Trigger warnings: panic attack, pain, light blood

"What is that?"

"What's it look like? It's a hawk. Never seen one before?"

"I know it's a hawk. What's it doing in here?"

Hector put a hand to his heart dramatically. "Well, you didn't expect me to leave her outside, did you?"

It had been about five seconds since Varian had woken up and found a bird of prey staring into his eyes. Ruddiger had leaped up upon seeing the bird and hidden behind Varian's back. "Is she yours?"

Hector smiled proudly. "Nope! She's yours."

"What?"

"Well, I remembered you said that Cassandra lady had an owl, so I figured you could maybe use an attack bird of your own!"

Varian blinked. He had said that, hadn't he? He hadn't known Hector had caught that. He had been panicking at the time and rambling incessantly. "She's… she's mine?"

"Yep! Here, hold out your hand."

Varian immediately tensed. Hector's eyes widened. "Sorry! Sorry. I got you a gauntlet so you could hold her." He held out the leather gauntlet. Varian started to apologize, then stopped. He took a deep breath and took the gauntlet. Ruddiger, trembling though he was, crept out from behind Varian and helped him pull the gauntlet on.

"Thanks, bud." He'd missed being able to say that.

"Here." Hector slowly held out his arm to Varian so the hawk could step onto Varian's instead. She looked at him with dark, intelligent eyes and tilted her head slightly. Varian grinned and repeated the motion.

"When did you get her?"

"Earlier this morning."

In surprise, Varian glanced out the window for the first time to judge the position of the sun. "What time is it?"

"Around eight-ish. Why? You okay?"

"Y-yeah. Just… not used to sleeping in. Actually, not even used to sleeping in a bed." He gasped and clamped his mouth shut. "Sor—" he cut the word off. No, Hector told him to stop apologizing.

"Well," Hector stated with what was definitely forced cheerfulness. "We're gonna be on the road for a while, but when we get home, we're definitely getting you a proper bed." He turned and started packing up.

Home. The word sounded strange to Varian. Home had always been back at Old Corona with his dad. Then "home" had turned to "house" when his dad got trapped, and "house" had turned to "prison" when the masked men showed up shortly after the blizzard. But could he really leave it behind? Maybe to never return?

There's nothing there for you now. Just a jail cell and a world of hurt.

But how could he be expected to start over completely with a man he didn't know in a place he had never been?

What would happen if he stayed?

As the realization of his situation started sinking in, he felt tears spring to his eyes. He had been too much in shock from the rescue to think about what he was leaving behind. His entire life had been in Corona. Everything and everyone he had ever known. His father was trapped there, waiting on Varian to find a solution—

Stop it! He could no longer hold onto that hope. If he did, and he was wrong, it would be like losing him all over again. They all said he was dead, anyway.

But if he was right? What if his dad was still alive, and he never went back? What if he was trapped eternally in an amber prison because Varian was too afraid to return?

"You okay?" Hector's voice brought him back to reality. "Do you not like her?"

Varian shook his head. "No, I like her! She's great. Really. Thanks."

Hector's yellow eyes bored into his. He hadn't noticed before just how strange his uncle's eyes were. "If something's wrong, you can tell me."

The desire to tell Hector what was bothering him warred with the cautious side of him born from pain and rejection. If he told, Hector might decide he wasn't worth it and leave him behind. But if he refused, he may not get the chance until it was too late.

Unfortunately, the sad fact of the matter was that he needed Hector. He had no way of surviving on his own, and he would just get sent right back to the same hole he was pulled out of. Which meant he couldn't tell. Besides, there was nothing he could do to help his dad if he was stuck in prison.

But Hector had been trustworthy so far. He had been the first person in so long that Varian wanted to trust, to tell what was bothering him. If Varian told, Hector might understand and be willing to help him anyway. But could he take that risk?

"Kid?" Hector was watching him as if afraid he would fall apart if he took his eyes off him.

"It's… it's nothing. I'm fine."

