So, yeah, apparently bearcats (binturongs) are an actual thing! They're a little small, but hey, we can take a bit of artistic license for the sake of a story.

I don't plan to spend every chapter dwelling on character mindsets. I'm setting the stage a bit for the action to come. Don't worry; there will be plenty of action!

Trigger warnings: characters being knocked unconscious, injuries, mentions of prison abuse

All Corona was in a buzz. Everywhere anyone turned, all they could see was the hastily-generated wanted posters for the escaped prisoner and his accomplice. All anyone could hear was the horrified whispers, whispers of vengeance and treachery. No one knew where the traitor was. No one knew what he would do, where he would go. Would he return to Corona for revenge? Would he try to attack the princess or the king and queen?

Arianna didn't think so. No, from what he had looked like the last time she saw him, he wouldn't be seeking revenge anytime soon. She shuddered to think of what that poor child had been through since his arrest! It had been about six months since the battle. Had he been suffering down there that whole time?

She had returned to her room around midnight, a few minutes after the stranger had spirited the boy away. It had only been about ten minutes after that when the captain had knocked on their door to inform them that there were three unconscious guards being taken to the infirmary and the boy prisoner was gone. The entire castle was up in arms over the situation. She and Frederic had been politely ordered to stay in their room until further notice. It had given her plenty of time to think.

And plenty of time to get angry.

Frederic, of course, was oblivious to her mood. She had long ago learned to control her emotions, as was necessary for a queen, and all he saw was the same calming façade she had been showing for years. He had assured her that his guards were more than capable of finding the boy and that they had no reason to worry.

No reason to worry! The thought was almost laughable. The child probably could not even stand on his own at the moment. He had been so fragile when she saw him. She could hardly believe he was the same hyper boy who used to run around at the science expos or tag along with his father to the palace every once in a while. It also seemed so implausible that he was the same bold child who had kidnapped her and threatened her family, though she could see the brokenness in his mind when he did.

Perhaps that was why she let him go. The mother's heart in her reached out for this kid. He had been alone and hurting when he did what he did. Though she was scared of him at one point, it seemed so long ago now as to belong to a distant dream. All she saw was a boy who wanted his father back.

And she could understand that.

She remembered well the days her calm mask had failed her and she had filled her husband's ears with rantings about what she would do to the witch who stole their daughter. She remembered the overwhelming drive to go out there and hunt her down herself. She remembered the despair that had crushed her spirit in the dark nights when she had dreams of holding her baby close to her and woke up to find her arms empty. She remembered the fleeting hope that would strike her anytime she saw a tiny head of blonde hair flitting through the crowds and the agony that replaced that hope every time she was wrong.

Yes, she understood Varian. Perhaps better than anyone. Fred, bless his heart, was not compassionate to criminals, especially those who came after his family. All he saw in Varian was a threat.

Was that why he had allowed Varian to be treated the way he had been? In a desperate attempt to eliminate a threat? Why had he not just had him executed, if that was the case? He had promised to help Varian. Why hadn't he?

Now it was the morning after, and Arianna and Frederic were in the throne room listening to the captain's report. One guard had been found outside Varian's cell, and the other two were in the courtyard. There was no evidence of tampering with the lock, and it appeared that either Varian or his accomplice had managed to get ahold of a key.

"We've got patrols already searching beyond the wall, Your Majesties. Wherever this boy is, I feel certain he won't make it far. And his accomplice won't be able to fight off an entire group of soldiers at once. We've already got wanted posters for both of them. The accomplice's are based off Stan and Pete's description. They both have concussions, however, so we can't testify to the posters' accuracy."

"Thank you, Captain," Frederic responded. "I trust you and your men to bring these criminals to justice."

The captain seemed to hesitate. "There's more, Your Majesty."

"Go on."

He glanced around nervously. "Stan and Pete also informed me that they saw Her Majesty outside last night talking to the accomplice right before they were attacked."

Oops.

She met her husband's inquiring gaze confidently. "I was out for a walk last night, and I did happen to see a man and speak to him." She kept her hands folded in her lap properly to hide the shaking.

"Was he carrying a child, Your Majesty?"

She nodded. "He was. He claimed that he was out for a walk with his nephew, and the child fell asleep."

"Did you happen to recognize this man?" Frederic asked.

"I did not. He was a stranger. I saw no reason to doubt him."

"Your Majesty," the captain asked, "Were you present when the man attacked Stan and Pete?"

