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littlemisslol-fic · 3 years

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Summary: Two years after the events of Barviel Keep, Varian has tried to adapt to the expectations brought by being a King’s Ward, with mixed results. Haunted by ghosts, Varian is forced to face the demons he tried to leave behind in Bayangor when his abdication is forcibly stopped by a third party, out for revenge against the Bayan Royal bloodline. On the run, with few allies left to turn to, Varian finds himself chasing a ghost through a series of tests that only a true heir of Demanitus could ever hope to pass.But the shadows are ever present, looming and dark, and not everything is as simple as it might seem.

Notes: One problem gets dealt with. Another gets worse.

The woods were quiet.

Varian scowled as he shoved at a branch, stalking down the path. The letter in his hand was nearly crumbled from how hard he was holding it, balled up tightly. He winced when he realized how it was starting to tear, finally slowing his pace.

He’d left Rapunzel and Eugene behind. Eugene had put himself between Rapunzel and Varian before she could chase after him, not that Varian had taken the time to really look. The alchemist wasn’t sure if that was a good thing- on the one hand, he definitely needed the space, but on the other he was now alone in an unfamiliar area with who knows how many Bayan operatives skulking around. He needed to slow down, get his bearings. To take a breath.

Varian sighed, stopping in a small grove in the woods. He huffed for air, wheezing at finally taking a break. He didn’t know how long he’d been running, at least half an hour, but it felt like longer. His lungs burned, even as he choked air back into his chest through gasping breaths.

Tears stung at his eyes, but he pushed them away. He’d done enough crying, by the Sun, he was sick of it. Varian rubbed at his face with his free hand, shaking his head. The sting of Rapunzel’s betrayal was still fresh, a somber pain deep in his chest that refused to leave. He couldn’t believe that Rapunzel had been hiding this the whole time, while he’d been suffering, desperate for answers after all this time, and she’d taken them from him. She, he knew, would have denied him the truth so long as he was protected, just as she let Corona burn while they ran.

Something in Varian’s stomach curdled at the thought. He wiped at his face again, ignoring how the rough fabric of his cloak rubbed at the skin. He felt stupid; in the time since he left Barviel Keep, he’d spent so long wallowing in his own misery he’d failed to see an extremely dangerous anxiety growing in Rapunzel- and now it was coming to bite him.

It was high noon, the sun weak through the clouds as it tried to break through the treeline. Varian sighed as he walked into the glen in front of him, an open, grassy space surrounding a massive, gnarled willow tree on the bank of a small creek. The alchemist kicked at the dirt under his boots, shaking his head and making his way to the base of the tree. He twisted around, gently falling back against the bark, and sliding down until he was curled at the base of the tree, nearly hidden by the massive roots poking out from the earth.

He sucked in a breath through his nose, taking a second to compose himself. He wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was- he’d never been to the Wildshore Isles, had no idea how to even get there, but it wasn’t like he’d go anywhere else. He pushed a niggling sense of doubt away, shoved it as deep into the back of his mind as he could, and looked back down to the note.

It was basic, simple parchment and elegant script in smudging ink. He read it over once more, shaking his head at the audacity of his sister hiding this from him. He couldn’t help but feel a small splash of guilt at the memory of her heartbroken face, but shoved it right next to the doubt to fester. He was making his own path now, and damn the rest of it. The brook to his left babbled quietly, a soft song that whispered through the trees. It was almost loud enough for Varian to miss the sound of twigs snapping nearby.

Almost.

Varian’s hand flew for his alchemy belt, grabbing one of his bombs. He felt himself tense, fear skuttling up his spine. Varian tightened his grip on the glass, cursing himself for stopping- stupid, stupid, he wasn’t safe here- as a familiar pair of green eyes glowed from within the darkness of the forest.

Rapunzel gasped as she burst through the trees, her hair a mess and her dress dirty. Eugene was close behind, the man obviously relaxing once he caught sight of Varian. Rapunzel moved from the forest, her eyes wide with relief. Varian let his arm drop at the sight of his sister, though the glare stayed. Rapunzel rushed to him, her dress almost a blur.

“Varian,” she sighed, putting her hands over her chest to calm her breathing. “Thank the Sun, we found you.”

Varian scowled, refusing to stand up from where he was hidden in the roots. “Yeah,” he griped, “You found me.”

She paused, stopping at the center of the glen. Her dress swished around her for a second, revealing Ruddiger at her heels. The raccoon chirped with delight at seeing his boy, the animal running along the grass to park himself in Varian’s lap. Rapunzel’s face fell when she saw that Varian was still upset, but she bit her lip and pressed forward. Typical, an angry voice in Varian’s head whispered.

“Varian I-” she cut herself off, her hands dropping to her sides. “I am so sorry.”

The boy only scowled, tears he’d just managed to brush away returning in full force. “That’s great for you,” he said, “But it doesn’t fix this. What you did- what you said.”

Rapunzel looked hurt, green eyes blinking away tears of her own. “I… I know,” she said softly. “I know, it won’t magically fix things. But please, Varian, we have to deal with this once you’re safe.”

Varian felt himself uncurl a bit, meeting her eye a little more as she went on.

“I’m sorry,” Rapunzel said, her voice thick. “Varian, really, I am. I just wanted to protect you.”

The boy scoffed, shrinking back into himself. Rapunzel seemed to notice him closing off, brazenly stepping closer. Her bare feet were silent in the grove, like a ghost. Varian felt the sudden urge to kick at her ankles when she got in range, but shoved the impulse down. Even if he were upset, it wouldn’t be right. Rapunzel sank to her knees so that they were eye to eye. Varian was struck by a feeling of familiarity, of the two of them hiding away in the depths of Corona Castle together, the chill of the earth easy to mistake as the cool touch of polished tile. He shook himself, trying to cling to the feeling of bitterness in him- lest he sink back into the terrified apathy he’d been in since the beginning of his birthday.

Varian moved back when she reached for him. Rapunzel shook her head, trying again and succeeding in taking his hand the second time.

“We need to keep moving.” She sounded close to begging. “Even if-” A heavy sigh, “Even if that means going to the Wildshore Isles, like you want.”

Varian’s head snapped up, eyes widening. “You mean…” he trailed off, unbelieving. Rapunzel nodded, the motioning seeming to pain her. Eugene’s face broke into a small smile behind her, obviously approving.

“If you’re sureyou want to chase this, then that’s where we’ll go,” she said.

Varian felt his lungs twist, the boy sniffling. “I want to,” he said it hesitantly, like he was afraid to say so. “I need… even if she’s just as bad, she might be all that’s left. I need to know. I want that closure.”

Rapunzel winced when he said so, but didn’t argue. Eugene stepped up then, putting a hand on her shoulder and offering the other to Varian.

“Alright kids,” Eugene said, “Glad we got to kiss and make up, but we really should be taking this show on the road.”

Varian huffed, taking his hand and letting Eugene pull him to his feet. Rapunzel followed, wiping at her eyes. The boy shifted from her grip, keeping Eugene between them for now. Varian couldn’t help but still want distance from her, the sting still fresh even with the apology, but it was when he shifted to the side, he saw something move in the woods beyond.

“Look out!” he screamed, shoving Rapunzel roughly to the side. Varian toppled as well, landing a bit to the left. She yelped as she hit the dirt, but the noise wasn’t enough to cover up the loud thwack of a blade embedding itself into the bark of the tree. Eugene let out a shocked shout, the knife having missed him by a hair. All three of them snapped their heads towards the woods, eyes widening in shock as Cerise stood from a lunge, her hand outstretched from throwing the blade.

“Shit.” she sighed. “Must be rusty. Oh well.” She reached behind her, bringing her halberd out from its place on her back. Varian’s heart sank at the heavy thudit made as she settled it in the dirt. Cerise grinned, rolling her shoulders casually as she fixed them with a smug look.

“Who’s ready for round two?”

There was a split second of silence, the four of them staring at each other, waiting for the other side to make a move. Rapunzel had her frying pan ready at her side, Eugene had his sword. Varian’s glove tightened around his last bomb- he couldn’t help but feel underprepared for a fight. The silence stretched, thick like molasses; Varian started to worry no one would ever make the first move.

But Cerise, it seemed, was out of patience.

With a small cry of exertion she ripped the halberd from the ground, running toward the Coronians. Eugene let out a startled noise, moving himself between her and his prone charges. Varian scrambled to his feet, a hand already on his alchemy belt, and looked over just in time to see Cerise stab the axe end of her halberd into the earth, using the momentum of her run to use it almost like a pole vault. She launched herself into the air, her cloak flaring out behind her like bat’s wings that blocked out the sun for a quick second, before landing both feet on Eugene’s shoulders, the man yelping as she used him as a jumping point. Her grip on the halberd never faltered, dragging it behind her as he sprung into the air.

