Archive of Our Own

“The Queen is coming!” Cassandra calls, scurrying down the hallway. Her heels clack at a rapid tempo, clipboard ready to smack anyone who dares to step a toe out of line. She’s been running this show for so long, she has it down to a science, and no one dares to question her reign of terror. “Eugene!” Speaking of those who would question her. She swings the clipboard, but he dodges just in time. “She’ll have a double door entrance.”

“Yeah yeah, I got it,” Eugene calls the order into his microphone. “Where is she?”

“Here!” Her majesty Queen Rapunzel of Corona does a small twirl to show off her gown, sparkling with pink and purple under the candlelight. 

Cassandra smiles. “You’re late.”

“A queen is never late, everyone else is early.” She holds out a hand for Eugene to take, and he kisses it with reverence. “Shall we?” She strokes his face as she retracts her hand.

As the doors fall open and the trumpeters announce her arrival, the crowd gathered all bow to her majesty. The people are fanned out around her in a circle. 

“I am honored to invite you all to this evening,” she begins, her even present bright smile shining. “Many of you will remember Queen Ulla’s son, Varian.”

“Queen Ulla, may he rest in peace,” the crowd responded. 

“Will you please raise your glasses in celebration, for Varian’s 21st birthday?” Rapunzel raises her flute, signaling the trumpeters to open the doors for the young prince. A drum rolls with the tune as Varian comes out into the ballroom, an awkwardly charming grin on his face. They never did fix his buck teeth, after all. Rapunzel thought it made him look more personable, despite it being the one thing about him Varian wanted to change initially. His coat is a deep red, vibrant with a gold bowtie and long train behind him. The white gloves on his hands are a welcome change to his usual leather and plastic from hours in the lab. 

He waves, and the glove goes flying.

When Varian was 14, he learned he was a prince.

It wasn’t exactly the most… expected news by any means. There he was, a random high schooler who’s biggest problem was whether or not he had a chemistry test, and the next thing he knew he was being flown to a small European country named Corona, where he learned his mom was the late queen. Him! A prince! It all felt like a dream even still at 21. Well, he wouldn’t be prince for much longer. Because now that he’s 21, he’s going to be King . Of a whole ass nation!

God, isn’t that a terrifying thought, he muses. It’s not that he’s ungrateful, not by any stretch of the imagination. He’s been able to reconnect with his family thanks to all of this, and learn more about his late mother. He’s grown and changed so much from the dorky scientist his aunt greeted in the middle of downtown San Francisco. But even all these years later, all the etiquette and fancy jewels and pageantry is still so foreign to him. No amount of political science classes could prepare him for this. 

Case in point, for his 21st birthday, he has to dance with all of the eligible bachelors in the room. He’s eternally grateful that Corona is a progressive country, among the first to legalize gay marriage thanks to his mother’s ambition, but it means that he has to dance with both men and women tonight. 

It’s not too bad at first, just some awkward small talk, and a few people who couldn’t speak English, before he manages to sneak a swipe off of the cake he knows he won’t be able to eat. That’s the worst about these parties, such good food and he has to make rounds instead. The cake itself is pretty good, he thinks he’ll snag another bite after the next dance, when he turns around and immediately steps on another man’s foot. 

“Oh! Oh, I am so sorry, are you- are you ok?” He stumbles over his words, bending down as if to check the man’s foot through his shoes somehow, but when he rises he comes face to face with a young man about his age. His blonde hair is tied back in a bun, showing off a remarkably trendy undercut slightly obscured by the frames of large glasses. His eyes lock with green and freckles, and for the slightest of seconds he lets his breath escape. 

He smirks. “I’ll survive, your highness. The fault was mine.”

“Oh,” Varian smacks his lips, swaying in place. “Are you sure you don’t want to exchange licenses and proof of insurance?” 

“No no, these shoes were a bit big anyway. The swelling will help them fit.” Varian can’t stop the snort that escapes him. The man holds out a hand, which Varian gladly accepts. 

“It’s an honor to dance with you, your highness,” he says, with a low tone of appreciation. 

“Varian is fine, please.” He’s willing to take the formalities from people older than him, but not a peer. “And you are…?”

“Hugo. Just Hugo.”

“Well I’m very glad to see my clumsiness has not affected your dancing.” Hugo pulls the prince out for a spin, and then back in in time with the music. Their shoes make pleasant sounds against the floor. 

He’s so focused on the other, on his smooth movements and smoother fingers, that he totally misses a caterer with a tray. The metal collides with his tiara, pushing it off of his head. Varian spins around with a gasp, the sudden change on his head quickly made aware, only to see an older woman holding the priceless artifact. She’s wearing a dark green dress, with a slit up the leg. Hugo’s hands briefly tighten around Varian’s, before he’s letting go so that he can thank the woman. 

“You should be more careful, your highness,” the woman says, placing the tiara back on his head. “Someone may want to take that away from you.”

What an odd thing to say, but Varian doesn’t question it. “Thank you so much!” He turns to Hugo. “It was nice to meet you, but I need to keep going, you know how it is.”

“Nah, I get it,” Hugo places a hand in his pocket. “Go step on some more feet.” 

Varian rolls his eyes good-naturedly, walking away as the woman places a hand on Hugo’s shoulder. 

“Someone like us,” she mutters, eyes narrowing.

“You, my dear,” Donella begins, “Are a true Coronan.” Her boots click back and forth against the wooden floor of their estate like the reaper’s clock. At her side, Hugo lounges in the armchair, practically upside down. His neck must hurt from the posture he’s in, pressed against the seat. Yet Donella doesn’t bother to try and fix it, she’s tried too many times and never succeeded. It’s the one thing she could never get him to learn. “You were born in this country. And through your great great… many great grandfathers, you are in line for the throne.” Sure, it’s a good 200 plus years back but who’s counting? The royal family is quite dispersed as of late. Hugo is one of the only remaining in the country and not in his 90s. “You should be king.” 

“I agree,” Hugo hums, slowly rolling himself out of the chair and onto the floor, if only to rearrange himself. He ignores the scoff she gives at it. Not like they’re in public. “But how do we do that? We’re not exactly high up in the order of succession, you know.” 

Donella sighs. She looks up at the dartboard, and for the briefest of moments, she remembers the old photograph of the queen she used to keep up there. “Give me one of the darts.” she doesn’t look when Hugo passes it into her hand, her eyes solely on the bullseye. “Now, watch closely. I’ll show you a trick that gets you a bullseye every time.” 

She takes a breath.

And charges at the target. 

Her hand slams into the center of the dartboard, practically shoving the dart into the center. The metal groans under her force, almost bending the point. She digs in just a bit harder, pretending it’s that stupid queen’s stupid smile for just a second longer, before stepping back. 

Hugo blinks. “That’s cheating.”

“Exactly.” She turns with a flourish. “I reminded parliament of the birthright rule. No one may rule Corona without being born here, and if they are not native born, they must marry someone who is.” 

“What?” Hugo furrows his brow. It’s such a faint memory in the list of laws he’s learned. The tradition dated back to the age of conquest, when a nearby, more powerful kingdom could easily sweep in and assume the throne. It was meant to prevent such power grabs from constantly shuffling the monarchy. “No one’s enforced that rule in forever.”

“Until today.” She grins. “The Prince only has till his coronation in 30 days to get married, or else the throne goes to you.” 

It takes a moment for her words to sink in, but when they do, Hugo’s smile grows to cover his face like a Cheshire cat.

It’s in the foyer where Varian is currently having the worst time of his life. 

“Ughhhh,” he squirms as Rapunzel runs a hand through his hair to try and tame the worst of the frizziness. It’s gotten a lot better, when he was a teenager his hair was a curly nightmare, but there’s still the occasional curl in his still-dyed hair. He’s surprised the court is letting him keep the streaks, but then again, he is a prince, and he can do whatever the hell he wants. It worked for Prince Harry. 

Funny they’re ok with hair but he has to have an arranged fucking marriage .

He’s not a romantic, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s only 21 and he has to get married to someone he doesn’t even know? And in 30 days, no less? What if he can’t find anyone? What if they don’t get along? He doesn’t want to be trapped in a loveless marriage! His aunt never had to get married to take the throne, neither did his mom, for heaven’s sake she had him out of wedlock if you wanna get technical. And now because he was born in America he has to marry an Coronan. Or else this schmuck was going to take his throne. Speaking of schmuck,

“I can’t believe parliament invited the guy who wants to take over the throne to stay with us.” 

“Oh, parliament didn’t invite them,” Rapunzel hums, finally done with his hair. “I did!” 

Varian turns slowly, gaping at his aunt while she turns to fuss with Eugene’s collar now. “I offered to have him hung by his toes,” Eugene supplies.

“Yes, let’s do that! Why can’t we do that?”

“Because this isn’t an absolute monarchy,” Rapunzel chastises. She pats Eugene’s cheek. “If there's any mischief going on, I'd prefer it to be right where you can stop them. My big strong Eugene.” The man turns beet red. 

“I just don’t want to be nice to this guy!” Varian whines like a child. “He’s trying to take my throne! And he’s rude, and arrogant-”

“Have you even met him?” 

“I-” has he? He’d have been at the ball right? God there were so many people though, he can’t remember a DeBellon. “No.” 

“Well then, you’ll just have to be so charming that he’ll give up his game right then and there.”

“Your majesty,” The two turn, and Donella stands with her nephew at her side. “Allow me to introduce my nephew, Lord DeBellon.”

And Varian’s vision tunnels . 