"I was. It was my impression that he feared for his nephew's safety. I assumed that's why he ran. The gentleman was most polite to me, and we had a wonderful discussion before we were interrupted. I told the doctor that Stan and Pete were in need of assistance before I returned to my room. That's when you came and informed us that Varian had escaped. I confess I was rather shaken by the news and didn't think to discuss the stranger with you." She put a hand over her heart in a perfect display of "strong vulnerability," as her mother always called it.

That seemed to do the trick. Frederic took her other hand in his. "I do apologize for the distress this has caused you, my dear. Captain, do you have any more questions for her?"

"No, Your Majesties," he responded awkwardly. "I apologize, my queen."

"That's quite all right. I'm grateful we have such dedicated men taking care of the situation. Now, I'm rather exhausted from all this excitement. I believe I'll retire to the library for the time being."

"Of course!" Much to her dismay, Frederic then asked for two guards to accompany her. He was taking no chances as long as this "dangerous fiend" was on the loose.

Arianna mentally prepared herself to handle upgraded security measures forever. With any luck, the child would never be found.

She certainly hoped not.

O‴O‴O‴

He's not coming back.

He has to come back! He left his bearcat here.

And you think his bearcat can't leave you and go find him? That was probably the plan.

Left alone to his own devices, Varian's mind immediately sent him through a convoluted gymnastics routine that left him spinning. Why would Hector bother to come back? Varian had murdered Quirin. Hector was probably long gone. And if he did come back, it would probably be with the guards in tow. He had only rescued Varian because he didn't know what he did. And if he did come back, how would he react to learning Varian committed treason?

And that comment about Varian hating himself. Sure, it had been offhanded and unintentional, but it was the truth. Varian could remember a lesson his dad taught him years ago. Stand up straight. Look people in the eyes. Hold yourself with dignity. If you can't respect yourself, others won't respect you either. Well, Varian had absolutely no respect for himself.

Deciding that this thought process was getting him nowhere, he quickly started making plans. If Hector did not come back, Varian would be left alone. He at least needed to be able to stand. Walking would be nice, too. And if he did sell Varian out, perhaps he could run and hide. Having come to this conclusion, he pushed himself up into a seated position. The movement hurt, but pain was a sadly familiar friend. The one friend that never seemed to leave, at least not in the last few months.

Seeing him try to rise, Kiki strode over and offered his back as support. Varian waved him off. He wanted to do this himself. He was only able to stand for about a second and a half when he fell over. Kiki was immediately under him, keeping him from hitting the ground. His left arm smacked against Kiki's side when he fell, and bursts of pain shot through it. Gritting his teeth, Varian righted himself and took a few shaky steps. Keeping his right arm over the bearcat's back, he walked for about thirty seconds before a wave of exhaustion passed over him. Kiki nudged him back towards his pallet and helped him sit without falling. He smiled up at the bearcat. "Thanks, bud."

The familiar words, spoken so casually, stabbed like a dagger into that open void in his heart. He missed Ruddiger. He missed his friend. If Hector came through, if he found Ruddiger, Varian was giving the little raccoon an entire bushel of apples, along with an apology for using him in his plot. He deserved better than that.

Thinking of those he left behind brought his mind back around to the one point that threatened to break him every time it crossed his mind.

His dad.

With time to reflect, Varian though, not for the first time, that he knew very little about his dad. Quirin was always close-lipped by nature. He never talked about his life before his family. Never talked about where he came from. Never talked about the fact that he had siblings.

Apparently he had at least two adopted siblings. Hector and… what had he called their sister? Adira? And they came from a place called the Dark Kingdom. And if all that wasn't enough, his dad was a knight! His dad, with muscled arms that would put a wrestler's to shame but that gave the best hugs, with work-hardened hands that were somehow so gentle when bandaging Varian's injuries, with reflexes quick enough to catch him every time he fell, was a knight!

His dad, who was now currently trapped in an amber prison of Varian's making. Possibly dead.

He may have still been alive, of course. There were nights when Varian curled up with his head resting on the amber, trying desperately to feel close to his dad once more, when he could have sworn he heard a heart beating behind the wall that separated them. But it may have only been his desperation, his overwhelming desire to feel anything.

How had Varian missed the signs? Of course there was more to his dad than he thought. The mysterious chest with the symbol on it—the same symbol Hector wore on his cloak. The graphtyc sitting on his bedside table, containing the scroll piece that told of the Sundrop. The fact that "Secrets" appeared to be his middle name.