He hit the ground with an oof, knocked to the dirt from the force of her jump. She landed in front of Rapunzel and Varian in a crouch, taking a second to blow a wayward piece of hair from her face. When she stood, Varian felt himself tense. Cerise stood, shifting her weight once onto her heels with a little bounce.

With that, she swung the halberd around, sending Varian backpedaling with a yelp. Rapunzel shot to her feet at long last, only to be smacked to the side by the blunt edge of the axe. She shrieked as she was batted away, being thrown a good few feet and back into the dirt. Ruddiger screeched, disappearing into the treeline, knowing better than to stick around.

Varian winced, his hand tightening on his final goo bomb. He chanced a wide-eyed look up to Cerise, who seemed to be over even trying to play around at this point, and threw the bomb. The Bayan woman seemed to have figured out his tricks, however, and it too was swatted away by the halberd, launching it to the side and- Varian noticed with a grimace- hitting Eugene head on, trapping the man flat on his back with the sticky chemical.

Eugene let out an indignant cry at that, something about his hair and dirt, but Varian was too busy being forced to duck as the halberd, now with the blade pointed towards him, was swung back around. He hit the dirt with a gasp, curling into himself as the blade embedded itself in the tree trunk behind him.

Varian heard Cerise snarl, something in a language he’d never spoken, and took the chance to push himself off the ground and around her, dodging a grab when he did so. He ran to Rapunzel first, trying to pull her to her feet. She shoved him back gently, shaking her head.

“GO!” She screamed at him, her voice echoing. “We’ll handle this, just go!”

Varian stumbled back, his gaze flicking between Rapunzel and where Cerise was pulling at her halberd in an attempt to get it unstuck. “I can’t just-” he started to say, only for Eugene to butt in from behind.

“Kid, we love you, but get outta here!”

That was enough to get Varian moving again, shoving a vial into Rapunzel’s hands. It was neutralizing agent, which he was confident she knew, and took the second to look at her. She caught his eye, getting to her feet and shaking herself.

“We’ll find you once this is done.” Rapunzel muttered, running past him to get to Eugene. Varian didn’t take the second to think, his feet moving without thought. The treeline opened up around him, the boy sprinting for the brook without thought. At least if he followed the water he’d be able to find his way back.

Varian sprinted along the bank of the river, his boots sinking into the damn earth and causing him to stumble a few times. He cursed when he nearly twisted an ankle, only just catching himself on a knee before pushing his weary bones back into a run. His lungs burned, his tired legs pumping as hard as he could force them. He was exhausted, from the run earlier in the afternoon but also just from the past week in general- Varian forced air down in a gasp, nearly tripping again and sliding in the mud.

The ground began to rise in front of him, turning into something of a ramp taking him up, up, up and into a gorge. Before he realized it, Varian found himself on a high footpath along the stone wall, the creek having turned into a rushing river nearly forty meters below. Varian shuddered when he caught sight of how far up he’d managed to run, forcing himself to pay attention to the thin path in front of him.

He felt like a coward for running, but at the same time he knew Rapunzel and Eugene were right on this one. It was wise to get Cerise’s target away from her and give the heavier hitters have more space to work. It was smarter, sure, but as he felt his body slow from the exhaustion creeping in, his stomach churned. What if his family got hurt, and he wasn’t there? He had full confidence that Rapunzel and Eugene could take their Bayan opponent, but she was still formidable enough, and it was obvious that Cerise had started to learn their tricks.

He slowed to a walk, gasping for breath through his aching lungs. His legs hurt, mostly around the knees and ankles after the rough week. He wiped sweat from his face, trying in vain to rub the salt from his eyes. His ears perked up at the sound of moving stones from the path, the snapping of twigs. He listened, trying to pinpoint the noise, and tensing when he realized what hey were.

Footsteps.

He turned around, looking down the path he’d come from, foolishly hoping to see Rapunzel or Eugene coming up behind him, but only groaned when he caught sight of black hair. Of course.

“You’ve gotta- ugh- gotta be kidding me,” he sighed in between panting breaths.

Cerise seemed to have lost her halberd somewhere along the line. Her hair was a frazzled mess, and she had a horrible bruise started on the side of her face. She caught sight of Varian, and seemed to run even faster- Varian stepped back with a yelp, already turning to run farther down the path. She must have seen him following the river, of course.

“Get back here you little shit!” He heard the Bayan woman scream at him, sounding nearly feral with rage as he ran. She also sounded much closer than he thought she was, and he spurred his aching legs to work double time.

The canyon around him was becoming taller by the second, covered in thick foliage, creeping ivy and stubborn trees, and far below the river grew more and more violent. Up ahead was a fallen tree trunk, the thick column spanning across the cliffs and creating a bridge of sorts. It was wrapped in ivy and vines, grown over with foliage. Varian’s heart sank when he saw it, knowing exactly what it was.

An opportunity.

If he could just get across before her, find a way to dislodge it- he’d have time to get back to Rapunzel and Eugene before Cerise could make it around the gorge. He groaned, forcing himself to run faster toward it. Stones clattered when he ran by, dropping the long fall into the water below. He tried to ignore how long it took for them to hit the ground.

Gods, this is the worst, he thought to himself, the absolute worst.

The log drew close; Varian didn’t bother to stop before he jumped up onto it. He grit his teeth as it wobbled under him, rolling nauseatingly to the side a bit before settling back in its place. He threw his hands out to either side, his balance absolute crap as he took the first few shaky steps on the bark.

It was about ten meters to the other side. Varian shuddered when the wind blew past him, making his footwork falter in a way that sent his heart into his throat. He chanced a look down, tensing up and nearly screaming at the sight of the drop below. The log gave a sickening creak, rocking in place again.

Varian was forced to windmill his arms to keep balanced, stopping so that he could regain balance. Bile rose as the log settled, but he choked it down.

“Don’t look down,” he muttered, “Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t look down-”

He looked down.

The makeshift bridge shuddered again. Varian chanced a look behind him, and saw Cerise step up and onto his little platform. Shit. The alchemist was only halfway across. Cerise was still for a second, seeming to gauge how good of an idea stepping fully off solid earth was, before looking up at him with a scowl.

“Are we really going to play this game?” she asked, “This seems like a hell of a gamble, crow.”

The log swayed again, but Varian stood his ground.

“Worth a shot,” he replied, already cautiously taking a step backward, never breaking eye contact with her. Cerise responded by taking another step, mirroring his movements. They went like that, back and forth, until she was fully onto the log and over the gaping maw of the gorge. She was putting up a brave front, but Varian could see a tenseness of her shoulders and the way her eyes darted between him and the drop below them both.

They reached another stalemate, both of them waiting for the other to make a move. Varian knew she wasn’t out to kill him- she’d had enough chances to murder him and every time she’d aimed to get him back to Corona, just like her brother. Why they wanted him alive, Varian didn’t know, but he was willing to bet it was important enough to keep her from sending them both down to a watery grave.

He wasn’t sure what to do, barely able to think over his racing heart- he’d wanted to knock the log away after crossing but Varian wasn’t sure if he was capable of doing so while someone, even someone out to hurt him, stood on it. The log wobbled under him again; both of them swayed a bit to keep their balance. The wood under them let out a terrifying groan, and began to shake.

Varian hissed when the shaking didn’t stop, and with horror he looked behind himself to where their bridge was connected to the stone. With a sinking feeling he saw the ivy begin to snap, and the whole structure begin to slide.

“Oh no,” he gasped, stepping back. Cerise looked around him, her stance going horrified when the log slipped down a level, jostling them both.

”Shit!” she yelped, ducking down on her knees to grab at the log with her hands. Varian mirrored her, lost as to what to do, trying to slowly scramble toward her- he had to get the hell off this thing before-

Snap.

Varian shrieked as the one end of the log dropped, sending their bridge pointing directly down into the chasm. He felt his stomach swoop out from under him as his side of the log fell, swinging like the worst pendulum in the history of man. He clung to the bark with all the strength left in him, his aching fingers surely bloody with how tightly he was clinging.

Cerise wasn’t faring much better, having slipped a bit down the log until catching a foothold closer to Varian. He could see the way she gnashed her teeth against the pain. The log swayed, held up only by a series of clinging vines and a dash of terrified prayers.

Varian was the first to move, raising a shaking hand up to grab onto a branch above him. He managed to snag it, hesitantly pulling himself up a little more. Cerise seemed to get what his plan was, the woman spitting out a curse. Varian flinched when she too grabbed another branch, reaching into her boot with her free hand.

His heart sank as she pulled out a small dagger from her boot, the metal shining in the weak sun.

