection. This time there were no green bubbles. Varian! 

Desperately the alchemist focused on counting the seconds. A crack shattered the silence and then a sickening crunch. It sounded like bones breaking, extremely loud, and terrible close. 

Varian! He bit the inside of his mouth until the taste of iron mixed with the earlier bitterness, another thing to focus on. Varian! 

The room started to spin. Nausea swept over him from just the intent to move and his legs trembled dangerously. Just a little more, he begged them not to give out. Varian!

As soon as the amber stilled he collapsed.

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Varian’s eyes fluttered open. And even so, they were still swollen and puffy, his face felt surprisingly dry. There were red marks on his arms from Ruddiger’s panicky attempt to wake him from this nightmare. He frowned. How long had he been out?
 
Slowly he got up, ignoring the sharp pieces of glass surrounding him. 387 seconds. He swallowed, it was still too slow.

“I got this,” he said to no one, his voice a tearful mess. 

He took a hitching breath and steeled himself for another trial. The next time would be easier, and the time after and the time after until he couldn’t feel anything but numbness woven deep into his soul. 

The raccoon cooed concerned.

Chapter Text

Sometimes Arianna wondered, wondered what if.

From the balcony, she watched the land peacefully enveloped in a soft blanket of ice and snow. Puffy white reflected the golden light above. She shivered as the north wind bit at her skin and a dozen frozen diamonds circled around her. Through her gloves and cloak, the cold slowly seeped into her bones. Absentmindedly she traced the beautiful flower patterns the frost had painted oh so effortless last night. With each breath, a brittle chill filled her lungs and in elegant swirls of mist, her warmth was quietly absorbed by the sunny winter day.

The queen sighed. Below, a fight had erupted - and what a fight it was! A snowball fight to be more precise. The battle started fairly simple, the Schnitzes vs. Rapunzel and her little friends. Forts were built, strategies made and soon one ball of compressed white powder after another learned how to fly. At one point Eugene and Lance pressed back to back. A quick glance and a twitch of their lips were all it took before they teamed up against the rest of the world. After that, alliances changed like leaves in the wind. 

Her heart swelled with joy at the lively spectacle. Varian just saved Catalina from a rather thick pile of snow falling down a massive pine tree. Now they both were taking cover behind it to escape the ex-thief’s and Pascal’s upcoming assault. With flushed cheeks, their playful laughter echoed in the winter wonderland. It came as no surprise to her when both banded together as well. 

Arianna’s eyes lingered fondly on the young alchemist, bright and fun and sweet. As queen, they were all her children, but Varian more so than any. It was different, more personal. In a way, she had seen him grow up. She had known him since he was born - a baby, cradled safely into his mother's slender arms. Course everyone had noticed her staring at the bubbly bundle. Back then she’d gracefully declined the offer to hold him. Pride did not allow her to follow the desire yet prevented spilling additional tears. It had been half a decade, still, it felt like yesterday since her own child was so viciously robbed from her. Quirin didn’t bring his wife nor Varian again. At least not until the boy was a toddler. She remembered the cute mop of black hair happily playing in her hallways. When Quirin’s family had been reduced to only the two of them, Varian would occasionally tag along too - a tiny shadow at the throne room’s door frame, shy and timid. She wished she’d said something besides the empty, “I am sorry for your loss.” Perhaps it would have made things less complicated.

In the end, Varian became a smart, polite, and kind young man. However, she could have spared him so much sorrow. He was good at hiding it, but she still saw it. Saw it in the way he avoided the guards, in the way he couldn’t look her in the eyes or seemed so entirely uncomfortable around Frederic, using her daughter and son-in-law as a shield between them whenever possible. Saw it in the straight line of his shoulders when he spoke, always a little on edge, always cautious.

The queen couldn’t stop wondering about the what-ifs. What if she had found the right words, tried a little harder. What if she had realized sooner? 

It was mind-blowing. How could have she been so blind? The boy was an open book, so easy to read, so easy to love, and even easier to guide. He was inherently good and always willing to be better.

She closed her eyes and kept on wondering what if…

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“Varian…,” the iron chain around Arianna’s ankle rattled foreboding in the night. 

So far he had treated her decent, nevertheless, she stood wary of him. The alchemist was dangerous and highly unstable.

“Quiet,” Varian replied in cold anger not willing to listen to her pretentious pleads.

And then it happened. She could hear a voice, a whisper, a prompter sharing the secrets of the lost soul in front of her. Was it her own? Arianna found courage in the thought. She would trust her instincts and let them lead her to a different future.

“Varian you have to stop!” She tried to appeal to reason.

“I’m gonna fix things,” he snapped, not bothering to go into details, his gaze dark with resolve as he filled up his chemical traps and reached for a tool on the ground.

Honesty, something mouthed into her ear. “Varian you’re scaring me…”

The alchemist squeezed his eyes shut. He knew that tone. It was the same Ruddiger made more and more often recently. Broken glass crunched under his feet as he headed for one of his bigger machines.

The queen saw a flicker of guilt rushing over his face while he passed by. Suddenly sure that he wouldn’t hurt her she pushed on. “Why are you doing this?”

Varian paused in his step.“I have to fix it,” he repeated, his back turned towards her. It looked very small, yet his voice was drenched in determination, never wavering, never yielding, never doubting his goal. She could see how exhausted he was beneath it all.

Almost inaudible, as if talking to himself he added, “It wouldn’t be like this if I just had been better.” With shaky fingers, he clutched the hammer in his hand and was about to resume his work.

“Look around you! This isn’t helping,” the queen spoke the unforgiving truth. Deep down he knew it too.

“How can I not try and make it right!?”  The alchemist twisted around. Here in the dim light he appeared almost haunted and with each furious step invading her space Arianna’s hope sunk.

“It’s my fault,” Varian spat as he admitted to a reality his heart wasn’t able to deny. It had weighed on him for so long now and finally broke free. A part of him awaited the queen's judgment in fear, not sure if he could handle the fall out of what it implied. Another more sadistic one wanted to see her fail, see her turn away, abandon him like the rest of the kingdom, to prove that they’d deserve what was coming, prove him right! She was just another spineless coward, silently watching without ever listening, without ever providing an ounce of help. Her words meant nothing.

Baffled at the blaze of fury directed at her Arianna didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine what was going through the boy's head, but she could tell that there was a gentle pressure, a ghostly hand lifting her chin, guiding her gaze to the amber. Oh.

“Varian, is that what you think? That this is your fault?” 

She’d been there. If she had been a better mother, more careful, had listened, hadn’t gotten sick in the first place her daughter would have never been stolen from her. And even after, she should have done more, searched harder for her baby girl… It took a lot for Arianna to learn that guilt wasn’t always rational nor logical.

Varian bit his tongue and refused to look at the woman. The mother inside her wanted to comfort him, while the prisoner was still cuffed to the ground and the Queen had to stay strong.

“I know it,” his voice sounded fragile, on the brink of breaking and letting him sink into the depth of misery he’d created. It felt weird sharing his dark secret, especially with her. He thought he had hidden it so well but somehow it managed to crawl all the way up to the surface. Why now?

“No,” Arianna insisted firmly. “It’s not. It’s not your fault your father is that way.”

For a split second, the boy’s eyes widened before he looked away once more. She knew he wasn’t believing her.

“There isn’t a fault,” the words appeared without her consent. “It just is.” Nonetheless, she found strength in them and continued on her own. “But all this,” she waved her arm, motioning to the destruction around them. “You trying to make it your responsibility, this is causing real harm,” Arianna found her footing as she gained momentum. “Thinking that if you had just been better, things would’ve been different, that you are responsible for fixing things that are beyond your control,” the queen paused. “It’s not the way.”

His eyes snapped open and ultimately met with hers. Ever so gently she took the burden out of his shaking hands. “Varian it’s not your fault. And I still want to help you, if you let me.”

Varian was completely and utterly lost. Standing in the remains of his destroyed home, a billion emotions crossing behind those big burning blue orbs, as her words washed over him. For months he’d been so scared, so alone, and above all so very very tired. His shoulders trembled and he covered his face with his hands.

Something shoved against Arianna’s back and she reached for him without a second thought.

Before Varian could make up his mind, could rationalize or lie again there was a pair of arms wrapped around him. She felt warm and safe and it had been so long. Fat tears dripped down his cheeks and he could hear his own pathetic sobs. First small and then louder and louder as he surrendered into the queen’s embrace. Like a dam bursting, he just couldn’t stop. Arianna held him close, while Varian tried to quell the ugly sounds ripping through his body.

“It's fine. Let it all out,” she mumbled softly to the child latched onto her. He buried his face in her chest, crying his heart out.

She didn’t know how long she was holding him, only knew that with each tear the boy shed her own soul was bleeding in kind. She was the queen, her duty lay with her people and yet it was her inaction as well that brought them to this. In doing nothing she had betrayed her kingdom. 

“It's not your fault.” All she could do now was to offer him the exit he’d been so desperately searching for, and he took it so willingly. At this point, any exit would do, cause the alternative was just too much to bear.

“Uh…uhu…guh..ngh,” Varian’s cries turned into pitiful coughing. He needed to take a deep breath. “Guhh…haaahaa…ry…” Again he scrambled for air. ”R…rry…Sorry…”

Please don’t apologize, she thought horrified. Her own cheeks started to get wet but she did not stop him. As queen, she was mother to all and there was no denying that she failed this child oh so miserably.

“I am sorry,” the boy struggled between rapid and shallow breaths. “It… it was an accident.”

New tears welled up, joining her already soaked dress. For all his bravado, all his skills, he was nothing but a kid, naive and dumb and small, and she swore here and now she’d protect him no matter what. She looked at Quirin again.

“I know.”

