I told you I'd write more soon.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to the Tangled franchise. I only own this story idea and any characters I create.
Getting his guest back to the house somehow proved to be the least eventful part.
Terrance and his friends didn't ambush him. They had probably gone home long before the sun began to set. Plus, something told him the bird-of-prey sticking around would probably have warned him if they had company.
He had taken a different way back anyway in the hopes of avoiding any villagers, especially at this time when everybody should be returning from the fields. While his house was set further away, more towards the wall surrounding Old Corona, there was usually somebody passing by for one reason or another.
He'd been working on explanations the whole way over as he tried not to drop his guest.
How was he supposed to explain what happened? Sure, he could tell the truth and say he found him unconscious by the river. It was weird, but at least he could use the excuse that his guest was an injured traveler.
Then they'd ask, why not take him to the doctor? Well, Varian was a bit worried about handing off a stranger to the local doctor without telling his dad. Unfortunately, his excuses to take him home so his dad could care for him felt flimsy at best.
Besides that, he also found himself nervous about dragging his possibly foreign guest into town. He didn't know where this person came from. For all he knew, he could be from a kingdom with a hostile history with Corona, which would not help his guest at all.
His worrying seemed to have been for nothing, though. No one had been nearby to see him scrambling awkwardly up the stairs as he tried desperately not to drop his guest, the hawk having now decided to perch on his shoulder.
Had he finally run out of bad luck for the day? Or maybe his guest had taken the brunt of the luck for him, remaining unconscious throughout the trip?
That last part might be true because when Varian, after a moment of struggling, managed to open the door, he tripped over his feet and pitched forward with a yelp. Only instinct had him twisting them, so his shoulder took the brunt of the damage while his guest enjoyed a bumpy ride.
The whine and indignant screech he gets said otherwise.
"Sorry, sorry," He whispered, gently rolling the other off of him as best he could before throwing himself at the door to close it.
He let out a relieved breath, taking a moment to lean his forehead against the wood to calm his racing heart. He was positive nobody had seen him.
"Dad?" He called hopefully as he crouched next to his guest.
He would have already been calling for him if his dad were home. Probably would have been waiting in the living room with a lecture fully prepared. Instead, the house was quiet, leaving Varian torn between relief and frustration.
Well, at least he had even more time to plan his explanations.
"Okay, here we go," He grunted as the hawk landed on his shoulder again.
Hooking his hands beneath his guest's armpits, he carefully dragged him into the living room and onto the couch. The raptor left his shoulder and perched himself on the backrest.
To make him a little more comfortable, Varian unclasped the traveler's cloak, noting the oddly-shaped clasp but not focusing on it, and unclipped the empty sword sleeve from his belt.
Now that he was finally home, Varian allowed himself to take a break. Still holding the wet cloak, he sat on the coffee table, ignoring the scolding voice in the back of his mind.
He took a moment to observe his guest better since they were in the safety of his house. He had pale skin, short dark brown hair that stopped just under his chin, and light freckles across his cheeks. His facial features seemed rounded, similar to his own, slim yet athletic-looking, and Varian hazard that his guest was taller than him by about an inch or two.
Now that the cloak was off, Varian finally got a better look at what the other teen was wearing. He had on a beige brown jacket over a red shirt. His pants were navy blue, the ends tucked into brown boots that matched his jacket, and there was a brown belt around his waist with a couple of pouches on both sides. He also had a pair of black swordsman gloves, and Varian guessed that the necklace he found was supposed to be around his neck.
Remembering the still-wet cloak in his hands, Varian knew he needed to get towels and dry clothes. Maybe even make something warm to eat and drink. That way, he'd also have something to placate his father when he got home.
A pained groan from his guest stopped him before he could do anything, noticing the other's eyes fluttering. Relief washing over him, he moved closer to his guest as he started to stir, hand reaching out for his shoulder.
"Hey, take it easy–" His words were cut off as they both screamed, echoed by a startled shriek from the hawk.
Varian recoiled in shock and pain, landing harshly on his backside as his hands flew up to hold his nose. He hisses, eyes squeezed shut as he applies pressure but forces them back open when he hears a flurry of movement with flapping wings and a grunt of pain mixed in.
It takes only a moment to find his guest, pressed against the opposite wall of him and clutching his left arm, eyes squeezed shut similarly. The bird had moved down the couch to get out of the way of the flailing human.