He nearly fell when she swiped at him, forcing Varian to grab onto another branch. His sweaty hands almost slipped, his gloves the only thing keeping his grip on the rotting bark of the tree. Another gust of wind sent them spinning, their log twisting and swinging in a way that made Varian motion sick. Cerise seemed unaffected as she took another swing with the dagger, narrowly missing as Varian shuffled his way onto another branch. Her blade sliced through a vine cleanly, causing it to fall away from the tree.

He chanced a look behind him, seeing the insane glint in her eye. A line of ruby red blood dripped from her temple down into her eye, coating nearly half her face and pasting whisps of hair to her face.

“I’m donewith this,” she snarled, moving after him like a hunter after prey. She took another swing when she was close enough, the blade of the knife catching Varian’s arm. He shouted at the burning pain of the slice as it cut cleanly through Quirin’s cloak and into his skin, but the cry was cut off as he saw her knife go through another vine.

The tree gave an unhappy groan, sinking a bit. Varian felt ice cold fear creep up his spine, looking up towards where the other vines were keeping them attached to the cliff were taut and strained with the weight.

“Stop,” his breath was a whisper, choked as he tried to push air past the knot in his throat. “Stop!”

Cerise raised her blade high, either unaware or uncaring of what he was saying. Varian scrambled for a higher foothold, grabbing a branch higher up and tucking his knees up against his chest to keep the blade from him. The cut in his arm burned, his fingers ached, but all of that faded to the sound of another swishof a vine being cut.

“You’re going to kill us!” he gasped, scrambling higher along the tree. Cerise followed, snarling like a beast. Varian felt another cut, this time on his leg, and screamed again. He kicked at the woman, wincing when his boot connected with her nose. She fell away with a yowl, catching herself on her branch as she held her nose. Her knife dropped, disappearing quickly into the water forty feet below. Varian took the chance, moving away while she was distracted.

He was close to the top when he heard another long groan from the log, followed by a small snap. Blue eyes widened in horror when he saw another vine give way, not cut, but snapped under the pressure of holding them up over the long drop. He watched with terror as the vine fell, following Cerise’s knife in dropping into the raging water.

Varian scrambled for the top safety and caution thrown to the wind, just wanting to get out. He was nearly to the top when he felt a hand grab at his boot. Blue eyes frantically looked down, seeing Cerise clinging to his ankle with a steel grip.

He swung his foot again; Cerise let go to avoid another kick to the face. Varian pulled himself up another foot- the edge of the cliff was right there- and managed to get a hand on the uppermost branch of the tree when another vine snapped.

Varian grabbed hold of the rockface, the breath in him leaving with a huff of relief as he finally grabbed something solid. Another vine let go with a horrifying groan; the tree began to slip, falling a good few feet down. Varian felt a pulse of terror at that, his feet leaving the wood as the tree dropped away from under him. The tree swung away, spinning once more as a few more vines let go.

Varian twisted to look down, swallowing bile at the sight of the drop. He caught site of glowing green eyes through the foliage of the tree, wide and furious. Before he could think, Varian was reaching down with his free hand, his shoulders straining and his feet digging into the stone wall.

“It’s going to fall!” he screamed, stretching as far as he could push himself. Even if she was out to kill him, she was still a person-

Another vine snapped.

And the tree dropped.

Varian shrieked as the broken vine smacked his hand, hard enough to surely bruise. He winced and drew his hand back, eyes slamming shut against the pain. In that split second things were nearly silent, save for a small whoosh but then- with a noise like snapping bone- a massive crack of wood against stone.

When he opened his eyes again, the tree was shattered against the rocks. Wood splinters littered the water, which had turned a sickening red; the colour spread like an illness, changing white and blue to ruby without preamble.

Varian was unable to tear his eyes away, scanning the wreckage for any sight of Cerise. She’d just- not even a scream- dropped like a stone-

Varian felt his chest hitch roughly as a body floated to the surface. His heart stopped. The boy’s arms were shaking not from exertion, but from primal horror. He watched Cerise’s corpse float a few feet from the wreckage of the tree, coming to rest on the bank. Blood, fresh and deep red, flowed freely along the water, staining the white sand crimson.

The alchemist bit at his lip, forcing himself to turn away. He bullied his aching arms to pull himself up and over the edge of the cliff, the wave of panic only just slowing when he had solid ground under him. He lay flat on his stomach for a second, forcing himself to breathe his way through the adrenaline rushing through his system.

He trembled, rolling onto his hands and knees, unable to shake the image of the corpse below from his mind. He retched, though nothing came up from his empty stomach. His whole body shook violently, harsh tremors that rattled his entire frame. She was dead, and he was to blame for it. He’d killed a second person.

The river below continued to rush by, loud in the deathly silence that surrounded him. Varian’s trembling fingers gripped the stones under him, a tight hold that surely turned his knuckles white under the gloves. The shock of it was immense, a wave of terror that refused to abate no matter how long it had been since the danger had passed-

“Varian!”

Eugene.

Varian didn’t look up at the familiar voice, his eyes locked onto the dirt. He didn’t move when hands fell on his shoulders, shaking him lightly, nor when Eugene’s voice grew more frantic. Varian felt like he was underwater, the noise around him filtering away and the world smudging- everything spun, his soupy thoughts unable to make connections with anything. His head nodded a bit… oh, Eugene was shaking him. Varian blinked slowly, looking up to the man with a blank face. Eugene’s face was pale, obviously shaken. He said something, but the words filtered through Varian’s mind without sticking.

The boy focused on the direct center of Eugene’s face, not registering. The man shook him again, slightly rougher, but still Varian did not respond. Something in him couldn’t, wouldn’t; if he opened his mouth, he’d surely vomit. His stomach rolled again, but Varian forced it down- Eugene surely wouldn’t appreciate sick on his jacket.

The man finally seemed to give up, releasing Varian and pushing to his feet to peer over the edge. Eugene made a disgusted noise when he saw the corpse Varian had put there. The boy gagged again at the thought, spitting into the soil to rid his mouth of the foul taste.

Eugene moved back to the boy, spreading a hand in between his shoulders in a move that was probably supposed to be comforting.

“Varian,” he said, soothing, “Buddy, we should go. This isn’t a good place to be.”

The boy shuddered, shaking his head. His knees were like jelly, trembling and weak; if he weren’t already kneeling, they’d surely give out from under him. Varian spat the taste of bile from his mouth.

Eugene was in front of him again, his voice swimming in and out of comprehension.

“-go, get away-”

“-Rapunzel-”

“-Varian.”

That caught his attention.

Varian forced his eyes up from looking at the dirt, blinking dazedly as Eugene’s hands came back to rest on his shoulders. The man seemed disturbed, eyes wide and frantic. The man shook him gently, but Varian still didn’t reply. Eugene switched tactics, holding his arms out and wrapping Varian in a gentle hug, his movements slow, like he was approaching a spooked animal. When the alchemist didn’t pull away, he tugged the boy closer, holding him tightly.

Varian forced a hand away from the dirt, grabbing onto Eugene’s coat with a sudden purpose. His fingers dug into the fabric of the jacket, a vice grip that trembled as Varian sank into the man’s hold with a sob.

“Oh, shit, hey kid,” Eugene murmured, “You’re okay, it’s over.”

Varian could feel hot tears trailing down his face, the adrenaline and fear leaving his body and leaving only a hollow feeling. He gasped for air, burying his face into the front of Eugene’s jacket and refusing to look up. Varian felt arms wrap around him, supporting and calm.

“Let it out, bud.” Eugene murmured, placating.

Varian barely registered when Eugene scooped him up off the ground. If it were any other time he’d be surprised- Varian may be short but he didn’t think he was that light- but for now he only felt a strange numbness. It was similar to how he’d felt after Barviel Keep, but less intense.

Less biting.

He buried his face into his friend’s chest, letting himself be carried for a while. It felt… nice, to be honest, to be wrapped up and held tightly, to not have to think, to run, to work. Thick arms around him, ones he knew wouldn’t let him fall, safe and warm. Varian’s breathing began to even out, shuddering gasps relaxing into deep sniffles.

He drifted, adrenaline leaving as quickly as it had come. Varian shuddered, pressing closer into Eugene’s shoulder. He didn’t notice as the scenery changed, the cliffs disappearing and slowly filtering back into forest, only to thin once more. The sound of waves were audible, a gentle lap that was in sync with the rocking of Eugene’s footsteps. Varian kept his eyes closed, letting his shaking hands relax from their death grip on his friend’s shirt.

He was nearly asleep when Eugene stopped.

Varian cracked his eye open, wincing at the bright sun. They were out of the forest, on a sandy beach. There was a large body of water in front of them, one that Varian knew eventually connected to Corona’s bay. He sniffed again, the fresh air helping to clear his head. Eugene’s arms hugged him a little tighter, not constricting, but solid.

“Rapunzel?” he called down the shoreline, and his grip on Varian tightened marginally when the boy tensed up at the name. Varian shifted, moving to look down the sand. He blinked away the sunlight, noticing an approaching figure.