Clearly Hector didn't believe him, but he didn't push him, for which Varian was thankful. "'Kay. Here, I'll hold her so you can get ready." He took the bird and set a napkin wrapped around something on the bed. "I got breakfast for you. Eat up. We gotta make tracks."

"Why? What's wrong?" He started getting ready to leave.

"Did some asking around. The sheriff, Quaid, is a bit of a stickler for the rules."

"Well, he's a sheriff."

"Yeah, and you're an escaped convict. Not saying he knows about you, but we'd best get out before he starts asking questions. We blend in like oil in water."

Hector finished packing while Varian got dressed and brushed his teeth. As horrid as he'd felt over the last few months, it was incredible the difference a change of clothes made. Hector still had to help him slip his shirt on over his splint, but he felt more put-together than he had since his arrest. His uncle had also somehow gotten ahold of biscuits with blackberry jelly, which reminded Varian again of the happy days before the disasters that resulted in him committing treason.

They paid the innkeeper, got the bearcats from the stable (where the horses were pressed up against the wall in fright), and left town about fifteen minutes after Varian had woken up. True to his word, Hector wasn't taking any chances.

"'Kay, so we might have a small problem," Hector informed him as they rode out, the hawk riding on his shoulder. "Where we're headed, the Great Tree, I think your little princess might be headed that direction."

"WHAT?!"

"Don't panic. I've got some ideas. It'll take her a while to get there, so we've got some time. We can travel faster than them since we've got Riki and Kiki—" here the bearcats growled their approval— "So we should reach the Tree in about three months. Maybe a bit more, since you're injured. Now, the lady at the inn told me the princess left about six months ago. I'd give her about five more to reach the tree, if she's hurrying. When she gets there, I'll take care of it while you hide."

"What makes you think that's where she's going?" Varian was reeling over the news that he might be forced to encounter her again. What if he couldn't get away in time?

"The folks back at Old Corona said she was controlling the black rocks. That leaves only two options. One: she's somehow connected to the Moonstone, in which case she's going to get it. Two: and I hate to even say this, because it means I'd have to admit Adira was right, but the princess might be the mythical Sundrop."

"She is."

Hector whipped his head around so fast his neck cracked. "What?"

"She's the Sundrop. You didn't know?" His blood ran cold just thinking about it. "The power of the Sundrop flower healed her mom when she was pregnant, and Rapunzel—" he spat out the name—"was born with its powers. That's how she controlled the rocks. That's… that's how she stopped me."

"Great," Hector growled. "That's just brilliant. That's just what I needed. What else could go wrong?"

"Why is that so bad? And what's the Moonstone?"

"That, nephew, is bad because it means I owe Adira twenty gold pieces. I told her the Sundrop was a myth. And the Moonstone is what causes the black rocks. It's a destructive force of nature that formed from a drop of moonlight centuries ago. The Dark Kingdom formed around it to keep anyone from using its power for evil and to protect the world from it. But… well, the power couldn't be contained. It was destroying the kingdom."

Varian had more questions, but he was still hesitant to ask. Talking about his dad was one thing, but the black rocks had destroyed everything he held dear. Well, except for Ruddiger, and it was a miracle he hadn't lost him forever, too. And Hector didn't look happy talking about his ruined home.

They had that much in common, at least.

O‴O‴O‴

They stopped mid-afternoon by a creek in a secluded part of the woods. The bearcats tussled happily in the grass while Hector started preparing lunch. The hawk flew off to hunt.

"Will she be okay?" Varian asked as he watched her go.

"Yeah, she'll be fine. She's wild."

"Really? When you said you got her this morning, I thought you meant, like, from a person!"

"Nah. Found her. What are you going to call her?"

"I think… Artemis."

Hector looked up from where he was digging through the bags. "Artemis? Really? Nerd." He was smiling, though. Varian tilted his head. It wasn't often the warrior smiled.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah. Can you fill the canteens? We should have plenty, but it never hurts to be careful. The water here should be good. Don't lift anything too heavy!"

