Hello. I have been attacked by plot bunnies. Woe is me.

Hans was nineteen and travelling the world with his brother Hendrik. All in all, a supposedly enjoyable experience. In reality? Not so.

At nineteen, Hans was at a respectable above average height. Hendrik was a full head taller. After his stint in the Army and the heavy exercising schedules it included, it was safe to say that Hendrik was a monster of a man. With his ridiculously huge shoulders and bulging biceps, Hans always felt so fragile before his brother.

It was the same with the most of his brothers. If you didn't qualify for the next heir in line, when you were twenty you were drafted into the army (Hans found it ridiculous that there were actually guidelines for what the King and Queen of the Southern Isles could do with sons after the seventh.) As such, most of his brothers were very well built.

When Hans was smaller he was always terrified of his brothers, they were always towering over him. When Hans was finally finished with puberty and could proudly say that he was taller than some brothers, he was still intimidated by their physicality. It was probably the reason he had such a fondness for books. What he couldn't make up for in muscle mass, he would make for in sheer knowledge. And even with the knowledge of words that his brother sometimes never heard of, he still had that small niggling fear of his brothers. (They could probably rip his arms straight off his torso with their bare hands; a bit like ripping legs off a roast turkey. If not, they would probably slice him like a fish with their swords. That could soon be remedied by him joining the army.)

All his brothers scared him a bit, but Hendrik took the cake. Not only was he the tallest among his brothers, but also the most physically. Hendrik could easily lift Hans with a single hand (Seriously, what was his brother eating?) And along with the big brute look also came the big brute mentality.

Yes, Hendrik could be awe-inspiring and a great leader, but give him a puzzle and watch him leave the room in five minutes with a smug look on his face. If one paid attention, one would find out that it was not because he had solved it, but because he had flung the puzzle out of the window. A few times, when Hans was younger and much more naive and slower, he used to follow the puzzle too. Thankfully, it was mostly out of the ground or first floor window. (At least it helped him learn to always land on his feet)

Hans didn't hate his brother as such, but he never liked him. Familial familiarity was present; it was the familial affection that was missing. The few of his brothers that he could tolerate were generally the older ones, the ones that required a sharp intellect to keep up with the needs of their official positions. (The fact that they were busy enough to not waste their time bullying Hans when he was younger probably helped.)

But as they say, you can't always get what you want, so Hans was stuck travelling the world with Hendrik. At the moment, the two were residing in an inn in a town called Hamelin. It was nearly midnight, and Hans was still at the lounge. A candle in an ornate candle stand was the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark room. Upon the polished oak table on which the candle stood, was a book which had a very interested Hans peering into it.

It was uncomfortable, Hans had to admit to himself (His back was killing him) but the book was too interesting to just close and keep for another day. So Hans, with the incredible mental fortitude he had stayed hunched over the book, completely ignoring his woes (His back was really killing him. It was more effective than any professional assassin.)

The shuffle of footsteps came down from his brother's room, and Hans had to sigh in relief as he straightened his back to greet the emerging person. The woman that exited the room had incredibly messed up hair and haphazard clothes thrown all over her body. Hans didn't visibly react at the lady at all. He just impassively watched her as she scurried around the room searching for her shawl. (It was kept in a bundle on the nearest armchair that Hans kept it on after he found it discarded on the floor after he had come back from a stroll around town after dinner. He hated messes.)

He glanced out of the window. All was still. The moon was hidden by the thick clouds from which snowflakes slowly descended from. One could barely see anything outside. Was she really planning on going back to her house at this time of the night?

He glanced at the girl. She was pretty, he supposed, with that long flowing black hair, those startling blue eyes and those full pouty lips. Her body was one of those possessed by most young maidens, curvy, but not too voluptuous, and not a hint of excess body fat. Very maiden-like, somewhat fragile and definitely not made for the storm outside with the thin fabric of the clothes she wore

"Are you really planning on going outside right now? You'll probably freeze to death. Why don't you take my room? I'll make do with the armchair."

