Okay, it's close to midnight, but still technically Monday, so I call that a success!
Buckle up, my dear readers, because everything's downhill from here.
Trigger warnings: falling from heights, panic attacks, being tied up, hitting, threatening, mentions of previous violent injuries, hurt animals
--------------------------
"'Kay. So you're running from a bigger, faster opponent."
"Why am I running?"
"Because you're sickly and small and they want to kill you."
"Fair enough."
Hector crossed his arms. "Tell me what you do to get away."
"Run faster?"
"Aaand you're dead."
Varian groaned. This was the seventh time he'd been declared "dead" this morning. "Fine. What's the answer?"
"If you're running from an opponent, find a wall. Your move is this." He ran at the wall of the training room, jumped up, and planted his right foot against the wall, twisting back to kick with his left. "Straight to the abdomen," he coached. "Then you either kill them or run. Try it."
Varian copied the movement. Hector watched him calculatingly. "Watch your posture. Again."
As he repeated the move time and again, he made an effort to mimic Hector's smooth, easy motions. The months of training reminded him that he didn't have to be as good as the warrior yet and it was more important that he perform properly rather than prettily, but he envied the way his uncle seemed to move like lightning, like a cat, like water, depending on the situation.
"Keep practicing," Hector grumbled. "I've got work to do."
"What's wrong? You're moody again."
"I'm fine."
Varian crossed his arms.
Hector rolled his eyes. "I don't like this. She's late."
"The princess?"
"Yeah. Figured she'd be here weeks ago."
Varian shrugged. "Maybe we got lucky and she's not actually coming."
"Hmph. And when do we ever get lucky?"
"Touché."
He shook his head. "She's coming. Don't know when. I'm going out to scout."
"Can I come?" Over the last month and a half, he often went out on scouting trips with Hector and the animals. He was learning the paths travelers took, the natural and manmade traps that protected the Tree, and the local flora and how to use it.
Hector shrugged. "Sure. C'mon."
Of all the things Varian had adjusted to, riding on a rhino was perhaps the strangest. He was familiar with horses, but Kubwa was not a horse, and it had taken a good while to get used to it. He clung tight to the saddle, Hector keeping him steady from behind. They raced out of the Tree, the bearcats by their side and Artemis flying overhead. Ruddiger perched on Varian's shoulders, as usual.
As they traveled, Varian tried to focus less on the beautiful scenery and more on the things Hector had taught him to watch for. Broken branches, tracks, the flight of birds, etc. Anything that might signify someone or something had passed by. Nothing seemed to be amiss. A few times, Hector directed his attention to markings that showed where a deer had passed or a rabbit had grazed.
Without warning, Kubwa suddenly skidded to a stop. Hector jumped off his back.
"What's wrong?" Varian asked.
Hector held up a hand and examined the ground. "Horses," he finally answered. "Two riders came this way then turned around and went back. Probably got spooked by the gorge off that direction if they didn't know the way around."
Varian tried to shake his unease. "If they went back, do you think they're gone now?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. Best not to take chances." He held up his hands to help Varian down off Kubwa. Then he motioned him to get on Riki's back. "Go back to the Tree. I'll be back in a bit."
"But you said I could come with you!"
"Don't argue. Just go." Riki leaped into action, carrying his passenger back to safety. The boy turned to look back, seeing Hector examining the tracks again.
He had no doubt his uncle would be fine. Hector was the greatest warrior Varian had ever seen, and bandits or invaders were no match for his skill. But what if there were too many of them? What if they had already passed them and made it to the Tree? Riki could possibly fend them off, but Varian didn't have enough training.
Well, he was determined to protect the path. He'd learned a good bit, and it wouldn't be the first time he went to war outnumbered.
But you had alchemy then, the unhelpful part of his brain suggested.
Shut up, he reminded it.
They reached the Tree, and Riki ran straight for Varian's room. The boy slid off and watched as the bearcat ran back to search the area. Varian started to exit the room, but Riki suddenly appeared in the doorway and growled at him. The message was clear: Stay.
...Yeah, maybe he'd train more before taking anyone on. His track record was pretty bad so far. With any luck, Hector would take care of everything.
O‴O‴O‴
A screech from Artemis guided Hector in the direction of the invaders. Kiki, who had split off to search, ran up to the warrior and motioned back the way he had come.
"How many?"
Kiki stamped his foot six times.
"Right. Show me." If they were normal bandits, six would be child's play. If they were professionals, he might actually get a workout in today.
Check the arrogance, old man. Can't afford to take chances.
Sure enough, he wanted to slap himself as he came over the edge of the hill. A yellow and purple caravan sat in the road, and two women stood chatting nearby. One of the women had a distinctive ankle-length braid.
The Sundrop.
The princess.
The girl who had ruined his nephew's life.
Kubwa's thudding footsteps apparently got their attention, and they turned to look in surprise.