“Eugene,” Rapunzel’s voice filtered through the buzzing in his skull. “Varian! Thank the Sun, you’re okay!”

“We’re fine,” Eugene soothed. Rapunzel’s figure came closer, her hands lifting up towards Varian’s face only to stop when the boy flinched away. Varian began to squirm, pushing at Eugene until the man set him down on wobbly legs.

“Sure,” he sighed, “Fine. Let’s go with that.”

Rapunzel was pale, frazzled. Her arm was still covered in blood, ruby red; Varian shuddered at the sight of it. He stumbled a little when his feet hit the sand, boots sinking into the earth. Something in him felt almost numb. Cold.

“Is she still following you?” Rapunzel asked, clearly talking about Cerise. Eugene grimaced, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“She’s dead,” Varian said bluntly. Rapunzel blinked, rapid and confused, but when Eugene nodded, she turned her focus back to Varian. The alchemist refused to meet her eye, instead turning out to watch the waves.

“It was an accident.”

Eugene, ever the mediator. Varian slowly blinked as the waves continued to pound at the sand, pushing and pulling with the tide. The water rushed over the tips of his shoes before receding, a hypnotic ebb and flow. The numbness in him did the same, slowly washing over the remaining horror. The noise of his friends faded away, taken out with the tide. Little bubbles crept up from under his sinking boots; he wondered if he stood here long enough if he’d disappear completely beneath the waves.

“Varian?”

Varian looked up at his friends, finding them both looking at him. Eugene rolled his shoulders casually, before clapping his hands together.

“Well, goggles,” he said with a false cheer, “This is your circus, what’s the plan?”

Rapunzel’s face soured, but Varian elected to ignore it. She could be upset if she wanted; he knew what he had to do, with or without her. Varian pulled Aisha’s note from his pocket, looking down at it once more. He nodded once, more an assurance to himself than anything, before looking back to his friends. A tentative grin crossed his face, weak but obvious.

“We’re going to need a boat.”

>>>><<<<

When Arianna heard Merrick scream, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

The war room, the same one that had been in use by the Bayans since the start of this whole thing, echoed with the wail. All heads snapped towards the front of the table, Coronian and Bayan alike. Merrick’s lieutenants, a group of men and women about the same ages as Rapunzel and Eugene, all looked to their leader in concern as he doubled over, the scream ripped from his chest in animalistic agony.

Arianna watched in unsettled curiosity as Merrick dropped like a stone, his metal hand catching the edge of the wooden table. The two Bayans closest to their leader stood to help him, but stopped when the shriek cut off with a terrifying silence. All Arianna could see was Merrick’s metal limb clutching the table, the grip tightening with every second until the wood finally gave way. Metal claws sank into the softer surface before finally tearing a fistful of oak from the edge, as easy as one would a handful of snow.

She could hear clicking gears and whining steam- a spark of something fizzled through the air. Arianna didn’t seem to be the only one perturbed by the sudden change, everyone in the room holding their breath as Merrick pushed himself to his feet. The queen shuddered, forcing herself to maintain a blank look on her face even as a cold feeling sank into her stomach.

Merrick had gone pale, a sickening white pallor crossing his face with reckless abandon. His eyes were wide, bloodshot; his chest heaved as if he’d just run a marathon. He pressed both palms to the table, slumping over it with tenseness in both shoulder and spine.

There was a brief second of tense hesitation, no one in the room willing to make a move, until one lieutenant got brave.

“S-sir?” her voice shattered the silence, leaving the air oddly empty save for Merrick’s still heaving breaths. “Sir, are you alright?”

Merrick’s wild eyes snapped from the table up to her, the blonde woman shrinking in her chair at the manic grimace that crossed his face.

“Cer- the general,” his voice actually broke; the room’s atmosphere seemed to break with it. “She- I felt her-”

“Sir?”

Arianna watched that metal hand grab into the table again, Merrick sucking in a deep breath through his nose. He pushed himself upward again, forcing his gaze forward. Arianna noted, from her place to his left, that his eyes were strangely bloodshot and red. Almost like-

“Our general is dead,” he said bluntly, loud and strong and oh no, Arianna recognized that voice. She’d heard it from Fred, from Rapunzel, from Eugene, seven hells she’d even used it herself; it was the sound of someone trying to be strong in the face of tragedy. Someone pushing down tears to seem infallible to the people under their command. Arianna was grateful for the lieutenants all exploding into a cacophony of questions, demanding to know what he meant, the noise covering her own shock.

Merrick sucked in another breath, and held up his metal hand. The room went deadly silent.

“We can only assume she found the crow-” The words rang out, accusatory. Arianna caught a few of the Bayans flinch at that; one lieutenant covered his mouth with a hand. “-and that she wasn’t able to best all three of them.” Merrick paused then, swallowing thickly. “She is- was, a brilliant general. One of the best. She will be remembered in the light of the new Bayangor, just as any of us will be.”

Arianna felt sick- she couldn’t see her children murdering the woman, but Merrick certainly seemed convinced she was gone. The queen couldn’t help but think back to Varian, just a child, in a mechanical monster, grabbing at her, crushing her, blinded by rage-

“This meeting is over.” Merrick’s voice snapped her from the memories. “I… I have to think over our next steps.”

Arianna had never seen a room empty so quickly. One of the Bayans, the one who had asked when Merrick had fallen, took a second to approach her leader, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. Merrick caught her eye, nodding to her. She patted his shoulder once before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

The room was quiet, save for Merrick’s thick breaths. It was just Arianna, Frederick (or what was left of him in the obedient shell that he currently was), and the Bayan man who had done nothing but cause them misery. Once his underlings had left, Merrick slumped like a corpse, falling back into his chair without any of his usual bravado.

Everything was still.

Until it wasn’t.

Merrick began to shake his head, quietly mumbling to himself. He wiped at his face with hands on flesh and metal, pushing and pulling at his skin in rough movements. Arianna tried to ignore the small sliver of pity in her heart at the sight of tears in his eyes. Suddenly the person in front of her didn’t seem like a brutal separatist who had attacked her home and family- if Arianna didn’t know better, Merrick almost reminded her of Varian, right after he’d lost Quirin for a second time. A young man, barely into adulthood, in mourning.

The Bayan in the chair shuddered, his shoulders shaking with some kind of emotion. He brought his knees up to his chest, shrinking into himself- and he truly did seem small. Merrick brought a shaking hand- the human one- up into the air, quietly drawing the shape of some kind of rune into the air. Where his finger traced, he left a small flaming line, as if drawing with chalk on a board. When he was done, Merrick leaned back, curling tighter into the chair.

“S-show me,” his voice cracked with the command. The pity in Arianna’s gut began to grow at the absolutely devastated look on her enemy’s face. Merrick didn’t even seem to notice she and Frederic were still in the room with him, instead looking at the rune a little more intently. “Show me!” he snapped, waving his hand in a rough motion.

The rune gently spun in the air, flat like a disk, until an image began to appear in the very center. Arianna couldn’t help but feel fascinated by the casual show of magic; Corona had always been less inclined towards the arcane arts, so she couldn’t help but marvel at the spectacle.

The image solidified.

The first thing Arianna saw was Varian. Her heart stopped at the sight of him, bloodied and bruised and filthy but alive, a hand splayed out towards the viewer. Varian looked terrified, pale and wild. The image moved, almost like it was from the point of view from someone- Cerise, if Arianna were to take an educated guess- dropping down from what looked like a cliff.

Merrick watched with focused eyes, scanning the image as it ran through. Varian’s mouth opened in a silent scream, and the image began to shake and twist in a disorientating way. The last thing it showed was the rock face rushing past, a river drawing close at an alarming rate- Cerise was falling- before suddenly going black.

Merrick flinched when it did. The Bayan huddled tighter as they watched what must have been his sister’s final moments, from her eyes. He waved a hand again, reversing the images until they were back at the top of the cliff, Varian scrambling to safety and kicking at Cerise to keep her from grabbing him. Merrick made a growling noise when the boy’s boot slammed into her face, the vision snapping to the side with Cerise’s head.

Arianna focused mostly on her boy- Varian looked rough, and where was Rapunzel? And Eugene? The fact that it was just Varian holding his own made her concerned over her daughter and son in law, a wave of dread coming over her at only seeing one of her children safe-if-not-sound.

Merrick waved his hand again, pausing the image. He had stopped it on a view of Varian’s face, scrunched up in anger as he kicked at Cerise. Merrick stood from his chair, leaning forward.

“He killed her,” the Bayan breathed into the silence of the room. Arianna paused her own thoughts, turning attention to Merrick as he leaned closer and closer to the image of Varian’s face. Something furious took over his face, locking eyes with the still image of Varian. “He killed her.”

Arianna felt her heart stop.

