One would think that being a prince would be fun. Always being taken care of, his every desire handed to him on a silver platter. He had the best tutors and teachers who would gladly answer any question he might have. From an early age he was taught survival skills and had been told every secret their kingdom hid, and there were a lot of them. He had been given everything he needed to protect himself and his kingdom.
He had everything he should ever want, and yet fifteen year old Prince Horace was living in his own personal hell.
"You really should stop dragging your feet, your highness." Adira said far too cheerfully, considering the circumstances. She and the other Brotherhood members were escorting him to the throne room where he would surely be lectured by his dad.
Horace had run away, again. He'd gotten farther than ever this time. He'd been gone for several days, using all of the skills he'd been taught to hide from the Brotherhood. He'd been hopeful, and that hope had made him cocky.
Horace had thought it would be a good idea to take the fastest route away from the Dark Kingdom as possible, which was through the caves of the Great Tree. In his rush Horace had completely forgotten just who was patrolling the Great Tree that month.
All of the Brotherhood members were impossibly good trackers, but Hector knew the Great Tree like the back of his hand. As soon as Hamuel had dropped by with the message that Horace had run away again, Hector was on his guard. He'd been able to find him in a matter of minutes.
Horace was mentally kicking himself. He should have waited an extra two weeks to make his escape. At that point Quirin would be in charge of the tree, and he would be far too busy keeping an eye on his young son to properly look for Horace in the massive tree.
"Perk up, little princeling." Hector smirked at him. "You're getting better. One of these days you'll be able to actually reach the borders of another kingdom."
"Don't encourage him." Quirin scowled. He looked even more concerned than usual, which Horace hadn't even thought possible. Something must really be freaking him out. This couldn't be lingering concern from Horace running away, because this was a frequent enough occurrence that he shouldn't even be phased by it anymore, even if Horace had gone missing several days ago.
Horace realized with a jolt that something must be wrong with Quirin's boy, Varian. These past five years nothing else caused Quirin nearly as much anxiety as his son did. He was almost more protective of Varian than Horace's father was of him, which was saying something, since Horace was still not allowed to even leave the castle without a Brotherhood escort, and leaving the kingdom was definitely off the table.
Horace felt a twinge of guilt at the thought that something might have happened to Varian. He didn't know the kid very well. He had barely even seen him, because they were both far too busy for their paths to cross very frequently. Horace had his princely duties, and Varian, despite just being a little kid, was being trained to join the Brotherhood.
Horace knew that if anything had happened to Varian very few things could drag Quirin away from him. Horace, as crown prince, was one of those few things. If Varian was sick or something and the only reason why Quirin wasn't at his side was because he had to escort Horace to the throne room so he could be scolded by his father for the dozenth time, he would feel absolutely horrible.
Horace didn't regret running away or giving the Brotherhood extra work these past few days, but he felt bad for dragging the kid into it. Even if Varian was perfectly alright and something else was bothering Quirin, the kid still would have been without his father and other guardians for several days, as the Brotherhood would have been looking for Horace
It wasn't fair to the kid, and Horace swore to himself that as soon as his dad stopped talking his ear off he would find his old book The Tales of Flynnigan Rider and read it to the kid. Varian wasn't given the chance to be a normal kid any more than Horace was. He deserved an escape and a glimpse into the world outside of the cold walls of their castle.
"Look, don't you think we can skip the lecture this time?" Horace asked. "I'm home, I know it was very irresponsible for me to leave, and I swear I won't do it again."
Quirin rolled his eyes, Adira shot him a look over her shoulder, and Hector snorted. None of them believed him. They had heard these words just as much as Horace had heard the 'you're a prince, you need to start acting like it' lecture from his dad. They were just as tired of this old song and dance as Horace was.
"Your father's not very happy with you, your highness." Adira said.
"What is he going to do? Ground me?" Horace scoffed and crossed his arms. He already wasn't allowed to leave the castle. His dad had only tried to confine him to his room once before realizing how much of a mistake that was. If Horace couldn't leave his room, he couldn't fulfill his princely duties, and he just got more restless than usual, which meant he tried to run away again after just a few days. His dad hadn't tried disciplining him like that since.
Hector cackled and even Adira looked amused. They seemed to know what his dad was planning to do to discipline him this time, and for the first time since he was a little kid Horace was nervous about what his dad would do to him. If Hector and Adira thought it was funny, he knew that he was going to be absolutely miserable.