He's ready to speak, maybe to give a sarcastic 'thank you' or reassurance that it's okay, but the words die on his tongue. Time seems to stop as his eyes open and then lock on his.
Two light blue pools stare into his own with a pain-filled suspicious glare.
Varian swallows under their gaze. Like his guest's fist, it hits him that this was probably the stupidest thing he could have done.
Sure, he looked peaceful, even a little pitiful with his injuries, but that was when he was unconscious. Now he was very much awake, had attacked him, and was still glaring at him.
Who knows what he was going to do next? Where was his dad when he needed him?
"Hi," He said, the greeting bursting out louder than he intended.
His guest jumped, time catching up to them as their connection was broken. Breath coming a little easier, Varian realizes with a start that he's not the only one freaking out.
His guest had his back pressed to the wall, the left side facing the wall as a way to protect his arm. His stare is still intense, but Varian can now see the fear on his face as his gaze flits around the room and then back to him.
It was sort of relieving to know they're in the same boat before guilt punches him in the face. If he weren't holding his nose, he would have smacked himself.
Of course, his guest was going to freak out! He was injured, and he had just woken up in a new place with a complete stranger!
Trying to smile reassuringly through the pain, Varian slowly drops his hands, extending one cautiously toward his guest. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
That was when he saw the blood on his hand and felt the iron taste on his lips. His last vision was his guest's shocked expression before passing out.
(POV Change)
His gaze snapped toward the gloved hand being slowly extended towards him, flinching at the splash of red smeared over it.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," The unknown boy said, offering him a smile through the blood on his face.
He didn't have time to think about whether things were really okay or not because the person caught sight of his bloody hand. His freckled face goes blank as his skin turns white as snow and his blue eyes roll into the back of his head as he falls back.
"Whoa, hey!" He exclaimed, instinct taking over as he pushed himself off the wall, hand reaching for the other.
However, they were too far apart. He froze halfway with a grimace at the thud, hand still outstretched.
Should he do something? Help him? He knew that was the right thing to do, but it was hard for him to focus at the moment, too consumed with feeling confused and lost to get his limbs back in working order.
Where was he? Where were his friends?
What about Courage? He was flying next to him when he was in the water?!
The last question was answered when a hawk cry from next to him got his attention, pulling a yelp out of him. He gave a sigh of relief with a shaky chuckle when he saw it was the hawk in question.
"Courage," He held out his right arm for him to perch. "Glad to see you're okay."
He gave an affectionate trill as he picked up the necklace he dropped in surprise before hopping onto his arm. Seeing what the bird was holding, the teen clutched his chest, realizing his pendant had come off in the water.
"Thanks, Courage." He smiled, relieved that he hadn't lost it. The bird-of-prey dropped it in his hand, and he slipped it over his head with one hand. "I should consider getting a chain for this."
Courage nodded before looking at the boy still on the floor.
The teen followed his gaze before giving him his own look that was a cross between sheepish and defensive. "What? You can't blame me for that after the day we've had!"
Courage tilted his head from side to side as if thinking it over.
Knowing that arguing with the bird would get him nowhere, the teen sighed heavily. "Never mind, let's focus on the here and now."
After reviewing the present situation and what he remembered about the accident, the teen concluded that while he doesn't fully remember it, he managed to pull himself out of the river. At some point, the boy on the ground showed up and brought him here, which was most likely his house. He wouldn't be surprised if Courage left his side briefly to seek help and found the blue-eyed teen.
The question now was, is that a good or bad thing? Startled though he had been, the other male didn't look mean despite getting his nose busted.
Wait, he busted the other teen's nose! He should probably check on him; no doubt he was still bleeding.
"Should we try to wake him up?" He asked his companion, who moved his wings as if to shrug.
Sighing again at the lack of help, he thought over his options again.
Maybe he should just leave. Sure, the other boy looked nice while he was conscious, but what if somebody else found them?
Plus, he had a mission to do, and he had been separated from his teammates. It had already taken them a few months to travel due to bad weather, and they couldn't afford to waste any more time, especially with their final destination's dangers.
"Right," He said, coming to a conclusion. "We should leave. We need to get back to the others."
Courage consented to the plan, moving from his arm to his shoulder.
However, as soon as he moved to get off the sofa, he stopped, hissing in pain as his whole left side protested any movement.
