I'M BAAAACK!

I cannot thank you enough for your patience. This last… however long it's been has been a bit of a whirlwind, but I found myself looking forward to posting this story more and more every day. I've got a few chapters pre-written, so we'll see if I can keep a consistent posting schedule! (Probably not).

Also! I've added an extra scene to Blood of my Brother chapter 34. I wanted to have the conversation take place before they left the Dark Kingdom.

And for this chapter, trigger warnings: LOTS of arguing, references to cults and cultish behavior, an obscene amount of dialogue (sorry in advance). Special thanks to Wingding for beta reading this for me!

Until now, Varian had never wondered whether or not he could reach high enough to strangle Quirin.

It had never particularly been an issue, even when they disagreed. Usually Quirin gave him some logical explanation for why Varian wasn't allowed to do this or go there, and that was that. When he didn't, Varian just did as he was told anyway. Until the incident with the rocks, but he'd learned his lesson from that.

Now, though, Varian eyeballed Quirin's broad shoulders, head tilted as he contemplated the angle he'd need to leap in order to utilize said shoulders as a ladder.

It had started innocently enough: a discussion about a map.

Earlier

Metal rang against metal, the clashes punctuated by heavy breaths and feet skidding across dirt. Sweat-drenched and exhausted, he lifted his sword to meet the next attack. His muscles screamed at the exertion, threatening to give underneath the pressure of his opponent's blade. The tang of salt stung his tongue, and he spat to the side before bringing his sword in a wide arc towards his foe's legs.

He'd expected her to jump. He didn't expect her to step on his blade.

He hit the ground with a groan, fingers still clenched tightly around the hilt. Adira grinned down at him smugly. "You lasted longer than I thought you would. Go take a break and get some water. Then do some cool-down stretches." Moving off his sword, she rejoined Hector, who was poring over a map and mumbling to himself. He shoved it towards her as she sat next to him.

Varian shoved himself up, wiping sweat from his eyes. In the heat of mid-summer, he'd had to resign himself to removing his ever-present cloak, and his sleeveless tunic made the weather somewhat more tolerable, but the difference between the mountain chill of the Dark Kingdom and the coastal atmosphere of the areas surrounding Corona made the sudden trip back to his first home more challenging. Even more so because of the rigorous training he endured at the hands of his aunt and uncle, who seemed not a bit affected by the heat. Adira still wore her thick coat, and Hector his long cloak with its fur-lined hood.

He grabbed a canteen and settled against a rock, pouring a bit of the water on his head before he nearly inhaled the rest. Ruddiger hopped up onto the rock behind him, holding out an apple. Varian grinned and shook his head, stretching his weary arms out in front of him and rolling his shoulders forward.

Hector glanced over at him. "You did good," he called. "Watch your stance so you don't lose your balance."

Quirin strode out of the cabin, bags slung over his shoulder. When he saw Varian, his eyebrows knit in that sort of concerned-frustrated mixture that Varian had gotten used to seeing over the course of his short life. But what for this time? He was just sitting here, for crying out loud! Quirin had looked at him like that several times over the last few days they'd been holed up in the cabin. Now that Quirin's strength was beginning to return, they could finally move on, and maybe he would stop staring at Varian like he'd fall apart at a gentle breeze.

Quirin set the bags down and knelt next to Varian. "How are you, son?"

"Fine." Varian pushed his bangs out of his face. "Just sparred against Aunt Adira."

"Is your arm alright?"

"Yeah. She still says I shouldn't use my right, but I do most of my fighting with my left hand anyway, so…" He trailed off awkwardly. Despite Quirin's past as a knight, Varian still struggled to talk to him about his training or sparring, or his choice of weapons, or his increase in muscle mass and agility—or anything, really. Why was it so hard to talk to him? Quirin had left the Brotherhood, but he still understood that life, right? But it was nigh impossible to reconcile the two versions of his father in his mind, despite all Hector and Adira told him.

Sure enough, Quirin sighed deeply. Resting a hand on the bags, he changed the subject. "I've got our travel bags packed. We can move out."

"Finally," Hector called. "We've got our path planned. If I never see this place again, it'll be too soon."

