Chapter Text
Luz burst - no, exploded through the door upon being given permission to enter. The adjacent wall had an endearing amount of dents in it from the number of times she made her entrance this way. As soon as she entered, feet doing that little stompy thing and hands flailing with excitement (one of them holding a rather fragile crystal ball), she launched into an animated, voice-acted, dramatic retelling of the ordering of an online gift for her girlfriend. Buying something on Snailizon was an average task to the ordinary Bonesborough citizen, something done without much thought or consideration. Find the thing, click the item, fudge around with the subscription details, forget about it until it arrives in a form at least halfway resembling what was advertised. Typical Boiling Isles Business.
To a human like her, every experience on the Isles was completely new and novel, and this was no exception. Not even the boiling rain, loud as it was, could drown out the fiery sunshine in her voice as she recounted her story.
All the while Eda listened, that blazing warmth touching her very soul. Leave it to that kid to make even the most mundane task an enthralling tale. Raine paid equally rapt attention, leaning in and not even bothering to hide their interest with frequent interjections of “What happened next?” in between story segments.
As the story went, Luz had been so excited to purchase something for her girlfriend that she’d completely forgotten to figure out what exactly she was gonna get her. She wanted it to be thoughtful - not, like, try-hard - tasteful, and something not too cheap for a rich, classy girl like Amity. And definitely not something she probably owned a thousand replicas of. The obvious solution would be to ask the dang Blight girl what she had and what she’d like. There was little at stake, given the fact that in spite of her wealthy status, she would consider literally anything from Luz to be a rare and important artifact worth guarding with her life for the sole reason it came from the human. Ha, those teenagers. Cool, stoic Eda may’ve been a sap for Raine but she was long past other sappy emotions. So no, those weren’t Luz’s drawings framed on the wall with the most expensive frame she stole. That tentacle-eating contest photo? That was just for show. And what kind of mom experienced connoisseur of crime wouldn’t want her protogee’s first wanted poster hung proud on display?
Those were totally normal, non-motherly things.
“Eda?” Luz’s voice had briefly switched from story-telling mode to a more direct address. “You following so far?” She asked, voice laced with anticipation. Her expanded, gesturing form momentarily shrunk to something more vulnerable, hoping, perhaps a little anxious. “I can rewind a bit if you need.” Something in her tone, her slightly withdrawn body language provoked an ache in Eda. Reflected in the teen witch-in-training were echoes of the older witch’s past encounters with rejection. How anyone could consciously reject Luz, Eda would never understand.
“Nah, you’re good, kid.” She spoke assertively. As proof that she paid at least 50% attention, she recalled, “You were saying somethin’ about stalking her old cliques’ penstagrams for ideas?”
“And you mentioned some Critter Timelines,” Raine supplied helpfully.
“Not stalking,” Luz clarified, only mildly indignant. “Just a quick skim-through here and there.”
The Owl Lady couldn’t resist a slight barb, “Uh huh. How much time didya spend ‘not-stalking?’”
Luz chewed her lip. She didn’t answer.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Eda,” Raine elbowed her a little.
“What?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t do the same when we were younger. Remember back in our Hexside days…” Luz darted to the edge of the nest. Almost instantly, she switched from avid narrator to wide-eyed consumer of “Clawthorne lore.”
Oh Titan no, Luz did not need access to more embarrassing information than she already knew or was going to know. Deftly, Eda interrupted, “I think Luz had a story to finish first?”
“Oh!”
Immediately she sprung to feet, launching right back into her retelling. Turns out, Luz had eventually decided on a pair of boots for Amity.
“I know, pretty ironic,” she admitted, given the Bossy Boots nickname Eda’d coined for her sometime ago. Apparently it stuck, and Eda couldn’t wait to see the look of a disgruntled smirk-not-smirk that rich chick would wear the next time she and Eda crossed paths and the title of Boots was even more appropriate. “But I saw them and I just knew, y’know? Take a look!” She showed the two of them an image of the pair she bought. “Aren’t these awesome?!”
