Chapter Text
The sun is beginning to rise red on the horizon.
It lights dimly on King and Amity as they exit the library. Amity is an employee; she gets the doors to open through more legal means.
They don’t stop to ponder what they just went through back there, both of them stepping methodically towards the front steps. Neither of them says anything. They don’t even want to look at each other. King has his hands back in his pockets, fidgeting.
Luz was right about one thing: he never could’ve seen this adventure coming.
“Thanks for helping clean up.”
Startled out of his thoughts, King nearly trips on the next step, fumbling a hand towards the balustrade to catch himself. Amity either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care: she keeps walking down the stairs like nothing happened.
King heard her, but he doesn’t believe her. “What?”
But Amity has no interest in repeating herself, it seems. She’s made it to the bottom of the stairs, not looking back, and she’s just about to walk away and go home when she’s stopped by the familiar call of, “Amity, wait!”
She cringes. Against her better judgment, she makes herself turn back.
King stands a couple of steps above Amity, hand stuck halfway between reaching out and falling back to his side. He notices this and quickly stuffs the offending hand back in his pocket.
He’s not entirely sure why he called out to Amity. He falls awkwardly silent, except for a single uncertain, “....uh….”
“What?” Amity says it more impatiently.
“....I—” And King stops himself again. Briefly, though: he’s rewinding the events of the night in his head, trying to remember one moment in particular. It got a bit lost in the shuffle at the time, given the circumstances, but now that it’s quiet again and he’s able to think clearly he remembers….
“You…. you said something back there. About Willow?” King looks up at Amity. Confusion and concern both. Maybe a little curious, too. “What did you mean?”
He can see Amity mentally rewinding the night, too, and when she lands on the moment he’s referencing she visibly winces, her brow creasing like she’s been jabbed in the ribs. She hesitates before answering, words coming out measured. A prepared response.
“....Willow was my friend, once. A…. long time ago.” It’s what she settles on, and it’s all she wants to give. Abruptly she turns away from King again, starts walking away with even more determination than before. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
Not unless King wants to make it his business. “Willow’s my teacher.”
Amity stops again, brusquely, but she doesn’t turn around. Her hands clench into fists at her sides.
King moves down the last few steps, finally. “You really hurt her feelings.” He wants it to come out angry, to spit venom at Amity, but mostly it just sounds…. frail. Upset. The memory of Willow crying…. “She thinks she’s a loser, because of you.”
“I KNOW!”
Amity finally does whirl around again, and for a minute King thinks the strengthening sunlight must be playing tricks on him, because he swears there are tears shining in Amity’s eyes.
“I know I’m terrible, alright?! I get it! But don’t act like you’re so innocent, either!” She stomps back towards King, close enough that he stumbles back up onto the bottom step, clumsy. “You go around picking fights, making everyone miserable!” Her fists come up, then she throws them down again in her frustration. Tiny sparks of purple magic fly from her splaying fingertips. “Making me miserable! As if you can even understand—!”
Amity draws in a sharp, sharp breath. Closes her eyes and lets it out slow, shivery. King has one foot on the next step now and his own breathing pauses, his mouth clamped shut not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because he’s scared of what he might say if he lets himself.
“But, whatever.” Amity’s voice is low but dripping contempt. Exhaustion, too. A little. “You’re just a little kid. What do you know?”
“....I know.”
Two words. Quiet. The tense line of Amity’s shoulders softens.
King’s staring hard at the steps below him. Hands clenched. There’s more he could say. A lot more. But what would be the point?
Two words. Quick. Concise. And nothing else.
“....Well. Maybe we both have some work to do.” Amity doesn’t elaborate.
She’s moving away again, and this time King doesn’t try to stop her, just watches her leave with no more words passed between them.
A rogue ray of light from the rising sun hits King right in the eyes and he turns away from it, blinking away the starburst. Blinking away more than just that.
It strikes him suddenly that he didn’t think Amity had actually caught his name.
King sighs, then yawns. He’s been up all night. It’s about time he started heading back.
Head back he does, walking tiredly back to the Owl House through the dawn-quiet woods. The trees are limned with early morning light.
He kicks at the leaves on the path as he goes, no real reason other than mild amusement. After the night he’s had, he could use it.
It’s because King is looking down at the ground watching leaves scatter that he sees the massive shadow suddenly falling over the path when it does. He stops, confused, muttering a soft, “What the…?”