All the fury that Hector had held back for months, all the righteous anger that he had placed aside in order to keep his focus where it belonged, flooded his mind. These people had no place here. They had no business coming here, threatening his home, his mission, his nephew.
Control. Do not lose control. There's too much at stake. He steeled his nerves and prepared to attack, unable to hide the sneer of disgust as he looked at the two betrayers and would-be thieves.
A man stepped out of the caravan and yelled in surprise when he saw Hector. Kubwa roared and reared up on his hind legs as all three jumped onto the front seat and spurred the horses to action. They bolted like fire was licking at their tails. The defenders gave pursuit.
The caravan bumped and clattered over the uneven road. Kubwa started to gain, plowing through a tree growing in the path without even slowing down. Her Royal Interloper poked her head up over the caravan to stare back at them, but the man quickly pulled her back down. Kubwa got close enough to slam into the side of their ride, and Hector heard the sound of hollering from the other side.
They were approaching the mountain path. The party charged straight onto it, running along the cliffside. If Kubwa could knock them off the edge to the right...
Then the caravan split in two.
He had only a brief minute to be shocked before zeroing in on the blonde braid blowing in the wind from one half and following that. The second half darted up onto another path just above and to the left of the first, Kiki hot on its tail. Varian would love to see that, he thought. The kid was fascinated by anything strange and odd. A dividable caravan would be a great trophy to bring back if he was forced to kill the occupants.
Killing hadn't originally been his plan; he'd hoped just to be able to turn them around. But if they wouldn't back down, he would have no qualms about ending them. They had already done enough damage to Varian.
The dark-haired, muscular woman climbed up onto the top of the princess's caravan. Hector drew out a flail, swinging the spiked end of it into the back of the caravan and fixing the chain on Kubwa's saddle. The rhino kept just far enough back to keep the chain taut. Hector stood and stepped out onto the chain, walking towards the woman, who had climbed down onto the back porch. She flung a chest at him, and he sliced it aside easily without faltering. This one must be Cassandra, then. Half of him wanted to charge her, to make her know the same fear that Varian had of her, but the wiser half told him to keep steady. The chain swayed slightly underfoot, and the wind tearing through his hair and clothes threatened to unbalance him. He kept his core tight and focused on each step, coming closer and closer.
"None shall enter the Dark Kingdom!" he snarled. His gaze drifted only slightly to where Kiki was biting at the edge of the second caravan. The bearcat tore a plank of wood off and stabbed it into the wheel, causing the caravan to flip. It had reached the end of the high path, and as it fell, it landed on top of the first one. The motion almost unbalanced Hector, who bent his knees to adjust to the looseness of the chain. Kubwa drew back enough to pull it tight again. Three of the men quickly shoved the two halves apart again, landing the second one on the ground.
Did the laws of physics not apply to these people?
A flash of red and gray caught his eye from the path above. Something flew at the caravan, landing on the back and snapping the chain. He jumped as it disappeared out from under him, flipping through the air to balance on the top of the carriage.
Adira.
You've got to be joking.
Of course she'd be with the Sundrop! Looks like she found it after all.
But if she was with the princess...
How much did she know?
Did she know about Varian?
His wayward sister leaped up to join him. Hector barely deflected a swing from her sword, the black rock blade whistling as it cut through the air near his face. His own sword screeched in response to the blow as he knocked it aside. But he had gotten distracted by his thoughts, and he didn't see her foot until it connected with his abdomen. Losing his balance, he hit the ground hard and was unable to regain his footing before he was tumbling off the edge of the cliff, down to the river below...
O‴O‴O‴
Varian planned to stay put. He really did. But when he heard Riki screech, he jolted up from his book in shock. If the bearcat was hurt, then the thieves were here. And if the thieves were here, then Hector—
No! Don't think like that. He had to do something! Uncle Hector could be hurt, maybe dying! He couldn't just sit here. Eyeing the bow and arrows by his bed with skepticism, he shuddered. Hunting was one thing, but being willing to shoot a human was another.
But he didn't have time to set traps if they were already here! And he had a job to do. He was supposed to protect the Tree and the Moonstone. Setting his jaw, he grabbed the weapons and Ruddiger and ran out.
He stalked along the corridors, arrow set to the string, shaft loose in his fingers. He'd learned to do most of his fighting left-handed to make up for his lack of vision on his right side. Thankfully, Hector's ministrations and teaching meant his formerly broken arm was now as strong, if not stronger, than his other. Ruddiger crept by his side, staying off his shoulders in case he had to shoot.
Where was Riki? The binturong might need help. It had already been about twenty minutes since he cried out. If Varian could find him, he had some bandages in his belt. Hector always insisted on preparedness—
His thoughts were cut short by a cold wave of darkness, faint and distant but enough to leave him struggling for breath. His energy from a minute ago fled. Shuddering in horror, he reached down to stroke Ruddiger's fur. The raccoon was breathing laboriously as well. What was that? It felt different from the dark energy of the Great Tree. It was somehow shallower, colder, but no less powerful. Where had it come from?