Eda squinted at the display on the crystal ball. A pair of fleshy fuschia shoes stared back. The subtle texture looked good, accentuated here and there with a few gems. As an experienced thief, Eda could tell at glance that these jewels were in fact real, and these boots were…
“Boocci Hand Shoes,” Raine whistled low. That was the expensive brand, Eda would know - she’d stolen from them long enough to give them a literal run for their money. “Quite the steal,” they directed that last part at her rather than Luz.
“You know it,” She said, roping a casual arm around Raine.
“Yep,” Luz rocked back and forth on her heels. “I thought ‘Hand Shoes’ was just a funny word for boots. Eheh,” she laughed uneasily, “Turns out when you guys say it’s made from finger-flesh-fabric you mean that uh, literally.” She swallowed uncomfortably. “With… actual dead fingers.” She fidgeted with her own live fingers, tapping colored nails against the glossy surface of the crystal ball as if she was somehow in danger of having her own fingers separated from her hand and such a fidget would protect her.
“Dead?” Eda asked incredulously. “Kid I hate to break it to ya but if the fingers ain’t wiggling at purchase it’s definitely a knock-off you’ve bought.” Which would be strange, since the pinkish tones in the picture seemed to indicate that the flesh was alive at harvesting, as it should be. Unless it was edited with illusion magic…
“To be honest, I kinda just assumed they were dead because…” Her face cycled through a familiar reel of expressions. Shock that, once again, a human term did not align with the Boiling Isles equivalent; fear at the implications; a short hollow stare. After cycling through the carousel of emotions, she remembered that there were others in the room and with that, smothered her reaction with a lilted, “Ah, right. Boiling Isles,” that concluded the process until nighttime when she would ramble off to herself about how weird it was when she thought no one could hear her. She wasn’t exactly quiet; she had done this many times before.
Raine looked to Eda, unsure, as if asking if they ought to say something. They weren’t quite as used to this as she was. She shook her head. The kid was strong enough to handle it on her own.
“You were saying?” Eda prompted instead.
Right on cue, Luz launched back into her story. She gestured and motioned with wild abandon, her movements occasionally accentuated by a peal of thunder. Continuing where she left off, upon finding the perfect boots, Luz went through the trials and tribulations that came as a packaged deal with online purchases. Inconveniences like haggling for prices, Snail-Wail Scams (Should’ve remembered to warn her about those), and service delays due to bad weather were to her not mere nuisances but perilous obstacles to be overcome in the name of love, and she depicted them as such. As she placed her order, she described in detail the agony of waiting, waiting, waiting for the package to deliver. And even that boring agony she had colored with vivid recollections of how she passed the time. Watching the rain was described as “surveying the cascade of steam and death coming from the heavens above.” Rereading Azura with all its deathly flowery language was “indulging in intercultural literature” and even staring at the walls was “watching the living room live on through the gloomiest of days.”
Was there anything she couldn’t liven up with that vivid mind of hers? By and by, that spark of fondness continued to glow within Eda.
That is, until she caught Luz’s gaze occasionally flickering away from Raine and her to other parts of the room. The Owl Lady’s room never was and never would be completely organized or devoid of scattered rat bones, haphazardly discarded “whenever” laundry, or leftover takeout. Nevertheless, this was not the usual startled-Luz reaction to, say, a horrifying spider the size of her head lurking in the corner or greasy-faced screaming bat-child; no, in those instances Luz had long abandoned really trying to mask her unsettled reactions in the name of politeness.
This was different. She’d fixate on a certain part of the floor or something beneath her, and her upbeat narration would briefly stall and trail off before she shook her head and moved on to the next part of her admittedly epic regaling of the events Eda missed while in her self-inflicted isolation. Eda was about to interrupt and ask what she was looking at when the memory finally came back to her; the reason why she’d given Luz the snails to go do something better than–
Without breaking eye contact, she tucked her bandaged foot under the blanket and tucked the folds over the rip in her skirt where a shard had been. She positioned herself in front of the mound of mug pieces Raine had swept aside. Maybe Luz hadn’t seen it just yet. Maybe with her in the way, she wouldn’t notice it.
…or did moving in the way just draw attention to it more? Eda hoped it was the former. If it was the latter, well…
Now she remembered why she originally wanted Luz on the other side of that now wide-open door - an open entrance that anyone could walk into. No one else needed to be dealing with this. Raine and she had already worked out a tentative solution and ground rules; she didn’t need anyone else’s pity or questions. Dumping on her partner had been exhausting enough.
