Chapter Text
Varian stared purposelessly out of his bedroom window, the wind whipping at his hair as he leaned forward to rest his chin on the windowsill. He wished he could feel something, anything other than the burning hatred that he had somehow managed to subdue for the past few days. It hasn’t been easy.
The kindness of Princess Rapunzel and her friends seemed to know no bounds. Every day, it seemed like they had new sweets for him to try, people for him to meet, or other activities they devised to distract him from his grief. It was genuinely comforting at first, but Varian has come to dread the walks into town with Lance, picnics with Rapunzel, and reading The Tales of Flynn Rider with Eugene. Cassandra didn’t hang around him too much, but Varian imagined that even her presence would grow irksome after a while.
A particularly strong and icy blast of wind sent a red-faced and runny-nosed Varian retreating back into the room. Even though he had almost nearly gotten over his cold, he was still relatively frail. He fastened the window shut and slumped down against the wall, his thoughts returning to the princess and her friends.
He isn’t used to this. Quirin was a decent parent. He was a bit unsure of himself, stoic and strict, caring but distant, and above all, practically impossible to read. For the most part, Varian didn’t mind his father’s aloofness. Being as curious of a child he was, the independence was freeing, and even though Quirin wasn’t terribly attentive, Varian knew he was loved, despite not always hearing it straight from the source.
Princess Rapunzel, on the other hand, is the complete opposite of Quirin. Quirin was a good man, but a man of very few words, especially when it came to personal or emotional matters. Rapunzel and her friends are almost painfully emotional and earnest. Cassandra less so, but the rest of them certainly make up for her level-headed and solitary nature.
Lance can’t spend five minutes with Varian without letting him know how cute, smart, or little he thinks he is; Eugene tenses up whenever they spend time together, as though he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing and upsetting Varian; and Rapunzel’s already fiercely caring personality is exacerbated by Varian’s circumstances. The last seven times the two of them spoke, she ended the conversation by offering Varian a cupcake and a joint therapy session with herself and the royal physician, both of which were routinely declined.
It was all so strange. It was all so new. It was terrible.
Varian doesn’t want to feel better. He doesn't want to be distracted from his rage and despair with pastries and inventing apprenticeships (although his conversation with Xavier was very enjoyable). He wants to hate. No amount of spoiling from the princess would be able to suppress, resolve, or deter him from the war path his brain was silently fixed on. He knew it wasn’t the most rational mindset, but Varian wants King Frederic to hurt. He needs him to hurt. He just has to figure out the best course of action.
At first, Varian assumed that he couldn’t realistically get away with pulling another stunt like shredding the king’s portrait, but its destruction was shockingly a mere afterthought to Rapunzel. She gently reprimanded him about letting Ruddiger run wild around the castle and destroy things, but the object of destruction didn’t seem to matter to her at all.
It was easy. Too easy. If no one cared, why couldn’t he take things a step further? He was able to learn from conversations occurring around him that even Queen Ariana is quite upset with the king, so much so that outside of their royal duties and responsibilities, they are barely speaking to one another.
It’s a sign.
He could take things a step further.
Quirin is dead. King Frederic is responsible. Those are the facts of the matter. Tearing up a canvas that he likely doesn’t yet know or even care about at all is not enough.
Varian wasn’t sure what it would be, but he was certain and steadfast that the king deserved everything coming to him and more.
-
Hugo sat at a bench in the courtyard, mindlessly flipping through his leather-backed sketchbook and stewing. He stared at the mug of coffee Not-Flynn-Rider left for him, watching the steam twist up into the air and disappear.
“Stupid community service,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t know why I ever agreed to it.”
He paused to take a long sip from the mug, then rather aggressively placed it back down onto the arm of the bench, splashing a few droplets onto the ground. “And that…” he cleared his throat, “Is the crappiest cup of coffee I have ever tried.”
