Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…
Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus
Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash.
Feedback appreciated.
NOW ON AO3 :D
Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Remus. Remus, Remus, Remus.
The mad Prince of Notaleveale.
Remus was coming here. Remus was coming to Steveange and if Romulus saw him-
Roman had to leave.
Which was easier said than done; when the streets were crowded with hoards of shoppers and revellers all pressing against him, blocking his path, stealing the air out of his lungs-
“Roman!”
He needed to go. He need to find Virgil and Patton in whatever rooms they’d managed to find, collect his belongings and-
No. That would take too long – he could replace the clothes and books, he already had his sword-
“Roman, what’re you-”
- but he needed his lute. To make any kind of living he had to be able to perform. It was the only thing he was good at and once he’d got away he’d be -
He could do it. He’d run away before. He survived alone, without anyone, he could do it again and-
“Roman! Stop!”
He stopped.
Logan. Heading towards him. But he hadn’t given a time frame and if Roman grit his teeth and pushed past the spike of pain he could start to move again in just a second-
“Wait!”
Dammit.
Roman waited. Fists clenched by his side, until Logan was next to him.
“Roman.”
His chest was tight. His brain wasn’t -wasn’t working right and Logan looked so odd, with his glasses askew and his face flushed – had he been running?
“I thought I saw Patton.” Roman blurted.
It was the first excuse that popped into his head and it was clearly not – not good enough. Logan was frowning at him, a pinched expression, studying him like an experiment and-
Roman hated him, suddenly.
Logan was an upstart swot with ideas above his station and a chip on his shoulder. He poked and prodded and lost them jobs with his terse words and his better than you attitude. He reminded Roman of the tutors who snap at him for his lack of understanding and bark orders for him to recite, repeat, remember, to be better, smarter, stronger: someone worthy of his title.
He reminded him most of all of Julius. His fathers closest advisor, who had been charged with unravelling the Princes’ curses. He was the one who had helped Romulus learn how to push against his curse. He would give him orders that were almost impossible to follow and watch with cold eyes as Romulus struggled to disobey. Together they’d categorised how much pain he could withstand, what orders could be navigated and misinterpreted and which ones he was truly helpless against.
Once, he’d bid Romulus to stand on one leg. And left him there until his muscles started to cramp and shake, waiting to see if gravity or the curse was stronger. Romulus had been in tears by the end. Had even wondered, briefly, about complaining to his parents. But is was such a silly, innocuous order compared to other experiments. What had truly upset him was how Julian had just stood there, not speaking, his eyes distant and cold and calculating as he noted down every twitch and whimper from the boy. Even when he circled him, Romulus could feel those eyes boring into the back of his neck like a-
“Princey.”
Roman blinked. Julius’ practice room disappeared, replaced with the sights and sound of the Steveange street. Logan was in front of him and his eyes were far from cold. When he spoke it was with the same gentle tone that Roman had heard him use when Virgil’s worries overwhelmed him or when Patton woke from a nightmare and didn’t know where he was.
“Did the cro- the woman. Did she say something to you?” Logan was holding his hand. Gently but firmly, he tugged at Romans tightly clenched fingers, encouraging them to unfurl. Roman stared uncomprehendingly at the deep crescent marks he’d made in his palm.
Slowly, Logan released his right hand and reached for his left, repeating the process.
Roman felt shame ripple through him.
Logan wasn’t Julius. Logan would never push him so far he broke.
Logan was his friend and Roman has made him worry with his silly behaviour and his slapdash lie. But he could fix it.
He forced a smiled. Flexed his fingers and straightened up his full height. Made a show of looking around him.
“I swear I saw him. Big man, big sword, big smile – he’s hard to mistake!”
Hesitantly, Logan glanced around too before quickly refocusing on Roman.
“Are you sure you –“
“Ah well, the mind plays trick I suppose – must be hunger getting to me, speaking of which…”
Roman reached forward and deftly snatched the bag from Logan's grasp, reaching in blindly and shoving the first pastry he found into his mouth.
“Mmmm so good!” He beamed at Logan with berry stained teeth, flakes of pastry flying through the air. “Aren’t you going to have one?”
Logan stared at him. Roman kept his smile sweet and his eyes clear. He held up the bag and wiggled it enticingly.
