Christmas is nearly here, so here's a little bit of fluff (enjoy it, while it lasts…). Most importantly, I sincerely wish you all a lovely time with your loved ones. If, for various reasons, you are feeling sad and lonely for Christmas, I'm sending you lots of hugs and love. Don't be alone. Try to call a friend, go out and meet some people, or write to someone.

Love you all !

Chapter 43

It was almost dawn when Varian started to stir in his sleep. The moon, not quite full yet, was casting a cold light on his bed. On the verge of waking, Varian was once more plagued by strange dreams and scary visions.

Ruddiger is the first one awake, due to Varian's restlessness. Sensing his friend's discomfort, the raccoon patted his tender cheek to bring him back to reality.

Varian woke up, confused and trying to get used to the dim light. He sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. Ruddiger pressed against his side, making his way under Varian's arm.

"Hi, Ruddiger !" he whispered. "Did you sleep w…"

He trailed off, as he realized he didn't remember going to bed last night. This was quite usual for him, as he would more often than not collapse out of exhaustion on his work rather than leave it for the night and lie down on his bed.

Oh, boy, he thought anxiously as he remembered how he cried himself to sleep on the stone floor before it was evening. How long did he sleep ? And who found him and put him to bed ?

Please let it be Remyus. Ethel would be fine too. Phil, why not ? Hans ! He would even take Hans, but please, please do not let it be…

The Queen.

Varian's heart skipped a beat as took in his surroundings at last. And there was Queen Arianna herself, asleep next to him in a makeshift bed.

The boy remained breathless as he gazed at her still form. What was she doing here ? Why wasn't she in her own, comfortable room ? Did the King know ? (that thought alone sent a shiver down his spine).

As the initial shock faded away, Varian swallowed hard and, realizing that he and Ruddiger were the only ones awake, let himself relax a little.

She was a beautiful sight, her face peaceful and serene, her hair for once gathered in a thick braid that rested on her pillow and over her shoulder. Not for the first time, the only word that came to Varian's mind as he basked in the lovely vision was angel.

In the eerie silence of dawn, the teen reached out to grab the journal that was sitting on his nightstand. That very journal the Queen gave him, and that he nearly threw at her face, his heart full of anger and contempt. But now, he felt the urge to pick up the pastel pencils she left with the book and draw his angel before the heavenly moment ended.

Varian propped up his knees to lay the thick journal on his thighs, Ruddiger moving up to rest across his shoulders. With expert fingers, he started to make a sketch of the Queen with an artistic talent that was uncommon for a fourteen-year-old.

Drawing effectively grounded the boy. It always had, but right there and then, it soothed him more than ever. He could let his mind wander as his hand worked. Yet, after a while, he gradually and obstinately traced darker lines over his first draft and his portrait of the Queen turned into the one he saw in his nightmare the day before as dark thoughts overpowered him again. Varian's hand added wrinkles, white hair and dark fog all around with thick lines that almost tore the paper, his whole body getting more and more tense in the process.

Ruddiger tried to get the teen's attention again, but Varian's mind was clearly somewhere else. His breathing became shallow and loud, almost like gasps. Was it the light swelling or the sounds Varian made that prompted the Queen to wake up at that moment, no one would ever know.

Still dizzy from sleep, she propped herself on one elbow, eyes wide at the sight of the boy's shaggy hair and bewildered eyes. She got out of bed.

"Varian ?..."

Varian froze and looked up. The Queen was standing next to him, deep concern in her eyes. Now he was out of his trance, he realized he had been crying.

When did the tears start to fall ?

He quickly wiped them with his sleeve and tried to fight them back, to no avail. It didn't matter much in the end, since his trembling hands gave away how much stress he was in.

"I didn't want you to wake up alone, especially in case you had another nightmare, Varian", she ventured.

Great. That's what I get for falling asleep on the floor, he thought, unable to utter an answer.

Arianna leaned over the boy and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Varian, was this… was this your nightmare ?" she asked gently as she took in the messed up but still recognizable picture of herself.

Varian cringed and tore away from her touch as if it was burning him. The journal fell off his lap as he curled into a ball even more, covering his ears and squeezing his eyes shut.

"No, don't… Please… Stop it, I – I can't…"

I can't talk about it, he tried to say. But the words were stuck in his throat. He knew he was being childish and rude, and above all, he felt powerless against his emotions. He felt like a puppet in their hands, his heart their hostage and his mind trapped in a cell like the one he had been locked in.

Arianna took a step back. Then reconsidered. When words would fail, there was only one way to help, she decided.

She leaned forward and hugged him tightly. Varian didn't pull away this time, breaking down completely. He didn't know why he cried so much, but just like the day before, he knew he just couldn't fight those dark feelings anymore.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was dawn for the townspeople too. The first rays of the sun were shining on the plaza where many people, old and young, were already gathering and chatting loudly.

"Two days ? She needs so many of them and she gives us two days ?"

"Yes, you heard right ! She said that she would pay handsomely, though !"

"It doesn't really matter how they look like, she said, as long as we get them delivered by tomorrow afternoon !"

"She told my husband they would help the young alchemist."

"What does she means by that ?"

"Why would she try to help him ?"

"No idea, but we should trust her."

"He's just a boy after all."

"We should get started. Everybody come to my shop to get the material you need !"

"Can I make one too ?"

"And me ?"

"I can help !"

"We will also need all the ovens we can use !"

"We can do this !"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Later in the morning, while the Queen was getting dressed in her apartments, Phil came in, bringing a tray for Varian's breakfast. He was followed by Alden, the older guard he used to team up with, when he was in charge of the dungeon.

At Varian's questioning look, Phil explained :

"Hans has been reassigned. After you ran away, the King demanded some explanations. I simply told him the truth, even though Hans' eyes looked like they were going to shoot daggers at me !", he joked as he put the tray on the table.

"Oh… oh, wow, that's…. great news. Although, I… well I wouldn't want you to be in trouble with Hans because… of me", stuttered Varian, who was blushing slightly at the memory of his anger fit in the hallway the day before.

"Hey, it's alright", the young guard replied in a gentle voice. "I should have done this long ago anyway. The guy has been digging up trouble from the start. If he's not happy now, that's his problem. And I'm glad he's out of your way now."

"Oh… well… thanks...", he managed to say, even if he looked away shyly. "What is his new assignment, then ?", asked Varian, back to his curious self.

"He was sent to clean the stables, as far as I know", answered Alden with a smirk of satisfaction on his face. "And for what it's worth, I want you to know that as guards, we may be here to keep an eye on you, but we'll also make sure that you are okay and treated well."

The concern their voices warmed up Varian's heart. He didn't know Alden at all so to speak, and Phil –well, Varian hardly spoke to him before, but he felt he could trust them – well, almost, because it was still a challenge for him to trust any adult - and that felt good.

The truth was that Phil had genuinely come to care for the boy. In a very short amount of time, he had witnessed his rage fits and bitter words but also his mutism and breakdowns at times. It was easy to guess that the so-called traitor to the Crown was just a very, very tormented kid.

Unbeknownst of Varian, the young guard also bore a stomach-wrenching feeling of guilt. The boy didn't know that Phil was the one who inadvertently let Nigel into his cell, but Phil could not forget.

Pushing that thought at the back of his mind, Phil turned his attention to Varian again. The Queen had rightfully guessed that Varian went to sleep with an empty stomach the night before, and her orders were crystal clear : the boy wasn't to step out of his room until he had a proper breakfast.