Merrick leaned into the table again, palms down once more, but this time was different. Where before he had been shaking in misery, now… now it was very obviously rage. Arianna jumped as a nearby candle’s flame burst, the fire growing to five times its original size. A quick glace showed all the candles in the room growing, the flames rising towards the ceiling. Nearby, one of the bayan banners lit up as well. Arianna could feel the heat on her face, silently counting down until the moment she’d have to give up her ruse and run for her own safety.

The nearby hearth, once only embers, was spilling out from the stone, eating at the wooden mantle and floors, singing everything nearby. Merrick hunched over, jerky and uncoordinated, before letting out a guttural shout of pure, feral rage. He brought his arms up, swiping at the table in front of him and sending the contents scattering, papers, pens, and inkwells flying across the room.

The flames grew, wild and uncontrollable- like an animal prowling through the air. Merrick’s shout cut off into a snarl, the man slamming his hands onto the table with a loud BANG and the fire around them growing even higher. He seemed to be scanning the image of Varian, searching for something. His eye seemed to catch something, leaning closer.

“Oh,” his voice was deceptively small. “Oh, I see your game, crow.” He nodded to himself, and Arianna heaved a sigh of relief as the fires all puttered out, trails of smoke floating through the air.

Merrick pushed himself from the table, walking toward the door his lieutenants had left from. Though Arianna ached to follow, she kept herself still as he kicked the door open. She caught site of the Bayans, the group waiting outside. Merrick paused when he saw all of them waiting, but the queen watched the façade spring back up in the way he threw his arms wide.

“Time to pack your shit,” Merrick declared, “We’ve got our heading.” The Bayans cheered at the declaration. Merrick’s arms dropped, the man making his way from the room and into the hallway beyond. The meeting room was plunged into a silent darkness, the fires snuffed out and filling the space with hazy smoke. It was a false peace, like the eye of a hurricane.

Arianna couldn’t get her hands to stop shaking.

#Varian #Tangled the Series #fic #tts

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littlemisslol-fic · 3 years

Text

Notes: We've reached our destination! But things are never quite that simple.

The open sea was miserable.

The boat Rapunzel had bought (and yes, bought, seeing as the last boat she’d rented had wound up burning with Barviel Keep) gently rocked from side to side, the ocean spray bursting up over the side. The boat was named Oracle, a nice enough little sailboat with a small underside and a deck painted bright blue. She was sturdy, reliable ship, one that had carried them across the sea, directly toward the Wildshore Isle.

Varian sat on a crate that had been left on the deck, wincing as Eugene slowly worked on stitching up his arm. The boy was tense as a bowstring, trying to put on a brave face. The man noticed him pulling a face, and smiled in sympathy.

“C’mon goggles,” he said, pulling the needle through the cut Cerise had left. “You’ll be fine, everyone needs a few good scars. Makes for a conversation!”

Varian tried to smile, but it came out a grimace. The feeling of being sewn back together, while not unfamiliar after so many lab accidents, was unpleasant to say the least. He winced when Eugene pulled tight, his bare fingers tight against the wood of the crate. Varian flinched as the ache flared with every stitch, a burning fire he forced himself to sit through.

“Almost done,” Eugene soothed, his movements oddly quiet and methodical. There was a bottle of sterilizing alcohol next to him; Varian had already been subjected to that particular joy already. He winced at the feeling of another tug in the skin.

“Can we be done sooner?” Varian couldn’t help but ask. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Eugene made another loop with the thread, but a grounding hand on his shoulder kept him from moving.

“Just have to tie off, kid.”

Varian finally relaxed at the quiet snip of scissors. He risked a peek down, ignoring the small roll of his stomach at the sight of blood. Eugene had done good work, the stitches clean and even along the two-inch line of the wound.

“See?” Eugene asked, “There. Now you’re gunna want to keep it clean, and don’t go getting into any more knife fights for at least a week, young man. And next time you get hurt, please actually tell me before it’s been sitting for three days.” He tossed Varian his shirt, the boy pulling it over his head with a laugh.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Varian agreed, “No knife fights, got it.”

The Oraclerocked again, a little more noticeable this time, and Rapunzel’s voice drifted down the ship from the bow.

“Guys! We’re here!”

Varian and Eugene paused, looking at each other briefly before going to join her at the steering wheel of their little ship. The wheel was on its own level, up higher than the rest of the deck, so Varian had to struggle up a ladder to stand next to her. Eugene, bless him, didn’t comment, instead opting to lean against the wall and save the boy’s ego as he tried to climb the ladder with only one arm. Eventually he got there, trying to ignore the way Eugene scaled the ladder with a natural ease. Varian pouted, his gaze shifting toward where Rapunzel was pointing.

Sure enough there was a large island in front of them, covered in trees. It was easily the size of Corona’s own capitol island, if not less habituated. Varian could see, even from the boat, a long expanse of soft beaches and rolling waves, the bright sun catching the water in a way that nearly bided him. Rapunzel gestured a little down the shoreline, where a small village was embedded into the lush forest and spilled out into the beach.

“I think there is a good place to start,” she said, looking to the boys for any argument. When she didn’t get one, she turned the wheel, altering the Oracle into a gentle turn. The sail caught a little more wind, the ship cutting through the water at a brisk pace.

Varian watched the scenery go by, the thick trees and dense foliage of the woods making it nearly impossible to see through. He caught sight of people on the beaches, going about their daily business- a few fishermen throwing nets, children running up and down the shore, a few people doing their laundry in a pool of water, it all seemed peaceful enough.

A perfect place for his mother to hide.

He felt the nerves beginning to creep up as the village got closer. If this was where his mother had been hiding, she’d certainly picked a great place. Quiet, out of the way, unassuming, it was a perfect place to lay low and keep your head down. And if she were here… what did that mean, really?

They’d been on the Oracle for three days. Varian had spent all that time so focused on finding Aisha that he hadn’t really contemplated what he would do once he finally did. And now that it was right in front of him, the very real possibility that today could be the day…

Something in him wanted to run from this, too.

What would she even be like? Ever since Bayangor Varian had always felt trapped between the two ghosts Aisha had left in his life; the first was the loving mother, the one who had run from an abusive house and left Varian in the arms of a man she knew would raise and love him… the second was the one he’d seen in the hall of portraits, a warrior queen, the conqueror of lands, the woman who had left villages smouldering ruins. Demanitus’ heir, Aldred’s bride.

A queen of blood and ash.

These two impressions had sat next to each other on a shelf in Varian’s mind for years. He knew which one he wanted to be real, but he never knew for sure which one was right. He never knew how to feel about the idea that she’d been… well she’d been just as bad as Aldred, thanks Rapunzel. It was all skewed, everything he’d ever heard about her. Quirin wouldn’t have told Varian about the worse aspects of his mother- but nor would Aldred have mentioned her better parts. All Varian was left with was two extremes on the spectrum, and it made him feel disconnected to her in a way that ached.

He knew the truth must lay somewhere between these two images. A history of evil didn’t an irredeemable person make, as Varian would know, nor did one good turn make someone a saint. Varian wasn’t sure how to parcel the two versions into one person, into one image in his mind. He, at the end of the day, had no idea what she was really like, if the image in his head was even close to who he might be meeting on the isle.

It made him nervous, the idea that today might be the day he’d finally get to see that image, meet her. A million thoughts raced through his head, countless avenues and ideas that he could barely keep track of without getting a headache. His stomach was filled with nerves, twisting and churning until he felt sick.

Varian startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He turned around to lock eyes with Eugene, the man smiling sympathetically. Varian realized he must have had more of his emotions showing on his face than he thought, and forced himself to return the grin. Eugene didn’t seem to buy it, patting him on the shoulder.

“You’ve got this, kid,” Eugene said brightly, “We’ll find her.”

Varian’s smile fell. “I’m nervous,” he admitted, “It’s been almost twenty years… would she even recognize me?”

“Well, you can tell a lot by looking at a man's eyes,” Eugene said. His voice was distant, quieter. “I’m sure your mother will know you once she gets a good look at you.”

“My parents recognized me,” Rapunzel added. The way she kept her distance made Varian’s heart pang, but he knew he still wasn’t ready for her to act like things were normal again. Rapunzel seemed to know this, focusing instead on the sea in front of them. “And Edmund knew Eugene.” Her face was carefully blank, controlled. Flat. “It’ll be alright.”

Varian bit his lip, looking out over the water. The nerves hadn’t died, but he shoved them down deep enough that he could ignore them for the time being. Varian’s hands tensed on the railing of the ship, watching the village growing larger on the horizon. If his mother were there, after all this time, he’d finally know her as she was, not how others saw her. He grit his teeth, shaking the whirling thoughts from his mind.

He had so many questions.

