Unforgivable. You ruined everything. That's all you've ever done, and that's all you'll ever be good for. Your dad was better off in the amber, because at least while he was trapped he didn't have to deal with cleaning up after your messes.
That's all you're good at, isn't it, Buddy? Making a mess of things and hurting those around you. You're a parasite. A leech. Something that takes, and takes, and is incapable of ever returning the favor. People give you chances you don't deserve, and you squander it. You throw it away like the vermin you are.
You're a traitor. To your kingdom. To your family. To the one person who took you under their wing when they could have just left you for dead! And traitors should pay with their lives.
Varian shivered with a whimper as he felt a chill run down his spine. He grabbed the bed covers and pulled them up over his head. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, hoping it would be enough to stop the tired tears so he could go back to sleep. He knew there was no point though. As soon as his thoughts started turning on him, which was frequently, he couldn't relax.
He couldn't sleep, but he couldn't bring himself to face the day either. He wasn't ready to look his mistakes in the eye as he tried, and failed, to fix them.
He wanted to fix the king and queen's memories. It was literally the very least he could do. But his research could only take him so far. Clementine had done most of the work, and Varian didn't understand her magic the way he understood his alchemy. It was like being familiar with how to make beef stew, and then being asked to make a carrot cake. The basics and theories were all the same, but the execution and implementation couldn't possibly be more different.
He wasn't getting any closer to finding a cure, and every time he was faced with a new failure he would feel the guilt for all he'd done return with a vengeance. Varian felt so bad, and though he didn't mean to his guilt and distress would often make him freeze. He would burst into tears, clam up, and be able to do anything except sit there and think of how terrible a person he was.
Varian wanted to fix things, because he felt bad for all he'd done, but his guilt was making it impossible. He didn't appreciate the cruel irony.
He knew he should work on the cure, but he couldn't yet. He couldn't bring himself to move from the false safety of his bed. So despite the guilt he felt, Varian clutched tighter at the blanket and tried to ignore the cold that just wouldn't leave him alone.
Ever since things had started to pick up, when his dad had been freed and dealt with the Saporians, Varian had felt unwell. He didn't understand it. His dad made sure he was eating better, and that he got plenty of sleep. The weather wasn't cold, and even if it was, the castle was isolated enough to keep away the chill. So why was Varian always so cold?
It wasn't a normal chill either. It always seemed isolated to different areas. Up and down his arms, with something like a frozen pressure on his shoulders. Down his back. On the top of his head, which felt like a cold breeze was blowing through, reminding him of the shadow of somebody rustling his hair. But it wasn't comforting or playful. It was threatening and terrifying.
If Varian wasn't so busy trying to find a cure for the king and queen's memory loss, he would investigate what could possibly be going on with him. He wondered if this was a lingering effect of being around the Saporians and their weird magic. As much as he didn't want to believe in the supernatural, maybe it was worth investigating, just to get this cold to go away.
A part of him actually hoped that there was a supernatural explanation, because the only other reason he could think of was that this cold was somehow an effect of his guilt. Because it felt like every single time he felt the cold along his body, the voice in his head that was screaming at him how unforgivable and useless he was, it got stronger.
Then again, the voice was always there, and Varian didn't think it would ever go away. He deserved this guilt though, after everything he'd done wrong. After everybody he had hurt. Varian could bear through the guilt, but he desperately hoped that the cold wouldn't always accompany it.
Varian laid there in bed, just staring numbly at the wall. He felt lonely and empty, and he desperately wished that he had Ruddiger at his side. The racoon had been distant though. Ruddiger was always in eye-sight, but he wouldn't provide cuddles. He just stayed on the other side of the room, giving Varian wary, sad, and angry looks.
Not that Varian blamed him. Ruddiger had supported him for a long time, even when he hadn't approved of his actions. But then everything with the Saporians happened.
Ruddiger had never liked Andrew, and he hadn't been happy when Varian had decided to work with him. Ruddiger's disapproval had been clear, but he was a better friend than Varian was. Ruddiger saw Andrew as a threat, and as long as he thought Varian was in danger, he stayed at his side.
Andrew was gone now though. Varian wasn't in danger, and Ruddiger had no reason to stick around. And now the racoon was giving him space. Varian knew that he still cared, and would hopefully forgive him eventually, otherwise the racoon would have left and moved on with his life already. Varian tried to see Ruddiger's presence as a good sign that there was hope for him, but the distance still hurt.
He felt so alone. His dad tried so hard to keep him company and help him, but one man could only do so much. Quirin was working on repairing the kingdom and assisting the royals. He couldn't stay at Varian's side at all times, and Varian couldn't ask him to give up more than he already had.
A part of him, the part that was so desperate for someone, anyone, to hold him close and tell him that he was going to be okay, wished that Andrew was still here.
He knew he shouldn't. Andrew hadn't truly been his friend. He'd manipulated Varian, lording his guilt and loneliness over him. He'd played Varian, and the boy felt sick at just how easily he had let it happen. Andrew really hadn't had to do much. He listened to Varian rant, took a beating from the guards for him, and comforted him after a really bad nightmare. That was all it had taken for Varian to become putty in his hands.
