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“Okay,” Varian murmurs, completely focused on the beaker in front of him. The pink chemicals inside bubble and sizzle as he lowers his goggles over his eyes and grabs a pipette. “If my calculations are correct, it just needs three drops of this.”
Ruddiger chitters in agreement, pulling a smaller pair of goggles over his face. Varian huffs out a laugh before focusing once more on the project in front of him. It requires every ounce of his attention; if the ingredients aren’t precise, he risks another explosion.
One drop goes in.
Then another.
He gently squeezes, watching the third begin to drop, and-
The door slams open so hard it nearly leaves a dent in the wall, causing Varian to yelp and squeeze the pipette harder than he means to.
“Goggles!” Hugo exclaims from the doorway, huffing like he’s just run a marathon.
“Fuck!” Varian shouts as his project starts to bubble hard enough that the entire beaker starts to shake. “Ruddiger, get the-“
He doesn’t have time to finish his sentence, just barely able to shield Ruddiger before the beaker explodes, sending shards of glass and pink chemicals flying across the room.
Varian looks up and raises his goggles to glare at his boyfriend, who smiles back sheepishly.
“Er, sorry,” he says. “But! I’m mad at you!”
Varian rolls his eyes as Ruddiger drags over the dustpan they keep in the corner of the lab. Explosions and mishaps happen all the time, so it’s no surprise that Hugo is hardly deterred by the mess he’s caused.
“Oh really,” Varian deadpans, used to his boyfriend’s dramatics. “And what, pray tell, did I do this time?”
Hugo strides further into the room as Varian gathers up the shards of glass. “You didn’t tell me there’s a whole holiday for mothers!”
Varian frowns as he dumps the glass in the trash. “Well, yeah? Corona has a holiday for like, everything. I didn’t think it was an important one to mention.”
Hugo huffs, shoving papers aside so he can sit on the lab table. “It would’ve been nice to know.”
“Why?” Varian asks, perplexed. Ruddiger crawls into Hugo’s lap, letting out a happy purr when the blond scratches behind his ears. “I thought you said you’re not into stuff like that.”
Hugo adjusts his glasses. “Yeah, well.” He clears his throat. “I dunno. It’s dumb.”
Varian narrows his eyes as he approaches his boyfriend. “Hugh, what is this about?”
Hugo stares firmly at the ground, only begrudgingly making eye contact when Varian ducks his head to catch his gaze with a small laugh. “Love, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Hugo finally says. “It’s just… you know how Don’s coming to visit?”
Varian nods. Ever since Hugo’s decision to stay in Corona, his mentor has been making time every few months or so to visit. It’s been nice, watching them slowly mend a relationship that had been so fractured before.
Hugo shrugs. “I just… you know what she means to me. She’s the closest thing to a mother I’ll ever have, and I-“ he clears his throat. “I dunno. Forget about it.”
“Oh,” Varian says softly. “Hugo, do you want to do something for Mother’s Day?”
Hugo snorts. “What, with you?”
“No, asshole,” Varian lightly shoves him. “With Donella.”
Hugo snorts before wrapping his arms around Varian’s waist and burying his face in his neck. Ruddiger chitters in annoyance and scurries away while Varian gently plays with Hugo’s hair, patiently waiting for a response.
“Maybe,” Hugo eventually murmurs against his neck. “Is that stupid?”
Varian hums. “Of course not. You love her, and you know she views you as her son.”
“Well yeah,” Hugo sits up, looking uncharacteristically shy. “But it’s not like we’ve actually talked about it. I mean, you remember the night I almost called her mom.”
“Yeah, you spent nearly an hour having a panic attack and cried yourself to sleep.” Varian laughs when Hugo pouts. “I really don’t get why you’re so afraid. She’s your family.”
“But there’s always the lingering question of whether or not I’m hers,” Hugo insists. Which, to Varian, is ridiculous. He sees the way Donella looks at him when she visits Corona, the same way Lance looks at Kiera and Catalina when they’ve done something exceptional.