It grew stronger, deeper, more soul-draining. He stumbled backwards to get away from whatever it was. Mere minutes after it began, as Varian warred in indecision whether to find the source or get to a safer location, it ended.
Well, that answered that question. Now to find what had caused it.
O‴O‴O‴
"Riki?" He kept his voice low. No sense in alerting everyone else to his presence. If the bearcat was anywhere around, he didn't make a sound.
Varian tapped the wooden bow nervously. No sign of Riki. No sign of Uncle Hector. No sign of invaders. The Tree was too quiet, too still. It didn't bode well, whispering thoughts of danger, of knives in the darkness, of shadows crawling beneath the skin and into the heart. His home was dark, and no creature dared disturb the air.
Turning the corner to his right—that was his first mistake—he came to a halt as he encountered a group of frighteningly familiar people.
No.
No, no please no, anyone but them, please...
One of them stepped forward. Cassandra. He lifted his bow with shaking hands, but he couldn't aim properly. Why were they here why did they have to come here where the dickens was Uncle Hector—
The weapon slipped from his trembling grasp, and he stepped back. Ruddiger hissed beside him.
"Varian?" It was the princess speaking, he thought. It was hard to hear past the ringing in his ears.
Cassandra took another step forward. In panic, Varian turned on his heel and ran.
Footsteps thudded behind him. He tore through the body of the Tree, not knowing where he was going, he just had to go anywhere away from them away from Cassandra away from the princess.
"Varian, get back here!"
He kept running, running, running, he had to lose her, he had to get away, she would hurt him—
"Stop running!" Her voice was closer. She was gaining on him!
He wasn't fast enough.
She was going to catch him.
They always caught him, right before they dragged him back to the broken shell of his house—his prison.
He hadn't tried to run when they arrested him.
He hadn't run during the months they hurt him.
He ran now.
A wall loomed up ahead of him. His eyes widened. If he could get to it in time, all it would take was a single kick to her stomach. Then he could find a place to hide! He kept running; closer, closer, almost there—
Her hand closed around his upper arm and jerked him to a stop violently. His feet skidded across the ground, unable to gain purchase. "Let me go let me go let me go!" he screeched. He yanked and twisted, but her unyielding grip dug into his skin. She started to drag him back, back to the group, back to the people who hurt him and left him and lied to him and used him.
Ruddiger snarled and bit at her legs. She kicked him aside like a rag doll. He struck the wall with a thud.
"RUDDIGER!" Varian screamed. The raccoon stumbled to his feet, swaying unsteadily. He started forward again but fell on his tail. Then Cassandra was dragging him away again, away from Ruddiger.
Her hand on his arm was iron, unmoving, like the guards. Like Uncle Hector, but his hands were always outstretched, offering but not demanding. Cassandra's hands were hard and unfeeling, not caring about the bruises she was leaving on his arm. Just like the guards.
They wouldn't stop hurting him, their gloved hands leaving marks across his face, his arms, twisting his wrists when he wouldn't cooperate, breaking bones when he did, yanking his hair, holding him to a table, forcing his mouth open so they could drug him and hurt him they always hurt him why couldn't it stop why wouldn't they leave him alone—
In terror, he slammed his fist against her arm repeatedly. Cassandra growled and twisted his arm painfully. He kicked at her ankle, but her hold never wavered. "No, let me go! Let go!" An attempt to stab her with the dagger on his belt led to just as little success, and she grabbed it and twisted it out of his hand.
"Stop fighting me!" she snarled. Inch by agonizing inch, he was hauled back against his will to face them, the people he had hoped to never see again. The people who hated him. The people who had promised him everything and left him with nothing but pain and suffering.
He screamed and clawed and writhed, but she was unwavering. Not even when he sunk his teeth into her hand did she let go. Instead, she delivered a stinging slap to his face that left him dazed and disoriented.
"Give me the rope!" They had reached the group again, and someone—he couldn't see who—handed her a length of rope. She forced his arms behind his back and had him tied before he could wrestle away from her. As the rope bound his wrists, his panic increased, if that were possible. "No, please stop! Let me go! Please!"
"Varian, calm down!" It was the princess again. A bout of rage interrupted his blind panic. How dare she tell him to calm down as if they were friends! How dare she look at him with that cursed sympathy in her eyes! He turned his head away from her, unable and unwilling to look at her any longer.
"How did you get here?" she asked. "It took us almost a year, and we had horses!"
"Probably broke out the day he got arrested and stole a horse," Cassandra offered, her grip on his arms viselike. "I'm more interested in how he got out. We'll need to know what to fix when we get the brat back to Corona."
"No, stop it! Leave me alone! Let me go!"