The hawk looked at him with something like concern, fluttering down to sit on the coffee table so he could look at him. He screeches quietly at him, asking if he's alright.
Groaning slightly as the pain decreased, he tried to reassure his bird companion. "I'm fine; nothing's broken. Probably just sore from getting knocked around in the rapids."
Ignoring the pain for now, he got up and ran through a mental list of what to do next.
They should probably get the boy onto the sofa and leave a note apologizing. Then, grab his stuff and–!
Wait, where's his backpack?! Now that he thinks about it, where are his cloak and sword?!
Seeing his human friend panic, Courage catches his attention with a trill. He hops over to where the stranger had set his cloak on the table.
Calming down slightly, he became confused for a moment when he didn't see his weapon anywhere. Then he remembered that he had lost his sword in the water when he fell in.
Add one more thing to his to-do list: get a new sword.
He sighed again, recalling that his backpack was back with the others at their campsite. Which also meant his supplies were also there.
Checking his pockets, he felt relief wash over when he felt a couple of the alchemy bombs Lady Elaine had supplied them with before they left. Pulling them out, to his immense relief, nothing was damaged or contaminated.
He could handle himself in a fight, with a weapon and without. His preferred weapon was a sword, but if push came to shove, he could use hand-to-hand combat if needed. He also knows how to use battle alchemy from having Lady Elaine as a tutor growing up.
However, he only had three alchemy bombs: a smoke bomb, a flash bomb, and an ice bomb. Plus, while he knows how to use them, he doesn't know how to make them.
At least, not from memory. Lady Elaine had given them a journal with alchemy recipes for the bombs, but that was back with his supplies.
If a fight came up or he was ambushed while making his way back to his team, he would have to do what he had.
He was so focused on putting his equipment away that he didn't hear the door open and close. However, Courage did, turning to the entryway and catching his attention.
"What's wrong, boy?"
That was when he heard a voice calling out, "Varian?"
Head snapping up, he watched in dawning horror as an adult male stepped into the living room.
Time seemed to freeze as they locked eyes. The man's eyes widened, gaze flicking over him and the bird quickly before snapping to the boy lying on the ground.
Realizing how bad the scene probably looked, he wanted to explain himself and the situation. It was self-defense, a misunderstanding, the boy had frightened him, and he had overreacted.
Instead, his words died in his throat.
All his training for keeping calm failed him, watching in growing dread as the man's eyes darkened. His face hardened as it lifted back up to meet his own.
"Hevi kabisa!" He muttered in fear.
Thinking fast, he grabbed the nearest item, a piece of pottery, and threw it. The older male didn't even blink, knocking the crockery away and smashing it into a wall before charging him.
The brunette told Courage to fly behind him in his native language, grabbing his smoke bomb. Timing it right, he threw the chemical orb on the ground, starting a reaction that created a thick smoke screen cover.
Usually, that was enough to stop an opponent in their tracks. However, the older male kept coming. Even so, it slowed him down enough to dodge and get around behind him.
He staggered at the movement, his left side screaming at the exertion. Behind him, he heard the thud of something hitting a wall.
Shaking himself awake, he swivels to the right when he hears Courage call to him. Seeing the door, he took a step in that direction…
But that was as far as he got when something brown rushed him out of the corner of his eye. Throwing himself back with a yelp, he raised his arms to shield himself as wooden splinters exploded against the wall, raining down on him.
Before he could react further, a hand of iron closes around his arm, spinning him so they can grab the collar. His feet leave the ground, air rushing from his lungs as he's slammed into the wall, hands flying up in instinct to claw at the hands.
"Who are you?" The man demanded in a startlingly calm voice, pressing him harder into the wall.
He shakes his head, breathing harshly as every bone in his body aches with exhaustion and pain. He kicks his feet out, a frustrated growl escaping him when he can't get the momentum.
The stranger doesn't look impressed either, grip never wavering despite his thrashing. "Why are you here? What do you want?"
Trying to find a way out of this, he reached into his pocket, hoping to grab the light bomb.
However, the man was one step ahead of him. Not moving his gaze from him, he removed one hand from his shirt and grabbed his arm, roughly pulling it out of his jacket and pinning it against the wall.
"I won't ask again," The older man said, leaning closer.