Hugo let out a deep sigh and leaned back, letting his head hang back over the edge of the bench. He sat in silence for over a minute, but the boredom was starting to eat away at the very little patience he had left. Although he knew it was inherently juvenile, and that it would damage his reputation as a serious criminal if anyone saw, Hugo balled his hands at his sides and kicked at the ground for a few seconds.
He relished in the release for a moment, but stopped short after he hit something too heavy and warm to be grass.
“The hell?” Hugo scrambled up onto the bench, staring daggers at the plump raccoon that had made itself comfortable in a patch of grass at the edge of the bench’s front legs. It noticed Hugo’s sudden movements and chittered anxiously, but instead of running off, the raccoon stood up on its hind legs and pawed at the bench mere inches from Hugo.
“Go on…” Hugo urged, gesturing in the opposite direction, “Go on, get out of here.” He waited for the critter to comply, but when it started to climb up onto the bench beside him, Hugo could only think of one thing to do.
“Agh! Are you serious? I told you… to get… off…!” With a grunt of effort and just enough force not to cause it any injury, Hugo kicked the raccoon off of the side of the bench and a foot or so away, knocking his coffee mug over in the process.
“Spectacular.” Hugo huffed impatiently and leaned over to collect the mug, not bothering to pick the blades of grass out of the few inches of coffee remaining inside.
“Hey!”
Hugo snapped his head around at the shout, and he squinted at the figure awkwardly approaching from the opposite direction. As they got closer, Hugo identified that their gaze was fixated on the raccoon and not him, so he turned his attention back to the sketchbook he had set aside a few minutes prior.
Still, he couldn’t bring himself to fully ignore the scene unfolding before him. He peeked over the edge of his sketchbook as the figure, a scrawny boy with short black hair and round blue eyes, sped past him and knelt down beside the raccoon, which was cowering beside a bush. Hugo felt a twang of guilt for kicking the poor creature, but that guilt quickly turned to horror as the boy lifted it into his lap and began to dote on it as though it were a house cat, speaking to it softly and giving it gentle pets. Eventually, he let it jump down and stood up, but the raccoon followed closely behind each step the boy took.
Hugo tried to avert his eyes from the rather pathetic display, but the sound of approaching footsteps and the irritated look the boy donned as soon as he started back in Hugo’s direction was confirmation that this interaction was inevitable.
“You know, you really shouldn’t touch those things.”
“I know what you did.”
Hugo and the black-haired boy stared at each other, both annoyed at having spoken at the same time.
Just as he was about to open his mouth, Hugo stood up and wagged a finger at the shorter boy before repeating his statement. “Raccoons, you shouldn’t play with them.”
The black-haired boy just stared up at him blankly.
“They carry stuff, you know… like… like, diseases. They’re not house pets.”
After still not receiving a response, Hugo folded his arms and rolled his eyes. “What is it, short stack? Or do you just like wasting people’s time?”
Finally, he spoke. “I-I…I know what you did.”
“Sorry?”
“I saw you kick Ruddiger,” the boy clarified. “You kicked him so hard he got the wind knocked out of him! And, for your information, yes, he is a house pet. Fully domesticated.”
Hugo just shook his head.
“Well?”
“That thing’s a bloody hazard.”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
“Is not!”
“Is that so?” Hugo chuckled incredulously. “Look at the state of you, man! I’d say whatever disease that little beast transmitted has already done quite a bit of damage.”
The boy narrowed his eyes at Hugo. “The ‘state of me’? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Kid, you really ought to look in a mirror. Because if you’re telling me you always look this… disheveled, you really ought to fire the guy that cuts your hair.”
“Listen!”
Hugo watched as the boy’s tone quickly shifted from irritation to meek desperation.
“I’m having the worst month of my life, and the last thing I need is you bothering me or my emotional support animal, okay?”
Still, he couldn’t let go of spite. “Emotional support animal? Come off it! He was the one bothering me, and if he does it again, you’re going to need a life support animal, got me, goggles?”
To hammer the point in, Hugo rapped on the rim of the goggles sitting atop the boy’s messy black hair. He stared at him with a satisfied smirk, but reluctantly softened when he noticed the pained look in his eyes.