Cassandra shook him roughly. "One more word out of you and I'll gag you!"
"Cass!" the princess exclaimed angrily.
He shut up, though the tears streaming down his face screamed his distress for the world to see.
Too bad the world didn't care. It never had.
O‴O‴O‴
Against his will, he was dragged along as the group made their way through the Tree. He'd tried to fight at first, but the guard—no, Cassandra—no, she was a guard—threatened to knock him out if he didn't behave. She'd already searched him and taken his knives and lockpick. He could see the princess looking at him with that sad, compassionate look in her eyes he'd rather ignore. He didn't need her pity. To be honest, though, he probably looked a sight. He hadn't been nearly as battered and scarred the last time they met. That had been just after house arrest, when the guards contented themselves with leaving bruises that would fade with time, giving no evidence for their princess to see if she ever came looking.
Not that she ever did.
Aside from the princess, Cassandra, Fitzherbert, and the old man who agreed to be his assistant during the disastrous science expo what felt like an eternity ago, there were three he didn't know—a thug-looking man with a hook for a foot; a young, well-dressed bald man who reminded Varian of a thief or bandit, and a tall woman with white hair.
It was this woman who caught his attention. Her appearance—half her face painted red, her hair twisted up into a braid with gold bands, the sword strapped to her back (was that blade made of the black rocks?), the mismatched earrings, and what was obviously not Coronan battle gear—was startling enough, but it was the symbol on her belt and on the back of her right hand that drew his eye: a circle with three slash marks.
The Brotherhood.
Then this was Adira.
He had seen her speaking with the princess right after Cassandra took him prisoner. Probably getting information on who he was. After that, she kept an eye on him. Her gaze wasn't unfriendly or hostile like the others; it was just curious.
The party trudged up a set of steps, coming to rest on one of the Tree's platforms. Below was nothing but a solid drop, leading all the way back down to (if Varian had to guess based on their location in the Tree) the pit where the Heart resided. Upon reaching the platform, the boys dramatically threw themselves to the ground. Fitzherbert looked over the edge before sitting. "Whoo. Oh, it's a long way down!"
Rapunzel put a hand on his shoulder. "I guess that means we're at the half-way point."
"I suggest we camp out for the night," Ms. Adira offered.
Cassandra took offense to that idea. She shoved Varian down onto the lid of what looked like an old stone casket—he was scared to ask whose, and what it was doing all the way up here—and started arguing with the older woman. Varian tried to tune them out, curling into himself and attempting to rest. The only thing that seemed interesting about the conversation was when Cassandra mentioned another incantation. That must be the Moonstone's incantation from the scroll room, then. Had she read it? Was that what caused the darkness earlier?
Oh, and now Rapunzel was yelling at Cassandra. How nice. Apparently, she trusted Adira more than Cassandra. Varian couldn't care less.
The bodyguard stalked back to where Varian sat. Crap. He was hoping she'd forgotten about him. Of all the times to repeat her earlier mistakes, this would have been it. But no, she sat next to him and took the rope binding him in her hand.
Whispering from off to his right distracted him, especially since he had no inclination to turn his head and see who it was. Probably the bald one. "Was he always half-blind?"
"No, no," Fitzherbert answered. "That's definitely new."
"Oh. How do you think that happened?"
"I don't know. Ask him."
"Hey, kid, how did you get half-blind?"
Varian winced at the reminder and rested his head on his knees. He had no inclination to talk to any of these people.
"I knew a man that was half-blind," the old man, who seemed perpetually drunk, added. "No, wait, it was a horse. And it was missing a leg. Stole my wallet."
Seeing Varian wasn't answering, Cassandra decided to offer her unwelcome opinion. "Probably crossed some bandits on the way here. Or messed himself up with another alchemy disaster. The real question is what we're doing with him now. Obviously, he has to go back to Corona, but we can't take him now. We could take him to the Dark Kingdom, but I'm not too keen on the idea of waking up to a knife in my back."
Yeah, like she was the one to talk about backstabbing.
"We'll just... keep an eye on him," the princess suggested. "Take turns keeping watch. We have to do that anyway, so it won't hurt."
"Hey, we could always leave him here for Crazy Rhino Guy," Fitzherbert offered as he started a campfire. "He's not a danger to us, he's not a danger to Corona, and we don't have to worry about transporting him!"
Yes, yes! he thought. Leave me here! I deserve it! You hate me, remember? Leave me for the Crazy Rhino Guy to deal with!
"We can't leave him here," Rapunzel argued.
"I agree." Adira looked up from examining the blade of her sword. "I wouldn't put it past Hector to stoop low enough to hurt or kill a child, even Quirin's child."
Varian wanted to scream that Hector was the only one here he trusted not to hurt him! But he kept his mouth shut. Whether from lack of desire to talk to these people or worry that Cassandra would go through with her threat, he didn't know. He'd learned the hard way not to push Coronan soldiers too far.
