Reflections

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Trigger warnings: self-deprecation, introspection about scars

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Varian gasped and curled into Hector's side as a clap of thunder shook the night. The warrior placed a hand out for his nephew to grasp. Two days since the incident, and Varian was starting to recover, but his nerves were on high alert. The others kept their distance, not speaking to the warriors or their nephew unless they needed to. Except for Lance, of course. He apologized to Varian a million times and hovered like a protective mother until Adira chased him away.

The three sat sideways on the bunk, Varian snuggled between the warriors. He'd been skittish and panicky at first, but his need for shelter and protection sent him into their arms before long. As long as Hector and Adira didn't make any sudden movements, he was fine. They kept to themselves, and the princess's group kept to themselves (except for Lance), and the atmosphere was thicker than the princess's skull.

Hector flipped a page in his book and glanced over at Varian again. His nephew was staring intently at the scroll pieces, mumbling to himself. Ruddiger snoozed in his lap, twitching slightly when thunder sounded, although that could be a reaction to his boy's flinching. Adira sat next to their nephew, drawing on his face with her red paint. She squinted and tilted her head slightly, dipping her finger in the paint and drawing a line on Varian's cheek. Then she grinned and added two dots. Hector craned his neck to see. Adira had traced a curved scar on Varian's face and placed two eyes over it to make a smile.

Hector dipped his finger in the paint and drew two more lines. Adira frowned. "Did you just draw fangs on my smile?"

"Yeah. What you gonna do about it?"

"It's a smile. It's not supposed to have fangs."

Hector grinned, showing off his unnaturally sharp teeth. "I resent the implication I'm not allowed to smile." He closed his mouth, letting his sharp canines stick out of his lips and sending Varian into a fit of giggling.

Thunder boomed, and lightning illuminated the night outside the window. Varian buried his face in Hector's side again. He wasn't afraid of storms, Hector knew, but he'd been alternatingly vivacious and jumpy ever since the last incident.

Hector hated how "incident" had become a common word for them.

"Aww, kid, you're gonna get red all over my shirt," he teased. "If I wanted to be covered in red, I'd hug Adira."

"She'd stab you," Varian mumbled.

"Yeah. That's where the red comes from."

Adira stuck her tongue out. "Maybe don't talk about b-l-o-o-d in front of him?" She suggested.

"Gee, if only I knew what that could possibly spell," Varian replied with a smirk.

"Don't sass me. Earrings!" she snapped at Lance.

He turned to her with a bright smile, heedless of her tone. "Yes, Ange-A-Ad-Adira?"

"I will cut out your tongue if you don't stop that whistling," she hissed.

He wisely shut up.

"You know, you could always ask nicely," Fitzherbert commented from his faithful place in front of his mirror. "It's not that hard."

"It's also not that hard to enjoy the sight of something other than your reflection, Orion," Cassandra snapped from the doorway.

"Narcissus."

"What?" She whirled on Varian.

"Narcissus was the one who fell in love with his reflection. Orion was a hunter."

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