Chapter Text
If there was one thing Varian was grateful about with his reputation of the ‘Wizard of Old Corona’, it was how it left him with no one pestering him and parading their equally eligible daughters in front of him like they were prized show mares. Not only was it annoying, it was also distasteful and demeaning to the girls themselves. Had this happened five years ago when he was still that excitable, eager to please, pushover fourteen-year-old him, he likely would’ve married the first girl he had met right then and there and he’d be even more miserable then he already was, but thankfully, his father had held off until he was eighteen, the legal age of his father’s homeland apparently. He was wiser despite only four years being the difference.
He yawned a little as he sat at the table to finish his breakfast of potato pancakes, sausages and a soft scramble of an egg with his father while Ruddiger polished his bowl of apple slices. It hadn’t been easy convincing his father to let him keep Ruddiger, but the increasing lack of bugs in the field was worth a brush and a few apples a day.
“The windows need washing today, Son,” Quirin informed him as he too finished his food, “And Promethus’ stable needs to be cleaned.”
“Is it the middle of the month already?” Varian asked around another yawn before tossing back his cold water to help himself wake up, which worked as the cold shock went straight to his brain, “I’ll go straight to it right after I look at the lab’s inventory Dad.”
Quirin immediately paused at the word ‘lab’, it became something of a warning word for him, which wasn’t much of a warning since it came up at least once every conversation. He was used to it, doesn’t mean he was completely comfortable with. Don’t get him wrong, he was happy his son was following his beloved Ulla’s footsteps so proudly, but that didn’t mean it didn’t come with worries; Ulla had always been harassed even when he wasn’t far away with accusations of witchcraft and being blamed for every little thing going wrong in the village, the only thing that didn’t have her being lynched from a tree branch or burned to ashes was the passing of the law banning witch hunts and lynch mobs by Fredrick’s mother years before the man’s ascension a month after his father’s passing. Bless Queen Regnant Solaria’s kind and bold heart.
But that didn’t leave her or his son safe from hurtful comments and shoves and the like, or his fears of whispers of traditionalist nobles wanting to get the lift ban by taking advantage of the Lost Princess’ growing absence and its effect on Fredrick. Plus, the increasing tiredness each of his son’s unintentional failures and literal blow ups was getting to him. He was in his mid-forties and constantly doing damage control on the increasingly irate villagers under his care and protection was not proving good on his mental health on top of the stress his son put him through over his own well-being with each explosion. He was surprised he didn’t have any gray hairs yet.
“Any inventions I should be aware of so I can prepare the ‘Everything is Under Control’ speech ahead of time?” Quirin asked as carefully as he could with how many times he’s had to ask after his son hit his double digits. “Dad, I’m just going to do a stock run, if anything I’m just going to be confined to the lab all day running numbers,” Varian waved the question off with a mild, playful pout at the prediction of yet another explosion and failure.
Quirin paused again at this as he finished putting the dirty dishes in the sink, taking a deep breath through his nose and mentally prepared himself. He knew his son wouldn’t like it but…ever since he turned sixteen, he had been spending more and more time in his lab that the only time Quirin ever saw his own son outside the house was when he was doing chores or running errands or when he was accompanying him into the capital for Court appearances. He saw what isolation did to Ulla, he had always strongly suspected it was part of the reason she so easily went with Donella…he couldn’t let his son fall to it too.
“Actually Son,” Quirin began carefully, “It’s such a beautiful and warm day out; perhaps you’d prefer to spend the day at the creek for a while.”
Varian raised a brow in suspicion, nothing about the suggestion seemed off on the outside but Varian knew his father and could pick up the small raise in his voice when he’d get nervous giving it a small pitch. There was something he wasn’t saying and Varian hated it when his father did that, he was always upfront and truthful with his father unless he didn’t have a choice; he hated it when his father didn’t return the sentiment. When Varian was younger he could understand, but Varian was a mature adult by both his father’s homeland’s standards and Corona’s, he’d like to be treated like it.
“And I suppose I would run into a few others looking to cool off too, right?” Varian caught on immediately as he caught his shoulders tense up, “I mean this would be the creek that’s just a mile or so from Old Mrs. Gossip Millers’ farm would it? Heard about it yesterday during the grocery run; apparently her grand-daughters just love to spend their hours there after chores to ‘cool off’.”
“Well, Mrs. Millers may have mentioned that Bertha, Maria and Antoinette do spend a lot of time there and others are welcome to dip their toes in during particularly warm days,” Quirin admitted knowing he was caught. The downside of being the only two in the house for years, his son knew him just as well as he knew his son.
