Archive of Our Own ^beta

The day the Fire Lord died, there was rain. It started in the Earth Kingdom, the Avatar summoning water to help heal the destruction wrought by the Fire Lord’s attack, but the wind caught the edges of the storm and blew it across the sea, drizzling half heartedly across the courtyard of the fire palace. 

Eugene didn't notice. He was already wet, clinging to Varian who was dripping in the water that Cass had pulled up out of the grate to freeze him in place with. He had screamed when she melted the ice and he's screaming now, tugging at the chains hard enough to tear the skin around his wrists as he sobs hysterically and spits those impossibly hot blue flames out of his mouth. 

They sputter out in the rain. Eugene doesn't let go, even as the heat burns over his head. 

“Stop it,” Varian sobs, writhing weakly in Eugene’s grasp. “Stop it, stop it, fight me, I don't concede, I'll kill you, you coward, you liar, you traitor–”

Eugene’s whole body is trembling, and his chest burns with the blast he took. His back must be covered in bruises, and he can feel how erratic his heartbeat is, stuttering in his chest. Cass is a powerful waterbender, but she's not a healer. Eugene will just have to suffer through the shock until Rapunzel gets back, clinging to consciousness even as his vision swims and goes grey. 

He doesn't let go. 

“It's okay,” he breathes, holding on as tight as his aching arms will allow. “Varian, it's okay, I'm here, I'm not leaving.”

Varian screams. Another jet of flame leaves his mouth, boiling the raindrops over Eugene’s shoulder before the fire dies out as he goes back to crying and tugging uselessly against the handcuffs. 

“I don't concede,” he chokes out between ragged, gasping breaths. “We're not done.”

“We are,” Eugene says. He's exhausted. His heart was broken well before he threw himself in front of a lightning bolt, but spirits, watching Varian fall apart like this isn't helping. “We're done, V. It's over. The fighting’s over.”

Varian shakes his head mutely before he ducks down to hide his face against Eugene’s chest. Eugene winces as Varian presses his forehead against the fresh burn, but he doesn't pull away. 

“Why didn't you ever come back?” he sobs, and Eugene closes his eyes as he brings one shaking hand up to cup the back of Varian’s head. 

“The same reason you never left,” he says softly, and Varian yanks once more against the chains before he goes limp in Eugene’s arms.

The first thing Eugene does when they arrive at the beach house is go around and open every window and door. Varian follows him and does the same automatically, a silent little mimic ghosting after him from room to room. 

“Spirits, it's musty in here,” Eugene says, coughing into his fist as he pushes some curtains to the side and unleashes a cloud of dust into the air. “When was the last time anyone stayed here?”

“Six years ago,” Varian says. He doesn't offer anything else. He's barely said anything for weeks that wasn't a response to a direct question. 

Six years is more than enough information for Eugene, though: no one's used the family home on Ember Island since he was banished as a thirteen-year-old. He wants to ask Varian what he’s been doing every summer since then if Edmund and Ulla weren't taking him to the beach, but the thought of what kind of answer he might get fills his stomach with dread. 

Varian is a firebending prodigy sharpened into the deadliest weapon in Edmund’s arsenal, a master of strategy and warfare, an admiral in the Fire Nation army at the tender age of fourteen. That kind of accelerated training doesn't allow for summer vacations. 

“Good thing we brought spare sheets,” Eugene says thoughtfully, grinning at Varian over his shoulder as he slides open the window.

Varian nods. He doesn't smile back.

Eugene doesn't remember the early days after he and Quirin left the Fire Nation. The burns covering half his face get infected, and he’s too busy fighting off the haze of fever and illness to track what’s going on around him. It's more than a week before he realizes that he's on a Fire Nation ship, longer still before he realizes his uncle is with him. 

The next realization comes instantly. 

“Where’s Varian?” he croaks. He can't see out of his left eye at all, and his right eye is fuzzy, still weak and aching after the blinding flash of light his father had hurled at his face not even two weeks before. 

He can still read the misery on Quirin’s face. “He's at home,” his uncle says softly. “He's safe.”

Eugene’s lip trembles. “We left him alone? He's by himself?”

“No, no, he's not alone,” Quirin is quick to assure him. “Ulla’s still there. She's going to look after him until Edmund sends word that you can come home.”

“But…” Eugene wracks his brains for the scattered memories since the war meeting and the Agni Kai. “But I'm banished… until I find the Avatar, right? I can't go home until then.”

He jumps when he feels a hand on his head, then groans when the movement makes the entire left side of his face throb. He hadn't seen his uncle move. Quirin hesitates, then begins to slowly comb his fingers through Eugene’s hair. 

“I know my brother too well to believe that,” he says. “He set you an impossible task, but he doesn't expect you to follow it. Your father has a temper, but he doesn't hold a grudge. It won't be more than a few months before he comes to his senses, and we'll go home.”

“A few months,” Eugene says. Quirin nods. 

“That's all,” he says. “I can't imagine he'll hold out past the winter solstice at the latest, and then we can go back to Varian.”

A year later, they still haven't received an invitation to come home. Instead, they hear word that the Fire Lord has finally remarried after nearly a decade of mourning his late wife. A year after that, they start hearing the rumors about his heir.

Varian spent half a year trying very earnestly to kill Eugene and his friends. As much as Eugene loves him, he learned to be afraid of him, too. They had too many close calls for him to think Varian wasn't serious. 

Watching the kind of precision with which Varian could still shoot lightning even while laughing hysterically and staggering across the courtyard of their childhood home towards Eugene, he had had to wonder if Varian was holding back after all all those times they fought. 

It's not a concern these days; the kid hasn't made so much as a spark since their Agni Kai. Eugene gets antsy and frustrated when he goes too long without bending. He can't imagine how someone who burns as hot as Varian is holding back so much. 

“Do you want to bring a book or something?” he asks, when Varian asks if he can go sit on the beach for a while. It's all he's done since they've arrived, when Eugene isn't bullying him into remembering to eat and drink. “You can grab something from the library if you're bored?”

“Okay,” Varian says, with about as much inflection or personality as one of the wind up toys he like to tinker with as a kid. “Which book?”

Eugene blinks at him. Varian waits, expectant.

“Which… ever one you want?” Eugene says hesitantly, and Varian’s eyes narrow the barest fraction. 

“I don't have a preference,” he says. 

“Me neither,” Eugene says with a shrug. “We probably still have the Flynn Rider books somewhere around here. You used to love those, remember?”

Varian’s eyes narrow further, but his expression stays otherwise blank. “Those are kid books.”

“Well, you're a kid,” Eugene points out, and Varian almost frowns before he catches himself. 

“Okay,” he says. “I'll go find them and bring them to the beach with me to read.”

He turns smartly on his heel and marches out of the room to go hunt down the books. Eugene has a feeling he just messed something up, even if he has no idea how or what. 

Varian always had his nose in a book as a little kid, when he wasn't pestering Eugene to play with him. The kid was forever bursting with energy, full of stories to tell and new games to play. Even after everything he's been through, Eugene can't imagine that he's changed so much that he would rather sit in silence and stare at the ocean all day. He'll drive himself insane without something to do. 

That night over dinner, Varian gives him a quick, almost tactical summary of the two Flynn Rider books he was able to find and read that day, then asks what Eugene wants him to read tomorrow. Eugene asks Varian if he enjoyed the books, Varian just blinks in confusion, and Eugene tells him he doesn't have to read anything if he doesn't want to. 

The next day, Varian goes to the beach, just like he's done every day since they got here, and sits and stares blankly as the tide pulls out. Eugene brings him water and lunch and reminds him to move into the shade as the sun moves overhead.

He doesn't know if Varian forgot or if he didn't listen, but he burns all the same.

I heard he could bend lightning before his tenth birthday, can you imagine? Graduated two years early from the most prestigious academy in the nation, and the top of his class to boot. A commanding officer in the royal army by the time he was thirteen, and an admiral at fourteen. The best bender of his generation—of any generation, to hear some people tell it. His father must be so proud of him. 

Oh, the Fire Lord’s son, of course. No, no, not the eldest, didn't you hear he was disowned years ago?

His youngest son, the adopted one. Took him in after his own father abandoned the boy. Raised him up in the palace like his own, gave him all that training, and named him his heir. 

Must be blessed by the spirits, that one. Some people have all the luck, don't they?

“I'm going into town today,” Eugene says. “Do you want to come with me?”

“Okay,” Varian says. “When do we leave?” 

“Probably as soon as we're done eating, if you don't have anything else to do,” Eugene says. He knows Varian doesn't. “It's the off season, so we won't have to worry about many tourists, but I'd still rather go when it's not too busy. I'm not a fan of crowds.”

Varian glances up at him, expression blank but one eyebrow just barely quirked up. Eugene is pretty sure that Varian knows he means he wants to keep Varian away from crowds, but Varian doesn't call him on it, just nods and goes back to his breakfast. 

“I just want to pick up some more food,” Eugene says, even though Varian didn't ask, because the kid’s lack of curiosity is eery. “We're not running low or anything, but I wanted to see if I can find some different ingredients. The girls taught me a lot of different recipes while we were together. Have you had a lot of Earth Kingdom food?”

“Yes,” Varian says. “I was undercover in Ba Sing Se for nearly three weeks.”

Eugene winces at the reminder. Varian continues chewing placidly. “What about Swamp Tribe cooking?” Eugene asks. “Rapunzel makes a killer stew. I bet I could make something similar.”

“I've never had any,” Varian says. “Do you want help making it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Eugene says, grinning. “We can probably figure it out, between the two of us. Do you like cooking?”

For a second, he's nearly overcome by a wave of relief at the thought of Varian liking anything. He's been so tired and listless in the weeks since the comet, only doing things when he's given direct orders or physically needs to, and otherwise just sitting still and quiet like he's waiting for the next command. 

When he was little, before his bending developed, Varian used to like playing with his little chemistry sets, mixing compounds and excitedly telling anyone who would listen about chemical reactions. Cooking is pretty similar to that, Eugene thinks. Maybe this is his Varian finally peeking out from behind his armor, daring to show his face again after six years of fighting. 

And then Varian shrugs. “I need to eat, don't I?” he asks, and Eugene quickly bends his head over his plate so Varian won't see the tears in his eyes.

Meeting the Avatar after six years of banishment was… unexpected, to say the least. Eugene gave up on the hunt when he was sixteen. It had been an ugly few months, realizing that Quirin was wrong and Edmund would never let him come home. He had a new wife now, and a new son. He didn't need Eugene.

He and Quirin tried, as much as possible, not to acknowledge who that wife and son were, who they had to be. News from the palace was scarce, and no one ever said their names, only titles. The Fire Lady could be anyone. The Crown Prince could be anyone. 

It wasn't like anyone was answering Eugene’s letters to tell him. He gave up after a few years. Quirin didn't, but he didn't talk about it to Eugene, which meant he wasn't getting responses either, even though the Fire Nation had to be tracking the movement of their ship. 

He came to terms with his father not wanting him. After the grief came anger. 

How dare he. How dare he. Eugene was thirteen, and all he wanted was to protect his people, soldiers fighting in the name of the nation Eugene was supposed to lead one day, and Edmund was going to use them as cannon fodder. Edmund destroyed Eugene’s face, blinded him in one eye, and banished him for the rest of his life because Eugene dared to question his choice to sacrifice living, breathing people. 

He receives a stipend, still. He uses it to visit every tourist destination across the globe, go to parties in every port that Quirin has to drag him back to the ship from when he's too drunk to walk, and treat the crew to luxurious parties and feasts. 

They’re trapped on this stupid ship too, all of them. Eugene isn't going to put an ounce of effort into wasting time and resources on his wild goosechicken chase, so the last three years of his banishment become more of an extended cruise than anything else. 

And then they hear the rumors. The Avatar is alive. The Avatar is in the Earth Kingdom, seeking out an earthbending teacher. The Avatar is a young woman from the swamps deep within the Earth Kingdom, the last place the Fire Nation was looking for a waterbender, but she's moving now, and that can only mean one thing. 