Because he does know this guy. This Hugo, this Just Hugo , just a fucking lord and coming for your throne with his charming smile and stupid quips and swollen feet-

“Hugo, yes? We are delighted to make your acquaintance.” If Rapunzel has noticed the way his eyes widen in horror and then quickly avert, she makes no comment. “May I present my nephew Varian.”

The blonde bows, perfectly poised and a pleasant smile on his face, as if nothing was wrong. As if he wasn’t trying to take over Varian’s throne and look unfairly hot while doing so. He holds his hand out to take Varian’s. “An honor to meet you,”

Varian turns his head. Sure, he looks like a child, but god be damned he is not going to look this smarmy bastard in the eye and say pleased to meet you, he refuses . 

“Varian,” Rapunzel goads gently. “Would you like to greet our guest…?”

Fine. He deigns to turn his head, glancing at Hugo as if he is nothing but the dirt beneath his heel, which is ironic because Hugo is much taller. “Lord Hugo…” he says, with the pettiest and faintest of smiles on his face. 

With all the strength of a farm boy, he stomps on Hugo’s toes, digging his heel into the man’s foot. He turns with an audible “Hmph!” and stomps off.

Eugene bursts into laughter.

The Queen finds him face first in a tub of ice cream. 

He’s eating like the world is ending, which, she supposes, seems to be for him. His face is half covered in the stuff, spoon absolutely loaded as he angrily rants at Ruddiger, who’s perched on top of the counter. The cooks must probably not be too happy about that. 

“He’s such a dick !” He raves, waving his spoon in the air. “Acting all high and mighty, totally innocent, innocent my ass, I bet he eats puppies or some other bullshit-” Ruddiger licks the spoon being pointed in his face. It goes right back into Varian’s mouth as if he never noticed. 

With a cough, the chefs in the room scatter like mice. Varian doesn’t even look up.

Summoning all of her regal spirit, she asks “Would you care to explain what just happened?” 

“Sorry,” he says, which is not an explanation by any standards. At her crossed arms, he continues. “I have met… Lord Hugo.” Ugh. Even calling him a lord feels disgusting. He doesn’t deserve such a dignified title, he deserves to be called rat or… slimeball. Even if all he did was be polite! Whatever! He’s a dick!

“Yup, at the ball. Didn’t know who he was, and he was cute, so we danced! And I flirted!” He stabs the ice cream. Bet Hugo’s lactose intolerant, what good king is lactose intolerant, he thinks with a huff. “I feel so stupid right now.”

“You’re always stupid.” The ice cream goes flying as Varian shrieks. It bounces off the table leaving melted ice cream in its wake that Ruddiger happily laps up. He turns around to scold whoever spooked him, but instead…

“NURU!” He gasps, lifting her off the ground as he spins her around in delight. He hasn’t seen her in months, what with her off at Berkley! She was going to fly in for his coronation, but this is quite the surprise. “You’re here! You’re actually here!”

“Yeah!” She laughs, accepting the hug. “I'm here! Your aunt and I wanted to surprise you.”

God, he could cry right now. “I’m so glad to see you. Oh by the way I’m getting married.” 

She pauses. “To who?”

“Catalina Schnitz,” Hugo reads aloud from the paper. The castle suite they’ve gifted him is nice, but it’s far too big for his taste, so he and Donella decided to share for now. She’s looking out the window with her tea in hand, listening but not contributing. The palace has a whole crowd gathered out front, people congratulating the prince in droves. And beside him is a young redhead with a polite smile and politer wave. “Prince Varian has managed to find himself a wife within a week.”

“He can’t possibly be happy with that,” Donella muses. An arranged marriage was never in the question for this family, despite years of precedent. The last arranged marriage was Ulla and Rapunzel’s parents, Arianna and Frederick. It didn’t end well; last she heard the former queen was living large in Italy with her former handmaiden. 

Neither was Varian’s mother, Arianna’s eldest… she sighs. Ulla was always one to follow her heart, it’s no doubt that her son would be the same. Maybe then it would get into his stupid head that he shouldn’t rule, that it wasn’t worth giving up everything and everyone for your country… she has already done that, after all. Best those with nothing to lose run the world than those with too much to lose. 

It’s what Ulla wanted, whispered to her between hallways and hushed lips. Soft breaths of reverence, secret passageways, longing glances and saddened eyes. 

“Hugo,” he looks up from the paper. “Your job is to romance him.” he smirks that stupid smarmy look of his, the one that has gotten him slapped so many times, the one that probably got his foot crushed earlier this week. “Show him what a real romance looks like, one of actual passion.” 

“Oho,” he snickers. “Get him to change his mind about Catalina? That, I can do.” with a flourish he pulls out a tube of strawberry lipgloss and immediately sets to work dolling himself up. If he’s going to seduce the prince he’s going to do it right. 

“Exactly,” she rolls her eyes. “And the 30 day deadline will expire, leaving the throne to you.” To me. To no one. “Just, please don’t get yourself killed. I think that boy has rabies.”

Hugo sticks his leg up almost vertically against the doorway, as if to show his aunt how great he is at seduction. “No promises.”

It takes a lot of work to plan a wedding in under a month. 

There’s choices to be made, dresses to order, suits to tailor, cake to bake, it’s such a production that if it were anything but a royal wedding it wouldn’t be possible. The whole country has practically mobilized to get the show on the road as soon as possible, and for that Varian is endlessly grateful. 

But… It's still way too much. 

He’s an introvert who’s good at pretending to be an extrovert, ergo he still needs the time to recharge on his own. Which is easier said than done. The only times he’s alone are when he’s asleep, in the bathroom, or, like right now, actively hiding from the palace staff by sitting on a random set of stairs. 

With a sigh, he closes his book. His head’s too much of a mess to get anything done right now. God forbid he has to look at another centerpiece in the next century or he might actually become a despot. 

Catalina seems to like it at least…

Unintentionally his eyes drift towards the ring on his finger. It’s nothing extreme, just a simple gold band. She said it was her dad’s, a man who never married but raised two kids with all the love a father could give. Yet never finding a romantic love… not that the man seemed unhappy when they met! It’s just…

If it isn’t for this stupid rule he probably wouldn’t have even met this girl…

His train of thoughts is rudely interrupted by a song, a soft whistle of a sweet melody pouring from sinful lips as Hugo strolls into view. He leans against the banister with a hand on his face like a dreamy schoolgirl. “Having second thoughts, are we?” 

Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Varian stands up in a rush to meet Hugo’s height. “On the contrary, I was just admiring my ring,” he holds it out for Hugo to inspect. Not that he cared about the bastard’s opinion. “She gave it to me in the gardens, you know she really is so sweet.” He moves up the stairs, but Hugo follows, staying a few steps behind so that their heights match. Varian retreats like a cat who tried to fight too big of a critter. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” he practically jumps down the stairs and onto the other set, directly across from the stairs he was sitting on. “I really must see to some wedding details.” As he ascends, though, Hugo follows, keeping at the same pace, so Varian slows down. Maybe his too long legs will trip and he’ll fall and die. “I’m sorry, is there something you wanted to say to me?” Are they too far that Hugo can’t see the death glare he’s giving? He hopes not. He wants Hugo to die. Is that clear? 

“Nah,” Hugo keeps his face annoyingly impassive. “You are the one who stomped on me with your big feet.” 

“Big feet? You’re like- you-!” Varian grips the banister so tight the marble really should shatter. “You’re the one who danced with my big feet ,” he hisses. 

Hugo raises his arms in surrender. “Ok. I danced with you. Call The Hague, convene the war-crimes tribunal!” They’re near the top of the steps now, coming back together, so maybe he can see the death stare. “Look, Varian, we danced for like, a minute.” At the top, they meet in the middle, almost drawn together.

Varian grumbles. “More than a minute.”

“Fine, a minute and a half.” he rolls his eyes. “Why does it matter?” 

“It was a minute and a half and also a lie because you didn’t say who you were or that you were trying to steal my crown!” 

“Oh, pardon me, I forgot my manners. Of course, when you ask one to dance you start by showing them your entire family tree.” 

“Well aren’t you just…” Varian sneers. “ Crafty .” 

There’s muffled talking from beyond the hall, more wedding planning. And despite how much he hates Hugo, he hates wedding planning more. So for now this will have to do. Hugo notices it too, with the way his grin widens. God , Varian wants to slap it off his face so hard he’ll never talk again. 

“Do you want to know what else you were doing, while you were doing your little lie dance?” He regrets it the second it comes out of his mouth.

Hugo looks like Christmas has come early. “Lie dance.” 

“Yes.”

“What is a lie dance?”

“What you did!” Varian puffs out his cheeks, looking around, before grabbing Hugo and dragging him into the closet behind him. He turns on the light, revealing the rather spacious storage with all sorts of valuable trinkets that would make younger him blush at the price tag. Despite the space, he gets all up in Hugo’s space, hoping that if he gets close enough he can bite the bastard’s nose. “The lie dance is not the point. The point is that I-” he’s cut off when Hugo turns off the light.

Varian turns it back on. 

“The point is that I am onto you ,” he seethes, digging his fingers into Hugo’s shirt. “Oho, oh, I am onto you, ” 

“Oh? And what am I doing?” Varian’s face is positively scarlet. 

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I-” the door slides open to reveal a very unimpressed Cassandra, and Varian pushes the other so hard he hits his head on a golden chair. 

“Oh, didn’t mean to interrupt this hot mess,” she smirks, “Carry on.” 