Hesitantly, Logan took the bag and selected a tart. Keeping his eyes on the bard the entire time, he ate his treat with much more refinement then Roman had shown. “Holding back?” Roman asked, teasing, “I’ve seen you eat jam before, there’s no point pretending to have table manners now.”
Logan just hmphed but his shoulders relaxed slightly and Roman decided to take that as a victory. “We should get going” Roman said and started walking, Logan easily falling into step beside him.
The streets were crowded enough that none of the sellers seemed to feel the need to call to Roman specifically, and so this time he was free to investigate the stalls he was actually interested in.
But instead he stayed by Logan's side
Logan was a good friend. For all he claimed to lack an understating of emotional nuances he was letting Roman have his space. He’d even distracted him earlier, when his biggest concern had been the a spike of homesickness after meeting their northern customer.
He was nothing like Julius.
Roman was going to miss him so much.
***
Roman kept up his performance of normality all the way back to the main square, where they had agreed to meet the others once their mission was done. The sky was beginning to turn dark by the time they got there, though it was easy enough to navigate from the sheer number of stalls still in operation, each one boasting its own selection of colourful lanterns.
“This is fantastic!” Roman gasped theoretically, spinning on one foot to take in the whole spectacle.
“It’s a fire hazard.” Logan muttered with a frown.
They found Virgil waiting for them by the central fountain. He had manged to find a seat on the fountains edge but was wedged between two young couples who had clearly taken the romantic festival atmosphere to heart. The healer’s shoulders were up by his ears and his cloak was wrapped so tightly around himself it looked constricting. When he saw them he sprang to his feet so quickly he almost knocked one of the young ladies into the water.
“Took you two long enough.”
Roman and Logan glanced at each other.
“Logan got lost-”
“Roman kept wandering off.”
“-We brought you baked goods!”
Virgil took one of the two remaining pastries with minimal grumbling and led them out of the square. They took the north east road, a path that curved its wary upwards into the higher levels of the city. Here the buildings were all built of a blush-pink marble that sparkled in the evening twilight. The streets were wide, with neatly arranged flowerbeds and street lights which had the steady glow of Arkazeii glow lamps rather than the flicker of oil. There were certainly no traders spread out on blankets. Logan looked distinctly unimpressed.
“Was this inn you found an…economical choice?”
“It was a ‘the whole town’s rammed and this was the only place with a room left’ choice.” Virgil snarked “and don’t worry – its one room for all four of us with no breakfast included, if you were worried about getting too… bourgeoisie…or whatever."
Logan raised his hands for peace.
“I’m sure you did the best you could.”
“Well …we were lucky.” Virgil told him, and then glanced over at Roman, his lip twitching.
“Apparently they give discounts to performers.”
***
The inn was certainly a cut above their normal haunts. With brightly painted walls almost obscured by well pruned climbing plants, outdoor seating, and a wrought iron gate leading to spacious stables behind the building. Even the doors were of better quality then your typical village tavern – made of wood heavy enough to make a satisfying crash when Roman stormed in.
The room was crowded, but Patton really was hard to miss. Roman shoved his way through to the back table where the big man sat waiting. Leaving other customers cursing in his wake.
‘Hey kiddo!’ Patton greeted him with a wide smile “Did you-“
“Key.” Roman snarled.
Patron blinked and him, shock writ large on his face. “Sorry?”
“The key. To my room. Give it.” Roman snapped. “It is mine right? Since you seem happy to pimp me out in exchange for-“
“Hey!” That would be Virgil. Roman half thought he had left both men behind in his rage after Virgil’s little announcement, but the elf at least seemed to have kept up. He’d reached the table just in time to hear the start of Roman’s rant. “What the hell is your problem Princey?”
“My problem? Oh I’m sorry, I’M not the one signing other people up to sing for their supper without permission Virgil.”
“You like singing for your – we thought you’d want to!”
“Well it would have been nice to have a choice!”
“Virgil. Roman.” That was Logan, it had taken longer for the shorter man to force his way through the crowd but he wasted no time now in inserting himself into Romans business. “whatever this is… it’s not about putting on a show.”
He turned to the other two. Virgil scowling, Patton wide eyed.
“He had an…episode in the market.”
“Excuse me?” Roman shouted.
“Roman, whatever disturbed you, you practically ran away.”
“Well perhaps I had simple grown tired of looking at your face? Had you considered that?”