Somehow even worse than their amusement was Quirin's increased concern. This must be what Quirin was worried about. Just how bad could a punishment be if the stoic Quirin was worried about it?
All too soon Horace was escorted into the throne room. His dad was already sitting there, glaring coldly down at him like he was a common thief instead of his son. Horace swallowed thickly. It was never a good sign when his dad looked at him as his king instead of as his father. Horace bit down the sarcastic quip at the tip of his tongue. His dad was already mad at him, no reason to make it worse.
Horace allowed the brotherhood to lead him in front of the throne. He followed their example and lowered himself to his knees to bow to his father. Horace wasn't normally in the habit of bowing to his father, but right now it was better to be safe than sorry. There was no harm in treating his dad with the respect that the king deserved.
"Horace," King Edmund looked down at him. His eyes were tired and disappointed, but Horace had seen worse from him. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad.
"Father." Horace said. When his dad nodded at him he got to his feet. He expected his dad to dismiss the Brotherhood, but they didn't go anywhere. Was his punishment going to involve them?"
"Do you know why the Brotherhood was formed?" King Edmund asked. Horace flinched slightly. He knew where this was going. He hadn't received this particular lecture since he was seven years old and looking for attention by being a little brat.
"To protect the moonstone." Horace said quietly.
"Can they do that if they have to spend all their time and energy to reign you in when you get restless?" King Edmund asked.
Horace's shoulders tensed and his face heated up. This was humiliating. His dad was talking to him like he was a little kid, and he wasn't taking his feelings seriously. Horace loved the Dark Kingdom, but he hated being stuck here. The land was desolate, nearly all the citizens had long since evacuated. The closest thing he had to a friend was a kid who was a third his age. Horace had been incredibly sheltered his whole life, and he hated it. He wanted to see the world beyond this castle, even just once.
And yet his dad was acting like he was a little kid throwing a tantrum.
Edmund was waiting for an answer, so Horace swallowed his pride and frustrations and just shook his head. "No, sir."
Edmund's expression softened slightly. He stood up from his throne and approached him. He put a firm hand on Horace's shoulder, and the teenager couldn't help but find himself relaxing. No matter how horrible and trapped he felt, he always felt at least a little better with his dad's support.
"I know it's difficult for you to be here." Edmund said quietly. "This kingdom is no longer fit for anybody, let alone children," Edmund looked over Horace's shoulder at Quirin. The king nodded. The knight returned the gesture and left the room. Edmund turned his attention back to Horace. "However, the moonstone is too powerful to be left unprotected. It is our family's duty to stay here and defend it. We make the sacrifice so that the rest of the world won't have to."
Horace sighed and glanced to the side. He knew that he was being selfish for wanting to leave. He just didn't want to be stuck here for the rest of his life. He wanted to have adventures, see the world, actually meet people . Horace knew that his destiny was to protect the moonstone, but did that destiny really have to start now? Couldn't it wait for a few decades, after he'd satisfied his need to see the world?
He'd tried to bring it up with his dad, but it never worked. As far as his dad was concerned, nothing was more important than their duty to the kingdom. Edmund had said that he would like nothing more than to let Horace live out his dream, but they couldn't risk it. The moonstone was fragile and easily disturbed. Fifteen years ago there had been a disaster with the moonstone.
Horace's father and the Brotherhood could have died. Many citizens had died, including his mother. If the worst had happened, there would be nobody left to protect the moonstone. If another disaster happened and, moon forbid, something happened to Horace's father, he would have to take up the duty to protect the moonstone. He couldn't do that if he was running around having the time of his life.
Horace understood this, but that didn't mean that he had to like it.
"One day you'll understand," Edmund said. He gave Horace's shoulder a squeeze before he let go. "Until that day comes precautions must be made. I didn't want it to come to this, but you've forced my hand." Edmund turned and walked back towards the throne.
Horace stiffened. This was it, the punishment, and he knew he wouldn't be able to talk his way out of this one.
"If you cannot responsibly handle the freedoms that you have been given, perhaps we need to limit those freedoms until you can." Edmund said. Horace grimaced. Were they really going to try grounding again?