>>>><<<<

The village was… cute. The Wildshore Isles were small, barely even a speck on the map, and the capitol, the itty-bitty village of Harling, reflected that. It was even smaller than Pincosta- hell, from Varian’s point of view it was nearly smaller than Old Corona- but lively. The town was maybe a hundred buildings, most of them houses, though around the shoreline there were a few shops and businesses scattered around. There was a soft undertone of salt in the air, not oppressive but definitely noticeable as Varian, Rapunzel, and Eugene entered the town on foot. They’d ditched the Oracle at the main dock, tying her off and letting her bob in the waves without too much preamble.

Harling was made of cute little cottages, it seemed, with neat little flowerbeds and old, massive stones to make up the streets instead of cobblestone. People milled around, mostly fishermen and women from what Varian could tell, as well as what seemed to be a few traders and other salespeople. Everyone seemed mostly friendly, save for a few more grizzled, older men who glared at the newcomers. A few people stared, but it seemed strangers were a rarity in these parts, so they shrugged it off. Varian looked around the square, at a loss.

The alchemist paused, unsure, before looking back at his companions.

“I, uh,” he said, “I don’t really know where to start.”

Eugene came to his rescue, holding out his hand. “Can I see her note?” he asked, “Maybe she left a clue of some kind.”

Varian passed it over, unable to shake a weird feeling. He looked around, but was unable to see what was causing the feeling of eyes on the back of his head. He shook himself- probably just paranoia- before turning back to watch Eugene scan the paper.

“Well, here,” Eugene said, “Obviously there must be a secret code or something, right? She’s a nerd like you, so that would make sense-”

Varian snorted, taking the paper back. “Ha, ha,” he said, voice flat as a board, “You’re very funny. I’ve been looking over this thing for days, there’s no sign of a cypher or a clue. I think we’re stuck doing this the old-fashioned way.”

Eugene groaned, and Rapunzel wrung her hands. “Are you sure?” she asked, “Maybe we should just go back to the boat, try looking again.”

Varian felt his face do something funny when she not-so-subtly tried to get him to give up. It wasn’t even a scowl, more like a grimace, but it was more than clear how he felt about that suggestion as Rapunzel deflated.

“Or we do this the old-fashioned way,” she muttered. Eugene pat her on the back in a show of support, before turning to Varian.

“Alright, split up and ask around?” he asked, “We’ll meet back here in an hour and figure out if anyone’s seen her.”

The old-fashioned way, it turned out, was boring and tedious, and generally unsuccessful. Varian, unable to shake the feeling of being watched, wandered around the town, stopping by every small shop he could find to ask after any sign of his mother. Every single one had come up negative; none of the citizens of Harling had ever heard of a woman who matched her description, nor did her name ring any bells. He wasn’t surprised at the last one, when he’d been planning on going into hiding after the battle of Old Corona, Varian had already had false names ready to go.

It was nearly mid afternoon by the time he met back up with Rapunzel and Eugene, the two of them having no luck either. Varian huffed, frustrated, before looking around the square once more.

“Maybe we should break for lunch,” he said. “We’re not getting anywhere if we’re hungry.”

Eugene nearly wept, squishing Varian’s cheeks between his hands with a dramatic sob. “My boy,” he cooed, “Thank you for this.”

Varian snorted and shoved at his friend, pushing the hands from his face. “I’m hungry too,” he admitted. The alchemist ran a hand under the hood of his dad’s cloak, trying to shove his hair under it but only succeeding in making his bangs flop forward for a second. Rapunzel made a concerned noise when she caught sight of the stripe, miming for him to push it back under the fabric. Varian rolled his eyes, but complied.

“So, back to the boat, then?” Eugene asked hopefully, already turning around at the promise of some lunch. Rapunzel nodded, offering Varian a small smile as she turned away to follow Eugene. The boy moved to follow, but paused for a second. The air to his left seemed… strange.

Like it was rippling-

A pulse of panic raced up Varian’s spine, the boy scrambling back with a shriek as the air split in twain, a large crack following as a figure appeared right next to him. They were covered head to toe in a black cloak. Varian barely got a scream out, startling his friends, before a hand clapped over his mouth, another arm wrapping around his middle in a tight grip.

Arms pinned, he was only able to kick as the figure dragged him close. Varian could see Rapunzel and Eugene spin at his scream, eyes going wide when they saw what was happening; Eugene reached for his sword and Rapunzel her frying pan. The blond woman was quicker than her husband, running forward with an arm outstretched toward him.

“Varian!” she screamed, reaching for him with desperation before-

CRACK.

He was gone.

Varian’s whole world shifted sideways, his stomach jumping up into his throat before jumping down into his feet within a second of each other. He slammed his eyes closed with a scream, the noise muffled by his attacker’s hand. For a second gravity was both non-existent and too heavy, everything pushing and pulling and rotating in ways he definitely didn’t like.

The world snapped back into focus with another sickening crack.

Varian shuddered shaking roughly at the sudden return to normalcy. He kicked into the air again, though this time the heels of his boots connected with wooden floors instead of dirt and stone. His eyes shot open, the boy screaming again at the sight of a cabin’s interior. He struggled harder, bucking back against the person’s hold roughly.

They grunted- it sounded like they were male, but Varian couldn’t tell for sure with the pounding of his panicked heartbeat filling his ear. He shook once more in the grip, and finally resorted to drastic measures. With a snarl, the alchemist ripped his face away from the person’s gasp and opened his mouth, biting harshly into the meat of his attacker’s hand.

The person yowled, and the grip holding Varian fell away. The boy dropped to the ground, scrambling forward along the wooden floor of the cabin. He grabbed the first thing he could, a vacant chair that had been sitting alone at an empty dinner table, and held it above his head with a battle cry- though Eugene would probably argue it was more of a screech than anything else.

The person was holding their hand tightly, making weird noises as they ripped the glove off their hand. They shook it, whining, and dropped the glove to the wooden floor.

“You bit me!” they yelped, looking up to Varian. The boy wasn’t able to see their face, the skeletal thin man (because yep, definitely a man from the way their voice was a semi-deep whine) was covered in a large pair of dark goggles and a bandanna, with a mop of greasy, choppy, black hair peeking out from under the hood. He didn’t seem too old, maybe in his early thirties, but it still set the boy on edge. Varian paused his scream at the familiarity of the man’s outfit, reminded of his own Saporian getup, before hefting the chair higher and snarling at the man.

“You attacked me!” the boy bit back, not feeling badly at all.

“Yeah, and then you bit me, you little goblin!”

The man took a step, waving his injured hand, but backed off when Varian swiped at him with the chair.

“Where the hell am I?!” the alchemist demanded, refusing to get sidetracked. “Where did you take me?”

The man paused, seeming to weigh his options. “You’re in my house,” he finally said, “I needed to… needed to- something. I needed something, just give me a second...” The man trailed off, muttering something.

Varian looked around quickly, seeing that he was indeed in a small, single room cabin. It was cluttered, filled to the brim with loose papers and books, stacked to the ceiling in some places. Towers and towers of random literature were scattered across the floors. Varian could see the end of a bed poking out of the pile near a fire, unkept and messy like the rest of the cabin. The table to his side, the one he’d taken the chair from, was covered in dirty dishes, some of them looking nearly ancient from the way old food had crusted over. Varian wrinkled his nose at the sight, shifting away.

The man in front of him snapped his fingers, bringing the boy’s attention back. “I remember!” the man said, “I needed to warn you!”

The chair in Varian’s grip dropped a fraction, the alchemist tilting his head. “Warn me?” he asked, “Of what?”

“Well, you’re a crow, aren’t you? Though, not old enough really. More of a hatchling,” the man asked, cackling at his joke. He brought a hand up to his face, removing the bandanna first and showing a scruffy, black mess of a beard. He then moved again, shoving the goggles up onto his forehead, and the cloak back. Varian felt the fear come jolting back at the sight of the man’s face and electric green eyes, hefting the chair higher again.

He wasn’t Merrick, too old, but they could have been twins-

“Ah-ha,” the man awkwardly laughed when he saw Varian tense up. “So I’d guess you’ve met my siblings, then?”

Ah, that would explain it. How many of these bastards are there? Varian wondered to himself, glaring at the man in front of him.

“Sure, we can call it that.”

The man paused, bringing his hands up awkwardly. “I really do just want to talk,” he said, “Since you’ve met the others, I can’t blame you for being worried, but I promise I’m not here to hurt you.”

He took a step forward, but flinched back when Varian took another swing with the chair.

“Oi,” he yelled, “Watch it! I just want to talk-”

“You have a funny way of showing it!” Varian snapped at him, scowling as he tilted his head in agreement.