For a moment he never quite forgives himself for, Eugene almost considers actually hunting her. Then he looks at Quirin and thinks of all that they've already lost and the family they've been locked away from, and remembers that it's never a good idea to trust the Fire Lord’s promises. 

“Set a course for the Earth Kingdom,” he says. “I think we need to have a word with the Avatar.”

“Do you remember the Ember Island Players?” Eugene asks, and Varian blinks up at him, looking startled. 

“Sorry, what?”

Eugene carefully presses more wet sand to the side of the sandcastle they're building. Well, that he's building. Varian is mostly just watching and occasionally handing Eugene shells or bits of driftwood to decorate it with. 

“The Ember Island Players,” Eugene repeats. “The actors troupe. We used to go see them every summer.”

“Oh,” Varian says. “Yes.”

Nothing else. Direct questions only. Eugene grits his teeth and fights to keep his voice pleasant when he wants to scream at Varian to just do something, just move, just be Varian again. 

“They're not putting on shows right now,” he says, “but they have open rehearsals sometimes. I saw a flier about it in town. We can go watch if you want.”

“Why?” Varian asks. 

“Mostly to make fun of them,” Eugene admits. “None of them can act. I have to imagine they're even worse at practice. It could be funny.”

“Okay,” Varian says. “If you want to.”

“Do you want to?” Eugene asks, and Varian frowns. 

“What do you mean?”

“Spirits, Varian, do you want anything?” Eugene asks, voice strained, because they've been here for nearly two weeks now, and getting Varian out of the palace and away from the chaos of rebuilding was his only idea but it's not working. It's like Varian used all his energy on his fit after the Agni Kai; he screamed and cried and bent until he was just a silent, shaking mess on top of Eugene. He eventually fell asleep, and when he woke up, he had taken the news about Edmund’s death, Ulla’s imprisonment, and his own discharge from the Fire Nation army without blinking. The closest he'd come to showing any hint of emotion was when Eugene told him that Quirin had been crowned as Fire Lord, and Varian’s lip had curled in the hint of a sneer before he forced his face back into something impassive and unreadable. 

He hadn't reacted to much of anything for a few weeks. He had only nodded when Eugene told him he probably shouldn't leave the palace, at least on his own. He'd stayed in his room unless they called for him somewhere. He'd avoided Quirin as much as he could without outright leaving the room every time his dad entered. 

He didn't avoid Eugene. Eugene knew Quirin saw the difference in how Varian treated him, and he knew how badly it was hurting him on top of the mess of taking over the Fire Nation after six years away, but he hadn't known how to fix it. 

He still doesn't. He doesn't know how to fix anything, because he just wanted to get Varian away from the memories at the palace and the barracks, hide him away somewhere safe and quiet, but Varian’s not getting better and Eugene’s exhausted from trying to make him. 

“What am I supposed to want?” Varian asks, and Eugene stares at him blankly before he pushes himself up without a word and storms back towards the beach house. He's too scared of what he might say if he stays.

The Avatar is too trusting. Eugene’s offer of help and training was sincere, but spirits, he really thought he'd have to work a little bit to convince her. 

Her sister is less trusting. She makes a point of sharpening her sword in front of Eugene every chance she gets. 

“What's the Fire Nation like?” Rapunzel asks. “I'd never even left the swamp until a few months ago.”

They're sitting around a small fire that Eugene lit for them, halfway to Omashu in search of an earthbending teacher for Rapunzel. He's been with them for two days, and he's trying not to show how relieved he is to be sitting down and making camp. He's spent most of the last six years on a ship, and it's taking some time to get used to solid ground under his feet. He's sprawled on the ground, leaned up against the overturned log that Rapunzel is sitting on. She rests her chin in both hands and smiles down at him, and Eugene smiles back. 

Across the fire, Cassandra rolls her eyes. 

Eugene hums thoughtfully. “Hot,” he says. “The beaches are beautiful. The food is amazing.”

“Do you go back to visit a lot?” Rapunzel asks, and Eugene looks away. 

“Uh, no,” he says. “I haven't been back since I was a kid.”

The steady sound of Cassandra dragging a whetstone down the length of her sword doesn't pause as she asks, “And why is that?”

“Been looking for the Avatar here,” Eugene says easily. “Too busy to visit.”

“Well, you found her,” Cassandra says. “Now what? What was your plan?”

“Originally, I was supposed to capture her,” Eugene says. He's already told them that. It's not a surprise, but Cassandra still glares. “But I'm a well-known failure and a disloyal son, so I'm not doing that. I'll teach Rapunzel firebending and help find teachers for the other elements, then see what we can do about stopping the Fire Lord.”

Cassandra scrapes the stone down the blade again. “Why? So you can take the throne?” 

Eugene snorts. “Spirits, no. If anyone does, it should be my uncle. I haven't been home since I was thirteen; I don't know anywhere near enough to be the Fire Lord, and I wouldn't want to, anyways.”

“Then why?” Cassandra asks, finally setting her sword down so she can stare at Eugene, gaze piercing. “You expect us to believe you're going to turn your back on your family and your people for no reason?”

“Not for no reason,” Eugene says, shaking his head. “They turned their backs on me first. And I–” The campfire flares up for a moment as his breath catches. “I left someone behind when I was banished. He's never answered any of my letters, but we hear rumors sometimes, and I think…” He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. The flames steady. “I think he might be getting hurt.”

“I'm sorry,” Rapunzel says softly. “A friend of yours?”

“My cousin,” Eugene says, staring into the depths of the fire and willing the heat to dry out the tears in his eyes. “But he's more like my little brother.”

“I finished the sandcastle,” Varian says, and Eugene jumps. He hadn't even heard Varian come in, too distracted by trying to write down what he remembers of Rapunzel’s one-pot swamp stew recipe. 

“Wait, really?” he asks. Varian, hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, nods. His feet are bare and a little damp where he must have washed the sand off before he came inside. His hair is windswept and messy, out of the tight topknot he wore it in for so long. His cheeks and shoulders are still pink and peeling, but the worst of the burn from last week has started to heal, fading into tan, freckled skin. 

Eugene had forgotten how many freckles the kid always got when he stayed out in the sun for too long. 

“Mhm,” Varian says. “I didn't, um. You didn't have blueprints or anything, but I tried to follow the design you had started.”

“Oh,” Eugene says. “That's… okay. Thanks?”

Varian nods again, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment before he asks hesitantly, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to remember Rapunzel’s recipe,” Eugene says. “She always made it look like she was just throwing in random ingredients and forgetting about it, but it came out perfect every time. I figure it has to have more to do with the spices than anything else, right? Because we always used whatever meat or vegetables we could find.”

“Maybe the… temperature, too?” Varian asks hesitantly. “Or how long she cooked it?”

“Oh, that's true,” Eugene says, blinking down at the list. “I was just going to boil everything together and hope for the best.”

“A low heat might be better,” Varian says. “For a long time. So everything will cook together slowly.”

“You're probably right,” Eugene says, frowning thoughtfully at the list. “It always took her a while to make it. She'd throw a pot together as soon as we made camp, and we'd all just have to smell it cooking for hours before she'd let us touch it.”

When he looks back up, it's to see Varian nervously scuffing one foot against the floor. When he sees Eugene looking, he falls immediately into parade rest. It's disconcerting, to say the least, to see him in his soft shorts and sleeveless shirt, hair falling in his face, but with ramrod straight posture and feet perfectly shoulder width apart, hands tucked neatly behind his back. 

“Do you still want help making it?” he asks, tone even and polite, but Eugene doesn't think he's imagining the hint of shyness in his voice. 

“Yeah,” he says, trying not to let his smile look too obviously relieved. “We should probably start soon, if it needs to cook for a while.”

“Okay,” Varian says, walking further into the kitchen. The first few steps he takes are quick and even, crossing halfway across the room in a few strides, then he pauses for the barest second with one foot frozen in midair. When he sets it down, he strolls across the room towards Eugene, comfortable and unhurried. 

His expression is nervous as he flicks his eyes towards Eugene. Eugene smiles back as encouragingly as he can, trying not to be sick, and Varian relaxes. 

“What do you need me to do first?” he asks. 

I need you to stop asking what I need, Eugene thinks, but he says, “Can you start cutting the carrots?”

Kiera and Catalina are forces of nature, quite literally, and they make a game of trying to get people to guess which of them is the earthbender and which is the airbender. Eugene guesses wrong, and a stiff breeze could have knocked him over the first time he saw shy, soft-spoken Catalina launch a boulder into the sky. Kiera, arguably the most aggressive airbender who ever lived, was happy to provide the stiff breeze, sending Eugene tumbling across the grass while he was still staring open-mouthed at Catalina. 

Lance is fun, though. He's a nonbender like Cass, but he's clever and resourceful. He's had to be, looking out for his adopted sisters on the streets of Omashu. Someone had to keep them alive, he tells Eugene once, and Lance couldn't trust anyone else to take care of them. Eugene only nods, understanding that more than he's willing to admit. 

Funnily enough, it's only a few days outside of Omashu, Lance and the girls in tow, that they come across the exact reason he understands. 

Someone's been hunting them; they already know that. Despite their best efforts, word of Rapunzel's growing powers spreads faster than they can keep up with, and Quirin was only going to be able to hide Eugene’s disappearance for so long. It was inevitable that the Fire Nation would hear about the Avatar's return eventually, and there’s no way Edmund wouldn't be able to figure out who the firebender in the party with the… distinctive burn scar is. Eugene’s been expecting someone to come after them. 

He wasn't expecting this. 

Shorter than Rapunzel, small enough that his armor had to have been custom made for him, medals and epaulets announcing his rank. Hair pulled back in a neat, brutally tight knot on top of his head. Eyes as cold as ice and cheeks that dimple when he smiles at Eugene for the first time in six years. 

“Hi, Eugene,” he says. “How have you been?”

Eugene gapes at him. “Varian?”

“Admiral Varian,” his cousin corrects. “Or prince, if you prefer, though I guess since you've renounced our nation, I'm not actually your prince anymore.”

“What happened to you?” Eugene asks. This doesn't– this doesn't make sense. He knew things were bad, he's heard rumors about what things have been like since he left, but he thought… he doesn't… an admiral? Varian's fourteen. 

Varian's smile doesn't fade. 

“I grew up,” he says simply, then he launches a fireball the size of a Komodo rhino directly at Eugene. 

The fight is brutal. The six of them barely escape Varian and his soldiers, and as soon as they've made camp, while Rapunzel is tending to everyone’s wounds, Cassandra turns to Eugene, stalking across the campsite to jab a finger against his chest. 

“What was that?” she demands, furious. “Who was that, and why did you know him?”

“That's Varian,” Eugene says numbly. Varian’s fire is blue. How does Varian possibly have enough power to make flames that hot? He's young, he's tiny. He's going to burn himself out. Who allowed him to push himself so hard? Who allowed him to join the army? Edmund doesn't hand out empty titles. Varian must have earned his rank, but what could a kid his age have possibly done to earn it?

“Yeah, I got that,” Cassandra snaps. She's right in his face now. Eugene just looks down at her blankly. There's soot on her cheek and a scratch on her forehead where she hit the ground leaping out of the way of a blast of lightning. 

Varian can bend lightning. 

“Who’s Varian?” Cass asks. “Why does he know you, and what does he want with us? He called himself the prince. I thought that was you.”

“He's my cousin,” Eugene says. 

Rapunzel makes a soft noise, and Eugene drags his eyes away from Cass to look over at her. She's got both hands coated in glowing blue water, hovering them over a burn on the back of Lance's shoulder. Kiera and Catalina are sitting on either side of him, each holding one of his hands. 

“The one you left behind,” Rapunzel says quietly. “The one you thought was getting hurt.”

Eugene swallows. “Yes.”

“Well he looks fine to me,” Cass spits, spinning on her heel and storming away a few feet before whipping around to face Eugene again. “He just nearly killed us.”

“No, he– no, you don't understand,” Eugene stammers. “He was just a little kid. He was only eight, he didn't– he's fourteen. He's just fourteen, we have to help him.”

“Help him?” Cass asks incredulously. “Help him by what, turning ourselves in? Letting him put Raps in a cage for the rest of her life and murder the rest of us?”