“And just when I thought all hope was lost,” Luz’s voice cut into her thoughts. “Pause for dramatic effect,” Luz instructed out loud. Another realization hit. The vocal indicator to pause dramatically was Luz’s signature phrase meaning her story was reaching a climax. That meant Eda had missed a good chunk of that story, a story she’d gone out of her way to make happen herself. The bitterness she felt at herself ate at the spark of fondness within.
“I got THIS!” Luz declared, proudly showcasing Amity’s confirmation message photo of her wearing the boots. She bit back a snort at the pics. Luz worrying about being a try-hard was silly in comparison to Amity. The pictures looked perfect, too perfect. Not the kind of perfect meant to hide something, but rather the perfect that spoke to hours and hours of dumb, useless perfectionism in getting the lighting, pose, and all that superficial shit right when Luz would’ve probably been just as content, if not moreso, with a blurry picture of an excited tomato-face smile paired with the package, captioned with whatever passed for teenage expressions of excitement on penstagram these days.
Eda analyzed the picture for signs of the hand shoes being counterfeit. The crisp detail of the pic was advantageous for this. Much to her relief, the finger-fabric was already molding to and blending in with the skin of the wearer, and the gemstones were sliding into a glittery mesh as they should be.
“Amity tells me it’s normal,” Luz phrased it more as a question than a statement, quite obviously seeking reassurance.
“Better than,” Eda confirmed. “See the way the mesh is up to her knees? That means the finger-flesh-fabric is doing its job. You got the real deal.”
“Its… job?” Based on the hesitation, Eda could tell she didn’t do nearly as good a job at comforting her as she’d hoped.
“It’s supposed to look that way,” Raine said. “I hear it’s quite the fashion statement these days,” they attempted, equally as unsuccessful.
“It won’t eat her leg,” Eda tried being more blunt this time. That elicited a relieved sigh from Luz.
“Phew. Okay. Anyway,” She rocked on her heels again. “That’s what I spent the day doing. Amity was totally stoked to get these, and I couldn’t have done it without you, Eda.” That sent the rush of affection roaring back.
“Don’t mention it, kiddo. You just made my day.” She meant that, too. After a draining-but-necessary conversation with Raine, she needed levity and she needed it bad. She was looking forward to following it up with a good meal and some much-desired downtime in a nest not made of twigs and bones but folded blankets atop the lumpy living room couch.
Luz tapped her fingers on the glass of the crystal ball. Her shoulders squared and chest tense, she asked, “How, uh… How’ve you been holding up?”
Resisting the urge to deflect, lie, or joke, she leaned back. “I won’t lie, it’s been rough.”
Her posture shrunk a little tighter.
Eda added, “Don’t worry about it. Raine and I talked, for real. We’re gonna make sure this sorta thing doesn’t happen again. We worked out a plan and everything.”
“It still needs tweaks here and there,” they noted, reaching for Eda’s hand. “But it’s a start and we’re doing it together.”
“Awww,” Luz cooed, smiling until her eyes focused on something just behind Eda. Her grin wavered. “Wait a second.” She stood on her tip-toes. “Is that Raine’s favorite mug?”
Eda’s stomach hit the floor. Shit. “Was,” she answered. “Owl Beast accident. Too much booze and elixir don’t mix, turns out.” She shrugged, actively avoiding Luz’s gaze.
Instead of offering pity or some other disheartened remark, she offered, “I can fix it,” tentatively, as if uncertain whether the effort was offensive to suggest. It wasn’t, but…
“Luz, it’s all right,” Raine comforted. It wasn’t ‘all right’; Eda let them get away with that anyway. She really didn’t need Luz involved in this any more than she already was. “You don’t have to.”
“No, really, I can!” She repeated, more insistent. Loading the crystal ball into one arm, she reached into what she called her ‘Fan E Pack’ and leafed around “I kinda sorta used to break a lot of stuff when I was younger. By accident!” She clarified. “Dishes, clay sculptures, mom’s glasses, fragile stuff like that.” She pulled out a small clear potion with a cap. “Mom and I used to repair stuff like this all the time. It was almost like an arts-and-crafts sort of thing. Going to summer camp, I smuggled in a little superglue just in case I broke something and didn’t wanna tell or get in trouble with the grown-ups.”