Would he ever get a chance to truly know who his father was?

Hector was his best chance. If he returned, Varian would ask him about it.

As well as asking him about the very suspicious-looking cloak stashed in the bag he had left behind.

Varian stared at the piece of cloth in shock. He had casually reached into the bag to find the water, and instead he found this! The material was clearly fine, not something an ordinary person would wear. No, this must belong to royalty or nobility. And… was that gold threading along the edges? From the design, it looked like a lady's. What was a brusque, burly warrior doing with something like this? Did it belong to his sister Adira? Varian didn't know much about women, but even warrior women liked to wear nice things occasionally, right?

It was still too hot to try to put the blanket back over himself, but the cloak was just right, and within a few minutes he was fast asleep.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector raced into Old Corona just before sunset. The guards stationed at the hole in the wall completely missed the bearcat jumping from tree to tree until it soared over the barrier and landed noiselessly on the other side.

To no one's surprise, there were already wanted posters of Varian tacked everywhere, as well as a poster for "The Mysterious Accomplice." Some idiot had tacked two of these posters to the back door of Quirin's house (the front door had been sacrificed to either the black rocks or Varian's open floor plan; it was hard to tell which). And great elephants, whoever was drawing these posters needed to be fired! Varian looked okay, if not a bit menacing, but Hector's carefully braided hair was all wrong!

There were guards patrolling around, but it took very little skill to avoid them. Honestly, was this the best Corona had to offer? No wonder a scrawny fourteen-year-old had almost managed to beat them. Hector slipped inside the house and quietly shut the door behind him and Riki. "Stand guard," he ordered the bearcat. Then he slunk through the house and to the bedrooms.

The last time he was here, he had only taken a brief glance around before finding Quirin in the lab. And he hadn't been expecting to rescue a child. Now, however, he could get some much-needed supplies. Finding a room that was more than likely Quirin's, he took note of the unopened chest near the wall, the mark of the Brotherhood standing out against the lid. Getting sentimental, brother? You swore us off, remember?

Crouching down beside the chest, Hector slipped off his glove and placed the back of his hand against the Brotherhood symbol. A small click sounded from inside the chest, and the lid popped open. With a sad smile, Hector examined the remains of a life left behind twenty-five years ago.

The armor was the first thing he noticed. It was dusty and worn, unlike how Quirin used to keep it. He was always the one nagging Hector about keeping his armor in good condition. The helmet had a long scratch on it. Apparently Quirin had meant it when he said he was done with the life of a soldier.

The next thing was his sword. Hector lifted the blade out and examined it. Still in good condition. He laid it off to the side to take with him.

The third item was a framed picture of the three siblings. Ouch. Yes, that was definitely coming with him. Varian might like to see that. The Brotherhood had been so young!

Piece by piece, Hector unpacked his brother's chest, feeling like he was breaking some unspoken rule. Some items, like a golden bracelet (a gift from Adira, if he remembered correctly), were mementos of sentimental times. Others, like the lock picks stashed near the bottom, were more practical. In the end, Hector repacked everything except the sword, the lock picks, the picture, and a cloak that looked like it might fit Varian with a bit of tailoring.

He left Quirin's room and went to Varian's. The second he entered, he smiled. This room was a haven of oddity, with random items Hector couldn't identify if his life depended on it scattered everywhere. Many of them looked dangerous. Most of the room looked to have been destroyed in the black rocks' rampage, but Hector did find a few books lying around. He stuffed them into his bag. He briefly considered bringing the guitar in the corner, but they had to travel light. Then he crossed to the wardrobe. The clothes were mostly in good condition, if a bit worn. He picked up a shirt and examined it. There were careful patches in it, the stitches small and dainty. Clearly someone had put time and effort into it. A second patch on the same shirt had stitches that were larger and less neat, but Hector could easily recognize them as Quirin's work. Leave it to his brother to use the same kind of stitches on a shirt that he did on battlefield injuries.

He stuffed several outfits into the bag. They would do for now, but he was still getting the kid new stuff. As he turned to go, he heard a scratching noise on the wooden floor outside the door. A gray, furry thing flung itself into the room and straight for Hector's face. It only made it partway before his hand snatched it by the scruff of the neck midair. The thing continued to hiss and claw at him in vain, twisting in his grasp.

"You done?" Hector asked. The thing quit struggling and stared at him skeptically. "You must be Ruddiger, huh?"

The raccoon chittered in response.