"My thoughts exactly," Varian grumbled as he stood. "What's our heading?"

Hector placed the map atop a wooden chopping block beside the cabin. "We're here. The Moonstone thief is headed towards Corona so she can… I dunno, establish another dictatorship or something. If we can head her off, we save a lot of trouble, but there's too much room for error. Adira and I have narrowed it down to here, though." He pointed to a spot on the map. "We think she'll go for the straightest course since she's probably in a hurry. We should be able to cut her off near the Forest of No Return."

"That close?" Varian bit his lip.

"She can move a lot faster than us right now."

Varian moved closer to the map, tracing the lines with his eyes. "Unless… She's not coming straight for Corona."

"Hm?" Hector tilted his head to look at the map from Varian's angle. "What makes you think so?"

"She doesn't understand the Moonstone yet. She doesn't know how to control its power. Cassandra's many things, but she isn't stupid. She'll try to figure out how to force it to do what she wants before she puts her life at stake for some big rebellion."

Hector's eyes glimmered with excitement. "So she's vulnerable. Where do you think she'll go?"

"She'll need somewhere she can practice in secret. She doesn't know we came to Corona, so she'll want to get as far away from the Dark Kingdom as possible. But she won't get so close to Corona that word could get back to Rapunzel. I think she'll stick around the forests or plains to the northeast, where there isn't as much of a populace but she's still away from us. Or maybe the canyon."

"Then if we take this road east, we can cut north at the border of Pittsford." Adira gestured to a line on the map. "From there, we'll follow the rumor trail on our way towards the northeast. If we hear anything promising, we'll change course."

Quirin leaned over the map. "Then we'll split up there. I'll take Varian and head south to Neserdnia."

Varian frowned. "Cassandra won't head towards Neserdnia. It's too populated. Plus, I don't think the Dark Kingdom has any historical connections there. Does it?"

"We had some trade agreements years ago, but nothing significant," Adira answered

"Which is exactly why we'll be going that way," Quirin replied. "Because she won't."

"Huh?" Varian's head canted to the side. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would we go that way if we don't have the opportunity to cut her off?"

It was Hector who understood first, his bright eyes narrowing. He straightened up from the map, arms crossed over his broad chest. "You're leaving."

Varian scoffed. "What? No!" Looking to Quirin, he shook his head in disbelief. "He's not— we're not— Right? I mean, we wouldn't just leave, not when we have to help Uncle Hector and Aunt Adira find Cassandra, right?" His lips slowly curled into a frown. "Right?"

Quirin gave a sigh, straightening his shoulders and letting his eyes fall somewhere over Varian's left shoulder. "We're leaving. This is far too dangerous."

"What? You're just— just gonna leave? Forget the Moonstone? And the mission?"

"Why not?" Hector bit out. "He already has once." By his feet, Riki and Kiki growled and circled, casting twin glares at Quirin.

Quirin shook his head. "You and I will never agree on what happened back then, but arguing about it is pointless."

"Argue? There's nothing to argue about. You left. End of story. You ditched us and left to go live in some overly-cheerful village as far away from the Dark Kingdom as you could possibly get. And now you're running away again."

"I have my son to think about," Quirin growled. "You may just be able to throw your life away for a fool's errand, but I don't have that choice. Varian takes priority."

"Well then," Varian said with a cutting look towards his father, "You'll have to come with us. Because I'm going with Uncle Hector."

"You are not. We are going straight to Neserdnia. There's rich farmland down there, and Neserdnia is far more scientifically advanced than Corona. You can at least continue your engineering studies down there. We can start over somewhere where no one knows us."

"Start over?" he snapped, anger coloring his voice. "I already started over. I started over seven months ago. This is my life now. I'm not going to Neserdnia and acting like none of this ever happened! And they need our help!"

"We can't do this alone," Adira added. "Hector and I are good, but we have no idea what Short Hair can do. The more of us we have working together, the better of a chance we stand of taking her down. We need your help, Quir."

Quirin turned away from them and picked up the travel packs. "Whatever you do, you'll do it without us. This is too dangerous for me to allow Varian to be a part of. His safety is my priority."