“No, hang on! We- uh…” Varian trails off as the door closes again. He can hear Cassandra laughing as she goes, probably off to tell the Queen, gossips that they are. He’ll never catch a break, he thinks, hanging his head.

“I did some digging on this Lord Hugo,” Eugene says, arm in arm with Rapunzel in the palace gardens. “Born in Corona, yknow.” 

“What a shock,” she deadpans, but it quickly gives way to a smile as she bumps his hip. “Sorry, sorry. Go on.” 

Eugene sighs fondly, just taking in the sight of his queen amongst the flowers. All of this natural beauty, and yet she stands out like a golden rose. “Went to school for engineering and politics, graduated top of his class. Good cook, apparently very talented at chess, terrible at most sports,” Rapunzel snorts. “And quite the playboy. Partyboy.” His face is thoughtful. “Maybe we could lure him out with a party and then disappear him…”

“Eugene,” she sighs fondly. Her face falls. “And he cornered Varian in a closet?”

“I think it was a mutual cornering.” 

Despite all of the praise and encouragement she’s given him, she’s still unsure he’ll ever be ready… he’s only 21, for goodness sake! He wasn’t supposed to even learn about his heritage until he was 18. But then when Ulla died… she sighs. Donella, for all of her current bickering with the Queen, used to be her biggest supporter. Or rather, Ulla’s supporter. She was kind to Rapunzel, but not close in the way she and her sister were. No, they were more like how she and Eugene are now, she muses. Why doesn’t she want to see Ulla’s son on the throne? It’s not like Hugo is much older, maybe more prepared, but not by much. Definitely not more eligible. 

“Do you think he’ll be a good king?” she asks Eugene.

Eugene almost looks shocked she asked. “Of course. He’s young, so he’ll make some mistakes, but I’ve always had faith.” 

She bites her lip. “The wedding invites have already been sent out.”

“Yup.”

“And Catalina is good for him… he’s so set on it.” 

Eugene pauses their stroll, taking both her hands in his. “Rapunzel, sunshine. Forget the wedding for a sec.” he rubs his thumb over her knuckles. “In less than a month, you won’t be queen, and I won’t be your head of security. Just enjoy it.”

She pouts. “I’ll always need you.” 

“I know,” he agrees. “I need you too… just perhaps, not just as my queen…?” 

For a moment, there are no words, just the faint trickle of nearby fountains and the rustling of leaves. “Rapunzel. I know we have a lot to do. But maybe it’s time to switch over from thinking about your country… and start thinking about yourself.” 

She smiles faintly. “My sister wanted to do that,” she admits. “She wanted to think for herself. It’s why she sent Varian away. And look where it got us.”

Eugene’s smile doesn’t fade. “Just think about it, ok?”

She nods, and he presses a kiss to her head. 

It still doesn’t sit right with her, so when she runs into Hugo in the kitchen, she sits down and pours them both a cup of hot chocolate. Usually she goes for tea, but it’s Varian’s favorite, and maybe she’s up for a little psychological warfare tonight. He can’t exactly turn away the Queen when she offers him the cup, after all.

“I wanted to ask you a question,” she says calmly, not even looking at him as she sips at her cup.

“Shoot.” 

“Why are you so against Varian being King?” 

He pauses for a moment, before smiling, exasperated. He should’ve seen that coming. “Well, my aunt feels he doesn’t know the people.”

“And you do?”

“I grew up here, I went to school here, so yeah, I would say so. Varian didn’t know he was Coronan until he was a teen, and hasn’t really spent any time here since then.” he takes a long sip of the warm drink. “Oh this is good.”

“Varian’s recipe,” she hums. “He’s very bright, sensitive, and caring, all qualities of a good ruler.”

Hugo nods. “Yeah, I know.”

Now that’s a surprise. “You do?”

“I mean, I’ve met him,” Hugo shrugs. “But how can he rule the people if he doesn’t truly know them? Truly understand them?”

It’s at a lunch party in the gardens when it all comes to a head. 

Varian made good progress with the people, mingling with the public who were allowed in, as well as the nobility and diplomats he manages to know by name and remember details about. It’s quite impressive how he’s putting his big brain to use. Catalina seems to think so, hanging on his arm and happy to interject when she can. She’s also been schooling him on certain cultural touchstones that can’t be picked up by rubbing with the older riffraff. Meanwhile her sister, Kiera, who Varian is quickly befriending, has been giving him all of the juicy blackmail she knows. Between those two and Nuru, Varian feels on top of the world.

And then, Nuru notices a blond twig amongst the partygoers. Catalina went to high school with him, apparently, and she says the only thing that’s changed is that he’s less easy to pick on. That knowledge brings a small vindictive joy to the prince. 

“King wannabe at 6 o’clock,” Nuru mutters into her glass of mimosa. “He’s got arm candy.”

“Lady Faith,” Kiera supplies.

“Oh,” Varian’s voice cracks too much. “Is she… his girlfriend?”

Kiera scoffs. “As if. He doesn’t have girlfriends. He has dates.”

“You don’t seem fond of him,” Varian smirks.

“We acknowledge each other,” she admits with a wolfish smile of her own. 

“Catalina! Shall we?” he holds out an arm for him to take, which she’s more than happy to accept, as he steers her towards Hugo so they can flaunt their happiness in his stupid sexy face.

“Ah, Lord Hugo, it’s been a while,” Catalina calls, and there’s clearly some history Varian needs to know, because Hugo turns white for a fraction of a second before schooling it back to normal. He rears back, as if unprepared for this interaction, and the air is oddly… awkward. 

“Uh, hi, I’m Catalina Schnitz,” the redhead holds her hand out for the other lady to shake. 

“Faith Geldmann, a pleasure,” she takes it reverently. “Your highness,” she curtsies.

“Lady Faith,” now that pleasantries were out of the way, the war was on.  

“Lady Faith and I were just discussing her latest success, she’s an intern at the UN!” Hugo wraps his own arm around her as if to mimic the engaged couple, face tight with a smile.

“Oh, Hugo, you don’t have to-” but she’s cut off. 

Varian’s own smile feels similarly strained. “Oh, congratulations! You know, Catalina is getting her PhD at Oxford, she’s been so busy traveling, you know how it is.”

“Oh yes!” Hugo gestures to the woman. “Faith too, she was in the Peace Corps.”

“Catalina spent a summer in Egypt studying archeology.”

“And Faith-”

“Faith is trying to say something?” Catalina interrupted. All eyes turn to Faith, who was slowly turning a shade purple. 

“Catalina, would you like to get a drink? I have a feeling these two will be at it for…” she looks at them. “A while.”

Varian gapes in awe of this woman. 

“Oh sure! Here, you can come meet my sister,” Catalina is quick to grab her, and as they go, Varian can just barely make out something about measuring flocks.  

He rolls the top of his lip into his mouth. It’s just him and Hugo now. 

Hugo rolls onto the balls of his feet, whistling awkwardly. “...Nice party.”

“It is!” 

“And you two make such a cute couple.”

How… oddly nice of him. “We do, thanks.”

“Hm. Shame you’re not into her.” 

“I know. I-...” his words trail off and his face turns red when he realizes what he just agreed to. Hugo’s stupid smile is back as he strolls away, further into the gardens. “You get back here!” he grits, stomping after. If he kills him no one would charge him, right? Princes get diplomatic immunity, right? 

He practically has to run after Hugo due to his stupid long legs. He’s going to cut those legs off. He’s going to rip them out and shove them in that smarmy ass mouth so he can never speak again. Hugo seems more amused than concerned for his life, as he should be, walking backwards and laughing at the blood vessel currently popping out of Varian’s skull. “You can’t just say that and then walk away! I will have you know I am very attracted to Catalina!” The further they go, the more isolated they are, and Varian is starting to wonder if Hugo is going to try and kill him . But that thought quickly vanishes when he remembers that Hugo is a milk stick and couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag. 

“Right, obviously,” Hugo says as if Varian is a toddler telling him about penguins. 

Varian sputters, stomping his foot almost comically. “I do! I am! She… we are perfect for each other! She understands me-”

“Oh wow, understands you!” Hugo circles around him like a cat with a songbird. “How lovely, what passion! Yknow it’s funny, I didn’t hear you mention love.”

Varian rolls his eyes, stepping away from Hugo and rounding the fountain. What, does he expect Catalina and him to be soulmates? Did he expect Varian to just yearn for a certain voice all along, and once he found it, spend the rest of their lives together? Please. “You’re just jealous.”

“Of Catalina?” Hugo laughs. “Nah, she has to spend the rest of her life with you!” 

Oh that does it.

He whips around and smacks Hugo with his program. “ I loathe you, ” he seethes. His words practically shake with anger as his teeth clench.

Hugo glances down at his suit, as if to check if it’s ruined, before his face scrunches with equal hate. “I loathe you!” He snaps, smacking right across the prince’s breast. 

Varian gasps. Trying to take over or not, how dare he! He should’ve made Eugene hang him by his toes all along. Or better yet, by his dick. By his stupid smile. By his stupid sexy hair. “I loathed you first!” 

Their noses are practically touching, breaths hot on one another’s face. Hugo faintly smells of peppermint. He looks at the prince’s lips, debating the morale of it, before remembering he has no morals. With a hand around Varian’s neck, he pulls him in for a bruising kiss. 

At first it’s nothing to write home about, but Hugo’s lips are soft , and his cologne so sweet, that Varian immediately melts into it. He hasn’t had a proper kiss in forever, so sue him. The kiss deepens, Varian humming into his mouth with delight as butterflies float in his stomach and pulling his arms up around Hugo’s shoulders. A leg pops up unconsciously as Hugo wraps his own arms around Varian’s waist.