“He's just a kid,” Eugene says. Panic is rising in his chest, clawing its way up his throat until he's choking on it. “He's just a little kid, he didn't– someone's making him, they have to be making him, I have to help him–”

“He tried,” Cass repeats loudly, “to kill us.”

“But he didn't,” Eugene says. His breath is stuttering and catching in his lungs, and he feels as shaky as he did his first days after sneaking off the ship, when he hadn't been able to find his land legs again. “He failed, the Fire Lord doesn't– he doesn't exactly react well to failure, spirits, Varian’s just a kid, my father’s gonna kill him–”

“Eugene.”

He jerks in surprise when Rapunzel suddenly appears in front of him; he doesn't know if she came up on his blind side or if he's just so distracted by his own terror that he missed her approaching. She reaches her hands up slowly, making sure he sees her do it, and cups his face gently in her hands. 

Eugene whines softly, a terrified, animal noise as words completely fail him. 

“We'll try to help him,” Rapunzel says. “I promise, we will. But–” She bites her lip and looks over to where Kiera is helping wrap Lance’s shoulder. Rapunzel’s healing can only do so much, and Eugene catches a glimpse of raw, blistered skin before it's covered in bandages. “He’s dangerous,” Rapunzel admits. “We have to stay safe, too. I can't lose any of you.”

Her voice breaks. 

“And I can't lose Varian,” Eugene whispers. 

Rapunzel swallows hard enough that he can hear it, and she doesn't have to say anything for Eugene to know what she's thinking. 

He might have already lost him.

Varian’s back on the beach. He didn't bring a book, because Eugene didn't tell him to and he barely does anything on his own these days. Eugene thought that maybe Varian was starting to come back. He helped with dinner, he built the sandcastle, he went into town with Eugene and made a few lighthearted, disparaging comments about the rehearsal they watched for the Ember Island Players. Eugene probably should have known better than to get his hopes up. 

As soon as Eugene stopped suggesting activities, Varian stopped doing them. He's back on the beach, staring blankly at the waves. 

Eugene doesn't get it. He's trying as hard as he can, but it doesn't make sense. He went a little wild when he left the Fire Nation. As soon as he realized he had his freedom, as soon as he realized it was something he wanted to have, he'd taken advantage of it in every possible way he could. 

Varian is technically under house arrest, but it's their family's beach house and Eugene is his only guard. He has to realize this is the freest he's been since he was eight. He could do anything. Eugene doesn't understand why he's not doing anything. 

He says as much in a letter to Quirin, and he knows his frustration comes through even as he tries to sound positive. Varian is Quirin’s son, even if the kid doesn't seem to want to be anymore. Eugene wants to give his uncle some good news. There's just… not much to give. 

From Quirin’s letter, it seems like things are going much the same in the palace. Quirin wasn't technically banished when Eugene was, but everyone knows he left with the disgraced former prince. It seems some of the people in the Fire Nation, particularly high-ranking nobles, advisors, and generals that had agreed with Edmund’s crusade, aren't happy to have Quirin back at all, let alone as Fire Lord. His letter says it hasn't been a smooth transition. 

He asks how Varian is doing. Eugene tells him it hasn't been smooth. 

Varian drifts through the room as Eugene is finishing up the letter. “What are you writing?” he asks. 

“Letter to Uncle Quirin,” Eugene says. “Do you want me to add anything from you?”

Varian hesitates for half a moment, expression conflicted, before he says, “I have nothing to report,” and leaves the room. 

Eugene writes that Varian says hi, then he feels guilty for lying and carefully tears off the bottom of the page where he wrote it.

They're fighting. Eugene’s tried to talk to Varian directly, he's tried sending him messages, he's tried everything he can to make the kid just have a conversation with him, but Varian is single minded in his determination to kill the team and capture Rapunzel. 

Eugene rolls out of the way of a fireball and shoots off a blast of his own. He, Lance, and Cass are doing their best to provide cover for Rapunzel and the girls; Eugene had heard a scream from Kiera and nothing at all from Catalina, and then Rapunzel had thrown up a shaky stone wall and ducked behind it with both girls, already pulling water from the flask at her hip to coat her hands. 

Lance had run his sword through the bender who attacked his sister. He and Cass are tag teaming the small group of fighters that Varian brought with him, an eclectic mix of benders and non benders from across the four nations. When Rapunzel and the team had continued to evade and outsmart Varian, he had dismissed his formally-trained Fire Nation soldiers and instead stepped outside of the rigid army structure to get what he needed. The mercenaries he hired instead aren't overly concerned with honor or duty. Andrew and the Saporians are ruthless and not afraid to fight dirty. 

Eugene doesn't care about them. Cass and Lance are holding them at bay, and Eugene is playing bait for Varian. 

“Can we just talk?” he demands, shooting a burst of flame at Varian’s feet. Varian jumps nimbly to the side and responds with a whip-thin line of fire that Eugene barely avoids. 

“I'd rather not waste my time,” Varian says, even though he's once again let himself get distracted by fighting Eugene instead of going after Rapunzel. The kid may have a mission, but he has a grudge, too, whether he realizes it or not. “You abandoned your duty and your people. That's not something we can let go unpunished forever.”

Eugene grits his teeth. There's no sound from behind the wall at his back where Rapunzel is desperately trying to heal whatever happened to Catalina. 

“I'm not going back,” he says. “I'm sorry, kid, but I can't.”

Varian snorts out a laugh even as he ducks and spins, kicking out one leg and a wave of blue fire with it. “No one wants you to come back, Eugene,” he calls, as Eugene barely dodges in time to save himself from losing another eye. “Didn't you hear? The Fire Lord has a new son. We don't need you anymore. I'm just here to clean up Father’s mess.”

He doesn't mean Quirin. That, more than anything, is what pushes Eugene over the edge. Catalina’s twelve and just nearly died; Rapunzel’s seventeen and being hunted for sport across the kingdoms. Lance and Cass are each fighting two soldiers trying to give Rapunzel space and time to work, and Eugene just heard Varian call the man who melted half Eugene’s face his father. 

“I don't need the Fire Lord,” he spits, letting his anger gather in a wreath of flames around his hands. “I have Quirin. Remember him?”

He expects Varian to dodge. Varian always dodges. Varian's impossible to hit, he always dodges. 

But Eugene mentions Quirin, Varian’s face goes slack with painful shock, and the fireball Eugene just threw at him hits him in the chest and knocks him off his feet.

He and Eugene shout at the same time, Varian in pain and Eugene in horror, but Varian is already staggering back upright, clutching at his smoking uniform. Eugene sees bare, red skin showing between his fingers. The armor might have protected him from the worst of the blast, but Eugene still burnt clear through the fabric underneath. 

“Varian,” he says, taking a step forward instinctively, but Varian’s expression when he looks up makes him freeze in place. His face is stark white and twisted in a snarl, nearly blind with fury; that half moment of vulnerability is gone. 

“Andrew!” he calls out, and his tone is steady but he voice still trembles along the edges, clearly struggling to control himself when he's in pain. 

Eugene knows how bad a fresh burn hurts. 

“Varian,” he says again, softer. Varian doesn't spare him a glance. 

“Fall back,” he shouts. “We can kill them later.”

Andrew doesn't hesitate. In an instant, he and the other Saporians are disengaging with Cass and Lance and turning to run. Cass, ever the opportunist, gets in a parting blow across the back of his arm. He cries out as her sword tears through fabric and skin and whips around to catch it with his own weapon before it can cut any deeper. For a moment, he braces himself like he's going to swing again. 

“Andrew!” Varian snaps again, and Andrew scowls before slipping neatly out of Cass’s reach. 

“Yes, Admiral,” he says, turning on his heel and running back towards Varian. Without another word, he ducks to sling one of Varian’s arms over his shoulders, and they and the rest of the Saporians take off towards their airship. Even limping so badly he can't put weight on his left leg at all, Varian still manages to keep up with them.

Eugene stares at them as they run, too numb to give chase. His hands feel cold. He burned Varian. He burned Varian badly. He's normally so careful when they fight, so determined to distract and hold back and not actually give it his all, just keep Varian occupied. 

The one time he lets that control slip, Varian freezes like a fox antelope. 

Because Eugene mentioned Quirin, though. As horrified as he is, as much as his stomach is twisting at the thought of having hurt Varian, there's a part of him that can only feel relief. Somewhere under that armor is the kid Eugene remembers. If a part of Varian still cares enough about Quirin to be hurt by his absence, then there's some hope for him. 

“Catalina,” Lance gasps as soon as it's clear Varian and the Saporians are leaving, and Eugene is shaken out of his thoughts about one hurt kid to focus on another.

Eugene is going to explode. He can feel the frustration and guilt and exhaustion simmering just under his skin, pressure growing until he's ready to burst with it. The best he can hope for is a small blast radius and something close to a controlled burn.

Varian deserves better than to be burned again. Eugene doesn't know how to avoid it other than to leave him alone, but Varian deserves better than to be alone again, too. 

He deserves better than anything he's gotten. He deserves better than Eugene, for sure, but at least for the moment, Eugene is the best he has. 

“What do you want to do today?” Eugene asks dully as he's picking at his breakfast. 

“I'm good with anything,” Varian says. There's a part of Eugene that thinks it's almost funny, how Varian is trying to get around answering by saying things more casually. A few weeks ago he would have said he had no preference or that he would comply with Eugene’s decision. He's learned how to couch his lack of interest in less formal phrasing, at least. 

“Pick something,” Eugene says. He knows there's an edge in his voice and he knows Varian has to pick up on it, but he can't help it. He doesn't know how to smooth it out, how to be the soft landing Varian needs right now. Eugene has spent weeks now trying to be soft and kind and welcoming for Varian. He can't keep it up much longer. 

Varian’s tongue darts out across his lower lip, a nervous habit Eugene remembers from their childhood that Varian apparently never broke. “I could… read something?” he asks. “I could get a book?”

“Do you want to?” Eugene challenges. Varian darts a glance around the room, eyes wide and nervous. He can clearly feel how close Eugene is to snapping, and he's equally clearly at just as much of a loss on how to keep it from happening. Eugene tries to focus on his breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth, and tries to force his temperature to lower. He can feel fire licking at his rib cage. 

“Do you want me to?” Varian asks hesitantly, and the fire becomes an inferno. 

“It's not about what I want!” Eugene shouts, slamming his hand on the table, and Varian freezes. “What do you want? We're here for you, this is supposed to be for you, and you won't do anything! We finally got you away from the palace, away from Ulla and Edmund, away from the fighting. You're free, don't you get that? You have everything you need, you don't have to worry about that, it's just supposed to be what you want finally. Why won't you just–”

He cuts himself off when he smells burning wood. He looks down to see thin lines of smoke curling up from under his palm where it's still resting on the table; when he lifts it, he realizes he's charred a handprint into antique wood that's decades older than him. 

When he looks up, he sees Varian’s eyes are also trained on his hand. He's gone pale under his tan and scrambled out of his seat, gaze fixed unblinkingly on the table. Eugene jerks his hand back, shaking it out to clear away the heat and the smoke. 

“Sorry,” he says, voice gone suddenly hoarse. Varian nods. He's back in parade rest. 

“I– can I–” His voice fails, and he clears his throat. When he tries again, his tone is a pale imitation of the commanding snap he used on the Fire Nation troops and the Saporian mercenaries. For the first time, he sounds like what he is: a kid playing soldier. “May I be excused from this?”

His voice cracks. Eugene nearly gags. 

“Yeah,” he says. Varian turns before he's even got the word out. He hovers in the doorway for a moment, twisting back and forth like he's not sure which way to go, then presses his fist and palm together in front of him and offers Eugene a quick, clumsy bow before darting out of the room. Barely a few seconds later, Eugene hears the front door open and close. Varian must have taken off at a dead sprint as soon as he turned the corner to make it there so quickly. 

Eugene drops back into his chair, presses his hands over his face, and muffles a frustrated scream into his palms.

“We need to stop him,” Cass says. 

“I agree,” Eugene says, and Cass scowls. 

“No, you don't. You think we need to save him. I think he'd kill us all in a heartbeat if we gave him the chance, so we need to stop giving him so many chances.”

