"Varian!"

Arianna heard Quirin's shouts as he waded through mountains of rubble and debris.

"Varian!"

The castle lay in ruins - destruction as far as the eye reached. Walls torn, foundations lifted, the courtyard a wreck. In the aftershock of the demon's reign, her bones still rattled. The battle was won, tho the chaos remained. So much had happened. It seemed impossible to wrap one's mind around.

"Varian!" Old Coronas leader found what he'd been looking for. "Are you okay?" Crouching down, Quirin put his hands on the boy's shoulders. His eyes skimmed over his slim frame, searching for any signs of harm.

The child nodded and as he came to the same conclusion Quirin allowed himself to breathe again.

"Dad, I am sorry." Almost losing what's most important to you for the second time in one day put things quite into perspective. "I…," struggling painfully, Varian's voice broke.

Quirin couldn't bear seeing him like this. "I am proud of you," the warrior repeated helplessly. He felt like saying the words too much, felt like he could never say them enough.

Varian laughed at the taunt. It sounded like nails against concrete. Apparently, he couldn't do wrong in his father's eyes. But he remembered, remembered the cracks of electricity, the anguish of convulsing muscles - of spasming limbs. And most of all the look of utter betrayal on his dad's face. He did this. He had to.

Varian stepped back and Quirin's arms fell useless to either side, the tension around them palpable. With full force, the silence returned louder than ever before.

Arianna's heart flew out to them but she couldn't dwell. Later, she promised, later there would be time. She wouldn't allow it to fester, had seen where it could lead to, though first, she had to make sure her own daughter was safe.

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Cold light filled his eyes. The world was tinged in shades of blue, his limbs bound by an invisible puppeteer as thin strings wrapped around him, cutting his soulless flesh wide open. He was hers, her executioner, her sword and shield. Her word was his command, her will absolute, her claim as firm as steel.

"For Cassandra!" The sounds of battle roared.

Shouts and cries mixed with the howls of pain in an endless circle of slaughter. His trembling fingers clutched around the hilt of his sword. He couldn't stop. Each slash silenced the voices around him while the coppery sweet scent of blood got stronger. Much stronger. Bodies piled on the ground, guts spilled and crimson rain drummed onto his armor to the familiar beat of the townsfolk drenching royal tiles red. A tale as old as time.

The massacre continued. He took a step and then another. His blade dragged over the floor, leaving a wet trail behind. Slowly he marched toward his next victim.

"Dad?"

No. A stab of fear pierced through him. Nononono! He screamed from within, wanted to call out, to warn him. Please don't!

Varian moved backward and stumbled. Of course, he did.

Standing above him, he tried to fight her. He pushed and shoved, begging for mercy. The soldier raised his weapon. Before the sharp edge of metal could cleave his son in half, long fangs sunk past his breastplate and beneath his ribs. Gratitude filled him as the furry mass tackled him to the ground, protecting his greatest treasure. He almost wished the creature had ripped him apart so that this nightmare could end.

"Ruddiger wait!"

The beast halted while his own body continued to move without permission. Facing its fate, he charged, his sword thrust into its throat. A screech echoed through the throne room only to be replaced by a sickening gurgle. He twisted the hilt deeper before yanking it up and out. A fountain of red splashed over him. It was warm, almost like taking a shower. Coated in blood and breathing heavily, he bathed in his victory.

"Rud… Ruddiger!"

The child took a shaky step in the direction of its fallen friend. Tears streamed down his face.

"No, please…," Varian's voice gave out. He buried himself into the blood-stained coat, desperately trying to keep the fluid where it belonged. Too late. The messy hole in the center of its throat was inconsolable.

Old Corona's leader stalked towards the weeping boy.

"Dad?" Varian turned his head. He looked up at him, so lost, so confused, asking his father for help when nothing would make sense.

Panic spread through his veins. Run! His lips didn't move. Once more he lifted his blade. With all his strength he rebelled, tearing at the cursed wall that separated body from mind. He would not let him die. The soldier froze and for a second there was hope. He'd do everything in his power to prevent the unpreventable. Then he stroke down.

Varian screamed. Blood oozed out of his chest. In a sick twist, he got his wish. He was alive, still breathing. Barely breathing. He watched his son fight for his life, crawling away on all fours, eyes filled with absolute terror. He closed the distance between them. The damp wetness of his own tears leaked over his cheeks as he knelt next to him. His body wouldn't listen.

They locked eyes and realized both what was about to come. He raised his sword a third time, the hilt slippery from all the blood that had been spilled.

"Dad please don't-"

Quirin couldn't feel the warmth of Varian's skin as his gauntlet closed around the delicate neck to keep him in place, couldn't feel his heart slowing against the cold tip of his quivering sword as it pierced through him again and again. What he felt was the all-consuming silence when the light left Varian's eyes.

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Quirin jolted awake.