“Dad, matchmaking attempts aside, despite us having had numerous conversations about why that isn’t needed,” Varian began with a small growl of indigence coloring the beginning of his response, a warm brush of fur to his leg and soothing purr of his only real friend in world had him calming a bit, “But I’ll be fine; it’s still spring and really, it’s not that warm out and I promise I’m not working on any inventions or even formulas for alchemy this time; it really is just crunching some numbers, maybe brush up some blueprints.”
“Son, it’s not just the match-making,” Quirin sighed as he mentally steeled himself, slightly aware Varian was likely doing the same thing, “It’s just…isolation…it’s not good Son, for anyone in anyway…everyone needs a friend…” Ruddiger raised his head with a furrowed fuzzy brow and a loud chitter of protest, making Quirin add, “That can actually talk back and isn’t covered in fur and eats insects and rapids my fruit bowls.”
Quirin didn’t need to turn around and Varian didn’t need to look down to see the guilty look on the raccoon’s face at the last part. Varian rolled his eyes at the jab at his friend and assistant, bending down to pick the fuzzball up and set him in his lap, giving a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry Bud, you’re worth every apple, fur and dietary needs and all.” Ruddiger chittered and curled up with a smile.
“It’s just…I think we can both agree humans are social creatures,” Quirin said trying to get Varian to see his point. “Oh I completely agree with you there,” Varian perked a bit, “It’s why solitary confinement is considered among many to be a fate worse than execution; nothing but silence and your own thoughts and four walls with no windows? No wonder no one comes out of there alive-”
“Varian!” Quirin interrupted the rant before it could turn into ramblings, he really did love his son’s quirks, it just showed how much of Ulla he had despite her absence, but now was not the time, “My point is…would it hurt to go and at least…try to interact with some of your peers? I mean…me and Ruddiger, great as we are,” He threw a little smile that did reward him with a snort and smile back, “We…we won’t be around forever and…” He grimaced as the smile fell, “I just…I just don’t want you to be alone…have someone you can trust to have your back when I’m not there…make you happy.”
Varian groaned, if his dad was purposefully trying to lay on the guilt-tripping thick, it was working; a bit. Not that he’d tell him that, he’d never let him hear the end of it. “I know Dad, believe me I get it!” Varian groused giving his father a very annoyed look he never would’ve given him when he was younger, “You think I didn’t try? Dad, I tried and tried, but it was like banging my head against a brick wall!” He watched his father open his mouth and quickly interrupted, “Ah, no, I did try Dad! I even did try new things like toss and wrestling; still didn’t get me anywhere! So why bother? I’m better off alone anyways.”
Quirin sucked in a breath at that, those words were too familiar for him. The only real brothers he had in the world had echoed them to him so long ago it felt almost like another lifetime at this point. It made his heart crack and fall in his chest. “No one is better off alone Son,” He said before trying to lighten the mood with a slightly joking tone, “And come on Son, how are you going to start a family and give me grandchildren if you don’t go out and meet the fair ladies of the world? Huh?”
Varian’s face immediately pinched up in response out of shock at the sudden approach to the topic of his love life and his face started to burn until it almost resembled a tomato. The sight made Quirin chuckle, one thing that would never change was how easy it was to get his son flustered and embarrassed. Made him long for the days when his son was barely knee high on him and cuddling with his wolf toy and blanket…
“Dad!” Varian snapped with a groan pulling Quirin from his misty-eyed reminiscing, “One, I’m only eighteen, please don’t start this again, and two, again, what’s the point? I’m never going to find love like you and Mom did.”
Quirin winced at the mention of his wife, chest turning heavy like he swallowed a rock. “Now Son, that’s hardly…” Quirin began to rebuff. “No, Dad, it’s true!” Varian argued, “All the girls eligible for me are either scared to death of me or my reputation or think I should be hanged or burned like a witch just because I’m an alchemist! And that includes the women of the Court, Dad, don’t even try there! I heard the whispers too!”
Quirin’s heart plummeted at that, he knew this sort of reputation wasn’t easy on his son, but he had hoped to protect him from the Court’s cruelty and backwards thinking. Naïve of him maybe, but he was still a father who didn’t want his son hearing such things, no matter his age.
Varian grunted as he began to pet Ruddiger’s fur in an effort to calm himself down, but it wasn’t easy. It was heard not to hear of the whispers of Court whenever alchemy was spoken of. He won’t lie and say it didn’t disturb him or frighten him a bit, but he learned long ago how to stop letting snobbish nobles get to him. “Besides, my title as your heir doesn’t exactly help,” Varian added with a barbed tone, “If anyone does somehow approach, its only because they want to be the next Lady of Old Corona or Archduchess Ritter, face it Dad; no one in this kingdom will want me for me.”