What an irony it was that now it was she needing her protogee’s help cleaning a mess Eda’d made herself.
Sensing her mentor’s reaction, Luz soothed, “It’s no biggie. Mamá taught me pretty good. I can figure out how to piece it together no prob. And…” she shuffled her feet slightly. “If you want, we could work on it together.”
“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Raine agreed. Both of them looked to Eda for confirmation and damn was she between a rock and a hard place now. The expectant, hopeful gazes they held drew a “yes” close to the tip of her tongue; she held back on account that, though she felt relatively stable now, she in no way trusted the Owl Beast - really, herself - to be able to handle something so delicate without breaking it even more. On the other hand, her gut already felt like a rotten pile of stones for having these two single-handedly fix something she broke.
Again.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Luz softened.
“I want to,” Eda started. “I just don’t know if I can. I dunno if I’ll make it worse.”
Raine squeezed her hand. “No knowing unless we try, right?” Eda pursed her lips. In spite of herself, she stole a glance at Raine. Their expression spoke to hope with a slight ache. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be us.”
Well Eda couldn’t exactly say no to that one. Once again she fell victim to their titan-damn sappy-ass self. “All right,” she stood up, a little too fast. “You guys wi– woOah!” The world briefly tilted to one side, causing Eda to stumble before Raine’s firm arm quickly reached out and gently yanked her upright. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” Raine smiled.
After picking up the shards, the three of them made their way downstairs. The wound on Eda’s foot once again made itself known to her with every other step, and her gait was embarrassingly unsteady. She found herself leaning heavily on Raine for support, who for their part, was happy to be a shoulder to lean on as long as it meant she was reaching out to them. Fair enough.
As they entered the living room (already equipped with a lit fireplace and fluffy blankets, she noted), she caught sight of King for what was the first time in hours. He was napping quietly as usual; what grabbed her attention was a bandage on his foot mirroring the one on hers. Her chest squeezed.
His tail flicked up and his eyes fluttered open. “Oh, hey Eda!” He wasted no time scampering up to her side and crawling up her leg and into her arms: his natural and rightful position, his secondary portable throne, as he called it. Leaning on Raine, she could only spare one tired, limp arm for the King of her heart,
“Hey little freeloader,” she greeted with no small amount of affection laced in her tired, groggy voice.
“Didn’t you adopt him as your son?” Raine asked, confused.
Eda adjusted her hold of the little furball. “No reason he can’t be both.” She could practically hear the lighthearted eyeroll coming from Luz. She debated bringing up the bandage. Deciding it was best to get it over with, she asked, “What’s with this?” Trying to come across as nonchalant as possible, “Get in a scuffle with one of your minions?” The hope that it was anything except what she thought it was.
The light mood grew heavy once more, confirming her worries. King curled in on her a little.
“What happened?” Raine asked. The fact that they didn’t know either…
Silence hung for a moment.
“You’re not in trouble,” Eda said. “Neither of you.”
After an additional pause, King at last spoke up. “Stepped in some glass.”
“Oh,” was all Eda could muster. She could only fill in the blanks with the faint memory of the cracked glass from earlier.
Welp. Moment spoiled.
“At least now we can be boo-boo buddies,” King offered.
“Boo-boo buddies?” Eda echoed.
“Yeah!” He piped up. “You got a bandage on your foot, I got one on mine. That makes us boo-boo buddies.”
Aw farts, she swore at herself internally. He must’ve seen it when climbing up her. “I guess it does,” she said with not nearly as much of a warm inflection as she would’ve wanted. And truthfully, how could she? King was trying to lighten the mood brought down by injuries she’d brought upon them both by holding things in. The silence persisted.
“Kids,” Raine prompted. “Could you get us started on lunch?” They paused. “Or is it closer to dinner…” they wondered out loud. Time really had gone down a vacuum hadn’t it?
“It’s late, we’re all hungry, and Raine and I can’t cook for shit,” Eda voiced more bluntly.