Everything is gonna be okay, I promise, she wanted to assure but got hushed by the ominous feeling. Instead, she said, “I am here,” and rubbed gentle circles along his back. 

“I am sorry too, Varian,” she whispered into his hair, voice raspy and thin... 

When Rapunzel and Frederic finally arrived to the rescue they found both of them cuddled into a corner, with Arianna’s kidnapper collapsed in her arms. One look from the Queen and they put their weapons down.

“Arianna dear?” The king asked.

“He’s going through a lot right now,” she shushed her husband and kept on petting Varian’s head.

.
.
.

Raps threw another snowball, followed by Varian’s mischievous laughter and Arianna sighed once more. Maybe it was for the best. It wasn’t up to her to decide where the tides of life led, but sometimes she wondered what if.

Chapter Text

It had been two months since they conquered the castle and a couple of days since he had last seen their alchemist. Varian was working nonstop on the Quirineon, leaving all the major decisions up to them. As long as they got him his minerals and other stuff he needed he didn’t care what they were up to. Occasionally Andrew checked in on him. When the little twat wouldn’t show up for a prolonged amount of time it was his job to figure out if he was still alive or not. He didn’t mind. It was always weirdly fascinating what the boy could do with his chemicals down in the laboratory. 

“What's up chum?” He greeted, testing the waters.

Varian didn’t respond and that was answer enough. His sharp eyes were solemnly focused on the task at hand. He appeared unaware of his surroundings, so deep was he caught in the prison of his own mind. 

Andrew sighed. Right back to square one. 

“Where is your hamster?” 

Usually, Varian’s tiny shadow was never far, especially when he got like that, however, right now it was nowhere to be found. Something about that sat wrong. He had a bad feeling. It made him uneasy, kinda twitchy.

“Raccoon,” Varian corrected absentmindedly. “He won’t come anymore.”

“What? Why?” Andrew asked surprised. He started to get worried. Was the kid onto them?

Vials and tubes clinked together in a lonesome lullaby.

“Cause he hates you,” Varian stated as a matter of fact. “And he does not agree with my actions,” his voice sounded hollow.

With the rodent out of the picture, it would be a child’s play to keep the brat in check, the leader of the Separatists mused. Still, he seemed so different from the boy that had cried himself to sleep in their shared cell.

“It doesn’t matter,” Varian wasn’t looking up, fully engulfed by his experiments. “He too will forget soon.” There was no give in his expression, no remorse or guilt - there was nothing in his face at all.

And now Andrew was truly worried. Careful he filed that information away into a box to think about never. Kids these days could be real scary. 

“Seems like you have it all figured out kiddo.”

The alchemist nodded but wasn’t listening any longer.

Andrew reluctantly pulled himself away and left the monster he’d created behind in the dark dungeon. 

Chapter Text

“Quirin! Quirin,” he heard the panicked shouts gradually getting louder. In the distance a figure raced towards him, waving its arms and yelling his name. 

“There… there’s,” the other man gasped as soon as he was in earshot. “There’s smoke coming from your house!” He managed to finish between his frantic gulps for air.   

“Shit,” Quirin cursed. “Not again.” 

He broke into a run. From miles away he noticed the black clouds hovering over his home, slithering out of the windows and chimney and into the sky. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he dashed through the open front door. With stinging eyes, he marched on, the taste of ash already tainting his tongue. Before he could call out for his wife a series of dry coughs reached him. He whirled around and as if in slow motion the love of his life emerged from a thick front of darkness.   

“Well that could have gone better,” she muttered to herself while wiping her face and smearing the soot off her gloves all over it. Her hair was slightly burned on the ends and Quirin was sure that her eyebrows only survived thanks to the pair of goggles she wore. 

“Are you all right?” He asked a tad less anxious seeing her relaxed demeanor and the bucket of water she casually carried past him. 

“Sure, sure. Everything is peachy,” she gave a dismissive wave with her hand which felt slightly off.     

“Where is -”  A sharp sizzling sound from the kitchen interrupted him. 

“Over there,” she simply jerked her thumb towards the infant sitting under the table next to the open window. 

Right on cue, Varian started to giggle over who-knows-what. At the muffled sound the tight knot in Quirin’s stomach loosened and his worries morphed into relief, only to loop right back to anger. What was she thinking?! His fists clenched and he opened his mouth about to give the woman a piece of his mind -

“Welcome home love,” she greeted uncharacteristically sweet and amicable and completely stealing his thunder before he could so much as unleash his grievances. This wasn’t good. Quirin had the feeling that he was suddenly the one in trouble. 

“You’re back early,” her arms crossed over her chest and she tilted her head.  

Quirin winced. How was it possible for the tables to turn so quickly? He knew exactly where she was going with this, he should have been home hours ago… however old corona needed him.  

“Still no reason to burn down the house,” the newly elected leader of the village grumbled as he helped to open the remaining windows on the upper floor. 

“What did you say?”

“Nothing,” he hastily replied. “Why do we have a baby’ sized gas mask?” Very subtle Quirin tried to change the topic.

“One should be prepared,” came the clipped answer accompanied by another bucket of water emptied over the stove. She was clearly giving him the cold shoulder. 

“So, uh, what were you doing anyway?” Awkwardly he rubbed the back of his neck. Logically he should be the one being mad, not her, but well, Quirin decided it was better not to poke the bear. “Uh, experiments in the kitchen, that’s kinda new.”

“Well, we finished dinner and I promised Varian to make dessert.” 

It was only half the truth. Quirin was supposed to be there, eating supper and then having family time. They both had promised Varian a special treat today. But seriously he was just an infant, he wouldn’t even remember. So no harm done right?

The smoke had cleared and with practiced ease, she took the mask off the child’s chubby little face.

“Cookie,” it squealed in delight.

In a swift motion, his wife removed her own goggles and undid her ponytail to shake out her hair. She let the soft curtain pour over Varian to play with for a moment. 

“How about I give you a hand?” Quirin offered a temporary truce. There were many great things alchemy could do but the perfect batch of cookies was not one of it. 

A pair of sharp sapphire eyes pinned him down. “We could have used a hand 2 hours ago,” she raised her chin.   

Quirin winced once more at the icy tone and a shiver went down his spine. The underlying implication was clear. He inhaled deeply. “How about you leave the cookies to me?” 

She raised her brow unimpressed.

“And leave the cleaning to me?” He added. 

“Oh dear, you don’t have to. I know how busy you are. But if you insist,” his beautiful mistress of passive-aggressiveness sounded unbelievable smug, nonetheless, her expression seemed pleased with his redemption attempt.

Suddenly a second batch exploded behind them and if it weren’t for Quirin jumping 10 feet into the air he would have teased her for the ridiculous-looking face she just made.

“Boom, boom,” Varian cackled and Quirin laughed too. 

Her lips formed a sheepish smile. “Come now little monkey, that was our signal,” she lifted Varian up, holding him above her head, and bumped their foreheads together. “Daddy has important stuff to do.” 

She twirled around. Another fit of giggles erupted from Varian and she kept on spinning until his cheeks were rosy and the room full of happy baby noises. Her boy sounded more than ecstatic. Finally, she kissed the tip of his nose. “Let's do some real science like responsible adults.”

Quirin rolled his eyes. “You literally just lit the kitchen on fire.” 

“Yeah, and I take full responsibility for that,” she replied and waggled her eyebrows before blowing raspberries onto Varian’s tummy. 

Chapter Text

“Time for bed little one.” 

In one swift motion, Varian was picked up before he could so much as protest. “A story, a story!” The boy pleaded while his mother carried him upstairs, puppy eyes already in place. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” she crocked her head in consideration and asked with a sly grin “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll play you your favorite lullaby,” Varian coaxed cheekily. 

She laughed at his affectionate bribe - so fare his persuasion attempt never failed. Unceremoniously she dropped him into their lair of pillows and blankets. “How can I say no to that? Do you remember?”

A big smile stretched over Varian’s face. He puffed out his chest and nodded enthusiastically. “Of course!” Jumping out of bed, he went promptly over to his kiddie piano and dragged it back to her waiting arms. The thing was tiny and worn and well-loved. 

As soon as she hummed the first note Varian followed her without hesitation. 

“Good job,” she praised while listening. His stubby fingers flew over colorful keys, more hits than misses, but far from perfect, still close enough. Finally, she joined him with her gentle and sweet lullaby. 

“Guten Abend, gut’ Nacht. 
Mit Rosen bedacht,” 

A key got stuck, yet their song continued. Neither of them cared. 

“Mit Näglein besteckt,
schlüpf unter die Deck!”

As out of tune as the child’s loyal instrument may have been, it did its best to accompany them each step of the way.

“Morgen früh, wenn Gott will,
wirst du wieder geweckt.”

The door creaked quietly as she repeated the chorus. In the corner of her eyes, she spotted her husband eavesdropping. A dopey smile softened his usually stern features and a forever 5-year-old part in her longed to stick out her tongue, however, she moved on to the next verse without missing a beat. 

The last note faded into the night and Varian had to stifle his yawn. “A story,” he begged once more. 

“Fine, fine. Which one would you like?” She reached for the two books resting on the nightstand. “Should I read this old thing?” 

Disdainfully she held the incoherent piece of low-quality literature as far away from her as possible. Between two fingers, she shook the pages and made a disgusted gagging sound as if a foul smell had climbed into her nose. “So dull, so bland.” 

Varian giggled in response and Quirin rolled his eyes. So theatrical. 

“Or would you like Mommy’s book?” Her eyes sparkled bright and her energetic voice toppled over with the promise of joy and fun. It was irresistible. 
 
“Mommy’s book! Mommy’s book!” The child cheered in delight, clapping its hands together.

“Seems like Mr. Flynn Rider and the Secrets of Lunaris will have to wait yet again. Tonight we discover the power of alchemy!”