The princess and her boyfriend whispered together for a few minutes. Then she came over to Cassandra. "Can we talk for a minute?"
Cassandra cocked an eyebrow and nodded her head at Varian.
"Eugene can watch him." The princess clasped her hands.
"Fine." Cassandra stood and handed the rope to Fitzherbert, who took her place on the casket. The girls walked away and sat by the edge of the platform, murmuring softly.
"Sooo..." the ex-thief began, "How did you get here, anyway? Couldn't have been an easy trip, judging from the look of you."
Varian didn't dignify him with an answer.
"C'mon, kid. I know we didn't exactly get along, but you can talk to Eugene, right?" He sighed when Varian refused to speak. "Okay, look. I know the thought of going back to prison's not exactly entertaining, but it's got to be better than whatever you've been through out here, right?"
Varian curled up further. He had no idea. Fitzherbert had no idea the things he had suffered. He tried not to hold it against him, but it was hard. This man had been his hero, his role model, and Varian had done everything he could to be worthy of his friendship. But when he needed him, Fitzherbert turned on him. He had left him to be persecuted and hunted without cause, then he didn't give a second thought when he had been arrested and left in the hands of those sadists. He'd left on his little adventure with the princess and forgotten about the child who had reached out with desperate arms for any sign of acceptance.
"Kid?" Fitzherbert was still looking at him. Go away please just go away and forget about me like you did back then. "Okay, fine, I get it. You hate me, I hate you, you're an escaped convict and you don't want to go back to jail, but we can't just let you go, and that means we have to know how you got here. Trust me. Living life on the run is no way to live. At least back in Corona, you'll be safe. And the king promised to get you help. Maybe just give him a chance."
Varian couldn't hide his scoff of indignation. "Leave me alone," he whispered finally. "You don't know anything."
"Really? I know what it's like to try to make it on your own, constantly running from the law and doing anything to survive. I know what it's like to have your back against a wall and only have bad options. But you've got an option in front of you now."
Varian uncurled slightly and glared at the man. "Let me ask you this. Are you saying this because you actually care about what happens to me, or are you just upset that the kid who hurt your friends and family and committed treason isn't being punished properly? Are you worried about the fact that a cell can't hold me? Is all of your kindness just a ploy to figure out how to lock me up properly?"
He had the decency to look embarrassed. "Come on, you can't blame me. I mean, you threatened my family, the love of my life, everything I hold dear."
"Why?"
"Huh?" He blinked in surprise. "Why what?"
"Why did I do what I did?"
"I... don't know."
"Of course you don't." Varian curled up again. "You of all people, the thief who got reformed by a princess, should know there's usually more to the story. But you didn't bother to ask because you didn't care. You never cared. You still don't. So stop pretending you do and stay out of my life." He turned away.
Fitzherbert sighed. "Kid..."
"Move, Fitzherbert," Cassandra growled, coming up to them. The man stood and stepped aside. Cassandra grabbed Varian's face and forced him to look at her. "Listen, brat. You don't move. You speak only if you're spoken to. You make her cry, I'll break every last bone in your rotten little body, got it?"
"Cass," the princess sighed. "It's fine."
The bodyguard released him and stepped back as her charge sat next to him. "I'm watching, and I'm listening."
They watched her back as she walked over to the campfire and sat facing them. "So..."
"Are all of you going to start with 'so'?"
She sighed. "This... isn't easy, okay? It took long enough to convince Cass to let me talk to you at all, so can we just talk?"
"About what?" The last thing he wanted to talk to her.
"About... what happened."
He looked up at her in angry disbelief. "You want to talk about what happened? What part? The part where I went crazy and attacked you? The part where I blackmailed you into helping me? Or how about the part where I nearly died in that blizzard? Or the men who beat me when I tried to leave home? Which part did you want to talk about, specifically?" He took small satisfaction in the look of surprise that crossed her face at the last two items on the list.
"Varian, I..." She wrung her hands anxiously.
"Look, do you actually want to have a conversation, or do you just want to remind me of everything I did wrong? Because believe me, I know." He shuddered. "I knew what I did was wrong even before the guards 'reminded' me. I wanted so badly to apologize to you. But I never got the chance. And I'd do it now, I would, but I... I can't right now. Not after what happened. Not yet."
"What do you mean?"
He shuddered. "It's... as weird as it sounds, I can't. I spent months having it drilled into my head that I was the only one at fault for what happened, and I believed it. It took so long to see that I wasn't."
She crossed her arms. "What, you want to put blame for this on me, on my friends?"
He glared. "I wasn't the only one who did wrong. We both know that. The only difference is that I admit what I did."