He'd known, deep down, that Andrew hadn't ever been kind. He'd known that Andrew was just acting nice because he knew that he could get Varian to do something for him in return. That was all that anybody seemed to do. Everybody just wanted things from him. But Varian still fell for it, and it wasn't just because he was lonely, desperate, and scared.
A part of him had thought that he could actually trust Andrew. He'd thought that even if Andrew was using him, they could still be friends. And he'd made this foolish mistake just because the man hadn't demanded something from Varian, with the false promise of returning the favor in the future. Andrew had done something for him first. He'd made good on his end before they'd even made a deal.
In Varian's eyes, that had put Andrew above Rapunzel, and Cassandra, and every other Coronan who wanted him around when he could be useful to them, and threw him aside the second he became an inconvenience.
In some ways, Andrew was still better than the princess, and Varian felt guilty for thinking such a thing, and he felt frustrated for feeling guilty.
Just because Andrew had been better than Rapunzel didn't mean he'd been good for Varian. In some ways, he'd been far worse, because his manipulation had been on purpose, while Rapunzel's had just been out of willful ignorance. Varian still didn't forgive Rapunzel for what she had done to him, but he didn't forgive himself for all he'd done to her and her family either, so he supposed that made them even.
Though Varian tried to ignore it, he also felt bad for what he had done to Andrew. He hadn't hurt the man directly, but no matter what his dad said, he knew it was all his fault.
He'd shown weakness and vulnerability. He'd been having a really bad day when his dad had shown up, wondering what was going on. He'd been so relieved to see his dad that any amount of his composure had melted away.
He broke down, right there in the throne room for his dad, the king and queen, and the Saporians to see. He'd just started crying like a child, clinging to his dad like a lifeline, using all of his remaining energy to scream apologies and confessions.
Varian knew that Andrew had said something, but he didn't know what. He'd been so lost in his own head at the time that he hadn't caught it, but Quirin heard it just fine, and he hadn't liked it at all. Something had shifted in that moment. One minute Varian's dad had just been offering him comfort, and the next he was grabbing a sword from one of the guards and stabbing Andrew through the chest with it
Varian hadn't killed Andrew, but the Saporian's death was still his fault. If he just hadn't freaked out and lost all control, his dad wouldn't have had to hurt Andrew. Now the only person that he could have ever called a friend was gone, and it was all his fault. No matter what his dad said, no matter how much Varian knew that Andrew was a bad person, he felt bad, and it felt like it was killing him.
Varian felt a pressure like a cold shock on his arm. He shuddered and whimpered. It was like the echo of Andrew grabbing his arm, pulling him around, yelling at him for making stupid, foolish mistakes when he really should have known better.
Maybe the cold really was just in his head, and was just another manifestation of his guilt.
Varian didn't know how long he laid there, but eventually he started to feel his anxiety dim to a manageable numbness. His dad always seemed worried about his apathy, but Varian preferred this to the intense emotions he felt the rest of the time. He slowly sat up, only to jolt anxiously when he heard a thudding outside the door. Someone was there.
"D-dad?" Varian clutched tightly at the blankets. He felt like he couldn't breathe. "Dad!" Quirin slept in the same room as him. It was something he would have been humiliated about a few years ago, but now he was desperate for his dad's company. Neither of them were willing to be too far from the other.
Quirin had always been a light sleeper. He sat up and immediately reached for the sword he now kept at his side. Varian was still getting used to seeing the signs that his dad was once a knight.
"What's wrong?" Quirin asked just as there was another sound from outside. His eyes narrowed dangerously. He gestured for Varian to stay put as he stepped towards the door. "Who's there?"
There was a growl in response, and Varian was just confused. It sounded like an animal, but what could a wild animal be doing in the castle? Quirin's eyes narrowed, though he looked as confused as Varian felt.
Quirin grabbed the door and threw it open, his sword at the ready for an attack. The second that the door was cracked open it was thrown back the rest of the way. Quirin tightened his grip on his sword, but he froze when a strange beast pounced right through the door, with another creature stepping in just behind it.
Varian yelped in alarm and curled up as tight against the bed as he could. He expected his dad to strike the creatures down, or at least subdue them, but he didn't move. Quirin just stared at the creatures with wide-eyed disbelief.
"It…it can't be." Quirin said. He knelt, bringing himself closer to the creatures. He lowered his sword. "What are you two doing here?"
"D-dad, what's going on?" Varian asked. "What are you doing?"
"I know these bearcats." Quirin said. He reached a hand out towards the strangely large bearcats. One of them whined and leaned against his hand, nudging him affectionately. The other bearcat looked past Quirin, staring at Varian. He really didn't like the look in its eyes.
"Uh, Dad?" Varian cringed back as the bearcat stalked towards him. It was growling threateningly. Varian was so scared that he only vaguely noticed that the bearcat wasn't looking right at him, but past him. "Dad, what's it doing?"