“He's a kid!”

“Catalina’s a kid!” Cass snaps. “Kiera’s a kid! Varian is a commanding officer in the army that’s been chasing us for months, a prince of the nation who wants my sister dead, the son of a spirits-damned monster–”

“He's not Edmund’s son,” Eugene interrupts, baring his teeth in a snarl. “My father basically kidnapped him and called it adoption. Getting press-ganged into the army wasn't Varian's fault.”

Cass laughs in his face. “Do you know something, Eugene?” she asks, shaking her head with a disbelieving smile. “I don't care whose fault it is.”

“Cass,” Rapunzel says disapprovingly, and Cass glares at her where she's sitting with Lance and the girls, watching Eugene and Cass rehash the same argument for the dozenth time. 

They get louder each time. 

“No, Raps,” Cass snaps. “I'm not going to keep putting up with this. I won't let him keep making excuses for the kid. If someone is attacking you and the people you care about, you don't stop to ask yourself why! You fight back! You protect your people before you lose anyone else!”

Her voice cracks. The fire to the side flares up in time with the anger burning in Eugene’s chest. 

“Before you lose anyone?” he demands. “What have you lost, Cassandra? I lost my home, my entire nation, half of my face. Quirin and Varian are all I have. I can't ever go home again. Do you understand that? I'm not giving up on the only family I have left.”

“What have I lost?” Cass repeats incredulously. “My home, you idiotic piece of– your family is the reason I don't have one! I am so sorry you're not allowed to go home anymore. You know, I wish I were that lucky. My home doesn't even exist. Your nation murdered my entire tribe.”

Eugene scoffs. “What are you talking about? The Fire Nation doesn't even know the Swamp Tribe exi–”

In an instant, Cass has unsheathed her sword and whipped it up so that the point hovers barely an inch away from Eugene’s throat. He freezes in place, not because he's scared—Cass has a temper to rival any firebender Eugene’s ever met, but he knows her too well to think she'd actually hurt him—but because the blade is suddenly coated in ice, edges jagged and razor thin, sharper than the metal could ever get. 

“Cass,” Rapunzel repeats. She's on her feet now, one hand outstretched towards them. Eugene can’t make out her expression; he can only see her in the corner of his vision, too stunned to pull his eyes away from Cass’s face. Her expression is twisted in rage, but her eyes are full of tears. 

“You're a waterbender,” Eugene realizes, voice sounding unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet that fell when Cass pulled a weapon on him. “But you said–”

“I'm not from the Earth Kingdom,” Cass spits. “I'm from the South Pole.”

Eugene swallows. He feels like his entire body has turned to stone, cold and immobile as he processes what that means. A century’s worth of yearly raids on the South Pole by Fire Nation soldiers, capturing or slaughtering every waterbender they found, choking off supplies and hunting grounds, doing everything they could to destroy the Southern Water Tribe to make sure the Avatar could never be born there. 

No wonder Cass hates them so much. 

“I'm sorry,” he says hoarsely. “I didn't know.”

Cass’s mouth trembles, and she only holds the pose for another second before her expression breaks and she steps back, dropping the sword down to her side. With a flick of her fingers, the ice melts into a stream of water that she directs into the canteen hanging from her hip, and she researches her sword. 

“You don't know anything,” she says, voice breaking, and dashes the back of her hand across her eyes before stalking off into the trees.

Eugene left his shoes by the house. The sand is still warm even as it gets towards evening, and it sticks to his feet as he crosses the beach. He can hear catgulls cawing overhead. The sun is just barely touching the horizon.

Varian’s been sitting in the same spot for hours, knees drawn up to his chest, staring out at the water. Eugene stops a few dozen feet behind him and watches Varian watch the sea, feeling a pang in his chest as he realizes the kid is probably sunburnt again, since Eugene was too busy sulking to remember to get him some shade. 

Sand and tiny seashells crunch softly under his feet as he finally walks forward and sits down next to Varian. Varian, who probably heard him coming and knew Eugene was standing there, doesn't so much as twitch. 

“I'm sorry,” Eugene says, and Varian finally tilts his head so he can look at him out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't say anything. Eugene swallows back something that could be nausea or a sob, but he forces himself to continue, “I keep pushing, and that's not… I don't think that's what you need. I don't know what you need.”

“I don't need anything,” Varian says. His voice is hollow. “I have everything I could need, remember? I'm free now.”

Eugene blows out a breath and looks out at the water so he won't have to look at Varian, curled up with his chin resting on his arms. “I shouldn't have said that,” he admits. “That was– I was kind of happy, when I realized I didn't have to be a prince anymore. It felt like a relief. I shouldn't have just assumed you would feel the same way. I got mad at you for just following orders, but I still wanted you to follow my orders even if I didn't realize it, and I just… I don't know. That wasn't fair of me. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Varian shifts slightly next to him. Eugene keeps looking at the horizon as he says softly, “I'm not gonna tell you what you want, Varian. That part is really up to you, I swear. And if all you want is to sit on the beach and look at the ocean all day, then I'll just sit with you, okay?”

Varian doesn't answer right away. When he does, his voice is barely above a whisper. 

“Okay,” he breathes. 

Eugene stretches his legs out in front of him and leans back on his hands. Varian stays perfectly  still next to him, hunched over in a tiny ball. Eugene stares out at the water, at the sunlight bleeding into brilliant reds and purples before it disappears, and lets his mind go quiet. Oddly, he can actually understand why Varian likes it out here so much. The sound of the waves and the slowly changing sky are meditative, in their own way. Peaceful. 

Next to him, Varian chokes back a sob. 

Eugene starts and looks down to see that Varian has gone from resting his chin on his knees to hiding his face in his arms, curled up and shaking as he cries.

“Hey,” Eugene says. “Hey, Varian, it's– it's okay, what's–”

“I don't know,” Varian chokes out. “I don't know, you keep asking but I don't know.”

Eugene’s heart lurches in his chest. “Kid,” he says softly, and Varian shakes his head without lifting it. 

“I don't know,” he mumbles again. His shoulders hitch unevenly. “I don't even know how to figure it out, I don't– I don't know.”

Eugene bites his lip. Everything in him wants to hug the kid, but he doesn't know if he's allowed. Varian might not know what he wants, but Eugene doesn't want to overstep and do something he definitely doesn't. 

In lieu of wrapping his arm around him, he leans over just a little until their arms are touching. Varian goes stiff, then sags against Eugene, leaning most of his weight on him. 

“I don't know,” he says again. Eugene sighs. 

“That's okay,” he says softly. “It's okay if you don't know right now. We'll figure it out.”

“Mother always just told me what to want,” Varian says, voice cracking. “Or my commanding officers, or my fa– uncle– the Fire Lord.” He finally lifts his head. The sun has set, but the faint light of the moon is enough for Eugene to make out the tears streaking down his face and his wretched expression. “I'm a good prince, and I'm a good soldier. But I don't know how to be anything else. I don't know what else to be.”

“You don't have to be anything else,” Eugene promises. “I'm sorry I've been acting like you do. You don't have to be anyone but you, okay? Just Varian.”

“I haven't been just Varian since I was eight,” Varian says, with a laugh that sounds like it was ripped out of him. “I don't even remember who that kid is.”

“I can help you figure it out,” Eugene says. “Who you used to be, who you want to be now. And if it takes a while, that’s okay. Took me three years after getting banished to realize it was for the best. We’ve got nothing but time.”

Varian sniffles again and ducks his head back down, but he nods. He doesn't press any closer, but he doesn't pull away. Eugene, for the first time since he saw Varian in his crisp officer’s uniform, doesn't push him for anything. He just waits. 

When the kid starts laughing to himself, he thinks maybe waiting was the wrong choice. “Uh, you okay?”

“Do you remember–” Varian giggles, and wipes away the half-dried tears on his cheeks. “Do you remember that time when– I was probably only five or six, and I found a bunch of tiny turtle crabs and you helped me bring them all inside? Because I thought they would drown when it started raining later?"

Eugene starts laughing too. He'd forgotten about that. “Yeah, and then they all ran outside at once later? Turtle crab stampede?"

Varian laughs again, a weak, wet little huff like he's not sure how to do it. “I didn't know they could breathe underwater. They looked so funny, all those little…” He sits up enough to wave his hands over his head, fingers wiggling as he mimes the turtle crabs’ snapping claws, and Eugene laughs even harder. Varian grins at him, unsure but sincere, and leans back against his side. “That was a long time ago, huh?”

Eugene's smile fades. He doesn't think Varian’s just talking about the games they played as kids, trying to save turtle crabs from the ocean. 

“Longer than I wanted it to be,” he says softly.

Varian makes a soft humming noise and begins slowly dragging his finger through the sand, sketching out a silly, childish drawing of a turtle crab. “Did…” He trails off, then tries again, voice achingly small and scared, “Did you miss me? While you were gone?”

He's trying so hard to sound casual, like he couldn't care one way or the other how Eugene answers. Eugene nudges Varian’s shoulder with his own and for him to look up from his drawing before he says, pouring every ounce of sincerity he has into his words, “More than anything in the world.”

Varian's lower lip trembles, and he nods a few times before carefully resting his head on Eugene’s shoulder. “I really missed you too,” he says, voice hushed like he's confessing to a crime, and Eugene wonders if he's ever been allowed to say that before.

Eugene takes first watch that night. He doesn't wake Lance up when his shift ends; he can sleep in the back of Max's saddle tomorrow. His mind is curiously still; he watches the fire burn down to embers, and he keeps his ears pricked. 

Cass steps out of the trees halfway through what would have been Lance’s shift and drops onto the dirt next to him. Eugene glances at her out of the corner of his eye—she had the decency to sit on his good side, thank the spirits—but doesn't move out of the meditation pose he hadn't realized he was in, legs crossed underneath himself, back straight, and hands rest on his knees, palms up. 

Cass watches him in silence for a few long seconds, then mimics the pose.

“My mother was twenty-two when the Fire Nation took her from the South Pole,” she murmurs, and Eugene closes his eyes. “She was the last bender in her tribe. They kept her and the other waterbenders in cages in a massive prison, fed them just enough to keep them alive, tied their hands before they would give them water. She lived like that for years before she found a way to escape.”

Eugene swallows back nausea, but he doesn't say anything. Cass is talking like every word hurts to say; he doesn't know if she'll finish her story if he interrupts her. 

“She made it out of the prison and stowed away a supply ship going to an Earth Kingdom colony,” Cass continues. “Settled down there with a new name, new identity. Had me, eventually. Taught me to bend in secret. We had heard about other waterbenders in the swamp, but we kept our distance. We knew what would happen if word got back to the Fire Nation.”

Her voice shakes. Eugene keeps his breathing carefully, deliberately steady, focusing on keeping the fire in front of him at an even temperature. 

“Word got out anyways,” Cass says. “Not far, and not to many people. But Rapunzel was in the swamp, and she had outpaced every waterbending master there by the time she was twelve. Her parents started looking for other teachers, other techniques, and eventually they found my mother.” She's quiet for a moment, then says softly, “Raps was fourteen when she came to live with us. No one knew she was the Avatar, not back then. She was just a talented bender.”

Cass sighs, and Eugene cracks his eye open to see that's still sitting in the same position from before, though she's tilted her head back to look up at the sky. The fire isn't bright, but the flickering light is just enough for Eugene to see the tears slowly trickling down Cass’s cheeks. 

“I hated her,” she admits in a whisper. “I hated her so much. I was fifteen, and Mother was all I had, and she loved Rapunzel more than me from the first day she met her. Raps is a better bender than me, and that was all my mother cared about. She treated me like dirt, but she saw her as her true heir, taught her how to heal and–” Her voice catches, and she shakes her head. “She taught her how to do terrible things with waterbending. Things I can't do, and things Raps hates doing but can. Things that go against everything she is and believes in. Mother wanted her to be a warrior, to get revenge on the Fire Nation for what they did to our family.”

Cass clears her throat and finally looks at Eugene, and he opens both eyes and turns his head to meet her gaze as much as he can. 