Varian picked up the canteens and made his way down to the creek's edge. Ruddiger spotted an apple tree nearby and disappeared from Varian's side. It still hurt too much to try to hold him on his shoulders the way he was used to doing. He had tried, but it put too much pressure on his ribs. Hector wouldn't even let him carry the lightest of the bags.

As he knelt down and started filling the canteens, his eye spotted something shining in the water. He placed the now-full canteens aside and reached into the cold creek to retrieve the object. As he pulled it out, he could see it was a small teacup, perfectly undamaged and looking for all the world like someone had simply forgotten it there after an underwater tea party.

"That's weird." He looked around. That seemed to be the only sign of anyone else around.

Well, that and the cheerful voices that sounded from somewhere on the other side of the creek.

He looked back to where Hector was still preparing lunch. He wouldn't mind if Varian took a walk. Probably.

Seeing a neat little set of stepping stones, he crossed the creek and started walking through the woods. The voices got louder, and soon he stepped into a little clearing, where an elderly couple sat at a table in front of an odd little cottage.

The man was as thin as a rail, with curly red hair and a giant top hat. The lady had a wig about as big as the man's hat and was rather on the larger side. Their table looked like a giant mushroom and held the makings of a tea party. This must be the place, then.

As he stepped closer, the woman gasped in surprise. "My, my, what have we here?" Her companion looked up from where he was pouring tea.

"Umm…" Varian held out the teacup hesitantly. He was never one for trusting people, least of all strangers in the woods who used mushrooms as tables. "Is this yours?"

She put a hand to her mouth. "My goodness, it is! Wherever did you find it, my dear child?"

"It was in the creek."

"Oh, I'd thought we'd lost this for good," the man intoned dramatically as Varian handed the cup to him. "Thank you ever so much!"

"Oh, it's—" His words were cut short as the woman suddenly enveloped him in a bone-crushing, smothering hug.

And he panicked.

Every nerve in his body revolted at being touched. Every instinct he had built over the months in prison clamored in his mind, screaming at him to get away. His vision grew hazy, and he could no longer breathe. His broken arm was pressed painfully against her. In an act born of desperation, he twisted around in the woman's grasp and raked the nails of his right hand across her face.

With a startled cry, she released him. Varian dropped to the ground and scrambled away from her in a daze.

"VARIAN!" Then Hector was there, placing himself and his outstretched blade in between Varian and the strangers. "Back off, freaks!"

Varian was shaking. There was blood on his hands, under his fingernails, on the lady's face… his head hurt and he thought he might pass out. He shut his eyes. "I'm sorry I'm so sorry I didn't mean to—"

"Oh, that's quite all right, dear," the woman said cheerily. Varian forced his eyes open and saw her dabbing at the marks on her face with a handkerchief. "'Tis but a scratch! No real harm done."

Hector was looking him over. "You okay, kid?"

He didn't answer. Passing out was still very much a possibility.

"Oh dear," the man said. "Your son doesn't look so good."

"He's not my son." Hector's voice was oddly strained.

"No? Hm. You bear a slight resemblance. Perhaps extended family? Either way, perhaps he might benefit from a nice calming cup of tea." He poured one. "Our last teapot was much nicer, but that little twit came by and broke it. Selfish girl. Would you like some tea as well, my good sir?"

"Eh, we're good." Hector kept himself between Varian and the strangers. "We're not keen on drinking tea in the middle of the woods with a couple of weirdos."

The woman put a hand to her heart. "Weirdos? We're not weird! Just unusual! Rather like your little friend here."

Varian winced. Unusual was one of the nicer things he'd been called, especially in recent months, but one didn't exactly want to be considered "unusual" when running for their life.

He had his fist clenched tightly to avoid the sight of the blood. It wasn't a lot, and truthfully he'd think he'd be used to the sight by now, but it still made his head swim.

"Yeah, whatever. We're leaving. Sorry about your face, lady. Come on, kiddo." Not turning his back on the strangers for a moment, he motioned for Varian to move back the way they had come. Varian pulled himself to his feet and started to obey when the man spoke again.

