Bittersweet

Rating: G | Category: Gen | No Warnings Apply | Originally posted May 2nd 2021

Swaine & Marcassin

Swaine shrugged, “You’ve never been the kind of person to change things if you liked the way they are.”

"Marcassin nodded. “If it’s not broken I see no purpose in trying to fix it.”

“Just make sure it doesn't become self destructive.”

Marcassin deserves to be a little angry at Swaine methinks. Also these two are really important to me and I find it really easy to connect with them because me and my brother have a really similar age gap.

Oh Marcassin was going to kill him.

Swaine lightly jogged through the streets of Hamelin. The people were out and about, but still mostly gathered up in crowds. The telltale sign of a royal procession that had only recently ended.

A royal procession that Swaine had promised Marcassin that he’d be on with him.

A royal procession that he had just missed.

Swaine entered the castle right through the main entrance, (The guards let him go by, everyone knew who he was at this point), he wove through the halls of the castle and reached the door to Marcassin’s room to knock.

“Marcassin. It's me.”

Marcassin opened the door himself; he stopped wearing that awful boar suit during the processions, but by the time Swaine had gotten to Marcassin’s room had already changed back into his normal clothes anyway. His hair was still done up into a braid down his back and milkmaid braids going up his head. All he did was narrow his eyes and started to close the door.

Swaine tensed and stopped it with his hand. “Marcassin wait!” He exclaimed. His brother huffed, let go of the door, and turned around back into the room. Swaine shuffled in awkwardly and took a seat on the sofa, on the small table in front was already a teapot, a jar of bumbler honey and a cream jug. He turned back to his brother, who was already in front of his mirror back to undoing his hair.

Swaine cleared this throat, “Uh...do you mind if I p-”

“I’m not talking to you.” Marcassin replied, Swaine cringed. His voice was cold, incredibly unlike his usual demeanor. Swaine sighed and made a cup for himself and another for Marcassin, his brother had never changed the way he liked his tea since they were children, it seemed.

Once his hair was down Marcassin took a seat at the sofa as well, though Swaine noticed he sat as far away from him as possible. He took his teacup and reached for the bumbler honey.

“Oh I uh, already made it the way you like it.” Swaine said, Marcassin’s grip on the teacup tightened, but he took a sip anyway. They sat like that, completely silent, for a few minutes, but the air was so tense it felt like hours. Swaine tried looking over to his brother. “Marcassin I-“

“Frankly, I am not in the mood right now to hear your excuses.” His brother scoffed. “It’s already over, there's no use in trying to change things at this point.”

“I’ll be at the next one, I promise.”

With the way Marcassin bristled as that, Swaine immediately regretted what he said.

“You promised you’d be at this one!” He spat. Swaine shrunk into himself, he felt like one wrong step and Marcassin would boil over. It seemed like Marcassin realized this himself as well, suddenly closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“It’s…” Marcassin clenched his fists in his lap, “..frustrating, G-Swaine.” At least he was starting to call him Swaine now.

“I get it.” He replied.

“I have so many things I want to say to you, to ask you. I just…” Marcassin took another deep breath, “...don’t know how to say them out loud. I...I…augh!” The prince held the sides of his head in hands.

“S’alright, Marcassin.” Swaine waved his hand. “If it makes you feel any better I don’t think I’d have any good answers for them anyway.”

Marcassin hummed, “Being broken-hearted does that to you, it seems.”

“Hey!” Swaine playfully nudged his brother with his elbow. “Between the two of us, who managed to still run a kingdom when he was still broken-hearted?”

His brother scoffed, but it was much more light hearted compared to how he did it before. “You think the way I ran Hamelin before Oliver showed up was stable? It wasn’t. Give it another year or two and it would have completely fallen apart at the seams! I-”

Swaine thought it best to drive Marcassin away from a rant. “Your tea’s getting cold.”

“What-oh.” Marcassin looked down at his teacup before picking it back up and taking a sip. “You really...you really did remember the way I liked it didn’t you.”

Swaine shrugged, “You’ve never been the kind of person to change things if you liked the way they are.”

Marcassin nodded. “If it’s not broken I see no purpose in trying to fix it.”

“Just make sure it doesn't become self destructive.”

“Oh?” The prince cocked his head to the side “How so?”

“It may not seem broken to you, but to someone else it may look completely ruined.”

His brother hummed once more. “Ah. I see”

They sat silent again for a few moments, but this one was calmer than the one before. The air felt less dreadful, less hostile. Swaine cleared his throat before turning to his brother again.

“How long were you broken-hearted? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Marcassin clicked his tongue, before looking upwards in thought. “Hmm, most likely starting...five years before you came back.” He cocked his head to the side “You?”

Swaine shrugged, “Probably ‘bout eight” he replied as he took another sip of his tea. It was much closer to ten, but he felt like that was something to keep to himself for now.

“It’s no way to live.” They said in unison. The brothers looked at eachother.

Swaine laughed

Marcassin laughed.

Swaine clicked his tongue. “Look, I’m...sorry, Marcassin. I really am.”

His brother shook his head. “It’s alright, Swaine.”

“It’s really not, but like you said earlier, nothing we can do about it now.”

Marcassin sighed “I suppose you’re right.”

The former thief looked to the ground, hissing through his teeth. “I’ll...be with you at the procession next time, I really promise.”

Marcassin smiled to himself. “You better! Or else I’ll….” he paused for a moment before his eyes lit up. “I’ll hit you over the head with my scepter! There!”

Swaine laughed “Hey, at least I’ll deserve it!” He then pointed at his brother’s teacup again, “Marcassin again, your tea.”

“Ah” Marcassin picked it up and took a sip. “You know, I think I’m starting to prefer coffee a little more instead.”

Swaine finished off his own cup and smiled. “That’s quite alright.”