He turned his back to Logan, rounding on Patton again: “Now, give me the-“
Patton already had his hand out, wrought iron key resting loosely in his palm.
“We’re on the fourth floor.” he said calmly as Roman snatched it from him. “First door once you get up the stairs.” Roman spun on his heel only to find Virgil blocking his path.
“Move.” Roman hissed.
“What is wrong with you?” Roman narrowed his eyes. Virgil looked angry. Looked one second away from telling him to sit down, shut up, stop causing a fuss. He wondered if he could get past him without using his sword.
“I’ll bring you up some food in a bit,” Roman blinked glancing back at Patton, startled. The warrior still hadn’t moved from the table - admittedly no easy task in the cramped corner- and was looking at him calmly.
“I don’t want anything” Roman muttered, sullen.
“But you might later.” Patton smiled at him. Not knowing how to respond Roman turned back to Virgil. The elf glanced between the two, chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, before sighing and stepping to the side. Not fast enough to prevent Roman from knocking his shoulder with his own as he pushed past however.
It wasn’t as satisfying as he hoped.
**
At a guess, the room was normally meant for storage not guests. Two rickety looking beds had been shoved in, so close together they might as well have been one. There was one small table forced between the end of one bed and the wall, with a basin of water perched on top. Someone, presumably Patton, had organised their bags neatly at the end of the beds. Roman’s was at the far end, closest to the window. Then Patton, then Virgil with Logan closest to the door, next to the only built in shelf where a candle had been left for the night. Roman would be able to wake with the dawn, as he liked to do, and Logan would have light for the longest to stay up and read.
Romans lute was not on the floor with his pack. Instead he found in had been placed on the bed itself, propped up on his pillow, away from any potential harm.
Whatever righteous anger he had been able to hang on too as he stomped upstairs dropped out of him now like a stone from a cliff. Without it, the despair he had felt in the market came rushing back. He sank down right there by the door, bringing his knees up to his chest as he’d done in the forest. As he used to do in Julius’ room.
He almost wished Julius was here – at least he would tell him not to cry.
The through was so absurd he let out a weak snotty laugh and buried his head in his arms.
He needed to leave Steveange.
He didn’t want to leave them.
But they had planned to stay for a week at least, hopefully longer.
Convince them to leave early? Except he couldn’t explain why. Find them a job out of the city? How? When the coronation and accompanying celebrations were over it would be easy enough to find a traveling group in need of a little extra protection, but for now no one was leaving.
They’d been excited to come. Virgil want to try the city baths, famed for their heated pools and soothing water. Logan had been talking about the library for half the trip. Patton was just excited to explore the city itself, meet the people and try the food. He loved when they stopped in busier towns but it was a rarity.
There was no way Roman would be able to convince them to leave just because he wanted to.
Roman did what other people wanted. It was all he knew how to do.
And even if he had a convincing reason…well, they probably didn’t want him around anymore anyway.
He scrambled up, grabbed the first pillow he could reach and buried his face in it to muffle a scream of frustration which turned into more sobs.
He was so pathetic.
Since he’d left home, he’d kept his memories, kept Romulus, buried as deep as he could. But now it was like Romulus was just under his skin. Ready to jump out If he let himself slip. With all his anger and hurt and fear.
Romulus was a liability.
Romulus was a murder. Or would be. If Roman couldn’t think.
He stepped over to his pack, still hugging the pillow to him like a teddy bear, and started to review the contents. He didn’t need to take all of this with him, surely? Half of it wasn’t even his, their belongings having become more and more intertwined the longer they travelled.
The healing salve was rightfully Virgil’s, the soft shirt he wrapped himself in during cold nights was actually Patton’s, at least one of the notebooks belonged to Logan.
He opened the nearest book to check, but instead of Logan's neat lists his own sloppy scrawl stared back at him. Song lyrics and passing thoughts and, on the next page, an unfinished sketch. It was of Virgil, hand covering his mouth but eyes betraying his laughter. The other pages, he knew contained scribbles of all three of them. He flicked back and found his favourite, the page marked with a yellowed leaf he couldn’t remember picking up.
It showed all three in one sketch. Logan, sleeping and so looking years younger, head pillowed on Virgil’s thigh. Virgil was turned towards Patton, rolling his eyes as if to say ‘can you believe this?’ but making no move to actually shift scholar off him. Patton was laughing, he was the most well rendered of the three figures, you could almost see his shoulders shaking.