“Really?” Quirin questioned with one eyebrow raised, ultimately revealing himself. “Tststs, corrupting our poor innocent son like this.”

Varian beamed at the sight of his father entering the room. 

“Look Varian, Daddy’s being a sore loser,” she said with a smirk that rendered the warrior completely helpless. 

“Enjoy your victory while you can. You know sooner or later he will catch on,” he chuckled.

She grinned deviously, “Which book?” she asked Varian again in her sing-song voice.

“Mommyyyyss!!!”

Oh god, he loved this woman, Quirin thought, and said, “I think I married a psychopath.”

“Ups, what a turn of events.” 

Her smile stole his words away. He took the toy out of Varian’s lap and placed it carefully on the floor. 

“Scooch over,” he muttered fondly.

“Aaah-choo,” his wife abruptly sneezed and Quirin blinked. “Oh no, I’m allergic to stupid people,” she continued teasing lighthearted but slid to the end of the small bed. The space was tight, though they’ve always found a way to make room for each other and this was no exception. She reached back and tilted her head so they fit perfectly, just like they always had. Slowly she kissed her husband's throat, mouthing around his jawline in a way that was just this side of decent, and Quirin's breath hitched.  

“Mommy,” Varian whined with heavy eyes, tugged in safe and warm between his parents he was protected from the chill of the night.

“Where were we?” She opened the book, but not before pecking some small kisses on Varian’s nose as well. The child laughed at the tickling sensation, lightly trying to push her away.

“All right,” her lips curled up. “Gases are those particles that stay apart from each other with easy and fast movement. It neither has definite volume nor definite shape. They occupy the space completely. For example – Balloons which isn’t a gas, however, the helium inside-”

“Do the voices! Do the voices!” 

“The helium,” Her voice raised three octaves, “Inside the balloon is gas which has very low atomic mass and when in a gaseous state, it is lighter than the air...”

The story of the noble gases went on until Varian fell asleep, mouth slightly open and muscles twitching now and then behind closed lids. Carefully she brushed a delicate strand of black hair out of his face. One last time she kissed him good night and pressed their foreheads together thinking, you are more precious than anything else in this world and I will always always love you.  

Chapter Text

Her ears were ringing, stars flashed in front of her eyes and she could still feel the heat gnawing on her skin.

“That,” she coughed slightly dazed. “Was unexpected.”

She ran a hand through her hair, fiddling with the strands that still stuck out into every direction imaginable. Instinctively she put them back in place, before remembering something more important. She whirled around to check on the infant on the other side of the lab. The child appeared unperturbed, sitting happily in the colorful chaos it caused, while nibbling seemingly thoughtful at his cookie. Her shoulders relaxed and a sheepish smile stretched over her lips.

“Good news, everyone is alive and the explosion was pretty cool,” she proclaimed mischievously and Varian giggled. “Bad news is we need a new ceiling.”

On unsteady feet, she went over to her baby boy. Next to him, her toolbox was already waiting.

“Daddy will probably not be happy, so let's keep it a secret between you and me,” she winked at Varian. Her eyes caught the metal glow of a stray bolt. She frowned. “As well as the number of screws you swallowed for lunch.” She added and reached past him for her handy hammer, willing to save what was left of her latest invention.

Speaking of the devil, there was already the thunder of angry footsteps stomping down their way.

“Great.” Today was not her day.

The door burst open and Quirin stormed inside.

“Are you alright?”

As usual, his wife simply waved him off.

“Then what were you thinking?!” He rumbled in a low voice making his anger air. 

Her husband looked pissed and she had to restrain her laughter. It was sweet how he cared and his worry was always flattering, but honestly, it wasn’t that big of a deal. How so often he made mountains out of molehills. And after all, it was not her fault that the tubes were leaking, it came down to bad design, nothing that couldn’t be fixed in the next trial.

“It’s fine. See, we’re even wearing safety gear,” she dodged the question and pointed at Varian’s equipment, a set of goggles and earplugs.

Quirin was having none of it. He knew a diversion when he saw one and the warrior wasn’t willing to drop the topic this time. One day she would end up on the wrong end of an explosion. “Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you,” he folded his arms over his chest. “ You could have been hurt. He could have been hurt.” The thought alone made his blood boil. Why couldn’t she understand? For once he wished she would just listen to him. “And what is it with you and all the baby gear?”

The over-excitable disaster of a woman just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I am the most delicate flower of them all,” she retorted, sarcasm dripping into every word.

“That’s not the point,” Quirin argued. He rubbed his temple, before giving up. “Why am I even bothering?”

“Cause you love us.” She brushed his shoulder in reconciliation as she moved into a crouched position in front of their son. “Big, old, grumpy Quirin loooves uuusss,” she repeated gleefully and squeezed the baby’s chubby cheeks together, squishing them into a funny face.

Again she raided the insides of her toolbox.

“Why -”

“Cause you were totally charmed by me,” she looked up at him and batted her eyelashes mockingly.

“Urgh,” there was just no reasoning with his wife.

“Stop moping and put on your goggles.”

Reluctant he took them out of her hand, ready to build a world they both wanted to be part of. He glanced at Varian, comfortably surrounded by knocked-over flasks and vials. Their content covered him from head to toe.

Quirin’s eyebrows knit together and he was about to open his mouth in protest.

“What? It’s a family heirloom,” she said defensive when his train of thought got too obvious.

“Oh, don’t even start with me.” 

He still seemed not amused, but she could hear the edge of a smile in his voice. “Don’t listen to Mr. Worrywart Varian. The world is our oyster,” she told the baby and ruffled through his unruly black locks.

“What the- You are allergic to shellfish!” Quirin felt the urge to smack his palm against his forehead, but he tended to be stronger than that. “And why does he look like a mess.”

“It isn’t easy to get the hue right.” She smoothed her skirt down. “Relax it’s just color and it’s bath-day anyway.”

“You’re just saying that because it's my turn aren’t you?”

She smirked, “Maybe.”

Varian chose the moment to dip his cookie in the newly created purple goo before putting it in his mouth.

“Is that even save?”

“Absolutely, probably, perhaps…uh, kinda.” She paused for a moment. “I mean the worst that could happen is that he poops rainbow for a couple of days.”

“Poop! Poop! Poop!” Varian babbled.

This time the leader of old Corona didn’t have it in him and full on face-palmed. “Let's get started,” was all he said, while pulling his goggles down, and his wife grinned excited.

.

.

.

5 YEARS LATER:

“Stop. Can you stop for a minute playing with that damn chemical kit?!”

“It was hers…,” Varian sounded small but determined, his eyes turned deviant to the ground.

He is his mother’s son, blessed and cursed equally, Quirin thought and it was too much for him to handle. The man sighed in frustration, “It belonged to your great-great-grandfather.”

“Same difference,” came the boy’s stubborn reply and Quirin knew he should rein back his temper but didn’t.

Chapter Text

He was worried and when he caught his breath he got angry. Angry at the recklessness, at the dismissive attitude, at the pale face. No goggles, no gloves, no - Quirin gritted his teeth. Enough was enough! He wanted to yell and shout but did neither. One too many times he’d done that. Instead, he got quiet, and a dangerous absence of sound infested the forsaken laboratory. There was a fire residing in his bones not even the chill of winter could quell. If this is what it takes to get through to him so be it, he thought as he braced himself for what was to come. It had to go, all of it. He clenched his fists and allowed the heat that had simmered for far too long to flare. His sight was set on the innocently bubbling solutions. As he strode towards them their fate was sealed.

“Dad?” Varian asked eerie. 

Instinctively the boy had shied away from the blazing fury radiating from his father, but now his gaze flickered uncertain between him and their workbench.

Stern silence was Quirin's only reply.

With dread, Varian started to realize what was about to happen. A wave of panic flashed through him as the warrior raised his arm, his expression a hard mask so utterly alien Varian was barely able to recognize him.

“No!” In vain he held onto him, trying to pull him back - prevent the inevitable. “Please don’t!”

The piercing screams of shattering vials filled his ears. More and more joined, crashing and spilling their lives at his feet while his father smashed one after another onto the unforgiving ground.

Varian doubled his efforts as he lunged forward yet again. His nails dug inside the stern fabric of his worn-out clothes and deeper. With all his might he grabbed him, latching at merciless moving limbs, putting all his weight into it. Still, it wasn’t enough. The boy couldn’t do anything.

“You can’t,” he pleaded once more but was roughly shoved aside.

Powerless he had to watch as his dad swept down the table. Each broken beaker felt like losing a part of his soul.

Quirin’s face had turned into a grotesque caricature far from his usual gentle features. The luminescent fluids splattering around them painted dark shadows and highlighted his grim expression. 

Varian struggled for breath. It was the first time he’d been scared - truly afraid of his father. No-one was left to stop him as he continued marching over to the shelves. With cruel precision, he got rid of their contents. He destroyed everything Varian held dear, solutions; instruments; tools; books; -

The world froze. 

For a fraction of a second Quirin’s resolve wavered. He looked past his shoulder at his child’s tear-streaked face and had to steel his heart all over. He’s in the right, he kept telling himself. It’s for his own good. With newfound determination, he reached out to -

“Wait, wait, wait!” Varian begged hysterically, his voice fast and high and desperate. 

Quirin didn’t listen. 

In horror, the boy’s insides constricted when the man approached her notes. His arm hovered useless in mid-air as he yelled, “No! It’s all I have left of-”

Too late. A hurricane of torn-out pages joined the ocean of shards and broken dreams. Right before his very eyes, the ink merged with hissing chemicals, dissolving, it so fast it might as well had never been there in the first place. Varian screamed gut-wrenchingly. It felt like losing her all over again. He couldn’t do a single thing. Just like that, she was gone. No take-backs.