"Then come with us," Hector insisted. "Varian's coming, so if you wanna protect him, you don't have much of a choice."

Quirin turned to him. "I already said he's not."

Getting in his personal space, Hector sneered. "What if I say he is?"

"You aren't his father."

"I might as well be! Who broke him out of prison? Who brought his fever down? Who fixed his arm?" He slapped his hand against his chest. "I protected him. I held him after his nightmares. I taught him how to defend himself, and I taught him what it means to be a knight! You didn't do any of that."

"I wasn't there. You know I would have—"

"Exactly!" Hector poked a finger in Quirin's chest. "You weren't there. I was. You ain't the only one in Varian's life, and you sure as heck ain't the only one who gets to say where he goes and what he does. How about you listen to what he wants every once in a while, you bull-headed buffoon?"

"I'm his father. It's my responsibility to keep him safe."

"And it's my responsibility to tell you you're being an overgrown bull calf. Varian can take care of himself. I care just as much about his safety as you, but I trust him. He knows when to make tracks." As he spoke, Ruddiger scampered up to his shoulders, chittering at Quirin in agreement.

"This isn't up for discussion," Quirin snapped, swatting Hector's hand away. "I've already made my decision. We'll travel with you as far as Pittsford, but that's it."

Varian glared at Quirin. Of all the stubborn, inconsiderate, arrogant… This wasn't what he'd expected at being reunited with his father. Admittedly, he hadn't ever expected to see him again, much less be held in his strong embrace the way he had when the amber had sloughed away and he'd run to Quirin's side, seeking out the familiar warmth of his dad's hold. But now that they were together again, he'd at least expected Quirin to act a little more cooperative!

But why should that be so unexpected? To Quirin, the time of his amber imprisonment had felt a matter of moments, like going to sleep and waking again unrested. Why should he be any different now than he was before Varian's mistake had nearly cost him his life? He hadn't lived out the days of agony, the nights of loneliness, the broken moments in between where he gathered what little strength he had in order to remember the faintest glimpse of a friendly smile or kind words.

No, why should Quirin be any different? Only Varian's entire life had changed. Only Varian had lost himself, drowning in the darkness of his own mind till Hector threw him a rope and taught him how to climb.

"What if I don't go?" he questioned. "I've decided to go with Uncle Hector. So come with us or don't, but Cassandra has to be stopped, and I'm going to try to talk her down."

"Enough, Varian!" Quirin snapped.

Varian froze.

"We are going to Neserdnia, and that is final."

He couldn't breathe.

Quirin sighed. "I know this is important to you, and once the Moonstone thief has been stopped, we'll visit Hector and Adira… wherever they end up. But this is not our fight."

Varian swallowed past the stinging in his throat. Tearing his glove off, he held up his right hand, the back facing towards Quirin. "This is my fight. I took my oath, just like them."

Quirin stared at his hand, breathing heavily. Varian held his ground, leaned forward slightly, his left leg slid back so his weight rested against the ball of his foot. The silence between them grew, painful in its heaviness, ancient in its hidden familiarity.

A large hand wrapped around Varian's wrist. He jerked back, his small body coming to a sudden stop at the pressure at the end of his arm. Viselike, Quirin's hold didn't waver as his eyes traced the mark. Then he looked up, a cold anger settling over his visage as he glared at Hector. "What have you done?"

Hector didn't flinch away from Quirin's look. "I did what you wouldn't do. I told him the truth. All of it."

"You had no right!"

"I had every right. He's a son of the Dark Kingdom. You should have told him everything years ago."

"There's a reason I didn't!"

Hector took a step forward, eyes flashing a dangerous warning. "Let him go, Quirin." Still on his shoulder, Ruddiger hissed, eyes narrowed.

Quirin looked down at Varian. Whatever he saw reflected in his son's face— and Varian, for his part, had no idea if his face reflected his sudden anger or his irrational panic at being held in place— made him let go quickly. Varian stumbled back, reflexively grabbing his arm with his left hand and drawing it close to his chest. Ruddiger hopped off his perch and ran to Varian's side, pressing into his legs to offer what comfort he could.