He was alone. There was no blood, no screams, no voices battling in his head, yet he couldn't breathe. His lungs were on fire and his ears were ringing. He was sure his chest would burst at any second. Cold sweat clung to him, tainting his sheets with the stench of fear. His heart was pumping like he'd run a marathon or - Quirin felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't shake the horror of the images flooding his brain. The walls closed in, and his bedroom turned impossible narrow. No. It was nothing but a dream - a nightmare. It wasn't real. There was the ceiling above him and a bed below. He could see the stars through the open window as well as a nightlight sitting beside him. The dim glow of the orb containing swirls of pink and purple chemicals sprinkled with shimmering green flakes fought against the darkness. It made no difference…

Truth to be told he hadn't known how he felt about Varian's actions, about him being electrocuted by his own child. The memory of white pain dipping his world into black was still fresh. The ruthlessness and ease with which Varian discarded everything he loved, the willingness to break himself, the length he would go to - what he was ready to sacrifice, it scared him. There were no regrets, no regards. Quirin hadn't known how he felt about it all. Now he does. He was glad Varian did what he did. He might question Varian's choices, but he was more afraid of what he himself could have done. Not to think what would have happened if - He shook his head and got up.

The stairs creaked on his way down to the kitchen, its pitiful whimpers disturbing the early hours of a new dawn. He frowned. The lights were on.

Varian sat in the corner of the couch, knees tugged under his chin and Ruddiger nowhere to be seen. Dark bags grew beneath his eyes while he watched the shadows dance.

The boy looked up. For a moment Quirin's gaze met Varian's before it traveled over his son's pale skin, straying to his delicate neck. His guts clenched. He almost feared to find bruises matching the shape of his fingers. The old soldier averted his eyes. He said nothing as he walked past him and Varian hugged himself tighter.

With a glass of water in hand Quirin left, drowning them further in loneliness.

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Varian couldn't stop fidgeting. It was stupid. He wasn't in any danger, he knew that. Still, to be in the castle made him uncomfortable. Most of the time he'd managed fine - could ignore what lay beneath, ignore the shame and despair, or how painfully familiar the passing corridors felt under his feet. Some days were easier than others. Today wasn't a good day, but by far not the worst. It didn't matter, not as if he was able to refuse the queen's request. He hadn't liked the way her message sounded - short and clipped and strangely formal. His guts twisted and turned. Everything inside him screamed trap.

"Hey, Buddy!"

He froze as a dreadful red entered his vision. A large hand reached for him, grabbed his shoulder from above, and dragged him back. Breathe. He needed a moment to figure out what was happening. "Eu-Eugene," the boy stammered, trying to escape his friend's enthusiastic hug.

The older man flashed him a toothy grin, squeezing him extra affectionate before reluctantly releasing the young alchemist.

"What are you doing here?" Varian asked flustered as he adjusted his clothes.

Eugene laughed at the teen's skittish attitude and sheepishly waved at Old Coronas leader in greeting. "The queen wanted to see me," he shrugged. "Probably to hand out some medals."

"Not so sure about that," the alchemist muttered. He had his own suspicions about the nature of their visit.

A door opened and a guard appeared in front of them. Varian's throat went dry.

"Captain," the man gave a quick nod towards his superior. "Her highness is expecting you," he addressed all of them.

He led them into a large room. A courtroom, it shot through Varian's head. It was the first time he had seen one from within. Instinctively the child straightened. Don't show them. He steeled himself, yet all he wanted was to run. Arianna waited on the other side and he forced his legs to move. His saving grace was that there was no trace of the king, otherwise, he wouldn't have guaranteed anything.

The three bowed before the queen, her face unusually stern. Behind the cover of courtesy and manners lurked tension.

"Step forward," she ordered not unkind, but in a stiff tone, she sometimes had during official events. "Do you know why you are here?"

Eugene opened his mouth only to get interrupted by the young alchemist next to him.

"We are in trouble, aren't we?"

Arianna was not amused.

Varian sighed tiredly. "Because I electrocuted my father." The words struck.

"Yikes. If you put it that way," Eugene mumbled. The dark prince's eyes darted between the two of them. He suppressed a shiver. Neither seemed particularly pleased with the other. The declaration of war that graced Arianna's face could have been easily mistaken for a smile, while he feared Varian's temper whenever more sensible matters were approached. Eugene bit his lips and rubbed nervously over his upper arm. They needed a miracle.

The queen raised her chin. "Yes," she replied. With Varian, it was never about the whys and always about the hows.

Arianna brought a shabby black journal to light and the boy's jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding? We're doing that again?" He asked indignantly and glared at her. She couldn't be serious, after all he went through, after all he'd done for them. Varian clenched his fists.

The queen didn't fall for the bait and simply held the dreadful-looking thing out to him. He needed to understand. The boy had a special place in her heart, one more reason not to back down. Her mind was set.

"What's going on?" Eugene whispered behind his back, but Quirin seemed as confused as he was.