Varian’s heart was pumping agonizingly against his chest. His expression shifted and his small fists were shaking violently as he slammed them against his father’s giant back. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” He chanted frantic and with rising intensity. The Venom and anguish he spat mixed into his words in equal measure. They threaten to consume his very being until he crossed a line never meant to be crossed.

Quirin snapped. He turned around and the back of his hand collided with Varian’s face. It sent the boy flying.

The silence after clung sickly around them. 

In a confusing moment, Varian wasn’t sure what had happened, couldn’t comprehend. Disbelieving fingers trailed the red mark that blossomed on his cheek as he sat there on the cold floor, just another thing tossed away, another unwanted reminder destined to join the pile of her ruined belongings. Tears stung in his eyes and he tried to suppress a sob. The boy looked up at his father, scrunching his face in pain and neither of them knew what to do. Quirin wanted to say something but no sound escaped his mouth. He closed his eyes and his head turned away. Between shock and shame, the anger had vaporized. When he opened them again Varian was gone as well.

He didn’t follow. Paralyzed Quirin stood behind, his mind still foggy and swirling from the screams. Through the haste, he remembered pictures of explosions, the frightening smell of burned hair, and a motionless body. His gaze drifted over her destroyed lab, over all her most treasured possessions, hundreds of little projects filled with love and wonder, now never to be finished. The tight knot in his chest became unbearably heavy. Slowly it dragged him down. Exhausted he gave in and sunk to his knees, his pulsing hand a bitter contrast against the calm stone. He knew he had failed. There was no puffer or safety-net between them anymore, just empty space where she should have been. 

He rubbed over his sore eyes. Somehow he felt like they wouldn’t make it. Varian’s words kept ringing in his head and he couldn’t help but agree. “I wish it had been you.”

.
.
.

High and mighty the sun looked upon him, the harshness of the midday muted by his pain.

His feet dragged through deep snow. There were no footprints. The land was fresh as an empty canvas, vast and wide and covered in icy waves that bent the trees and swallowed everything in its cruel beauty. 

He didn’t see any of it, didn’t know how much time had passed or where he went. Behind him, below him, ahead of him, it was all the same. It didn’t matter which direction he took. With each step, he heard the faint crunch under his feet, dull echos of broken glass. Banished were the brilliant greens of warm summer days his heart yearned for, just to be replaced by an ever-growing numbness spreading from his face. 

The sharp wind whipped and screamed, ultimately drowning the sounds around him. The naked trees shivered yet Varian felt neither the cold nor his frozen tears. 

Chapter Text

With maddening speed, the world was spinning back and forth until it stopped without a warning.

Owlishly the young raccoon blinked. He kept trying to get up but staggered dangerous in the steep snow. Forcing his dazed mind to concentrate, he finally managed to scramble to his feet. One glance at his surrounding told him that his brothers and sisters were safe as well - a tad shaken, though, all in all fine, and he breathed a little bit easier. However, something was amiss. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it, so he did what he had always done when confronted with a problem he wasn’t able to solve yet. He called for his mother.

Once, twice, thrice. No answer. They were alone.

Again and again, his small voice ripped through the air. Anxious chittering morphed into distressed cries, begging her to return. Desperately he scanned the icy wasteland for any sign, his throat tight and raw. The sheer wrongness of the situation was unbearable. A cold feeling settled into his guts as the wild wind changed, merging in with its own screeching howls while all the time gnawing at his thin frame. A wave of relief rushed over him when it also carried her sent. The tiny critter squealed in delight and swiftly followed.

The track ended not far from him. His nose twitched in confusion. He didn’t understand. Where was she? She should have been right h- 

His brain shut down. Black eyes went wide in terror as a flash of fear pierced through his chest. Each step he took forced his heart to beat faster, till it reached a punishing pace. Like thunder, it roared inside him, a cruel contrast to the pitiful whimpers that escaped his mouth. He had found her but what he saw was almost incomprehensible. The sea of glistening diamonds that had washed over the lands way too early, its surface was broken by the tip of gray fur. His mother was trapped, ultimately bound to suffocate beneath the white earth.

He hurried over. Chirping and nudging his forehead against… what was left. There was no response, no sound coming from her, just stillness and the crushing despair that threatened to overwhelm him. Not willing to waste another moment he started digging. He had to get her out!

Feeble claws scratched over the frozen ground. He burrowed them as deep into the ice as he could. To no avail. The white stuff wouldn’t budge. Soft snow had turned to stone under his paws and it was biting back. He wailed in pain. The cold began to burn, though he didn’t halter, just continued with more ferocity. He couldn’t lose her. It was the only truth that existed.

Soon the others joined, but with each passing second, he had the gruesome feeling that it wouldn’t be enough. The snow just wouldn’t give. Again he cried, pleaded for her to move. Nothing.

Suddenly his ears perked up. Footsteps. They were constantly getting louder. Could it be? A human. His breath hitched. He had seen what those beasts were capable of. His siblings scattered into all directions to flee and hide and every instincts screamed at him to do the same.  He didn’t. He couldn’t abandon her. Never. He’ll fight if he had to.

Tortuously slow the faint figure came closer, filling in the shadows. It didn’t seem to be an adult. He hissed and growled. Inwardly he prayed that maybe if he was lucky he could intimidate this human child, so it would leave him alone.

The figure didn’t stop. Of course not. As it came closer and closer, it’s presence became a prickling feeling on his very being. For one last attempt, he gathered his strength. It was all or nothing. Everything he had, everything he was, he put it all into a final effort to free her. He attacked the snow with a viscousness he didn’t think he possessed. Still, he couldn’t even breach through the first few layers of frozen crystals. It was infuriating. He was too weak to do what mattered most. The weight of this knowledge sat heavy and it hurt.

Almost breathless he panted against the stinging air, so lost in his exhaustion that he registered too late that all other sounds had vanished. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight. He twisted around and looked up. Right behind him, silent and tall like a mountain rising into the blue, the human lurked. It was at least 10 times his size and made him feel incredibly small in comparison. Faced with an expression he couldn’t read, the young raccoon bared his teeth and snarled. He was scared but would stand his ground to defend his family, to protect what he loved. He would not give up. In one swift motion, he placed himself between his mother and the threat. 

Red rimmed eyes, clouded and completely vacant, stared into empty space. He wasn’t sure if he even saw him. He didn’t care. There were distressed chitters from his siblings nearby and his heart was trying to escape his rib cage but his attention was fixed on what was in front. His growls mixed in with panic and fear that betrayed his act of bravado.

A hand approached and with no way out he dashed forward before he could have been caught. He bit the curve of it hard, sinking in his sharp teeth, breaking skin, drawing blood, and leaving a red mark shaped like the crescent moon.

The thing didn’t so much as flinch, just turned toward him. With its remaining hand coming down, it reached out and the tiny rodent closed his eyes, readying himself for pain.

Chapter Text

His ears were pressed flat against his skull. His eyes squeezed shut in fear, his body frozen in time. He was afraid and hurt and expected pain, but pain never came. Instead, there was a gentle touch on top of his head. It felt a bit clumsy as inexperienced fingers tousled through his soft fur, still, the intention was clear. Bewildered he opened his eyes and the taste in his mouth turned sour.

The boy glanced over him, his gaze a little less clouded, a little less blank. As if seeing the tiny creature for the first time, he studied him closely. He didn’t seem aware of anything but him, didn’t even noticed the wound his teeth had inflicted nor the red that was spilling over the both of them. The mark he left would be a permanent one, however, neither was backing away.

An odd silence spread from the child, calming his racing heart as the moment stretched. Could it be? He unclenched his jaw to release him. Blood dripped quietly onto snow. The boy crouched down and the raccoon wailed at the promise of hope.

Squishy human fingers drilled themselves into the ice. It was like a miracle to watch the snow give. Relentless nails dug deeper and deeper, staining the white with its ruby trails until it all blurred together. With no regard for the bloody mess they had become, he continued to save her.

The human was helping. He couldn’t believe it. Carefully he observed him and it didn’t take long before he decided to jump in as well.

Together they managed to free enough of her, so the boy was able to pull her out entirely. She hung limp in his arms, cold and unmoving. Experimental he rubbed his trembling hand over her back and chest. His expression closed off, like a curtain was pulled down behind his eyes.

For an eternity there was nothing until her left ear twitched and she slowly blinked. As he hurried to his mother's side he almost fell over himself, pondering whether to climb up the kid's leg or not. Right on cue, he put her down and he was finally able to breathe again. She was unharmed. 

Clinging with everything he had onto her he snuggled in close. Once more he felt something on his head. The child had dropped his coat over the exhausted animals to warm up.

He inhaled. The smell of human surrounded them. He didn’t mind. All he wanted was right here. He felt secure, his heart steady and the cold left his body.

“Varian!?” He heard a distant melody beyond the range of ears but available for the heart - the boy’s name another gift from the north wind.

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Quirin sighed in relief, Varian had found shelter. Sitting there, with arms wrapped around his knees, he looked small and withdrawn, a mirror of his own feelings. Quirin didn’t recognize seeing him like this before, so utterly defeated. The pose seemed somewhat natural and it scared him.

He placed himself next to his son. The moment of stillness hung over them like a Damocles sword.

“I miss her so much,” Varian slurred, his voice weak and raspy. A pitiful sound caught in his throat, while his tense shoulders slumped even further as more tears slid down his face, leaving the sea just a little bit saltier than what it was.

The soldier’s heart crumbled and he needed a minute. He was close to tears himself. The bruise on Varian’s pale skin stuck out like a sore thumb and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch him, uncertain if he would appreciate the gesture or not. But then he found his words, “Me too.”

It was as if a dam had broken. He closed the space between them and tugged his arm over Varian. He was freezing and so was Quirin.

Varian rested his head against his father's side and let the fabric of his clothes absorb his misery. His eyelids kept falling shut. Slowly he was losing the battle to stay awake.