With that final heart-breaking statement, Varian stood, carrying Ruddiger, and headed off with a huff. It made Quirin sigh heavily as he leaned against the sink. Well that had gone as well as he expected it to.
Varian huffed as he trudged down the stairs to his lab, figuring he may as well get the stock count out of the way first, but the fiery anger in his veins made that difficult to focus, so he eventually just shoved the board with the number sheets aside to sit at his desk. “Ugh, why does he have to keep bringing this up, Rud?” He asked his raccoon, who was sitting on a crate and listening patiently, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I get it! Does he really think I don’t want a family of my own one day? But I want what he and Mom had and I’m never going to get that here with any Coronan woman and my reputation and their views of alchemists!” He groaned in frustration and tiredness.
Sometimes he wished he could just leave, leave this backwater kingdom and start a new life somewhere else where he’d be accepted and praised by someone other than his father for his abilities, encouraged even. But where would he go? His father was the only family he had and he knew how much it would hurt the man if he woke up to find his son just gone, even if he did leave him a note and constantly sent him letters. A lot of things had changed for Varian in the last four years, but he wasn’t heartless and he still loved his father despite their issues. Besides, his dreams always included his father spoiling his grandchildren rotten, hard to do that countries away. And he feared he’d become his father if he did leave and start a new life somewhere, like his own father did, and become distant as he kept things from his kids, assuming he would be lucky enough just to have two of the large brood he really wanted; he was an only kid, sue him if he didn’t want his own children to know that loneliness too.
He sighed again as he slumped back against his desk, he was too tired for all this. He perked a bit as an idea crossed his mind and turned to the secret entrance in the corner of his lab that led into the hidden, forgotten tunnels beneath Old Corona. An evacuation measure from back when the village had first been founded and simply forgotten over time once peace fell over the kingdom and no need for them risen since. The abandonment worked for Varian though; it was a means of escape from the lab and his father’s expectations. Just a pull of a switch he rigid with a book, he just walked right into the hidden caverns and he could be free for a little while. He even dug out little grottos and alcoves where he made…nests for lack of better words, where he could lay down and just…rest and unwind, let out of his frustrations with unheard screams or just ugly cry without fear of his father rushing to him or someone overhearing and judging him or spreading more rumors…
And where he could indulge in his less…acceptable interests, ones his father would never be even remotely supportive of even if he tried.
Varian chalked up the weird attraction to a mix of physical attraction and psychical to the type of personality he wished the girls of Old Corona had. Fiona Rider and The Emerald Succubus were the exact opposite of Bertha, Maria, Antoinette or any other village girl or lady of the Coronan Court; they were free-spirited, rambunctious, loud, wild, strong, rebellious; they couldn’t be delicate flowers if they tried. The fact they were gorgeous and always wore pants and figure fitting blouses that showed off what the gods gave them definitely helped. The one thing he did enjoy about his father’s position within the Court was that it did help him make a few friends in the misfits and the outcasts of both Court and the castle staff and guards. Not many, but he liked small groups anyways. One friend in particular worked with making the wanted posters and another had several run-ins with the she-thieves. Amazing what a little withdraw from his savings and overtime could do.
The posters were worth every coin, especially once they enlisted Faith. All her time as a maid in the castle meant she was well-versed with the high quality scanty bed wear the high society women would wear. Combine it all together created a physical means for any fanboy’s wet dream come true and stress release material. Which was exactly what he needed right now.
He fell back against the piles of blankets and pillows atop an old but comfortable mattress, looking up at the sexy posters he had gotten from his friend Boris of the two women in different poses and outfits. His favorite was the one he kept under one of the pillows; he pulled it out and carefully unfolded it. Emerald and Fiona were standing next to each other, dressed in nothing except corsets that were partially unlaced to show off more of their ample, above average sized breasts, hips clad in thin white silk panties that matched the knee long stockings, decorated with ribbons. Red for Fiona and, of course, green for Emerald, their hair free like waterfalls of chocolate and gold; Emerald’s domino theater mask made her vibrant green eyes stick out even more.
He stared down into soft round faces and gorgeous pools of forest and liquid mahogany, and he slowly began to slip into fantasy.
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Soft bell like giggles filled his ears as Varian looked up and found himself in what he could only describe as a suite within a royal castle or luxurious chateau; the finest furniture made from oak, laying on the softest silk sheets he’s ever felt but the scene before him stole his breath. Emerald and Fiona sat in front of him on the bed, clad in the white lingerie and stockings, but were running their hands along each other’s bodies. Long deft fingers and perfect nails trailed up fair skin, rubbing up against each other and kissing.