"I'm his sword-father," Hector continued. "I have just as much say as you in where he goes and what he does. This is as much his mission as it is ours." Stepping closer to Quirin again, he hissed, "He's not the same little kid you remember. Your son is a soldier. Get used to it."

"He was never meant to be one," Quirin growled back. "After everything I did to give him a better life than what we had, you had no right to condemn him to that. I wanted better for him than what we had. My son is a scientist, not a soldier. You never should have filled his head with these fantasies."

Varian backed away from the two as they continued to argue. The tightness of his chest hadn't ceased. Adira motioned to him, and he quickly stepped over to her side. "He can't make me leave the Brotherhood, can he?" he whispered.

Adira shook her head. "No. The oath is binding for life."

"Have there ever been times when a parent tried to make their child leave?"

Adira knelt to be on eye level with him. "Did Hector explain to you the parenting side of being a mentor?"

"He just said it meant becoming a sword-father or sword-mother. He didn't really say what that meant."

"It's the same as adoption. Because the successors are chosen young, the mentor agrees to step into the paternal or maternal role for them. When Hector brought you in as his successor, you legally became his child. Because it's so serious, a candidate for the role must receive their own parents' permission. The parents agree to allow their child to be raised and trained by the mentor."

"And I never agreed to that," Quirin snapped, overhearing their conversation. "I didn't give consent for Varian to join the Brotherhood."

Hector gave him a withering look. "Tell him the rest, Adira."

Somewhat smugly, she stood. "If, however, the candidate is an orphan, the successor has no one to seek approval from and therefore no one to say no except the ruling monarch. This principle was established to give a fair chance to orphans who sought a stable life by joining the Dark Kingdom's military."

"I'm very much not dead," Quirin reminded her.

Hector scoffed. "Yeah, and how were we supposed to know that? We brought Varian in under the assumption you were dead. It wasn't easy for any of us, but we moved on. We kept living. As far as we knew, V was an orphan. He might as well have been," he muttered, a haunted look rising to his eyes. "We were all he had. We didn't really try to sit and think about what you wanted for him. It didn't much matter after everything he went through. He was already involved, whether you like it or not. We did the best we could."

"You didn't have to involve him like this."

"It was my choice," Varian spoke up. "I wanted to join."

"Because he gave you some story of the honor and dignity of knighthood, I suppose." To Hector, he added, "I'd thought everything we went through would've cleared your head a little. That life is over. The glory days are gone. We gave up our lives for nothing but bones and dust to show for it."

"The mission was never over," Hector shot back. "It was never about the Dark Kingdom. We lost our home but not our purpose. You just threw yours away. Like we weren't good enough for you anymore. We were never supposed to have anything to show for it. That was for everyone else to have. Our sacrifice made their lives possible."

"Whose lives? The people are gone. They've settled elsewhere."

Varian wrapped his arms around himself and looked up at Adira. "Are they normally like this?"

"All the time," she admitted wearily. "I was, too. We weren't always a unified front."

"How long does it normally take them to work it out?"

"Depends on how angry they make each other in the next five minutes."

Varian groaned and settled against a rock. They could be here a while. "Cassandra's getting further away, and they're sitting here arguing about who gets to… parent me?"

"Yep."

"Should we say something?"

A dry smile turned the corners of her lips. "In a minute. I want to see where this goes."

Next to the map, Quirin and Hector continued to argue, gesturing and pacing to prove their points. "You're overreacting," Hector huffed. "The kid's old enough to make his own decision about this sorta thing. He's a lot older than we were."

"The end of a sword doesn't care how old you are. It kills just the same. If the Moonstone thief hurts Varian, that responsibility falls on you. Are you prepared for that?"

"Talya took responsibility when I got hurt. Ki'Bera took responsibility for you. It's what's expected of us. Or do you just think I'm not capable of being responsible?" Hector waved a hand at Varian. "I'm doing a dang good job. He's healthy and safe. And now, thanks to me, he knows how to protect himself. You saw what he did to that Coronan guard."

"Don't remind me. I lost five years of my life watching that. He could have died. He nearly did!"

"But he won. That's what I've taught him. You didn't teach him that."

"Because I never wanted him to have to fight!"