“I needed to talk to you without the Coronians trying to stab me! Don’t think I didn’t see that frying pan lady!” He took a step forward, Varian flinched back into the table. He paused, arching a brow. “You really are scared of me, huh? Strange, very strange…”

His voice was quiet, questioning. Almost confused. Varian looked away, unable to lie, but unwilling to tell the truth. The man looked all the more puzzled, taking another step. Varian allowed it, but the chair stayed up in the air in silent threat.

“You’re a crow,” The man insisted, like that solved anything. Varian’s face twisted, looking at him with a bitter expression. He paused, looking at the boy like a skittish animal. “You’re Aldred’s son, his heir, the monster’s flesh and blood-”

“I’m not his anything.” The alchemist cut him off. “He’s dead anyways, what does it matter?”

The man paused again. Tilted his head. “You really don’t know.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. When Varian shook his head, still refusing to look at him, he let his hands drop. “How do you not know-”

“Because I only knew the man for a month,” Varian said, a cool anger in his voice. “And it was the worst month of my life. Care to ask any more stupid questions?”

Something seemed to click in the man’s mind at that. “I… hm,” he trailed off, scratching at his beard. “This changes things. I was hoping you’d know the basics, but if you’re this in the dark… did my siblings ever explain anything to you? They’re chatty still, right?”

Varian didn’t reply, but the chair dropped another few inches. The man sighed, nodding. He rubbed his face with both hands, groaning once before slapping his own face with both palms. His face split into a grin, his spine straightening into a peppy jump. “Alright!” he chirped, “In that case, I’m making tea. All awful conversations need tea, don’t you know, always makes things easier-”

He shuffled around, still talking to himself and giving Varian and his chair a wide berth while he went to the kitchen part of the cabin. The boy kept the man in sight, refusing to do more than blink as the stranger bustled around. The man scooped up random jars that were scattered around the area, and a kettle that had been haphazardly perched on top of a stack of books. Varian watched as his odd host filled it with water from a nearby pump, before scuttling through a think path through the mess and setting it over the fire near the bed. He turned to Varian then, waving him forward with an excited grin.

Varian finally set the chair down gently, pushing it into place under the table. Though he knew better than to be lulled into a false sense of security, the manic energy of the man in front of him made him pretty confident that, should things go south, Varian would beat him in a run for the door. That, combined with the tantalizing offer of answers at long last… well, how could Varian say no?

The man jumped onto the bed with a grin, swinging his legs. He pointed in front of him, to an old chair in front of the fire. Varian took the hint and sat, trying not to wince at the way the flat stuffing did nothing to cushion the seat. He looked at the man expectantly, pulling a face when the man grinned. The boy huffed, holding his arms out in a well? kind of expression.

“So?” he asked, impatient. “What’s the warning?”

The man cocked his head, “Warning?”

Varian sighed, frustrated. It was easy enough to pick up that his host wasn’t all thereto say the least.

“You said you wanted to warn me,” the boy said, “And you said you’d explain why your brother and sister hate me s much.”

The man paused, blinking, before nodding. “Ah, yes!” he cried, “Right, right, that’s what you’re here for. I knew it was for something! My old mind is a little rattled, I had a bit of an oopsie with teleporting as a boy, scrambled my noggin pretty good.” He rapped on the side of skull with a knuckle. “Makes it hard to remember things sometimes.”

Varian wanted to remind the man that he’d literally snatched Varian off the street, but held his tongue. The man hummed to himself, uncorking a jar and pulling out a handful of dried herbs. He lifted the lid of the kettle, tossing them in, before wiping his hand on his cloak and turning back to his guest.

“I’ll start with my name, Oriellos, as that is what I’m called,” the man said, “Though, that’s more syllables than any good man should have to himself, so most just call me Ori- the village coot in training.”

“Varian,” the boy grit out, shifting away when the kettle made an angry, grumbling noise. Ori paid it no mind, scratching at his beard.

“Odd name,” the man mused, “from the Dark Kingdom, if I’m not mistaken. Not Bayan, to say the least.”

“My dad named me.” Varian hunched low in his seat. “Neither of my birth parents did.”

Gods that was bitter on the tongue. Ori seemed to pick up on the boy’s mood, and let it drop.

“Interesting,” is all he said. Varian refused to meet his eye, watching the fire instead. He didn’t have time for this- if Ori had answers, Varian would very much like to hear them, thank you.

“You were going to tell me why your siblings- oh by the Sun-” Varian cut himself off, suddenly clicking. “Your- Cerise, she-”

“Dropped like a stone and died, hm?” Ori cut in, “Yes, I felt it. Merrick would have as well.”

Varian went slack jawed, blinking quickly. “You… you know?” It was a stutter, but Ori simply nodded.

“Of course,” he shrugged, “Magic is an energy, like any other. When you connect to it, you receive feedback. When a connection’s severed it makes for a rather bad shock for everyone else. Like getting slapped with a wet fish.”

“I’m so sorry,” Varian whispered, electing to ignore the odd rambling. “I tried to pull her up, I swear I did.”

Ori shook his head. His toxic green eyes were distant. “We all have to die of something- in our family, you expect these things,” he muttered. “Crow, you have to understand-”

“My name’s Varian.”

Ori paused, dipping his head in agreement. “Varian,” he acquiesced, “There’s so much blood, buried in the books. Crows and Weasels, always biting at each other.” He scratched his beard, picking out what looked to be a crumb of bread. Ori shrugged, popping it into his mouth. Varian gagged a bit, but forced his face into something neutral. Even if Ori didn’t seem violent, Varian was quickly learning that appearances weren’t everything.

“The first King of Bayangor, Geldam, betrayed a long-time friend of his, named Cyrillus, who’s family line ends with me, as it does my siblings. Geldam nicked a powerful artifact called the Novis Staff.” Ori rolled his eyes, as if bored by the thought.

“Our family retaliated against yours, who got revenge on us for that, who then got back at us, and continue ad-nauseum until death. Back and forth and back and forth.” Ori slumped on the bed, kicking up his feet. “It never ends!”

“When Geldam and Cyrillus bit it, their feud refused to die with them, and the staff was lost to time. I assume if you’ve met the terrible two that you’ve already had a bit of a taste of how things are currently going between the families. Aren’t blood feuds fun?”

Varian picked at his gloves, thinking. It made sense, and the names lined up with those he’d heard in the past, but something still didn’t add up to him.

“Then why are you here?” he asked, “Why were Merrick and Cerise on their own?”

Ori huffed a tired breath, poking at the kettle. “Didn’t want it,” he said. “I wanted out, couldn’t do it anymore.”

When Varian remained quiet, the man looked to him. Ori sighed, shrugging. “We were raised as killers,” he admitted. “We were the champions of Bayangor, after all. Bunch of trollop. I was the oldest, five little whelplings following me. So many born, so many dead.”

“Five?” Varian breathed. He’d only met three.

“We started with six, including yours truly,” Ori had that faraway look again. “King Crow hit us hard after I left. Lost two that day, and dear old dad.” He paused again, scratching at his face. “You already know what happened to my little sister. Dead, dead, dead, bunch of corpses in a row.”

Varian felt a rock settle in his gut, a cold shock of ice. “F- Aldred did that?” he whispered, breath stolen. Ori paused in his rambling, smiling vapidly. The boy sighed, already recognizing another tune-out from the man in front of him. Sure enough:

“Did what? Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

Varian bit his tongue again, trying to think his way through.

“Aldred. Attacked your family.”

“Ah, yes, yes he did. We were enemies, you know. Our families.”

Varian flinched. “He wasn’t my family,” he said, trying to keep his tone from being aggressive. From the way Ori focused on him, a carefully neutral expression on his face, he must have failed.

“Aldred was my father’s enemy, those old bastards,” he said, “And you, me, and any others were going to continue the bloody tradition until the Queen Crow disappeared with you. The day Aldred decided you two were dead, my family were dolling out champagne.”

“You thought it was the end,” Varian said. Ori nodded.

“We did. But Aldred wasn’t done. Neither was my father, the stubborn asshole. There’s one thing you have to understand,” Ori leaned forward, his eyes focusing again. “There comes a time when blood for blood becomes blood for blood’s sake. I tried to convince them that, with you and your mother gone, King Crow was refusing to take another wife. His bloodline was going to die with him, and our feud could finally be put to rest.”

Varian flinched when Ori mentioned his mother. “I feel like it didn’t go so well,” is all he said.

Ori smiled, something bitter. “Not so well at all,” he agreed, back to being flippant. “I wanted it over, no more, I thought! No more crows, no more blood! So, I left. Two weeks after that the King Crow hit our home harder than he ever had before. I was seventeen. Cerise would have been around eight. Merrick was three. Did you know he used to have a bowlcut? He was the ugliest little baby-”

Varian shuddered. Looked into the fire. “I’m sorry,” was all he was able to pull from his aching chest. Ori only shrugged.

“Such is life. You had nothing to do with it, even if my siblings don’t understand that.”