“See something you like Milord~?” Fiona purred with a smirk when she glanced over at him, giving a moan as Emerald trailed her lips down her neck to her chest, dark pink lips just ghosting over the edge where skin disappeared into the stiff linen of the corset, brushing against the silky crimson loose ribbons.
“How couldn’t he Fi~?” Emerald murmured soft against fair, creamy skin, husky blue eyes watched as dark curls bounced as the older woman titled back with a shudder, “He’s caught the two most beautiful and wanted thieves in the kingdom~”
“That I have,” Varian’s voice rumbled, sounding raspy yet heavy and thick with terse lust in his own ears, blood rushing in his ears southward at the display, he noticed them both shiver at his voice, “Whatever shall I do…? I should call the guards…”
“Whatever for, Milord~?” Emerald asked with a playful expression as she leaned away from Fiona to stretch back against the sheets like a lazy cat. A perfect pale hourglass on a shameless display, golden hair splayed out like a halo as she added coyly, “We’re just lying in bed~”
“Ah but I never recall inviting you lovely ladies in,” Varian rebuffed more easily then Varian could ever remember being able to speak to women he actually liked.
He swallowed as he watched Fiona shift onto her hands and knees and began to crawl across the bed towards him, her thirty-six D-cup sized breasts jiggled and swayed with each movement, threatening to burst out of the loosened corset. While Emerald looked like a lazy housecat just lounging like she owned the room, Fiona resembled a lioness prowling for her next meal.
“Oh please don’t call for the guards, Milord~” Fiona pleaded with a gentle and timid voice that didn’t reach her half-lid expression, “We’re just hard working women trying to make it through the day~” When she finally reached him, she crawled so she was hovering over him, “Isn’t there anything we can do to…persuade you into letting us stay free~?”
“I have a few ideas,” Varian rumbled raspily as his hands found her hips and pulled her down, rolling his hips up into her crotch with a groan, “But if you ladies have suggestions; I’m all ears~”
Fiona gave a slightly startled gasp mixed with a moan, “Oooh~! Well, I wouldn’t say all ears~” She punctuated her purr with a roll of her hips against his, eliciting another groan from him and a moan from her, “Definitely more than just ears~ Ooh Sun~!”
“Such high praises, Fi~” Emerald giggled as she crawled over to join them, shuffling up so she was chest to back with Fiona, straddling his legs, wrapping her arms around the older, “Tell me, milord, which one of us do you think is prettier~?” She let a golden braid fall over Fiona’s shoulder, “Me or Rider ~?”
Fiona gasped in surprise as Emerald cupped her breasts through the corset. Varian groaned at the sight, feeling himself swell even harder against Fiona. “Not a fair question, Emerald~” He answered in a groan as he watched the blonde begin to fondle and massage Fiona’s breasts, lifting his hands to rub the brunette’s hips in time with Esme’s movements, “How can I possibly compare gold and platinum~?”
Both girls blushed prettily, giggling between moans and gasps slipping from Fiona’s mouth as she began to roll her hips against his hard wood; warm, soft and beautiful, and wild. "Such a charmer~" Emerald chuckled, "Your peers could learn a thing or two from you..." The most adorable pout filled her plump lips which were painted a faint, shiny pink, "Cultured pigs seem to forget that lack of skirt doesn't make you less of a lady."
"Then let me treat you girls right~" Varian replied as he trailed his hands up Fiona's sides, leaning a bit so one hand could rub Emerlad's hip too, earning a pleased purr from the blonde, "Let me treat you like the goddesses you both are~" He watched as their cheeks burn hotter, turning as red as a fresh, ripe cherry. He then reached down and pushed aside the panties, revealing the hairless treasure he sought as Fiona rose her hips to line the head of his pride with her lower lips...
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Varian groaned, back arching as europhria rushed up his spine straight to his brain, the metaphorical string snapping him across the proverbial ledge. He laid back against his nest of pillows and blankets, he looked away from the pristine poster of the thieving vixens. He then looked down at his lowered trousers to where his member was held in his bare hand, gloves tossed aside somewhere, legs and the bottom of his tunic stained and sticky with his semen. Varian sighed as he laid back, "Always just when its about to get good..." Just another day in his provincial alchemist life. He had to wonder just how long he could keep this going before he caved beneath his father’s expectations again? After all, even if these four years gave him a backbone and made him less eager to please; he still loved his father and he did want children of his own and due to the backwards, barbaric laws of the kingdom, adoption didn’t apply to the inheritance of those above the gentry class.
Would he ever find love? Or was he just setting his hopes too high...again.