It’s at this point Varian remembers who these lips are attached to. His eyes shoot open and he lets go of Hugo’s shoulders, screaming into the kiss. Oh god, why aren’t his lips as slimy as his words, why is this stupid hot boy such a good kisser, when did they even start kissing? 

Hugo finally lets him go with a pop , and Varian tries to sell a gag. “What is WRONG with you!? You can’t just go around kissing people! Engaged people!” He screeches, wiping his mouth despite the loss he feels. He rounds the pool, but Hugo follows.

The lord grins, thumbing at his lip. Forget hanging, he’s going to rip this man’s teeth out one by one . “You enjoyed it,” he shrugs. “Wanna do it again?” he leans in, pushing Varian further around the fountain.

“I-No!?” He hisses, hand over his lips, but they both know he’s lying. Oh no, he does. He totally does! This bastard is trying to steal his crown and yet he’s kissing him! And oh, Catalina, she’s so sweet, so trusting, how could he look her in the eye after this!? How could he look Rapunzel in the eye after this!? “Stop trying to confuse me! That’s an order from your prince!” Round and round, he pacing around the circle to quell his spinning mind, while Hugo trails after like a puppy. An evil evil puppy. 

“What’s confusing about a kiss!”

“Oh stop acting coy!” He spins around and whacks Hugo again, harder this time. “You know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me like you so that I won't want to marry Cat and so you can have the crown. You ass! ”

“Maybe,” Hugo says. Varian moves to stomp around the fountain some more, but Hugo grabs him by the waist and spins him close. “Or maybe I just like kissing you. That hard to believe?” 

Varian’s face is going to explode. He hopes it kills Hugo in the process. “You stay away from me-!” 

He cuts off with an ear splitting shriek as he loses his balance. He grabs onto Hugo in an attempt to stabilize himself, but Hugo isn’t able to keep them both afloat, and so they both go tumbling into the water. It splashes out of the fountain, rippling back and forth into Varian’s nose as he comes up.

Hugo looks absolutely baffled, like he never expected his teasing to go this far… dare he say, even guilty?

Impossible. Blondes don’t have emotions.

“You know what? I have a great idea. Really great. Why don’t you go back underwater, and I’ll  count to a million.” With that, he pulls himself out of the pond, practically dripping everywhere. 

“Varian, wait!” Hugo calls, but Varian doesn’t stop. If he has any luck, he’ll never see this man again.

“I don’t need this right now,” he hisses, whirling around when his wrist is caught. Hugo pauses, mouth agape. 

Varian’s crying.

Any snappy remark he has dies on his tongue. “I… I’m sorry, I-”

“No you’re not, you don’t think of anyone but yourself.” Varian’s voice warbles. It’s not the strong voice of a leader. “So just this once, can you please let me be miserable, and not make me feel worse about myself?”

Hugo doesn’t have a retort. He stands silently as he lets Varian’s hand slip from his.

Rapunzel cuts off mid conversation when Varian approaches her. His bangs are basically covering his face. “...Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.”

Hugo made himself scarce the following days, much to Varian’s… not delight. He was glad that he could focus on other things, but when he actually tried, all he could think about was the smell of mint on his sleeves, on the hair ripe for rustling, on his smarmy grin that could melt into something truly sweet and sorrowful…

But then Varian would remember that he is engaged , to a lovely lady no less, a lady who he was quite enjoying the company of. They took a small getaway to one of Corona’s small beaches, too cold for swimming, but the breeze was pleasant as they chatted. He learned that Catalina was adopted, that she was ambidextrous, and that she liked dogs…

He wonders if Hugo is a cat person…

God, the guilt is eating him alive. He does like Catalina, really! But the more he gets to know her, the less he sees her as his fiance. He’d ask Rapunzel, but she never married, and well.. He knows what happened to his mom…

The only thing that snaps him out of this little spiral is the annual independence parade. He’s learned everything there is to know about Corona’s history, both from lessons and his own digging, but no one’s really sure why they celebrate an independence day. They were never a European colony (since, yknow, they were in Europe) but Corona’s traded so many hands over the centuries it’s not entirely clear who they’re celebrating becoming free from. The general consensus is from Saporia, a state that dissolved around the first world war, but the celebrations predate that so… anyway! 

The castle population is stationed along the route at various locations, having front row seats to the whole ordeal. It’s quite big, all things considered, certainly not Macy’s Thanksgiving but bigger than your average parade. Hugo waves his aunt down, squeezing in between her and a few ladies he recognizes, one of which is Catalina. 

The woman next to him, a dark-skinned girl in a sky blue dress, looks him up and down. “You’re Hugo?” She asks, unimpressed, and Hugo suddenly fears for his life. 

“Lord deBellon,” he sticks out a hand. She takes it and nearly dislocates his wrist. 

“Nuru Koto, official best friend of the future King. I don’t like you!” 

Well that certainly explains a lot about him. 

“Flags,” A monotone voice calls, and Hugo looks up to see Cass tossing flags at people. Literally, throwing them in people’s laps as she walks by with the most miserable expression he’s ever seen on her, and that’s saying a lot. “Flag. Flag. Flag.” She tosses them to the girls. “You. Flag?” 

“We’re good,” Donella intervenes. “Not really the flag waving type. But, I will wave the flag when a true Genovian sits on the throne.” 

“She’s still Queen, dumbass.”

Donella blinks, while Hugo hides his sniggers. She moves on. “Oh, haha,” Donella pushes him. “Be serious, boy.”

Eugene leans back to get a good look at Varian. “How you holding up, kid?”

“Not a kid,” Varian grumbles. He slides down in the seat, crossing his arms like the mature adult he is.

“That bad, huh?” 

He opens his mouth to answer, but Rapunzel hops in beside him, and well, Eugene isn’t going to focus on anyone else for the next hour, so he slowly clambers back into an upright position. “Shall we?” She asks, and Eugene signals for the march to begin. The parade spurs to life, dancers and bands showing off what they’ve practiced for months. Varian’s been practicing too, but his act is just to smile and wave and be pretty. He feels like a princess at Disneyworld. 

The people are all cheering, waving their flags, and as they pass he’s starting to wonder if this is all worth it. If he’s ready to do this for the rest of his life. 

His mind begins to drift, eyes scanning the crowd, and then-

“Stop tugging on me!”

“Aww, thumb sucker! Gonna cry?” 

His head whips around like a bullet. It’s a young boy, maybe 5 or so. He’s got the chubbiest cheeks and jet black hair cut short. Chalk and other artist pigments dot his clothes, there’s even a smudge on his cheek. Towering over him are two boys maybe twice his age, dangling a flag above their heads that the youngest is trying to reach in vain. He looks about to cry.

“Stop the carriage!” Varian cries. The horse jolts to a halt, and Varian is up and off before they’ve come to a complete stop. He doesn’t wait to see what his aunt thinks, his only thoughts are on those kids. 

Hugo perks up at the abrupt stop, at the murmurs of the crowd. His eyes scan the audience before seeing Varian up and about, walking over to what seems to be a children’s shelter… 

“Hi everyone!” He cheers, and they all parrot back polite greetings. But he’s got his eyes set on the little one, and leans down to speak to him. “Hi, what’s your name?”

For a moment, he’s quiet, almost scared. His thumb retreats into his mouth. “Yong.”

Varian smiles before his gaze settles on the other two. It’s firmer than with Yong, almost stern, but not unkind. He gets their names before asking, “Did I see you two picking on Yong?” They scuffle their feet a bit. 

“They stole my flag,” he whines, and Varian pulls him into a brief smile, before rising up to speak to the man in charge. 

“Excuse me, these children are?”

“Orphans or foster care. We care for as many as we can.” he responds.

“Oh, is he hugging orphans now?” Donella groans. “That is the most cliche, political, self-aggrandizing move-”

“Yong,” Varian leans back down. His voice drops as if to share a secret. “How would you like to be a prince today?” 

The kid’s eyes are as large as saucers. “Really?” his face falls. “I can’t, I’m too little.” it sounds like he’s been told this, rather than believing it. 

“Oh no, because today, I declare anyone can be a prince.” he stands as he speaks, eyes gazing over the children’s faces. One by one, they light up with excitement at the thought. “Here’s an idea. Let’s get you a crown, and we can wave and march in the parade, heck, why not all of you?”

“All?” The caretaker looks baffled. “Free tiaras?”

Varian waves him off. “I’ll cover it.” What’s the point of being a prince of a European nation if you can’t use your wealth? 

Hugo leans forward as the kids swarm around, selecting tiaras from the local vendor. Varian handles the kids with ease, happily dispersing them as per the children’s requests and stopping any fights over selections. “He’s… quite good at this.”

“At leading kindergarteners. I should hope so.”

“Kindergarten isn’t much different from parliament.” Hugo remarks.

Donella sighs. “That we can agree on, my boy.” 

“You can’t wave with your thumb in your mouth,” Varian remarks as he gently places a tiara on Yong’s head.

Yong shakes his head, thumb still poised. “I can wave with my other hand.”

He’s not wrong, Varian muses. He heads to the front of the crowd with his hands on his hips. “Ok, so!” He calls their attention in a cheery voice. “To be a prince, you have to believe you’re a prince. Believe in yourself. Because if you can’t believe in yourself, how can your country believe in you? You’ve gotta walk the way you think a prince should walk, too.” He pulls his back straight, and the kids all follow in an over-the-top way. “You gotta smile, and wave, and just have fun! So are we ready?”