“Eda!” Despite Raine’s moderately offended glare, they both knew it was true. The titan blessed neither of them with cooking abilities, aside from making basic dishes. Raine constantly second-guessed themself and though Eda’d never admit it aloud, her tendency to seek cheats and shortcuts (“Working smarter, not harder!”) maaaay have almost burned down the kitchen once. Or twice. The third time didn’t count; King and Hooty’s firework match was not on her.
Loathe as she was to admit it, Luz’s mom had raised her well in terms of culinary talents. Luz didn’t cook things the way the people of Bonesborough did; she combined different meats, spices, and herbs in a way Eda would’ve never thought to, often influenced by her “Dominican roots” as she called them. The results were dishes that were usually a little weird to the taste at first but easy to get used to and come to enjoy. And maybe even get a little addicted to.
“Sure thing!” Luz chirped. “What does the cutest couple on the Isles want for dinner tonight?”
King rolled his eyes. “Ew, mushy romance, gross.”
Raine ignored him. “Oh, you!” Raine blushed. “We’re not that cute. A couple of old-timers like us?” They gave Eda’s side a loving squeeze. “We have more vintage appeal than anything. Like an old melody sung anew, a cool refrain sung on a sunny afternoon,” they crooned as rain - the precipitation kind - continued to drone on outside. Eda saw right through their thinly-veiled attempt to fish for compliments. Eda let them get away with this too. Luz was a never-ending fountain of unconditional admiration for the older pair and right now Eda was dying for an ego boost. “The honor of cutest couple goes to you and the young Miss Blight.”
“Awww thanks!” Now it was Luz’s turn to have her cheeks darken. “But you know, there’s nothing quite like seeing an old flame roar back to life like you two! How do you make love last like that?”
Eda was saved from answering by King’s loud groan. “Less mushy talky, more snacky.”
“All right, ya little goober.” Luz extricated the little demon from her arms. The loss of fluffy warmth ached a little. “Let’s go get dinner started.” With a casual “Weh,” King seamlessly transitioned from Eda’s hold to perching atop Luz’s shoulder. Together, the two made their way to do whatever kitchen shenanigans their hearts desired.
As they left, she caught murmurs of, “Wait, did we decide on what’s for dinner?” followed by an assertive, “Cake. Definitely surprise cake.” and then “That wasn’t it… but maybe for dessert…”
The rest faded out of Eda’s earshot. She allowed the pleasant nostalgia to linger. Titan damn, she had the best kids.
When the two youngsters were out of sight, Raine spoke, “Eda,”
“Mm?”
Their expression was mildly concerned. “You’re beating yourself up on the inside. I can see it.”
“Guilty as charged,” she shrugged with a lopsided grin.
“You don’t need to.”
Don’t I? She almost said. A little remorse was in order for the shit she put everyone through, wasn’t it?
As if hearing her thoughts, “I forgive you, you know that? We talked, we made a plan, and all that’s left for you is to enjoy the evening and the kids. You’ve already paid your price. Don’t keep paying what you don’t owe.”
“But you’re still hurting, aren’t you?” She pointed out. “Did you know about King’s…” she couldn’t bring herself to say it, so she pointed down to her bandaged foot.
“No. I think it happened while I was tending to you. I thought I cleaned the countertop thoroughly. I must’ve missed a shard,” they lamented.
She sighed. “I don’t even remember the glass breaking.” At most, she could recall a spiderweb crack crawling up the glass. She didn’t feel it break. Then again, she couldn’t really “feel” in the normal sense yesterday either.
They nodded.
Nothing more was said.
What more was there to say?
Raine guided her to the couch, upon which Eda flopped.
“Dramatic much?” Raine said with an amused lilt.
Their woman returned, “And how would you go about it, O Dignified Couch-Sitter?”
They thought for a moment, carefully placed the mug shards on the table, and then, doubly dramatically, flopped beside her, limbs spread haphazardly throughout and arms draped around her. “That’s how.” They hugged her with one arm and with the other pulled a nearby blanket over them both.
“I admire your technique,” Eda complimented.
“I admire you.”
Eda’s eyes widened. Her cheeks flushed. “You do?”
“You know the answer to that.”
Before the doubt could take hold she answered, “Yeah. I do.” The truth of the matter was that if they didn’t, they’d already proven themself capable of walking out before. They did not. They negotiated boundaries, worked through their issues and saw no need to leave. So, definitively, Eda decided to take them at their word for once in her damn life.