She turned, startled, and looked at Hans with wide eyes. "Y-your Majesty?" she squeaked.

Hans had to blink before finally understanding her surprise. He supposed that not many commoners had the experience of royalty actually showing them kindness, especially for one in a small town like Hamelin. Then he frowned, showing his displeasure at his suggestion being turned down.

"Your shawl," he drawled bending backwards to lift it from the armchair "is woefully thin. I really doubt it will give you much protection from the cold, especially right now. Also, it's snowing right now. Just take my room."

She blushed as Hans scolded her like a mother would scold her child. It was rather comical if one realized that the woman was in her thirties while Hans was not yet in his twenties. She opened her mouth to protest, but Hans cut her off. "No arguments, you're sleeping right here."

She lowered her head, chastised. "Y-yes your Majesty."

"Please, it's Hans." He said waving his hand dismissively. She gave a clumsy half bow muttering something that sounded suspiciously like Elaine before scuttling off to his room.

Hans sighed, cradling his forehead as he went back to his book. Now that Hans had time to think, he found himself appreciating the woman's qualities more and more. Maybe if he wasn't so young...but he wasn't one to change fate.

His choice in friends sometimes confused his family. A few travelling merchants, the baker from Corona, the fisher boys back home were included in the list; a common harlot would fit right in.

-Legends-

A short while ago, in a kingdom not so far away, lived a father, a mother and their daughter. They lived a happy life, filled with the simple contentment an easy life had. They were neither too rich, nor too poor. The father was a merchant, travelling for a long time to provide for his family, while the mother took care of the daughter. It wasn't an easy life, but they found their happiness in it.

Time passed and the daughter grew. She was beautiful. But a hard life does not a maiden make. She started helping around the village to earn a bit of money to be able to provide for her now ailing parents. Her long blonde hair was bushy and tangled, while it could have been smooth flowing tresses. Her deep blue eyes which might have captivated the hearts of many a man had dulled with the passage of time. In another world, she may have been one of the fairest beauties in the land, but it was not to be.

One day, the prince of the land held a ball, for he wished to marry. He invited every girl in the kingdom, and naturally the daughter of the merchant wished to go. If not for the romantic ending, she wished it so that she would be able to provide for her father and mother. But what was she to wear? Her mother, seeing the daughter distraught, visited the wise old lady of the village for advice.

"Go shower this powder round an elm tree and keep a saucer of milk as an offering." The old woman said. "Perform the ritual and one of the Fey Folk shall be summoned. Give the offering and make your wish."

"But remember, what she gives, she takes back tenfold." The old woman warned, but the mother paid no heed. The mother performed the ritual and summoned the fairy. She asked for the fairy to help her daughter win the heart of the prince, so that he may marry her.

With a wave of her wand the witch transformed the plain drab clothes of the daughter to stunning and magnificent gown, her scraggly hair into long flowing tresses wrapped around in an elegant bun. The dark circles of weariness under her eyes vanished. With another wave, a pumpkin turned into a magnificent carriage and mice turned to handsome white steeds.

The daughter was delighted and went to ball in haste. The prince fell head over heels when he first laid eyes on her. A year later, a healthy boy was born. The prince and the newly named princess fawned and doted over the boy and the kingdom rejoiced.

-Legends-

Hans was now twenty two. After a brief stint in the army, the king felt that he better served the kingdom as a diplomat, travelling far and wide to secure trade deals and alliances with neighbouring kingdoms. But more importantly, his brothers didn't scare him any more (except Francis. Everyone should fear their king.)

No longer was he a gangly boy any more, his years in the army served him well. Now packing some muscle, he did not fall over with a single puff of air (He also learnt to use a sword properly. Good bye self inflicted wounds.)

He was back in Hamelin, the place he had first met Elaine. The two had kept a steady correspondence over the years through regular interchange of letters (For a small village, Hamelin had a rather impressive literacy rate.) The previous letters had indicated that there had been a lot of changes in Elaine's life that she would prefer discussing in person. Luckily enough, on this last tour deal, Hans was close enough to Hamelin to make a small detour.

