Shock Collar

by Antiquepearls

Summary:

In the dead of night, Varian of Old Corona went missing, leaving behind a confused and heartbroken family left to assume he ran away.

Thirteen years later, the horrifying truth is revealed through a young girl Rapunzel meets in the middle of the woods.

Notes:

Tags will be added as the story progresses, but keep in mind the Dead Dove tag. Nothing in this story will be explicit but abuse and trauma is the focal point of the story. Nothing is condoned and there will be a happy ending. Maybe….

Chapter 1

The full moon hung high in the sky, bathing the Corona in a milky glow. There was just enough light for Rapunzel’s path, but enough darkness to keep her hidden. She liked it this way. As much as she loved the sun, the brightness, the people of Corona, sometimes Rapunzel just wanted to be alone shrouded in darkness. She wanted the fresh air, just not everything that accompanied it in the daytime. So she had gotten quite used to nighttime walks to clear her head. Corona revolved around the sun, they rose and set by the star. By nightfall, it was dead.

And in a way, so was she.

Night was when she wasn’t busy, night was the time for her thoughts to grip her like vines she couldn’t get untangled from. The exhaustion of the day, the weariness of her heart, the person she missed so dearly, all hung on her heart this time of night. She couldn’t escape the vines with incoherent and jumbled thoughts- no. She had to carefully untangle them, slowly, to escape.

The princess made her way to a thick forested area bordering the edge of Old Corona and a town she couldn’t quite remember the name of. Quirin had mentioned it, a ghost town no one lived in anymore. A place the Old Coronans sought refuge in and abandoned almost instantly.

Like someone else she knew.

She sighed as she made her way into the dark forest. She knew Eugene wouldn’t feel comfortable with her being in the woods on her own, but she had Pascal, and her frying pan. Honestly, she knew Quirin wouldn’t feel comfortable with her being on her own, and would possibly be offended that she snuck out on the night she spent at his home. But she knew they would understand, she needed to be alone, to clear her thoughts.

Tomorrow was the thirteenth anniversary of his disappearance, after all.

The moonlight was practically hidden by the thick spring foliage and long, gnarled branches. She could barely see her path of grass and wildflowers beneath her, she could barely hear any nocturnal animals. The only sounds to keep her grounded was a river softly rushing not too far. It was quiet, empty, and dark. She liked that. Normally she didn’t, normally she loved the bright and busy streets of Corona, but Old Corona after dark had a special charm she clung to in times like these.

She wondered if he ever took night time walks in these woods.

Her companion squeaked sadly on her shoulder, almost like he could read her mind.

“I know Pascal, I miss him too.”

Flowers and grass softened the pathway, but she could still hear leftover dead leaves and dirt crunch under her feet. The sound was gentle, soothing, calming. The calm helped her sort through her thoughts.

It had been thirteen years since her baby brother, one of her favorite people in the world, the person who had grown so much by her side, ran away. No notice, no hints to his dissatisfaction at home, nothing but a note at his bedside and an open window.

The day prior he had celebrated with her, together they found a way to keep the hot water tanks from rusting (well, he found a way, but Rapunzel offered ideas. That counted for something right?) he had goofed off with Eugene, joking comfortably with his brother, without a care in the world. It was so normal, so domestic. He was happy and safe.

(It was like finally everything would be okay in her life. She had friends, family, she was loved, she had a place in the world.)

But then, the young man didn’t show up for breakfast. Or lunch. By dinner time, his door was opened to reveal a panicked Ruddiger left alone, and a note stating he was unsatisfied with his life in the castle, and that he was off to find his own destiny- alone. And that if they ever tried to look for him, he would never come back home.

Rapunzel had never been so heartbroken. Aside from, well, when he had betrayed her before. But at least that time she understood why. This time, even a decade later, she still just didn’t understand.

What had she done? What had she not done? Why so sudden? What could she have done to make her dear friend feel more loved, more wanted? What did she do to push him away? Why did he run away? Why did he hide his feelings for so long? Why? Why why why why why why?

Why did her brother cut himself out of their lives, expertly avoiding them for years, only to send the occasional letter and gift to his niece and nephew? Why did he punish them like this? What had they done? What could they do to get him back and see him safe at home?

Was he okay? Was he safe? Was he warm and fed? Did he have a roof over his head? Was he happy?

The heartbroken sister’s thoughts were cut short by a new sound. Footsteps. But not her own rhythmic ones. These were fast and sparse, like they were running and stopping.

Rapunzel stopped, and hid behind a massive tree stump with aged bark, and listened. Pascal leaned closer to her, trying to listen in as well. Who could be out here so late at night? And why were they running?

A few seconds went by, painfully quiet, the only sounds she could hear were the beating of hers and Pascal’s hearts, and the rushing river. And the frantic breathing of someone only a mere few feet away.
With just the tiniest slivers of moonlight, Rapunzel could see the figure of a small person- a child, frantically climbing up a tree with skill. The child disappeared into the leaves, more akin to a squirrel than a human.

Rapunzel was a little jealous, she wished she could climb trees like that. But with her hair now only just past her shoulders, she wouldn’t be able to pull that off.

Still, the child was small, and yet they were out in a heavily forested area in the dead of night. Rapunzel was fine, she could defend herself from an animal or bandit. But a child? Who was letting their kid run off like that? Why was a kid running off like that?

Were they running from something?

Rapunzel made her way to the tree the child was hiding in, and contemplated her approach. She didn’t want to scare them off, but if they needed someone, a helping hand, then she was more than happy to provide for them.

The quiet forest was interrupted by the rustling of leaves as Rapunzel slowly approached the oak. She couldn’t see much, but there was the faintest silhouette behind the leaves. It moved closer, studying the princess. Her presence was clear. She hoped they didn’t run away.

Gently, hesitantly, Rapunzel spoke “Hello, I’m Rapunzel. Who are you?”

There was a pause. A gust of wind blew the leaves enough for Rapunzel to make out more of a figure, comfortably sitting along the branches as if she were made for them. Long dark hair in her face and large eyes, peering at her. The two stared at eachother. Rapunzel reaching out, and the child studying her. The child, sizing her up. Rapunzel smiled softly.

 

She was sure the mysterious child wouldn’t say anything, perhaps even run off, but then a soft voice filtered through the leaves “I’m Eliza.”

Pascal squeaked in greeting, and the child, quick as
a black rock, hopped down from her hiding place.

In an instant, a tall and lanky child stood a foot away from her. She couldn’t be any older than her own children, who were fourteen. Rapunzel had to guess she was eleven or twelve. She was dressed simply with a green corset and a plain brown dress, freeing enough for her to move around without restriction. Her dark hair shone in the moonlight, long and wild. Dirt dusted her features. She was barefoot, and held a dagger in her hands.

And she had painfully familiar big blue eyes.

Rapunzel swallowed down that thought. She was just being nostalgic, sentimental.

Before Rapunzel could properly greet her, the child’s eyes lit up in a familiar fashion, and asked “is that a chameleon?”

Rapunzel smiled “Pascal? Yes, he’s a chameleon. Even if my husband still refers to him as a frog.” She playfully rolled her eyes, and Pascal puffed his chest in pride.

The child giggled “Frogs and chameleons aren’t the same thing. Chameleons are lizards, frogs are amphibians.”
Rapunzel chuckled “try telling that to my husband, he still won’t listen.”

Eliza reached a hand out, as if to pet him, but quickly retreated her hand, as if she had been burned. Rapunzel could see the apprehension in her eyes. “It’s okay, you can hold him if you want, he doesn’t bite.” She plucked pascal from his perch and held him out in her palms.

Hesitantly the young girl held a palm out, and Pascal quickly made his way over to his new perch.
Blue eyes lit up, and she raised a finger to pet his head. Pascal leaned into the affection.

“Daddy won’t let me have any pets.” She sighed.

“Aw that’s a shame. Why not?”

The girl shrugged, continuing to pet the chameleon. “I think he just doesn’t wanna take care of one, he’s got the baby, my brother. And he’s real busy working. I tried asking father for one but he said no too. And father’s word is law, so.” Eliza pouted slightly, and almost sarcastically commented “Father knows best.”

The princess smiled sympathetically “yeah I get that, strict parents are no fun, trust me.”

Eliza fixated on the chameleon in her hands, but even in the darkness, Rapunzel could see the frustration in her eyes. She could also see her debating with herself. Perhaps debating on whether or not she should reveal more information. A battle Rapunzel herself was too used to having.

“I know they just want what’s best for me. I just-“ Eliza paused, looking up to the moon. ”I think they might be wrong sometimes.”

“What do you mean?” The older woman asked softly, itching to place a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

The younger sighed “They just- I don’t think father is always right like he says he is. And I think daddy knows that, but he won’t say anything.”

Before Rapunzel could probe further, because her suspicions may be correct and this was a child in need of help, Eliza’s mood shifted, almost reverent. She changed the topic of conversation with a quick “the moon is really pretty tonight.”

Rapunzel decided to play along “It really is. Have you ever been to Selene? The Dark Kingdom? It glows even brighter there.”

Eliza looked back to her, and smiled wistfully “nah, but my daddy told me about it. I wanna go someday.”

Rapunzel smiled, and the two began walking together in tandem through the thick forest. Eliza seemed to know her way around, expertly weaving between thick and thin trees, avoiding roots, and guiding Rapunzel through.

Eliza seemed to know the woods like the back of her hand, placing palms on the trees like she was reading them. Stopping briefly to listen to the wind rustle the grass and leaves. Occasionally, she’d scamper up a tree like a squirrel, hopping into the branches like she couldn’t resist it, and then she’d playfully hang from the branches like a sloth, long black hair draping over Rapunzel’s head as they giggled. Sometimes she’d jump or climb from tree to tree like a monkey, only to jump off with a perfect landing. One time she climbed up a tall tree and disappeared for a few seconds, then only to playfully shout a warning and land directly on top of Rapunzel, the two soon bursting into a fit of giggles that lit up the night.

It was like the forest was her friend. Rapunzel was amazed.

The chat about Selene quickly turned into a discussion about Rapunzel’s travels throughout the world. Eliza had asked if she had been anywhere other than Selene, and seemed amazed that Rapunzel had seemingly been everywhere.

“My family travels a lot, Father says we have to be nomadic.”

‘Have to be?’ No, don’t probe too much Rapunzel.
“Being nomadic sounds fun, I bet it’s nice to travel and see the world all the time.”

“Yeah, it is! But daddy doesn’t like going out a whole lot, I usually stay with him back at camp. I’ve only ever seen a few cities.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It’s alright, I like being around him, he’s my favorite person ever. And it’s nice to have a home to stay in, even for a little bit.”

Well that was a little depressing. “I agree, nothing beats being at home. I love seeing the world, but there’s nothing like being here in Corona, especially with my family.”

Eliza’s face twisted, the easy atmosphere souring so very slightly.

“You’re Coronan.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. It was quiet, to herself.

Rapunzel was caught off guard, but the child seemed to pick up on the uneasy vibe, and quickly plastered a small smile on her face.

“I’m the Princess Of Corona, actually.”

The smile grew tense.

Who was this kid?

A few seconds passed, an unreadable look in Eliza’s eyes. Almost calculating. So much like-

“What’s Corona like?”

That was, quite possibly, Rapunzel’s favorite question. She excitedly rambled about the sun kingdom. How beautiful it was, how lush the greenery looked, how amazing the food tasted, how nice the people were, how amazing her kingdom was and was becoming. How with each passing day she learned from the mistakes of her father, and worked to make the monarchy a system to help the people, and to help her kingdom succeed.

Rapunzel loved her kingdom, and she was excited to get to share that love with someone who was new to it.

She may have gotten a little carried away as she talked, noticing her throat was a bit dry when she talked about Xavier’s forging classes, but the young girl listened with rapt attention, hanging onto every word. It was like she was fascinated by the concept of Corona.

“I like knives, does he make knives?”

Rapunzel beamed “he makes all sorts of weapons! I could see if I could get you into one of his classes, he’d be happy to have a new pupil.”

Eliza bit her lip, eyes apprehensive (no Rapunzel don’t focus on how similar those eyes were. Don’t focus on how those slight bunny teeth gnawed on her bottom lip so similarly to-)

“I don’t think we’re gonna be staying in Corona a long time.” She said quietly.

Rapunzel felt a little sad. Both because someone was missing out on the wonders of her kingdom, and because she was starting to become quite fond of the child. She was already sad to see her new friend go.

The two must have been too wrapped up in the conversation, because a twig snapped under the young girl’s bare feet and she hissed in pain. Eliza lowered into a crouch, nursing her injured foot. Rapunzel lowered herself as well, ready to come to her aid, before she quickly insisted “it’s okay I’m okay, don’t worry. Just give me a second and I'll be fine.”

Rapunzel cooed, maternal instincts flooding through her veins. “You could be hurt, just let me look at it.”
The girl grit her teeth, and continued to insist she was fine, but Rapunzel wasn’t listening. Pascal made his way from Eliza’s shoulder to Rapunzel’s pocket, and pulled out a match. Rapunze scraped it against the bark, and the growing light illuminated both their faces.

It illuminated blue eyes and constellations of freckles. Familiar blue eyes and-

Rapunzel pushed that thought down and tended to the girls foot, who apprehensively lowered her hackles and tilted her ankle to reveal a gash lining the bottom of her toes. An injury Rapunzel was rather used to.

She smiled “it’s okay, I can patch this up quickly so you don’t have to worry about infection, it’s not too bad, you can probably walk on it as long as you take it easy.”

It pained Rapunzel’s heart greatly to see the apprehension on the child’s face, she was hesitant to be cared for. It seemed she didn’t want to be cared for.

The forest grew quiet, not even crickets were chirping, and the moon had lowered enough so the only light was the small flame in Rapunzel’s hand. A chill had set on, and the child shivered, her dress not providing any warmth.

Rapunzel rested a warm hand on Eliza’s shoulder, and squeezed. She hoped the young girl could read her eyes, that she wanted to help. The way Rapunzel could read Eliza’s eyes, that she was scared to be helped.

This poor child. A small part of Rapunzel was admittedly bummed that she had a family to go back to. Rapunzel wanted to pluck her from this dark forest and take her to Quirin’s massive fireplace and brush her hair and sing songs to her. Rapunzel wanted to give her the love she worried she may be lacking at home.

Had her parents even noticed she was missing yet?

Eliza slumped against the tree, and lifted her foot up. Rapunzel took that as an invitation and pulled out the gauze she had brought with her. A barefoot princess could never be too careful.

As Rapunzel worked, Eliza’s voice softly, morosely, picked up. Her eyes were downcast, and her hackles back up.

“I’m Saporian.”

She said it like it was a bad thing, like Rapunzel would refuse to help her when given that information.

What a ridiculous, exhausted notion.

Rapunzel smiled “Kennen Sie einen alten Saporianer?”

Eliza’s eyes lit up, a familiar excitement and disbelief shining in them. She quirked her brow and smiled “vielleicht ein wenig. Schließlich ist es nur mein Muttersprache.”

Rapunzel smiled even harder, happy to know that the language hadn’t died, and was living on. Saporian was a beautiful language after all. She chuckled a bit at the girl's sass, as it was clear with the smooth and easy way she spoke, and the slight accent, that this was most likely her first language.

“Ich weiß nur wenig, mein Freund hat es mir beigebracht. Es ist eine wunderschöne Sprache.”

Eliza smiled even brighter, pain forgotten. “Mein Vater hat es mir beigebracht. Ich spreche es viel au Hause.”

Rapunzel finished wrapping the small injury, and Eliza wiggled her toes, seemingly over the pain. Rapunzel rose from the ground, joints aching, and offered her hand. Eliza got up effortlessly and painlessly. Ah, to be young.

“Ich wünschte, ich wüsste mehr.”

Eliza climbed up the tree she had been leaning against, making herself comfortable on a massive branch. “I wish I could teach you. But I tried to teach Father and it didn’t work, I’m not good at that kinda thing.”

Rapunzel sat at the stump below her, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable. “So it’s just your dad that knows Saporian?” She asked. Eliza hummed “yeah, which is funny. He’s not even Saporian, Father is. I mean, Father knows Ancient Saporian, but not as much as me and Daddy. He knows a lot of other languages though.”

“He must be very smart.”

“He seems to think so.” Eliza muttered sarcastically.

Rapunzel laughed slightly. There truly was nothing like the sass of a young teenager, especially when aimed at their parents. But a small pit of dread formed in her stomach. At the mention of this Father.

Eugene had good gut instincts. More often than not, if he got a feeling about someone, he was usually right. But Rapunzel wasn’t like that. She could get gut feelings, but they were always positive. Even if she didn’t like someone immediately, she tried to give them a chance, to ignore the rare pit of dread.

But she felt as though she shouldn’t ignore this pit of dread. She decided to probe just a little further.

“What are your Father and Dad like? He sounds a lot like my dad. Always thinks he’s right, stubborn, but has a good heart and just wants to do right by others.”

Eliza hummed and swung her feet as she settled comfortably into the tree, looking completely at home in the branches and leaves. “Dad’s my favorite person in the world.” She smiled wistfully “he’s my best friend. He’s always there for me, he looks out for me, he makes me laugh, he does my hair in the morning, he teaches me things. He- he protects me. He’s kinda dumb and nervous sometimes but he’s really smart and nice, I think you’d like him, I think he’d like you.”

Rapunzel smiled, the thought entered the back of her mind, but she shoved it down quickly. “I think I would.” She was being completely honest. “What about your Father?”

Eliza’s smile dropped, but a loving look on her face remained. “He’s a little more serious but he has to be. He’s-“ she paused, contemplating “he’s got a lot of responsibilities, so he’s not always around. And he has high standards so he can be strict. But he plays with my brother a lot. And he really loves us.”

Before Rapunzel could say anything, Eliza pulled her knees up to her chest, she tilted her head so her hair covered her face. But with the match’s light, she could see her looking forlornly at the distance.

“I love him, but I’m worried. He’s, he’s not always the nicest. He’s been hurt a lot, and I that makes him want to hurt other people.” She looked to Rapunzel and quickly corrected herself “not that he’s ever hurt me! He would never do that. It’s just, he’s not always- he’s not always very nice. I think there’s more to the world than he knows. I think people are better than he thinks they are.”

Overwhelming sympathy filled Rapunzel’s heart. It seemed this child had a father far too similar to Rapunzel’s own “mother.”

“I get that Eliza. I really do. I had a mother who told me the world was a scary place, and that everyone out there would hurt me. But I found out later that she was actually a lot more dangerous than the people she made me fear.”

Eliza went silent, the air tense and cold. Had Rapunzel crossed a line? She had just been trying to reach out to someone who’s experience may have been similar to hers, to offer the help she hadn’t gotten until too late. Would Eliza run off?

“Father would never hurt me.” It was a statement, no arguments allowed.

Rapunzel sighed “I know.”

Did she? What did she know? Who was this child?

More tense silence.

“I agree with you. The world is a lot more beautiful than some people believe. People are so much more than you could ever expect. There are so many people in this world who are unbelievably good. For every bad person you meet, a person who will hurt you, there’s someone else out there that will pick you back up. And there are people who want to hurt others who eventually see the light, and help others. I’ve seen it all, Eliza. Trust me. You’re right.”

