Work Text:
When it had first happened, Varian hadn’t have a word for it.
He had been five years old when he dropped an experiment on the floor. The glass shattered everywhere. His Dad had yelled, louder than ever before, surging towards him in a fury that made Varian’s body scream that he was in danger.
Varian had clawed at his own chest, unable to breathe, the world spinning around him. The glass had not hit him and yet it felt like he was dying and even as a five year old he knew he was overreacting but he simply could not stop it. The glass was broken and his Dad was angry and he could not breathe.
He wanted to fight, needed to fight, to run, to do anything but just stand there but he just. Could. Not. Breathe.
Quirin crouched down, pulling Varian into his arms but that only made everything worse and when Varian started sobbing he could not stop that either, pounding his fists into his Dad’s chest. It had taken a long time before the tears stopped and even then it was out of pure exhaustion. Varian had sagged into Quirin’s arms, head still spinning and heart still racing.
“Breathe, Varian,” Quirin had cooed, running fingers through his hair. “You are okay. You are safe.”
His Dad had not been angry that Varian had broken the glass, he had been scared that Varian would be hurt from the shards. Quirin had apologised for yelling and Varian had apologised for hitting him. They shared a single hot chocolate that night and his Dad had even let him have the froth.
Everything was okay again.
But then the next week it had happened again. Not the broken glass; the tightness in his chest. The need to fight. The need to run away. The feeling that everything was wrong. Nothing had happened to cause such a reaction but by the time that Quirin had taken Varian into his arms, Varian was inconsolable, digging his nails into Quirin’s skin, screaming at Quirin that he hated him.
“I love you Son.” Quirin had replied, holding him ever more tightly.
No matter what Varian did, no matter how good of a day he had had or how busy or un-busy he was with chores, it kept happening.
They had only buried Varian’s mother that past Winter but each day Varian heard his Dad talk to her, plead with her to tell him how to fix Varian. Quirin never said those words in front of Varian himself of course but he had heard them all the same. His Dad wanted to fix him because he was broken.
Broken things get thrown in the bin, like that shattered glass.
The next time his heart beat quickly and his hands got all shaky, he took off into the woods so that his Dad would not see him and deem him as broken. He clutched at his chest, forcing himself to breathe, forcing himself to run faster. His Dad could not see him like this.
Nobody could see him like this.
For a time Varian had felt a little better, the wind in his hair soothing him and the animals in the trees giving him something to look at. But then he heard voices, shouts of his name, and that clawing feeling was back. He scrambled up the closest tree, desperate to get away from whoever was chasing him, but the branch snapped and suddenly Varian was on the ground and he was screaming and everything hurt and his Dad was there and he was being carried and then darkness.
Another thing about these moments was that afterwards everything felt fuzzy, even the memories. Varian knew that his Dad had not watched him fall from the tree and yet it had felt like Quirin had been right there, just a second too late to catch him. Perhaps Qurin hadn’t wanted to catch him, he was broken after all and you do not catch broken things. Time had moved so quickly and yet so slowly and by the time Varian knew that he had fallen he was already back at home, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his arm tied up in a sling.
“Varian,” Quirin had said. “Why would you run away like that? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” Varian said.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No.”
Something had flashed in his Dad’s eyes then. Disappointment maybe. Annoyance. Varian wasn’t really sure. All he knew was that his Dad could not know when he felt his lungs hurt and his head spin and his hands shake. Varian was broken but if his Dad did not know that then maybe his Dad would keep loving him.
Varian grew but these momentary flashes of pure panic grew with him and they never seemed so momentary. Panic, his Dad had said one day, is what happens when you feel really really scared. But Varian could never be scared of his Dad. Qurin might be tall and big but he wasn’t scary. Yet sometimes Quiran moved too quickly or spoke too loudly and Varian’s entire body would scream that he was in danger and he would ‘panic’ like a rabbit caught in a trap would.
It didn’t make any sense.
Varian must truely be broken after all if his own Dad made him feel like that.
It wasn’t just Quirin that would set off these ‘panic attacks’ as Varian had started calling them. Lightning most often caused it and whenever the sky flashed bright he would in a single instant start shaking, cowering into himself as if that would help anything. He had taken to hiding when storms came, inventing blinds that could be lowered at a single moments notice just in case there was lightning so that he could prevent a panic attack from even starting.