Chapter Text

It was too late. Or maybe too early? Perhaps a bit of both, something in between for sure.

“Urgh,” she groaned and burrowed her head under the pillow. Point was, nobody should be awake at this unholy hour. Dawn wasn’t even close!

Her darling baby boy had other plans. Time didn’t have any meaning for him yet. 

She squeezed her eyes shut and the warmth of the sheets kept soaking through her weary bones. Pretending to not notice the increasing noise wasn’t the most adult approach, but she was not ready to face the day. If she was lucky her husband would take pity on her. He was better at consoling the inconsolable anyway. 

An icy toe nudged against her inner thigh. Damn it. Deceived by those she loved. Incoherently she complained into the mattress and shuffled slightly away. The poking simply continued. 

“It’s your turn,” the love of her life added.

She sighed. Fair enough. He did take care of the last four times. With a final curse, she resigned to her cruel fate and rolled out of bed. Soft thumps accompanied her bare feet on the floorboards which were instantly swallowed by the screeches around.

“There, there. I am here,” she mumbled defeated.

The crib was bathed in divine moonlight and a streak of the newborn's hair glisten otherworldly in a bluish hue.

“Come on little weirdo, daddy needs his rest,” she grumbled.

Together they went downstairs. 

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Quirin tossed and turned. Something was missing, however, his drowsy brain wasn’t quite able to figure out what. Skirting on the edge of sleep he reached to his left. The space was empty. Empty and cold. 

His eyes snapped open. Shadows of passing clouds covered the inky canvas behind the window that let in the chill. Quirin was alone. The knight steeled himself for the crusade to come, his hair on edge as if their home was on enemy side. There was darkness on his back and he couldn’t see.

In the end, he found her sobbing with their wailing child cradled against her chest. Forgotten on the ground sat a stuff-toy next to a children’s tale, a lonesome one. Its pages crumpled and upside down. He placed a spilled baby bottle on the table, making room beside her. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She looked up. The picture they painted left his soul gasping for air. Red eyes filled with tears, exhaustion branded into pale skin and - 

“Quirin?” Her sore voice hitched. “I… He…“ 

How do you light the candle without a match, Quirin wondered.

“He won’t stop. I…” There was a strangled sound to her words that broke his heart. He knew what she was thinking, but if that was true then where did it leave him?

“Hey, hey,” In slow circles his hand rubbed over her shaking frame. She felt like glass beneath his fingers. “It’s okay.” 

Having his most precious treasures in tears was like a slap to the face. 

“Nothing is wrong,” he soothed, but she didn’t look convinced. “Babies cry sometimes.” 

He lifted her chin and pressed their foreheads together. A timid smile formed on her mouth before it disappeared behind a wall of nothingness. Admittedly Quirin wasn’t as in control of the situation as he would like to be so he did the second best thing that came to mind and kissed her. He took but didn’t steal because the second he touched her, she gave him everything. 

The pale morning sang and the sun was rising somewhere and that was good enough. For now, Quirin decided he was both, the match and the candle.

Chapter Text

“Varian, please! Just think about the people of Corona -” her chains rattled in the dark and the alchemist’s face grew grim. Immediately she noticed her mistake. 

“Of Old Corona,” Arianna hurried to correct. “You’re endangering all of them. War -”

“What are you talking about?” Varian interrupted dangerously. The child’s eyes were half-lidded and lined with exhaustion, but his voice cracked like a whip. 

“Look around! There are no people,” he accused louder. A wave of anger rose higher and higher, swallowing his rational thoughts. “The village is deserted. The people left months ago.”

The silence struck like a hammer. Ruddiger chirped beside him, pushing for attention. Varian ignored it.

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The villagers had found him 3 days after. They took him in, brought him food while he’d returned to the loneliness of his laboratory, and offered him shelter when soldiers came for him. He remembered watching everyone he’d ever known, abandoning their homes, packed with all they could carry. They were farmers at heart and Corona got no land to work.  

“We have to go,” a familiar face told him. “I am sorry Varian. We stayed as long as we could.”

The boy’s eyes were cast down to the ground. No matter where he turned, there were only bad options. 

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” He offered once more.

Varian shook his head while muttering,”I just cant leave him behind…”

“I understand son. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” his voice was filled with emotion and he put his hand on Varian’s tense shoulder. “Take care, and if you change your mind you know where to find us.”

“Thanks.” Varian watched them moving towards Corona’s wall, not sure if he would ever see any of them again.

The path back to the house that was illuminated just hours before became lost in a blackness that even moonlight couldn’t help. 

Chapter Text

“Truth or dare?” Yong squeaked over the warmth of their shared campfire. He looked excited - barely able to contain himself. 

Varian grinned while absentmindedly handing Hugo a piece of cupcake. Soft chills went down the thief’s spine and a smile appeared on his lips. Hugo suppressed another shiver. He turned away before anyone could see. His stupid heart started to betray the double agent faster than he wanted to admit. 
  
“Truth,” Varian replied, not wishing to end up like Nuru in her sparkling clown makeup.  

“What’s your greatest weakness?” Yong inquired eager. 

And wasn’t that something Hugo would like to know? Paying particular attention now he munched at his sweet treat. Luckily it was Yong who’d asked the question. Experience taught him there was no better way to pry any kind of information out of Varian than to use Yong as middleman. The clueless pyromaniac only had to bat his puppy-dog-eyes and voila he bypassed all of Varian’s defenses and suspicions. Make no mistake Hugo tried his hardest too, but no amount of tricks worked. He would have given his right leg to figure out the engineer’s secrets. He just couldn’t put a label on him. However, one thing was clear  Varian was hiding something. 

“I guess, I am not good at handling blood,” Varian shrugged his shoulder. “My turn.”

Hugo went over the words many times and came to the conclusion that Varian’s answer was bullshit. Well not bullshit, but rather that he wasn’t sure how to use it to his advantage. ‘Not good at handling blood’ could mean anything, from ‘I feel guilty when I stab you’ till ‘Don’t touch that, it’s gross’. He needed more data. 

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12 days later a chance arrived to verify Hugo’s working hypothesis about the alchemist’s fatal flaw. Who would have thought that getting hit in the head could ever be beneficial? A short scuffle with Donella’s goons was all it took. Ditching princess smartypants had also been surprisingly easy. A shared glance combined with a desperate “Split up!” was enough. Nuru sprinted through the narrow alleys, enemies hot on her heels while Hugo did the same, at least until she was out of sight. Then he stopped, and in the most boring way he could muster gave Cyrus his weekly report, who had listened with an awfully amused glint in his eyes. Very childish, in Hugo’s opinion. But if the smug bastard had seen the collision between Donella’s number one spy and the nearby brick wall he had the decency to keep it to himself. For good measure, Hugo added lots and lots of complaining about the stabbing pain on the side of his head and the immense sacrifice he was forced to make for the job.  

At camp, Varian and Yong were blissfully unaware of today’s troubles. Together they bent over a small table that functioned as a mini outdoor-lab. Their constant chatter felt more and more familiar as Hugo crept closer.

“You are a good kid. Don’t get cocky,” Varian laughed, ruffling through the younger’s hair while continuing to explain something about the importance of safety gear. He was always a stickler for the rules like that. 

His back faced towards him. With a sly smirk, Hugo the human admired the view. He slowed down to make the road last longer. Time for a little experiment of his own.

Ultimately, it was Yong, who saw Hugo first. The boy’s small hands hovered in the air while his attention was abruptly split between the older teen and mixing two chemicals. He must have applied too much of the substance if Varian’s frustrated sigh was anything to go by. Also, the now bubbling fluid slowly expanded which was never good. 

“Hugo! What happened?”

In a well-practiced manner, Varian took the potential time bomb out of Yong’s grip. Hugo exhaled, prematurely as things turned out. 

“Where is Nu-,” the alchemist pushed his goggles up and stopped mid-sentence. His eyes fixed solemnly on the criminal. 

Hugo had never seen the other look at him like that. If he hadn't known any better he’d say Varian was checking him out. That sounded wrong. All of a sudden he became hyper-aware of how wet the left side of his temple really felt and just how his clothes, in general, were kinda soaked. 

“Relax pipsqueak. It’s not as bad as it seems.”

Yong showered him with words, occupying his attention. Unsurprisingly not many of them stuck. What stuck was the smell. Hugo noticed it immediately. Skin and acid and smoke. He would never forget. Chemicals spilling out of the beaker, gloves burning and blisters forming on delicate fingers.  

“What the fuck!” Hugo smacked the glass out of  Varian’s hands. He was shaking with fury.

Varian didn’t notice. He was pale. His gaze unblinking and far away. From one second to the next his trembling body went limp. His knees gave out and with a dry hit, Varian collapsed. 

“Varian!” Yong screamed. Hugo’s own vulnerability and desperation mirrored on his face.

Motionless he lay on the ground among the shards. For a terrifying moment Hugo thought…he… A wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm him and then he didn’t think at all. Scared and frantic and desperate he clung to Varian. He shook his shoulder yelling at him to open his eyes till his hand finally grabbed the other's wrist and he could breathe again. 

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The campfire crackled once more. This night though its light was dimmed by the shadows of the earlier event. 

Yong was quiet. Aside from the almost inaudible whispered, “I am sorry. I should have listened. The chemicals … I messed up,” he hadn’t said a word, his posture stiff and tense. He looked unbelievingly small as he sat on the lodge next to Hugo. 

Nuru on the other hand couldn’t keep still. She paced back and forth, unable to find any solace whatsoever. “I shouldn’t have abandoned you,” she told him over and over. “If it weren’t for me you never would have been hurt in the first place and Varian...,” her voice broke.  