Rapunzel didn’t feel it as much as she felt it, but Eliza smiled at her, warm and bright. Her eyes soft and loving. Rapunzel smiled back.

After a moment, Eliza’s smile turned playful “Lösch das Streichholz. Es Wird Den Baum Verbrennen. Ich habe keine Lust, die Leche der Prinzessin aus einem brennenden Wald zu schleppen.”

Rapunzel giggled, and blew out the flame. Darkness enveloped them again, but she could see the sky behind to turn a deep blue as the sun rose. Eliza noticed it too, and climbed higher up the tree, peering on her toes to look up at the early morning sky.

Eliza sighed, and looked down. Her dark hair forming a curtain around her, arms gripping the large tree. Despite the darkness, Rapunzel could see her. Once again, the easy atmosphere shifted. A chill set on, everything was dead silent. Eliza was downcast. “I have to get back home before my dad freaks out. It’s a big day today, Princess.”

Rapunzel smiled assuringly. “I understand, you need to get some rest. Do you want me to walk you home?”

Eliza shook her head, she refused to look at her, choosing instead to peer at the slowly brightening sky.

“Will I see you again?” The princess asked softly.

Eliza looked down, the two made eye contact. The girl, the child, looked painfully sad. Rapunzel desperately wanted to climb that tree and envelop the clearly hurting child into a hug. To take her home with her, where she would be safe and loved.
The child spoke, much more somber than before. Her eyes were full of guilt. With a voice that sounded like a death knell, she bid her goodbye. “You’re a really nice lady Princess Rapunzel. You don’t deserve to die.”

Then, she leapt from one tree to the other, expertly climbing and jumping away from Rapunzel, towards the end of the woods.

The only sound was hers and Pascal’s hearts beating. She looked to her friend, he looked to her. Worried.

Who was this child?

But she wasn’t worried for herself, no. She was worried for the young girl who was just a little too skinny. For the girl who stated “father knows best” about a man who had possibly hurt people. For the girl who said she didn’t have a home. For the girl who was reluctant to be cared for. For the girl who was running around the woods in the middle of the night. For the girl who briefly showed the weight of the world on her shoulders. For the girl who assumed she wouldn’t be cared for because she was Saporian. For the girl who seemed to know something Rapunzel didn’t, something grave. For the girl who seemed too much like someone she used to know. Someone she had been thinking about a lot lately.

She hoped the dad that she seemed to view rather highly of was taking good care of her. She hoped she’d meet Eliza again, and maybe meet this dad and father of hers. She just wanted to make sure she was okay.

Pascal raised a little green hand to her cheek, and she leaned into the comfort. She made her way to a massive oak, and inspired, began to climb, pascal clinging to her hair the entire way. It was a struggle, but she hadn’t lost the ability after all.

The two made their way to the top right as the sun began to rise in all its glory. The sky was painted in vibrant oranges and yellows, bathing everything in a golden glow. The river sparkled from her vantage point. Soft orange warmth wrapped around her, and she made herself comfortable at the top of the treeline. She smiled bittersweetly. She was here for a reason.

Rapunzel pulled out yet another match, and opened up another pocket. She pulled out a folded blue lantern, a small thing with crinkled blue paper and a painted Brotherhood symbol on the front. It wasn’t perfect, but she made it herself.

They didn’t send out lanterns for him. No matter how much she wanted them to, they didn’t. That didn’t stop her from sending out one of her own, however. A soft blue one. Maybe it wouldn’t guide him home, maybe he would ignore it, maybe he would never see it in the sky. But maybe, just maybe, he would see it and be reminded of just how much he was loved.

Rapunzel struck the match and lit the lantern.

“Please come home, Varian.” She whispered, tears thick in her throat.

A tear fell, and she set the lantern free. The blue beacon floating off into the warm and bright distance.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Summary:

Eugene dwells on the past, Rapunzel brings up a mysterious little girl she met in the woods, arguments are exchanged, tears are shed, and some eggs are burnt somewhere around there.

Notes:

Finished writing this and realized I forgot Pascal. He’s napping upstairs.

In the dead of night, Eugene lay awake. Insomnia was no stranger to the prince. He was far too familiar with laying awake, staring at the ceiling as minutes passed and the moon lowered in the sky. Even years later, his body was still used to being Flynn Rider, a man who stayed up and used the cover of night to perform jobs. Flynn Rider was practically nocturnal. Eugene Fitzherbert, however, had to be well-rested and awake at 7 am. But obviously, that wasn’t going to happen.

The night was quiet, peaceful, serene. The stars were visible from the windows and the spring air was oddly warm for such a late hour. The kingdom was silent, not a single noise to be heard. The castle was quiet as well, Eugene could only hear his own footsteps and the quiet murmuring of guards as he wandered the hallways. Even the guards seemed bored with the complete lack of action. It was a rare night where everything seemed calm. Eugene wandered around, his guard completely down. It was nice, not to worry anymore. To spend his nights at ease.

He had half a mind to go pester Varian. The young boy was often awake at this hour. Which usually, Eugene didn’t encourage, wanting Varian to get the rest he needed. But if they were both awake at this hour, it was nice to hang out.

Varian had become one of his closest friends, practically his baby brother. (Something he referred to Varian as rather often lately.) If Eugene wasn’t with Rapunzel or Lance, or watching his children, he was probably hanging around the young alchemist. Which to be fair, Varian was often watching Eugene’s children. It was probably a good display of how close the two were that Eugene, ever the mother-hen, trusted Varian with his children the most out of everyone in the castle. Of course he did. Varian was his brother. One of his closest friends and confidantes. They had only been friends for a few years, but Eugene had no idea what he would do without Varian.

But as Eugene passed by Varian's room, he noticed the lights were out and the door was tightly shut. He must have been sleeping. And while he did feel a slight urge to check on him, he decided against it. He needed to tone down the overprotectiveness anyway. Varian was fine. It was a peaceful and quiet evening. There was nothing to worry about right now.

Eugene would soon grow to resent that statement.

 

______________

 

Thirteen years later, Eugene is frying eggs for a distraught father on the anniversary of his son's disappearance.

It had become a morbid tradition. Every mid-spring, Eugene and Rapunzel would stay with Quirin for a few days. Somedays they would bring their kids, somedays they wondered if it would be too painful for the man who had lost his own son. Either way, they kept the distraught man company, and helped keep him going when he had lost any motivation to do so himself.

If Varian did come back, he didn’t need the guilt of his father’s death on his shoulders. So, Eugene and Rapunzel kept Quirin company.

And honestly, Eugene needed the company as well. A busy and bright castle was not exactly the best setting to mourn the loss of one of his dearest friends. But here in Old Corona, he could dwell on the heartache and pain easily. Old Corona was open and quiet, with no responsibilities to plague Eugene. And farming was an oddly good stress reliever. He could pretend an old pumpkin was a certain person’s face and kick it in anger to his heart's content, and he could then fall apart and sob and beg for forgiveness to the broken squash, and absolutely no one had to see it.

Eugene Fitzherbert was not doing well. How could he be? Varian ran away thirteen years ago to the day and was showing no signs of ever coming back.

The man groaned as the smell of burnt eggs wafted into his nose. After a brief inspection, he decided they were still edible. Raps and Quirin weren’t picky eaters. He plated the food alongside some sauteed vegetables and some sausage. He wasn’t a chef, and maybe Lance would critique it, but it was food. He was feeding his family.
He was doing something for his family. Maybe he couldn’t make his family whole ever again, maybe he could never ensure his family’s safety, maybe he could never understand what he had done wrong to split his family apart, but at least he could feed them.

Eugene Fitzherbert was not doing well.

Eugene felt more than he heard Rapunzel enter the dining room. He cooed at her bedhead as she adorably rubbed sleep out of her eyes. She bonelessly slumped against him, her messy head practically begging to be kissed. The prince happily obliged, and his princess hummed a soft good morning.

“Did you not sleep well?” He muttered into freshly dyed purple hair. He loved his artistic wife.

“I was up late last night, I needed a walk to clear my thoughts.”

“How late were you out?” He murmured into her hair.

Rapunzel looked up at him, a bit sheepish “ohhh maybe a few hours? I may not have gotten home until four.”

Eugene raised an unimpressed eyebrow, but sighed and let the issue slide. Rapunzel’s sleeping habits were normally fine, he didn’t blame her for needing some fresh air right now.

Rapunzel kissed him on the cheek and thanked him for the food as she began to sit down. The majestic yet old wooden chair creaking under her weight.

Normally Eugene liked to be courteous and wait for the man of the house, but Quirin had become a late sleeper in recent years. It was a small gesture of kindness to let the man finally get the rest he deserved after over a decade of sleepless nights full of fruitless searching and fitful nightmares.

The dining room was silent, early afternoon sunlight filtered in through glass windows. Normally brunches were spent happily chatting, but at Quirin’s they were solemn. Even if he wasn’t present. Despite how beautiful his house was, despite how much the couple enjoyed spending time here in a nice, quiet manor with beautiful farmlands- it held too many ghosts. The sunlight couldn’t make the place any brighter no matter how hard it tried.

Rapunzel seemed morose, Eugene had no energy to try and lift the mood. The two ate quietly. Only the sound of silverware scraping on porcelain plates could be heard. And yet, nothing needed to be said.

Eugene was content with the quiet, but then Rapunzel piped in with a quiet “I met a young girl last night, in the woods.”

That was enough to catch Eugene, normally difficult to catch by surprise, by surprise.

“There was just a little girl in the woods in the middle of the night?”

Rapunzel laughed uncomfortably “yeah, I was surprised too. She’s really sweet, but I’m a little worried about her-“

“Well I would be too if she’s just running around the woods of Old Corona at three am, there’s coyotes out there, and bandits. But let’s be honest, anyone could take out Dwayne.” He joked.

Rapunzel didn’t laugh. Instead she looked at him almost intensely, passion forming in her eyes. “I’m serious, something was- off. Like she doesn’t have a good home life, like she’s being hurt. She said something really cryptic, and she seems like she’s afraid people are going to get hurt soon. I think she may need our help Eugene.”

Eugene’s expression softened. The idea of a child being out there, possibly being abused, never failed to pierce into the deepest depths of his heart. And he knew Rapunzel was the same. After having two terrible childhoods themselves, they swore they would spend their reign with open arms to any child in need.

“What makes you think she needs help? Does she have parents? Because I don’t think the Orphange is letting kids just roam free at night. At least not anymore.”

“She has two dads. And one of them seems fine I guess. She seems to view him pretty highly. But the other one just reeks of Gothel.” Rapunzel’s face darkened. “Besides, what parent is letting their kid run around so late at night in the woods?”

“Not that I enjoy playing shitty parent advocate, but our kids run off at night. All the time. Constantly.” He once again attempted to joke.

Rapunzel ignored him by taking a sip of juice, and then stated “she said her father hurts people, and that she doesn’t want me to die. What does that even mean?”

Eugene dropped his fork. He rubbed the back of his head as he unsurely stated “okay yeah I’m at a loss for that one. Normally I’d say runaway teen because shitty dad…But I don’t know where I’d fit in murder.”

Rapunzel remained quiet, her eyes drifting off into a memory, likely from last night. Eugene tried to settle his nerves by taking a sip from his coffee. Nothing like caffeine to calm you down.

Because truly, how do you respond to that? What teenager was out here concerned about the life and death of the Princess? Did it have something to do with this father? Who was she? Could they help her?

Searching for some sort of conclusion, the Captain wondered aloud “maybe her father is a criminal, there are definitely plenty of people out there not living the straightest lifestyle who don’t exactly like us. Maybe it just rubbed off on the kid?”

Rapunzel gave a soft “I don’t know. I don’t think- I think it’s more than that.”

Eugene took her hand and gave her a comforting smile, one he hoped would convey that he was listening. Rapunzel looked up at him, and with the way the light was hitting her eyes, it almost looked like she was about to cry. And yet, he could see a fire growing.

“You know how you said sometimes you have gut feelings? How despite what you’re being told to your face, you think you know something deep down?”

“Yes?” He hesitantly replied.

And Eugene Fitzherbert was never a man to be easily taken by surprise. His early life as a thief, his new life as Captain Of The Guard, and his life as a father of two morally ambiguous twins, all developed him into someone who could not be caught off guard.

That being said, Eugene Fitzherbert was very caught off guard by the next thing his wife said. Even if he probably shouldn’t have been.

“I think this girl might have something to do with Varian.”

Rapunzel must have taken notice of his shocked silence, as she sheepishly added “I know it sounds crazy, I know you think I’m crazy, I just have a feeling and I think she could be his…daughter?”

Eugene’s shocked silence as Rapunzel even more sheepishly added “she just has his eyes, Eugene. She looked so much like him, she acted so much like him. And she’s around the twins’ age, Varian left when they were only a year old. She could plausibly be his kid and it makes sense because it’s the thirteenth anniversary of his disappearance!” Rapunzel’s almost frantic way of speaking fell as she added a soft “you think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Distressed green eyes looked up at him, pleadingly.

Eugene grabbed both of her hands and looked her in the eye “Rapunzel I would never, ever think you’re crazy.”

She smiled weakly. Eugene sighed.

“But I do think that you miss him. A lot. Last night was really hard for you. I think maybe you’re letting your emotions cloud your judgement a little.”

“So you think I’m crazy?”

“No! I think you miss Varian, saw a kid in need that reminded you of him, and are maybe taking that a little too far. I don’t think you’re crazy. Honestly if I saw a kid that looked just like him at that age I’d wonder the same thing too. But I don’t think it makes a whole lot of sense for Varian to run off and have a kid and not even tell his father. And then bring them around Corona without us knowing? That’s just not like him. Even if the whole situation was weird as fuck.” Eugene tried his best to sound non-judgemental. Because he wasn’t judging her in the slightest. He understood the desperation, he understood her desire to find some connection, a way to bring Varian home.

Rapunzel leaned her forehead against his. She closed her eyes and Eugene joined too. The two sat there for a moment. Rapunzel sighed, and her shoulders slumped as if she had just released a heavy weight.

“I just had a feeling that she had something to do with him. But maybe you’re right. Maybe I do just miss him. I’m just grasping at straws.” She sighed. Her admitting he was right wasn’t exactly a satisfying thing to hear. “She just seemed so much like him. She had his eyes. Or at least I thought so. I guess it was rather dark.” Rapunzel sounded so broken.

Eugene let her head fall to his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck as the sobs began to come. Eugene pulled her close and held her. The softest sniffle rang through the quiet kitchen. Eugene hugged her harder. He could feel his skin growing damp under her tears. He hoped she couldn’t feel her hair slowly dampening as well.

Rapunzel eventually wrapped her arms around him and held him just as tight. The embrace was awkward, with them both leaning from their chairs, but the security and comfort meant everything to them. They sat like that for a few minutes, just holding eachother and letting themselves cry. It was how they spent this day every year for the last thirteen years. Comforting one another as they mourned the loss of one of their dearest friends.

Rapunzel tightened her arms around Eugene. “I miss him so much. I thought by now it would be easier, but it’s so much worse. When is it going to stop getting worse?”

Eugene held her even tighter and rubbed soothing circles into her back “You remember what your parents said. After a while it will calm down. It will feel less like a burn and more like an ache. Just give it time.” Eugene kissed her head. He worried his words didn’t soothe her, as she seemed to only grow more distraught, tears picking up in pace as she began to hiccup.

“I miss him too, Sunshine, I miss him like crazy.” Eugene gave a wet chuckle “Who knew you could miss the smell of burning acid? Or the sound of glass exploding?”

Rapunzel didn’t laugh along, her tears soaking through his skin and finding their way to his heart to pierce it. Her soft little sobs were breaking him.

“He hasn’t written in over a year.”

“I’m sure he’s okay, he’s probably busy doing, whatever the fuck he’s out there doing.”

Rapunzel lifted her head, the fire was back in her eyes. “What if he’s hurt? What if he needs us? He’s close by, I can feel it. I think- I think we should go out again.”

And with that, Eugene’s heart shattered.

Because he didn’t feel the same.

“Rapunzel-“

“Maybe this time we can find him and bring him-”

“If Varian doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be found.” An aged and rough voice sounded from the kitchen entryway. Quirin stood, the world on his shoulders. He had aged a year every day. Dark hair now more salt than pepper, wrinkles lining his face, and eyes constantly tired. He carried himself the way any weary man who had lost everything had. But his voice still held command, Rapunzel almost shut up.

Almost.

“He hasn’t written in over a year, he could be in danger. And I-” Rapunzel’s mouth slammed shut as Eugene interrupted her. He didn’t want to see her arguing with Quirin. That wouldn’t do any of them any good.

“Rapunzel, we spent eleven years looking for him. I know you will think this is selfish but, I don’t think any of us can handle another failure. None of us can handle another loss. I can’t handle another loss. We should just let him come to us.“

He placed a firm grip on her shoulder in an attempt to be comforting, after she had wriggled out of the hug. She shrugged it off and stood. “But what if he can’t?”

“Then we hope he can find a way, or he can actually send us his location so we can help him.”

The fire was burning brightly in Rapunzel’s eyes. It burned everytime she thought about the possibility of bringing Varian home. She practically pounced on any lead, any vague sighting, any hint to his whereabouts. She had to be physically held back from going to a kingdom miles away herself, frying pan and sisterly determination in hand. The fire had never dulled all these years later. Unfortunately, it meant she had to burn others sometimes when they refused to spark.

Quirin still stood in the doorway, dejected. He seemed exhausted and empty, the spark had long gone quiet, eyes dimming slowly every day. Even as he argued, there was no bite to it whatsoever. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince the Princess.

“What if he’s in danger?” She exclaimed. She had the passion in her eyes that she always had when it came to doing what she believed to be the right thing. She had the love radiating off of her, the way she always had when it came to Varian.

“We don’t know that he is, Princess.” Quirin tried, exhausted, so very slightly angered. No one believed his words, not even him. But they wanted to. There was nothing else to believe. Despite his tone, he seemed more heartbroken than angry. They both knew deep down Rapunzel wasn’t mad, neither of them were mad. They all knew that deep down, he wished he still had the passion she had.

“You read the letter he left us! You can’t really believe he just ran away? Something was going on behind the scenes, someone was behind the scenes. After all this time you can’t just give up.” She stood face to face with him, the two staring eachother down. Eugene stood next to his wife, not necessarily in solidarity, but in support.

He hated himself for siding with Quirin.

“I’m not giving up, I'm accepting the truth.” Quirin stated firmly.

“It isn’t the truth and you know it. Varian would never do something like this to us unless he was forced.”

Quirin sighed, exasperated. He combed his fingers through his hair as he tried once again “You don’t know that. I didn’t think he would ever attack his kingdom and yet-“

Quirin instantly regretted his words, his already fragile composure shattering as the princess glared down at him with all the might of an angered Princess. Of a mourning sister.

“I’m not giving up on Varian.”

And with that, she left the house.

Eugene sighed as he watched Rapunzel leave, the door oh so very slightly slamming behind her. He sat down at the table, head in his hands. The food had long gone cold but he was too deep in his self-pity to care.

He fisted his bangs “It’s not that I don’t care I just- I just-“

A hand laid on his shoulder, steady and comforting “you don’t want her to get hurt. I understand.”