“Yeah!” 

“Drumroll, please!” At the call, the kids spur into motion, pouring into the street. Some of the older girls try to wave properly, with their fingers all touching. But a lot of the younger kids are just enjoying the attention, grinning and waving as they march with their prince. 

Yong stands steadfast at Varian’s side, almost hiding behind him with his thumb still in his mouth. “Just remember,” Varian glances down with an encouraging smile. “You are a prince.” Hesitantly, he pulls his thumb out of his mouth, slowly waving. At Varian’s bright beam, he gives one of his own, his wave picking up in speed and enthusiasm, and suddenly he’s waving with both hands as Varian cheers. 

As they pass the castle staff, he sees Hugo soft smile and polite applause. When their eyes meet, his smile widens into something genuine.

“I don’t think it’ll be too much to raise the money for a children’s shelter,” Varian is saying as he strides arm in arm with Catalina. Nuru and Kiera follow shortly behind in the small hallway of the palace, taking notes for their own duties in this regard. “Parliament isn’t too thrilled about having their vacation home taken away in the meantime, so I’m sure they’d love to give money for building the kids a place of their own-” he’s cut off when he nearly walks straight into Hugo. He’s dressed casually for once, with slightly ratty slacks and a button-down rolled up at the cuffs. He gets the feeling this is the most casual he’s allowed to be, and it’s also the most comfortable he feels. 

“Hi,” he says.

“Hello!” Varian responds.

Nuru cuts in between them, grabbing Catalina’s hand and pulling it away from Varian’s. “My hello is insignificant! Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, come with me.” She pulls the twins away in a bluster. 

Varian tucks his arms behind his back, and Hugo copies the motion. With how small the hallway is, the pacing dance they begin wraps them in circles around one another. “So. Are you here to crash my party?”

“Sadly no,” Hugo hums, stopping so he can face the prince. “I just wanted to say it was… really nice. What you did at the parade.” His voice is lower than normal, as if it’s some grave secret. Which Varian supposes it is, considering they’re supposed to be mortal enemies. 

“Oh! Uh, well… thank you,” he stumbles, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. There’s a brief awkward silence, and the dance begins anew. “I’m having a little party,” if Hugo’s going to admit a secret, he may as well. “It’s with a couple other royals from around the continent, yknow, fundraising and stuff.” His smile feels almost… giddy. Stomach fluttery. Middle-school-crush-like. Is there a word for that? For that kind of smile you do, with the light giggles and shy demeanor? He can’t think of one. 

“For the children’s center? Congratulations on that too, by the way.” Hugo looks almost proud. “You have such a unique method to diplomacy.” He pauses, face turning a cute pink (oh no, Varian thinks it’s cute). “Not an insult! A compliment! A good unique.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Varian brushes him off, and the awkward silence is back.

(“Oh lord, this is painful,” Kiera sighs from behind the corner.)

“The princesses are arriving,” Cass calls, not even stopping to  comprehend whatever mating ritual those two were up to, and the spell broke immediately. 

“Oh, well I should go get changed-”

“Go read my book-”

“Yeah.” They finish at the same time. 

Another beat. And then they break for opposite directions like bats out of hell.

“I’m sorry, say that again?” Donella’s got a strip of hot water and ripped up face mask on her scar, hair tied up in a towel. It’s a look Hugo doesn’t get to see on her very often, but it’ll always make him smile a bit. It’s times like this he gets to see Donella not just as the stone cold lawmaker, but as his aunt who hates bananas, who watches Dance Moms as her guilty pleasure, who loves so hard that it pains her. 

“Well, I mean-” Hugo babbles, pacing the front of the room with his arms flailing. “He’s smart, and he really cares about Corona, he loves the people- maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he ran the country.”

“Are you nuts?”

“I mean, I might be!” Hugo admits, flopping down next to her. “He believes in himself so much that he’s going to marry someone he can’t possibly love!”

Donella pinches her nose between two fingers. “I can’t believe you. After everything we went through, after all the effort I put into you and running my name through the mud, we’re just going to give up? To… to be with nothing!?” Her voice gets louder with each word.

He shakes his head. “Not nothing! Corona would be happy! He…” his voice fades. “He’d be happy.”

Donella groans. “Oh. You’ve fallen in love with him, haven’t you.” The very thought looks like she wants to be ill, as if the worst has come to pass and the world is ending, as if she’s having a war flashback. “I’ve raised you to be a king, not a prince consort!”

“No! No,” He stands up like he’s been burnt. “No no no. I am not in love with him. Besides…” he bites his lip, fists clenching. His heart turns to stone in his chest and nearly falls into his stomach. “He doesn’t even like me that way.”

“Of course he doesn’t. What, did you expect him to leave his fiance for you?”

“No!” Yes . “I just want us to stop trying to sabotage him. That’s all.”

Donella’s eyes dart back and forth, deep in thought. Every second that she doesn’t speak dials up Hugo’s anxiety another notch. His stomach is turning so much he feels like a washing machine.

“Ok,” she finally sighs. “If that’s what you want. I won’t push you.” His face brightens up so fast that Donella almost begs for forgiveness. “You can tell him we surrender. Go to him.”

Hugo moves to hug her, before pausing, and then racing off down the hall. She sighs. That poor boy, she was like him once. She thought she could love a royal. That they’d move the parliament and all the stars in the sky to be happy. But the country always came first, no matter how hard they tried otherwise. And it cost her everything.

She just needs to show him that.

Another miss. This time the flame extinguisher isn’t needed.

Varian sighs, dropping his head in defeat, staring at the dead arrow a few feet from the target. Coronan law requires that he shoot a flaming arrow through a hoop after his coronation. Something about the eternal flame? But clumsy klutzy Varian has only managed to shoot beer cans and car tires. And not on purpose. 

“I think that’s enough flaming ones for now,” he admits defeat, turning to Catalina, who looks just a tad bit relieved. “I didn’t manage to burn you, did I?”

“Only a little,” she remarks, examining her shirt sleeve. It’s black from when she tried to help him. 

“Only as hot as your hair,” Nuru teases, and Catalina snickers. Varian has a sneaking suspicion the two of them are getting along better than he ever could. Solidarity, probably. 

He goes to shoot another (non-flaming) arrow, but the sound of whistling pricks his ears, distracting him enough that the arrow flies clean over the target and nearly hits Kiera. “Sorry!” He turns to Nuru. “A word?” 

The woman pulls her friend over, while Kiera and Catalina commiserate over their wounds from his poor shooting. “Look. Over there. But with your eyes, not your head.” Nuru does as she’s told, and she sees the golden hair peeking out from where he’s nose deep in a book. 

Nuru sighs. “Do you want me to shoo her or shoo him, just tell me who to shoo.” 

“I just need to talk to Hugo for a second.” that gets a groan from her. “For a second! He said something weird to my aunt, and I gotta. Talk to him.”

“Oh, so a murder. Gotcha, gotcha,” he sputters, but before he can tell her otherwise, she goes to grab the girls. “Hey, you said you’d introduce me to your dad, right? Varian will be along for brunch but let’s get out of harm’s way for now.”

Catalina laughs, and Varian tries to force some sort of reaction. A blush, a giddy rush, anything to her laugh. But all he feels is fond annoyance. 

He opens his mouth to ask what the hell he meant by surrender , but Hugo grabs an arrow and asks, “Do you want some help?” And well, Varian can’t say no to that, can he? Not when he needs to get this down pat. 

“Take your stance.” He does as told, pulling the arrow way far back with ease. Hugo snickers. “Elbow down a bit there,” he gently pushes on it, and electricity zaps down Varian’s spine. “Relax your hand.” Hugo brushes his hand on top of the one holding the bow, placing his other hand on Varian’s shoulder with a feather light touch that feels almost incapacitating. Their torsos are practically touching, back to chest, he can feel Hugo breathing just as much as he can hear it in his ear. “Now, release.”

The arrow hits dead on. 

“Oh…” Varian’s face breaks out into a grin, and Hugo stares deep into it, at his slightly chapped lips, at the pearly teeth. 

“How did that feel?”

“...Wonderful,” Varian sighs dreamily. He looks up to thank Hugo, and finds himself in the same place, staring at Hugo’s lips. 

Their breaths are intermingling. It feels almost like they shouldn’t be out in public. 

Varian is the first to break away. He has to. 

“I have to go,” Hugo admits, hands in his pockets. “I really only came back to pack my things.” 

The words pull on Varian’s eyes, pressure building. “You’re leaving…?”

Hugo nods. “I think it’s time I bowed out gracefully.” He offers a hand, and Varian takes it. “See you around.” Just like the first time they held hands, they’re as soft as before, pale and freckled and smooth. Varian’s fingers linger, desperate to hold onto the last warmth. 

“Bye,” he parrots, almost dazed. He goes to leave, but then they’re hands are holding again, and god, Varian never wants to let go this time. But once again Hugo pulls away. He looks almost conflicted. 

“Can I see you one more time? Before I go?” their eyes meet. 

And doesn’t that just sound… So perfect? But reality hits Varian before he can say yes. “I’m watched like a hawk.” Speak of the devil, he can see Eugene headed their way.

“I’ll figure something out,” Hugo promises.

Only 3 more days until the wedding, and Rapunzel is starting to feel the pressure.

Of course, as a queen, she never shows it. She has to keep a strong, calm facade for her people. But as she stands in the foyer, eyes trailing the table settings she must approve, the days are beginning to take their toll. How Ulla did it all on her own, she’ll never understand. She feels like she’s stretched so thin she’ll rip like a sheet of paper.