It worked, for the most part, which was good because only broken people have panic attacks and if Quirin knew that Varian was broken he would send him away. Other things were not as predictable as storms though and Varian would have to scramble to get to safety whenever a bully cornered him or glass shattered too close to him.
He tried to manage possible triggers for panic attacks before they even happened and sometimes it would even work. If he wrote a list of what his Dad needed from the market then he wouldn’t have to come back with the wrong things and his Dad wouldn’t give him that look that always made his chest seize, that look that Varian had failed him.
Varian would still come home with too many things of course but too many things were often better than not enough, at least until his father yelled at him for having spent too much money one day.
After that, Varian was careful to stick strictly to the shopping list but even making the list seemed to make the panic claw at him.
After a while Varian had somehow been able to predict more panic attacks before they even happened and he could avoid them altogether. Bullies could not corner him if he never left the house. Quirin could not be angry with him about experiments that he did not know about. It was as if he had learned the rules of the world at last, rules that he had had to learn by himself to prove that he was not broken, and everything finally made sense. These panic attacks were just his bodies way of telling him that he was a stupid idiot that kept making stupid mistakes.
Varian was almost proud of himself, having worked out the panic attacks at last, but since his Dad did not mention the decreased occurrence and severity of these attacks, Varian did not mention it either. Only broken people have panic attacks and Quirin did not need to be reminded that Varian was broken, even if he was working so hard to fix himself.
As Varian grew older, it felt like the distance between him and his Dad grew too. Quirin had stopped asking his dead wife for advice on how to fix him, having given up on Varian completely. They didn’t hug anymore either, they barely even saw each other outside of meals and even then Varian learned to not talk about his experiments less his Dad get angry with him but he had nothing else to talk about so the meals would pass in silence.
Varian could not quite remember the last time Qurin had told him that he loved him but it was almost easier that way anyway. If Quirin had stopped pretending to love him then there were less chances for Varian to disappoint him and Qurin would not have to throw him to the streets because he kept having panic attacks.
By the time Varian had met Rapunzel, the attacks had almost completely disappeared. Better yet, getting to know the Princess had been such a whirl wind of an adventure that months had passed without a single panic attack so perhaps he had been finally cured of his weakness completely. But he wasn’t cured. No, he wasn’t cured because the moment the amber began encasing his father he could feel his chest tighten all over again and it was like he was five years old again, beating his hands against Quirin.
Even as he planned his revenge, his hands did not stop shaking. Every single day, no every single moment, Varian was overwhelmed by sheer panic but he shoved it down, focusing on the task at hand. He was doing this for his Dad and his Dad would not want to break free from the amber only to remember that his son was broken.
None of the techniques he had learned seemed to help ease the pain either so he just suffered through it, exhaustion dragging at him as he jumped at every little sound.
The panic was the worst its ever been but there was no one to blame but himself. No. That wasn’t right. He could blame Rapunzel. Rapunzel had promised to always be there for him but she had abandoned him, discarded him when he needed her the most.
She had to pay.
Time moved quickly and Varian had barely even registered what was happening until suddenly he was thrown into a cell, his whole body sore and his panic rearing its ugly head. Cold seeped into his bones as he tried to calm his breathing, his hands ached from clenching them so tightly.
The panic then had been constant, even worse than back at the lab with his Dad hanging suspended in amber. He could not hide here, he could not run he could only curl up into a ball knowing full well that guards were watching him, knowing full well that other prisoners were jeering at him.
Varian had been so constantly dizzy that he barely remembered to sleep, only closing his eyes when the exhaustion took him over.
The moments bled into hours bled into days and still Varian’s body screamed at him. He just wanted it to end, he wanted it all to stop.
“Hey Kid,” A voice said.
Varian jerked up, his heart pounding.
A man was standing in the cell across from Varian, long brown hair tied back in a bun. The man was not sneering at him like the guards did nor was he laughing like the other prisoners. He was just standing there, leaning against the wall as easily as if he was not in prison.
“Do you think you can describe the cell for me?”
Varian didn’t respond. There was no reason to, nobody ever cared about what he had to say anyway so why say something now. But curiosity tugged at him and this was the first time in god knows how long that someone had talked to him without yelling orders.
“Why?” Varian croaked.
His voice was so wrong and Varian tried to remember if he had been screaming this whole time. He didn’t know, all he knew was his body was hurting and he couldn’t breathe and his Dad was dead because of him.