Eugene looked up to Quirin, both of their faces doing nothing to hide the shared misery the men were in. “I’m worried about him too, I know everything around the case is sketchy. I know the letter was suspicious. But we can’t leave the Kingdom for long periods of time anymore. Arianna and Frederic are talking about stepping down, the kids need us now more than ever, and Varian isn’t showing any signs of coming back soon. Anytime we even get close he evades us. And Quirin, I just can’t do this anymore.”

A soft sob escaped Eugene’s throat, tears threatening to spill over.

“I can’t keep failing to bring him home, I just can’t. I know that makes me a terrible brother but I can’t anymore.”

The older man sighed, his face weary and his eyes heartbroken. Silent tears were leaving tracks on his face. His shoulders were slumped, and he fell more than he sat into the chair next to Eugene.

“I can’t keep looking for him either. I’m too old now. Searching for him is more aimless wandering than anything. He’s been careful not to give us any clues as to his whereabouts. He doesn’t want to be found, and we have to respect that. Even if we think he may be in danger. All we can do is hope he’s safe.”

The slightest smile graced Quirin’s face. It was an unfamiliar sight, and it wasn’t particularly reassuring. “You were a good brother, Eugene.”

Eugene smiled back, no more reassuring than Quirin’s “You were a good father.”

The room grew silent.

 

____

 

Varian disappeared thirteen years ago and all the signs pointed to him having run away. Varian told them he ran away. Varian left a note stating he was unsatisfied with his life in the castle and wanted to find his purpose, and he told them not to follow him.
And then the asshole practically taunted them by sending letters asking for updates on their life.

He never mentioned anything about the life he was living, no. His letters were full of surface-level reassurances, false promises of return, pointless apologies for it “having to be this way,” and prodding for any kind of information about home.
He even sent gifts. To his niece and nephew. Untraceable gifts along with letters from fake addresses.

Any rational person would be suspicious. They had originally been suspicious. Varian was a wild card to be sure, with unpredictable moods and a disturbing lack of self preservation skills. He could get emotional, lash out, and hurt himself in an attempt to do what he believed to be right by others. But why would he run away in the dead of night? With no warning, no hints, nothing. One minute he was happily calling Eugene his brother, the next he was running away stating he wanted a new life. Without his brother. Without his family.

Of course they were suspicious.

Of course they thought he had been kidnapped, of course they thought he was being blackmailed into leaving Corona, of course they thought there was someone behind the scenes, pulling Varian along on strings.

But after thirteen years of no leads, any theories ending up in dead ends or going dry- Varian’s word became the only thing they could possibly go off of. And with no suspicious coding or abnormal wording, they had to relent and believe the absolute last thing they ever wanted to believe.

Varian didn’t see them as his family, he didn’t view them as home. He wanted a better life, without them.

Of course that didn’t stop Rapunzel from adamantly believing she could bring him back home. Honestly, even Eugene had spent years searching the Seven Kingdoms high and low for even the slightest trace of their beloved alchemist. But thirteen years of constant rejection did something to a man, to a brother.

Quirin had gone through the exact same thing. He had spent years searching, following any slightest trace or lead for his beloved son, only to be met with constant failure, his son actively evading him.

At this point, it started to feel like the “clues” were planted by Varian, purposely leading them on a wild goose chase to further them into giving up their pursuit of him. And it was working.

As much as he wanted to believe Varian could be saved and brought home, they had to swallow the bitter truth that he didn’t want to be found.Whether or not his desire to stay hidden had a malicious meaning. It was a pill Eugene had to swallow for his own sanity.

Varian could take care of himself. They had to trust that.

Rapunzel still persevered, however. Just like her parents. She refused to give up on Varian. Even after thirteen years of heartache, she was determined to bring him home.

Eugene wished he could say the same.

He would always love Varian. Varian would always be his baby brother. But if Varian didn’t want to be found, and there were no clues pointing to his disappearance having malicious intentions, then he would let Varian not be found.

For his own sake. Maybe even for Varian’s sake.

Maybe one of these days he could get a full nights rest, or walk through the hallways without the ghost of a playful alchemist laughing, or pass by an eternally empty lab they hadn’t had the heart to fill, or look at the moon and wonder if Varian was looking at it too.

He wondered if he could ever look in the mirror at his own slowly aging features, and wonder how Varian was aging too. One of these days he won’t miserably loathe the fact that they wouldn’t be aging together. Eugene growing grey, but Varian still young and youthful in his memory.

He hoped Varian was okay, wherever he was. He hoped Varian had been okay, wherever he had been.

Maybe, just maybe, while the rest of them were suffering. Varian was okay and thriving.

Eugene could only hope.

Notes:

This chapter has been a pain in the ass to write, so I don’t love it, but you gotta get the boring exposition out of the way to get to the real fun stuff (psychological whump, child abuse, and general dead dove content) it’s hitting the fan soon so hope you enjoyed the New Dream feels while you can 🖤

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

Summary:

I bet you’re wondering what Varian’s been up to. Not exactly fun vacation times I can tell you that much.

Notes:

So there are quite a few content warnings for this chapter that I will include in the end notes if you want to avoid spoilers. So jump down there if you want. If not- still be warned, this fic deals with some heavy content. Andrew is not a good person and Varian is not having a good time.

(Also in case you’re like me and can’t always tell, this chapter and the next few chapters do not take place in the present. They take place twelve years ago.)

It was dark, the only light for miles were the crescent moon and the millions of stars dotting around her. Below, it was silent. Dead quiet, the world beneath her was asleep.

Except for one man.

Varian quietly shuffled around his tent, packing the absolute essentials. Apples he stole, a canteen of water, money he also stole, glowing vials for light, and some goo bombs, just in case. And the letter, which was hidden in his boot. The letter was the most essential part of his mission.

While he dreamed of being free, he would be content if he simply got the letter to Rapunzel before being ripped away and apart by the Separatists Of Saporia once again. That was the most important goal of his mission. Get the letter to Rapunzel, and then find safety.

If she got it, she could rescue him from the hell he had been living in for the past nine months. But preferably, he would find a room to stay in before Andrew ever awoke to find him missing.

He may have been trapped in this cult for the last nine months, but he planned this escape down to the last detail. He was going to get out of here- away from the constant beatings, the blame and judgement, and the harassment. And most importantly, he was getting away from Andrew. The boogeyman who haunted him after spending so long with his claws dug deep into Varian’s mind and brought about constant confusing heartache and yearning. The man who had come back and dragged Varian back to hell with faux-open arms. The man who was slowly but surely digging himself back in, burrowing, so he could control the boy like his own puppet.

Varian was going to get away. He was running tonight. Nothing could stop him.

 

____

 

There was a dull pain in his gut. It wasn’t there constantly, but it would come in waves. It wasn’t terrible at first, but by now it was just so very slightly debilitating when it did strike.

But it was just nerves. He could easily ignore the steady cramps as they came. His freedom was more important than laying in bed nursing himself. He only had this chance, with the other Saporians thoroughly exhausted from a bandit attack, and Andrew having enough tentative trust in him to allow Varian his own tent. Kai was keeping watch tonight, but Kai was stupid. Or at least, not as smart as Varian.

He only had one chance, he wasn’t letting pain get in his way. If he stayed, the pain awaiting him would be so much worse.

(But if he ran, and was caught, the pain would be agonizing for him. But that was a risk he was going to take. He already had one of his molars ripped out for talking back, he couldn’t survive in this environment.)

It was a short trip from this makeshift prison camp to the nearest town. An hour or two run through the woods, and maybe a couple minutes to the nearest post office, and he was safe. He could mail the letter before Andrew could send word to his man on the inside, and everything would be okay.

Everything could be okay again. Everything would be okay again.

He was going to be back home, with his family. He was going to lay by the fire in his living room surrounded by soft blankets with his raccoon sleeping peacefully beside him. Lance and Rapunzel were going to quietly bake in the kitchen, Kiera and Catalina were going to play with the twin babies outside, and Eugene and his dad were going to converse quietly while Varian rested. The atmosphere would be loving and peaceful. He would be surrounded by those who loved him and would protect him, and would never even dream of laying a hand on him, or making him question his reality or his grasp on right and wrong. He would be sheltered, and would not have to feel even an ounce of anxiety as Ruddiger curled under his chin and heat licked his cheeks.

He wasn’t going to be in the middle of the woods, in the bitter November cold, laying in a small, thin tent. He wasn’t going to be miles away from home, letting his family believe he had run away, the lies only to ensure their safety. He wasn’t going to be hit and berated by his former friends, abused and tortured for saving his kingdom. He wasn’t going to be shadowed by Andrew, who seemed to enjoy getting his claws into Varian’s mind. Playing games like he had before with him, distorting his perception of reality, the truth, and morality. He wasn’t going to be here, letting his childhood abuser take over his life again.

He wasn’t going to lay on the cold, dark ground, barely cognizant; nor was he going to disassociate, terrified of being conscious and feeling, while Andrew used him the same way he had done so many times before.

Varian grit his teeth as he snuck past the campsite. Kai was keeping watch tonight, but Varian waited for just the right moment to set off one of the horses with a thrown dart. Capturing the tired man’s attention long enough for Varian to book it quietly from the other side of camp. It was Andrew’s fault really, for trusting him with his own tent by now.

Varian quietly made his way to the trees, waited a heartbeat, and ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and then some. His lungs quickly burned. His footsteps had been quiet as he ran to the edge of the woods at camp, but now that he was out of earshot, he didn’t worry about the crunch of frozen leaves under his feet nor his own oddly overly-exerted panting.

He tried his best to be stealthy and smart, but being fast was the most important thing to him. Branches slapped against his face and stung, he tripped over gnarled roots and landed in cold mud and scraped his hands against rocks and rough dirt. The chilly November wind pierced through his coat and clung to his skin. If Varian could see past the inky darkness, he was sure his breath would be a thick cloud.

The abrasions and the cold bit at him, feeling like their own kind of fire. The nerves ate at his gut once again, stronger and longer than before.

But he kept going. His family’s lives were on the line.

The pain was getting worse, but it was just the exertion, nerves, fear. Maybe all three. Once he got to town he could rest. Once he sent Rapunzel the letter he could rest. And hopefully the mysterious pain that had become much more than a mere cramp, would dissipate.

It was fine, until a strong, sharp cramp caused him to gasp and double over, vomit tearing through his throat. The sound of pained retching and gasping echoing through the forest. Hot tears froze on his cheeks as he tried to collect himself.

But Varian kept going.

His back was aching, deeply and painfully. Almost to the point where Varian considered resting for just a moment so running didn’t feel so agonizing. His lower back had never hurt like this. Something was wrong.

But Varian kept going. Slower, and much more exhausted and unsteadily, and almost dizzily, but he continued to run.

____

After almost an hour, Varian faltered. The pain was becoming more frequent, more debilitating, more agonizing. But he continued to press forward.

The memory of his last night in Corona was fresh in his mind. He used it to motivate himself. The pain in his body would never match the pain in his heart as he remembered writing his goodbye letter to his friends, his family.

A royal guard had urged him outside, stating his alchemy was needed to save someone’s life. In his tired state, he naively and obediently followed the man to his own doom. At least Andrew let him write a letter to Rapunzel, so she wouldn’t be too worried. Maybe if she believed he ran away, she wouldn’t worry herself sick like she had with Cass. Sure they would hate him, but he’d rather they hate him than get hurt or worse.

Andrew said if he complied, he’d spare his family’s lives. But if he didn’t, then his guards in the inside would paint the castle with their blood. Starting with the princess and her young children.

“We’re going to take Corona with or without you Varian. But if you make it easy on us, we’ll make it easy on you and keep your little Princess alive? How’s that? Don’t you want to keep your whole family alive?” He had whispered menacingly in the dark woods outside the castle, as Varian felt the life he had built for himself slip out of his grasp and into Andrew’s claws.

Varian felt tears prick his eyes as he forced air into his lungs and forced his burning legs to keep moving. The memory only served to hurt him worse, but it kept him motivated.

Because if he could get this letter to Rapunzel soon, the letter warning her, telling her everything; it would reach her before Andrew could reach his men. Saving her and everyone he loved. He just had to outrun Andrew.

A voice in the back of his mind, sounding suspiciously like Andrew, told him he was selfish for risking it. Varian pushed the thought to the back of his mind and continued to run. He just had to get the word to his sister.

He ignored the pain as it steadily built in his gut and back. He was so close to town, only an hour away, he wouldn’t let anything stop him.

____

The moon hung high in the sky, more than another hour had passed. Varian was still in the woods and the pain had become unbearable. Varian could barely even walk, much less run. He wondered if he was even going the right way anymore with his mental state. He had to bite his tongue and grip his mouth with his gloved hand to muffle the agonized screams that tore from his very soul. It was debilitating. More than once he had stumbled only to find himself unable to get up because the pain was shooting from his insides, only to form and stay as a dull persistent ache. It felt like something was inside him, clawing its way out. It was agonizing. He wanted to cry.

He was already crying, apparently. Crying soft broken tears as he was just so close, but he couldn’t force his body any nearer. He looked into the stars, taunting him. He had the perfect escape and it was being wrenched from him unfairly because his goddamn stomach hurt. If he weren’t so afraid of being caught, he’d scream into the heavens begging for mercy, or cursing them as they had cursed him. Either way, it didn’t matter. He could barely muffle his pained screams and moans anyway.

He had never hurt this badly before.

He stumbled his way to a massive tree and gripped the bark as he let himself fall down the side. He couldn’t keep going, he needed to rest. There was no way he was making it out of the woods in this state. Maybe if he gave himself a few moments the pain would subside and he could keep going. He could still be free. He just needed a moment. That was what he told himself at least.

As the minutes ticked by, it felt like the opposite would happen. The dull cramps had gradually turned near-constant shooting pain alongside an ache in his back. The pain had shifted lower, causing everything in his abdomen and below to hurt so painfully he felt he would black out. The feeling of something trying to claw its way out of him only intensified, and Varian unwillingly let out a scream as a sharp cramp tore through him once again, much more intense than before. He gripped the bark with one hand and brought his fist between his teeth to muffle the screams, but it was no use.

Varian didn’t even focus on the wide expanse of darkness around him like a nightmarish grip on his throat, he didn’t think about the nocturnal predators prowling around with their distant howls being heard, nor could he spare a thought to the chill that was becoming even colder and sharper. And yet, the thoughts still penetrated through the pain, somehow making it worse.

He must have been dying. Whatever poison Andrew used on him, whatever sickness he had picked up, whatever curse had been laid upon him, whatever it was- it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. It only grew worse.

He wanted to die. Truly and deeply he craved some form, any form of mercy. He screamed again. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks and continued with reckless abandon.

He was going to die here. Either by the pain, a stray snake, or by the fact that he had no choice but to sit here, practically begging for a Saporian Separatist to find him and drag his openly sobbing ass back to hell. He didn’t even get to die in comforting arms. He was either going to die by the elements and his corpse be mauled by a coyote, or he was going to die in the hands of those he loathed most.

Either way, he was in too much pain to contemplate which was worse as another wave of pain shot through him and another agonized groan tore through the night, choked with tears. He gripped the grass beneath him but it offered little comfort.

He wanted his dad to hold him and kiss his tears away. He wanted Rapunzel to sing to him as she placed a warm mug of tea in his hands. He wanted to be curled up next to Eugene as he read aloud some new adventure book now that they had read their way through Flynn Rider. He wanted to be loved as he suffered through pain like no other, ripping him apart. At least he would be dying in the arms of those he loved, and not in the arms of a massive oak and the cold, dark night.

He couldn’t even understand, in his pained, panicked, and confused state, what could possibly be wrong. He was at a loss.

The pain had become mildly familiar, however, the more Varian thought about it now that his thoughts were no longer focused on his escape.

He hazily remembered his first period, being confused as to why he had been cramping so bad, and nearly fainting at the sight of blood. He had been so sure he was dying that night. But his father had quickly assured him it was normal, and he was okay. His body was just ready to start making babies.

Babies.

Another wave of nausea enveloped him. He had already vomited on his trek, but this was new, and worse. The sick feeling of the possibility of-

All so suddenly Varian remembered. It was like he had been hit with a bag of sand, leaving him pained and breathless.

He hadn’t had a period the entire time he had been here.

He hadn’t had a period in nine months.

Varian threw up.

Fear overwhelmed him and he found himself shaking and somehow crying even harder. Soft wet little gasps left his mouth as the truth was pushing in his chest and he struggled to take in a breath. In an instant the pain had a new meaning and he was somehow even more terrified. He coughed as he sobbed, the tears and lingering sting from the bile burned his throat. His chest ached now too, everything hurt.

It couldn’t be it couldn’t be it couldn’t be there was no way it fucking couldn’t be please Sun and Moon don’t let it be this.

Varian heaved, cold air prickling at his burning skin. Exhaustion pulling his overworked muscles. His throat was raw, his chest ached, and the pain hadn’t ceased, only building in intensity. But the possibility of- the possibility of- what could be happening was so much worse. He felt dizzy.

There was no way it could be -this- because that would mean he had been pregnant and there was no way he had been pregnant. That was something you usually noticed.

Granted, he had noticed. But the exhaustion, the nausea, the mood swings, he chalked it all up to the fact that he had been kidnapped in the dead of night with his family's lives on the line if he didn’t comply. He was being abused in a cult, he was living a recurring nightmare. Of course his body would have an adverse reaction. His period had never been regular, it’s not something he ever thought about.

It’s not like he had been showing.

He thought he was just bloated from his new vegetarian diet.

His memory drifted briefly to Andrew’s little “welcome home gift.” The one Varian desperately tried to forget. Even if he was forced back under the monster many times after.

Oh Suns.

If the Sun and Moon had any mercy on his poor soul…

Gently, hesitantly, Varian lowered his trousers, and prodded inside his entrance. His fingers recoiled, and a fresh wave of nausea and dread filled him as he felt something there. Something solid. Something with hair.

Varian felt a head.

No, please no.

Varian screamed as he felt what he soon recognized as an overwhelming urge to push, and he gave in. He gripped the grass beneath him with one hand and tried to position his other hand to guide the baby into the world.

The distant sounds of coyotes and other nocturnal animals rang through his ears. The ground was cold and hard, and the bitter cold wind slowly bit at him, each gust more painful than the last. It terrified him. Because now he had a child he was delivering in this unforgiving place.

The small boy was terrified. The panic was overwhelming as his heart raced to the point it hurt to beat. He still struggled to take in a deep breath. He wasn’t sure what to do, what would help and what would hurt his baby as they came into the world. The baby itself was terrifying. What was he going to do with it? How does one take care of a spontaneously acquired newborn? In the middle of the woods at night?

A brief thought entered his mind but was shooed away by another contraction as the baby’s head crowned. Could he still escape?

But he couldn’t think right now. All he knew was he was in pain and he wanted it to stop. He just wanted the baby to leave so he could breathe. But the pain only got worse, and lower, and pushing was already becoming so tiresome.

He was exhausted from running, he was already exhausted from pushing, and he could feel himself tear slightly as the baby came out. He was too tired to scream. Groans and grunts were the only thing emanating from him as he pushed. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks, freezing on his skin. He tore through the ground under him for some semblance of comfort, dirt coating his glove.