With a sigh, she presses the play button on the small recorder. The last thing she has to do today is pick the songs for dancing at the reception. Faint orchestral music fills the room, and yet it feels so empty and alone as she slowly dances in place. 

That is, until she turns and suddenly she’s in Eugene’s arms. Her face stretches into her classic sunshine grin, fully recharged and full of energy as the man twirls her around in her heels. It’s as if the pain from standing is all but gone, she could do this forever. 

Eugene smiles at her, and she rests her head on his shoulder. “Have you been thinking about us?” he asks, and the smile falls.

She looks up with a pained look, and his smile falls too. “I see,” he begins to step away, but she follows like a magnet. “I should-”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say.” 

“I know what you’re going to say.” 

Her eyes look at the floor in shame. She feels like a child again, scolded by her father as he teaches her to dance. “Varian needs me now more than ever. He’s going to be King at such a young age, as Queen it’s my responsibility! You…” she sighs. “You know how it is.” 

Eugene takes just a small step back, not to separate, but to end their dance. A new song is blaring on the recording but neither of them notice. “You were never just a Queen to me, Rapunzel. You were… you are someone I want to spend the rest of my life with.” her green eyes are glistening with tears as he speaks. “But… if you want me to see you as my Queen first, I will…”

“Eugene-!” but he’s stepping away now, back into the hall to resume his duties, taking Rapunzel’s heart with him as he goes.

She staggers over to the recording and turns it off.

Varian is in the middle of his diary when he hears a commotion at his door.

“Lady Nuru, may we announce you?”

“No need! NURU KOTO! Varian! Varian!” 

“What! What!” He jolts up as she practically barrels into him. 

“Look out your window.”

Well that’s not the fire he was expecting. “What?”

“Just- do it!” 

With a roll of his eyes, he goes, leaning his elbows on the windowsill. And he sees Hugo, whistling once again, as he always does, who taught that boy to whistle with those sinful lips? He’s chucking pebbles at the castle wall, thankfully not hitting any glass, but the gesture is the same nonetheless. 

“Hugo!” He whispers, then raises his voice. “Hugo, what the heck are you doing?”

Instead of answering, Hugo just clears his throat. “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, with hair so fine,” Varian tries not to gag at the fact that his aunt was named after the fairytale, “Come out your window, climb down that vine.” 

Deep breath, Varian. He came back just like he said, it’s not his fault that he’s absolutely terrible at flirting when he’s for real. No, it was totally his fault. He should really say no, should really go to bed, but the sheer awfulness of the rhyme spurs him on. “The feat you ask, dear sir, isn't easy. And I won't respond to that line, it's far too cheesy.” Hugo grins, and he grins right back.

“So?” Nuru asks when he pulls himself in. “What’s he want?”

“He wants me to climb down the vine.”

“And… Do you want to?” Varian looks at her like she’s a chicken. “So go!”

“I- It’s a recipe for disaster!” He cries. For all he knows Hugo is going to murder him after getting him to let his guard down!

“Oh come on, do something impulsive for once!” Nuru goads him.

“We did impulsive stuff all the time as kids.”

“Do you want a normal bachelor party, with like, strippers? Or do you want your almost Prince Charming to whisk you away for the night?” She continues. God, she’s good at this. She’s going to start a nuclear war when she inevitably becomes president somewhere. 

He pulls his lips into his mouth, nodding slowly, and then faster, admitting defeat. 

It’s not easy climbing down a vine. Rapunzel his ass .

For starters, the vine is a good bit away from his window, so he has to lean out all the way just to get a grip, and then he has to pull himself out of the window while holding on. That would be hard enough for anyone who wasn’t as mobility-challenged as him, and he immediately slams face first into a window. 

God he hopes no one is there. 

Hugo holds his arms out, clearly trying not to laugh, but Varian needs to retain some of his dignity, damnit! He’s a big boy, he can do this! Even if he never passed rope climbing in high school!

That last fact catches up to him when he loses his footing and falls right on top of Hugo, screaming all the while. Hugo lets out his own cry of pain as they fall back on his tailbone.

“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you again!?” Varian whisper-screams, shooting up when he realizes he’s on top of the poor bastard. 

“I’m used to it at this point.” 

Nuru leans out the window with a smirk. “I’ll cover for you. Go Rapunzel, go!”

“Don’t use my aunt’s name!” Varian hisses up at her as Hugo grabs his hand and the two make a run for it.

They take the horses, riding into the misty night as fog covers the path and shines under unkept streetlights. The woods look almost magical, stars shining overhead as their only company, with no one in sight as they finally settle by a small brook. The water is clear and still, straight out of a fairytale as they settle underneath a large oak. Hugo lays his coat on the ground like a gentleman, and Varian rolls his eyes before grabbing blankets from the horses’ saddles and laying it out between them. And then… they talk. All night. Just back and forth, about anything and everything. The night lasts forever and yet not at all, the stars turning above.

“Tell me your greatest desires,” Hugo says as they hold a thumb war that neither is actually trying to win. 

“Tell me a secret,” Varian offers instead.

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Varian’s thumb flicks his. “Almost, but anyone can know your desires. A secret is just between the two of us.” 

“Alright,” Hugo’s grin is lovesick. “Go on, then.” 

Varian thinks for a moment. “I love ham sandwiches, and when I was younger I would draw on facial hair.” 

Hugo barks out a laugh. It rings in the clearing. “You’re kidding.”

“I burned all the photos, but it’s true.” 

“I’m gonna ask your dad. I’m sure he’s got a copy somewhere.”

“He better not,” Varian grumbles. “What about you?” 

He thinks for a moment. “I used to fake sick when I had a test in school.”

“Everyone did that.”

He’s not wrong. “I like white chocolate more than milk.”

“I’m deathly afraid of jellyfish.” Varian is looking at their thumbs dancing back and forth, but all Hugo can see is the smile on the prince’s face.

“We haven’t danced since your birthday.” 

Varian looks up. “That’s a fact, not a secret.” With an evil grin, he pushes down on Hugo’s thumb. Hugo wriggles his arm around to try and break free but Varian’s got a grip like an iron maiden. 

“The secret…” Hugo says softly. “Is that I still want to.”

They lock eyes for the first time in a while. 

There are ducks on the lake now. Just two of them, swimming side by side in the moonlight without a sound. Maybe they have babies stashed somewhere in the clearing. On the banks, Hugo and Varian engage in the slowest waltz either of them has ever done. It’s more of a swaying back and forth, relishing in each other’s warmth at the coldest time of day. Hugo’s breath is hot on the other’s neck, hand wrapped around Varian’s waist. Their hands are practically locked, and yet still, their thumbs are teasing, more carressing. 

Their foreheads are touching. 

When morning comes, they’re still holding hands. 

Varian’s head rests on Hugo’s chest, his knees curled in under the horse blanket, pressing up against Hugo’s stomach. He doesn’t mind, his head resting on top of Varian’s. He rubs his thumb across Varian’s knuckles. 

The sun beams across Varian’s eyes, and he groans.

“Good morning,” Hugo whispers, running a hand through Varian’s hair.

With a sigh, Varian raises his head so that he can see Hugo’s face. Their noses are practically touching. “Morning.” he greets back with a smile in his voice. “We stayed out all night…”

“Yeah…”

It takes a second for the words to have meaning, but when they do, Varian bolts up. “We stayed out all night.” His face is pale, hair askew as he rushes to sit up properly. He looks back at Hugo. And they both break into giggles. “Is that…” in between laughter, Varian glances back at the once empty brook. “There’s a man in that boat…”

“Wait, what?” Now Hugo’s concerned. “Is it a fisherman?”

The man in question rises up out of the boat, and Varian’s smile falls off his face.

“...With a video camera?” 

If hell has frozen over, it’s frozen Hugo with it. “What…?” he didn’t tell anyone about this, anyone except…

“Oh no, Varian, I-”

“You’re really low,” Varian snaps, balling up the blanket as he stands up. He’s practically shaking with anger, and yet, there are tears in his eyes as he marches over to the horses. 

“Varian, please-”

“You know, it’s a shame you didn’t get juicer stuff last night, you ASS!” The last part has the blanket thrown at Hugo. He catches it easily. 

Varian’s back to hanging him by his toes. He’s going straight to Eugene. Straight to whoever can stop that cameraman before anyone finds out about this. 

“Varian, I have nothing to do with this, I swear,” Hugo begs, following in line behind him, but Varian just puffs out steam, hauling himself over the saddle of the horse. “That is not my boat!”

“Hey, Hugo? Have a nice life.” He snaps the reins. 

“But that is my horse!” His words fall on deaf ears as Varian rides out and back to the castle. 

Hugo sighs, eyeing Varian’s horse. “You mind if I take you home?”

He gets a puff in the face for his efforts.

“Catalina!” The redhead ignores him as she walks down the steps away from the palace. Her fists are clenched so tight he’s afraid she’ll hurt herself. “Cat, I am so so sorry.” She rolls her eyes and speeds up, but he follows. “Wait, I j- nothing happened, I swear!”

Catalina whips around, her braid almost hitting him in the face. “Yeah, but you still went.” She jabs a finger into his chest. “I’ll have you know, I am still young and eligible! I have lots of friends, of, of people who like me, my dad is close with Eugene, and-” she cuts herself off, running a hand down her face. “I still think this marriage is a good idea.” she finally admits. “It… the law says you have to, but-”

“But?” Varian’s eyes are devastated.