"Varian, I told you! The blizzard—"
"Funny how you always go back to that. That was always your favorite excuse. 'The blizzard! Oh, my people needed me!' I needed you, too. What happened after the blizzard, huh? Why didn't you come? Why couldn't you come help me? Why did you leave me?" He used his shoulder to brush away the tears in his eyes. He would not cry in front of her again. He'd already cried enough to last a lifetime. Tears were best saved for his panic attacks, anyway.
"I..." She had no answer. Not that he'd expected one. "Well, you could have come to me! You could have come back after the storm!"
"Princess," he spat, "you let them throw me out in a snowstorm! I was sick for days! When I did get out, people hated me because of that stupid rumor I attacked you! There was no way I was getting to you. Even if I could, the masked men held me prisoner for almost a month!"
"What?" He knew she knew about the men—he'd sent that letter to bring her to his house, after all, and she'd seen them—but apparently the rest was a surprise to her. "What are you talking about? You wrote me a note when you needed my help!"
His shoulders hunched with the memory of the weeks he'd spent under their control. "And do you know the risk I took doing that? If they'd found out, they probably would have broken my legs." Curling up further into his protective ball, regretting the fact that he couldn't wrap his arms around himself, he whispered, "I waited. I waited for you. You promised. I waited while they came and interrogated me every few days and beat me when I wouldn't tell them what they wanted to know. I kept waiting... I thought you'd come. Every day, I told myself you'd come and rescue me. Every day I tried to free my dad, I knew you'd keep your promise. So I waited. And then I realized you weren't coming." He shook his head. "I should have seen it. They were the royal guard. I didn't know at first, but it didn't take too long to figure out. If they were the royal guard, then you probably knew about what they were doing to me and just didn't care. But I didn't stop hoping. That's why I sent the letter. Used you as a distraction to escape and hide."
"Oh, Varian..." She sighed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He looked up at her in shock. "I couldn't trust you! You lied to me! I didn't know how much you already knew."
"You could have told me the day you stole the flower—"
"Rapunzel," he sighed. "I tested you." The words, so reminiscent of the ones he had said that day, lacked their earlier venom. Now they were laden with weariness and pain. "Those little 'slip-ups' I made? Talking about saving my dad rather than Corona? 'They have their hands full'? Give me some credit. I'm a better liar than that. I tested you. I wanted to see if you'd be willing to help me if it was just me and my dad who needed help. But no, all you cared about was your precious kingdom. Not the people in it."
For once, she was silent. She made no effort to argue or defend herself.
"Nothing to say, Princess?" he growled. "Good. I'm done listening to your poison words. Cassandra, I think we're done here."
Cassandra scowled. "You're 'done' when Rapunzel says you're done."
"It's fine," Rapunzel interjected. "It—we're done." She stood and made her way back to the fire, letting Cassandra take her place once more.
The bodyguard stared down her nose at him. "You know, it might be smart not to isolate the one person here who might show you any sympathy whatsoever."
"I don't need her sympathy." He rolled his shoulders back in a show of stubbornness. "It's not like we're friends."
"That's the sad part." She crossed her arms. "You could have been."
"What, if I'd accepted my proper place as her pet alchemist at her beck and call, to be used when she needs help and ignored when she doesn't?" He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so. I'm worth more than that."
She humphed. "If you say so. Come on." She hauled him to his feet and over to the campfire, where the bald man was cooking.
He looked up as they came over, his golden earring flashing in the firelight. "Hi! We didn't get properly introduced. Name's Lance."
"Varian."
"I know. You're famous! Man, I could've only dreamed of having a reputation like yours at your age!"
"Lance!" Fitzherbert exclaimed. "We do not encourage children in a life of crime!"
"Right, sorry. Pancakes?" He held out a plate to Varian, who gave him a deadpan stare and shrugged his shoulders to draw attention to his still-bound hands. "Oh, right. Sorry."
"Maybe we could untie him for supper," the princess offered.
"Yeah, I don't think so." Cassandra shook her head. "Bad idea."
"What, we just feed him then?" the other man, the one with the hook, offered.
"You try to feed me, I'll bite your fingers off."
"See, this is exactly what I'm talking about!" Cassandra snapped.
The princess crossed her arms. "We can untie him."
The bodyguard groaned and untied him. He tried not to flinch at the feel of her hands on his wrists. She tied the length of rope around one of his wrists and the other end around hers.
He had to admit, the man was a good cook, almost as good as Uncle Hector. He could only stomach a few bites, though, as coming off of a panic attack didn't exactly give him a good appetite. He felt like he might be sick at any moment.
After supper, the white-haired warrior walked up to Cassandra. "I'd like to speak to Varian, if you don't mind."
"I do mind, actually."
Ms. Adira's dark eyes bored into Cassandra's as she towered over the shorter woman. "Let me rephrase. I need to talk to Varian."
"Mm, sorry, I don't think so. See, I don't trust you, and you already mentioned knowing his dad, so I'd rather you didn't have anything to do with him. I don't need you helping him escape."