"Hmm. Your boy misses you. Want to see him again?"

Ruddiger glared at him suspiciously.

"Relax. I broke him out of prison last night. He wanted me to come pick you up. You coming or not?"

The pet sized him up for a minute. Hector was struck by how much his expressions reminded him of Varian. Finally, he nodded and allowed Hector to place him on his shoulder.

Making his way toward the door, Hector suddenly froze. The sound of guards talking reached him from the living room, and they were getting closer. Storms, Riki, what happened to keeping watch?

Even better, he recognized them.

"…Dunno. I mean, why would he come back here? There's guards everywhere!"

"Well, the raccoon ran in here. That probably means he came back. Why would he come here unless the kid came back?"

"Umm, because it lives here?"

"We at least need to look around just to say we did."

"And if he is in here? He's little, but he did kinda kick our backsides during the fight, remember!"

"Oh, he's not the one you boys need to worry about." Hector stepped into the living room, a feral grin splayed across his face.

The guards' faces fell as they recognized him. "Not again…"

Thirty seconds later, man, raccoon, and bearcat were back over the wall and racing back towards the campsite, leaving behind the same two unconscious guards as the night before.

O‴O‴O‴

It was early in the pre-dawn hours of the next day when he and his furry companions made it back to the campsite. Leaping off Riki's back, Hector grinned as he looked over at his nephew. The child was curled up with the queen's cloak, looking as peaceful as a babe. Kiki was curled up next to him. The bearcat purred happily as his brother and human returned.

He hated to disrupt the peaceful scene, but his excursion into Old Corona was bound to turn some heads. On the way back, he had very nearly run into a guard patrol out looking for the escaped child. While the glade was relatively secure, the sooner they left, the better. The guards were probably only a few hours out.

And a certain raccoon was getting impatient to see his boy.

As soon as Ruddiger saw Varian, he leaped off Hector's shoulder and raced towards him. He plowed into his human's side, waking him up with a gasp of pain.

That was when Hector realized he had forgotten to explain what had happened to Varian.

The boy immediately curled in on himself, his arms over his head. His entire frame trembled. Ruddiger drew back in shock, then glared at Hector accusingly.

"Crap! Don't give me that look, rat. I didn't hurt him." He knelt down next to Varian and spoke softly. "Hey, kid. It's okay. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you. It's okay. Just breathe."

Varian's breathing slowed, and he uncurled just enough to look up at Hector. "Hec…"

"It's okay. I brought a friend."

Ruddiger popped his head into view. Varian gasped and uncurled the rest of the way, gently picking the raccoon up with his good arm. "Ruddiger?" Tears flooded his eyes and streamed down his face. "Ruddiger! It's you! I can't believe it!"

Ruddiger chirruped happily and nuzzled into Varian's chest, eliciting another yelp of pain. The raccoon pulled away and chittered nervously. He looked his boy up and down carefully and glared at Hector again.

"Easy, pest. He was like that when I found him. Actually, worse."

"'S okay, Ruddy," Varian said as he scratched his pet's ears. "Hector's nice. He saved me."

"Yeah, speaking of, we gotta go. You good to travel?"

Varian nodded. "I'll manage." He tried to get to his feet. Hector instinctively reached out a hand to help him up, causing Varian to flinch away.

"S-sorry," the boy whispered. "I'm sorry."

Hector's heart shattered. "Don't be," he responded immediately. "I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Hmm?"

Hector sighed and sat next to Varian, still at a safe enough distance. "You don't have to apologize for having these instincts. You can work on them around people who want to help you, if you want, but you don't ever have to apologize for having them. It's not your fault."

Varian seemed to consider those words. "But… I did—"

"Kid, if you say you did bad things and you deserved what they did to you, I'm gonna scream."

The child didn't answer for a minute. Then he held out a trembling hand. "…Could you help me up? Please?"

His breath caught in his throat. "Y-yeah, okay. Okay." He stood and offered his hand once more. Varian hesitantly took it. It did not escape the warrior's notice that he was shaking. As Varian stood, Ruddiger climbed up to Hector's arm and extended his tiny paws to his human, who helped him climb onto his shoulder. The child seemed to stand straighter and more confidently with his little friend curled around his neck.

"I missed you, buddy," he whispered happily. Then he turned to Hector with a shy smile. "Thank you. For everything. I forgot to tell you earlier."

"Eh, no problem. Don't get sentimental; you'll make me cry. No one wants to see that. Anyway, we have to leave. We can rest a ways down the road."