She takes him in. Really takes him in. He’s panting for breath, desperate, so desperate for this to work. But she needs to tell him the truth. 

Catalina takes both of her hands and captures his face. “Look at me.” She says. “Look at me. What do you feel? Do you want to kiss me?”

She can see it click into place, the devastated expression. “No.” he admits. “I see you as a friend. There’s just no… spark.” 

She sighs, letting go of his face. “Me neither.”

Well, there goes his kingship. Is this what Hugo wanted? Probably. Definitely. What a dick.

He knows it’s not.

“What are we gonna do…?” he whines, collapsing onto the staircase, burying his face in his hands. 

“Hey,” Catalina sits down beside him. “We’ll figure it out. You chose me.” he looks up at her through his fingers. “And I accepted. I accepted knowing this might happen going in. Besides, we don’t,” she sighs. “I mean, look at past monarchies. They didn’t always get along with their spouses! We at least get along, right?”

“I’m glad to have you as a friend,” he agrees. “Just maybe not as a fiance, yknow?”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighs. “But, there’s no backing out now. And… I mean… we can just,” she makes a crude gesture. “Have mistresses? Mistrii? What’s the male term for mistress?”

“Paramour.”

“Like the band?”

Sun shines through a grand window, illuminating a prince who never slept to begin with. He sighs, turning his head to see Ruddiger quite pleased with the sun, lounging in the morning without a care in the world. He envies him. “I’m getting married today,” he says out loud. It doesn’t feel real, even when spoken. None of it does. None of the preparation they’ve done leading up to this has felt genuine, felt like it was for him. And yet…

With a huge sigh, he heaves himself out of bed, more like rolling. Maybe not fitting for a prince, but he doesn’t really care right now. He’s tired. 

“I see someone’s not a morning person still.” 

He froze at the voice, turning around to see the one person he’s needed so badly in all this. “Dad!” He scrambles upright to crash into the large man’s chest, practically bowling him over with the force. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, you silly boy. It’s your wedding.”

Oh yeah. Duh. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, burrowing into the safe arms of his dad, pretending he’s six again and the biggest problem was that his bed was too big. Quirin simply laughs, letting him pretend for just a moment longer. King or no, he’ll always need his dad, he thinks. 

He stays with Varian throughout the preparations, holding his hand as he’s subjected to the worst torture known to man: makeup.

Donella sighs, finally complete with her lips. “Hugo, are you ready?” She peers into the living room to find Hugo once again not sitting properly, this time sitting on the back of the chair instead of the actual chair. “Hugo.” she puts her hands on her hips. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.” 

“I’m not going,” he grumbles. “It’s probably for the best.”

Ever since he came back from that night in the clearing, he’s been sulking to the point where it’s getting a little sad. He’s constantly pouting, making longing sighs, the whole shebang. It’s quite the show, her boy is putting on. She’d pity him if it weren’t for the best.

“Hugo,” she sits on the chair proper, her hand in his. For a moment, he almost thinks she’s going to hug him, to pull him into her lap like when he was little. Then she pushes him off the back of the chair. “Come on. The least you can do is see this through.”

He lays on the ground and accepts the end. “I don’t get it,” Hugo snaps. “Not that I’m complaining, but it really seems less like you want me on the throne and more like you want anyone but Varian on the throne.”

Donella raises a brow. “You’re right. Without me you’d run this country to the ground.” 

“THEN WHY ARE YOU SO AGAINST THIS!?” He shrieks, shooting up. “Oh! I get it! It’s because you want to rule.” He sticks a finger in his aunt’s face. “You want all that power for yourself. You’re sick of being told what to do by people you think are stupid so you’d rather tell the stupid people what to do!” He lets out an incredulous laugh. “Unbelievable! I don’t know why I ever thought you had faith in me!” 

Her impassive face stretches thin, and oh, there’s that emotion that he hasn’t seen in forever. In fact, he hasn’t seen it in like, 7 years. Around the time that Queen Ulla…

Oh.

“Hugo,” she pats the chair, and Hugo plops down silently. “As you know, I was… very close with the former Queen, Varian’s mother. She and I… we were, in a sense, like you and Varian are now.”

“But Ulla loved her country first, loved her people first. She needed an heir… something I couldn’t give her. But Quirin could.” She sighs. “The people needed someone to look forward to. To know that if anything happened, the kingdom would be safe. And then… something happened.”

“She died.” Hugo says. Donella’s lip trembles.

“Yes. She died. But before she did, she…” she takes a shaky breath. “She asked me… begged me… not to let Varian take the throne so young. The throne, it ruins you. When you’re on your own, without your parents, stuck between parliament’s games and whims… it may be a life of splendor, but it’s no life worth living. I… never expected Varian to take the throne at this age, and when it became apparent he would, I panicked . I needed to show him that the throne is not a prize to be won without great sacrifice. Like the kind his mother… his mother and I had to make.” she tucks a strand of gold behind Hugo’s ears. “I’m sorry I put you in the middle of this.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” he spits. “You never considered that I’m the same age as him, and you’d be right back where you started.”

“But you’d have me,” she explains. “You’d have someone who knows the pains and sacrifices that comes with being King.”

“And the Queen doesn’t? Her majesty is-!”

“Going to run off with her security the second she’s free,” she gives him a pointed look. Ok, fair enough. But still, this isn’t an excuse for all the trickery and lies and false pretenses. 

“Don,” Hugo places a hand on her knee. “You don’t need to worry about him. Haven’t we seen first-hand how Varian is ready and willing to do this? He’s marrying someone he doesn’t love because he cares about the country.”

“But his mother-!”

“Regretted her choice, sure. Do you think Varian will regret it?”

Donella opens her mouth to snap back of course , but the more she thinks, the more it’s not true, and it’s so obvious now. She closes her mouth with a snap. 

“When did you get so grown up?” she remarks. “I swear just a moment ago you were my immature party boy.” he preens under her touch. Her face hardens into something determined, but not cruel. “Go to him,” she says. “You’ve changed my mind. Now help him change the world’s.” 

His grin is bright. “I won’t let you down.”

“Oh Hugo,” she cooes. “You never could.”

The ceremony is lovely for everyone except Varian, and he’s fucking dying right now. 

All of the chapel is bathed in serene white, almost angelic in the glow that settles over everyone. All of the nobility and all of the working class who wait for him outside are ecstatic, a royal wedding hasn’t happened in quite some time, after all. The cameras are rolling on his face, forcing him to try and look at least somewhat excited. He watches as Kiera, the maid of honor, who pitches a shit fit at the dress the castle staff forced her into, strolls down the aisle with a smile he knows is so fake. They share a pity glance.

“Hey, Eugene,” he whispers to his side, where Eugene is standing at the ready in case anything were to go wrong. The man looks somehow even more nervous than he is, which is surprising since Varian is about to throw up. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry you’re quitting.”

Eugene startles. “Who told you that?” He scolds.

“Maids know everything.” Eugene snorts fondly. 

“Don’t worry about me, kid. My job is to worry about you.”

“But… what are you gonna do?” The thought of Eugene without Rapunzel is one he can barely even imagine. It sounds like an oxymoron. 

Instead of answering Eugene says, “Did you know, Hugo didn’t set you up?”

Those simple words send his stomach swooping even more so than it was before. It’s like a bucket of ice is dunked on his head. “What?”

“Maids know everything,” Eugene shrugs. He turns back as the music picks up, ignoring Varian’s bewildered look. Catalina strides in, a vision in white. Her long red hair is pulled into a massive bun that’s held together by prayer alone, braided all throughout. Her dress isn’t overly poofy, but not skin-tight either, falling behind her in a massive train. Satin sleeves rest on her shoulders, with a lace collar going up across her neck. The veil is similarly long to her train, carried by two young nobles who don’t seem to understand what’s going on. In all, she looks gorgeous, like a goddess.

But not like a woman he loves.

Still, he smiles, putting on the face he needs to for his people. Even if they never fall in love, he’s glad to know her, to have her by his side… right? It’s ok if he’s in a loveless marriage, he knows he’s not alone in that regard… She steps up to the altar, and he takes her hand in his. It’s calloused, not nearly as soft as Hugo’s. The thought forms a lump in his throat. He can barely hear what the priest is saying, what the people around him are saying. All he can think about is that this is about to be his life forever , that he’s going to have to fake smiles and pose for pictures with a woman he likes, but doesn’t love, and it just all feels so wrong. The world is beginning to warp around him, colors not constrained by the objects they represent. It’s all bleeding together into one brown and white haze that he can’t shake himself out of. And then, just as fast as it came on, it’s gone. The priest is looking at him. He can’t really hear him over the drowning in his ears, but he can see on his mouth the vows they’d prepared. This is it. He just has to open his mouth and say two simple words and seal his fate forever-

“I-”

He catches a flash of gold.

“I need a minute.”

Hugo finds him dry heaving in a small garden hideaway. 

For all the pomp and circumstance of the day, he looks like total shit. His face is slick with sweat, tears dripping down his face as he heaves for each breath in an attempt to get it all out at once. There’s no way he’ll be able to finish the ceremony like this. 

He’s beautiful.

“Varian?” He calls, hoping not to startle the prince, but he’s on enough edge that he’s spooked anyway. “Oh, Varian…” 

He slides down on the ground next to the prince, resting on his knee so that he’s looking up at him. “Deep breaths, in and out.”

“I’m-” Varian stammers. “I’m sorry, I’m so-sorry. I just need a minute.”