"I have no intentions of setting him free. I just need to speak with him. If I need to ask the princess, I can. Technically she has final say in what happens to him even if you caught him, since she is your boss."
Cassandra glared but shoved Varian towards her, causing him to stumble over his feet. His hands had been retied, and he was unable to rebalance before collapsing into Ms. Adira's stomach. She quickly reached out to steady him. Her hands on his arms were not cruel or bruising. She set him back up and let go quickly. Most might not have noticed, but he recognized the way she suddenly let go as if physical contact pained her.
She had a touch aversion.
Motioning him over to a seat away from the others, she sat cross-legged and reached up a hand to steady him as he copied the movement, again releasing as soon as possible. Her head tilted inquisitively as she looked him over.
"I have to admit, you're not quite what I was expecting."
"What did you expect?"
She shrugged. "Quirin didn't exactly talk a lot in his letters, but he did mention you were a—oh, what was the phrase he used—'my bright-eyed genius.' He spoke highly of you. He just didn't say you were a tiny little snip of a boy with barely enough weight to stay on the ground in a strong breeze."
"He... said that?"
"Yep. Among other things. He was never overly affectionate, but he made an exception for you and your mom."
"Really?" He knew his dad loved him, but "affectionate" wouldn't have been the word he chose.
"Mm-hm. Getting a compliment out of him was like trying to drink rock powder. We were members of the Brotherhood together. Which I suppose makes me your aunt, in a weird way. Speaking of my brother, where is he? I know he wouldn't have let you come all this way by yourself, even if you broke out of jail."
They didn't tell her?
His lips tightened in a thin line, and he turned away.
"Varian?"
He shook his head. The thought of explaining his dad's fate to this warrior left him shivering. At least his enemies had given him the dignity of not calling him a murderer to her face.
Perhaps it was time to divert the conversation. "Why are you traveling with the princess?" he asked. He could guess, of course, but he wanted to change the subject, and it was the first thing he could think of.
"She's the Sundrop. I have to take her to the Dark Kingdom if we want to stop the black rocks. She can counteract their source, the Moonstone."
"How did you know it was her?"
"I saw her at the Battle of Old Corona."
Wait...
"She was able to control the black rocks."
What?
"Quirin wrote me a letter talking about her, so I came to see for myself."
She was there?
"Y-you we-were there," he gasped. Had all of the air suddenly left the Tree? She didn't seem affected. "You were there. At the fight."
She nodded. "Yes, why?"
The realization struck him like a cold wave on a hot day, though much less pleasant. "You could have stopped them," he whispered, even as his mind screamed for him to stop talking, this is dangerous, you don't know her. "You could have stopped them that day."
"Stopped them from what?"
Stop it!
"Stopped them from hurting me. Stopped them from torturing me!" His breathing accelerated against his will.
"...The Coronans?"
"Six months," he rasped. "I spent six months being abused. You could have stopped them. Stopped them from blinding me, beating me, breaking bones, burning me! You could have saved me. You were there!" He stared up at her, wild-eyed. "Did you know?"
Her mouth hung open in shock. "Varian, I had no idea. Really, I didn't! I didn't even know it was you the princess was fighting until today! She just told me! You-you're saying they abused you in prison?" Her eyes searched the marks on his face and throat, the paleness of his right eye, the way his shoulders hunched as if expecting someone to hit him.
He nodded, not trusting his voice. She was the only person aside from Uncle Hector he'd dared say as much to, and his instincts were screeching for him to back down, to stop digging a deeper hole for himself, because it could become his grave.
She shook her head. "I didn't know. I didn't know who she fought. I just followed her. I left Corona as soon as the fight was over."
"You could have checked," he spat angrily. "You could have gone looking for my dad! You could have asked who your precious Sundrop was fighting! You could have seen them hurting me!"
"You're right." She swallowed painfully. "You're right, and I'm sorry."
"Y—wait, what?"
"I'm sorry." Her eyes glistened. "You're right. I should have asked. If I'd known... well, I don't know what I would have done, but I never would have let them hurt you. I wouldn't have let them do this. Is that where all your scars came from?"
He nodded again.
She put her hand to her mouth like she'd be sick. If a warrior like Uncle Hector described her to be felt sick at this, he wasn't sure how to take that. "I'm so sorry. I was so excited to finally find the Sundrop that I didn't even stop to think. I hold myself at least partially responsible for what happened to you."
He couldn't believe his ears. She was apologizing? Without even knowing what had led him to do what he did? "What are you sorry for? I messed up! I did horrible things!"
"Maybe so. But no one does something like that without reason. Why did you?" Her dark eyes were searching, curious.
"I—I didn't see a way out," he whispered. "Everything hurt, and I was alone, and I lashed out. I was wrong."
"Why were you alone? Where was Quirin?"
He clamped his mouth shut again.