King Edmund sat on the throne, his eyes cold and distant again. He was back to speaking as a king. "As long as you insist on behaving like a child, I have no choice but to treat you as such." Hector snorted and Horace had a terrible idea he knew where this was going. He vaguely remembered when he was a small child, about Varian's age, not yet old enough to learn how to run a kingdom or properly defend himself, he'd had a babysitter.
Every day he'd constantly had a member of the Brotherhood at his side, watching his every move. It hadn't been too bad back then, but that was when Horace was just a child. He was ten years older now, closer to being an adult than a little kid. Just the thought of having a babysitter was humiliating. This couldn't be what his dad meant. He-he wouldn't…
"Dad, you can't mean-" Horace started. Edmund raised his hand and Horace cut himself off. The king's decision had been made.
Edmund sighed, and he almost looked regretful, though there was an odd, rare twinkle in his eyes. He was just as amused by this as Hector and Adira were, he was just doing better at hiding it. Only Quirin seemed upset about this plan. Was Quirin going to end up being Horace's new babysitter?
Well, there were worse Brotherhood members to be stuck with.
"Everywhere you go a member of the Brotherhood will accompany you." Edmund said. "It will be his job to keep you in line until such a time when you have proven you can do it yourself."
Horace's shoulders slumped. He was too tired, frustrated, and humiliated to have proper posture and carry himself like a prince should. He hated this, but he knew that complaining was just going to prove his dad right. If Horace wanted to be treated with dignity, he needed to earn it.
"Yes, sir." Horace said reluctantly. Edmund nodded and looked towards the door. "Quirin, bring him in."
The doors opened and Horace turned, only to freeze in horror at what he saw. Quirin was there, yes, but he wasn't the person that Horace was looking at. His eyes were glued to the small, determined, terrified five year old walking right next to Quirin, holding his hand. Varian's free hand was bandaged and curled to his chest.
Horace knew that Varian was an incredibly clumsy child. His favorite hobby seemed to be to make things blow up. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that he had just burned or cut his hand, but Horace had the horrible feeling that wasn't the case. Edmund's decision, Quirin's concern, Varian's terrified determination and hurt hand, it all painted a horrifying picture.
"No," Horace said breathlessly. He ran to meet Quirin and Varian, ignoring the way that his legs were shaking. "You wouldn't. You...you couldn't have." Horace muttered to himself. He knelt in front of Varian and put his hands on his shoulders. Horace actually pulled Varian away from his dad's grip so he could get a better look at him.
"Varian, kiddo, can I see your hand?" Horace asked. He did his best to keep his voice from shaking. Varian was probably incredibly overwhelmed and barely keeping it together. Horace didn't want to scare him even more through his freaking out.
Varian looked up at his dad, who nodded at him. The boy turned back to Horace and slowly offered him his bandaged hand. Horace reached out and slowly began to unbind it. He felt a twist in his gut with every grimace the boy gave. He couldn't stop though, not until he knew for sure.
When Horace unraveled the last layer of bandage he saw the very thing he had been afraid of. The sign of the Brotherhood branded into the back of his hand. It still looked raw and red.
Horace knew that it looked worse than it really was. The wound would heal just fine, leaving very little pain. Horace knew that in a few days it would be a lot better, and in a few short weeks the brand would barely even itch. He knew this from experience, as Horace had the mark branded on the back of his own hand a few years ago.
Horace had been thirteen years old though, not five. Horace had known what he'd been getting into, and there was no way that Varian could. The kid had been sworn into something that he certainly didn't understand, and Horace knew that it was all his fault.
This was supposed to be Horace's punishment, and yet Varian was the one who had gotten hurt because of it. It wasn't fair, and Horace wouldn't stand for it. What kind of a prince was he if he just let one of his people take the hit that was meant for him.
"Oh, kid," Horace gently covered the kid's hand with his own, being careful to not irritate the injury. He lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't going to start crying. Not in front of his father. Not in front of the Brotherhood. Definitely not in front of the kid. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"...It's okay." Varian said. He sounded like he meant it, but that just made Horace feel worse. The kid had no idea what Horace had dragged him into.
"No, it's not." Horace let go of Varian's hand and stood up. The boy leaned close to his father, and Horace turned to face his. "Can I have a word with you? Alone?" Horace glared at Adira and Hector. How could they possibly find anything about this funny? A small child had been branded, but the only thing they were thinking about was Horace's potential humiliation.