It was ridiculous. Hugo didn’t understand. Why was everyone so willing to take the blame? Even Varian’s first instinct had been to apologize as soon as he’d opened his eyes. Ruddiger had stayed curled up by his owner’s side, providing his own warmth and comfort. In the end, the other had brushed it off. “It's nobody’s fault,” he’d scratched his neck and gave a sharp gasp of pain when his burned flesh reminded him that it indeed needed rest. 
 
Except it was. Hugo shrank back, breath hitching, halfway between a sob and a hiss. His own injury twinged. It was clearly his fault. He did this on purpose.

Chapter Text

What was she doing? What were they doing? Oh god, what am I doing?! Catalina freaked, hiding deeper in the shadows. She shouldn’t be here. Eavesdropping on them like that was stupid, but her legs had other plans. They felt like they were glued to the ground. 

It was supposed to be a quick errand into the city. Nothing more. Nothing special. Hanging out with Varian was always just a little extra. 

She should say something. Since when was she such a coward?   

The boy laughed. A faint blush covered his face while his azure eyes shone brighter than the stars. Catalina’s chest constricted painfully and she pressed her back harder against the wall. The princess’s arm was around him, touching him ever so familiar.  

“Amazing!” Varian moaned with a joyous smile.“Love it!” He put another piece of chocolate into his mouth and Rapunzel smiled satisfied. 

What’s wrong with me? Seeing Varian happy wasn’t a bad thing, the thief reminded herself over and over, yet…  

“Is there anything you can’t do?” The teen asked with a cheeky grin in his voice. 

Catalina couldn’t hear Rapunzel’s reply she was too distracted by the fingers tousling through Varian’s dark hair, and the princess leaning down kissing him. 

For a moment the world got blurry before finally her feet had mercy and allowed her to run.       

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"Catalina!" Rapunzel's voice echoed over the market. Excited she waved her hands while moving closer.

"We did it!" She pulled the girl into a giant bear-hug, swinging her around like her favorite rag doll. "We did it! The annual art contest, we won!"

Catalina took a stuttering breath. She tried to relax, but her body felt stiff and awkward. 

"Thanks for all your hard work!" The future queen finally released her and started rummaging through her bag. "I got you something." 

A small packet came to light. It was wrapped in expensive-looking paper with an adorable bow on top. She shoved it right into Catalina's hands.

"I don't want it. I am good," she mumbled not able to meet Rapunzel’s eyes.

"What? I didn’t quite catch that." The princess looked concerned, and her grin wavered.

"I,” She couldn’t. “I… thank you. This wasn't necessary." Catalina smiled big and fake and felt like crying. She was such a pushover. 

"I, uhm, I have to go." With the tail between her legs, she took off, leaving a very confused princess behind.

"Did I do something wrong?" Rapunzel wondered.

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Catalina growled and the nearest onlookers jumped out of her way. It didn't make sense. Why was it bothering her so much? She turned sharp to the left and stomped through a narrow alley, all the while clutching at the princess’s present. Innocent it weighed down on her heart. 

Abruptly she stopped and glared at the damn thing, before throwing the chocolate into the trash. She was such an ugly girl.
 

Chapter Text

"Have you seen Varian?" Angry asked, casually popping her head through the open door.

"He’s probably off somewhere eating chocolate," her sister sulked. There was no fire in her voice just a dull ache. 

"You're still hung up on that?" She didn’t get what the fuss was all about. 

"I am not," Catalina replied, but wouldn't look her in the eyes.

"She kissed him." Catalina clenched her fist.

"So what?" It was weird to see her so stressed out about basically nothing. "It doesn’t count, wasn’t even on the lips."

"Whatever," the young girl muttered and continued nurturing the foul mood she harbored for the past couple of days. Kiera wouldn’t understand. 

 "You know, if you're that upset why not do something about it?"

"Like what?"

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“Huh? What’s that?” Lance leaned over his pair of troublemakers, taking a closer look. A chill went down his spine. “Are you trying to kill someone? Trust me there are kinder ways to do it.” 

Angry kicked him against his shin.

“Uhm,” Catalina stuttered. “I asked Attila to teach me how to bake.” Gloomy she looked at the burned mess in front. 

“Why?”

“Sorry I am late.” Well-timed as always Varian suddenly entered the picture and Catalina went pale.

“What? Who invited him?”

Angry giggled at her panicked expression.

“Don’t look!” She shrieked covering her failed experiment.

Too late.

“Urgh, are those Cupcakes?” Varian questioned.

“Catalina made them all by herself,” the youngest Schnitz jumped in. 

Catalina flushed red in embarrassment. Where was a pit when you needed one?

For a split second, Varian glanced at her flustered expression. He took a deep breath, bracing himself, and put one of the burned piles of dough into his mouth. Hastily he swallowed before his body could protest. 

“Oi!”

The alchemist made a face as if he just bit into a lemon. “Bah!” He stuck out his tongue, instinctively trying to get rid of the foul flavor. “Oh wow, this was awful. They taste just like they look.”

“I know that already!” Catalina growled, hugging herself. “You weren’t supposed-”

“Can’t wait for the next batch!” 

Her eyes widened and her head snapped up. A smile stretched over the alchemist’s lips, easy and kind and utterly perfect. Somehow all the light seemed to be drawn to him. Varian wouldn’t notice, her pulse sped up, right now he had only eyes for her. 

“Idiot,” she said, hiding her heated face in her hands. All she could pray for was that he would see one day through her lying heart.

Chapter Text

“We need to talk.” 

Nothing ever good followed those four words and Hugo wasn’t arrogant enough to believe he was the exception to the rule. To his credit though, he was the one that said them. So if the universe had a shred of mercy left, maybe, just maybe, it would spare his poor soul the drama. 

“Sure,” Varian replied. 

When Hugo kept quiet the teen stopped bandaging the cut on his upper arm and looked suspiciously at him. 

Oh the irony, Hugo thought bitter.

“Is this about the last trial? I told you I am -”

“No. I mean, I was clearly in the right, but, uh, no.” Hugo's boots became suddenly very interesting. “It’s about the woman from earlier…”  

“Oh.” Varian tilted his head. “The one that attacked us? Dorella?”

“Donella,” he corrected. “Do you know anything about her? Who she is? What she wants?” He clenched his fists. “Why she was there?” This had not been part of the plan, and it still startled him to his core. To think of her being near Varian. Of them talking.   

“No. Do you?” For the first time, Varian’s voice wavered as if he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to this particular question.

“I…” Hugo paused. This was why he was here, right? He needed to tell him the truth. That they were in danger. That Donella would stop at nothing to get to the library, and that he was here to help her. At least in the beginning. But things changed. He changed. They changed him.  He didn’t want Varian to be hurt. He didn’t like Yong crying, and couldn’t stand Nuru’s screams. They were his friends. Yet she was family. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Varian shrugged. “Time will tell.” 

“Yeah.” He remembered him saying the same words a lifetime ago.

Hugo didn’t manage to meet his eyes and did what he does best. Distract. Run. Hide. “So what’s up with you becoming a mummy hair-stripe?" 

Varian scoffed. “As if you could do any better.”

“Scoot over, princess,” the older boy sighed overly dramatic. “Ever heard of something called disinfection? Seriously how are you still alive?” He muttered, already taking care of Varian’s injury.

“I have good friends,” the alchemist smirked pleased. “Also, I am very good at dealing with grumpy nurses.” 

“What - Wait I don’t wanna know.” Hugo shook his head and Varian’s laughter filled his heart. He didn’t deserve the warmth spreading through him, not when his inevitable betrayal was just around the corner. Still, Hugo was greedy by nature. Ever had been. Maybe that’s why he leaned closer when he was done with his handy work, or maybe it was because of the lovely blue orbs blinking up at him through thick lashes - people usually didn’t look at him like that. Either way, he placed his lips over Varian's. A thief through and through.    
   
“Not grumpy,” he heard himself murmur. He was going for sexy, but could already feel the second wave of Varian's laughter bubbling against his skin. He upped his game or else he would have died due to all the fuzzy feelings he neither wanted nor knew what to do with.

Varian’s face flushed nicely as Hugo deepened his kiss. 

“See, I even kissed it better.”

“Lucky me,” somehow the alchemist still managed to have the last word, before happily continuing with their little make-out session.

It was Hugo’s turn to smile. He was the perfect distraction. 

Chapter Text

“Missed me?” Hugo grinned at the two hopeless idiots in front of him. Their expressions of disbelief were priceless. 

“You!” The youngest found his words first. 

“Let me join your group. You’ll never make it without me,” Hugo announced after he’d tossed the totem back to the teen with the goggles on top. 

“What? No way we gonna trust you!” The little firecracker beside him exclaimed. “What’s in it for you?” Accusingly the child pointed his chubby finger at him.    

“Strength in numbers I’ll guess,” Hugo smirked.

“As if!”

Suspicious little brat. But that was fine. Hugo shrugged, it wasn’t the kid from the fire kingdom he needed to convince. No. He focused his attention on the freckled cutie across and forced a smile on his face. He just needed a chance. One small spark to latch on to and he’ll crawl his own way out of the hole he dug himself earlier today. All he had to do was - 

“Do as you please,” Goggles said, his voice strangely neutral.

Yong’s mouth dropped and so did Hugo’s. 

“Varian?! You can’t be serious after what he just did - he stole the totem! Our totem.”  

Hugo rolled his eyes, ready to defend himself and work his magic. 

“He gave it back though,” Varian stated and Hugo blinked. 

What was wrong with the guy! This was his line. Why was he doing all the work for him? Did he get a kick out of pulling the rug from under his feet and watching him land on his butt? Suddenly Hugo felt two blue orbs staring at him. They saw right into his very being. He knows, it shot through his head. Hugo took a step back. This would never work, there was no chance he could ever fool -

“Time will tell who you really are,” Varian told them ominously. 