Varian gently caresses Hugo’s cheek, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach when Hugo leans into the touch. “Hugo,” he whispers. “Of course you’re her family. If you want to do something for Mother’s Day, don’t let the fear stop you.”
Hugo searches Varian’s eyes for a moment before drawing a shaky breath and nodding. “Okay,” he murmurs, placing a soft kiss to Varian’s palm. “Maker, this is so stupid.”
Varian smiles. “Maybe a little, but it’s okay. We’re stupid together, that’s what makes us work.”
“You’re so dumb.”
“You love me.”
Hugo finally cracks a smile. “Yeah, I do.”
***
Varian had agreed to help Hugo figure out what to do after that. A sweet gesture of course, but ultimately not a helpful one considering Varian has never celebrated Mother’s Day either.
“It can’t be much different from Father’s Day, right?” He asks, absentmindedly rubbing the straps of his goggles.
“How am I supposed to know?” Hugo retorts. “I’ve never celebrated either.”
Varian pauses. “Yeah, me neither. Dad was never really into that stuff. Usually we’d just eat apple pie for dinner and call it a day.”
Suffice it to say, they’re both hopeless on their own and Mother’s Day is in three days . Good thing the peppiest princess whose favorite thing is celebrating just so happens to live in the same castle as them.
“Oh, that’s so lovely!” Rapunzel exclaims when the boys explain to her the situation. “I’d be more than happy to help.”
She gets to work immediately, dragging the two of them out to the main village where people have already begun setting things up.
“Everyone celebrates Mother’s Day differently,” Rapunzel explains as they walk. “Some people buy gifts, some plan activities, but at the end of the day it’s completely up to you. It’s a day meant to show your mom how much you appreciate everything she’s done for you.”
Hugo hums in acknowledgment as he examines the stalls lightly swinging he and Varian’s intertwined hands. “What do you usually do?”
“Glad you asked!” She claps her hands together. “I wake up before sunrise so I can get to Atilla’s and beat the morning rush. His baking is popular, but he’s especially busy during holidays, and it’s such a nightmare to wait in line. Then, when I get back to the castle with all the sweets, I go down to the kitchen and make a big breakfast for her so she can enjoy breakfast in bed.”
Hugo shrugs. “Breakfast in bed doesn’t exactly seem like Don’s thing. She doesn’t like getting pampered.”
Varian snorts. “I don’t know where you get it from, then.”
Rapunzel just smiles. “That’s okay. Like I said, everyone celebrates differently. After breakfast, my mom and I usually spend the day painting or hiking, but that also doesn’t seem to fit your guys’ dynamic.”
Hugo thinks for a moment, then shakes his head with a frown. The idea of Donella voluntarily taking a hike for fun is laughable, and she’s not artistically inclined unless she’s creating blueprints.
“Hey,” Varian squeezes his hand. “We’ll find something to do. We’ve got three days, that’s more than enough time.”
***
It’s the night before Mother’s Day, and Hugo is panicking.
What happened to more than enough time? He thinks, pacing the bedroom.
He’s such a disappointment. In three days, how had he not been able to find a singular thing to do for Donella? She’s done so much for him and he can’t even find something nice to show that he appreciates her.
It’s completely his fault, of course. He’s not into big displays of affection for anyone- Varian being the exception, as he so constantly is- and that’s all Rapunzel’s suggestions had been.
“A surprise party!”
“Spa day!”
“Dessert for dinner!”
“Ooh, you can paint a portrait of her!”
“What about flowers?”
Hugo had shot down every one of her ideas, growing more and more frustrated each time.
“What about Don says party to you?”
“She hates getting pampered.”
“You know how I’m not a fan of sweet things? She despises them.”
“She hates sitting still for too long.”
The flowers actually hadn’t been a terrible idea until she pointed to a stall selling over the top, massive flower bouquets and then he shot down that idea as well.