He no longer felt the smallest hint of embarrassment. He was far too horrified and furious for that.
Edmund sighed and nodded. He walked towards the side doors that led to the rarely used counsel rooms. Horace gave one last look at Varian, who was watching him anxiously, before following his father. Once they were alone Horace dropped any decorum that was expected of a prince.
"What were you thinking?!" Horace shouted. "He's just a kid!"
"Horace, try to underst-" Edmund began, but Horace didn't let him get anywhere.
"No, I don't want to understand." Horace said. He knew he sounded like a child, but he had no interest in understanding how somebody could rationalize hurting a little kid. There were some things that just weren't okay, no matter what, and branding a child was one of them.
"Varian was born to be a member of the Brotherhood just as much as you were born to be a prince." Edmund said.
"I know." Horace said. "But he's so young. I thought that people didn't join the Brotherhood until they're teenagers." It was how it had gone for Horace.
"That is a fairly recent tradition." Edmund said. "Just a few short generations ago people became true members of the Brotherhood as soon as they started their training."
Horace remembered reading about that when he'd been studying history. "Yeah, but there's a reason we stopped doing things that way. It's cruel."
"I agree." Edmund said. "But sometimes we must do things that we don't want to do for the good of the kingdom."
"How is this supposed to help anybody?" Horace asked. "He's just a kid. What is he supposed to do?"
"Ah, see, him being a child is precisely why we did this." Edmund said, and he actually sounded proud. "Not only will you have a member of the Brotherhood around at all times, just to make sure you're safe and present, but you can protect the boy as well and keep him out of trouble."
Horace raised an eyebrow. "So, what, we're each other's bodyguard and babysitter?"
"Yes, exactly." Edmund looked pleased with himself. Horace just felt sick. This was such a horrible plan, and Horace was sure that it was just going to end in flames. Somebody was going to get hurt, and Horace was sure that somebody was going to be Varian.
Well, that was one good thing about this plan. Horace would have the chance to protect Varian, because somebody had to.
Horace sighed and lowered his head. He reluctantly nodded, because he knew that he couldn't talk his way out of this. At least for now, he had to do what his dad wanted. Edmund put a hand on Horace's shoulder again.
"I know you don't like this, but you'll get used to it." Edmund said. He was trying to be comforting, but it just made Horace feel worse. What kind of a kingdom was this that it was seen as normal and even expected that a child be treated like this? Horace didn't want to get used to this kind of thing.
"Come," Edmund pulled Horace back towards the throne room. "Tomorrow you and Varian will begin to do your training together."
"Can't wait." Horace scowled. His sarcasm went right over his dad's head. Horace wondered if a lack of understanding and appreciation for sarcasm was a part of the culture of the Dark Kingdom. The Brotherhood also struggled with sarcasm, though not nearly as much as his dad did. Maybe Horace would be able to teach Varian how to be snarky, because he refused to be the only person in the kingdom who practiced the art of sarcasm.
When they opened the door to the throne room they found Varian standing right in front of it. He straightened and stood tall...well, as tall as a scared little kid could.
"Your highness." Varian nodded at Horace, who barely held back a groan. He knelt in front of the kid to be closer to his level.
"It sounds like we're stuck with each other from now on." Horace grinned. "So why don't we drop the formalities, okay? Just call me Horace."
Varian returned his smile with a shy one of his own. "Okay, Horace."
"It's been a long day." Horace stood up and lifted up the kid. "What do you say we read about Flynn Rider?"
Varian's smile broadened. "Yes!" He clung tightly to Horace. "I love Flynn Rider!"
"Every sane person does." Horace said. "You still got the book in your room?"
"It's there." Quirin said. "I'll escort you." The man began to walk out of the throne room. Horace adjusted his grip on Varian and moved to follow him.
"Uh, I know where the kid's room is." Horace said awkwardly. Varian's room was attached to Quirin's, and all members of the Brotherhood slept in the same hallway.
Quirin grimaced. "It's been moved." Instead of heading down the stairs, where the Brotherhood's quarters were, close to the chamber of the moonstone, Quirin led the way upstairs. After going down a few hallways Horace realized that he knew this path all too well. He made it every day.