He can't get enough air. He can't escape. His thoughts were firing off like shooting stars as his eyes tried to find a way out, only to be filled by the man looming over him.
Even so, a defiant light remains in his eyes.
Courage reacted on his own and flew at the man to get him to release his human friend.
He removed the hand holding the teen's arm and held it up like a shield. The hawk's talons scratched at his arm while her beak struck his face.
While that was happening, he scratched at the man's hand, trying to pry himself loose. He didn't notice in his struggles that his hands were sparking, like flint stones being struck together.
The man doesn't flinch, gloves protecting him from the bird-of-prey and the sparks, tightening his hold. "You can try and attack me as much as you want; I'm not letting go until–"
"Dad?" The new voice cut through the air, the man pulling back slightly.
A breath of relief escapes the teen, at the cost of the last of his adrenaline leaving him and causing him to sag as his hands cooled off. The hawk also pauses, his attention drawn to the other boy as he gets up in a partial daze.
The man cautiously turned his head enough to call over his shoulder without moving his gaze, "Varian, get upstairs."
"Wha– Dad, what are you–?"
"Varian, I said–"
"Dad, let him go; you're hurting him!"
He blinks, watching in a daze as the boy dashes to his father's side, bloody hands grasping at his arm. The father's brows raise to his hairline before furrowing as he peers cautiously at his son from the corner of his eye.
"He attacked you," He said, eyes darting to the blood-smeared down the boy's chin.
"No, no, no," The boy said quickly, gripping harder onto his arm but not pulling.
It probably wouldn't have done much good, not with those scrawny arms, the other teen notes absently.
He flinches as blue eyes suddenly lock onto his own. There's no anger. Instead, the boy looks weirdly guilty before looking back at his father.
"It's my fault! I found him at the river unconscious and brought him here–"
"Varian."
"When he woke up, I got too close and scared him! He didn't mean to hurt me! It wasn't even an attack; he only hit me once and then backed off! He's just confused and–"
"Varian!"
"He's hurt! He was holding his arm earlier!"
Silence falls between them, the boy staring pleadingly up at his father.
Despite the small argument, the father, who still hasn't moved his gaze from him, is now looking him over. His eyes check him up and down, brow pinching as he studies for any apparent injuries.
He should probably feel uneasy under the scrutiny, but he's too distracted staring at the boy. He was defending him? After he attacked him?
The boy notices his gaze and offers him a small, nervous smile as he mouths, "Sorry."
Varian. That was his name, right?
It had a nice ring to it.
There was a heavy sigh, and he started when his feet touched the ground, the fingers in his collar slowly uncurling to let him go. The hand doesn't leave, instead transferring to rest firmly on his shoulder.
It's probably for the best, as he slumps back against the wall, barely able to stand. He doesn't want to fall, to show any weakness, but everything feels heavy, his eyes fighting to stay open.
Courage leaves the adult's arm and takes residence on his other shoulder.
The man doesn't look any friendlier, his gaze still fixed on him for sudden movements, though now there's a layer of concern. Maybe even a little guilt, but that's probably the exhaustion playing tricks.
"Take it easy. You're coming down from an adrenaline rush," He said, voice stern, before turning to Varian. "Do you think you can get the first aid kit ready?"
Varian nodded, rushing off with a flurry of confirmations after glancing worriedly at him.
The man sighs when he leaves, turning and sizing him up. "Can you walk?"
Refusing to look weak, he pushes himself off the wall. It's not that impressive; he can feel himself shaking, clenching his fists in a fruitless attempt for control. He will not give up any dignity just because he's injured.
The man frowns but doesn't comment, guiding him towards the kitchen. "What's your name?"
He starts to respond, only to shut his mouth before even a letter could escape. Pursing his lips, his gaze darts away in thought as his stomach twists uncomfortably.
"Connor," He said after a minute. "My name is Connor."
"Quirin," The man offered.
As they entered the kitchen, they found Varian had set the first aid kit out on the table alongside a plate of bread rolls and a red jar sitting next to it. A kettle on the stove is most likely heating up water for tea or cocoa.
He's already got his spot at the table, wet washcloth pressed to his face. He tries to smile at Connor around it.
Connor can't muster a smile, feeling the fingers dig roughly into his shoulder, making his chest tighten.
"We have a lot to talk about."
The second chapter's up, and that's all for tonight.