Varian grit his teeth as he tried to deliver a baby he didn’t know how to deliver. Varian cried as he tried to deliver a baby he had no idea existed.

He wished Arianna were here. She would know what to do. She could guide him through these uncertain waters. He was fumbling blind right now. She was light, and warmth, and comforting, and maybe he was thinking of Rapunzel right now.

He really wanted his Rapunzel.

Instant relief flooded Varian’s bones. The baby’s little feet had made their way out and he was finished. He could breathe again. Varian sucked in the air and let out a wet laugh as he felt his muscles begin to relax. He briefly felt calmer, lighter.

Varian slumped down along the tree, laying on his side and he practically melted into the earth he had just given birth upon. He was briefly glad it had been night. He wasn’t sure he could handle the sight of the afterbirth. He hoped there wasn’t too much blood. He closed his eyes and sighed, arms crossing under his head and forming a pillow.

He was sore and aching terribly, his mind felt like soup, but he could breathe and relax. He would take whatever he could get right now.

A gentle cry not his own began to sound throughout the quiet forest, and Varian looked over to see the creature he only had a few moments to know existed. The baby he had just brought into the world. The baby he made.

He couldn’t see well, even as his eyes had adjusted to the dark, but the baby was itty-bitty. Their face was twisted in agony and their screams pierced through the brief quiet of early morning. He couldn’t even begin to imagine- they were once tucked in a warm little womb, and now they were on harsh dirt with cold air biting at their skin. Varian cursed himself for his heartlessness. The poor baby.

Gingerly, he picked up the tiny sobbing newborn and held them close to his chest. The little creature, barely bigger than his forearm, quickly nuzzled into the affection. Varian nestled them into his trenchcoat in a weak attempt to protect the newborn from the elements. Their sobs quieted, but they continued to wail. Varian was at a loss on how to comfort them. He was pretty new at this. Considering he only knew they existed approximately thirty minutes ago. But he desperately wanted to soothe them.

It was odd. They had just been born and he was already eager to protect and comfort them. Their cries broke his heart. He held them closer. Slowly, they quieted. Safe for now in their fathers embrace.

Now that the panic was over and Varian could think, the reality of the situation fully dawned on him.

He had a newborn baby in the freezing cold, lost in the middle of the woods, and he had no idea what he was doing. He was still deeply aching and wasn’t sure he could even walk right now.

For the last hour, he hadn’t exactly been inconspicuous. The sun was beginning to rise and Andrew, ever the early riser, was surely awake. The sun's warming rays sealed his fate as he heard familiar voices in the distance. He didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he would protect this child with his life, no matter what.

“Shhh it’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He whispered to the baby as they sobbed.

“It’s going to be okay.” He whispered to himself, as he felt a sob form in his throat.

____

They hadn’t been able to find clothing to fit a newborn on short notice. Which was surprising given Clementine had such a vast wardrobe. But, all they could fit his baby in were some sheets. She was wrapped and swaddled tightly, and nustled safely into her father’s arms. She was curled the same way she must have been before entering the world, in a fetal position and her eyes screwed shut as she got her first ever nap. The baby was so little, a tiny pink blob with a scrunched little face. Soft raven hair just barely reached her past her little forehead. She looked angry, like she was mad for being born. She must have been mad at the world. She used to be safely nestled in a warm womb, with only one voice to focus on. But now she was out in the world, the uncertain, terrifying, and cold world. Everywhere she looked she saw unfamiliar faces, heard unfamiliar voices, and could never be sure she was safe.

Varian could sympathize with the newborn.

He nuzzled the baby close to his chest in a weak effort to soothe her. To keep her safe. He hadn’t even known he was pregnant to begin with yet he already knew he would do anything to protect his daughter. She was so innocent, so small, so helpless and precious. All she had was him. And he would die for her. It was strange how quickly he fell in love with a little creature he had only known existed for about two hours. A creature who had only caused him pain thus far.

Must have been the post-birth endorphins.

He brushed his hand over her chubby cheek, and a little fist lazily shot up and clutched over a finger, holding tightly, grasping onto comfort and safety. Varian cooed.

The two sat like that, content simply in eachother’s company. Varian tried to ignore the pit of dread in his heart over the fact that his escape plan had been ruined, that had his baby come simply an hour later they could be safe in another town and Rapunzel would be aware of the danger she and her family were in. But unfortunately, he had been incapacitated, easy to find in the cold dark woods. And he had been in so much pain, he had been so terrified, he had welcomed the two that had found him and carried him back into camp.

He tried not to be discouraged. It was so very easy to fall into it, but maybe, just maybe, if he built his strength back up he could escape once again. And he could take his baby girl with him. Of course, giving birth while hypothermic and surrounded by disease incapacitated him slightly, but he tried to hang onto a shred of hope.

His thoughts of escape were cut short by Andrew entering Varian’s tent. He had been brought in by Juniper and Kai, and looked over by Clementine, who was oddly knowledgable. (Which didn’t necessarily mean he was comfortable with her poking around his privates, but he didn’t think he could get away with punting her so easily.) But Andrew had yet to show his face. Varian cowered and pulled his daughter closer to his chest.

“Well I have to say that was certainly an, interesting escape attempt. I almost thought you had me. Guess luck just wasn’t on your side today huh buddy?” Varian glared at him silently.

The older man ignored him, walked next to his side, he crossed his arms and leaned over to look at the sleeping infant. “I have to say, you kept this secret pretty well. I had no clue.”

Varian’s face burned, and he looked away “I didn’t know.”

Andrew shrugged and hummed, all good naturedly. Like this was just a friendly chat they were having. Varian could cut the tension with a knife.

“I’m almost inclined to believe you, considering you decided it would be smart to run off while giving birth. You know, you could have made it. You almost escaped. But fate had other plans for you. They had plans for us.”

Andrew paused briefly, and a mischievous glint formed in his eyes and he smiled widely. “She’s mine, isn’t she?”

Varian glared up at him, tears forming in his eyes. Andrew only smiled wider, more wickedly, and quickly snatched the small child out of the alchemist’s arms. In an instant, it was like a piece of his heart had been ripped from him. Every nerve in his body was alight and he was ready to pounce. He didn’t care how much he feared this man, Varian was going to protect his baby.

But Varian stayed seated. Andrew had no reason to hurt the baby. Even if he was likely livid with his escape attempt. He always punished Varian for his disobedience. But Varian, in some odd way, trusted Andrew not to hurt the baby.

The feeling of trust felt like bile in his throat.

Andrew softly bounced the baby in his arms and cooed over her, bringing a finger for her to latch onto the same way she had with Varian’s. If Varian wasn’t mistaken, it seemed like his eyes were shining with what seemed like affection. The look of love made him feel just the tiniest bit warm.

He told himself he was just glad Andrew didn’t seem to hate the kid. That’s all the feeling was, relief.

“This one’s going to be a fighter, I can tell. You should give her a strong name, a strong name for the next generation of New Saporians.”

Varian gave Andrew a weak scowl. “She’s going to be nothing like you, you asshole.”

Andrew chuckled, but the dark glint in his eyes betrayed his irritation “She’s going to have to be if you’re raising her” He passed the bundle into the younger man’s arms, who eagerly accepted, only to be met with a hand gripping his chin, unbreakable eye contact with malicious eyes, and a harsh whisper. “So if you want to keep the brat you best watch yourself.”

Varian felt his heart stop. He pulled the child as close to his chest as he could, using himself a shield, protecting his daughter from the man before her. Uncertainty and pure, primal fear coursed through Varian’s veins. Andrew resumed his nonchalance and started yapping about something or the other. Probably baby supplies. Varian didn’t care. He just had one thing on his mind now.

“What’re you gonna do?”

Andrew turned his head, having already made his way to the small tents opening. He smiled knowingly. Well Varian could see through his bullshit. Andrew was fully intending on punishing him, he was just waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“You’re going to have to elaborate my friend.”

Varian was shaking, but he still held his daughter in steady arms. “I tried to run away, what are you going to do to me?”

Andrew turned, the light of the candle casting an ominous glow on his content eyes and soft smile. He toyed with the opening of the flap as Varian cowered beneath his gaze. He was torturing him by merely standing there, and Varian knew he was reveling in it.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson after the little stunt you pulled. Honestly, I think you’ll be too busy tending to the kid to think of any more harebrained runaway schemes again.”

Andrew’s almost kind smile turned dark and malicious in an instant.

“Besides, you’ve got another member of your family to be worrying about now.”

Varian’s heart sunk, the threat piercing through him and leaving him breathless and hurting.

Andrew made his way back to the younger man, and kissed his forehead, telling him and the small infant to get some rest. He blew out the candle, and darkness enveloped him the same way the horrifying truth had.

Varian was trapped.

He kissed his tether softly on the forehead, and tried to hold back his tears as he gently sang a lullaby to the softly fussing newborn.

Notes:

Content warnings for-

Implied/referenced rape

Kidnapping

Cryptic pregnancy

A graphic depiction of childbirth

Emotional and physical abuse

Implied murder of children

Andrew

I tried to make the birth as accurate as possible but at the same time I don’t want to write that, and I don’t think you wanna read that. Let’s pretend placentas don’t exist and labor is a lot shorter in this universe 🖤

Anyway thanks for reading this fucked up lil fic. This is probably the most graphic chapter for awhile don’t worry. I hope you stay 🫶🏻

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

Summary:

It’s not easy adjusting to raising a baby. Especially when you’re raising a baby in an unstable cult and the leader is really nice sometimes…

Cw for attempted child abuse, more specifically baby shaking. And also just Andrew in general lol.

Varian had been used to not getting much sleep. He was a hardworking man of science, he was used to putting off rest in the face of productivity. He prided himself on being able to survive on only an hour or so of rest for almost three whole days.

Apparently this was “unhealthy” and “a deeply concerning habit” and if he continued, Eugene would “fucking drug his food.”

So the habit had been more or less beaten out of him, and his tolerance for staying awake for long periods of time had dwindled.

And Varian deeply, deeply missed that tolerance in the wake of his new situation.

The young man gently rocked the fussing newborn in his arms, quietly shushing her, to no avail. The little thing just kept screaming and crying.

He had tried everything he could think of, everything he had seen Rapunzel and Eugene do for their own children. Rocking, lullabies, bouncing, letting her cry it out, funny faces, peek a boo, everything. And yet, she continued to cry. And with the sound of her screams and tears, Varian began to cry too.

He was at such a loss. He didn’t know what to do.

He never knew what to do.

He was just so tired.

She was hardly a week old, and any energy that had remained in his already worn out body, was dissipating at a rapid rate. He was still sore from the traumatic birth and subsequent fever, he was exhausted from being the child’s only caretaker, and he was mentally worn from the gravity of his situation pressing down on him like he was being stoned.

Varian swallowed back tears.

The yet to be named child continued to fuss even as Varian shushed her and kissed her forehead. He bundled her even tighter and held her against his chest. The night was chill and the air crisp, with the remnants of winter having yet to fade away. He was sure if he peeked outside the flap of his dingy tent, he’d see snow. The poor thing was probably freezing. Varian knew he was.

He was cold and tired and he felt horribly guilty for being unable to soothe his own child.

The kid was purely his responsibility, his child, the reason he would never get to go back home. He was giving up everything for her.

And he couldn’t even get her to sleep.

(Rapunzel always soothed her babies so fast. The twins were always lulled to sleep in her arms. Varian briefly wondered if her niece would feel such calm in her presence.)

With a scratchy voice coated in tears and exhaustion, Varian tried once again to sing to the fussing bundle cradled to his chest, her teary eyes nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf. Der Vater hüt die Schaaf. Die Mutter- Die Mutter schüttelts Bäumelein-“

An old lullaby from ages ago, from when he was a fussing child and his father would sing to him, only existed in fragments of his memory. In his weary state, he couldn’t remember the full lyrics, only a calming melody that kissed away his tears and rubbed his back after a nightmare.

The lullaby only existed in the memory of his father, and all Varian could think about was how much he needed his daddy right now. Through tears, he continued.

“Da fällt herab ein Träumelein. Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf.“

The baby’s tears began to subside, screaming sobs quickly muffling into soft sniffles. Varian smiled weakly as her eyes closed and her fist relaxed, dozing off into a content sleep. He kissed her downy black hair as he, too, began to relax.

“Sleep, dear child, sleep.”

Varian sat down onto the bed, his back aching in protest but his legs grateful for the relief. It had begun to feel like he was holding more than just a baby, his arms carrying the weight of the world.

He supposed, in a way, he was.

Her breathing evened out and her pudgy red face smoothed into contentment.

She had probably simply worn herself out from crying so hard for so long, but Varian was desperate for any sort of approval that he was choosing to believe he had managed to soothe his baby. He was letting himself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

It had barely been a week, but he had grown so attached to this little girl who’s primary form of entertainment was sticking Varian’s fingers in her mouth; and he was letting himself believe that despite the circumstances, everything would be okay. Him and her, their little family. He would keep her safe.

In spite of everything Andrew was putting him through, and would put him- them through. It could be okay.

The dim and warm lamplight cast shadows on her slowly tanning skin and the new father soaked up the rare, peaceful moment. The biting chill hadn’t bothered him as he nuzzled the baby’s serene little face, kissing the little nose and fat cheeks.

It was going to be okay.

Right now, he couldn’t hurt them.

Suddenly the air turned frigid as the deafening sound of wind howling blew throughout the warm tent. Small flakes of snow and the bitter smell of chill air filtered into the opened flap of Varian’s tent, and his poor daughter began to fuss once again.

In an instant her screams turned piercing, through Varian’s ears and his heart. Juniper stood, clearly half awake, in the opening. The dim lighting only served to pronounce the bags under her eyes and her hunched posture as it shadowed across the walls.

Varian stood on unsteady legs, clutching the fussing bundle even closer to his chest, shielding her with his arms. The dark chill set into his bones rather quickly, but it wasn’t the temperature that caused him to shake.

“Some of us are trying to fucking sleep Varian.”

Varian took a deep breath and tried to settle his voice “I know, I’m sorry! I tried everything but she just wouldn’t- but I finally got her to- until-“

“Well try fucking harder because we have shit to do tomorrow and your little cunt nugget is keeping everyone awake!”

Varian bit his lip and he was sure the skin split as copper filled his mouth. He glared as Juniper's exhausted and weary face fixed his kid with a hateful look.

“I’m trying my best okay? I don't know why she’s crying, but trust me it’s upsetting me too! She’s a baby, Juniper. She doesn’t know any better. And I finally got her to calm down until you came in!”

Clearly Varian’s attempt to stand up for himself and his kid had only served to upset the separatist more, or maybe she was upset by the loudening screams of the baby; but Juniper made her way to the two in barely two strides and attempted to rip the baby from her father’s hold.

Varian let out a pained scream as he tightened his hold on his baby. Nails left red welts on her neck and her arms were sure to bruise, and her head bobbed as she was jostled between the two. Her screams turned shrill and Varian gasped painfully as Juniper harshly ripped the newborn from his arms.

Varian felt the air leave his lungs and his body freeze over as Juniper dangled the screaming baby. She writhed and her arms shook painfully. Varian wasn’t sure what her plan was, he wasn’t sure is she knew what her plan was.

All he knew was that his baby was in danger.

Acting on instinct, and filled with primal rage and protectiveness, Varian lunged and wrapped his arms around the dark neck. Juniper gasped in surprise and Varian quickly tightened his grip.

A choked sound of alarm was the only thing Varian let pass through her throat. The baby screamed and Varian was ripped from his brief trance. Juniper’s arms fell and she had been lowered, thoroughly scared. Before Varian could make a move to grab her the tent flap opened once again.

“Varian! Juniper! What the hell?”

Andrew’s voice startled the two, and they both instinctively stood to attention, almost shrinking back in his presence. Varian gathered his wits and immediately scooped the baby into his arms, holding her close. He held her up, practically hiding her in his chest. Her fists stretched out and smacked him, her tiny legs kicking in anger. But he continued to hold her securely.

Andrew fixed a glare not to Varian, surprisingly to him, but to Juniper. She trembled under his gaze and Varian almost felt sympathy for her.

Almost.

“What the fuck are you doing Juniper?” He asked lowly. His voice even and terrifying.

She shot a terrified look to Varian, as if seeking some form of back up, empathy, any form of help or comfort. He only glared at her.

“The- the baby wouldn’t stop crying so I tried to- I tried to get her to shut up. You even said it wasn’t driving you crazy, I mean she wouldn’t-“ Juniper trailed off, allowing herself to stoop so low as to mumble, her gaze lowered. “I couldn’t sleep, I was just trying to help.”

Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated “and you think yelling at a crying baby and ripping her away from her dad is going to get her to stop crying?” Andrew made his way over to the two, face to face with the shaking younger woman. “Did I get that right? Did you really think that would help?”

“But you told me to-“ Andrew roughly grabbed her arm and quickly led her outside the tent. Juniper stumbled over her own feet as he all but threw her outside. “You’ve done enough Juniper. We’ll talk about this later.”

Varian heard Juniper fall down with a hard thud. But he couldn’t get himself to feel bad for her.

Juniper was an angry person, he knew that. He was used to her taking her moods out on him even if they had formed a tentative friendship.

But she had lashed out at his baby, his innocent newborn child who was all he had anymore.

He didn’t even want to feel bad for her.

Vaguely, through his single minded focus on making sure his baby was unharmed, checking her limbs and reflexes; Varian noticed a small crowd outside his tent. A baby screaming and two people yelling would probably attract one, he mused.

He noticed Andrew step out to talk, likely attempting to get them to leave the matter alone and to go back to bed.

Despite the hatred he felt for the man, the tiniest part of Varian felt immensely grateful for that.

Seeing that his daughter was unharmed and had likely (hopefully) sustained no real harm, Varian cradled the fussing newborn back to his chest.

His legs quickly gave out under the weight of the night and Varian harshly fell to his knees. His daughter was clutched so tightly to his chest he was sure he was suffocating her.

She was still crying, which he took as a good sign, despite how much it pierced through his heart and soul and sanity.

Varian shoved his face into her neck, her cries reverberating through him. But she was there which was all he could ask for. His hot tears dribbled and mixed with hers.

“I’m sorry.” Was all his weak voice could muster in the moment.

He was sorry for everything. For bringing her into this world and for keeping her in it.

 

___

 

The young father sat like that for a moment. Shaking, crying, dry heaving, with a thoroughly traumatized newborn wailing and trembling in his arms.

Once again, and unsurprisingly, the tent flap opened, the sharp chill suffocating Varian.

A warm light entered, engulfing the darkness and outshining his own pathetic, dim lamp. Varian hunched in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut and further shielding his child.

The girl continued to fuss but Varian made an attempt to stifle his crying. Unsuccessfully, but he refused to look weak in front of Andrew.

He refused to look, but he heard Andrew bend down and felt the warmth of the firelight wash over him. He could feel the man’s presence. He was warm, almost suffocatingly so. He smelled like cedar and musk and the smoke of hell. Instinctively, Varian flinched backwards as Andrew lowered himself near the pair.

He noticed a tan hand brush over the baby's cheek, and he heard an almost affectionate sounding hum. Andrew almost sounded sad.