“I found Rapunzel crying in her room one day,” she says quietly. “Because our mother had made her nearly kill someone with waterbending the week before, and she had accidentally bent earth that morning. She was scared that if Mother found out she was the Avatar, she would make her hurt people. And I couldn't– all Raps has ever wanted to do is help people. Nothing Mother ever did could convince her to do otherwise. And I was so jealous of her, I wanted everything she had, but the thought of my mother using what happened to her as an excuse to turn Rapunzel into a weapon…” 

“You ran,” Eugene murmurs, and Cass nods. 

“Two days later. Took everything I had and vanished with her and Pascal. That was last year. We went back to the swamp, first. I didn't tell anyone there I was a waterbender, and Raps kept it a secret for me. Even with people I should have been able to trust, people who know what it's like to hide, I still couldn't admit it. Spent too many years scared to let it go.”

“I'm sorry,” Eugene says. “I know that's not enough, I know it doesn't make up for anything, but for what it's worth, I am sorry.”

“It's not worth much,” she says. “But it's not nothing. Thank you.”

Cass nods and looks back at the fire. Eugene does the same, not sure how to respond, and they sit in silence for several long minutes. 

“Look,” Cass says finally. “I understand what it is to think you owe it to someone to keep a promise, even someone who hurt you. I know what that feels like. But I need you to understand that I don't have that loyalty to Varian. If it comes down to a choice between him and Rapunzel, or him and Lance or the girls, or even him and you… I'm not going to choose him. I can't do that, Eugene.”

Eugene’s throat clicks as he swallows. “I understand.”

“I can't see anything but Fire Nation when I look at him,” Cass says, almost apologetic. “I don't know if that's fair, but I can't change it. I won't strike first, whenever I see him. But if he tries to hurt me or one of you, I won't hold back, either. That's the best promise I can make for you.”

“I understand,” Eugene says again even as he fights back the burn of tears. “Thank you.”

“You should go to sleep,” Cass says, looking away uncomfortably. “I'll finish your watch.”

“I won't sleep,” Eugene says honestly. “I might as well stay out here; I'd just be staring at the wall all night.”

“Then I'll stay up with you,” Cass says, relaxing into a more comfortable position. Despite himself, Eugene does the same, dropping his shoulders and letting himself slump a little out of the strict posture. “I mean, if that's okay?”

“Yeah,” Eugene says, and he's surprised to realize that he means it. For the first time since he met her nearly six months ago, he feels like they understand each other. “That's okay.”

It's slow going. Eugene, after close to a year of running with the Avatar and the breakneck pace they had moved at the last few months, tries to be okay with it. Varian’s trying, that much is obvious. Eugene can try for him to. 

He builds a makeshift little shelter at Varian’s favorite spot on the beach, little more than a few poles holding up some sturdy canvas, but it provides enough shade that the kid has somewhere to sit where he won't get sunburnt again. Eugene sits with him. He doesn't seem to have whatever knack Varian does for sitting still for so long; he brings books to read or paper and ink to write letters to Quirin and the rest of the team, anything that lets him quietly keep Varian company while the kid does… whatever it is he's doing. 

Varian doesn't seem to know either. After a few days, he peeks at Eugene unsurely and asks, “What do you normally do in your free time?”

Eugene, half asleep in the sand, yawns widely and blinks a few times. “Me?”

“No, someone else,” Varian says, so deadpan that Eugene almost doesn't realize he's making a joke. He snickers and pushes himself upright, stretching as he gives Varian a curious look. 

“I dunno,” he says. “Haven’t had much of that, recently. We used to go explore local towns while we were traveling. Tell each other stories about home. We had a bunch of Pai Sho tiles for a while and Catalina would earthbend us a new board whenever we had time to play.”

“I'm good at Pai Sho,” Varian says like an offering, and Eugene cocks his head to the side. 

“Do you like playing?”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

Eugene tries not to let on how it breaks his heart to hear that, but he can't help but wonder how many things Varian must have been told he enjoys just because he's good at them. 

“I can get us a board,” he says instead. “We'll have to figure out what to do about the tiles. I only have some of them from the set the team used.”

“We could buy some in town,” Varian suggests. “I know you're supposed to win pieces, but you can usually buy a starter set of tiles somewhere, can't you?”

“Yeah,” Eugene says, voice catching. “We can start a new set for you.”

Not completely new, of course. The team split up their bag of tiles when they went their separate ways, trading them back and forth and bickering good naturedly over who got which pieces while pretending the game was all they were talking about. The dozen or so pieces Eugene has now aren't enough to play a full game with, and giving them over to Varian to help him start a new set feels like a worthwhile sacrifice. Fresh, unused tiles, with a handful of well-worn pieces from Eugene to start him on the way towards building his own collection. 

“You… might have to remind me of the rules,” he admits after a few seconds. “We played a lot of weird variations. Just kind of smushed together the different versions we all knew.”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing,” Varian says with a grimace. “I'm used to playing with the Saporians. We all cheated.”

“We'll figure it out,” Eugene assures him. “We can always make up our own rules if we have to.”

Varian ducks his head, but not before Eugene sees his small, shy smile. “Okay,” he says softly. “When do you want to start?”

The team keeps moving. Varian keeps following. For a while, it seems like they might have lost him in the crowded streets of Ba Sing Se, but of course they could never be that lucky. As they flee the city, Rapunzel still twitching and gasping in pain from the lightning blast that nearly killed her, Eugene watches red and gold banners unfurl along the city walls, claiming the capital of the Earth Kingdom for the Fire Nation. 

Quirin once laid siege to that city for nearly two years without success. It seems somehow fitting that his son would be the one to finally win. 

Quirin only withdrew his forces from the city because he heard about Edmund challenging Eugene to an Agni Kai. He had abandoned his post and rushed home, too late to stop it but just in time to say his goodbyes to Ulla and Varian and get on the ship with Eugene as it departed. Varian, in the caverns below Ba Sing Se, had offered to do the same thing. 

“Come home,” he'd said, voice ringing in the silence after Rapunzel fell. “I'll tell Father you killed her. I'll give you the credit, I'll vouch for you, you could be forgiven–”

Eugene, heart lodged in his throat, hadn't said a word in response, had only provided cover fire as Lance scooped Rapunzel up off the ground and ran. Catalina closed the tunnels behind them, and the last Eugene saw of his cousin was his triumphant, hopeful smile disappearing in a flash of hurt as Eugene left him again. 

Rapunzel was lucky to survive. They were all lucky to escape. 

My father said Varian was born lucky, he'd told the team once. He said I was lucky to be born.

Months pass. They find Quirin and Eugene’s old crew again, officially branded traitors to the throne now, but hidden by the slim protection a Fire Nation ship offers them. As Rapunzel slowly recovers, Eugene grapples with the undeniable reality of what Varian is now and just how dangerous he is. It was one thing when he was chasing them, when he let himself get goaded into fights with Eugene instead of going after the Avatar. He might be a kid, might still be Eugene’s family, but it's clear now that his mission will always come first. 

Cass doesn't say anything to Eugene, but he sees the way she looks at him, with something closer to pity than anger. He cries himself to sleep in his uncle’s arms, and he returns the favor a few nights later when Quirin comes to his cabin with an already half-drunk bottle of wine, red-eyed and unsteady on his feet. 

It feels like betraying the team to grieve Varian so deeply when he nearly killed Rapunzel. It feels like betraying Varian to grieve him when he's still alive. 

Rapunzel finds Eugene sitting on the edge of the ship one day, feet dangling over the edge. She winces when she lowers herself to sit down next to him, but she brushes away his concern with a smile. 

“I'm just sore,” she says. “I'll be okay.”

“I'm sorry,” Eugene says, and Rapunzel rolls her eyes. 

“For what? I don't remember the fight all that well, but I don't think you were the one who shot lightning at me.”

Eugene flinches, and she sighs and, moving slowly so he has time to pull away, reaches down and links their fingers together. 

“I'm sorry too,” she murmurs. “I know it's hard, realizing someone you love isn't who you want them to be.”

“I just want him to be okay,” Eugene says. “But I don't think he can be, or at least… not while we are. While you are.”

Rapunzel squeezes his hand, and he grips hers tight in return, hanging his head as his eyes burn with yet another round of pointless tears. 

“It's okay to be sad about it,” she says softly. “It's okay to miss him. You don't have to pretend it doesn't hurt.”

Eugene nods, and Rapunzel reaches up with her free hand to cup his cheek, gently tilting his face towards hers. “You matter to me,” she tells him, and Eugene bites back a sob. “And the things and the people that matter to you matter to me. Okay? I know it's not the same thing, and I can't promise I'll be able to put him first over everything and everyone else, but I care about Varian, too.”

“I just don't want to have to choose,” Eugene says, voice breaking, and Rapunzel thumbs away the tear that slips down his cheek. 

“I don't want you to, either,” she says. “I'm not asking you to do that. We all know you love him. No one’s mad at you for that.”

“Cass is,” Eugene points out, and Rapunzel shakes her head. 

“Cass is worried about you. She's just bad at showing it.”

Eugene closes his eyes and leans into her hand, nodding. “If you say so.”

“She cares about you,” Rapunzel says. “We all do. We love you. I–” Her voice catches, but she continues softly, “I love you, and I know you love us. It's okay that you love him, too.” She trails her fingers down his face before pressing them gently over his chest. “You've got a big heart, Eugene. There's room for us and him in there.”

Eugene opens his eyes and blinks back tears as he looks at her. Big green eyes, mouth set in determination, dark hair still growing out from the choppy cut Eugene gave her after Varian singed half of it off. 

“I do love you,” he says. She nods, but Eugene shakes his head, reaching up to grab her hand on his chest so that he's holding both of her hands in his. “No, I– I love you,” he repeats, and her eyes go wide. 

“Oh,” she breathes. “Oh, okay.”

“I know it's a bad time for it,” Eugene says quickly. “But maybe some day, when things aren't so crazy, we could…?”

“After the comet,” Rapunzel agrees. “After the war. We'll talk?”

“We'll talk,” Eugene says, squeezing her hands. “And… thank you. Really. I appreciate it.”

Rapunzel lifts his hands to her mouth and presses a kiss to his knuckles, managing a teasing smile despite the deep shadows under her eyes and the months of exhaustion etched into the lines around her mouth. 

“Anything for you.”

Dear Rapunzel,

How's the North Pole? I hope you're staying warm. I also hope you know I'm writing five different versions of this letter for each kingdom and pole, since you're moving too fast for me to keep track of these days. I figure one of them will catch you eventually. Wherever it does, I hope you're safe and happy and not working too hard. 

I'm still at the beach house with Varian. We're doing MUCH better than we were, which is something, but we've hit a bit of a snag that I thought you could help with. 

Long story short: we realized this week that Varian hasn't had any hobbies since he was eight or nine. I don't think I've ever seen you without some sort of project in your hands, so I thought you might have some ideas. He used to love reading and playing with chemistry sets as a kid, if that's any help? We've been playing a lot of Pai Sho—he's terrifyingly good, and a better cheat than Lance, but don't tell him that—but that's going to get old at some point. 

Any suggestions?

No rush to respond; I know you're busy with the rebuilding. Tell everyone I said hi, if you see them before I do (which you probably will). Give Max some scratches from me, but don't tell him they're from me. Lick Pascal, I guess? Whatever greeting seems most normal to him. 

Love Sincerely Yours No you know what I meant love,

Eugene

They're camped outside Ba Sing Se with the White Lotus and the rebel armies a few days before the comet is set to strike when they hear a commotion from the front of the camp. The five of them—the entire team, minus Rapunzel, who they still can't find—jump to their feet instantly, nerves frayed and ready to snap after months of fighting, and rush towards the noise, elements and weapons at the ready. 

Andrew and the Saporians are there. Andrew is talking to Xavier, shoulders hunched, eyes darting around nervously. His hair is singed, and blood is smeared across his forehead. The rest of the Saporians are in varying states of injury as well, nursing their wounds and looking distrustfully at the guards circling them. 

“–barely escaped alive,” Andrew says hoarsely as they come up behind him. “We've been trying to get away from him for weeks, we've been sending out messages trying to stop him–”

“Where is he now?” Xavier asks, frowning. “We have a few healers among the waterbenders here that can see to your people.”

