Author's Note: I do not own any of the characters/locations mentioned; that honor goes to Level 5, Studio Ghibli and Bandai. Just putting that out there in case anybody is hunting the site for copyright infringements...
I felt like this conversation needed to happen between young Marcassin and older Gascon (a.k.a. Swaine). Once he knows just what his little brother goes through while he was gone all those years, he would certainly feel so much guilt. Despite what Esther thinks(!), he's not going to run away from this, not where his little brother is concerned. He just has to sort out his own feelings (see Sketch 4) before sorting out his relationship with Marcassin. The idea for Marcassin playing with the Rogue's Revolver to cheer himself up came from a fan art comic I saw on Pinterest and it just seemed like a cute thing for them to do. (WARNING: SPOILERS)
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Sketch 5: Between Brothers
Young Marcassin was wandering aimlessly through the courtyard of the palace, eyes glazed over. The seven-year-old prince was in limbo until his father's funeral the next day. After that, it would become a whirlwind of new duties as the next ruler of Hamelin, as well as intense training to earn the title of sage.
The day prior, he had spent with Oliver, Esther, and Drippy. Though he had not known them until two days ago, they had been with him when he had witnessed his father's passing and comforted him as well as they could. Esther would sing and play her harp to calm him down, Oliver would tell stories of his travels as a wizard and share spells to occupy him, and Drippy was apparently quite the comedian among the fairies, earning a few half-hearted smiles from the boy with his antics.
Yesterday was gone, tomorrow loomed ahead. That only left today. Today never seemed to pass.
Feeling a dull pain spread across his chest, he ceased his pacing and sat on one of the stone benches in the courtyard. He had asked to be alone, but in truth he didn't want to be alone at all. More than anything, he wished for Gascon, his beloved brother, to come back. Esther had quickly volunteered to hunt him down and tell him what had happened, but Marcassin had refused. He knew that Gascon needed to figure things out for himself, and believed it would be selfish to ask him to return just because he couldn't handle things. No, he had wanted to be strong for his brother so he could accomplish his goal. Being strong was so hard...
Before he knew it, he was sniffling. He had never known his mother, who had died giving birth to him. His stern yet well-meaning father was always busy ruling a kingdom and offering guidance as a Great Sage; now he was dead. Growing up in the palace, he had had no real friends to speak of. Gascon was really the only one he could turn to throughout his childhood, and Marcassin looked up to him as if he could do no wrong. Even though he could be a pushy at times, he never doubted that his brother was looking out for him and cared for him deeply. Now he was miles away. The only ones with him now were Oliver, Esther, and Drippy, and they would be leaving soon too, as they belonged in a future time.
The loneliness was about to crush the young boy when something whirred through the air past his head. It came to rest in the branches of an apple tree, revealing itself as a grappling hook attached to a cord. Marcassin gave an involuntary gasp and jumped to his feet, roughly rubbing the moisture from his eyes. "Huh?"
"Impressive, isn't it?" a cool voice stated from behind him. The prince whirled around to see Swaine, the man who was accompanying Oliver and his friends. This was a complete surprise; he had disappeared ever since they had discovered the dying emperor. Oliver and Esther had mentioned their worry for their friend many times when they thought he wasn't listening. Why was he here? And…
"That thing you have...it looks like..." Marcassin stammered.
With the flick of a wrist, Swaine recalled the wires on his Rogue's Revolver, which returned to him bearing a ripe apple. "The gun your brother had, right?" The boy nodded, still speechless with shock. He knew the man had been using a firearm similar to Gascon, but something was different about this one...
Swaine read his expression. "You're right. It isn't quite the same. Here, let me show you." He took a seat on the bench and patted the space next to him. Marcassin sat, curiosity getting the best of him. Removing the apple from the grappling hook, the man shined it on his worn coat and presented it to the prince. Wide-eyed, he took it. The boy wouldn't admit it, but he had been too dismayed to eat much of anything in the last few days...