As much as Hugo respects the princess, he’d been ready to tear his hair out when they got back to the castle this afternoon with nothing to show for their efforts. Donella arrives tomorrow. Mother’s Day is tomorrow, and Hugo is one bad idea away from throwing something at the wall and-
Their bedroom door creaks open and Varian enters.
“Hey,” he says, softly closing it behind him. “You alright?”
Hugo huffs, reaching under his glasses to rub his eyes. “No,” he admits. “This whole thing is so stupid. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult.”
Varian makes a pitying noise as he unties his shoes and sits on their bed. He pats his lap and Hugo accepts the invitation to lie down without protest.
“It’s because you’re putting so much pressure on yourself,” he murmurs once Hugo’s head is in his lap. He gently runs his fingers through Hugo’s hair, working through the tangles.
“It’s just… so much of our relationship has been precariously balanced on this tightrope, this weird line between mentor and mother, worker and son.”
Varian hums and Hugo can hear the smile in his voice. “Precariously, huh? That’s a big word for you.”
“Shut up!” Hugo exclaims as his horrible, terrible boyfriend snickers at him.
“No, no! I’m just saying, you must be pretty proud of yourself for that one.”
“Shut up.” Hugo turns his face and hides his grin in Varian’s thigh. “Shut up, shut all the way up. I’m wallowing and you’re attacking me, you’re so terrible.”
Varian laughs, leaning down to press a kiss against Hugo’s hair. “Mm, maybe. But you feel better now, don’t you?”
Of course he does. Being with Varian always has that effect on him. But still, he sighs and turns so he’s facing his boyfriend.
“I just want to do something nice,” Hugo whispers. “I didn’t realize how much this meant to me until we couldn’t find anything she’d like. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, she’s- she’s my family. I want her to know that.”
Varian brushes a strand of hair out of Hugo’s eyes. “So tell her that.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Sweetcheeks.”
“Most of the time, yes. Perhaps not in this case.”
***
Hugo wakes up early the next day. Usually he’d stay in bed, pull Varian a little closer and listen to the sound of his steady breathing, but he’s thinking too much. He needs to get up, needs to move.
He decides to take a walk through the palace gardens.
There’s a section that’s slightly hidden a little further out, with no statues or fountains in the center. Wildflowers and ivy grow all over with no rhyme or reason. It’s not nearly as impressive as the other gardens, so people don’t often visit it. That’s why it’s Hugo’s favorite spot.
His first few months in Corona were spent frequenting this spot. Back when he didn’t quite feel like he fit in, like he didn’t deserve the good life Varian wanted to give him. Hugo would spend hours here, hidden in a sea of forget-me-nots and dandelions while he wasted the day away. Olivia joined him often, as did Varian whenever he got the chance to sneak away from his duties as the Royal Engineer. He doesn’t visit as often as he once did after he finally settled in, but it’s still his favorite place to hide when he needs to get away.
He lies down in a patch of daisies, careful not to flatten too many of them. The morning dew is cold on his neck, but he makes no move to get up.
Donella will be here in a few hours and Hugo will have nothing for her. He knows, logically, that he doesn’t have to do anything. It would be easier for everyone if he just went about his day and didn’t acknowledge the holiday at all.
The problem is that he doesn’t want to. He’s come so far in terms of more openly showing affection towards his loved ones, why should Donella be an exception? The woman who raised him, fed him, clothed him, had made him who he is now with a firm hand but a soft heart? They’ve had their fair share of disagreements, sure. And the road to fixing this hasn’t been a linear one. But at the end of the day, Donella is his mother, and dammit if he isn’t a mama’s boy at heart.
He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes. Stupid Corona. Stupid holiday, stupid Hugo with his stupid bleeding heart.
He stays like that for an indeterminate amount of time. Long enough for the morning dew to evaporate and the sun to warm up his skin. Long enough that when he finally opens his eyes, someone is standing over him.
A very familiar someone, with a scar on her cheek.
“Shit!” Hugo exclaims, scrambling to his feet. “You’re early!”
Donella’s mouth quirks up into her vision of a smile. “I’m right on time. Your boyfriend received Cyrus and I at the castle gates.”
