Chapter Text
Today was the day! Varian felt it deep in his bones, today would end in success. He had spent several days sketching blueprints, compiling materials, getting excited, forgetting to sleep, and carefully assembling the prototype. Now it was time to test it out. Holding his breath, Varian lit the candle beneath the cloth stretched across a wire frame that had been inspired by the floating lanterns. As the air the balloon contained heated up, it started to drift sideways, dragging the little woven basket that had taken an annoyingly long time to make in its wake. Varian picked up a sleeping Ruddiger, who wasn't particularly pleased to be woken up, and held him close, optimism giving way to nerves. The prototype inched closer and closer to the edge of the table, agonizingly slowly. Finally it tipped over the edge, wobbled in the air for a moment, then crashed down, unable to support its own weight.
“No…” Varian dropped down on his knees for a better look at the damage. Melting wax dripped from mangled wires onto the floor, and the cloth smoked from various little black holes pockmarking its surface.
Ruddiger squirmed out of Varian’s grip and scampered over to the failed attempt. Scared that the racoon would burn his paws, Varian grabbed a ready bucket of water his father insisted he have on hand after the backyard fire, and poured it on his creation. The flames spluttered and died, the cloth soaked up the liquid, and flopped limply, leaving the prototype looking pathetic.
“Well” he said to himself, “it’s not the end of the world. I'll just try again!”
He could swear Ruddiger gave him an exasperated look from the floor.
“Hmph,” Varian huffed.
So, things that he needed to tweak; the flames needed to be hotter in order to heat the air enough so that the balloon would support its own weight. The cloth should be some semblance of fireproof and waterproof, because it would be a disaster if once the balloon was high up it caught fire, or got rained on. On that note, the way it was now, it would just drift aimlessly unless there was wind, there needed to be some kind of way to steer…
Varian sat at his desk, grabbed a quill, and started feverishly adding footnotes and amendments to his sketches, tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth.
“Son” a rough voice interrupts Varian’s musings. Quirin stood at the top of the stairs down into the lab looking extremely uncomfortable, like he'd rather be anywhere else. “I wanted to apologize for being too harsh the other day. I've been incredibly stressed lately,” he grimaced. “But I am sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it Father, it’s fine” Varian ignored the twisting in his stomach, forcing a smile “I appreciate it.”
His father nodded jerkedly, and, turning abruptly, left. Varian listened to Quirin’s footsteps fade before looking back at his equations, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. Instead he watched Ruddiger play with the wreckage of his prototype for a few minutes, at least someone was getting satisfaction out of his failure. He sighed and tipped sideways, falling out of his chair to lay on the floor. Ruddiger looked at him.
“I’m fine,” Varian sighed again. “Interacting with father can just be draining sometimes. Also, lack of success has a way of making me lose my motivation. But I won't let that stop me.'' A surge of determination made him sit up. “I’ll get it right eventually. Failure is part of the process after all.” He clenched his jaw and raised his chin. “I got this.”
He'd make his family proud.
“Got what?” someone said right behind him, making him jump. “Also why are you on the floor?”
“Cass!” He scowled at her laughter, but softened when she smirked at him, genuinely happy to see her earlier than expected. At the foot of the stairs stood a freckled brunette smiling at their antics.
“Hi!” Varian was always glad to meet new people even if he rarely left the house. “Are you a friend of Cass’? She doesn't have many of those.” He gave his sister a shit eating grin.
“People usually disappoint you,” Cass raised a brow. “I prefer to reserve my judgement until they prove trustworthy.” She snickered. “Ask Raps, I was such a jerk to her in the beginning, but she won me over.”
Raps? No way-
“Your highness” Varian bowed. “My apologies, I didn't realize-”
“Oh it's fine” the princess hurried to reassure him. “I actually like it when people dont treat me differently than everyone else.” She extended her hand. “I'm Rapunzel.”
He shook her hand. “Varian. It's nice to meet you, your hi- i mean, Rapunzel.”
She beamed at him, then looked at him curiously. ”You’re really an alchemist? I've never met one before, this is so exciting!”
He relaxed, grinning back at her. “Well I've never met royalty before, so I guess it's a new experience for both of us.”