"You left him unprepared!"

Varian rested his head in his hands. "We're gonna be here a while."

Wordlessly, Adira held out a bag of mixed nuts and dried fruit. Varian took a handful and munched at it while he watched the chaos unfold.

"I prepared him for what he needed," Quirin answered. "I didn't prepare him to throw his life away recklessly! After everything we endured, the last thing I wanted was for him to suffer the same as us. To give up everything for a life of solitude and misery and to die at the edge of a blade with nothing to show for his years. I left the Brotherhood because after years of work, I saw the futility of it all. There may have been a point years ago, but not anymore. No one even remembers the rumors of the Moonstone." His tone dropping lower, he growled, "You may have convinced Varian to take an oath he couldn't possibly understand, but I refuse to sit by and watch you convince my son to surrender everything for this— this cultish mission!"

Hector's eyes narrowed to slits. "Cultish?" he echoed. "Is that what you think of us? You think me and Adira are cult members. We've seen cults, Quirin. We've dismantled cults. How dare you compare our work to that!"

Adira's eyes widened in alarm. Standing, she positioned herself in between the two men. "That's enough. Both of you. I'd thought twenty-five years would've matured you a little bit, but here you are, bickering like children! Hector, give Quirin some grace. He lost a year of his life, and now his son is a different person. And you, Quirin—" She whirled on him with a scowl. "You made your thoughts on the Brotherhood clear when you left, but whether you like it or not, Varian made an informed decision that he was old enough to make. And that decision is irreversible unless he chooses to leave like you did. You can't force him to leave. Now every minute we spend arguing is a moment more that Short Hair learns how to use the Moonstone." She rested a hand on Quirin's shoulder. "We won't make you come with us. If you leave, I'll respect your decision. But the very evil we all feared and worked to prevent has happened. If the Brotherhood doesn't stand in her way, then she'll destroy anything in her path. And don't think for one minute she'll be satisfied with just Corona. That sort of power has a tendency to spread. Varian won't be safe, even in Neserdnia. Short Hair wants him on her side. I, for one, don't want to see what she'll do to accomplish that goal. If he can talk her down and convince her to see reason, I think he deserves to try."

Quirin hung his head, a heavy sigh weighing his words down. "I watched the Moonstone destroy everything, Adira. This isn't the life I wanted for Varian."

"I know. But like it or not, he was already suffering because of the Moonstone. He lost his freedom, his home, and… and you. All we offered him was a chance to fight back. To keep others from losing everything as well. Once upon a time, you saw the importance of what we did. That we sacrifice so others can live." She took a step back, removing her hand from his shoulder. "And you can't blame Hector for being angry you called the Brotherhood a cult. You know how he grew up. You know how important this is to him. Our sacrifice was made for something greater than ourselves, and people lived good, long lives because of what we did." Looking between the two, she continued, "I won't make you go with us, but I'm asking you to. As your sister. Our family is together for the first time in years. Are we really going to throw this chance away? Help us stop the thief. Then we can talk about what to do from there." She gave a stern look to Hector, who fidgeted uncomfortably. "Hector," she prompted.

He sighed. "I want you to come with us. I… I've missed you. It hasn't been the same."

Quirin looked back and forth between them, then at Varian, who watched with bated breath. Had Adira managed to reach him when Varian's own pleas fell on deaf ears? While a small part of him wanted to be angry with Quirin, the former knight's grief and pain traced itself into every line of his face. Adira could reach him as an equal, someone who had lived the same pain that he had. Someone who had fought at his side, their blood intermingled on the battlefield.

"I'll… Just this once. For Varian's sake. I'll come with you and help you stop her." Quirin straightened his shoulders and nodded. "After that, then we can talk about it. You weren't the only one who moved on. I moved on, too. I created a life for myself outside the Brotherhood. I don't know if I'm ready to give that up again."

"I understand." She picked up her bag. "Are we settled, then?"

"If you two are ready, I am," Hector huffed. "Well, this was a big waste of time for something we all knew was gonna happen. He's too sentimental to leave us alone for long."

"You're the one who said he was going to leave us again."