Was this a threat? Anyhow he wouldn’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. “Great! Glad we came to an understanding.” Hugo put on the charm, doing what he did best. Distraction and deception were his birthrights after all. “Hugo, by the way.” In one swift swoop, he mockingly bowed down. 

Visibly taken aback the teen replied, “I am Varian. This is Yong.” 

Hugo grinned at his startled reaction. At least something. “Nice to meet you again. The pleasure is all yours.” 

Varian groaned at the lame joke. 
 
“So what’s with the weird hair-stripe?” Unperturbed, Hugo went on to make himself comfortable among them as the small group continued on their merry way, one more person in tow.

The alchemist regretted all the life choices that lead him to this disaster. He knew a headache when he saw one. Wasn’t this supposed to be a solo adventure?     
 

Chapter Text

Hugo passed another sleeping guard on his way to the dungeon. 

The moment Donella had cornered them he knew he’d made a horrible mistake. Nice work, she had praised, yet all he felt was the cold when he saw the shock and betrayal on his friends' faces - at least Yong’s and Nuru’s. He hadn’t had the courage to look Varian in the eye, could only imagine the anger and resentment reflected in them.   

He hates you and he will never forgive you. You lied to him, you betrayed him. The little voice in his brain that sounded like Donella just wouldn’t shut up. What are you doing? You were never one of them. Turn around. Nobody has to know. 

Hugo clenched his fist and focused on the stinging sensation of pain that washed over his palm. Ruddiger hadn’t appreciated his treatment - the cage they put him in was tiny and far away from the rest of the group - and neither did the little rodent care for the hand that freed him. 

He took a long breath. He could never make it up to them, but at least he had to try. 

Thief. Liar. Traitor. Deeper and deeper he went down the rabbit hole. 

“Did you know?”

The voice echoing from the stone walls dripped with fury. Surprisingly it belonged to Nuru. He had never heard her sound like this. 

“I didn’t know the details.”

Hugo stopped dead in his track. Varian. Calm, collected... guilty? His heart pounded faster.  What was going on? He pressed his frame against the entrance of the hallway and carefully peeked around the corner. There they were. Safe and sound. He exhaled. Varian’s back was turned towards him, Yong sat on the ground, hugging his knees, and Nuru - Nuru was beyond good and evil.      

“I asked: Did. You. Know?” She was tearing up in her frustration, he could hear it in her voice. 

“Yes.”

She took a step back, her gaze low, hushing from left to right and back again so fast he couldn't follow. Lifting her head, she'd reached her conclusion. She slapped Varian directly across his face. 

Hugo’s jaw dropped, but he didn’t move out of the shadows. Couldn’t.  

“You knew!!! You selfish Asshole! You knew from the very beginning!!!” 

Her accusation filled the silence of their cell. A mask of pain replaced her usual docile features, taking over like a sickness spreading from within and Hugo was the poison responsible. He'd caused this.

“My kingdom, my people, they all depend on me! Why did you let him stay if you knew?” Nuru lashed out. The dam had finally been broken. 

Varian, who so far hadn’t responded - just staring at his feet, couldn’t hold back either. His temper flared in the context of their surrounding.

“Because he did nothing wrong!!!” He yelled, close to losing it himself. “Not once.”

She glared daggers at him. “You can’t be serious.”

But Varian was putting his foot down, taking a stance for... him? Honestly, Hugo didn’t know what to do or think. 

“He could have taken the freaking totems at any point. Heck, he could have just went straight for the stupid journal and be gone.” He threw his arms in the air. “But he didn’t. Yes, he is a liar and spouts empty threats wherever he goes, trying to sound tough. Yet all he ever did was help us!” 

Hugo blinked. 

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.” Nuru hissed. “We are here because of him.” She always gave as good as she got, if not better.  

“We are here because of Donella,” Varian argued. 
 
“Oh please, he knew what he was doing,” she cut right through his bullshit.  

The alchemist laughed. “What choice truly was there for him? Not all of us are born with a silver spoon in our mouth." 

Ouch. Hugo had never seen Varian shoot that low. He didn’t understand. He rarely felt so out of the loop. What was happening?

Thank god, Nuru always found the right words. 

“Why are you defending him?” In one smooth move, she hit the nail on the head.

That’s what it was, right? Varian defending him. He’d known Varian to be fiercely protective of his friends but even against them? He wasn’t worth it. 

For a moment the boy kept quiet. In the dim moonlight, Hugo could see the tense lines of his back. Usually, he was not appreciative of being talked about. However, he bit his tongue because he'd like to know the answer, as well. If it was true, if Varian had known from the start, had known that he was a double agent the whole time, working for Donella, lying to them then... why? Why had he let Hugo be part of their team in the first place?
  
“Intend isn’t action.” Varian’s voice was sharp as steel. “You can’t condemn people just for having intrusive or negative thoughts, your highness. Especially, when you know what they are going through,” he continued icy. “You can only condemn them for their actual actions. Hugo never hurt any of us.” His answer was final, there was no anger left, just exhaustion clinging to his words.

“But he did, didn’t he?” The princess's voice turned soft, almost kind. It wasn’t fair.      

Oh so gently, she touched Varian’s shoulder. When he failed to answer her question Hugo felt the bile rise in his throat. She was right. 

Varian shoved her hand off of him and Hugo strangely relaxed. Suddenly he turned around, facing the bars while scrubbing over his burning eyes. Hugo desperately wanted to wrap his arms around him, apologize, make it up to him, swear that he’ll be better.

“I,” Varian sounded defeated and Hugo hated everything about it. 

“Let's get out of here,” the alchemist said, his eyes back on the ground - after all, this wasn’t his first rodeo. 

Chapter Text

“Wow, you went to prison?!” Yong exclaimed far too excited by Varian’s admission. “How was it?” He asked with the sense of tact only a 12-year-old could get away with.

Old Corona’s leader tensed and the pub went a tad quieter. 

Had Quirin not been listening in on the conversation he might have missed the subtle changes around him, the way the king and queen averted their eyes, or how the former captain’s grip clutched tighter around his drink while the guards shifted uneasily in their seats. 

Yeah. Not the best topic for a relaxed evening with friends and family. Yet deep down, Quirin also wanted to know. 

It wasn’t that Varian was hiding things from him. He’d told him all about his deeds when trying to free him, and the mishaps with the Saporians, however… his time in the dungeons remained mostly a mystery, only mentioned in passing or brushed off in an accessory sentence.         
Quirin himself hadn’t had the courage to bring up the topic - afraid of the potential minefield he’d step into. He wasn’t sure he could handle it. The mental image of his son down there made his blood boil on the best of days. So he held his tongue, like everyone else. He hated it. Varian was not some dirty secret to be swept under the rug. Yet Quirin felt like just another person stepping on it and ignoring the filth underneath.

Lifting his own mug, he took a big gulp of his drink. He’ll talk when he is ready, Quirin reminded himself. It sounded more and more like an excuse for his own feeble mind rather than being a real solution. Varian may never be ready to share -   

“Hm, kinda boring I guess,” Varian mused casually. “Lots of sitting around and thinking. Like being grounded just worse.”
 
The kid from the fire kingdom made a disappointed face, pestering his idol for more information. 

“Honestly, I don’t remember much,” Varian shrugged. A lot of the details were either lost or a little bit off - a thankful blur. There were snippets of conversation with Queen Arianna, the face of the captain, Ruddiger. And then there was Andrew. The memories of him and their prisonbreak most clearly.  

Yong looked worried and Varian smoothened his own frown. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he assured with a smile as he tousled the boy's hair.  

Chapter Text

He pressed himself into the shadows, desperately waiting for a sound, fighting, screaming - anything resembling a diversion. The Automaton should have come to life 10 minutes ago, yet no guard had left their post. His gaze strayed to his small companion at his feet. 

Varian gritted his teeth. 

“Hey, bud.” The boy crouched down, scratching slow circles behind his furry friend’s ears. 

“Remember last harvest festival with the big maze?” He asked. 

Ruddiger tilted his head to grand him better access, which earned him a weak smile. He smelled conflicted. 

“You, um, ate lots of popcorn.”

The tiny raccoon chirped and scooched closer. It had been a fun day.   

“I’ve… developed something similar to the fertilizer we used.” His hand was slightly shaking. “Not for plants though.”  

Two charcoal eyes blinked up at him, coupled with a flick of his tail. That usually did the trick. 

“Don’t worry I worked out all the kinks.” There was way too much certainty in his voice. “I… It’s as safe as it gets, only lasts for a little while. Just long enough. That’s all.” 

The boy bit his lips. A vial with liquid moonlight appeared between his fingers. He took a deep breath. 

“I am sorry,” the alchemist said before dripping it on the back of the raccoon’s neck. The words rang empty as he retreated further into the dark.   

Chapter Text

Hi,

sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know that due to the rather long word count of 'A Diamond in the Rough' I decided to put it up as a separate story. Some light editing needs to be done, but otherwise, it is finished.       

Chapter Text

“Did you hear?” The girl asked in a high-pitched voice. “He’s so dreamy!” 

“So handsome,” another joined in.  

“So mysterious!” 

“Kyaaa!!!” All three females squealed in delight. 

“Ladies please,” Eugene smirked as he passed by. “There is enough of me for all of you - though I must warn you I am a taken man.” He threaded a hand through his perfectly sitting hair and tossed a sexy glance over his shoulder. At least in his mind, it was sexy.  

The group of over-excitable maids looked confused at him. 

“Pff,” Cassandra snorted. “They are not talking about you Fitzherbjerk.” She jumped down the railings of the large, pompous, marble staircase and did a flip just to piss him off even more. 

“Don’t you know hot stuff, there is a new sheriff in town.”

The girls squealed once more.

“What?”