Varian rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever." It wouldn't change a thing.

The mood shifted as he stepped up and snatched the cursed item right out of her hand.

The queen's shoulders relaxed. With a triumphant little smirk, Arianna returned the book to its previous owner, feeling all in all rather smug. "You got," she continued lightheartedly and sized up Eugene. "20 minutes."

Varian groaned.

"You're smart, you'll figure it out." And with that, she pointed towards another door attached to the courtroom.

Muttering on about social injustice, a wrecked system, and royalty abusing their power Varian marched on to sulk.

"Now to you. What were you thinking Eugene, telling him - "

He closed the door behind him and was suddenly alone with his thoughts. It was the logical conclusion. He had to do it. Still, why did it feel so wrong?

Urgh. Varian slumped down on a chair near a small study desk. It was stacked with various documents recording all kinds of trivial disputes. Listless he tossed the journal onto the pile. The force he'd used caused a small commotion between an ink flask and some scrolls that resulted in most of the papers finding a new home on the floor. Great. Another mess to clean up. He didn't move, couldn't bring himself to get up. It was none of her business.

For a while, he just sat there doing nothing, but his gaze kept straying over the battered leather binding. His fingers itched. There was no other way, was there? What else could he have done? Was there something he wasn't seeing? The alchemist frowned. What was he missing?

Before he knew he flipped the journal open. Carefully he traced the inscription engraved in the lower corner and chuckled. He rubbed his forehead and directed his attention towards the first page. Well, not the first-first page. He'd torn that out ages ago, as well as the second and third. The fourth tho' stood strong, yet only he knew what was hidden under all the crossed-out lines. It was probably for the best. A mishmash of disoriented thoughts followed, poorly captured on ripped and wavy sheets. He skimmed through them without reading. For a moment he faltered when his eyes caught on reddish-brown pawprints but they were gone before he had a chance to fully process. Roughly at the middle of the journal he paused. Would it really make a difference? He squared his shoulder and started to write on the murky gray paper.

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The door creaked open and the room went quiet.

"You're done?" Arianna asked as Varian re-entered.

"Yeah," he answered reluctantly. He seemed exhausted, his gaze fixed on the ground. "Perhaps there were other options I could have explored first before I, well, you know," he continued unprompted. For a split second his eyes met those of his father before shifting back down.

Arianna smiled proudly. "Now for your punishment."

"Wait, aren't you supposed to, uhm, share what you wrote?" Eugene intervened.

Arianna and Varian looked at him almost offended.

"Dude, it's a journal, not a dissertation."

Queen Arianna cleared her throat. "So where was I? Ah, Varian," her voice turned strict. "You are hereby banned from any kind of laboratory. You will not set foot into the one at the castle or at home for the next 2 weeks. No scientific literature either."

"But," Varian protested on instinct.

"No buts. Your father will supervise you during this time. If you break the rules another week is going to be added. Am I clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Varian replied meekly. His eyes shifted to the side, though he couldn't help himself. "Albeit, I would rather have Eugene tell me - "

"So do I," the Queen interrupted irritated. "We all would."

Varian grimaced. "Point taken."

"Good." She nodded satisfied. "Dismissed."

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"Hey, Varian wait-up," Eugene called after him. "Do you have a moment?"

Varian tilted his head in confusion. He exchanged a quick glance with his father before nodding uncertainly.

"Sure," he said, which was Quirin's sign to give them some space.

"I am sorry." Eugene burst out without warning.

"What?" Varian blinked.

"When I noticed something might be up with your dad and the mind trap I got scared." Eugene lowered his head. "I didn't want to put another burden on Rapunzel, but that didn't made it right to place it all on you." He ran a hand through his hair. "I am sorry. I pro- It won't happen again," the other half of team awesome finished. "Can you forgive me?"

"I -" Varian didn't know what to say, Eugene's little speech was a bit much, but he knew what was expected. "Yeah, of course."

His friend's eyes lit up and his mouth curled into a genuine smile before giving Varian a warm hug.

"Thanks! I am glad we're good," he beamed.

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"What did Eugene want?" Quirin asked as father and son walked next to each other on their way home.

"Um, he apologized." Varian still felt rather awkward about it all. He wasn't used to it.

Quirin nodded and they fell silent.

"Dad?" Varian stopped.

He wasn't following him any longer so Quirin paused as well. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry I hurt you." Varian looked down. "I -" He drew a stuttering breath."I could have killed you."

Quirin wasn't sure if he was still talking about the same thing. He sighed. Sometimes they were much too similar for their own good. He decided to play it save.

"I am prou-" Screw it. "I wish you would have talked to me," it came out of him. "But I understand why you did it and I am glad you stopped me before I could hurt someone," he hurried to add.

Varian rubbed over his shoulder. He wished that there would have been someone who'd stopped him too, but said nothing.


AN: This plays after 'Plus Est En Vous'. Next: Friendship and Kindness