Almost. Because he was Andrew. He never felt affection for anyone.

“Poor thing. You’re having a bad night and your friends aren’t helping you are they?”

Varian, exhausted and against his better judgement, growled hoarsely “they’re not her fucking friends.”

Yet he still refused to look the man in the eye, the man so close their breaths almost mingled.

He tasted like cherry wine.

A soft hum sounded through the small tent, tinted orange with the mingling glow of the lamps. “True, she is just a baby. But the Separatists Of Saporia are a family, and we look out for each other. Especially our weakest members.” His hand continued to cradle her cheek and her cries quieted only slightly. Varian still refused to look the man in the eye. Either due to his innate rebellion to his captor, or a genuine fear of looking pure evil in the eye.

“I’m sorry Juniper acted like that, I’ll talk to her. Hopefully she won’t bother you anymore. She’s not a very maternal person, she doesn’t get that crying is the only way this little thing-“ Andrew gently pinched the baby’s chubby cheek “can communicate. You’re just having a bad night aren’t you baby girl?”

Varian bit his injured lip and risked a glance. Andrew had a fond expression on his face, the cries seemingly barely fazing him. He rubbed circles onto the girl’s cheek. He quickly caught Varian’s eye before he could look away.

Varian shrunk back as the man lifted a hand to gently cradle Varian’s chin.

And Varian, thoroughly exhausted and worn, and desperate for any form of positive attention, desperate for touch, leaned into the palm, letting Andrew support his head.

The hand was so warm and supportive and gentle, and the slight reprieve from keeping himself upright led Varian to another bout of soft tears.

“I couldn’t, I couldn’t calm her down. I tried- I tried feeding her and rocking her and-and everything and I just couldn’t- I coul-coul-couldn’t-“ Varian hiccuped and his throat tightened and no more words could pass. Andrew seemed to understand him though. The hand moved to the back of Varian’s head and pressed him to his chest, carding his fingers through unwashed hair, only stopping to rub knots out of the boy’s neck; while the other hand embraced him and the child and rubbed small circles into his back. An awkward embrace, but a soothing one.

Against his better judgement, Varian nuzzled into Andrew’s stubbled neck as the man shushed him gently.

Varian sobbed, his cries drowning out his small child who’s upset was only furthered by the sound of her father in distress. He shook as his form was wracked with sobs and his face, stomach, and throat burned. He was exerted and exhausted yet his body only let him feel fear and hysteria.

Fear for him, fear for his daughter, homesickness and desperation for his own father and his sister, desperation for love and validation. Anger at everyone and everything. At Andrew. At himself.

Pain. So, so much pain.

And despite this, despite how annoying he was sure he was being. Despite how pathetic he was, clinging to his captor, his abuser, crying in the middle of the night; Andrew continued to soothe him. Holding him upright when he couldn’t any more. Squeezing him and whispering soft reassurances into his hair.

Varian felt as if he were going to fall apart, like he deserved to fall apart. But Andrew was holding him together in a rare, loving embrace.

It was like he was fifteen again, in a dark and cold prison cell, being held by his only friend and mourning his father, deeply afraid and angry.

The thought almost pierced through him, tearing open the wall of memories of just how awful Andrew truly was, of how horribly he treated him as a young boy.

Almost, because his embrace was so loving it held that wall together.

Together, father and daughter wore themselves out and their crying began to cease.

Andrew’s nails scratched the base of Varian’s skull so right he almost purred. He could feel himself drifting off, his weight almost completely being supported by the larger body holding him. The baby had begun to drift off too, sniffly hiccups and a blotchy red face the only indicator of her meltdown. She begun to nuzzle into Varian’s shoulder and his hold began to weaken as he drifted out of consciousness.

“Give me the baby Varian, I’ll keep her while you get some much needed rest.” His rough voice murmured into Varian’s forehead, followed by a chaste kiss.

Varian hummed unhappily. He cracked open his eyes and Andrew gave him…

The most reassuring and fond look Varian had ever received. Nothing but pure love and adoration in his eyes as he whispered once again “give me the baby, V. I’ll take care of her.”

The idea of leaving his baby alone, of leaving his baby with someone as dangerous as her father, of being separated from her even briefly, sent a cold pit of dread to Varian’s stomach. Settling right where his daughter had nuzzled into the soft fat of his abdomen as she was placed to rest in his lap.

And Varian wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion, or the feeling of his heart melting oh so slightly, or the innate knowledge that fighting Andrew was a pointless endeavor, or even all three; but Varian felt warmth. He wrapped an arm around Andrew and buried his face into his shoulder. Tiredly, he could only give a soft “stay.”

The cold and the warmth rivaled inside him, making him feel feverish and sick. The cold froze his insides and the warmth burned his heart as he felt Andrew gently remove Varian from the embrace to pick up his baby- their baby.

Andrew positioned the small thing into his arms and she barely protested, only letting out a soft whine as she left the embrace of her beloved daddy. In an instant, it felt like a piece of Varian had been ripped away from him.

A piece he never wanted, yet he never wanted to leave him.

It made him sick how he had never asked for this pain yet couldn’t bear to go without it.

But she seemed so content in his arms.

Interrupted from his musings, an arm hooked under his and hoisted him up, supporting him the short distance to his little makeshift bed. Varian’s weak legs gave out once again, and he let out a soft “oomph” as he crashed into the cushions, the cheap, old mattress creaking under the duress.

It felt like fighting heaven, being cradled by clouds as he was forced to give into the sleep clawing at his eyes. Andrew gently settled himself down, holding the finally quiet newborn.

For the first time all night, she had finally gone silent. The only sound filling the tent were the howling winds and her little snores, and Andrew’s almost inaudible humming.

Andrew had managed to quiet the baby down. And maybe, she had just worn herself out. Exhausted herself until she had no more tears left to cry.

But maybe, just maybe, Andrew cared enough to settle her.

He had nothing to gain from waking up in the middle of the night to calm both Varian and his screaming child down, right? Up until now baby duties had been left to Varian. Receiving little to no comfort or support throughout the few weeks.

So maybe, just maybe, Andrew was starting to care.

Maybe…

The thought comforted Varian, filling him with warmth as his worn out mind finally allowed itself to rest. Secure in the knowledge they were safe for now.

Varian ignored the intrusive thought in his head, the logical part of his mind reminding him of Juniper’s last words before being thrown out.

Varian ignored the thoughts and settled into the feeling of relief, that maybe things would be okay.

Because Andrew hadn’t hurt them.

 

___

 

When Varian woke up, Andrew was gone. He hadn’t seen him for the rest of the day, as Andrew was tending to duties more important than coddling him. The chill set back on and stayed with him all day.

It just wasn’t as cold as it was before.

Notes:

Wow what a healthy couple 🖤 they’re putting New Dream to shame for sure.

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

Summary:

Varian muses on his conflicting feelings towards his child. Also, Andrew sucks.

So really nothing new is happening.

Notes:

Just a quick heads up for some brief malicious misgendering and also the typical content warnings that go with this story. You probably know what’s up by now.

I’m a little excited by this one so I hope you guys enjoy! I also know I’m terribly slow at replying to comments, but I really adore y’all’s feedback. They keep me excited about writing this 🖤

Varian had always wanted children.

Ever since he was little he enjoyed playing with dolls, treating them like real babies and caring for them the way a parent would, emulating his own father and mother. (Before he accidentally melted said dolls in acid.) The desire only grew stronger when he became an uncle, caring for his niece and nephew like they were his own. He adored the idea of having a family of his own, of providing and caring for someone. Of being someone who was looked up to and relied on. And maybe it wasn’t a desire that was at the forefront of his mind, but it was always something he had dreamed of.

A little child who looked up to him, who saw him as their guiding light, and trusted him. He’d get to read alchemy textbooks and Flynn Rider to them as they slept. He’d get to push them on the swings while he pointed out constellations. He’d get to sneak sweet treats with them. He would get to watch as they ran around with his niece and nephew. He would snuggle up on the couch as his father played with his grandchild. He would swap funny parenting stories with Rapunzel as the kids studied together. Someday… always someday. Someday he’d have a family.

He just never expected it to be so soon. He never expected it to be now, to be here.

Not in this family.

Varian no longer wants children.

Varian stared down at the baby. She was three weeks old, unnamed, and objectively boring. And a thorn in Varian’s side.

Varian loved her so much. Varian wished she were never born.

The little thing, affectionately nicknamed “little thing,” stared up at her father with her big blue eyes, eyes that were developing little flecks of green in them. She reached a tiny fist out, a wordless request for Varian to stick something in the tiny little hands, and pouted a spitty pout when her father merely sat there, staring at her.

The two were out in the cool grass. It was still winter, but the country they were in was warm, leading to December being a relatively comfortable month. Warm enough for Varian to sit out with his kid whilst everyone packed up to move locations. The sun was bright and clouds drifted lazily across the sky. The grass was still dewy beneath Varian, and the breeze was chill; but Varian had already accepted the loss of the comforting warm and balmy weather of Corona.

She gurgled softly and stretched shakily in her little blueberry patterned onesie, and Varian simply blinked down at her. She yawned, and Varian hummed. She babbled, and Varian sighed.

He looked over to the others, inwardly grateful he wasn’t needed at the moment. Things were still tense with Juniper and he truly had no desire to interact with any of the Separatists.

They had all assisted in his capture. They had all hurt him in some way.

At least Andrew never hit him. As loathe as he was to admit it.

Varian rubbed a sore spot on his temple where Kai had taken out his frustration. He winced slightly harder when the little thing let out a screech. She smacked her lips, a clear hunger cue.

Varian groaned. He slowly shifted himself into a seated position. He was still sore all over. His life of sleeping in luxurious royal beds had been replaced with sleeping on the ground in thin tents. Clementine offered no real assistance in helping Varian to heal from the extremely traumatic birth (He’s sure he tore something. He’s too scared to look…) other than the occasional herbal remedy when he laid the dramatics on thick. If he was annoying enough with the whining, he got willow bark.

Varian lifted the small girl from her spot on the grass. She clenched her chubby little hands as Varian settled her on his knee, which was pulled close to his chest as the other one stretched out. He nuzzled her close as he lifted his loose, dark cotton shirt, and got the two of them situated to feed.

Varian glanced over to the group, growing larger and larger as time went by and people joined the group, believing they could join the pursuit of justice and unity. The group of people unfamiliar to him.

The group of people already trained to hate him for what he did to the movement. People so deep in Andrew’s lies, Varian wasn’t sure he could save them…if he even wanted to. If he felt like looking out for anyone other than himself with how exhausted he was. He struggled to keep his head up anymore. And with how they treated him with no thought to the blatant manipulation- Varian just didn’t care anymore.

Which he hated himself for. He was just so tired. He was so angry. Maybe when he was healed, he would try and reach out.

Varian tightened his hold, shielding the nursing baby as the group of people took notice of him. Varian flushed a deep red at how exposed he felt. Like he was on display- either for ridicule or pity.

He looked down, his messy bangs shielding his face. He could feel their eyes burn him. He could feel his throat tighten needlessly at the attention. Meanwhile the baby fed happily and content. Varian wanted to throttle her.

Varian heard a distant muttering. “And she calls herself a boy.”

A tear fell; and he made way to stand, awkwardly, with a baby still attached to his breast.

He wasn’t going to sit there any longer, he couldn’t.

The grass was slick under his feet, it took effort not to slip and fall and send the both of them crashing. His hold was tight as he ventured his way into the nearby woods- quiet, empty, and safe.

The baby breathed loudly and annoyingly as Varian weaved past trees with no direction or destination. He wanted to be in the thick of it, him and his baby, safe from the others. A brief moment of reprieve as she fed.

Thicker clouds were forming overhead, a storm was sure to come soon.

He leaned against a tree and felt the bark scratch his back as he sat down. He took a few deep breaths to regulate his crying, a few stray tears landing on the poor child. Varian carefully wiped them off with his thumb.

It took a few moments, but everything turned calm. She fed happily, soft breaths against his breast, with her little hand coming up to knead at the skin. She had the faintest little blush on her cheeks- one she got every time she ate.

Varian smiled softly.

She was a pain, she was the reason he was stuck here for the rest of his natural life. She got him into trouble. All she did was sleep, shit, and scream. She got on his last nerve. She was a burden he didn’t want, yet was forced to carry.

But she was also his child.

She didn’t ask to be born into this world. She was innocent and vulnerable. The tiniest little thing with the biggest blue eyes and the biggest yawns, who loved napping on his chest. She was his baby.

Varian’s smile was sad, with a furrowed brow and dried tear tracks as he caressed the baby's cheek with his thumb. It occurred to him that maybe he should actually try to name her.

A gust of wind made him shiver, and the baby’s face scrunched up as Varian popped her off. He noticed she had a tendency to overfeed, and her cries after she filled her belly too full broke his heart.

“What should I name you?” He murmured as he cradled the baby to his chest, his dark shirt falling back over him. Varian yawned and stretched out onto the grass, his child dozing peacefully against his chest, her little limbs splayed out. Varian kept a careful hand on her back to steady her.

“Eugene would kill me if I gave you a shitty name.” He joked.

Varian hummed as he stared up at the clouds, bits of skylight peeking through the heavy forest. He could hear his baby snoring softly. Peaceful and content.

Despite the peaceful atmosphere and the break from how awful he felt, Varian couldn’t stop the overwhelming grief that choked him. The grief he felt as he thought about the family his daughter would never meet.

Eugene would never know her name.

His daughter would never meet her grandfather, her aunt, her uncle.

It was just going to be them, and the Saporians. She was cursed to live with a fake family, full of people who didn’t really love her. Opposed to her real family, who would adore her the second they saw her.

Rapunzel would have been so excited. She would’ve painted a nursery, she would have offered to babysit, she would have supported Varian through all the sleepless nights. She would have adored her niece endlessly.

She would have helped him name her.

If only she could have known.

“What would Rapunzel name you?”

The baby’s head tilted towards him, the sun shining on her big eyes. Big blue eyes, with little flecks of green in them. Green she had inherited from Andrew, but looked more reminiscent of Rapunzel’s emerald eyes.

The idea that all she would have of her aunt were similar eyes made his heart ache. She deserved more, Rapunzel deserved more.

He wouldn’t even be able to tell her stories.

She yawned and laid her head back on her fathers chest. Varian tilted his head back to the clouds, trying his best not to dwell on the unfixable. His daughter wouldn’t know her aunt, she wouldn’t have anything from her.

The clouds parted to reveal the sun once again.

She could have her name.

The name given to her many years ago, before a witch stole her and named her after the flower that gave her life. Before a witch stole her and used her for her own selfish purposes, being stolen from her family and abused, with no hope of escaping.

Varian vaguely remembered Rapunzel and him doodling away, the princess sharing stories from her time in the tower, satiating Varian’s own morbid curiosity and giving her a place to vent.

“My name was actually Elizabeth before Gothel renamed me. And it’s not like I wanted to change my name when I came back, yaknow? It might not have been the name I was given, but it’s what I was called my entire life. And I like Rapunzel. I still wanted to hold onto it. That may have been the name she gave me, but it’s still mine. I’m choosing to make it mine.
But I think Elizabeth is still really pretty. We agreed to make it my middle name, even if no one really knows about it anymore.”

“So your name is officially Princess Rapunzel Elizabeth Der Sonne Fitzherbert of Corona and The Dark Kingdom?”

Rapunzel giggled softly “yup!”

Varian was broken from his memory by a sharp yell. The voice pierced through his heart, and he could feel his breaths begin to quicken. Varian scrambled to get up and in the process, the child slipped from his grasp, plopping down onto his lap. He quickly scooped her up and stood on unsteady legs. She whined angrily.

Andrew towered over him, his glare burning and his snarl making Varian want to curl in on himself.

Andrew rarely ever let himself look angry.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was even, but Varian knew him well enough to know he was livid. The slight growl in his voice made the boy want to throw up.

But Varian was nothing if not stubborn, and he stood his ground. “Sorry I didn’t exactly feel like being stared down by everyone. Forgive me for wanting a little peace and quiet.” His lip curled into a sneer, he did his best to give Andrew the same look he was given.

The brunette's eyes narrowed as he roughly grabbed Varian’s chin, nails digging into the soft, freckled skin “Really? Because it’s kind of looking to me like you’re trying to run off again.”

Varian ripped his head away from the hold, red welts left from the scratch “I’m offended you think so little of me. I’ve already made my peace with being your bitch, sorry I tried to exist ten feet away from you. I’ll be a better dog next time.” His words were laced with sardonic venom, and he took joy in seeing Andrew’s failing calm facade start to crack at his words.

Andrew may have been able to play him like a fiddle when he was younger, but Varian knew all the ways to make him falter.

“I’ll play your little game better next time. We can play house. I’ll be your little housewife and I’ll stay by your side all day long. I’ll even get a pretty little apron, too.”

Varian took a step forward, Andrew took a step backward. Varian felt high off the small victory.

“I’ll take care of the baby while you work hard for our little family, work for the pursuit of justice,
and I’ll never question you because you are our fearless and unfailing leader who would never do anything to hurt us.”

Varian batted his eyelashes and grinned manically as Andrew took deep breaths to calm himself “I’ll dote on you. I’ll let you fuck me into the ground at a moment’s notice. I’ll build you weapons, an arsenal in fact. I’ll be your loyal little wife, right by your side. All you ever wanted, right? Never questioning, just blind obedience. Just some mindless little tool for you to use.”

“I’ll be everything you groomed me to be.” The words were dripping with malice as Varian glared lowly at the man. His limbs were still shaking, his heart still racing, but he couldn’t help but feel pure euphoria at putting his abuser in his place, even for a second.

Even if in an instant, he knew he was going to pay for it, as Andrew’s features smoothed out into a calm authoritarian’s. His eyes however, still betrayed the underlying malice.

“Give me the kid.” He stated simply. Varian felt his heart drop. Any sense of dignity and strength rapidly leaving him at the words- the blatant threat.

Andrew must have immediately noticed Varian’s entire being go cold, his arms tightening around the still sleeping baby, and his eyes widening, rapidly filling with tears.

“N-no- no I can’t-“

Andrew smiled “Relax, you’re clearly upset and stressed. Just let me take the baby for a few hours while you go get some work done. Clear your head with some alchemy, yeah?”

He cupped Varian’s chin, a far cry from the clawing grip from earlier. It felt like burning ice against his skin.

And suns dammit, Varian knew what he was doing. Punishing him, but in a way that made it hard to resist. So subtle you even questioned if it was a punishment. Yet still designed to teach you whatever lesson Andrew wanted you to learn.

Varian fucking knew it, he knew what he was doing. But the grip grew tighter and he could feel himself lose any and all fight he had as Andrew looked over him and his daughter.

Varian knew what Andrew was doing to him, but he couldn’t fight back. Andrew had the upper hand now. He would always have the upper hand.

Even if he knew, logically, Andrew wouldn’t do anything to ruin the leverage he had over him- Varian couldn’t help but dread what lesson Andrew was about to teach him.

“Don’t you dare hurt her” He spit out.

The man clicked his tongue and cooed, moving his hand to pinch the baby’s cheek. The newly developed fatherly instincts in Varian were telling him to run.

“I’m hurt that you think so little of me. I just want to spend some time with my daughter, that's all. And heavens knows you clearly need the break.”