“He's camped in a canyon a few miles from here, just off the river,” Andrew says, shoulders relaxing. “We just ran, but he's already injured. If you send a fresh squad after him they might have a chance of taking him out.”

“We are under orders to only take Prince Varian alive,” Xavier says, but he nods to one of his generals, who immediately starts barking orders and gathering soldiers. “If what you say is true, if the information we've been receiving comes from you–”

“Andrew!” Cass barks, and Andrew flinches and whips around, eyes going wide. 

“Oh, spirits,” he groans when he sees them. “What are you doing here?”

“Xaves, you can't trust him,” Eugene says, scowling. “You can't trust any of the Saporians; they've been working for Varian for months.”

“As double agents!” Andrew protests. “We've been feeding the White Lotus intel, we were never actually on his side!”

“Whose side were you on when you stabbed my little sister?” Lance demands, then raises his voice, calling out to the nearby soldiers, “They're Fire Nation spies!”

In an instant, the guards go from cautiously tending to the Saporians' wounds to restraining them. Andrew, ever loyal to his teammates, turns to run, only to yelp when Xavier stomps his foot and stone shoots up out of the ground, encasing Andrew from the shoulders down. He swears and wiggles in place, but he's not a bender, and he can't escape. 

“What did you do to Varian?” Eugene snarls, and Andrew spits. 

“Nothing the little fire brat didn't deserve. The coin isn't worth everything we put up with from him. Isn't he enemy number one here? We left him for you like a sitting turtle duck. You should be thanking us.”

“Eugene,” Xavier says quietly. “If Varian is truly here, then we need to at least send scouts to find out where. We cannot risk him coming into camp or lending aid to Fire Nation soldiers in the city.”

“No, I know,” Eugene groans. “Do what you have to, but don't…”

“He’s Quirin’s son,” Xavier says simply. “I would never.” He turns and whistles, gesturing a few of the soldiers towards him. “Monty, see that the Saporians are transferred to holding safely. Hook Hand, Attila, Vladimir, come with me.”

He claps Eugene on the shoulder as he hurries past him, and Eugene turns back to Andrew. 

“We could help you,” Andrew says. “We're good at what we do, and we'll be as loyal as you pay us to be.”

“You've been playing both sides for a while now, haven't you?” Cass asks before Eugene can say anything. “Working for Varian, doing Edmund’s dirty work for him, and selling Fire Nation secrets behind their backs?”

“We've been planning for our futures,” Andrew says with a dismissive shrug. “The kid’s losing it. Even if the Fire Nation wins, the fire brat would never be able to hold onto the throne. We thought we'd throw our lot in with the side most likely to win.”

“What do you mean, ‘losing it?’” Eugene asks. 

“Why would Varian be on the throne?” Cass asks. “What about Edmund?”

“Edmund has bigger plans in mind than one stretch of islands,” Andrew scoffs. “He's calling himself the Phoenix King now, pretentious piece of–” He spits again, then grins at Eugene with bloody teeth. Whatever lies Andrew’s been telling, it seems he was telling the truth about having fought Varian. “And I mean your precious cousin finally cracked, your highness. Won't sleep, won't eat, talks to people who aren't there. The coronation is sure to be a blast.”

“Coronation?” Eugene repeats numbly, and Andrew’s grin widens. 

“All hail His Majesty, Fire Lord Varian,” he says mockingly. “Long may he reign.”

When Xavier and the soldiers come back a few hours later, grim faced, they tell the team they found Varian’s campsite abandoned, signs of a fight, and blood on the ground. When Eugene goes to saddle up Max, he turns to find Cass standing a few feet away, bag slung over her shoulder and chin jutted out stubbornly. 

“No,” Eugene says. 

“I'm not asking,” Cass says, stepping past him to hitch her bag onto the eel hound’s saddle next to Eugene. “I already talked to Lance. He and the girls will handle the airships. I'm coming with you.”

“What about Rapunzel?”

“Raps will come back,” Cass says. “I trust her. But you don't think right around that kid. You need someone to watch your back.”

Eugene opens his mouth and closes it without saying anything, because he doesn't know what to say. Cass puts one foot in the stirrup, but hesitates before she climbs up, staring at her feet for a moment before she looks up at Eugene. “I promised you I wouldn't strike Varian first,” she says quietly. “And I meant that. But I won't let you stand there and let him kill you, either.”

She hops up into the saddle with familiar ease, then reaches down to hold out her hand to Eugene. “Come on. It's a long swim to the Fire Nation, and we only have a few days to get there.”

Eugene hesitates, then takes her hand and lets her pull him up.

Eugene doesn't know what to expect when someone knocks on the front door to the beach house. He cracks it open cautiously, then lets out a surprised, joyful shout and throws it wide open when he sees a familiar grin and freckles. He scoops Rapunzel up without thinking about it, laughing and spinning her around a few times on the porch. Rapunzel laughs too, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. 

“Hi!” she says breathlessly when he sets her down. “It's so good to see you!”

“I didn't know you were coming!” Eugene cries, waving her inside. “Come on, come in, I was just making lunch. Where's Max? Do you need anything?”

“He's swimming out past the shallows,” Rapunzel says. She's grinning like she can't help it as she scoops up her bag and a large wrapped box she had set down on the porch, apparently anticipating that Eugene would tackle her. He holds out his hands for the box automatically, and she hands it over with a grateful smile. It's heavier than Eugene expected, and it rattles as he shifts it to one arm so he can close the door behind them. 

“Hunting?” he asks. 

“He likes Fire Nation fish,” Rapunzel says. “What are you making for lunch? Do you need help with anything?”

“You're a guest, so absolutely not,” Eugene says. “It's nothing fancy, anyways; I'm just heating up leftovers. What are you doing here?”

He can't stop grinning. It's so wide that his cheeks hurt, but it's a good ache, like stretching long-unused muscles. Rapunzel grins back as she drops into a chair at the kitchen table, letting her bag fall carelessly off her shoulder onto the floor. Eugene sets the box down much more gently on the table in front of her. 

“You said you needed some help finding hobbies,” Rapunzel says. “And I thought it would be easier to bring you some things and show you how to use them than to just send you a list. Plus, you know.” Her smile turns shy. “I wanted to see you.”

Eugene is sure that one day his heart will stop turning somersaults for her, but he hopes it's not any time soon. 

“I've missed you too,” he says softly. “Thanks for coming.”

“Open the box,” Rapunzel says, nearly wiggling in place. “I can't wait to show you everything, I spent so long picking out what to bring–”

Eugene laughs again at her excitement and quickly unwraps the frog sealskin tarp—waterproofing is a necessity when traveling by eel hound—and popping off the lid. He doesn't have to feign his amazement when he sees the contents; it's a carefully organized riot of colors and textures inside, so much his eyes don't know what to focus on first. 

Rapunzel jumps to her feet and starts rifling through it before Eugene can decide where to start, pulling things out and laying them on the table as she chatters excitedly about the contents. “I brought paper and inks and paints, if he wants to try painting or writing, and different colored threads and beads to make bracelets with, which is really good if you just need something to keep your hands busy, and here’s a tambourine and an instruction book, and I picked up this book in Omashu that's about inventions and designs, since you said he used to like those–”

She's interrupted by the sound of the back door opening and Varian's bare feet running down the hall towards them. 

“Eugene!” he calls, laughing. “Are you in here? You have to come see, there's an eel hound in the bay playing with the–”

He skids to a halt when he runs into the kitchen, pulling up so short he nearly trips. He flails for a moment before he catches his balance, then goes ramrod straight, eyes locked on Rapunzel. His eyes widen, and he goes suddenly pale under his tan. 

“A-avatar Rapunzel,” he stammers, then quickly presses his right fist to the base of his left palm and bows. He's breathing hard when he stands up, eyes darting between her and Eugene. “I, um, I apologize for my entrance, and for not greeting you properly, I was… unaware you were going to be here.”

He swallows hard. He's back in parade rest, damn it. 

“Hi, Varian,” Rapunzel says, smiling like this situation is completely normal. “Don't worry about it; I only just got here, and I didn't tell anyone I was coming. I should have written ahead, but I thought it would be fun to surprise Eugene. I'm sorry for dropping in unannounced.”

“No, you– it's Prince Eugene’s house, and you're his friend, and I'm sure you're welcome everywhere, anyways,” Varian says. “So, um, welcome to… here.”

It might be funny to see him so flustered if it weren't just sad. Varian was under constant surveillance in the immediate aftermath of the Agni Kai and the war ending; he only saw Rapunzel in passing once or twice before she left to travel the globe and Eugene took him to Ember Island. The last time they actually interacted, he nearly killed her. 

“Rapunzel brought some things for you,” Eugene says quickly. “For us, I mean. So we don't get sick of Pai Sho.”

“Oh,” Varian says. He's still frozen in the doorway. “Thank you, Avatar.”

“Just Rapunzel is fine,” Rapunzel says. “You're welcome to look, if you want, or you can save it for later. What did you say Max is doing?”

Varian licks his lips nervously. “Max?” he asks faintly. “My apologies, Av– Rapunzel, I don't think I know…”

“The eel hound,” Eugene says when Varian trails off. He can almost see the kid’s mind spinning, desperately trying to figure out what he's missing and if this is a trick question. “In the bay, that's Max. He's Rapunzel’s. We rode him and Fidella all over the world.”

“Oh,” Varian says. “I'm sorry, I knew you traveled on eel hounds, but I didn't know their names. I apologize, I didn't mean any disrespect for your mounts.”

“You weren't being disrespectful,” Rapunzel says. Her smile doesn't falter, but it does soften. “You just didn't know. That's not your fault. It's not a problem.”

Varian nods quickly. “Right, of course, I– thank you. Uh, sorry, to answer your question, he's playing with the, um.” He swallows and licks his lips again. He looks halfway to a nervous breakdown. “The flying dolphin fish. Out in the bay. They're breaching.”

“Are they?” Rapunzel asks with a laugh. “That's adorable. I didn't realize dolphin fish came this close to shore.”

Varian’s shoulders relax an almost imperceptible amount at her amusement. “They normally don't,” he says. “I think they were curious about him.”

“Can I see?” Rapunzel asks. “Max is always so serious, it's funny to see him just play around.”

“Of course,” Varian says, with another quick bow. “Whatever you want. I can show you.”

“That would be great,” Rapunzel says. “Eugene?”

“Yeah, let's go,” Eugene says. “Max hasn't had a chance to bully me in weeks. Poor guy’s probably going into withdrawal.”

Varian nods again then turns smartly on his heel and marches towards the back door. Eugene holds his hand out to Rapunzel, and his heart flips yet again when she laces their fingers together. 

“He's been doing a lot better than this,” he says in a low voice, glancing down the hall to make sure Varian is out of earshot. “I think you startled him.”

“I should have written first,” Rapunzel says, chagrined. “I just got excited. I wasn't thinking about it.”

“It's okay,” Eugene assures her, and she shakes her head a little. 

“It's not. And I know we… didn't get our chance to have that talk we wanted,” she says carefully.  “With everything else going on. But if I had written ahead, I would have signed it the same way that you did.”

Eugene’s mouth curls up in a smile. “Yeah?”

Rapunzel squeezes his hand. “Yeah. Come on, let's go look before Max remembers his dignity.”

Eugene lets her tug him down the hallway without resistance, smiling helplessly. Varian is waiting at the back door, hands behind his back and head bent respectfully. He eyes them through his bangs for half a second when they come around the corner, eyes catching on their clasped hands, but he doesn't say anything, just holds the door open for them without a word.

Eugene and Cass arrive at the palace moments before the coronation. It's the first time Eugene has been home since he was banished. He doesn't let himself think about that, just looks around at the starkly empty courtyard. There's no audience for Varian’s moment of triumph. Eugene was still in single digits when his grandfather died and his father was crowned the Fire Lord, but he still remembers the seemingly endless sea of faces watching from the crowd and the earth-shattering roar of approval when the sage introduced his father as Fire Lord Edmund. 