"Varian." She touched his chin—not harshly, not like Cassandra, and he tried not to jerk away—and tilted his head to look at her. "Listen, I am so sorry. If I could go back and change what I did, I would. Do you think you can ever forgive me?"
Tears slipped from his eyes. She gently reached up a hand to brush them away—softly, kindly; if she was touching him and she didn't like contact, then she was trying to be there for him—and he tried not to grimace as she accidentally touched the spot where Cassandra had struck him. "I don't know," he admitted. "I just... don't know yet. Six months is a long time to hurt."
"I know. I understand, and I don't expect you to forgive me immediately. Just know I want to make this right. I can't change what happened, but I won't let it happen again. I promise."
He wanted to plead with her not to make promises, especially since she didn't know the full story, but he stopped. She was like Uncle Hector. Could she be trusted? Did she keep promises?
"Why do—why do you want to help me?"
"We're family. And you're just a kid. This never should have happened."
That was what Uncle Hector told him.
Why? Why did all of the Brotherhood view him that way when everyone else saw a horrible villain who deserved to be punished? Why did they not insist he reap the consequences of his actions?
Because the consequences were wrong?
Your debt was paid the hard way.
He couldn't stop the tears. She saw more in him. Like Uncle Hector. Like Queen Arianna.
"Time's up." Cassandra's cold voice sent a tremor down his spine. She started to reach for Varian's arm to haul him to his feet, but Adira's sword slashed through the air between the two of them.
"I'll watch Varian," she offered cheerily, as if she hadn't almost severed Cassandra's hand. "Thank you very much."
"Yeah, that's not happening. I let you talk to him. I didn't say anything about letting you hold on to him."
"Is there a problem?" The princess stood and walked over to them.
"Actually, there is." Adira sheathed her sword. "I don't approve of the way your lady-in-waiting treats my nephew. I'd prefer it if I were the one allowed to keep an eye on him from here on out."
"Nephew?" both girls exclaimed at once.
Adira nodded. "Quirin is my brother. That makes me Varian's aunt and, in absence of his father, his guardian. And I don't like the way you treat him."
"I don't care what you like. He's my prisoner."
Adira turned to the princess. "I don't know if any of you bothered to notice, but Varian has a panic attack any time Short Hair gets near him or touches him. Unless you want him to suffer, I'd advise you to leave him with the one person here who actually cares about him. I don't want her anywhere around him."
Varian tried to choke back his laughter at the nickname, especially seeing the way it made Cassandra turn scarlet.
The bodyguard looked to the princess expectantly. "I don't know, Cass," she answered. "Adira may have a point. She can guard him."
Cassandra's mouth dropped open. "They're family! She's on his side!"
"My job is to get the princess to the Dark Kingdom," Adira argued. "That hasn't changed. The only thing I'm asking to switch is who watches Varian. Or does someone showing sympathy to a child bother you?"
"It'll be fine, Cass, really." The princess put a hand on her friend's shoulder as the woman gaped in rage. "I trust Adira."
"I don't," she hissed as she turned and stalked away. "When this blows up in our faces, don't say I didn't tell you so."
Rapunzel followed Cassandra, and Adira pulled some blankets out of her bag. "We should probably get some sleep. The rest of the trip is bound to be this way."
She stood and stepped behind Varian. He started to ask what she was doing but stopped as he felt the ropes on his hands slacken. She came around in front of him again and tied his wrists loosely.
"I'd leave you untied so you could sleep better, but I don't think that would gain us any popularity with Short Hair." She shrugged. "Sorry."
"It's fine." That was another thing he was, unfortunately, used to.
"And I meant what I said about not letting them hurt you again. As soon as the princess deals with the Moonstone, I'll make sure you're taken care of properly. We'll find Quirin and get you home, or wherever you want to go."
She looped the rope around her own wrist before collapsing on her blanket. He curled up at as far of a distance as the rope would allow and did the same. She may be the least hostile person here, but he still didn't trust her.
He wasn't about to be rude, though. "Good night, Ms. Adira."
A soft gasp came from her direction. Her shoulder shook. For a minute he thought she was crying. But she wasn't that sort, was she? Then he heard her laughter.
"Wh-what did you call me?"
"Sorry! Is it Mrs. Adira? Master Adira? Lady? Doctor? I don't know what your title is."
"Just Adira is fine. Or Aunt Adira, but you don't have to call me that. Sorry, that's probably weird. We just met."
"Oh, um..." He didn't know if he could say that yet. "Well, good night."
"Good night, Varian." She closed her eyes, and within seconds, her breathing deepened. He curled up and attempted to do the same.
Please hurry, Uncle Hector. He could only hope and pray his real guardian was still alive. Adira was nice, but he couldn't rely on her. Not yet. I don't know if I can do this on my own.
--------------------------
...I have nothing to say for myself except sorry. Except I'm really not.
This one had my record word count of over 8,000 as opposed to my standard 4,000!
As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!