"Do you remember when Gascon handed me those plans of his for an upgraded revolver back on the Tombstone Trail?" Swaine asked. Marcassin nodded silently, taking a bite of the apple. "I've been working on creating a working model, and I do believe I have done a passable job." He then pointed out the pieces he had added, and explained how they improved the function of the thing.
Finally, Marcassin shyly admitted "I...don't really understand machines, or tools, or all the little parts. Gascon talked about it all the time, and he was so excited that I just liked to listen and watch the way his face lit up..."
Swaine blinked. Did he really used to do that? Uhhh, new topic… "You know, I would never tell him this to his face lest it all go to his already swollen head, but those blueprints...they were actually pretty decent for a kid. I was able to follow them no problem, and didn't even need to make any revisions." When the words came from his mouth, he suddenly realized the gravity of what he had so flippantly said: he had finally admitted that he was good at something and meant it! Even as a boy, his "swollen head" had been nothing but an act to mask his insecurities… He coughed, choking on that realization.
"My brother is amazing!" Marcassin beamed, ignoring his reaction. "He can build all kinds of things! My favorite was when he designed this tank in the form of a pig..."
At the mention of this, something clicked in Swaine's head. That pig tank they had battled back in their time...that was based on the model he had designed as a kid! It never occurred to him that such a thing was possible, especially not while they were fighting for their lives, but Marcassin must have actually had someone use those blueprints of his and create a full-scale model! Were they really that good?
Marcassin did not seem to notice his pause. "Gascon could never use magic even though he wanted to so badly." His face became downcast. "I don't know why he couldn't just stay and build more things. That was like his own kind of magic…"
Swine was at a loss this time. "I...don't think he ever realized he had that much talent. At least, it wasn't the talent he was supposed to have…"
Now, Marcassin was confused. "Why do you say that?"
Swaine was stumped. How to answer this one without giving anything more away? "Let's just say...I know a lot about your brother. You know, from our time in the future."
"You know my brother from the future!?" Marcassin perked up instantly, eyes glowing bright. "Tell me, what is he like?"
The next words would have to be chosen very carefully. "He...has traveled the world and seen a lot of things. He worries all the time that he made a big mistake when he left you alone. He was gone for a very long time, and...he should have come back sooner." His eyes closed, feeling the all-too-familiar pangs of guilt gnaw at his stomach.
Marcassin seemed troubled to hear this. "But I don't want him to feel sad! He came home like he promised, even if it took a long time. Things were probably really hard for him."
Really? For Marcassin, was it truly that simple? It couldn't be. He had to know. The question had been eating at him for the last two days. "So, Marcassin...are you...mad at Gascon? You know, for not being around right now when you need him the most?" Swaine ventured, staring at the dirt.
Despite the intense desire he had been feeling to be with his brother not minutes before, the boy shook his head wildly without a second thought. "No way! I mean, I miss him so much, but he wasn't happy. Leaving was the only way he could find out what he should do. And I think..." he took a deep breath, "he was always so worried about making sure I was able to succeed that he never took time to focus on himself. That's why he needed to get away for a while." There was silence, then Swaine gave a slow chuckle. "What is it? Marcassin demanded.
He looked up with a small smile, his tired eyes filled with warmth. "You know, he was always so worried that he was getting in your way; he never would have imagined that you felt like the one in HIS way!"
Marcassin pouted. "It's not funny, it's true!"
Swaine got up and looked down, laying a hand on the young prince's shoulder. "I guess you're right. At any rate, you'll have to keep being strong for him. It's a lot to ask, but Gascon clearly put his faith in you." He shook his head smiling. "Now, I wonder…are you as good with a gun as you are with your spells?" He raised an eyebrow and held out the Rogue's Revolver.
The prince jumped to his feet. "I don't know. Gascon let me do a lot of things, but he never let me touch his gun, so I don't know how to shoot…"
"Heh, it's easy. Here, take it." Marcassin took the weapon with a sort of awed reverence. "I'll show you how it's done."