"Yeah, but I didn't mean it." He rolled his eyes. "I knew he'd come around."

"Liar."

Varian stared, eyes wide. Had that really just happened? After all their arguing, they were over it just like that?

The tightness of Hector's smile answered his question, as did the wary way Quirin held himself away from the others. When Hector had first freed Varian, several of his wounds had been infected. Hector had needed to reopen some of them to apply the healing medicines and allow them to mend properly. Like then, their now-gentle words were a temporary balm over deeper wounds that still needed to be healed. But they had acknowledged their injuries, at least, and healing would come in time.

Sprinting forward, he flung himself at Quirin, wrapping his arms around him. Quirin grunted, kneeling down to hug him in return. "I wanna learn everything," he demanded. "Teach me everything you know! Hector says you were the best at hand-to-hand combat, and that you know how to speak six languages, and that you used to make maps, and that—"

"You want to know everything?" Quirin laughed. "That will take a while."

"We've got time."

Quirin's hand came up to rest against the back of his head, fingers running through his long hair. "Yeah… we have time."

Their wounds would need to be addressed soon. They had let them fester for too long. And the time would come. For now, though, they had a mission to fulfill and a thief to catch. Until then, they had each other again, and that was enough.

O‴O‴O‴

Leather scraped against uneven cobblestone as she tripped, her boots catching in a small sinkhole. A hand caught her arm and steadied her. She looked up at her companion with a nod of thanks, readjusting her hood over her eyes. Drawing out a small book from her pocket, she scratched a few notes on the paper and replaced it.

"Do we need to be out here? Surely we could have had people come talk to you somewhere safer," he whispered, glancing around out from under the hood of his own cloak.

"I need to see it for myself. Outside the walls of the palace. Where should we stop next?"

"One of our informants mentioned a section of town that floods every time it rains."

"Take me there, then." Arianna brushed her wrist across her forehead. Some months from now, the weather would snap soon and bring in the cool of harvest-time, but until then, the summer heat pressed its advantage with all its strength. "Oh, remind me to speak to the stonemasons about carving rainwater holes into the bricks for the animals. Somewhere people won't trip on them, of course."

"Of course, Your— er, Ma'am." Bartholomew motioned down another street. "It's this way, over towards the coast."

They hurried through the streets. As they walked, Arianna glanced around, noting several others in hooded cloaks like theirs. At least out here, this was considered normal, and their efforts to conceal their faces gathered no undue attention as she had feared.

As they stepped out into a small square, Arianna stopped and put out a hand for Bartholomew to do so as well. He gave a questioning grunt but stopped when he saw what she had seen. There, in the center of the square, Rapunzel danced with a few young ladies, flower petals scattered around at their feet as a lanky young man played a vibrant tune on his fiddle. Over against the wall, several gold-armored guards watched: one of Frederic's security measures he'd mandated after the Brotherhood had left Corona. It was a pointless endeavor, in Arianna's opinion, given his decree that Varian and his family were banished, but he had insisted. And it was currently the reason why she and Bartholomew had traveled alone and in disguise.

"What are you going to tell her?" Bartholomew asked.

"I don't know yet. She'll need to know everything eventually. I just haven't decided how to tell her. Or when."

"Why wait? As you said, she'll need to know."

Arianna leaned against the brick wall, watching Rapunzel's carefree dance. "She's a key part of my plan, but I can't risk her jeopardizing everything if Frederic's influence over her is still too strong." Lowering her voice, she murmured half to herself, "She already lost one parent this way."

As Rapunzel twirled, she caught sight of the two cloaked figures. Her lips quirked in confusion before blossoming into the beautiful grin that warmed Arianna's heart every time she saw it. This was why she fought. For this, for Rapunzel, for her people. And for this, she would undo every malignant design of Frederic's. She would reach down to the core of his lies and manipulation and rip it to shreds. She would tear down his empire brick by brick.

Placing a finger to her lips, she drew back further into the alley. Rapunzel nodded slightly and looked away, casting her attention back to her dance. Letting her gaze linger for just a moment on Rapunzel— on her hope, her pride, her very heart and the future of her kingdom— she slipped away down the side street to go around the square.

There was much work to be done.