“They say he’s a knight traveling from kingdom to kingdom in search of an escaped prisoner.”

Eugene frowned.  

“Tall, handsome, and oh god those eyes!!!” The girls continued to swoon over the mysterious stranger. “Marry said she almost fainted when he smiled at her!”

“She’s so lucky!”

“Right!!!” 

“This is ridiculous,” the former thief muttered displeased.  

“Jealous?” Cassandra teased.

“As if!” Eugene gave a dismissive wave of his hand and turned his face away. He crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You did not meet this fancy ‘knight’ by any chance?”

Cassandra bit her lips to suppress her gleeful cackles. “Well,” She inspected her fingernails to prolong Eugene’s suffering. She knew he was burning up inside. “Just a glimpse.” 

At the memory, a little smile crept on her face. 

“Dark hair, porcelain skin. Very nice bicep. And if I’m not mistaken - and I never am - he’s a couple of inches taller than you.” 

Eugene’s hands tightened into fists while the swooning increased yet again at her description. 

“I wouldn't push him off the edge of my bed if you know what I mean.” She waggled her brows.

“Cassandra, gross!” 

The daughter of the guard's captain shrugged ready to move on with her life. “If you’re lucky you might meet him at the market.”

“No thanks, I am not that insecure!” Eugene yelled after her. 

One last time Cassandra turned around before she left. Her eyes shimmered with mischievousness. “You know, Raps was staring too.”

Chapter Text

For the past two weeks, Eugene made an effort to go to the market whenever he could. An effort, because he had to be sneaky. Cass would never let him live it down if she knew.  

As always, the streets were busy and full of people. In his former profession, this would have been paradise, but now, on the other side of the spectrum, it was beyond frustrating. In the chaos, it seemed hopeless to find a specific person, let alone one you never met. 

“Urgh!” He pushed himself off the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. This was ridiculous. What on earth was he even doing? 

About to give up, a dark shimmer caught his eye. The former criminal jerked his head in the direction of one of the smaller shops far along the large main road.  

There he was. A crimson cape hugged his shoulders, while the blackish armor plates were ready to protect him from any harm. His face was half obscured by a helmet, however even it couldn’t hide his high cheekbones nor the soft raven curls. 

The figure leaned over the counter and his slender fingers pointed at something impossible to see. 

Cassandra was right, it flashed through his mind, he was a little taller than him. Not by much - but enough to notice. 

The thief gulped. All in all, the man looked less like a knight and more like a prince. He felt a knot forming in his stomach, and his throat went dry.

The other crocked his head. There, for the briefest of seconds, their eyes met, and he had to take a step back at just how blue they were. His heart accelerated. He couldn’t breathe - completely trapped in the moment. 

The spell was broken when the knight averted his gaze. 

Some coins were exchanged and Eugene would have given anything to hear the sound of his soft chuckle as the merchant’s wife smacked her husband on the back of his head. She thrust a little brown bag into his hands and the man gave a curt bow.  

Before Eugene had half a mind to squeeze through the crowd to get a better look he was gone.

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The princess’s fiance rummaged through the castle, muttering to himself like a madman.

“I see you found him.” 

Eugene bit his lips and Cassandra laughed.

“Not as straight as you thought you were, huh?”

“Shut up,” he replied, properly freaking out in his full-on Bi Crisis.

Chapter Text

A dense cage of smoke surrounded him. 

He clutched his chest as he was forced to his knees. 

The world spun. What was up and what down, he could barely remember. The kid closed his eyes real tight and tried to stifle his panic. There wasn’t enough air. 

In the back of his mind, he heard a voice. It called his name, saying something about safety, about explosions, about… He didn’t care. He was burning. He was freezing. He was suffocating under the weight of his father’s armor. 

Varian ripped off the helmet. Immediately the cold wind hit his face as the purple wall around him dissolved and vanished into the wayward forest. 

One stuttering breath followed the next.

“It’s okay.” The tone of his voice was as jagged as broken glass. 

The tiny raccoon chirped and the frantic drumming of his heartbeat ebbed down. 

“I’m fine,” he lied and the scratching on his pale skin stopped. 

Finally, he unclenched his fists to pet Ruddiger’s head - if only to hide his trembling fingers. 

It took him a moment to organize his thoughts and the shaky smile slipped from his face. This was close. Too close. Hopefully, it had to be his last trip to the city. No vendor would sell anything to the boy who had attacked their princess, and with guards everywhere it was only a matter of time before they found him.

He looked down and hesitated. He knew he should put away the foreign pieces of metal his dad used to wear when he was younger, yet he wasn’t ready. He felt dizzy and drained and the thought of shouldering them all the way back seemed impossible. 

Soon it would be over, he told himself as he stood up. For a dangerous moment, he swayed on his feet and nearly fell again. 

He gritted his teeth, bracing himself as best as he could. 

“I got this.” 

Chapter Text

They don’t listen. They never do. And now there’s a child in the dungeon.

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You take his gloves and apron, the goggles as well, even though you are not sure what to do with them. 

With more force than necessary, they shove him inside the barred cell. Like a doll whose strings have been severed, he falls to the ground. Still and motionless, he lies there, gazing off into the distance. He is so painfully young.  

Hours pass. He’s still in the same position as they left him, and you doubt that will change soon. 

Gradually, the damp stone takes its toll. He doesn’t seem to notice, but the raccoon shivers so he moves - sits up for the critter to snuggle down into his lap as if it belongs there. 

Your heart clenches as you watch them. Their sadness is contagious. 

The next day you call in sick. And the day after too, just to be sure.

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In a way, it’s the easiest shift. Nice food, nothing much to do or to complain about. You’ve got your deck of cards and a comfy chair. Things could be worse. You take the untouched food and force a smile on your lips when the queen arrives. Idly, her chatter bounces off the walls while you munch on the baked goods she brought. 

In a way, it’s the hardest shift. It makes you question what you stand for. Trapped in this dark hole, he slowly withers away, his skin pale, his hair dull. As a guard, you swore to save and protect. To help. You promised to be just and good, to do right. The truth is now a lie. You take another bite and continue your watch over the dying child. It is your duty. 

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They say the dungeons eventually break you. It’s only a matter of time. You almost laugh. Surprisingly, that’s not the problem. You know better. He was broken to begin with, dead before his arrival. It’s hilarious - they brought in a damn corpse. What they don’t understand is that just because the kid is breathing doesn’t mean he’s alive. 

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Sometimes you imagine taking him home, wrapping him in thick blankets till the warmth comes back to his eyes. It’s a nice fantasy, makes you feel special to be the one able to resurrect his frozen heart - to heal him, and put the pieces back together. In the end, you never take the key. Never open the door. Your games of make-believe are over as soon as your shift is finished and you never feel more ashamed. 

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Today is different. There is a nervous energy. It spreads throughout the whole dungeon. As you step into the corridor and greet your fellow guards, they hand you the keys without a single word. You switch places, waiting for the ball to drop. 

The raccoon is not in his lap and the boy is back on the floor, curling in on himself. The animal keeps its distance. You do too.   

You can hear his shaky breathing, smell the faint scent of copper clinging to the air, see his trembling fingers. 

He studies you with weary eyes. You are not sure what happened, yet your gaze drifts back to the bruises around his delicate wrists. You should say something but you don’t.   

You’ve done your time and hand back the keys. They jiggle and the boy’s whole body flinches. It makes your stomach turn.

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Three days in a row it smells of copper. On those days there is no tray of food to remove. He gets more and more terrified whenever someone approaches. When the queen finds out she is livid. Finally, you think. 

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You still don’t know what they did. But you notice how quiet the captain has gotten. His eyes beg not to ask and you don’t really want to know.

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He is not in his usual spot under the window. For a second you think he escaped. You don’t know what to do with the sudden feeling of relief that washes over you, but then your eyes adjust and you find him - a small shadow in the furthest corner. For the first time, he looks like he doesn’t want to be here. You are not sure if this is good or bad. You just know that you don’t want him to be here either.

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The nightmares start. Whimpers and quiet moans were nothing new, but now there are screams. You come to dread sleep as much as he does.

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Things slowly return to normal. Again he sits in the embrace of the moonlight. The raccoon is allowed back in his lap - allowed to touch him again. The familiarity of the scene lets you relax, though his eyes remain empty. You’re like two ships passing in the night, aware of each other and their lives, but nothing more. 

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One of these days the captain comes down and the air shifts. The apathy in his eyes is gone, replaced by sheer panic. He follows his every move, while the older man goes to great lengths not to look at him. He exhales when the captain leaves, and so do you. 

You watch as he pulls his knees up and buries his face into soft gray fur. Never in your whole life did you want to hug someone so badly. Of course, you don’t. But you vow to never have children of your own.

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It has been months and you have only heard him speak once. To say you are kinda dumbstruck when you hear him ask the queen about the maid that fell out of a tree two weeks ago is an understatement. 

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They send you away when the storm hits and after. Fixing the dungeons takes priority. 

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The next time you stand guard, you find yourself watching over the entrance of a tower. Your eyes narrow, as the little raccoon on your feet claws at the heavy wood. The captain is gone. You can’t hear anything. If you squint your eyes you can almost see the silhouette at the bars of the window high on top. You stretch your arms up, fingers spreading toward the sun. Ultimately, you have to look away from the sky. It makes no difference. 

The queen enters and something has changed inside her. She wears a smile as she takes the endless steps up. You feel the dread in your bones when she comes down and it’s still there. The door snaps close. She locks it so very naturally while the plate she carries is empty. 

You still have the key. It sits heavily over your heart. It’s not too late, you think. You could still do it. Just do it! 

You never use it. 

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You decide you can’t be part of this any longer, not because it’s true but because it’s right. You quit the guard and leave the cursed lands of Corona behind. It’s for the best.