Varian bit his lip.

“Go take a break, Varian.” The baby winced at the hurtful pinch to her cheek.

If looks could kill, Andrew would be dead ten times over as Varian reluctantly passed the baby over with his trembling arms. Andrew smiled as he situated the baby in his hold, clearly unfamiliar with the weight but adjusting quickly. He cooed fondly at the girl.

The brief scene of father and daughter bonding made Varian’s stomach violently turn. But, in a way, it almost made him feel fond.

Which only made him feel sicker.

 

____

 

Varian fiddled with the pipette as he made his way to a clear beaker. His mind was elsewhere as he dropped a few drops of the dyed liquid.

The small lab was unimpressive, especially by Varian’s standards. He had been spoiled by a castle laboratory, fully stocked by the princess herself. With the ability to order whatever he wanted at a moment's notice. Coronan tax money, all his to spend. A large room with large windows, bright lighting, and painted doodles dotting the walls.

Now, he was in a meager caravan room. Dark and with only a box full of supplies and a rotten smell permeating the air. Left not to his own devices, but left to create whatever Andrew wanted him to.

Which were usually weapons.

Varian really hoped no one else got their hands on mustard gas. Or it could spell disaster.

The beaker turned a beautiful purple, Varian hummed, pleased at the reaction, and quickly grabbed his weathered notebook to begin taking notes. It was a pointless experiment, really. He was working on artificial dyes that were harmless when ingested. A project Rapunzel had come up with, in her desire to make her cookies more interesting.

A pointless experiment, but finally Varian was allowed to do something he wanted to do. And it got his mind off of the fact that his child was currently in the custody of the man who threatened to murder her the night she was born.

His pen furiously scribbled onto the old paper, which tore under the friction. Varian huffed angrily. Before he could angrily throw the notebook at a wall, he was pulled from his soured thoughts by the caravan door opening.

So much for getting his mind off Andrew.

“Whatcha working on, buddy?”

Andrew strolled in, carefree, practically sauntering his way to Varian’s meager desk. The boy didn’t hesitate to glare at the man, who only smirked in response.

“Just a side project, nothing really.” He muttered.

Andrew hopped onto the desk, the wood creaking under his weight. He paid no mind to the rattling of beakers and glasses as he sat. Varian huffed and rolled his eyes.

Andrew picked up the beaker full of purple liquid and eyed it as Varian was helpless to stop him from poking around his work like he always did.

At least when Lance and Eugene bothered him, it was fun. They cared about what Varian made. Andrew just put him on edge, without a care in the world for what Varian did that he didn’t assign him.

“It’s supposed to be a food dye. It’s a colorant that’s safe to consume. It’s still in the early stages, though, so I wouldn’t recommend drinking it.”

Andrew hummed, then smirked down at Varian “and I’m assuming you’re not going to heed your own warnings?”

Varian, surprising himself, gave a small grin and shrugged, “a scientist needs to test his project somehow. I usually test my stuff on myself.”

“Well don’t come crying to me if you start vomiting up purple.”

Against his better judgement, Varian snorted. “I think I’ll just slip it into Kai’s food, actually. I think his stomach can handle anything. I saw him eat deadly nightshade the other night and not even blink.”

“Is it because you slipped him deadly nightshade?” Andrew asked teasingly.

Varian felt his heart stutter, even though he knew it was a joke. But his entire body was screaming at him to just keep the easy atmosphere after the tenseness of earlier, so he just replied “nah. I think Clementine did.”

That got a loud laugh out of Andrew. Varian felt the tiniest swell of pride. He hated himself for it.

He was just happy that Andrew wasn’t angry with him. That was all.

Andrew shot Varian a grin “Remind me to keep an eye out for purple food. With your track record, it will probably blow up in our stomachs or something.”

Varian faux glared “Hey! Not everything I make explodes…sometimes it implodes.”

Andrew shook his head fondly whilst he laughed. Varian couldn’t help but laugh slightly as well.

He couldn’t help but admire the way the light hit Andrew’s messy brown hair from the tiny window, pulled up early in the morning, but locks falling throughout the day, likely having been pulled at by tiny hands. Varian’s own hair having succumbed to the fate of his daughter's curious and rather grabby nature before.

Andrew set the beaker down, the sound of glass hitting wood reverberating throughout the tiny room. Varian picked at his gloves when the silence began to grow heavy in the air. Andrew looked over to him, seemingly studying him.

“How’s the-“

“I’ve got a new project for you!”

Varian felt his heart stutter.

The brunette pulled out a rolled up piece of paper from the pocket of his brown trousers. Varian hesitantly grabbed it and unrolled it, the parchment revealing a haphazardly drawn up plan for…

A collar.

“I was thinking of something that we could use to keep any prisoners of war, when the time comes, in place without having to hurt them too badly. An unremovable collar that harms the wearer when they stray too far from whoever put it on them. It’s a little bit of a complex idea, I know. But if anyone can make my ideas come to life, it’s you Varian. You make dreams come true.”

Varian could recognize Andrew’s blatant flattery from a mile away. But he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in his chest, even as he was asked to make something truly horrific.

“I- I don’t know if I can make something like this. This is, really complex I mean I-“

Varian swallowed as he stared at the blueprint. Making weapons was one thing. A horrifying thing, but there was just enough cognitive dissonance that it wasn’t too awfully painful to be forced to create something with the sole intention of harming someone.

But this was so much more personal.

A collar, unremovable, designed to harm whoever disobeyed Andrew. A humiliating torture device. Varian felt sick.

“I can’t do this, Andrew. I’m not making this.” He slammed the parchment down onto the desk. The sound of paper slapping down filled him with dread. He never disobeyed Andrew like this, he knew he always paid for it in one way or the other.

But he couldn’t in good conscience create something this deranged and inhumane. Andrew didn’t deserve that kind of power over anyone.

Andrew sighed dramatically as he glared down at Varian, his mood souring enough to make the boy's knees weak.

“I figured you’d say that.” He sighed dramatically as he leaned back onto his hands on the desk. “It’s a shame really. You’re so smart and talented, only you could make something so complex. So revolutionary.”

Varian glared at the blatant flattery.

Andrew ignored him, and continued, laying the dramatics on thick “I can’t have anyone else design it, you’re the only one I trust to not make it too deranged. Besides, I know you, you’d enjoy this little challenge wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not making this, Andrew.”

Andrew’s smile turned strained. He narrowed his eyes, once against studying Varian as he struggled to hold up a confident demeanor under his scrutinizing gaze.

“How about this? You make the collar, and I let you see the kid again, hmm? Once you’re done, you should be cooled off enough to be with her.”

And there was the punishment.

Varian closed his eyes and tried to take in deep breaths, the way Rapunzel showed him, to keep down the tidal wave of emotions drowning him.

He wanted to scream. To fight Andrew to the ground and kill him. He wanted to run off and get his daughter and run away to Corona where they would be safe and loved endlessly. No threats, no working for love, no cold loneliness, no lies, no being forced to hurt others. Just being embraced and welcomed home with their family. Being cuddled on the sofa as Rapunzel played with her new baby niece and Varian was curled into Eugene’s side as he fretted over him, his fingers untangling the knots in his hair. His dad would be in the kitchen nearby, still in sight, as he cooked a hearty dinner. The girls would be playing with the twins in front of the fireplace. Maybe Lance would be off to the side, playing piano.

Varian opened his eyes, he could see Andrew smiling at him knowingly through the film of tears.

The tidal wave simmered down into a calm ocean. Exhausted from the raging storm.

“Give me a week.”

Andrew looked pleased at his response, practically preening at Varian’s weakened state.

“Perfect. I’ll get you whatever supplies you need. I’m sure it will be perfect, buddy.”

Andrew made way to stand, but Varian quickly caught him as he grabbed his arm desperately. “Wait! How- how is she? Is she okay? Does she- does she miss me?”

Andrew gave him a comforting smile. It did nothing to ease the father’s nerves.

“She’s fine. A little fussy, but I think we’re getting along splendidly. And don't worry-“ he took Varian’s hand off his arm, and held it in his own “She misses her daddy plenty.” He squeezed Varian’s hand. It wasn’t reassuring.

Varian didn’t say anything in response, simply nodding his head and letting Andrew run his finger over the gloved knuckle. He missed the contact when Andrew broke away.

“Tell her I miss her too, and I’ll see her soon.” He mumbled and turned away from him, feeling overwhelmingly tired.

Andrew chuckled fondly. Varian wanted to hit him.

“You really need to name that kid” Andrew lifted himself up from the desk, wandering around the little work area, darkening from the setting sun, towards the door “or I will. I’m thinking-“

“Eliza.” Varian quickly muttered out. Andrew turned to him, his eyebrow quirking in curiosity.

“I uh, I named her Eliza. It’s short for Elizabeth.”

Andrew crossed his arms and hummed in contemplation. His lips pursed, and then a content expression formed on his face. The relief hit the alchemist like a ton of bricks.

“Elizabeth, I like it. It’s strong, it’s pretty. Any particular reason you chose it?”

Varian but his lip and darted his eyes “no, I just thought it was pretty, and I couldn’t think of anything else I liked.”

If Andrew could sense the lie, he chose to ignore it. He shrugged his shoulders and walked out the door.

“Elizabeth The Separatist Of Saporia has a nice ring to it, I have to say.”

The words felt like salt in his wounds.

 

____

 

One week was shortened to three days as Varian worked tirelessly to perfect the prototype shock collar.

Andrew had already told him just one would do, all they needed for now was a prototype. But Varian knew it had to be perfect.

He had barely slept, working as much as his mind and body would physically let him. He only allowed himself the quickest sponge bath to keep himself from gagging at his own body odor. His muscles were sore and his skin heavy with sweat, but he persevered.

Andrew would come in periodically with food and water, offering him the only company Varian would get in the dark caravan room. Unwanted company, it was distracting as he tried to just finish the damn thing so he could go outside and feel the sun breathe air that wasn’t sullied by his own body odor and excrement.

So he could see Eliza.

Varian could hear the others muttering from outside, frustrated that their moving plans had been stalled for yet another of Andrew’s whims. He knew Andrew must not have been around, or their complaining would be quickly silenced. Varian strained to hear any sign of his child, despite knowing how fruitless the attempt was.

This was his punishment for disobeying. And there was no way Andrew would let him hear even a peep from his daughter. Left alone to wonder if she was even alive. He shot down all of Varian’s attempts to ask after her, each shot down question like a stab to his heart.

Was she okay? Did she miss him? Was she sleeping okay? Were they feeding her enough? Were they letting her overfeed? He hoped they soothed her when her tummy ached, instead of just letting her cry. Oh suns, he hoped she wasn’t crying right now.

Why did the universe keep separating him from those he loved?

Ever since she was born, she was practically glued to Varian’s side. Maybe in another timeline, he would be grateful for the break. For three days of time devoted to engineering.

But not here, never here, he missed her so much it hurt. He just wanted his baby back, safe and in his arms.

A screw fell loose from the receiver as he tried to connect the torture device to the metal collar. Varian yelled in frustration and threw the collar angrily towards the wall. He only felt slight relief as it clattered pathetically onto the floor.

Varian, too, crumpled onto the floor, exhausted. He glanced over to a bouquet of flowers, supposedly hand picked by Andrew to “brighten the place up a little.”

Maybe, just maybe, Andrew genuinely thought he needed a break from parenting duties a bit, giving him a project to keep him occupied so he felt a little bit more like Varian and not just like Dad.

Varian shook his head and got back to work. Eliza was waiting for him.

By the end of the day, he was finished.

At home, he was used to staying in his lab for weeks, more or less relying on his dad or Eugene to pull him out to get fresh air and sunlight. The castle staff joked that he was some sort of ghost, a gremlin who stayed in the basement, his appearances above ground rare.

But it didn’t really surprise him at how desperate he was to be relieved of his “break.” He wanted to go outside, to breathe in fresh air, to feel the sun on his skin, to interact with people again. To see his daughter.

It was reminiscent of his time in prison.

Somehow, those were the simpler times.

He felt his shoulders slump in relief when he heard Andrew come in. Varian turned to him, exhausted and weak.

“It’s finished, I’m finally finished! Come, come.” He excitedly beckoned Andrew over, he tried to run to him, but he tripped over his own feet. The man caught him swiftly, chuckling lightly.

Varian flushed as Andrew kept a hand on his shoulder, guiding Varian through the messy workspace towards the desk. If he weren’t so tired, his nerves would be alight.

He grabbed the collar. It was simple in design. Varian had gotten quite talented at hiding the intricacies of his mechanics under a fashionable design. A simple metal collar, with a chunky black box- the receiver. Two tiny metal prongs poked from the inside. The metal bands were thick and unadjustable-he’d find a way to make them more versatile for different sizes. For now, he was just basing them off the size of his own neck, under Andrew’s advisement. He hoped to find a way to make them smaller. For now, it would nearly encompass anyone's throat.

It was an unassuming little thing. If one didn’t know any better, they would assume it was simply a large choker. Especially with the little metal loop under the receiver Varian thought would add a bit of style. (Perhaps one could add a charm to it? Anything to rid how utterly dehumanizing it was) But Varian knew how powerful it was. He couldn’t help but be impressed with himself.

Tilting the collar in his hands and inspecting it, Andrew commented “Looks good buddy. So, what’s it do?”

“I’m glad you asked! Lately I’ve been experimenting with electricity. Before I er, left Corona, I was working on a way to make artificial light. In the process I shocked myself- multiple times.

I took inspiration from that and made this! The very first shock collar! It’s connected to this little thing-“ Varian excitedly handed Andrew a small box “through a wireless network I’ve also been experimenting with. If the collar isn’t within two miles of this box, it will shock the wearer. The longer they go without getting closer- or the farther they get- the harder they get electrocuted! Only someone with the key can remove it, if the wearer tries to remove it themself, they get shocked. What do you think?”

Andrew hummed and hawed as he inspected the collar, his features seeming just almost satisfied.

It was disappointing, to say the least. Varian put a lot of work into this project and was rather proud of it, despite the nature of it. It hurt to see Andrew not as happy with the work as he was.

Especially considering he knew what would happen if Andrew weren’t fully satisfied.

Varian took a deep breath to steady himself.

“This is perfect, V. I’m impressed.” Varian beamed under the praise. He flushed slightly as the man ruffled his hair.

“Thank you.” He earnestly replied.

“I’m proud of you, you know. For putting so much work into something you didn’t like at first. I appreciate you being open to the idea.” He glanced down at Varian, his expression bordering on condescending.

Varian‘s mood soured instantly. He glared at the man “it’s not like you gave me much of a choice.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes “and what’s that supposed to mean?” His question sounded genuine.

Varian bit his lip. His temper had already gotten him in trouble once lately, he knew he shouldn’t risk it again. For his and his child’s well being.

He missed her so much. He had no idea being apart from her could hurt so badly. She was all he could think about as he repeatedly shocked himself these past few days. He was so excited to see her again, to hold her in his arms and squish her chubby cheeks. To hold her against him as they napped.

But he was just so tired and angry.

“You’ve been holding my kid hostage until I make the damn thing. So yeah, not exactly a fun project of free will.” Varian deadpanned.

Unexpectedly, or rather completely expectedly, Varian didn’t even know anymore; Andrew had no real reaction. He brushed off the topic like a speck of dust and simply commented “you remember what you said the other day?”

“Excuse me?”

“The thing about always being the one to test out your own work? An admirable quality, really.”

Varian felt his heart drop.

Andrew pressed the collar into Varian’s hands. He bit his lip, eyes welling with tears and his heart racing so hard it was painful.

The collar was heavy in his hands. So very heavy, like a brick of lead. Like the weight of all his guilt and regret crashing into his arms.

The weight wasn’t necessarily from the object itself, no, but from what the object was.

It was a shock collar, designed by him, for him. A torture device.

His punishment.

All Varian could let out was a choked sob.

How could he be so stupid?

The imprisoned alchemist felt more than he heard Andrew’s presence behind him. Long arms snaked around the still boy and grabbed the object of disdain. Varian could feel him press against him, his back flush against the man. It made him tense so hard his muscles ached.

Varian stood helplessly as the cool metal pressed against his neck. He could feel Andrew’s long fingers as they fitted the contraption against him, just tight enough to be uncomfortable. It was heavy and the restrictive metal made the lump in his throat choke him even harder.

Varian struggled to breathe in and hold back the tears, hyperventilating and shaking as Andrew’s hands lingered on the base of his neck, before reaching around to press into his shoulders, fingers brushing against his collarbone.

“You wanna be my dog, yeah? Well here’s your collar.” He whispered into Varian’s ear.

Varian sobbed.

Notes:

I love implying wwi happens in the tangled universe

And also that Varian invents wifi/bluetooth in 1850 lol

The whole shock collar bit was a throwaway idea by Draco whilst I was planning this fic and it spiraled out of control. I love you my dearest beloved. The twink torture in this chapter is devoted to you 🖤

Chapter 6

Summary:

Eliza’s first steps and her first word! And Varian’s eightieth emotional crisis.

Notes:

There’s a short flashback to sexual assault towards the end of this chapter, the second to last scene. It’s not very detailed, but still be careful.

“Okay so the strawberries were a bust, which sucks because they’re cheaper in-season, but I’ve got a good feeling about blueberries. What about you?”

Eliza happily babbled in response from her makeshift high chair. Varian smiled.

“All right then! One jar of puréed blueberries, coming up!”

Varian dramatically mixed the small jar of baby food, making a small show out of the act. Eliza smiled gummily as her father dramatically placed the jar onto her little table.

The father smiled at the six-month-old’s delight. It was fun to see her be amazed by even the simplest things. She was so young, so new to the world. Every experience was a new one for her. She was excited to learn. The idea made Varian giddy. Because he got to be by her side the entire time. Guiding her, teaching her…

Eliza’s face wrinkled in disgust. Varian sighed.

Eliza spit the pureed fruit out, and Varian grumpily grabbed a napkin and cleaned up the mess. When he was finished, he placed his head onto the small counter on her high-chair.

“You’re six months old, Liz. You gotta start eating real food. You’re gonna dry me out here sooner than later.” For emphasis, he playfully patted his chest. He hoped there wasn’t an audience.

A small hand tangled in his hair and grabbed, Varian snorted. “Okay okay, we’ll wait a little while longer, yeah? Just a month though.”

Eliza babbled in agreement, Varian laughed, and took her little hand out of his hair. He winced as a strand or two came out due to her intense grip, but kissed the chubby little palm anyway.

He had been trying in vain for weeks to start his daughter on solids. She had just turned six months, and it was time to wean her. While he enjoyed the closeness and bonding aspect of nursing, and had enjoyed dissecting and studying his own breastmilk- (He could hear Eugene in the back of his mind chastising him for how gross he was being.) -He wasn’t a fan of nursing altogether, and was keen on getting his daughter started on actual food.

His daughter, however, was very content practically being attached to her father, and wasn’t as keen on the change.

Varian knew realistically, there was no problem in waiting. Those in his village would wean rather quickly. It was a farming town, they needed as much time as they could get. But the upper class? Those who had plenty of free time, well children could still be nursing by their third birthday.