The only people here now are the fire sages and, standing behind Varian with an expression of almost delirious joy, Fire Lady Ulla. Varian looks up sharply when Max skids into the courtyard and Eugene and Cass leap off his back. His hair is cut choppy and even, like someone tried to trim it with garden shears instead of scissors. His left eye is wide and wild, and his right is swollen nearly shut under a bruise that covers half his face in a strange, painful reflection of Eugene’s scar. There's a scab on his lower lip that pops open when he grins. 

“Eugene!” he cries, standing up and throwing his arms wide. The sleeves of the ceremonial robes flop past his fingertips, comically large on his tiny frame, like a child playing dress up in his father’s clothes. “Come for the party? Perfect timing. You can offer me your congratulations, and then I can kill you.”

“We're back to wanting me dead?” Eugene asks. “What happened to letting me come home?”

“You had one chance, and you didn't take it,” Varian says flatly. His manic grin doesn't fade. “I shouldn't have given you that chance anyways. It was foolish. Did you know the Saporians left me, too? I can't even pay people to want me anymore. I should have known better than to think you would. You never have.”

He laughs like breaking glass. “You and that traitor uncle of yours, choosing anyone other than me every chance you get every single time. I gave you so many chances, Eugene! I waited for so long.” His voice breaks, and he laughs again. “And you finally come home, just in time to see me win. Perfect timing.”

“I wasn't allowed to come home,” Eugene says, struggling to keep his voice even. Varian can't even stand up straight. What did Andrew do to him? “I'm not the one who put us on opposite sides, kid. That was Edmund. I didn't exactly banish myself.”

Varian’s expression twists into something unsure, but before he can say anything, Ulla steps forward, placing a hand on his shoulder and murmuring something him his ear. Varian’s face hardens, and he drops his hands, letting the robe slip off his shoulders into the ground. 

He's still in his armor. Of course he is. 

“You never even wrote to me,” he accuses. “Quirin said you'd both write to me, and you never sent a single letter.”

“We did,” Eugene says. “Both of us, for years. We sent letters every month. Someone–” He cuts his eyes to Ulla, who keeps her expression carefully blank, “–kept them from you.”

Varian freezes and follows his gaze. “No, you wouldn't– Mother?”

Ulla’s face softens as she looks down at Varian, and she brings one hand up to cup his cheek, gently tracing the edge of his black eye. 

“You needed to focus on your studies,” she says gently. “You were so young, sweetheart. I couldn't have you listening to traitors and deserters, filling your head with lies.”

Varian stumbles back a step away from her, nearly tripping over the robes on the ground. “No, but you– you said he never wrote, you said there weren't any letters–”

“A little white lie,” Ulla says, voice still sweet and kind, every inch a loving mother as she says, “You were always meant for greater things than Quirin would have let you achieve, and I needed to keep you on the right path. You're not a child anymore, Varian. You're about to be the Fire Lord. You're too old to be throwing tantrums.”

Varian stares at her. He's trembling as he looks between her and Eugene, then down at the robes on the ground. 

“Varian,” Eugene says softly, taking a cautious step forward, and Varian whips an arm out towards him without looking, first two fingers pointed in a way that Eugene knows means lightning. He freezes in place, but Varian still doesn't look at him, instead turning to the Fire Sage. 

“Arrest her,” he says calmly.

The sage, still holding the crown, gulps. “Your highness, I… you haven't been crowned yet. The Fire Lady outranks you.”

“Arrest her or I'll kill you and the rest of the sages and burn your family’s homes to ash with your grandchildren inside,” Varian says. “She has conspired against the crown prince of the Fire Nation, son of the Phoenix King, and future Fire Lord.” The sage still doesn't move, and Varian wheels around to point at the sage instead, blue sparks crackling at his fingertips as he bares his teeth. “Now.”

The sage drops the crown. 

“Varian,” Ulla says, but Varian ignores her as the sages converge on her. “Sweetheart, what are you– take your hands off me, I’m the Fire Lady, I am the Phoenix Queen–”

Ulla’s not a bender, but the sages are. They might be older, but they outnumber her, and even with no citizens or fellow nobles to impress, she's too dignified to put up a fight as they lead her away, chin up and eyes flashing. 

“Do you know what I've sacrificed for you?” she snarls at Varian, who doesn't so much as glance at her. “How hard I worked to get you where you are? You'd be nothing without me, Edmund never gave a damn about you without me singing your praises, you ungrateful little–”

The door slams behind her as she's led inside. Varian keeps his eyes down, staring once more at the robes and the crown sitting on top of them. 

“Well, this isn't how I expected today to go,” he says mildly, finally turning to look at Eugene. “Why do you love causing trouble for me? Are you really that jealous?”

“I'm not,” Eugene says quietly, and Varian shakes his head. 

“You are. You always have been. Why? I can't help that I'm better than you! I can't help that I'm a better bender, a better son, a better prince. I can't help that your father loves me more than you. I never asked him to! You already took my dad, why can't you just stop ruining things!”

His voice cracks as he shouts, glaring at Eugene from the top of the steps, either unaware or uncaring of the tears dripping down his cheeks. 

“I'm not trying to,” Eugene says softly. Cass shifts her weight beside him, still as silent as she's been for most of the trip here, but out of the corner of his eye, Eugene sees her flick her fingers, reading the pouch of water on her belt. “Kid, all I want is to help you.”

“No, you don't,” Varian says, shaking his head frantically. “No, you'd kill me if I gave you the chance. You're a traitor to the throne, to my throne, I never should have– I kept letting you go, I'm an idiot, I wanted you to change your mind, even though I knew you never would. Fine. Fine! It was always going to end this way, wasn't it? You were never going to let me just live my life, you're always going to…” 

He breaks off into a frustrated shout and storms down the steps until he's standing only a few feet away from Eugene. It should be a ridiculous sight, this tiny kid glaring up at him, but this close to him and with the comet overhead, Eugene can feel the heat coming off of him, barely contained rage ready to spill over any moment. 

“Let's finish this,” Varian hisses. “Just you and me, the showdown that was always meant to be. Agni Kai.”

Cass sucks in a sharp breath next to him. Eugene stares down at Varian, already injured, unsteady on his feet, and the greatest firebender their nation has ever seen. Reeling from back to back betrayals from everyone he trusted, deadly with a sword or with lightning. Eugene’s little brother, Rapunzel’s would-be murderer. 

Fourteen years old, and all alone in the world.

“I accept.”

Rapunzel can't seem to stop laughing. “Oh, spirits, look at him go,” she wheezes, sagging against Eugene’s shoulder. “He can never turn down a race, look at him–”

She's right. Max is swimming frantic circles around the flying dolphin fish out in the bay, jumping when they do and cutting through the water, seemingly unaware of the fact that they're just playing. His ever-expressive face is set in a determined glare, while the dolphin fish trill and click excitedly to each other, clearly having fun with their new friend. 

“We'll have to get him a medal or something to make him feel better,” Eugene says. He's laughing too, half at the sight out in the water and half at the fact that Rapunzel still hasn't let go of his hand. “He's gonna be so mad when he realizes this isn't a contest.” 

Varian, sitting on the sand with them and keeping Eugene carefully in between himself and Rapunzel, snickers a little but quickly cuts himself off, wincing like he thinks he's going to get in trouble. Eugene doesn't know how to explain to him that he's allowed to laugh with them. 

“Do you see dolphin fish in the bay a lot?” Rapunzel asks. “Varian?”

“Oh, um, not really,” Varian says. “Sometimes you can see them farther out on the horizon. I think they must have followed you and Max in.”

“I'm glad,” Rapunzel says. “This is fun. It's a really nice set up that you have here.”

“Eugene built the overhang,” Varian says. “So we can stay out here and not get sunburned.”

“I got tired of toting an umbrella back and forth,” Eugene admits. “And Varian burns like he's never seen the sun before, so…”

Varian huffs out another uncomfortable laugh. “I've worn almost head to toe armor most of every day for the last three years,” he says. “Not a lot of time for sunbathing.”

Eugene, who's gotten used to Varian's awkward way of making jokes, laughs. Rapunzel looks startled for a moment, but she catches on quickly and giggles, too. 

“I guess not,” she says. “Oh, looks like Max is done.”

Even after spending half an hour swimming at a breakneck pace through the bay, Max still manages to run up the beach towards them. He apparently picked up his own lunch out in the ocean before stepping out of the water; he's carrying a large, wriggling brown fish in his mouth as he trots your to them, which he drops on the sand a few feet away before jumping on Eugene with a loud, excited bark. 

It would be a cuter greeting if Max weren't thirty feet long from nose to tail tip; Eugene yelps as he goes skidding back across the sand, pinned under several hundred pounds of excited eel hound. 

“Hi, buddy,” he wheezes, patting Max’s snout. “Missed you, too.”

Rapunzel, hidden behind her insane dog, is absolutely cackling. “Max, off!” she wheezes, and Eugene hears her scampering across the sand towards him so that she can tug Max off of him. “Come on, let him breathe–”

Max steps off with a mournful whine, and Eugene rubs the back of his head as he sits up before reaching out to take Max’s massive head in his hands, laughing as he scratches behind his ears. “That's a good boy,” he coos, and Max’s tongue lolls out of his mouth as he pants happily. “Did you have a good swim, buddy? You had fun?”

Max drops on his haunches as he begins to thump his back foot, sending a spray of sand flying up around him. Varian splutters and scrambles out of the way, but he's really laughing now, even though he has both hands pressed over his mouth to muffle the sound. 

“Varian, this is Max,” Eugene says, grinning at him. “Max, Varian. He's a friend.” 

Max turns to Varian and chitters softly, the strange, gurgling bark Eugene hadn't realized he’s missed hearing. Varian lowers his hands, staring at Max with a kind of childish excitement that Eugene absolutely knows he's missed seeing. 

“Can I pet him?” Varian asks, looking between Max and Rapunzel. “Please?”

“Go ahead,” Rapunzel says with a grin. “He's friendly.”

Varian holds one hand out towards Max, giggling again when the eel hound sniffs at his fingers before butting his head against Varian’s palm, happily accepting the pets for a moment before shaking his head with a snort and finally letting Eugene up. He pads back to where he left the fish wriggling in the sand, picking it up delicately in his massive jaws before whipping his head from side to the side. Eugene grimaces despite himself at the audible crack as the poor thing’s spine snaps from the force, then gags as Max flops down in the sand and begins to eat. 

“Okay, we should go inside,” he said, hopping to his feet and brushing sand off of himself as best he can. He sends Rapunzel a pleading look when it only sticks to his hands, wet from petting Max, and she rolls her eyes but sends it showering off his back and shoulders with a flick of her fingers. He grins and waves her and Varian inside. “Come on. We should eat too, you must be starving. We have stew from last night.”

“Thanks,” Rapunzel says with a smile, and she takes his hand again as they walk back to the house, Varian bouncing along the path ahead of them. The kitchen table is still halfway covered in Rapunzel’s presents for Varian, so Rapunzel and Varian set up a blanket outside for a makeshift picnic while Eugene carefully heats up the leftover stew from last night and spoons it out into bowls. He's just about to step outside, three bowls balanced on a serving tray, when Varian’s voice floats through the open door. 

“I'm sorry,” he tells Rapunzel quietly, and Eugene freezes in place. “For– for everything I did to you and your friends.”

“You don't need to apologize,” Rapunzel says. 

“I think I do,” Varian says. “But I won't, if you don't want me to.”

“Will you feel better if I let you?”

Varian doesn't answer at first, clearly mulling it over, then he sighs. “Yes,” he says. “I think so.”

“All right then,” Rapunzel says softly. “You can.”

Varian’s apology hurts just to overhear; Eugene doesn't want to think about actually having it directed at him as the kid lists off everything he did on Edmund’s orders. “I'm sorry for hunting you, I'm sorry for hiring the Saporians to help me hunt you, I'm sorry for taking over Ba Sing Se, I'm sorry for trying to kill your sister, and I'm sorry for almost killing you in the caverns.”

Rapunzel takes a deep breath. “Is that everything?”

“I think so,” Varian says. “And I'm sorry for anything I forgot about.”

“I still don't think you really owe me an apology,” Rapunzel says, “but I accept it, and I forgive you. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry, too.”

“You're sorry?” Varian asks, sounding baffled. “What for? You didn't do anything.”