“Just do it.” The man said.
The stranger’s voice was not angry. It was calm, soothing, so casual as if he were only asking Varian the time.
“Cold.” Varian snapped.
“What else?”
Varian twisted away from the man but the thought that someone was behind him, even in a different cell, sent a new wave of panic through him. Varian turned back to the man but tried not to look at him, uncomfortable in the mans gaze.
“There’s stone floors.” Varian said. “And bars.”
Surprise surprise, the cell looked like a cell.
“How many bars?” The man asked.
Perhaps the man was blind. Left to languish in a cell that he could not see. Except from a distance his eyes looked brown and while Varian knew that not all blindness came with milky eyes he was fairly certain that this man was looking right at him.
Varian counted the bars. After the bars the man asked him to count the stone blocks used to make up the floor. Then the stone in the walls. Then the amount of drops of water that leaked from the castle above into the cell.
By the time Varian realised that his chest didn’t hurt anymore, he found that he liked this man. His voice was so gentle, his movements slow enough that Varian could tell what he was going to do before he did it. The man was nothing like the yelling guards nor was he like the other prisoners that threw themselves against the bars, screaming that they were innocent or screaming that they were going to kill everyone.
“What’s you name, Kid?”
He shouldn’t say anything. This was a stranger, a criminal no less. But Varian was now a criminal too, he supposed. Varian had committed treason, surely this man was much less dangerous than Varian himself.
“Varian.”
“Varian.” The man whistled. “Strong name. You know, It means protecter, at least in Sapporian.”
“Sapporian?” Varian asked.
“My people. Corona claims sovereignty over Sapporia but it still exists. In our culture, in our strength. In our names.”
“I’m not Sapporian.” Varian mumbled, picking the thread on his sleeve.
“Where are you from then?”
“Old Corona.” Varian said. “My Dad, he’s the-“
Varian stopped himself, familiar panic shooting through him. His Dad was dead, encased in amber, because of him.
“The name’s Andrew.” The man said, interrupting Varian’s swirling thoughts.
“What does it mean?” Varian asked. “Your name.”
“Manly.”
Varian choked back a laugh.
The stranger was certainly a manly man, with a surprisingly well trimmed beard given his incarceration and big arms that were folded so casually but Varian knew that they strong. His hair was long but tied back in a bun and Varian wondered just how long it was when it was let down. Not as long as Rapunzel’s of course, but definitely longer than Cass’. Andrew was every image of ‘manly’ and yet the meaning still amused Varian, imagining a little toddler running around covered in food being considered worthy of the name ‘manly’.
“I know, I know,” Andrew laughed easily. “My mother wanted to name me for Warrior instead but my father insisted on Manly.”
Andrew kept talking, describing the place he grew up in and just how beautiful Sapporian Land was and occasionally asking Varian questions too. Varian didn’t answer all of them but Andrew did not mind and for the first time in forever Varian felt that maybe things weren’t so bad. His chest was not aching and his voice was getting stronger and he even managed to crack a few jokes without feeling like he had overstepped and was going to be reprimanded.
It felt nice, it felt safe.
Varian would still panic when the guards came too close or when a prisoner got especially rowdy but Andrew would just speak with him and everything would feel better. While Varian had never heard of Sapporia before, he had become outraged at the fact that Corona claimed to own Sapporian Land. It was a different Kingdom, no matter what the Royal Family claimed that Sapporia and Corona had joined as in in a marriage of love, and Andrew had had every right to try to reclaim it.
The Royal Family of Corona was messed up, Varian knew that intimately, so Andrew must be telling the truth. Andrew was just trying to help his people.
Something nagged at Varian though, listening to Andrew’s plight. He was in prison, same as Varian, and while Varian had told Andrew some of what he had done against Rapunzel he had not mentioned all of it so maybe Andrew was holding back details too.
But Andrew was kind. He was patient, he was understanding. He did not see Varian as broken like Quirin did, even when Varian had his panic attacks. Even when Varian had clawed at his own chest, screaming and sobbing that he was broken, Andrew had never once raised his voice.
“It’s okay, my friend,” Andrew said. “You are not broken. You have been hurt, more than anybody deserves, but you are not broken.”