“Well,” Cass interrupted the budding of their potential friendship, “I've met both already, and we're here because it is kinda urgent, so…”
“You know what they say about all work and no play.” he snarked.
“That does describe Cass pretty well sometimes.” Rapunzel giggled. Varian blinked, pleased by her reaction.
“It was a mistake letting the two of you meet,” his sister groaned. “I should have known the two of you would gang up on me.”
Rapunzel giggled again.
Varian was curious, “Well anyway, what's so urgent that you would come visit me on a work day?”
“Does it count as work if I'm helping the princess, but it's against the king’s wishes?” Cass wondered.
“I'm pretty sure that counts as treason, actually.” At the look on Rapunzel’s face, Varian added “only joking.”
“... I knew that.”
The siblings gave her identical flat looks.
“Anyway,” Cass cleared her throat, “it goes without saying that you shouldn’t tell anyone about us dropping by. His royal overprotectiveness would flip if he knew we snuck out to Old Corona.”
“Right, so, why are you here again?”
"We're trying to understand some weird magic shit. You must've heard about the coronation 'miracle' by now."
Varian nodded.
"So that was Cass's doing" Rapunzel chimed in.
He froze. "Wait, what?"
His sister snorted "Yeah, exactly what the witch's daughter needs to be associated with; compromising the structural integrity of the palace's main ballroom."
oof
"That's still… cool?"
Cass didn't look convinced, but some of the tension left her shoulders.
"Can I run some tests?” Varian asked. “What do your powers do exactly? Why do you need me? Rapunzel, do you have any lingering powers post haircut?"
"I did, but they've been suppressed, probably by what triggered Cass’s powers."
"How about that…" He trailed off for several seconds.
"Oh great, so we're dealing with some kind of opposing forces, really helping your image, sis. Well, hopefully Cass can learn enough control to clear up Rapunzel's magic. otherwise we'll need an overwhelming source of similar magic to flush out her system."
"We can't access the sundrop," Cass said. "The door to the vault is heavily guarded."
"Also" Rapunzel added "there's no guarantee that it still has magic."
"Well, if that's the case, you should have the brunt of its power inside of you, and you should be able to rekindle it on your own eventually. After all, whatever magic Cass picked up, it can't rival a literal drop of sun."
"That's a relief," the princess sighed.
"So, about those tests...?"
"Don't push your luck V."
"Wait Cass, it might be a good idea, Fr- Dad is clearly trying to cover this up, but what's a little accidental debris in an alchemist's lab?"
"Hey! ...fair." he shrugged.
"Okay, let's go figure this out" he grabbed his sister's hand and pulled her towards his mangled contraption. "First, make this even worse."
"Get over it," Cass said.
"Okay, but seriously, I need to see your capabilities." Varian picked up his quill again
"Let's get started."
---
Growing up, Stalyan had wanted for nothing, physically at least. Her father ran a successful organization of thieves, and from a young age she had access to riches unimaginable to most commoners, as well as a… unique education. By the time she was eleven Stalyan could lie, cheat and steal as well as the Baron’s elite men. So it went without saying that she didn’t take no very well. Which was why one of the members of her private intelligence network (she loved her father, she just didn’t trust him) was updating her about Flynn Rider’s status as a single working man.
Stalyan grinned, “he got what he deserved.” Maybe she'd give him a visit, rub in his face how much better she was doing. “ Honestly, how hard can it be to keep a sheltered rich girl interested? If it were me, I would never have left myself so open to humiliating rejection.” Ignoring the grimace of the messenger, who probably had the same thought she did, Stalyan turned to look out the window.
Karma’s a bitch, isn’t that right ‘Eugene Fitzherbert’?
The messenger cleared his throat.
"What?" she snapped, "I'm ruminating."
"Your father is making his move soon. "
"Without telling me?" Stalyan raised a brow, "that's strange."
There was a knock on her door. Without missing a beat, she shoved the messenger out the window (he'd survive, it was only two stories) and opened the door.
"Pops," Stalyan smiled warmly, ignoring the thud from outside. "How can I help you?"
“There’s a new thief in town,” he informed her. “Quite good at covering their tracks, practically a ghost. Do me a favor and look into it will you?
I can always use new recruits.”