The thought made Varian shudder. But either way, Eliza was developing fine. There was no need to worry. She was already sitting up on her own, rolling over to smother Varian in his sleep, and yanking his hair like it was the most entertaining thing to do.

Varian cooed and pinched her chubby cheek. She smiled gummily and reached for him once again. Varian playfully took a finger in his mouth, pretending to bite. He laughed as she squealed.

“What are you doing?”

Varian froze at the familiar voice. He felt a pit of dread sink in his gut.

Varian’s hand rose to ghost his fingers over the new collar around his neck, he quickly lowered it.

He felt Andrew approach him from behind as he struggled to raise his head. All he wanted to do was keep it low, to shrink and hide in on himself. To stop existing in his presence for a brief moment.

“I said, what are you doing?”

“I’m starting her on solids.”

Andrew hummed disapprovingly at that “she’s a little young for that, isn’t she?”

An ‘um actually, six months is the usual time babies start on solids, and i hate having something pulling on my tit every few hours so i’d really like to move things along thank you very much’ formed in the back of Varian’s throat; but it died as soon as he moved his head towards the man.

His throat ached in phantom pains.

Still, though, Varian responded with a light “six months is actually pretty normal where I'm from.” He nervously rubbed his neck and studied Andrew’s face for a response.

The older man shot him a look, and any confidence in Varian wilted.

“We’re not Coronan. More importantly, Eliza isn’t Coronan. She’s Saporian. And as a Saporian, she shouldn’t feel the need to rush her development. She should nurse until at least her first birthday.”

Varian winced. He knew there was no point in fighting back, there never was.

“Yes..yes sir.”

Andrew smiled at Varian, it did nothing to quell his nerves. A soft hand ran through his hair, and Varian flinched so hard it hurt. Luckily, the man didn’t respond, simply moving on to wherever he was going in the first place.

Varian sighed, energy depleted, and picked his daughter up, searching for somewhere a little more private. Somewhere he could hide for the rest of the day.

Eliza grabbed his hair again, and Varian laughed softly.

~~

Varian sunk into the bed cushion, sighing contently.

These moments of peace were rather rare. He was used to being alone, yes. But moments where he had no concerns, no tasks, and the general anxiety of his situation bled out of him for just a second, were rare.

He didn’t know where anyone else was and what they were doing. They stuck together, like a pack. Most of their time was spent in a makeshift camp. But they were humans. They had a common goal that kept them together, but they had hobbies, interests, lives. And it was nice whenever Varian was left alone in camp. He may have not been allowed freedom himself, but this would do.

Varian flipped the worn page of his physics textbook, a gift from Andrew, containing some knowledge he was, admittedly, unaware of and eager to learn.

The man focused on the small text, mind completely absorbed in the familiarity of the content, yet still excited by the small bits of information foreign to him. He was comfortably nestled in his bed, with a few blankets and pillows cocooning him.

A strong breeze rustled the quiet tent, causing the baby at the floor of the tent to stir, nestled in her own pile of blankets.

Eliza groaned and stretched her tiny limbs. Varian sighed softly.

“Go back to sleep baby, it’s okay” he cooed.

The eight month old, however, seemed to have other plans. Varian lowered his book, interest lost with his attention now on his daughter. He smiled as the small girl, rolled over on her tummy, looked around taking in her surroundings.

Eliza babbled grumpily and screwed her little face up. She looked her father in the eye, which he knew was a sign that he was needed. Varian groaned quietly.

“Lizzie, I’m comfy.” He whined. Eliza however did not care, as she continued to pout at her father.

Varian pouted back, which did not appease the baby. The young man sighed as he slowly made his way out of the bed, the rare moment of coziness put aside for his child’s fussiness.

Any annoyance was in the back of Varian’s mind as he watched his little girl pout, her intentions surely innocent. She had just been changed and fed before being left to play, having fallen asleep rather quickly. Clearly, she just wanted attention from her father. A desire he had no problem tending to.

He could relate, deeply.

Just as his socked foot hit the ground, Eliza’s limbs began to wobble as she lifted herself up.

Varian quickly retracted his foot with a gasp.

Eliza, with shaking limbs, held herself up on her hands and knees. She quickly looked to her father, who smiled brightly. Varian quickly crouched down next to his bed, a small distance from the girl, and opened his arms. Eliza stayed still however, briefly unsure, and hesitated to move. Her frustration was forgotten, now completely entrenched in her new task- crawling.

“Come on kiddo, you can do it, come on come on.”

This seemed to motivate the child, she smiled a gummy smile, only two front teeth in view, and hesitantly made her first move.

Varian could barely contain his squeal as Eliza crawled her way over to him. She quickly grew confident in the movements, and now her little hands were plapping quickly on the ground.

Varian was practically glowing. He was right here, witnessing one of his daughter’s very first milestones. He encouraged her as she clumsily made her way over to him.

Just as she was in arm’s reach, her exerted arms and legs gave out. Eliza quickly collapsed onto the thin tent ground, chin colliding with covered dirt.

Tears welled in big blue eyes as her lip wobbled. Varian quickly scooped the small child up into his arms.

A sob escaped the infant’s throat, and Varian shushed her lovingly as he bounced her in his hold. He kissed her head and cheeks. The soothing motions did little to calm the already fussy baby.

“It’s okay my love, it’s okay I got you. You had a pretty nasty fall there, huh? That’s okay, you did so well, I’m so proud of you.” Which was entirely the truth. He was practically giddy with pride. His little girl could crawl. She could crawl and crawl fast. She was a determined little thing, just like him.

“Sometimes you trip up a little bit when starting something new. But that’s okay, I know you’ll pick yourself back up again and keep going.”

Varian brushed a tiny lock of raven black hair away from her forehead. Tears dribbled down Eliza’s cheeks, collecting on the bruise slowly forming on her chin. Varian frowned.

“Sorry I didn’t catch you in time.” He whispered, guilt beginning to well in his gut.

Eliza sniffled snottily. Varian pressed a kiss to her forehead. The small girl, in turn, clumsily nuzzled his shoulder. Varian considered his apology accepted.

The guilt didn’t wane, but at this point, guilt was a familiar pit in his stomach. Without it, he felt empty.

Varian bit his lip. He tried his best not to, but it was far too easy to dwell on his failures as a father.

It was hard not to fail as a father when raising your child, completely on your own.

When you were forced to raise your child away from home, surrounded by people who wanted you dead.

Varian took a deep breath, trying his hardest to push those thoughts out of his head. He could dwell on that later, when his daughter was asleep. Right now, she needed him.

He continued to bounce the child in his arms “you wanna go outside love? Would fresh air make you feel better?” In response, she nuzzled her teary and snotty face against her father’s neck.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He chuckled.

The father tucked his daughter up under his chin, and mentally prepared himself to leave the relative comfort and safety of his tent. He chastised himself quietly, knowing there was likely no one outside. As far as he knew, the two of them were alone.

The thought put him at ease. He took a deep breath, and smiled softly at his little girl as she poked her head out.

Varian winced at the bright sunlight as he made his way out of the small tent. Eliza did the same, as she stuck her head back into the safety of her father’s neck. Varian cooed internally.

“I see someone’s finally awake.”

Any contentment and peace immediately disappeared at the raspy voice.

Andrew was lounging around an empty campfire. There was no one else in sight. Varian wasn’t sure if the emptiness furthered his anxiety, or put him at ease. All he knew was that being around Andrew set his nerves alight.

Any tense camaraderie between the two had long dissipated since their fight, but Varian knew Andrew was pushing himself back into Varian’s life whether he liked it or not.

Varian instinctively brushed his hands against the cold metal collar around his throat, resisting the urge to tug.

He wouldn’t give Andrew the satisfaction. He knew better this time.

Varian brushed him off, making his way to a more secluded patch of trees in the camp. He could hear the older man huff in amusement.

Andrew quickly got up, and made his way over to Varian, siding up alongside him. “I heard our Lizzie get a little fussy, did something happen?” He scratched under the baby’s chin, which caused her to let out another sob.

Varian tensed, and instinctively pulled away from the man. Andrew’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration.

“She fell.” Varian said, curtly.

Andrew hummed, then shrugged. He affectionately cradled the crying child’s head.

“Poor thing, hopefully she’ll calm down soon. Won’t you Liz? Can you be a big girl and hush up? You don’t see your daddy crying after every scrape.”

Before the horrified Varian could retort, his stomach clenched so hard a wave of nausea overtook him.

“I’ve seen him take far worse from Corona’s dungeons with hardly any tears.”

The father wrapped a protective hand around his daughter’s head, thick black hair peeking out from between his fingers. His glare was challenging, daring Andrew to say something again.

Daring Andrew to belittle either of them again.

“That’s enough, Andrew. She’s a baby.” He spat.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. Varian could’ve thrown up.

“I- I mean, she’s just a baby. That’s how she communicates. She doesn’t understand what’s going on other than that she hurts.”

Varian’s legs slowly began to struggle to keep the both of them up, but he stood his ground.

“How’d she fall?” Andrew hummed.

“She was crawling too fast and slipped.”

Varian hated the way his tone fell, the way his head hung in shame, as if this were his fault, as if Andrew’s domineering presence naturally inflicted shame on Varian. He hated it.

“I didn’t know she was crawling now, why didn’t you tell me?” The tone shifted, but Varian still couldn’t breathe.

“She just started.”

Eliza’s crying had quieted down, but Varian could feel how uneasy and upset she was. He gently ran his fingers through her hair and pressed her face against his shoulder, the only safe place he could think of.

“Poor thing, crawling for the first time and her daddy let her fall. It’s okay, bud, I got you.”

Varian opened his mouth to argue against the blatant jab, the line that felt like bait. But he could see the studious look in Andrew’s eyes, the maliciousness, and his throat tightened and ached, the heavy collar choking him. The defense died on his lips.

He could see the satisfaction in Andrew’s eyes. Varian could have killed him right there.

“My poor baby.” Andrew cooed, quickly plucking the infant from her father’s hold. Varian knew better than to protest. Despite the cold pit in his stomach, he let Andrew cradle his daughter as if he were the devoted and loving father.

‘As if he doesn’t just hold her when he wants to piss me off,’ Varian thought bitterly.

And unlike before, where she was either fussy at worst and oddly quiet at best in Andrew’s hold, Eliza brightened and began to babble incoherently. Andrew seemed to soften, his smile turning genuine.

They stood there for a moment. Andrew cooing over the baby, seemingly soaking in the moment with his daughter, and Varian hesitantly watching the interaction. Simultaneously calmed by his daughter’s delight and the pleasant mood, and desperate to take his baby girl and run away.

“She’s so precious,” Andrew whispered. He looked over to Varian with…one of the softer looks he had ever seen on the man. Genuine, earnest affection in his eyes. None of the performative love Varian had grown used to.

Eliza wiggled around in his hold, reaching to pull at the hair that had fallen throughout the day. Andrew chuckled and dodged the little grippers. She pouted spittily.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? Just like your daddy.”

Varian chuckled despite himself.

The scene was…admittedly cute. But that didn’t ease the relief Varian felt when Andrew sighed good-naturedly and plopped the baby back into Varian’s awaiting arms.

“I have some things to attend to. Keep an eye on your daddy” he winked. Varian smiled weakly.

His heart fluttered so faintly, so briefly.

He was just happy to have his daughter in his arms again. That was all.

Excitedly, Varian set the small girl onto the grass, and delighted as she crawled around his legs, reveling in the new-found freedom.

What little freedom she had.

~~

It wasn’t long after Eliza started crawling, that she attempted to walk. Just like her daddy, she was determined, always wanting to push herself more and more. Learning a little, and testing the limits of her knowledge. Devouring the world and its contents.

Or, she was a baby who was a little determined for her age. But Varian liked to think she was an exceptionally smart and motivated ten month old.

They had been playing out in the grass, a crawl-friendly version of fetch, when Varian had tossed the ball a little farther than Eliza could normally crawl to.

And Varian could have gone to get it for her, but as a good father, it was his job to challenge his child into pushing herself further.

She was already a very active child, clambering her way everywhere and already getting into trouble. (time in the lab was slowly getting shorter and shorter because the child couldn’t help but explore the less than safe parts of the caravan.)

Varian wanted to encourage this. He wanted her to be active, to explore, to be curious. It was a trait familiar to him, a trait a very dear friend of his shared. And he was going to nurture Eliza’s free spirit.

Also, he was comfortable seated in the grass under the sun. He didn’t want to get up.

Varian spared a glance to the empty plains, a vast expanse of land with buildings or civilization in sight. A good place to lay low for a while.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. A false sense of openness and freedom.

A vulture circled not too far overhead.

He was going to nurture her free spirit the best he could.

Varian bit his lip. A warm gust of wind blew in his face, smelling dry and arid. The sun was beginning to set, casting everything in a beautiful golden hue. The evening was still warm, but it was time to head in for the night

“What are you two up to this fine evening?” A soft voice hummed

Varian muttered a small “hey” to Andrew, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge the man.
Eliza, however, turned to the voice and beamed, babbling happy incoherent words.

“Hey beautiful! What are you doing all the way out there huh?”

The words were sweet, but Varian couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for letting his child wander so far. Andrew didn’t seem perturbed, his attention seemed solely on Eliza, who was rapidly crawling her way across the brown grass to greet her fathers.

Andrew lowered himself into a crossed legged seating position. He was more on Varian’s level now, which allowed the younger boy to catch a whiff of cologne the wind blew towards him.

“She’s fast,” the brunette chuckled. Varian simply hummed in agreement.

Not taking the hint (or choosing to ignore the hint, like he always did) Andrew nudged Varian’s shoulder. “She’s like you, you know. She’s a fast learner. She’s basically the spitting image of you too, I don’t think she got anything from me.”

Varian turned over to look at the man. The sun shone on him brightly, making him almost glow. Varian’s stomach flipped.

He wasn’t…he wasn’t doing this again. Andrew was just being nice. Andrew was just being Andrew. He didn’t actually care, he never cared. Varian wasn’t going to fall for this again, he wasn’t going to fall for the fake kindness, the fake small talk. He wasn’t going to let Andrew make him feel warm again.

He may have needed the man then, but he didn’t now. He was just fine on his own, him and his daughter.

He wasn’t doing this again.

But…the way his smile seemed so, so warm. He seemed so genuinely invested in his- their child. As the months went on, it seemed as if Andrew grew more and more attached to his daughter.

“She’s not walking yet, or talking.”

Andrew chuckled “she’s only ten months, and she just started crawling. And she’s definitely a bit of a chatterbox. Give her some time, don’t worry.”

“I know, I know. But still, she should have at least said her first word by now.” Varian mumbled. “I was already talking a little at her age”

Andrew hummed, but otherwise didn’t respond.

Varian scolded himself. Andrew didn’t care.

Varian wasn’t falling for this again.

Before Varian could beat himself up for opening up slightly to the man he swore he would never trust again, the man who destroyed his ability to trust for such a long time, Eliza stood on shaky legs.

Varian gasped, his face breaking into a wide grin.

Even Andrew brightened up.

“Eliza!” Varian exclaimed “oh my suns I’m so proud-“

Before Varian could get up and scoop his daughter up and smother her in a million kisses, Andrew’s arm shot out in front of him, stopping him.

Varian shot a glare before he could think better of it, but Andrew only smiled earnestly in turn.

“Stay here so she comes to you, maybe she’ll start walking.”

Any protest died on Varian’s lips as he looked over to his daughter taking a shaky step in the soft grass, the warm wind ruffling her fluffy black hair and her chubby face twisted in concentration.

Varian opened his arms out “come on Lizzie, come on you can do it!”

“Ngh!” She replied back in earnest.

Varian chuckled warmly. He looked over to Andrew, who was watching the child with nothing but pure adoration on his face.

Varian smiled at him, hoping deep down, Andrew hadn’t taken notice.

As Eliza clumsily staggered her way towards the two, almost making her way to her fathers. Before she could reach them, Varian stood to scoop the girl up and shower her in love and praise but Andrew pushed him back a bit.

“What are you doing?” He whispered in a panicked hiss.

Andrew grinned knowingly “just step back a little bit, so she keeps walking. It’ll encourage her.”

Varian pouted, but complied.

Eliza took a few more hesitant steps, and Varian and Andrew inched back a little more. It didn’t take her long to catch onto their scheme, and she pouted, frustrated tears in her eyes. Varian would have cried if the first thing out of her mouth weren’t-

“No!”

Varian squealed.

He couldn’t help himself, so he took a large step and picked the child up.

“Eliza! You’re walking! And you said your first word, oh I’m so so so proud of you!” Varian laughed in delight. Eliza smiled, just happy to be in her father’s arms again. Varian hugged her close and nuzzled their noses together. “I’m so proud of you!” He laughed.

Eliza began to gum on her fist, happy and content with the affection. Her blue-green eyes shone brightly, no indication of her previous frustration.

Varian felt Andrew come up beside him, chuckling.

“I told you,” he sing-songed. Before Varian could think better of it, he laughed in response.

Andrew ruffled Eliza’s fluffy black hair, wisps beginning to float around her face.

Varian kissed the chubby cheeks. He ignored how nice Andrew’s hand on his back, thumb rubbing soothing circles, felt.

~~

Varian hummed happily the second he woke up, a rare occurrence. Mornings did not usually consist of any sort of happy thoughts, any sense of excitement for the day ahead- but this morning did.

Because today was Eliza’s first birthday.

Varian turned over to the baby sleeping next to him, drool pooling on the large, shared pillow.

She was so small, so precious. Her cheek was squished against the pillow, and her fists closed up around her mouth. She snored, softly, like her grandfather. She had two little front teeth that Varian silently hoped wouldn’t look like his. Her thick black hair was wild and would definitely take a moment to brush through and tame.

Varian cooed at her sleeping form, and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

It was so hard to imagine life without her now. He had never expected to become a father so early, but he cherished every moment he had with her. And he was so lucky to have had such a fun and sweet little girl for a whole year. He was so lucky to be her daddy.

She may have been what tethered him to the Separatists Of Saporia, which wasn’t her fault at all. But ultimately, she had become the reason he got out of bed anymore.

His little Eliza was his entire life. He loved his baby girl so much.

He liked to imagine, in some world, in some life, maybe even in the future, he would get to raise her at home. Where she would be surrounded by people who would adore her.

He couldn’t help but think about Rapunzel teaching her to walk, Eugene reading to her, Lance playing silly games with her, the girls still struggling learning to hold a newborn…

His father, holding his granddaughter, reverently, cherishing her the way he cherished his son.

Varian swallowed back tears at the thought. Now wasn’t the time, today wasn’t the day. Today was about celebrating a whole year with the love of his life.

Varian kissed the baby’s cheeks and nose until she awoke

Eliza awoke with a slight whine, but otherwise fluttered her big eyes open soundlessly.

“Happy birthday to you~” Varian sang in a whisper.

“Happy birthday my dearest Eliza, happy birthday to you~” He ended the song with a kiss to her nose. Eliza had no understanding, she was simply happy to be the center of her daddy’s attention.

Varian picked the girl up and rolled over, placing her on his chest. With her limbs sprawled out, she rested her chin against his breastbone. Varian ran his thumb over her cheek and stared into her eyes, picking out flecks of green in the ocean of blue. Occasionally, he pressed a little kiss to her face, enjoying the little squeal he would get in return.