Friend. Andrew was his friend. Qurin was dead and Rapunzel had betrayed him and Andrew was his friend. The aching in his chest eased, his breathing stuttering until that too eased. Friend. Andrew was his friend and Andrew did not think that he was broken. For the first time in his entire life somebody saw him for who he was outside of the panic, outside of the mistakes.
A true friend.
The days became easier. It was still cold and the guards still scared him and the food did not seem able to settle within him but the days had become easier. Varian tried his best to regain his strength, his mind returning as he forced himself to eat and sleep more consistently but the more aware Varian became of that nagging feeling. He didn’t want to question things, not when they seemed to finally be looking up, but something was wrong and Varian couldn’t pinpoint what.
He waited until Andrew was asleep. The man had never seemed to struggle to sleep in the cell and if Varian was being honest it made him a little jealous. After making sure that Andrew was full asleep, Varian then timed the guards movements, waiting until they went to go sweep the perimeter before he sat in the centre of his cell, hands resting on his knees. He probably did not need to be so careful, he had simply wanted to reflect on some of his memories, but the thought of the guards sneaking up on him while he was vulnerable terrified him to the core.
At last alone, as alone as he could be in a prison full of criminals and guards, Varian closed his eyes.
He thought back to that day, that day that everything went wrong.
Varian flinched, hearing Quirin’s shout. He couldn’t do this. Varian was broken and a coward and he couldn’t let himself think back to what happened to his Dad. But he needed to, he needed to remember what had happened past the blurs of tears and fighting. He wanted to understand the rush of the events, he wanted to remember what lead him to meeting his new friend.
He wanted to work out what was nagging him.
Steadying himself, Varian forced himself to remember again. Quirin’s shout. The amber creeping up, trapping his Dad from moving. Varian remembered stumbling through the storm, tears freezing on his face. He remembered finding Rapunzel and begging her for help, holding onto her because she was going to fix everything. But Rapunzel hadn’t fixed everything. She had betrayed him, she had promised to be there for him but she had abandoned him and his Dad and she had ruined everything.
No.
That wasn’t right. Rapunzel had not betrayed him. She had been forced to make an impossible choice, a choice that no one should have to make. Save one life and keep a promise or save a hundred lives and do her duty as future Queen of Corona. She had made the best decision for her people that she could have.
But Quirin was dead because of her. She had caused this, she had caused all of this. Varian’s hands were shaking, nails biting into his skin. Rapunzel betrayed him. She deserved the pain of losing a parent, she deserved to pay. Andrew hated the Royal Family. He would help Varian get revenge, he would help making everything right again.
Except hurting Rapunzel would not bring his Dad back.
Varian had hurt so many people already and it had not stopped the pain in his chest. The guards hated him, all of Corona hated him, because of what he has done. Hurting more people wasn’t going to fix that, it was just going to make everything worse and he was already so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of these attacks, tired of being angry. All Varian had wanted was to make his Dad proud and he had failed and he wished that everyone could just forget what he has done.
Varian wished he could forget too, forget that he was broken. Forget the shattering glass and his Dad’s yell, forget having run from home and climbing that tree, forget the amber creeping up his Dad’s body, forget what it was like for his hands to shake and his heart to race and his chest to hurt. Varian wished he could forget to panic, forget the pain. He just wanted to be normal. He just wanted his Dad to love him but that could never happen because of who Varian was. What Varian was. Varian was broken but maybe if everyone forgot that, if Varian forgot that, then maybe everything was going to be okay.
His mind made up, Varian felt his hands still. His heart slowed, his breathing deepened. Varian knew what he was going to do. He would help Andrew get his revenge because Andrew was his friend and had been endlessly patient and kind towards Varian. But Varian would not hurt anyone else. He will simply work out a way to wipe everyone’s memories, the Kingdom’s and his own. They would not remember the things he has done, the people he has hurt, and he in turn will not remember his Dad’s frozen body nor would he remember what it felt like for his chest to ache like that.
Sapporia can be free with no one remembering that it’s land had been taken by Corona, and Varian could lead a normal life without guilt, without panic, without pain. Everything was going to be okay because Varian wasn’t alone anymore. Andrew would be there for him in a way that Rapunzel had never been able to. Varian could not mourn for a Dad he could not remember, nor could the people hate him for crimes they do not remember him committing.
Varian would wait for Andrew to wake and then they could set to work, together, and everything will be made right once more.