“I didn't listen to Eugene when he said we needed to help you,” Rapunzel says softly. “We should have tried harder.”

Still hiding just inside the doorway, Eugene closes his eyes. 

Varian is quiet for a long moment. When he finally speaks, his voice is so quiet Eugene has to strain to hear it. “Eugene wanted to help me?”

“From the first day we met him,” Rapunzel says. “Even after we met you. Even when the entire rest of the team told him he should give up, he kept insisting you just needed help.”

“Oh.” Eugene hears a soft sniffle, then a watery laugh. “Yeah, he's always been dumb like that.”

Rapunzel laughs too, and even Eugene smiles a little despite himself. “I don't know about that. He was right, wasn't he?” 

“Yeah,” Varian murmurs. “I guess so.”

“He's not going to hold back.”

“I know.”

“He wants you dead in the ground.”

“I know he does.”

“He won't play fair. He'll do whatever it takes to win.”

“I know he will.”

“So why would you accept a one on one duel?” Cass demands in a furious hiss. 

“He's slipping,” Eugene says quietly, looking over his shoulder at where Varian is standing stock still, staring dead-eyed at Eugene and Cass. He didn't bring a second with him. Eugene doesn't know if it's because he's confident enough to think he won't need one, or because there's no one left that he could ask. “Not to mention already injured. I can take him.”

“We could take him together without you risking your life to do it,” Cass says, and Eugene shakes his head sharply. 

“If you step in, it invalidates the rules of the Agni Kai. Varian would win by default.”

“I don't care about the rules, I won't put your honor above your life,” Cass snaps. “I already told you I won't stand back and let him kill you just because you refuse to fight him.”

“I'll fight him,” Eugene says. “I know what I have to do, Cass.”

Cass regards him in silence for a long moment. “If killing him is the only way to stop him, will you do it?”

“You know the answer to that,” Eugene says tiredly. “Isn't that why you came?”

“Are you done yet?” Varian calls from across the courtyard. “Come on, Eugene, you've kept me waiting this long.”

Eugene finally turns around and walks to the center of the courtyard. Varian grins as he stalks forward to meet him. Blue lightning crackles at his fingertips. 

“This is going to be fun,” he says, laughing, and Eugene just barely dodges the first blast. 

The fight is terrifying. The comet overhead amplifies both of their bending, and Eugene struggles to control it, trying not to set the palace on fire around them. Varian has no such qualms; he shoots off bolts of lightning and impossibly huge streams of fire, determined to hurt Eugene and mindless of what else gets caught in the blast. Eugene dodges and diverts what he can, and he aims his own attacks at Varian’s chest and legs, trying just to knock him off his feet. 

Varian laughs the whole time. He laughs as he staggers drunkenly across their makeshift battleground, as he hurls fire at Eugene, as he draws himself upright and points two fingers at Eugene. 

Eugene does the same, bracing himself for the painful but ultimately harmless feeling of electricity passing through him, and then Varian looks away from him, off to the side of the courtyard. Eugene follows his gaze, and his heart stops. 

Varian's looking at Cass. 

Time seems to move in slow motion. Varian twists to point at her instead, and Eugene takes off at a sprint, carefully grounded stance abandoned in his rush to get there in time. There's no way to get back in position before Varian shoots. Eugene takes the blast directly in the chest, and he goes spinning through the air before hitting the ground with a thud, writhing in senseless pain when he slides to a stop a dozen feet away. 

He can't think. He can't hear. He can't breathe, it hurts, it hurts–

Through the fog in his eyes, he watches two indistinct, faceless figures chase each other around the courtyard, waves of blue shapes that he can't recognize as Cass’s water or Varian’s fire. He manages to roll onto his side, coughing and wheezing as he curls into a ball, a purely animal instinct to stay small until whatever's hurting him loses interest. He can't tell Cass and Varian apart from this distance, can't differentiate between their bending, until one of them pulls up a wave of blue out of the ground that freezes in place around both of them. Ice, he realizes distantly. 

Cass, trapping Varian right where she wants him. Doing what she’s promised him over and over that she would do, given the chance. 

Eugene closes his eyes. 

He opens them when he feels a hand on his neck, two fingers pressed to his pulse point. This close, he can make out Cass’s face, pale and wide eyed, expression breaking in relief when she sees him look at her. “Oh, thank the spirits,” she whispers. “Thought he got you there for a second.”

Sound filters in slowly. Eugene blinks dumbly at her, then jerks upright when he realizes he can hear something else: someone crying. He winces and falls back at first, but Cass pulls him back up, helping him sit up when he's trembling too hard to do it himself. 

At the edge of the courtyard, Varian is chained to one of the grates that feeds water to the ponds. He's soaking wet and sobbing hysterically as he yanks at the metal, but he's still alive. 

Eugene can't pull his eyes away. “You didn't…?”

“He's just a kid,” Cass says. She sounds exhausted, like every word takes effort. “I don't know. I couldn't… I couldn't do it.”

Eugene’s arm is already wrapped over her shoulder. He leans in, hugging her as tightly as he aching muscles can manage. “Thank you,” he whispers, voice thick with tears, and Cass nods before carefully gathering her feet under her. 

“Can you walk?” she asks. 

“Will you help me?” Eugene asks hoarsely, and Cass pulls him to his feet without a word. 

“Always,” she says.

Rapunzel stays at Ember Island for three days. Eugene wishes it could be longer, but the rest of the world needs the Avatar more than he needs his friend. 

More than a friend, now. They finally had that talk, and now Eugene has a whole new list of things to miss about her. 

“I can see why you like her,” Varian says as he waves goodbye to her and Max while they swim away, heading towards the Earth Kingdom to visit Lance and the girls in Omashu. After those first few hours of awkwardness, he and Rapunzel got along like a house on fire. Varian had carefully examined everything in the box, determined to try everything at least once. Some he tried and discarded, other he took to like a turtle duck to water. Eugene’s already resigned himself to listening to Varian jangle the tambourine for hours and dodging the tiny whizzing toys he makes out of folded paper and scraps of cloth and metal. 

It's good to see him play again. 

“Hm?” Eugene asks. He's a little distracted; his lips are still tingling from Rapunzel’s very thorough goodbye. 

Varian snorts. “Rapunzel,” he says. “She's really nice. She's a good friend, and a good Avatar.”

“Yeah, she is,” Eugene agrees, finally looking away from Max and Rapunzel on the distance so he can smile at Varian. “I'm glad you two got along so well. You don't have to, but maybe some time I can introduce you to the rest of the team.”

Varian shrugs one shoulder, clearly hesitant, but he looks more shy than nervous about the idea. “Yeah. Maybe.” He wraps his arms around himself, rocking back on his heels. “She, um, she helped me realize some things.”

“That you like loud noises and throwing things at me?” Eugene teases, and Varian grins at him. 

“I already knew I like that. No, but we talked some while you were in town, about what I've been doing here. Because I said all I did for a while was just look at the ocean, and I know that made you upset, and I couldn't explain why I was doing it because I didn't know why it made me feel better, either.”

Eugene’s smile fades. “I'm sorry I yelled at you about that,” he says. “I know I already apologized, but…”

“And I'm sorry I electrocuted you,” Varian says with a shrug. “It's fine. You've tried harder to help me than anyone else in years. I'm not gonna hold it against you that you got frustrated when I kept making it so hard.”

Eugene doesn't think Varian made it hard on purpose, but he doesn't think it's worth it to start an argument about that right now. “Did you figure out why?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” Varian says with a tiny smile. “The ocean’s bigger than me, is the thing. It's bigger than anyone. I can track the tides if I want to, but I can't keep track of each wave or figure out what every single fish in the sea is doing. All that water out there, that's been there forever, way longer and way stronger than me. I'm a good fighter, but I couldn't fight the whole ocean. It would drown me in a minute.”

Eugene blinks. “The thought of drowning makes you feel better?”

Oh, spirits, he's gonna have to swim out after Rapunzel and beg her to come back and help. This is way more than Eugene’s equipped to deal with. 

“No!” Varian laughs, then grimaces. “Okay, maybe a little, at first. But I just like the idea of something being bigger than me like that. You know?”

“Not really,” Eugene admits, and Varian sighs. 

“Eugene, I've been the most important, most powerful person in any room I've been in since I was twelve. Crown Prince Varian, heir to the throne. Admiral Varian, master strategist.” He shrugs again. “It's nice, seeing something that doesn't care about all that. Makes me feel small, I guess. But safe, like I'm hiding, like a turtle crab or something. I'm still figuring out who just Varian is, but that–” He gestures vaguely towards the water, and the dark speck in the distance where Max and Rapunzel are already about to disappear over the horizon. “–makes me feel more like him. Like he's someone I could be again.”

“I think you're pretty well on your way there,” Eugene says softly. “I'm really proud of you.”

Varian smiles a little, peeking at Eugene out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Eugene says. Varian sways towards him and bumps his shoulder against Eugene’s arm, and Eugene takes a deep breath, gathers his nerve, and wraps his arm around Varian's shoulders, tucking him close to his side. It's not quite a hug, but it's closer to one than when he was trying to restrain Varian after the Agni Kai. It's the closest he's come to just holding his little brother— officially his brother now since Edmund adopted him, at least in the eyes of the Fire Nation—since he was thirteen. 

Varian grins up at him. “Can we play Pai Sho after dinner? Rapunzel taught me some tricks I want to try.”

“Rapunzel taught you how to cheat, you mean,” Eugene corrects, and Varian’s grin widens. 

“I already know how to cheat. She taught me new ways to cheat.”

Eugene snorts out a laugh and turns to walk back to the house. He leaves his arm around Varian’s shoulders. “Yeah, all right, master strategist. I know how to cheat to. We'll see how your fancy tricks match up to my down and dirty street rules.”

“Stealing my tiles off the board when I'm not looking isn't cheating, that's just playing wrong!” Varian says, exasperated, and Eugene snickers. “Pai Sho is about tactics and planning, cheating is just another form of strategy, but there's nothing fun about just breaking the game completely–”

They continue bickering through dinner and then during the game itself. Varian watches the board like a messenger hawk, but Eugene still manages to snag his white lotus tile and slip it into his sleeve without Varian noticing. 

Varian beats him anyways. Eugene doesn't mind. 

That night, Varian strolls through the kitchen after his bath, still toweling his hair dry. “Heading to bed?” Eugene asks, and Varian nods. 

“Just wanted to say goodnight,” he says through a yawn. “What’re you writing?”

“Letter to Quirin,” Eugene says, nodding towards the paper in front of him. It's been nice, actually having positive updates for his uncle. Things in the capital are still a mess, but at least Eugene’s not lying when he says Varian’s doing better. “Sleep well.”

Varian waves and turns to leave, but he hesitates for a moment in the doorway before turning back around. “Can you tell him I said hi?” he asks, and Eugene blinks, trying to hide his surprise. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, of course. Anything else?”

Varian shakes his head. “Just hi. I'm not…” He puffs out his cheeks as he sighs. “I'm not ready to talk to him yet. Just that, for now.”

“That's okay,” Eugene says softly. “I think just that will mean a lot to him.”

Varian nods a little, then yawns again and offers Eugene a sleepy smile. “Night, Eugene.”

“Night, Varian.”

Varian lingers in the doorway for another moment, scuffing his bare foot against the floor before he says, “Um. I love you.”

This kid just loves to make Eugene cry, doesn't he? Eugene swallows past the lump in his throat and says, “I love you too, kid. I'm really glad you're here, you know that?”

Varian ducks his head and nods a few times. “I'm glad I'm here too,” he says. “Thanks for coming back for me.”

“I'm sorry it took me so long,” Eugene says softly. “I didn't mean to keep you waiting.”

“It's okay,” Varian mumbles, then sniffs and looks up at Eugene with a watery smile. “You're here now, right?”

“I am,” Eugene says, and the candle next to him flickers as he takes a deep, steadying breath. “And I'm not going anywhere this time. Not without you.”

“I should really get to sleep,” Varian says. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“I'll be here,” Eugene promises. 

Varian's smile widens, and his shoulders relax. “Yeah. I know you will.”