Roman looked at it for a moment. Then slowly replaced the book mark and closed it. This would have to come with him.
A knock at the door startled him so badly he dropped the book, which bounced under the bed.
“Kiddo? Can I come it?”
Fuck.
Patton. He had -he had been so, so unbelievably rude to Patton.
His first instinct, which was admittedly not a good one, was to jump out of the window.
Roman took a deep breath. Focusing on the mundane task of sorting items had cleared his head somewhat. He was still a little shaky but his eyes were dry. He knew what would be expected of him now - Romulus had spent most of his life apologising.
“Come in.” he croaked and stood, squaring his shoulders.
Patton entered alone, two bowls of something that smelled delicious cradled in his arms.
Roman ignored the sudden spike of hunger – the fruit tart seemed a long time ago now- and bowed from the waist. He kept his back ramrod straight and bent low enough that it quickly became uncomfortable. It was the kind of bow Romulus would only have given his father or elder brother.
“Patton, I owe you my most humble apology I-“
“Roman I am so sorry.”
“The way I spoke to you was the height of disrespect and unprin- ungentlemanly behaviour I – wait, what?”
He straightened up and looked at Patton, confused. “Why are you sorry?”
“Roman, I – wait hold on.” Patton handed him one of the bowls and turned to close the door. “Do you mind if we sit?” he asked and Roman nodded, smiling despite himself. Patton was the politest person he had ever met.
Once they were both seated, Patton’s bad leg stretched out in front of him, Patton looked at him seriously.
“Roman you were right downstairs. We should never have promised you’d perform without asking you first - no it's true!”
But Roman was already shaking his head. “Patton you were fine, you know I love singing! I was the one acting like, like some sort of beast I-“
“I know you love singing but that doesn’t mean we get to pick and choose when-“
“But I wanted to perform as much as possible whilst we were here- I’d told you that!”
“-especially after travelling all week. We were, er, presumptuous.”
Roman stared at him.
“Unlike this soup, which is pre – scrumptious.”
Patton beamed at him. Roman groaned.
“Anyway I’m sorry for letting you stew-“ he held up the bowl again waggling his eyebrows “- up here for so long, but we needed to make things right with the landlord.”
Roman, who had been starting to relax under the force of two puns in a row, tensed again. “What things?”
Patton smiled. “We paid the difference – you don’t have to perform! Uhh unless you want to of course, but it’s your choice.” He nodded decisively whilst Roman gaped.
“b-but isn’t it expensive?”
Patton just shrugged, “Well, the last job paid well didn’t it?”
“Not that well!”
“Aw c’mon kiddo, what’s the point of having money if we don’t spend it? Right?”
Not knowing what to say. Roman shoved a spoonful of stew into his mouth without tasting it. Guilt turning the meal to ash.
“Patton…how many days did you pay for?”
“The rest of the week! And there’s still enough to have some fun at the markets, don’t worry, we can all have a – hey!” Patton put his bowl down, shuffling closer to put one warm hand on Roman’s knee.” Roman, hey kiddo, buddy what’s wrong?”
Roman found, quite to his surprise, that he was trembling. He followed Patton's example and put the bowl carefully on the floor before digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I…can’t Pat. I can’t stay here. I have to go.”
“Go?” Patton looked at him with confusion clear in his big brown eyes, “But why kiddo? You don’t like the inn?”
Roman groaned shaking his head “not the inn. The city. I’m not – I can’t – if ‘m here it- “ he let out a whine of frustration, hating his curse heavy tongue.
Never tell anyone about our conversation.
“I just-“ My brother is coming and if I see him I-
“If – “ my brother is coming and he won’t be alone. There are people who know who I really am and I –
“Okay.”
Romans head snapped up.
Patton still had a frown on his face but when he looked at Roman his eyes were as serious as Roman had ever seen them. “If you can’t tell me the details it’s fine but-“ he lent forward, “Roman, are you safe here?”
Without breathing, Roman shook his head. No.
Patton nodded and squeezed his knee. “Well then of course we’re not staying.” Hesitantly, he lifted his arm and rested one large hand on the back of Romans neck. Forcing their eyes to meet. “Whatever it is – we will help you. You know that don’t you?”