Before he could go on, Marcassin interrupted, tugging at his sleeve. "Mister Swaine? I don't know what I'm doing in the future, but I really don't want my brother to be worried like that. Will you please tell him that it wasn't a bad thing to leave? Even if it takes him a lifetime to find his answer, I don't mind, really. It was important to him." The boy's eyes shone with concern.
The man could only shake his head again, the guilt washing away. "I promise you, Your Highness, I will let him know. It will certainly make him feel much better. Now, are you ready to try shooting this thing?" Marcassin, feeling reassured, nodded emphatically. "Good, now first…"
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"Look, I know it is horrible that his dad died right there in front of him, but this whole running off and hiding for two days now…it's just not something a grown man does!" Esther exclaimed in frustration, scowling and kicking at the path as they walked around outside the palace.
"Esther, don't be so hard on him! I know what it is like, and it is the worst…" Oliver defended, following alongside her. "You really don't want to talk to anybody…"
Esther sighed. "That's just it. He may be feeling horrible, but what about his little brother? Gascon from this time is out there somewhere and Marcassinw on't let us find him, but the one from the future is right here. Somewhere. Doesn't he feel any kind of responsibility?"
"Aye, I agree with her on this one Ollie-boy. Even if he won't let on about being his brother, you'd think he could at least comfort the poor Prince. We can only do so much!" Drippy bounced along, bobbing his head in agreement.
Oliver looked down, somber. "I bet he just doesn't know what to do or say, especially if he doesn't want to give his secret away."
"That's another thing I don't get. Why is it such a big deal that no one know who he is? Wouldn't it have been much easier back in our Hamelin to tell us he was from Hog Heaven instead of being all secretive-like? Or that he could get us to the Great Sage Marcassin because they were family and all? And for crying out loud, why keep avoiding it now that we all know?"
"Maybe it was embarrassing to have fallen so low that he didn't want us to know how high up he was once." Esther mused. "He might not want Marcassin to see what became of his Gascon."
"Well, whatever his reasons are, we shouldn't judge him. We don't…"
"Shhhh!" Drippy whispered suddenly, motioning madly for them to quiet down. Oliver stopped in mid-sentence, and listening carefully, they could hear the sounds of giggling coming from the courtyard.
"Is that…Marcassin?"
"Jeepers, it kinda sounds like him. What's going on?"
"I don't know about you two but I'm going in for a closer look!" the fairy declared, inching his way to the corner of the building. One by one they peered around for a look, and what they saw almost made Esther and Drippy gasp. Oliver just looked on contentedly as if he had expected it all along.
There was the young prince, revolver in hand, squinting and trying to take aim at an apple in a nearby tree. Swaine was right beside him, trying to steady the boy's arms. "You've got your mark?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Close one eye. That helps." The student obeyed, inadvertently sticking his tongue out and causing the man to laugh. This threw him off, and he accidently fired without lining up the shot. The recoil sent him flailing backwards, but the man caught him and set him back square on his feet. They looked at each other, then at the tree where the grappling hook was wrapped around some branches, and finally they both began to laugh. "What's the matter, I know you could easily hit that target with a fireball!"
"I don't weigh enough!"
"No excuses, Your Highness! You just have to anticipate the recoil. Let's try that again." The prince nodded happily, his cares gone at least for that moment. Time had finally resumed for him.
The trio of observers cautiously pulled back around the corner and slid away some distance. "Should we go over there?" Esther asked.
"Nah, mun. That would just ruin the moment. Best to pretend we saw nothing."
"I don't want to forget seeing that, though," Esther argued, slowly smiling. "It's nice to see him being useful for a change."
"We shouldn't bring it up," Oliver stated simply. "He doesn't want us to see him as Gascon. This is him being Gascon. It is something just between brothers, not for us."
They couldn't argue with that logic, so feeling a bit better about both of the princes of Hamelin, they crept in the opposite direction.