“Take your time,” he soothes, though he breathes a massive sigh of relief when the Queen comes into view, her heels clacking as she rushes over to support Varian who’s about to keel over.

“I can do this,” he parrots over and over, as if to convince not just them, but himself. “I can… I can…” his voice breaks, and he looks down at Hugo, the most defeated he’s ever seen him. “I can’t do this…” 

“I know.” Rapunzel runs a soothing hand over his back. “We know.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, Hugo, I didn’t, I couldn’t-”

“It’s fine. I’m sorry I told Don where we’d be.” his face hardens. “She says she’s sorry, too. She was trying to protect you from the same unhappiness your mom had.”

“By making me marry someone I don’t love…?” the confusion seems to slow the panic.

Hugo smiled, eyes shining like he could hang the moon in the sky. “She didn’t expect you to be so stubborn.” 

“Varian, sweetie, listen to us,” Rapunzel interjects. “We made our choices, your mother and I. We put our country before ourselves. Before love. And,” her smile turns distant. “It cost us both. It was drummed into us our whole lives, and we lost the people we loved as a result.” she tucks a sweaty strand behind his ear. There’s a small scuffle, the sound of a shoe on pavement, and when Hugo glances back, he sees the love in question, Eugene’s anxious glance to make sure they’re all ok, Hugo included. 

“Your mom didn’t want you to make the same mistake she did,” Hugo offers. “It’s what she told my aunt. Make your own mistakes. I’ve seen you do it already.”

“Shut up,” Varian grouches, but there’s a smile on his face. It’s the best smile he’s ever seen, Hugo thinks. 

Rapunzel says, “Now, you can go back in that church, and you can get married, or you can walk away. Whatever you do,” she glances down at Hugo. “You’ll have the people who love you on your side.” 

Varian takes a shuddering breath, almost choking. Then he exhales slowly, surely. His shoulders roll back into the perfect image of a king. His face hardens into that of determination. “Ok. Let’s go.”

Hugo blinks. “Wait, back to the church? I thought the whole point of this was that you wouldn’t be getting married!”

Varian smirks. “Who said I was still getting married?”

When the doors slide open, it’s not a prince walking down the aisle to the end of his life the people see. It’s a King with a mission. 

Everyone feels the atmosphere change in an instant, sitting up straighter, quieting down as he takes calculated, fast steps towards Catalina. She looks bewildered, as if she wasn’t expecting him to come back. He can’t blame her.

“Catalina,” he lowers her voice when he reaches her. Then quietly, he slides off the ring she gave him. “Everyone deserves a chance to find happiness, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“Including us?” 

It’s the best unproposal she’s ever seen. “Thank you,” she breathes, entire body deflating like a balloon as the stress of future Queen is literally lifted off her shoulders. “Now I just have to… tell my dad.”

“I have to tell everyone else.”

A beat. “Good luck,” they whisper in unison, and Catalina steps away from the altar, much to the confusion of the crowd. Varian ignores them, politely asking the priest for the microphone as he stands in front of his people. 

He clears his throat. “Hi,” he says, because of course he does. “Hello everyone, thank you for coming. So, up until a few moments ago I was going to get married.” he pauses as the people realize what this meant. “And the only reason I was getting married was because of a law made hundreds of years ago by people who could have never foreseen the circumstances of our world today. Just because I was raised outside of Coronan soil I was deemed unfit for the throne, despite my years of training, and my mother, Queen Ulla.” The entire audience listens with intention, all of parliament in the rafters leaning forward. Meanwhile, outside, people listen through the radio or on televisions across the country. Everything is at a standstill, all eyes are on Varian. And he is radiant. 

“I ask the parliament to think about your children. The ones you’ve sent abroad for schooling. The people of Corona who fled during war. The people of what once was Saporia who still have family here. Everyone around the world, who is a part of our great nation, yet cannot live their lives to the fullest because of the ground on which they were raised. I think my dad did a pretty good job raising me, Corona or no!” From his place in the front row, Quirin sighs fondly, tears in his eyes. “I love Corona so much. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. None of us would. So, members of parliament,” he glances firm down at the men and women. “I ask that we repeal the law that requires Coronan royalty to be of or in marriage with one born on Coronan soil. Will anyone sponsor me?”

The crowd rings with silence.

Well. Shit. 

“I.”

All heads turn to the end of the aisle, where Donella stands. Her eyes are the softest Hugo’s ever seen them, almost proud. “I will sponsor the motion.”

With the person to bring up the law to begin with sponsoring its removal, the parliament folds from there. “I,” an old man calls. “I!” cries one of the younger women. “I.” says a third. And suddenly all of parliament is calling their agreement. 

“Your highness, by the order of the court of this land,” Donella steps forward, taking both of Varian’s hands in her own. “We formally repeal the law of Coronan birthright. You’re free to do as you wish.” a tear falls down her face. “Your mother would be proud.”

“Thank you,” Varian whispers as cheers ring out throughout the room. “I know Hugo is proud of you too,” he glances down into the crowd, where Hugo stands in the back. He’s leaning against a pillar, but the smile on his face is anything but casual. Varian wishes nothing more than to wipe it off his face with a kiss. Though kissing in a wedding chapel may not be a wise idea…

It hits him like a bolt of lightning. He grabs one of the nearby security and motions for their earpiece.

“Your majesty,” Cassandra whispers to Rapunzel, who has been standing to the side, proud of her nephew beyond words. “The prince would like a word.”

“He can just call me over,” she grumbles, but takes the earpiece anyway. Cassandra is forced to lean in close as they talk. 

“Rapunzel,” he whispers into the microphone. She turns to look at him, forcing Cass to turn with her. “Just because I didn’t get a fairytale ending doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.” After all, a Queen named after a fairytale princess deserves all the happiness that comes with the title, shouldn’t she? 

Rapunzel balks. “Cass… did you. Did you hear that?”

“Not if you didn’t want me to.”

“It was rhetorical- I-um…” her voice cuts off as Eugene approaches. His suit is impeccable, not a speck of dust out of place, his goatee perfectly trimmed… he looks like a prince straight out of a fantasy. “Eugene.”

“Your majesty.”

“Oh… Eugene…” she sighs, tears in her eyes. “Am I too late to ask you to ask you to accept my hand in marriage?”

Eugene chuckles. “My dear, I thought you’d never ask.” he rips off his earbud, tossing it to the side. Nuru catches it with ease, putting it in her ear. “I’m in charge now,” she whispers, and no one dares to question it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry this is all so short notice,” Rapunzel flusters as she walks arm in arm with Eugene down the aisle. As she passes Catalina, the lady hands the Queen her bouquet. “But everyone's already here and dressed, so we may as well!” Her voice pitches upwards, she’s practically vibrating in place as Eugene smiles fondly. It helps that she’s wearing lilac, a light color that may as well be a fashionable wedding dress. But she doesn’t really care for all the fanciness, anyway. She just wants Eugene as her husband.

“Hi, Archbishop, if you would please, we’d like to get married!” All formalities have gone out the window, it seems.

The bishop seems to think so too, because he simply says, “Finally.”

Varian has to hide his laughter behind his hand at Rapunzel’s offended look. They don’t make it too long, it’s clear the two just want it over with. “With this ring, I thee wed,” Eugene says, taking the ring that was meant for Catalina and sliding it onto Rapunzel. They’ll get it refitted later. 

“I pronounce you man and wife.” Says the bishop, and Rapunzel practically drags Eugene in for a kiss as the whole chapel breaks into applause.

It’s a bit strange, now that he thinks about it, that the coronation ceremony is going to take place in the palace. 

Their throne room isn’t particularly grand, being so small a country and all, but their original coronation chapel was destroyed decades ago and no one ever really bothered getting around to rebuilding it. Maybe he’ll do that, Varian muses, as he lounges on the throne that will soon be his permanently. “What do you think, Ruddy?” He looks down at where the fat cat is sitting on a pillow. He won’t be allowed to do that during the ceremony, but maybe he can get away with it during less formal events. The locals would get a kick out of it. “Think I’ll be a good king?” 

“I think so.”

Varian sits upright, breaking out into a smile as Hugo comes into view. He’s back in his comfy rolled up shirt, and boy does Varian love those arms of his. Even if they’re skinny as twigs. He comes up to the front of the throne room. “If I may be so bold, I’d like to request an audience with his highness…?” 

“By all means,” Varian gestures forward.

“So,” Varian crosses his legs at the ankles and sits up straight, hands on the arm rests. “What seems to be the problem, young sir?”

“You are.” he leans down on one knee, doesn’t pull out a ring, thankfully, he knows that’ll be a touchy subject for a few years. “I’m in love with the King-to-be, and I’m here to see if he loves me too…?”

Varian’s eyes are brighter than any summer star, his teeth more brilliant than any morning sun. “Are you ok with cats?”

“Yeah I’m a cat person.”

Oh, score. Their little game be damned, Varian steps up from his throne and down the steps into Hugo’s waiting arms, where he spins them around. For a moment, they simply bask in the embrace, rocking back and forth with a desire to never let go. And while they eventually have to physically part, Varian doesn’t plan on letting this boy go anytime soon. He pulls away just enough to pull Hugo into a deep kiss, his hands caressing the blonde’s face. Hugo responds in turn by grabbing Varian’s thighs, pulling him up into the air once more. There’s a lightness on his foot, he must’ve lost a shoe in this movement, but Varian doesn’t care. All that matters is the feeling of Hugo on his lips, that this, this is right. This is what he should be doing as King. 

And it’s quite a freeing feeling.