Had he really been here that long? Hugo swallows down a bit of guilt. “Sorry,” he repeats. “How’d you know I was here?”
“Varian told me it was most likely where you’d run off to. He was right, of course.”
Hugo huffs out a small laugh. Of course. “Well, it’s good to see you.” He plasters on a smile, praying she doesn’t see through him.
It doesn’t work, because of course she sees right through him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Hugo lies. “Just didn’t get much sleep last night, don’t worry about me.”
Donella rolls her eyes. “You’ve never been able to lie to me, Hugo. Do you truly think time away from Ingvarr has been able to change that?”
This time, Hugo’s smile melts into something genuine. “No, but it’s always worth a try.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
Hugo shakes his head. “No. Me and Varian… we’re good. It’s not him.” He lowers himself back onto the ground, legs tucked under him. There’s a dandelion hiding amongst the daisies, small but not subtle. He plucks it from the ground, spinning it between his thumb and index finger.
Donella sits as well, eyes distant. They don’t say anything, sitting in mutual silence only broken by the occasional chirping of the birds above them. A gentle breeze blows by and Hugo lets his eyes flutter shut when it carries the familiar scent of Donella’s perfume with it, grounding him. When he opens his eyes again, Donella is watching him with that scrutinizing gaze of hers.
“Do you remember the first time you visited Nesdernia?” She asks.
Hugo frowns at the random question. “Uh, yeah. It was for a mission, right?”
Donella nods. “You were what, eight years old?”
“Eight and a half,” Hugo remarks, remembering how excited he was to finally be able to travel with Don and her men.
She gives him that half smile of hers again. “We had to set up temporary base in a meadow on the outskirts of the kingdom. When night fell, the men and I were ready to go. But you stopped me.”
Hugo remembers, though he’s not sure why she’s telling him this. He’d been disappointed he couldn’t go with her, but also nervous. He wanted to know she would come back.
“You stopped me at the edge of the meadow to give me a dandelion.”
Hugo looks down at the one in his hand. “A weed?”
Donella shakes her head. “Protection. You told me they represent resilience and perseverance. You didn’t outright say it, but I knew you were worried I wouldn’t come back.”
Hugo blinks rapidly because he is not about to cry right now. Nope, no thank you. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“On the contrary, it was quite thoughtful of you.” She pulls her locket out from under her shirt collar and lets the circle charm sit in her palm. “I kept it, you know.”
“What?”
Donella opens it and sure enough, a flattened dandelion lies inside. The color is a little darker than if it was still living, but it’s perfectly preserved otherwise. Hugo looks at her in awe as he fights the pressure building behind his eyes.
“That’s-“ his voice breaks and he tries to clear his throat. “Why would you keep it?”
“Did you know,” Donella closes the locket, but instead of tucking it away, she lets it dangle against her shirt. “That was the first gift I’d been given in nearly ten years?”
Hugo blinks. “No,” he whispers.
She nods. “I know. You didn’t think twice about it, you just-“ she shakes her head hard. “It was before the world- before I had hardened you. Before I made you a soldier instead of my son.”
Hugo’s breath hitches at the last word, and the tears finally spill over. “Fuck, Don.” He laughs wetly. Son. She called Hugo her son.
He reaches under his glasses in a vain attempt to wipe away his tears. After a moment, he feels a hesitant hand on his shoulder. When he looks up, Donella is staring firmly at the ground, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. He sniffles again and looks down at the dandelion in his hand.
It’s because you’re putting so much pressure on yourself.
So maybe Hugo hadn’t found the “perfect” way to show Don he appreciates her. And maybe he’s still not ready to call her mom to her face despite her calling Hugo her son. And maybe that’s okay. Maybe he doesn’t need to celebrate a whole holiday and shower her with over the top bouquets and breakfast in bed. Maybe, for now, this is enough.
Hugo leans over and rests his head on Donella’s shoulder. Delicately, he places the dandelion in her lap and pretends not to notice when her breath stutters for a moment.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” he whispers.