He walked through the streets of Hamelin, enjoying the afternoon sun warming his skin as he took note of the changes that had taken place in the town. It was much less shabby; the buildings were bigger and much more intricately designed as compared to the last time he was here, a clear sign of prosperity. He rounded a corner and knocked on the small quaint house, hoping that the directions were not wrong,

They weren't. The door was opened by a woman who had dark hair, with a few wisps of white streaking it. Blue eyes widened when they recognised his features. Her lips twisted up in a smile.

"Hans."

Hans allowed his own to curl upwards too. It had been too long.

"Hello Elaine."

Blinking and remembering her manners Elaine scurried out of the way and made a sweeping gesture to invite him to enter. Hans had to let out a chuckle before doing so. She ushered him into a wooden chair, the best she could afford and immediately went in to get a cup of tea. Minutes later, the two were speaking like long lost friends.

His eyes crinkling in amusement, his mouth still kept in an eternal smile he asked "So what did you want to tell me?" Her laughter immediately ceased, her brow knotting in worry. Hans sensed the shift in mood and his own happy temperament shifted into one that was more serious.

"Elaine? What's wrong?"

She took in a few shuddering breaths before giving out a soft whisper. "I got a son."

Hans blinked, uncomprehending for a moment, before giving a wide smile. "This is wonderful!" Startled by the sudden change in mood, Elaine's eyes widened, and smiled a bit (Hans knew for a fact that his smile was infectious.)

"What's his name?" Hans asked, and Elaine gave a soft smile, no doubt thinking of the child answered softly "Hansel. He's named after his uncle."

Hans gave another smile before it hit him. Hansel. The child was named after the uncle. There was no possible way it could be-.

The smile fell and Hans licked his lips. "Hendrik's?"

Elaine froze, realizing her mistake before trying to diffuse the situation. But one glance at Hans' green eyes widened with worry left her incapable of doing anything other than give small nod. But for Hans it was confirmation enough.

Hans sat there in silence, his mind reeling. How was he supposed to react to the fact that Hendrik was a father? How was he supposed to react to fact that the child was named after him? But more importantly, how was he to break the news to his brother?

Hendrik hadn't changed much. He still was a brute who either drank himself to sleep some nights or found desperate women to help him do so. Sometimes both. With all those thoughts running in his head, only one thing was he sure of. Hendrik was not capable of being a father.

He glanced up at Elaine, her face drawn tight with worry. Drawing in a steady breath to calm himself he whispered "Can I see him?"

She gave a curt nod before rising to feet, Hans followed her lead. She led him to a nearby room, just past the kitchen, he noted (And judging from the smells coming from inside, Elaine was a damn good cook.)

The room was darker than Hans was used to, but it was to be expected. Not everyone could afford to have expensive chandeliers in their rooms. The darkness was...nice. In all honesty, it was much easier on the eyes. In the bright rooms of the palace, Hans had always felt his eyes over stimulated indoors. Natural light agreed the best with him.

The room had a few drawers a small cupboard a small rocking horse and a small bed in the corner. On the bed was a small bundle wrapped around in a thin sheet with only a mop of red hair exposed.

Without any prompting, Hans approached the bed and sat on the edge and glanced back at Elaine. She was watching nervously, apprehension written all over her features. Hans glanced back at the bundle and slowly pulled off the sheet, so as to not disturb the sleeping child.

The child had a small round face, his eyes closed as he slept on peacefully. His cheeks were round and rosy. The face was the epitome of innocence and naiveté. Swallowing nervously, Hans hesitantly reached out to brush a strand of hair from the child's face.

Hans had never felt much affection for his family. Familiarity was there, respect was a given for a few family members, but never outright affection. But maybe, just maybe, he could learn to do that here. As he continued stroking the child's hair, all of Hans' worries as to how he would break the news of the child to his brother were washed away.

He turned to give Elaine a smile. It was small, but somehow conveyed the amount happiness Hans was currently feeling. It was much more than he had felt in a long time.

He gazed at the two year old once more.