Varian nodded. "Okay. How did you find Ruddiger?"

"He found me." Hector started picking up the remains of the campsite. Varian started to help, but he waved him off. "He wasn't thrilled with the idea of me going through your stuff."

"You went through my stuff?"

"Yep. Grabbed you some clothes and a couple books. Flynnigan Rider, or something like that. And a cloak of your dad's. Figured we could trim it to your size."

"That reminds me. Who does that belong to?" He pointed to the cloak he had been sleeping with.

"That?" He had almost forgotten the queen's gift. He picked it up and started to fold it carefully. "It's from Her Royal Majesty, apparently."

Varian stared at him incredulously. "You stole the queen's cloak?!"

"What? No! I ran into her during our escape. She put it on you. Something about not letting anyone see your hair." He glanced back at the kid, who was staring in shock. "You good?"

"She… I don't understand. She helped me escape?"

"Yeah. I thought it was weird, too. Something about some guy named Fred treating you wrong." He placed the folded cloak back in the bag.

Varian visibly flinched at the name. "…Yeah. That would be His Royal Pain." His eyes widened. "Sorry!"

"Hey, you don't got to apologize for that. If he gave the go-ahead for them to do that to you, talk trash all you want. It's therapeutic." He grimaced. "Let me guess. They didn't exactly let you badmouth him?"

"Ehh, no. That was off-limits. Along with talking in general. But I don't understand! Why would Queen Arianna help me?"

"Why not? Clearly her husband has a severe case of little-man syndrome. And she seemed like a reasonable sort. I wonder if it was an arranged marriage?"

Varian started to laugh, then bit his lip.

"Kid, you can laugh. It's fine."

He couldn't hold back after that. "I've never heard anyone disrespect him like that! The only person who even dares is King Trevor of Equis, and he's an even littler man than King Frederic! Well, I mean, he is less of an absolute trashbag, but still!"

Hector grinned. It was amazing to hear Varian laugh. And the look on his face as he freely and openly insulted his tormentor! "You ain't seen nothing. Half the stuff I could say would bring Quirin down on my head." His eyes widened as he realized that was probably not the right thing to say.

To his surprise, Varian didn't look hurt. He just tilted his head curiously. "Do you…could you maybe tell me about my dad? He didn't exactly talk much."

Hector finished packing up and looked back at his nephew. Of course Quirin would have told him nothing. He hadn't even told the kid about the Brotherhood. "Yeah. Yeah, I can tell you about him. What do you want to know?"

Varian's eyes went wide, and he responded in excitement, "Everything!"

Hector laughed then. "Everything, huh? All right. It may take a while, but I suppose we've got time to kill on the road. We'd best make tracks, first." He motioned for Varian to get on Kiki's back. "You need a hand?"

Varian nodded. "Please."

Kiki crouched down, and Hector helped Varian climb on his back. "You okay to ride by yourself?"

He nodded. "I'm good."

"'Kay." He climbed on Riki's back. The bearcats were powerful, capable of running for days on end without stopping. "Let's go." Riki and Kiki lunged forward, and Hector smirked slightly as he heard Varian's started yelp behind him.

Then he sighed. Two days ago, he never would have considered the possibility that he was going to be taking care of his nephew. He had never even met him! Somewhere along the way, that had changed. Now he was… ugh, getting attached.

Ah, whatever. So he was somewhat fond of the kid. Adira would laugh her head off if she could see him now.

For better or for worse, he was keeping the kid. And blast anyone who tried to take him away.

"Mr. Hector, sir?"

Hector looked back to Varian, who was clinging to Kiki's fur with his good hand. He seemed to be handling himself okay. "Yeah, kid? And you don't have to call me mister."

"Did you ever decide where we're going?"

Ah, he'd forgotten to explain that. And he had made that comment about leaving Varian somewhere.

Idiot. The kid thinks you're planning on ditching him! This whole time you've been making plans, and he thinks you want to get rid of him!

"Yeah, yeah. We're headed back to my place."

"Really?" He didn't miss the shock in the kid's voice.

"Yeah. You'll like it. Big tree. Lots of scrolls. You'll have a blast."

Varian was silent for a moment. Then he asked, "Did my dad ever go there?"

"A time or two. He wasn't a fan." He grinned. "I believe I promised to tell you everything about him?"

Varian's smile was bright enough to outshine the sun itself.

As always, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thank you and God bless!