It was early, and the sun was still rising in the sky. Varian was happy to spend these early hours with his favorite person in the world.

She was his sun, moon, and stars. He adored and treasured her more than he knew a human could.

As much as Varian wished it could, the moment couldn’t last forever. Eventually, he had to get up. The most exciting part being dressing his daughter up in a dress he made for this specific occasion. A little blue gown, simple and column-esque, but filled with imperfect embroidered animals on the skirt. He wasn’t good at dressmaking by any means, but he was still proud of the project, even if the animals looked a little…off.

He did his best.

Eliza’s new, and possibly first obsession (besides hair pulling) had been animals. She loved when Varian read her books with animals in them, and adored any and all stuffed animals she had been gifted with. Even if they were shoddy handmade ones that fell apart immediately.

Sewing was not Varian’s strong suit. But with no money, and confined to whatever camp had been set up, gifts had to be homemade.

Varian winced at the bright sunlight as he wandered his way out of his tent. It was active, with people milling about. Familiar faces from his time in Corona, and unfamiliar, filled with people who had either not been part of the coup he had been, or people who joined after he left. Either way, they usually weren’t the friendliest of faces.

Thank the sun the tension had died down, and he wasn’t actively fearing for his life at every moment.

Likely because no one had the heart to orphan his daughter.

Thankfully no one spared him a glance today, people having moved on from the usual frightened gawk at his collar, or sneer of disdain. Or the look of pity.

Varian adjusted Eliza in his hold, who brightened if someone sent her a smile or patted her head. Varian always had to resist the urge to throttle the people who acknowledged his daughter.

He was so used to being left alone, to intentionally trying to stay off to the side in either his lab or tent, that even positive attention from people who had done nothing to wrong him, made Varian uncomfortable.

An older lady cooed at Eliza and pinched her cheek, Varian could have killed her. A teenage boy smiled widely and bid the girl good morning, Varian could have thrown up.

Varian plucked a piece of bread from a loaf that had been set out. Everyone was putting together their breakfasts from whatever had been set out and made for the day. Oatmeals, fruits, cheeses, and all Varian felt he could comfortably stomach was bread.

He had made him and Eliza a small cake yesterday, he could eat on that later.

“Is that all you’re eating?” A familiar, feminine voice sounded behind him.

Varian turned to see Juniper giving him an inquisitive look.

Varian bit his lip and regarded her warily.

They hadn’t interacted since the incident, and Varian was fine with that.

Everyone else was milling about a few feet away, it was just the two of them. Well, three of them. But Eliza was preoccupied staring at buzzards picking apart a carcass farther away in the woods.

“Because I can get you some fruit or some shit, I know you don’t like crowds.”

Varian sized her up, reading her. He had learned since his time with the Separatists on how to read people, to tell if they were genuine. He liked to think he had become rather good at judging someone’s character.
But Juniper wasn’t like that. She wasn’t a liar, no more than she had to be. She wasn’t the most open with her emotions, but she was honest.

Varian could begrudgingly respect that. Even if he was still instinctively both afraid and mad at her.

“I’m okay, I’m not very hungry anyway.” He smiled nervously. Juniper seemed nervous at the response.

The two stood in an awkward silence, Eliza turned over, studying the face she had long since forgotten.

“Well then-“ Juniper nervously avoided Varian’s eyes and kicked the dirt beneath her “-just, if you need anything let me know. The Seperatists have to stick together and all that. And I’m sorry I haven’t been all that good at it.”

Varian felt his muscles relax. He smiled softly at the woman in front of him. He wasn’t sure he fully forgave her just yet, but he could accept the apology.

Juniper didn’t smile back, simply shrugging and walking away uncomfortably, before Varian stopped her with a quick “wait! I think I know something you can do for me, if you don’t mind.”

Juniper looked at him expectantly.

“Could you, maybe go into town and buy something for me? I’ll try to pay you back eventually.”

The older woman stared him down, studying his sheepish face for a brief second. Varian could feel his previous fear build back up, before she shrugged.

“What do you need?”

~~

Varian scanned the dispersing crowd, everyone off to their own duties. Varian, mercifully, had nothing to do today.

And he couldn’t tell you exactly why he did this, all he knew is that he felt his heart skip a beat when he spotted Andrew, and his legs moved of their own accord to the man.

Varian adjusted Eliza in his hold, who was getting antsy and ready to wander around.

“Hey, uh, hey Andrew!” Varian nervously called out. He had a sheepish smile on his face, which grew more nervous the second Andrew turned and smiled at him.

“Hello my loves” Andrew cooed.

Varian ignored the fluttering in his chest. Andrew was just being sweet, that was all.

The second Varian stopped, Eliza reached out, babbling to be picked up by her father. He immediately obliged and plucked the baby girl out of Varian’s arms, who smiled warmly at the father and daughter. Eliza settled contently in Andrew’s hold while he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“This dress looks new, did your daddy make it? Huh? He’s very talented isn’t he? What uh, what are these?” Andrew bit back a chuckle as he examined the embroidery. Varian scoffed indignantly.

“They’re deer! That’s her favorite animal.”

Andrew snorted, but sent Varian a sheepish look when the smaller man glowered.

“V, they look like, I don’t even know what they look like, but those aren’t deer.”

Varian’s face scrunched into an angry pout. Andrew sighed fondly, and ran a hand through the raven locks. Varian leaned into the touch subconsciously.

“But you made them, and I think that makes them even more beautiful. There’s a certain beauty in all kinds of art, even the inexperienced art.”

Varian snorted “yeah okay, just say it sucks.”

“I never said that, all art intended to tell a story is beautiful, no matter the skill.”

Varian chuckled and leaned closer to the man “there was no story, I was just trying to embroider cute little animals.”

“I see a story.” Andrew hummed.

Varian chuckled silently “oh yeah, what’s that?”

“It’s a story about a father who loves his daughter.”

Varian flushed so fast and hard he burned. Despite himself, he buried his face into Andrew’s shoulder, inhaling the musky, woodsy scent, and finding a familiar solace in the comfort.

He knew he shouldn’t, he knew he should fight back against to urge to give in. He knew it wasn’t real, Andrew had done this before, he had tricked Varian into letting his guard down around him. He had endeared himself to Varian, making the boy fall in love with him so he could further twist and bend him into a weapon of his will. Varian knew he should pull away before it was too late…

But he couldn’t help but feel like this time was different.

He had become so good at reading people, at reading Andrew, and Andrew just felt so genuine. Like he truly did love Varian.

Like maybe, he liked the idea of having a happy little family, just the three of them.

Varian felt Andrew press a kiss to the crown of his head, and his breath caught so fast and hard he suffocated for a second.

He had to switch topics, now.

“You know what today is?” He smiled innocently, moving his head so it was resting on Andrew’s shoulder.

“Thursday?” He innocently asked.

“Come onnnn, you know what day it is.”

“Thursday.” Andrew smiled.

“Andrew…”

“You’re going to have to give me a hint.”

“You’re holding her.”

“Hmmm” he playfully studied the baby “I’m at a loss.”

Varian chuckled “it’s her first birthday.”

Andrew simply hummed in acknowledgment “that’s nice, I can’t believe she’s a whole year old now. Seems like just yesterday she was just a little newborn.”

“Yeah” Varian sighed wistfully “now she’s walking and she’s starting to talk, I can’t believe it.”

Eliza garbled in agreement.

“And I was thinking” Varian sheepishly began “that because it’s her first birthday, we could maybe do something, together?”

Varian felt dread at the sigh he got in response. He almost apologized, had Andrew not sent him a look of kind pity.

“I know in Corona birthdays are a big deal, but to Saporia they’re a sign of conceit. And I don’t want Eliza growing up like the people who hurt us.”

Varian sighed dejectedly “I know.”

Andrew gave him a sad smile “I’m sorry, I know this probably meant a lot to you. But I’m sure she will know she’s loved just as much.”

Varian couldn’t muster up a fake smile, only shrugging in response, and feeling relief when Andrew passed the baby girl back to him. Varian held her close, tucking her head under his chin and nuzzling his cheek into her hair.

Andrew ruffled the man’s hair, and began to make his way elsewhere, off to who knows where.

Varian felt a tinge of bitterness in his gut.

Whatever, they didn’t need Andrew anyway. Varian could still celebrate Eliza’s birthday just the two of them, like he had already planned. Just a little more low-key.

What Andrew didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

Varian absentmindedly ghosted his fingers over the collar he had briefly forgotten about, having grown used to it’s presence and weight.

Before the man could leave, Varian had another request. One he hoped dearly wouldn’t be shot down as well. He didn’t know what he would do if this, too, were denied.

“Wait Andrew!”

The aforementioned man turned inquisitively.

Varian flushed, suddenly deeply unsure and vulnerable. Like his next words would wipe away the hesitantly good atmosphere he found himself in today. But he had to ask-

“You said uhm, you said awhile ago, that I could write to Rapunzel? You know, so she knows I’m okay and doesn’t look for me. Do you think that maybe I could send her a letter today? Please. I won’t put anything incriminating in it, I just want- I just want her to know I’m alright.”

Varian’s gaze stayed fixed on the baby who was gazing at him lovingly, he ran a thumb over her cheek. He tried not to dwell on the awkward silence, tried not to focus on Andrew at all. Be desperately hoped he would just say-

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just have Clementine read over it when you’re done.“

Varian sighed in relief, choking back a sob.

~~

“Happy birthday to you~ Varian sang quietly. Eliza giggled and happily smashed her fist into the tiny cake. Varian laughed softly at the sight of his daughter shoving a fistful of the dessert into her mouth.

Solids were still a little unfamiliar to her, but no one could resist the power of baked goods. Especially Varian’s baked goods, if he said so himself.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, before pressing a kiss to the ravenette’s head.

The two sat like that for a moment, Eliza enjoying the exciting new dessert, and Varian reveling in the moment. He knew he had a goofy grin on his face, but he didn’t care. He loved his daughter so much, and seeing her little face smeared in chocolate cake was so precious, he never wanted to forget it. He ran a thumb over her cheek and licked off the excess, but that was all he wanted.

Eventually though, he had to wipe her face clean. He had a present to give her, after all.

Varian pulled out a box Juniper had handed him only an hour prior.

“Okay so I don’t know if I’ll be able to do a gift every year, but since it’s your first birthday, I had to do something.”

Varian laid on his stomach as he handed Eliza, who too was laying down for tummy time, a small stuffed deer. It was beautifully made, with elegant plush antlers even sewn on.

“Happy birthday Lizzie!”

The only light in the tent was the small candle situated on a desk next to the cot Varian and Eliza slept on. But the way the small girl lit up made the whole world feel bright.

“Dee!” She exclaimed. “Dee!” She squealed, grabbing the toy and immediately putting the antler in her mouth.

Varian chuckled fondly, and ran a hand through her hair as she happily chewed the toy.

“Happy birthday, I love you.”

They sat like that, too, for a moment. Varian soaked it in. His daughter happily playing with her gift, feeling nothing but joy and love. Knowing nothing other than that her daddy loved her.

Varian swore, if it was the last thing he ever did, he would keep her safe and make her proud.

He could feel himself get sleepy, and he knew by the Eliza was curling up and settling down, stuffed deer clutched close to her chest, she wasn’t too far away either.

“How about a bedtime story huh? It’s a story I’ve been wanting to tell you for awhile, but I thought I’d save it until your birthday.”

Eliza yawned in response. Varian pulled her close, curling up on the floor. The two nestled close together, sleep pulling at both of them. He was sure he had never felt so cozy in his life.

“Now this is a top secret bedtime story alright? You can’t tell anyone else about it, it’s just for you and me okay?”

Eliza didn’t respond, merely blinking up at him sleepily.

“This is the story about a princess, and it starts with the sun.”

~~

Hot, it was unbearably hot. The hot air, the hot body above him pinning him down, the hot shame in his gut. He was burning, he was suffocating, choking on his own shame.

It hurt so badly, it tore his insides. He was going to ache forever. He had never wanted this, but he had allowed it for so long, until finally he escaped. But now it was back, and taking him again, and he couldn’t escape. He would never escape. He was trapped and it hurt and he just wanted his daddy.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t speak, all that came out were sobs and grunts, breathless pleas to please stop please stop it I don’t want this stop it please get off of me-

Varian awoke with a gasp. Nausea gripped him so tightly he gagged and choked. He scrambled away from the pile of blankets and heaved into the tent floor.

Tears clawed out of his throat and he sobbed pathetically. He didn’t even try to hide them like normal, he was too tired. He just let himself cry as he spilled what was mostly bile and water. Varian clawed at the collar, wincing at the small shocks it sent up his neck.

He struggled to hold himself up, and was relieved when all he could do was dry heave so he could collapse onto the ground.

He let himself lay there and cry. He was too tired to fight back the nightmare, the ward off the horrific memory. He had forgotten, he had blissfully tucked away that particularly awful experience. He had forgotten the feeling of once-kind hands gripping his waist so hard it hurt, clawing down his thighs and drawing blood, the feeling of his body being ground into the grass whilst he writhed. The awful taste of their breaths mingling when his face had been held in place. The stomach-churning sound of skin forcibly slapping against his skin, the pathetic sound of his whimpering and begging.

The sight of Andrew above him, and his malicious smile as he took what he believed was his. As he punished Varian the best way he knew how.

As he reminded Varian of his place.

The small boy whined and curled in on himself, tears choking him, humiliatingly mixing with snot as they pooled on the ground. He was sure he would have awoken Eliza by now, if she hadn’t slept like the dead.

Her being asleep, completely unaware of what was going on, simultaneously put Varian at ease, and made him feel more alone.

Through the chaotic, painful thoughts, Varian felt one rise to the surface with a vengeance. All consuming and painful.

He wanted his big brother. He wanted his dad.

He wanted his Rapunzel.

Varian cried himself to sleep that night.

~~

“My dearest, Rapunzel,

It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen you. Two years of missing you so much it hurts. I miss you, I miss Eugene, I miss the girls, I don’t miss Lance at all though and you can tell him that (please do in fact.)

Please tell my dad I miss him. I hope he’s doing alright, and that he’s taking a step back from all the farm work. I don’t want him to overdo himself like he always does and get hurt. Which might make me a hypocrite. But when done right, alchemy is a lot less physically taxing than back breaking manual labor. Make sure he’s resting, and remember what I told you guys about electrolytes? I should still have the ones I manufactured left over, they’re labeled in the lab. (At least I think they’re labeled.)

I hope Eugene is doing well. I know he was talking about stepping down as captain of the guard. Which makes sense, he’s about retirement age anyway. Whatever he decides to do, I hope it works out. Might I suggest Ruddiger as the new captain? He’s fast, smart, and resourceful. I think he would be a good candidate.
Tell him I miss him too, I miss him a lot. And that he’s not allowed to replace me with Lance in Team Awesome or I’m going to put curdled milk in his shampoo.

I’m just joking, relax.

Mostly.

I miss you, Eugene.

I hope Lance enjoys being the new manager of the Snuggly Duckling. It’s a lot of responsibility, but I’m sure he can handle it. Especially with his plan to hire those in your criminal reform program. I really hope this is going well. He’s the best guy for the job, so I’m sure it’s flourishing. I recently discovered something I’m calling “dry ice.” It burns the skin, but is harmless to drink (yeah yeah I need to stop drinking my own experiments I know. Please don’t tell dad or Eugene.) and when added to a liquid, it lets off a beautiful steam. I’ll include instructions on how to make it if he really wants to add some extra flair to his drinks.

Tell the girls I miss them too and to keep doing their homework. Or don’t, I don’t really care. School is a scam. I’m including some ointment I’ve been working on that should help Cat with her stretch marks after shifting, and a cool knife I found in the woods for Kiera. I left the dried blood on it just for her (don’t worry it’s strawberry jam, I was struggling to open a jar of it.)

Please give Ruddiger my love. Scratch his ears and give him many apples and tell him I love him. I hate being away from him, but it’s for the best. I’m sure he’s better off helping my dad in the orchards. Someone needs to eat the bad apples. Give Pascal and Max a head pat for me, and tell the twins their Uncle Varian loves them. Enclosed is a mobile I made for each of them. I came across a cave with lots of sunstone and moonstone. I thought it was fitting for the Prince and Princess of Corona and The Dark Kingdom.

I miss you so much it hurts, Rapunzel. You’re the most amazing and wonderful person I have ever met and I hate being away from you every second. In a way, you’re the only reason I’m even alive right now.

I hope you’re doing alright, you deserve a happily ever after. I hope politics aren’t being too hard on you. I don’t know what’s going on in Corona right now, but under your leadership I’m sure it’s prospering (but with it still being under Freddy’s leadership it might be a burning ditch right now, so who’s to say?)

I love you Raps. I really do. I’m sure I’ve hurt you and I’m so, so sorry. You don’t deserve this. But it has to be this way. I need to be on my own for awhile, to find myself. I already said this before, but I’ll say it again. Please don’t look for me. You won’t find me. And if you do, I won’t come back. So just don’t waste your time and energy.

There’s nothing you can say to convince me to come home right now. I’ve made up my mind, and I want to be by myself. I’m on my own journey, like the one you went on. I want to travel the seven kingdoms on my own. Please respect this, that’s all I ask.

I promise that I’m okay. I’m safe, I have food, water, and shelter. I’m not completely on my own, I’ve found company. I’ve made a very dear friend.
She’s amazing, I hope you can meet her someday.

I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. Maybe I will, I hope I do. But even if I don’t, I want you to know I love you guys so much, and I’m so lucky to have you as my family.

Yours,

Varian.

(PS tell Nigel I know he cheated when we played chess that one time.)“

The group was seated around Quirin’s antique dinner table. The atmosphere painful as the letter was read aloud.

Eugene had his head propped on his hands, covering his mouth. He was trying, and failing, to stifle his sobs. His shoulders were shaking uncontrollably. His gaze was hard and fixed to the wood.

Lance wasn’t much better. He tried not to be loud, but wet sniffles cut through the air and tears spilled down his cheeks without abandon. He shuddered with the occasional sob.

Quirin was stoic and silent, but his eyes were closed in grief. He ran a hand haggardly down his face, covering his mouth and turning away to let silent tears fall.

Catalina was silent, downcast, her eyes glazed over. Kiera’s own position was similar, but anyone could feel the rage exuding off of her, anyone would wince at the sharp and angry look in her eyes. Anyone except those around the table, who could sympathize with those feelings.

Rapunzel was at the head of the table. Her tears fell onto the paper, smudging the ink. She took a few deep breaths so as to recover from the letter she had just read. But nothing could stop the onslaught of tears from clawing their way out of her chest.

She let out a loud, heart shattering sob, practically a scream.

“Why won’t he just come home?”

Notes:

The first quarter of this chapter was worked on in small bits for maybe two months? And then I wrote the rest of it in a day lol. There’s definitely a lot going on in this one that’s for sure. But I had so much fun writing it! Baby Eliza is so squishy and Varian is so easy to punt and Andrew is delightfully the worst.

One of these days I’ll have consistent scene breakers…

Thank you all for reading! This has been one of my favorite fics to work on, and y’alls response makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and motivates me to kick Varian even more.

One kudos = one cupcake for Eliza