“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt him or anything. Just keep him out of my sight, alright? I’m not the biggest fan of animals.”
The black-haired boy nodded slowly, his eyes still angry. “Whatever.” He paused. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new to Corona?”
Hugo grinned, eager to finally have someone to boast to. “You could say that. You’ve never heard of me? No?”
“No.”
“Well,” Hugo ran a hand through his bangs and posed. “I’m Hugo. Hugo Rottewange.”
The boy shrugged.
“Nothing, really? You’ve never heard of Hugo Rottenwange? The…thief…?”
“Nope.”
“Seriously? They say I’m this generation’s Flynn Rider.”
“And who is ‘they’?”
Hugo scoffed. “…people.”
“If you say so.”
Without waiting for a response, the boy picked up Ruddiger, turned on his heels, and started to walk off.
“Wait!” Hugo called after him. “I told you who I am, so who are you?”
Not even bothering to look at him, the boy slowly and deliberately tipped over Hugo’s coffee mug as he walked past. “Nobody important.”
-
“Hey, uh, Rapunzel?” Cassandra lightly rapped on the princess’ bedroom door before entering. “Can I talk to you about something?”
Rapunzel looked up from the easel she was working at and smiled warmly. “Sure!” She tucked her paintbrush behind her ear and motioned for Cassandra to sit on the ground beside her. “What is it?”
Cassandra obliged and awkwardly sat cross-legged across from Rapunzel. “Okay. So, it’s about—”
“—It’s about Varian, isn’t it,” Rapunzel concluded.
“How did you know?”
“Ever since we brought him here, he’s all anybody has been talking about.”
Cass sighed heavily. “Yeah. Uh… so, there’s something you need to know about him. Do you remember what happened to your father’s portrait? The one that was stored in the room he’s staying in?”
Rapunzel nodded. “Uh-huh. Ruddiger shredded it up, didn’t he?”
“Well, no. No, he didn’t.” Cassandra reached into the satchel that hung across her body and pulled out a small thin object wrapped in a lace handkerchief. She extended a hand to Rapunzel, who looked on expectantly. “Take it.”
“What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
Rapunzel slowly unfolded the fabric and picked up the tool. “It’s my father’s letter opener.”
Cassandra nodded. “Yes, it is.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
“Really?”
She winced. “Sorry.”
Cass snorted. “You’re really gonna make me say it.” She rolled her eyes. “Rapunzel, Ruddiger didn’t tear up the king’s portrait. Varian did. I saw that letter opener under the bed when we went into the room that day.”
Rapunzel’s heart sank into her stomach. “ I can’t believe he would—” She paused and sighed deeply. “…No, that’s not true. I can believe it. It… It actually doesn’t surprise me that would do something like that. I should have been smarter. He blames my father for what happened to Quirin, and completely freaks out whenever I so much as bring him up.”
Cassandra shook her head. “That’s what Eugene and I were worried about—”
“Eugene?” A small frown tugged at the corner of Rapunzel’s lips. “Wait, Eugene knew about this and he didn’t say anything?”
“Look, he wanted to tell you. We both did, but we didn’t know how. We weren’t sure how you’d react.”
“I know.”
“Anyway, I was saying that we’re concerned that Varian might do something like that again.” Cass bit her lip, unsure of how Rapunzel would respond to her next statement. “I… I think he might do something more drastic.”
Rapunzel swallowed hard. “Drastic how?”
Cassandra wouldn’t look at her.
Another wave of unease washed over Rapunzel. “Cassandra, no.” She shuddered, then folded her hands in her lap. “You’re reading too much into this. Varian…” Tears started forming in her eyes. “Varian’s not capable of doing anything… drastic.”
“Raps, we don’t know that,” Cassandrs said softly.
“Varian and I trust each other! Besides… he’s just a little boy. He wouldn’t do that.”