Hansel.

He smiled once more as something caught his throat.

He was an uncle.

And he couldn't be happier.

-Legend-

The child grew up in luxury. All he wanted was given to him. And for the time being, everyone in the land was happy.

The child was a thin thing, never fit to be a warrior, at least not the conventional type. The boy was fast, exceedingly so, and was especially talented with his fingers. With the proper training, the child could have been an assassin, with fingers dancing over the hilt of a dagger, cutting people before they were aware of his presence. But the kingdom was not warlike, and so, he wasn't trained.

The boy had the curious gift of befriending any animal nearby. The guard hounds that used to snap at anyone that wasn't their master would be reduced to gambolling puppies around the prince. The birds in the trees used to listen attentively as the prince played his flute.

The stories also say that the prince had the ability to change the hearts of people. A story goes that once an assassin from an enemy kingdom had come for the king, but was found by the prince. To silence the boy the assassin drew his dagger, but the child asked "Are you here to kill my daddy?" The assassin couldn't bear the loss of innocence in the child which would have been caused by his actions, and so he slunk away, leaving the king unharmed.

The boy grew into adolescence, still thin and reedy, and with all the wealth in the world. Whatever he asked of the king, the king would give. Soon his demands got too large for the kingdom to handle, leaving quite a large hole in the finances of the kingdom. The taxes in the land soared sky high, and the citizens grew unruly. Revolts took place all over the land, destabilizing the kingdom. And in one such revolt, the citizens stormed the castle and slew all the royalty, but for one.

The disgraced prince fled the kingdom, and was taken in by a settlement of elves. It was here he heard about his mother's deal with the Fey Folk. Her death had just been the beginning of the repayment. The prince was filled with fury at the real cause behind his mother's death, and vowed to slay all the Fey Folk that inhabited the land. From the elves, he learnt how to use the innate magic he had been gifted with, and armed with nothing but the knowledge of magic and a flute he had carved of reed, the prince set off on his quest of purging the Land of all Fairies.

And thus began the tale of the Pied Piper.

-Legend-

"I beg of you, please help us. All I wish to do is learn of what has befallen the youngest Prince of the Southern isles. I haven't heard from him in a long time and he is a close personal friend. Just help me and my son get to the Southern Isles and I shall pay you in full."

The Piper gazed dispassionately at the begging woman before him, her six year old child shifting his gaze from his mother to the Piper in alarmed confusion.

She was offering quite a hefty sum of money to him for a standard escort. There didn't seem any inherent dangers to doing the deed. After all, who would want to attack a no-name woman from Hamelin? Rather, it was him in more danger than the woman.

The Piper knew the kind of man the mayor was. Even though all the children had been returned, the Piper had insulted the very town of Hamelin by taking them away in the first place. The mayor would place quite a bounty on his head as soon as possible. The thugs aiming for him might not do anything for fear of hurting a citizen of Hamelin, so as far as the Piper was concerned, she was protecting him instead.

All in all, a huge benefit for him.

"Very well, come along then." He said in the tinkling musical way he spoke as he turned around and started walking, not waiting for the woman get over her shock. The mother quickly scooped up her child and followed the Piper.

So yeah, that's it. Just a clarification for those who might have found this a bit confusing. Hansel is NOT the Piper. In fact they have no relation whatsoever other than the Piper tried to kidnap the children of Hamelin, Hansel included. The Piper isn't exactly an OC, per se. The Brothers Grimm (heard of em?) wrote a series of fairy tales, the Pied Piper of Hamelin is one of them. In said story, the Piper is the protagonist?main villain (depends on which version of the story you've read). I'm using the version in which the Piper returns all the children after the mayor agrees to pay him the required amount. Not the one in which he kills all the children.

So yeah, tell me what you think. This is one of those stories in which I haven't planned much of it, so if any of y'all have any ideas about what should happen, please share. And no, this will not have a lot of fluff. I'm horrible at that shiz. It will be present, but not in large amounts.

Hope y'all enjoyed!

-ProdigyPsycho