The alchemist forced himself to look at Ori once more. Something in him tugged, a dark part he’d been keeping locked away. A niggling doubt that hadn’t left in all the years since Barveil Keep.

“I’m… still connected to him, though.” It was more a whisper, like he was afraid to even voice it. “You said it yourself, I’m his blood. Whatever made him… like that, it could still be in me. Waiting for me to slip up again. I’m- I’m scared of it. I hoped leaving Corona would make me feel less connected to everything, but I think it’s just made things worse.”

Ori nodded. His eyes were sad, but Varian could tell that the man in front of him understood exactly what he was saying. “There are some things we can never leave behind,” Ori said. “Things like where we come from. Who we’ve loved, and lost. These are things that we carry with us no matter where we go.” The man paused, seeing Varian’s face fall. “A long time ago I would have said that your family defines you as much as mine did me. And I supposed it still does, since the two of us aren’t currently trying to kill each other!”

Varian snorted at that, wiping at his eyes to chase off a small spring of tears. Ori smiled at the laugh, sitting up properly for the first time since Varian had met him. He caught the boy’s eye, serious.

“I think that, even if you can’t leave it behind, the past is just part of the puzzle. Where you come from is just that, but it doesn’t tell you where you’re going, my young friend.”

Something in Varian felt seen, a sudden connection clicking in his mind. In Corona they’d all told him to forget the past, to leave it buried. Never to think of it as a part of him, just a blemish on his history to be painted over and left to rot. It made him want to run, run, run, until it was a spot on the horizon behind him. But here was someone who, like him, had tried to shuck the trappings of his bloodline and had found his own place, his own joy.

It gave him hope.

“Thank you,” Varian said, trying to get through how awkward he still felt, only to see Ori had zoned out.

“Come again?” the man asked. Varian only huffed something of a laugh.

“Forget it,” he said, settling back into his chair.

Ori smiled when the kettle began to scream, taking it off the fire and holding it tightly. He stood from the bed and shuffled over to the kitchen, bustling for a second. Varian ignored his manners for a second, content to puzzle over the strange wisdom that had been dropped in his lap. When Ori returned, it was with two steaming cups.

“It’s bergamot peel and ginger,” the man declared, setting the cups down on a stack of books that lay between them. “Good for-”

“Good for magical protection and luck,” Varian finished for him. Ori smiled, toasting his cracked cup in recognition.

“Correct!” he crowed, “And here I thought you weren’t of the magical sorts!”

Varian felt his face heating up, taking his own drink and reminiscing. The last time he’d spoken to Arianna they’d shared this drink together, it made him melancholy to see it again without her. He hoped she was okay, that Merrick hadn’t hurt her too badly.

“I just know a few tricks,” he said, taking a sip and wincing at the bitter flavor. “Learned them from a friend.”

Ori smiled knowingly. “The arcane arts are a dying breed,” he lamented, “Hard to find anyone who knows the less aggressive side of magic. Especially after Cyrillus’ time, with the thousand-year feud. Anything that couldn’t be used in battle tended to fall by the wayside.”

Varian couldn’t help but feel curious. Supposedly this whole thinghad been happening since the time of Demanitus and Zhan Tiri, but-

“Why for so long?” he asked, “Didn’t anyone ever, I dunno, try and make amends?” His gaze shifted again, this time to the floor. “Revenge doesn’t make anything better, it just causes… problems. Nothing ever gets any better.”

Ori’s face split into a grin. He brought up his cup, toasting before taking a drink.

“You and I, young sir,” he said, “Seem to have a very similar philosophy.”

Varian huffed a laugh into his tea, but stopped when he heard a commotion outside. Both he and Ori looked towards the door of the cabin as it burst open, books and different knick-knacks going flying in every direction. Varian shot to his feet, hiding behind his chair even as Ori sat still. The boy watched as the man took another sip of his tea, ignoring as a wave of people entered the small room.

The first person he noticed was Rapunzel, her frying pan held high as she weaved around towers of books, scanning the room. The second was Eugene, sword held high as he went in a different direction from his wife. The third was a tall, stocky woman, with a large brimmed, black hat and a long brown coat. She looked furious, scanning the room like a falcon looking for a mouse.

“Ori!” she barked, “Get your sorry self out here, you degenerate!”

“Right here, constable!” Ori hollered, waving a hand, “We’re just having a lovely chat!”

Varian poked his head out from behind the chair, quickly catching the eye of Rapunzel. The princess sprinted toward him, wrapping him up in a hug and pulling him close.

“Oh thank the Sun,” she murmured, pressing kisses into his hair, “We thought we lost you, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Varian assured her, patting awkwardly at her arm. “I’m fine, he’s a… well, a friend, I guess.”

He caught sight of Ori offering him a pair of thumbs-up, and grinned back. The constable drew closer, sidestepping Rapunzel and Varian. She was a middle-aged woman, maybe in her fifties, who looked tired and cranky. She grabbed Ori by the ear, dragging him into a standing position as he whined.

“You cannot,” she began, “Be doing your weird magic shit in my town, Ori. You scared these poor people half to death!”

Ori whined again as she shook him by the ear. Varian got the impression this wasn’t his first offence, but wasn’t able to pry himself out of Rapunzel’s death hug quite yet.

“Now, you’re going to tell them that you’re sorry,” the Constable hissed, “And then you are going to promise me to stop snatching children off the street! The bloody hell were you thinking?”

Ori babbled something unintelligible, the constable shaking him like one would a stubborn jar that refused to give up its contents. Varian pushed himself out of Rapunzel’s arms, quietly approaching.

“It’s okay,” he said, ignoring when Eugene spluttered behind him, “He just wanted to talk to me. Our families are… old friends.”

The woman stopped, eyeing Varian. “You sure you don’t wanna press charges?” she asked, her gruff voice nearly concerned.

“No, thank you,” Varian mumbled, “He was just trying to help.”

The woman sighed, letting Ori’s ear go. “You lucked out on this one,” she griped, jabbing a finger in the man’s face. “But don’t think I’m okay with you popping in and out of thin air. You’re going to give someone another heart attack, and the doctor’s already made a complaint.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ori said sheepishly, “No more, I promise.”

“Damn right.”

The Constable turned to Rapunzel then, nodding once. “Sorry about him,” she said, “He’s a bit of a loon, but he doesn’t mean any harm.”

Behind her, Ori plucked one of his books down from a tower, and tore a page from it. Varian winced at the sound of tearing paper, but the Constable ignored it. Rapunzel hugged Varian to her again, holding him tightly.

“It’s alright,” she said, “If Varian’s okay, then it’s fine.”

The boy grimaced a little, but plastered a smile on when the officer shot him a look. Ori had taken his page and begun to fold a hat from it, holding it up with a grin.

“If he gives you any more trouble, let me know,” the Constable said roughly, before turning and leaving the cabin. In the silence that followed, Eugene approached, cupping Varian’s face in his hands. The boy didn’t fight it, letting his friend inspect him.

“You’re alright, kid?” he asked, “No bumps or bruises?”

Varian shook his head. “He wanted to warn me about his siblings,” the boy said. “He’s related to Merrick and Cerise.”

Rapunzel tensed, eyeing Ori once more. The man took his paper hat and placed it upon his head with a delicate motion, like one would a crown.

“I am sorry,” Ori said, “But I wanted to talk to the crow without you two trying to run me through first.”

He tore another page out, folding it as well. Eugene seemed unimpressed, pursing his lips, but looked back to Varian. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

Varian snorted. Ori had finished his other hat, passing it to Varian without preamble. The boy took it, placing it on his own head with a grin.

“I’m good,” he said.

Ori cleared his throat once more, holding the book tightly. He flipped a few more pages, showing a hollowed-out center.

“I have one more thing,” he said, “I know you’re not here by chance, and I know what you’re looking for.” He took a small stone from the book, covered in runes with a large hole in the center. He held it out to Varian, who took it gently. It was barely large enough to fit in the palm of his hand, and smooth, almost like glass. Varian wasn’t sure if he were imagining it, but it almost seemed warm to the touch.

“It’s an adder stone,” Ori explained. “It’s good for pointing your way to lost things, or helping see past illusions. It’s not much, but I hope it helps.”

Varian held the adder stone tightly, bringing it to his chest. He grinned, grateful.

“Thank you,” he said again. He hoped Ori knew it was for more than just the gift, but when the mage’s eyes glazed over once more, the boy sighed in defeat.

“For what?” the man asked, “Sorry, do I know you?”

“Yeah, you do.” Varian replied. He thought for a second longer how to elaborate, at a loss, but eventually settled with something he thought was close enough to the truth for now. “We’re friends,” he said, smiling when Ori’s little hat fell off his head.

With new information, context at long last, something in him finally began to settle.

#varian #tangled the series #tts #set the kindling strike a match #fic #we past the halfway hump now lads

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