“Rapunzel,” Cassandra tried to be patient. “I know this isn’t exactly pleasant news, but we have to be realistic. He probably wouldn’t do anything drastic in a normal situation, but grief can drive people to make poor choices.”
The princess was silent.
“I know he’s just a kid, but we saw just how destructive he could be the first time we visited Old Corona. And he wasn’t even trying! I just want you to be prepared for a reality where we might have to face that possibility.”
Rapunzel nodded solemnly, Varian’s words from the night she told him about Quirin repeating in her mind.
“The king knew about the rocks! He lied to you and he lied to me! He lied to everyone! It’s his fault my father’s—It’s all his fault. It should have been him!”
“Rapunzel!”
She didn’t realize that Cassandra had a hand on her shoulder and was gently shaking her.
“Oh. Sorry. I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
She still believed wholeheartedly that if Varian did ever take things to the extreme, she’d be able to talk him down, but Rapunzel knew that she’d be lying if she told herself that there wasn’t a possibility that things might get to that point.
“About how you might be right.”
-
“Hey, little buddy, Eugene’s got something to show you.” Lance peeked his head through Varian’s doorway, only to find him on the floor, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. “Uh, Varian…? What’re you doing?”
“Recharging my social battery,” Varian replied matter-of-factly. “I think I met the most annoying person on earth earlier today.”
“Oh?”
Varian rolled over onto his side and sat up. “He’s the worst,” he sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “I’m completely exhausted just from interacting with him for the few minutes that I did.”
Lance chuckled and sat down on the floor beside Varian. “You didn’t get out much when you lived in Old Corona, did you?”
“No.” Varian let his hands fall at his sides. “I mean, I didn’t want to. I had my routine. My alchemy. My Da—” A sharp pain in his heart prevented him from completing the statement, but not before Varian started to tear up.
Lance dropped his gaze, instantly remembering the assignment he received from Rapunzel and Eugene a week prior. He knew from the very first night they brought him to Corona that things would never be the same for them. For all of them.
He had always intended to be as kind as he possibly could to Varian, but the more comfortable Varian became with them, the more likely it is that he’d answer the questions Rapunzel was planning to ask him about what he knows about the black rocks, or whether Quirin knew more than he was letting on.
The past week was full of moments just like this one, with Varian nearly shutting down at the mention of his father. It was clear that he still wasn’t ready to talk about it, let alone answer any of Rapunzel’s questions.
Varian stared at Lance with a puzzled expression, then drew in a deep breath before continuing. “I… Well, I-I kept myself busy. Besides, Old Corona is a pretty small town. Everyone kind of knew each other, and it’s not like there was anybody else my age there. Plus, all the adults thought I was a nuisance. Not that I blame them. I did blow up the water maine. Multiple times.”
“Ah, I see. So, you’re not used to hanging around people your age.”
Varian laughed weakly. “Try people in general.”
“I bet I can fix that!” Eugene walked up beside Varian and put an arm around him. “I’ve got your surprise right outside.”
“Fix what?” Varian slowly stood up, suddenly a bit nervous.
“Your unfamiliarity with people your own age! I think having someone your own age might help you feel more comfortable. Just ‘cause at some point, Rapunzel, Cass, Lance, and I will have to get back to our normal lives, and won’t be able to be with you all the time. ”
Varian shrugged. “I guess.”
Eugene laughed softly. “Come on, don’t be shy. He’s looking forward to meeting you.”
“Oi! Don’t put words in my mouth, Fitzherbert!”
Before either Eugene or Varian could take a step, a tall blond boy with piercing green eyes strolled into the room. “I’m here because the only other option was to sit in prison for the next ten days. You didn’t exactly give me a choice.”
“Hey now, you said you’d work with me here! Can you at least attempt to be friendly?” Eugene frantically looked between the two boys. “Hugo, this is Varian.”
Varian’s eyes went wide in horror, then narrowed in rage. “You!?!”
Hugo smiled and batted his eyes, taking an obnoxiously long time to place his hands in his pockets in faux bashfulness. “Me!”