An equally massive gust of wind abruptly blows in from behind him, nearly knocking him forward. He stumbles, still not fully recovered from the night’s events—he’s freaking out. “What the—?” He looks up.
Up in the sky, only a few feet above the tree line, flies a giant creature that can best be described as a woman’s face with wings coming out of it. Bat wings. The ends of her long, sleek black hair brush against the tops of the trees, leaves scattering with every gust sent by the flapping of her wings. “Whoa….” breathes King, mixed awe and panic. Then: “WHOA!” because he just realized where she’s headed.
The creature is flying straight towards the Owl House. King hurries to catch up.
He makes it to the clearing just in time to witness her landing in the front yard, more dust and leaves kicking up as she slows her descent. She’s humming softly as she does, smiling, and she’s just starting to push the front door open when she’s interrupted by someone shouting, “HEY!”
She looks down and around until she finds the source of the shout: it’s King, walking nervously out of the tree line towards her. To her, he just looks like a little boy who’s up way past his bedtime.
“Hello,” she manages, friendly enough. Her smile widens.
Maybe King is getting used to seeing monsters around all the time. Curiously he says, “You must be the Bat Queen.”
The Bat Queen nods affirmatively. “Yi yi, the Bat Queen is I.” Another smile down at King. He’s just the most adorable little thing.
Back to her previous task: the Bat Queen shoves the front door open again and King follows her inside—right after she squeezes herself in through the doorway first.
Inside, the house is still a mess. Heck, it’s even a little bit worse than when King left it. But unlike this morning, the place is quiet, save for the occasional interruption of Eda’s snoring.
Speaking of: Eda, Luz, and Hooty lay in a haphazard bundle on the sofa, Eda splayed out with Luz draped over her head and Hooty wrapped around her shoulders like a neck pillow. All of them are fast asleep, sleeping like they don’t intend to wake up again for at least a week. Snuggled up tight in Eda’s arms is the source of their exhaustion:
The Bat Queen’s babies sleep peacefully, their wings pulled up around themselves like blankets. One of them sighs contently in its sleep, and okay, fine, King has to admit that they’re kind of cute when they’re like this.
A sudden whistly hum from behind him—the Bat Queen calls to her babies and they wake almost instantly hearing their mother, yawning, stretching their wings, making sweet little chirping noises. Flying up out of Eda’s arms; they don’t bother to go around King when they do and he has to duck to avoid them crashing into him. Forget what he thought two seconds ago—babies are awful.
But, there are always things in the Demon Realm that are more awful. Like the noise the Bat Queen makes when she coughs up a chest full of snails out onto the carpet. It’s very…. wet. King has the misfortune of looking straight at the Bat Queen as she’s doing it. The less said about that the better.
“For troubles, Eda is owed one.” The Bat Queen smiles down at King again, endeared by his revulsion. He is just so cute. All three of her babies are snuggled into her hair, settling down to continue their nap.
“Nn…. no prob, Bob.” King’s still too wigged out to manage more than common courtesy.
With that, the Bat Queen nods, appreciative. Her babies chirp a goodbye and the four of them are off, out the door of the Owl House and up into the brightening lilac sky of the Boiling Isles, a dark speck flying farther and farther away.
King takes a moment to shake off the horror. Eugh. On second thought, maybe there are still things in the Demon Realm he’ll never get used to. Like the weather. Or the almost dying every week.
A snuffly little sigh from the sofa. “Hey, little guy.”
Luz lifts her head up from her spot atop Eda, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Yawning, she rubs at them. Crosses her arms over Eda’s face and rests her chin in them, settling down cozy into Eda’s hair. Eda grunts in her sleep, but says nothing.
“You’re back late!” Despite the exhaustion in her voice Luz’s eyes are bright and happy, always so bright. “You missed one heck of an adventure.”
What was it that Luz had said earlier? But I bet that somewhere under that sour lemon drop outside….
It’s one thing to admit that Eda was right about something. Grown-ups never know what they’re talking about but they like to pretend they do anyway, just because they can. But Luz….
Luz’s eyes follow King as he trundles over to the sofa, shoves away Eda’s legs (another grunt from her), and drops himself into it, heaving a tired sigh as he sinks into the faded cushions. In the back of his mind he sees Amity’s shadow walking away from him into the hazy sunrise.
(You’re just a little kid. What do you know?)
(....I know)
Another sigh.
Luz doesn’t have to pretend to know things.
He turns to look at her.
“You did, too.”