"Oh, but wait! We haven't properly thanked the dear boy for returning the teacup! It's rather special to us, you know, and we want to show our appreciation!" He pulled a small box out of his coat pocket. "I admit I wasn't sure what to do with this, as it's rather not our color, but perhaps he may enjoy it!"

"Whatever it is, we don't need it. Thanks anyway."

"Oh, but we must insist!" the lady exclaimed. "In fact…"

Varian wasn't sure quite what happened next. One minute he was standing safely behind Hector. The next, a dark cloud had sprung up across the clearing, blocking his view. The air turned heavy and murky, and his lungs struggled to pull in oxygen. Within seconds, he had collapsed to the ground. Past the ringing in his ears, he heard a larger body hit the ground near him. Uncle Hector! What was going on?

Then a hand grabbed his arm in an agonizing grip.

O‴O‴O‴

Hector wasn't sure quite what happened. One minute, he was standing protectively in front of his nephew. The next, a dark cloud had sprung up across the clearing, making him lose sight of both Varian and the strangers. The air was a noxious fume, and he had no time to cover his mouth before his head was reeling and he dropped to his knees weakly.

No! No, no, this couldn't be happening! Where was Varian?

He reached out to try to find his nephew, but his hand met only empty space. A startled yelp sounded from a few feet away. He tried to turn in that direction, but the movement left him drained and dizzy and he dropped to the ground helplessly. "V…Var…"

A sharp scream came from nearby. It quickly morphed into something else, a strange panicked screeching, more animalistic than human. What the dickens? The noise was quickly cut off, and no more sound reached Hector's ears. No light made it past the oppressing cloud. The lack of oxygen was making him so dizzy, but he couldn't give in, not when Varian was in danger. He tried once more to force himself to his knees. The motion was too much, and he collapsed unconscious to the ground.

O‴O‴O‴

Varian tried to scream, but something was wrong. The sound was warped and mangled, like he wasn't even human. The hands that had grabbed him held him in place while something was wrapped around his throat. He couldn't move, couldn't fight back. He was seconds away from passing out when a shock of pain stabbed through him, running the length of his spine. His body contorted painfully, twisting and shuddering unnaturally. He tried to scream for Hector, but his lungs were out of air. He was shifting, his bones cracking and moving and changing. What was happening to him?!

Something seemed to close in around him. His entire body felt wrong. He tried to reach up, to claw at the thing around his neck, to scratch the hands that held him, but he couldn't make his arms cooperate. He was drained, weak, unable to defend himself. Tired of struggling in vain, he sagged weakly against the hands that suddenly seemed much bigger than they had been before. Despite the oxygen deprivation that stole his senses, he could vaguely feel himself being lifted up and moved. His last thought before he dropped into unconsciousness was, This feels like prison.

O‴O‴O‴

As sunlight filtered through the haze in his brain, it brought with it a sharp pounding behind his eyes. Hector groaned and tried to put a hand over his face, but something blocked it. Something furry.

He forced himself to open his eyes and was immediately met with the sight of a whiskery face. He could faintly hear the thing screaming at him through the ringing in his ears.

"Ru…Ruddi—" He groaned and pushed himself to a seated position. The raccoon fell from his chest to his lap. He continued to frantically pester the warrior. "Whaz… whazamatter?"

The recent events rushed back to the forefront of his mind. "Varian!" He shoved himself to his feet, ignoring the spinning of his head. The movement knocked Ruddiger off him. Hector's steps stumbled with an unusual awkwardness as he turned in a full circle to look around. Above him, on a nearby tree branch, Artemis screeched angrily, apparently rather upset over the recent events.

The smoke from earlier, apparently caused by a knockout bomb of some sort, had dissipated while he was unconscious. And the strangers had taken advantage of his unconsciousness. The clearing was empty. The strangers were gone. The house was gone.

His nephew was gone.

I promise this is actually going somewhere. And yeah, I'm assuming Varian would know a thing or two about Greek mythology.

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