"You've got to be kidding me." Horace grimaced as Quirin stopped in front of the doors of a room right next to Horace's. "Don't you guys think this is an overreaction?"
"The king wants you to be monitored at all times." Quirin said. "Which means that Varian must be nearby at all times."
"Dad says it's like a sleepover." Varian said cheerfully. Horace doubted the boy understood that this was a permanent change, not just a fun, one-time thing. Horace mentally prepared himself for many stressful nights spent comforting a lonely kid after a nightmare.
"Yeah, sure." Horace said. "Like a sleepover." He opened the door to Varian's bedroom. It was a lot more spacious than the kid's old room was. At least Varian would have a lot of room for those experiments that he was starting to get more and more interested in. It almost looked too roomy. Varian didn't have nearly enough belongings to fill out the space.
That was something that Horace would have to work on with him.
"Why don't you go find the book and make yourself comfortable?" Horace set Varian down. "I've got some things to talk to your dad about." Horace looked at Quirin, who nodded and left the room. Horace followed him. The moment the door was closed he gave Quirin a disappointed look.
"You can't seriously be okay with this." Horace said.
"I would prefer it if we waited a few more years, at the very least." Quirin admitted. "But I can't disobey a direct order from the king."
"Not even to protect your son?" Horace challenged.
Quirin took a deep, slow breath. "Varian will be just fine. He may have the mark of the Brotherhood, but that's just for formality. Believe it or not, your father recognizes that Varian is just a child. He's only a full member of the Brotherhood in name."
"I don't like this." Horace said.
"Neither do I." Quirin said. "But we have to trust that your father knows what he's doing."
Horace scowled. He'd always admired how loyal the Brotherhood was to his father and the Dark Kingdom, but now he thought that they were loyal to a fault. He hoped that he could work with Varian and prevent him from blindly following any orders that he was given.
"I'll think about it." Horace went into his bedroom to grab some of his softest pillows and blankets. Varian had had a rough day, and Horace was going to do whatever he could to make it better. Horace grabbed as much as he could before returning to Varian's bedroom. Quirin was sitting on the bed with Varian and speaking quietly to him.
When Quirin saw Horace he stood up and lowered his head in a small bow. Varian looked at his dad and followed his example, standing up.
"I'll leave you to it." Quirin said. He ruffled Varian's head and gave him a near-longing look. Horace wondered if Quirin would have just as difficult a time adjusting to the distance between him and Varian as the kid would. "Behave yourself for the prince."
"I will." Varian promised. He looked as stubborn as a little kid could manage. Quirin nodded and left the room. Once his dad was gone Varian's brave face fell. He moved his unhurt hand towards the injury. Horace grimaced and quickly dropped the blankets so he could take Varian's hand in his own. The kid's hand would be sensitive for a bit, and scratching the mark would do no good.
"Hey, let's see where Flynn Rider's adventures will take him." Horace said with forced cheer. He picked up Varian and tossed him onto the bed, making the kid giggle. Horace grabbed the blankets and threw them onto the boy, burying him. Before Varian could struggle his way out Horace grabbed onto him, pinning the blanket over him.
"S-stop!" Varian laughed. He squirmed around like a fish out of water. He tried to kick at Horace, but it wasn't very successful. After a long moment Horace released the kid and let him struggle out from the hold of the blanket.
"There we go." Horace said. He grabbed some of the pillows and leaned them against the headrest. He lounged against them. "Do you have the book?"
Varian nodded and pushed aside the pillows and blankets to find the book buried underneath them. He handed it to Horace. "I don't remember what happened last time." Varian said.
"I guess we'll have to start from the beginning." Horace said. He pulled the kid close to his side. Varian grinned and snuggled against him. Horace looked at Varian's hand and the brand that would be there for the rest of his life. It really wasn't fair for him.
Horace sighed and pushed his anger and fear down. He could deal with those things later. For right now his focus was to help the kid feel better. Horace took a deep breath and opened the book to the first page that he could probably say from memory by now.
"Flynnigan Rider had the best life he could imagine." Horace started reading. Varian stared at the pages of the book in awe, like he was hearing the story for the first time. "There was nothing he didn't have, and even if there was he would soon get it. But even with all of his riches and possessions, there was nothing that Flynnigan Rider liked more than adventure."
A/N: I'm planning on writing more stories in this au, so keep an eye out for those if you're interested in it.