Embarrassingly, Roman felt his eyes filling with tears.
“We’ll leave in the morning.” Patton told him. Patton stood up, taking Romans congealing stew and his own empty bowl and headed to the door. He paused, one hand on the door handle. “Everything’s going to be okay kiddo.” he smiled, “We love you.”
And he was gone.
For a long moment Roman sat frozen, staring at the closed door.
“Yeah.” He agreed, eventually. “Right.”
Except. They didn’t. Not really.
They loved Roman.
Roman had screamed and insulted them and instead of kicking him out of their group like they had every right to do, they had given up what little money they had just to make Roman feel better.
And Roman was a lie.
Roman was Romulus with a bad haircut. And Romulus was everything they weren’t’ – a stupid, pampered, prince with no power or pride.
Patton might be willing to upheaval their lives just on Roman's say so, But Logan and Virgil were more practically minded. They would want explanations. Might even demand them.
Never tell anyone about your curse. Remove yourself from anyone who might ask you about it and put as much distance between you as you can.
Romulus was a liability.
One they shouldn’t have to deal with.
He strapped his lute to his back and secured his dagger in a hidden pocket that Virgil had taught him how to sow. Everything else he left, including, after a moments hesitation, his sword. He had been training Logan to use it, on and off, and whilst the scholar was no solider he was improving. At the very least, it would be some source of protection until they could hire another swordhand for their travels.
The climbing plants he had noticed on the way in made getting down from the window much easier than he had originally anticipated. Dusting off his hands he skirted the building, taking care to avoid the large windows of the main hall, until he found the entrance to the the stables.
He wasn’t proud of it, but he had stolen before when he first left home. He would have to again now in order to put some distance between the city and himself.
It wasn’t his worst plan.
And it might even have worked, had they not already been waiting for him.
When Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy. Even now, under the weak light of a covered lantern and with almost fifteen years distance from the memories, he still recognised him instantly.
“Good evening, your highness.” The Marquis smile was as dazzling as he remembered, although his eyes were colder.
He had no army with him, and no weapon that Roman could see. But then, why would he need one?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Untangled | Chapter 08: A Pirate’s Deal
Caine snickered, flipping the coin lazily up and down her fingers.
“Don’t try to be coy with me, honey, we both know it’s not your strong suit. You’re lucky it was only me who saw you bungle your cover up at the bar. Trust me, I could smell the entitlement on you even before you asked Toy for bimberry wine -”
Cass glared, snatching the coin out of the woman’s hand and stuffing it back in her pouch with the rest. “Sorry, not all of us enjoy chugging fermented cereal.”
“Sorry, not all of us can afford anything else.”
“Ha! Please! As if you’ve ever worked a single honest day in your entire -”
Caine raised a single brow. Daring her to continue.
a Cassandra-centric Tangled rewrite, inspired by the series
Any updates on I Just Wanna Dance With You? I’m obsessed with all your writing!!
so it’s coming along. just kinda slowly. currently about 5,000 words in, but also only three little bullet points into the outline, so it’s definitely going to be a pretty long chapter. not entirely sure when it’ll be done and posted but... soon? hopefully.
(the tiniest of sneak peaks to tide you over)
“We should talk, Harry,” she says softly. It’s late, the moon shining in through a side window. His arm is resting against her, his palm splayed out against her bare skin. He’s drawing patterns into it, his fingertips light.
“Talk about what?” he asks, but she thinks he already knows. He has to.
The Phantom of the Arena | Chapter 40: Bravo Bravo
Read on: FF.net | AO3
I could write a sensitive author note above this, but I think there’s a gif that just covers everything I could say a lot better:
And the awesome @rannvadraws already made a sketch to go with it!!!! Make sure to send her your thanks because it’s awesome and it summarises the vibe of the chapter SO well.
Discord for discussions and questions
The Phantom of the Opera Youtube Playlist For those of you unfamiliar with the musical, please find my preferred versions of the songs here!
Awesome Video Trailer by an Awesome Fan!
Summary: Dragons and Berk have been at war for generations; one year ago however, strange things started to happen during raids, which cannot possibly be the work of a dragon. Refusing to let her village be haunted by what they call the Phantom of the Arena, Astrid sets out to find the culprit.
Hiccstrid | Hiccup leaves, Phantom of the Opera-inspired AU | Rated M.