Quirin frowned and walked up to the bearcat. He grabbed it by the scruff and pulled it back, despite its size. "What are you doing? He's not a threat. It's just my son."
The two bearcats looked at each other, growling and hissing to each other, communicating. Ruddiger got up from his dad's bed, stretching and yawning. He looked alarmed about the bearcats, but when he hissed at them in warning and they growled at him in return, he calmed down immediately.
Varian relaxed slightly. Ruddiger had made it clear that he wouldn't let someone hurt him. If he didn't see these bearcats as a threat, and his dad knew them, then maybe they weren't so bad, even if they were incredibly frightening.
Varian was so relieved that Ruddiger didn't see them as a threat that it took him a long moment to realize that something was wrong. Ruddiger was chattering to the bearcats. They growled in return. All three of them would frequently turn to look at Varian, anger and fear in their eyes. Not for the first time Varian wished he could understand animals. He had a bad feeling about what was going on.
Eventually the bearcats stopped focusing so much on Varian. They reluctantly turned their attention away from him. They instead turned back to Quirin. They bit at the legs of his pants and tried to pull him towards the door. Ruddiger ran towards Varian, faltering slightly, his fur bristling anxiously. Varian was worried. He'd thought that the racoon had avoided him because he was mad, but he looked so scared now. Ruddiger wasn't possibly afraid of him, was he?
Ruddiger took a deep breath and crept towards Varian. For the first time in weeks, he made physical contact with the boy. Varian hardly breathed as he stared at his friend. Ruddiger nuzzled against Varian's leg and then grabbed his foot, pulling it. He didn't need to talk to animals to know what these three wanted.
"They want us to follow them." Varian said. He got to his feet. "Do you trust the bearcats?"
"With my life." Quirin said. He bent down and pet them. "They belong to my brother." Before, Varian hadn't even known that his dad had family besides him. Since reuniting, Quirin had been telling him stories about his past. It was still hard to comprehend.
"Hector or Edmund?" Varian asked. From what his dad had said, both of his brothers had animal companions that rarely left his side.
"Hector." Quirin smiled, though his fond expression immediately dimmed. "I've never seen them stray from his side."
"Maybe they want to take us to him." Varian suggested.
"But what are they doing so far from the Great Tree?" Quirin muttered to himself. He looked at the bearcats. "Is Hector close?" Varian could hear the disbelief in his dad's tone even as he asked the question, so it was a shock to both of them when the bearcats nodded and increased their fervor to lead them away.
"Alright, alright, we're coming." Quirin said. He looked at Varian. "Are you ready to meet your uncle?"
Varian had been ready the second he heard that he even had an uncle. Despite this, he felt that familiar cold pressure on his shoulder, and it almost felt like it was pulling him back. The doubt and guilt returned, harsh as ever.
Are you really so eager to trick somebody else into caring about you? Even though you know you're just going to doom them for disappointment and pain? That's all that happens to people who get close to you.
Ruddiger hissed and gently bit Varian, not enough to hurt him, but enough to bring him back to himself and stop himself from spiraling into his guilt. Varian shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm ready." The bearcats gave him a concerned look, but they focused on the task at hand, leading them out of the room.
Varian bent down to pick up Ruddiger, hoping that the racoon would be okay with him now. Ruddiger flinched, and Varian pulled back like he'd been burned. He felt a pang of hurt in his chest and tears gathered in his eyes. He knew that something serious was bothering Ruddiger, and he was concerned by his friend, but that didn't make the aversion and isolation hurt any less.
Ruddiger whined and gave him an apologetic look. Varian gave Ruddiger a shaky smile and shook his head. "It's okay, B-Buddy." Just saying the word that Andrew would refer to him as made Varian feel like he was going to be sick. "I swear, it's okay."
Ruddiger gave him one more sorry look before he followed the bearcats. Varian took in a shuddered breath and went after them. Quirin put his arm over Varian's shoulder and pulled him close.
"He'll come around." Quirin said, not for the first time. Varian leaned against his dad. Neither of them were used to showing this kind of affection to each other, but it felt so natural. "It'll be okay."
"I just wish I knew what was wrong." Varian said. If this was just hurt feelings, then he wanted to know so he could try to make things right. If there was truly more to it, something more serious and concerning, then he needed to know before it became a real problem.
Quirin hummed slightly. "You know, Hector is good at understanding animals. He might be able to figure out what's going on."
Varian gave a weak laugh. "Then I'm definitely excited to meet my uncle." He knew his dad was confused and concerned about what his brother was doing near Corona, but Varian was just excited and relieved. He was scared of letting more people down, and being let down in return, but in Varian's experience the only people he could count on was his family.
His dad had come back to him, and was helping him, despite all the mistakes he'd made. If his siblings were anything like that, then Varian could have more people on his side. People that he could actually trust.
Maybe it was foolish to trust someone he'd never met before, but Varian still had hope. There wasn't a lot, but it was enough. It had to be enough.