From there the two of them slipped into comfortable silence, a silence nothing like the night before. This one was filled with soft light and pleasant textures cradling her skin and the company of others. Eda snuggled into their cozy embrace and dipped into a liminal space, highlighted by the occasional musical hum coming from Raine.
It felt like no time at all had passed when she caught a whiff of something good coming from the kitchen. If she had the energy to investigate the scent she would’ve gotten up. Not long after the thought, she heard the plink of a plate set before her.
“Bone appetit!” Luz gestured proudly to the food. Eda sat up and gazed upon the Clawthorne-style blood sausage draped in blood blood sauce with a side of “tostadas” made from mananas. Luz had no idea that manana was short for man-eating bananas the first time she harvested them last week, and had the scrapes and bruises to prove it.
“Luz, this looks wonderful!” Raine cheered.
She hadn’t realized she was so hungry until the scent really hit her. “I’ll say,” Eda struggled to hold back the Owl Beast from devouring the entire entree (including the plate) in one large chomp. In the end she settled for not waiting for anyone else and beginning to, as civilly as she could, dig in. No other prompt needed, the three of them followed suit.
Eda remembered faintly that there should be one more with them, but that thought was far from her mind as she dug into the incredible flavors before her. The savory sausage paired well with the tangy flavor of the sauce; the tostadas made a solid base that made the other gustatory sensations blend together nicely. Unsurprisingly, Eda was the first to finish her plate and lick it spotless, followed by Luz and finally Raine (they were always one to savor the food). Eda had no such patience.
Luz stood up with a mischievous grin. “Sooo,” she rocked on her heels. “Anyone up for desser–”
“YES.” Eda confirmed with embarrassing volume. She cleared her throat and shrunk in on herself a little. Her hunger had yet to be fully satiated.
“Yes please,” Raine said.
“I was hoping you’d say that. Back in a bit!” Luz turned and headed back for the kitchen. She returned with a cake so large she had to wheel it in. “Oh my,” she wondered aloud, innocently. “Whatever could be inside this large confection…?”
They leaned their face on their hand. “I wonder.”
Eda already knew. Even if she didn’t overhear, she remembered loading King in the last time he thought of making a surprise cake. She wouldn’t spoil the surprise nor would she explain what happened that last time either.
Predictably, King burst through the top of the cake, eliciting a cry of surprise and glee from Raine as he announced his royal presence and offered cake to all his loyal subjects - an offer everyone gleefully accepted. The only presence not offered anything was the piles of shards on the table, whom everyone was happy to ignore. Eda herself tried not to pay it too much mind as they ate.
Like the dinner, the cake was equally delicious and disappearing just as fast, mostly thanks to the OB’s irrepressible appetite. Oh well. As long as it was actual food she ate and not playground swings and slides, she wouldn’t complain.
Conversation was light and easy, tactfully avoiding the subject of Eda’s habits and focusing on easier subjects to digest. First up was an abridged retelling of Luz’s online ordering endeavor, this time for a royal audience in addition to the old-timers. King could complain about the mushyness of romance all he liked; he, too, fell victim to Luz’s knack for storytelling and dramatic flair. Raine held the same reactions as before. Eda could just watch Luz do whatever and it’d be all the same to her (not in a negative way).
(The pile of shards had nothing to contribute. Eda continued to pay it no mind).
After Luz’s story once again concluded, it was King’s turn to tell a story. He’d spent the day working on a revised version of Ruler’s Reach, an old novel the kids had published, this time with a more collaborative outlook on the whole thing. When Raine asked for a summary or a selection, the two youngsters were all too happy to read an excerpt, briefly abandoning their cake consumption and acting out the roles of Luzura and Ruler with passion as they warred against Boo-los, an evil emperor who’d taken conquest of the land. The characters were quite glaringly projections of the authors. That didn’t make them any less interesting. If anything, it was fun to see what Luz and King thought of themselves. Their flaws, their strengths, and everything in between. Luzura’s death scene of falling off a bridge was a little hard to watch, though. The writing was especially well-done in that scene, for rather unfortunate reasons. Raine studied Eda’s expression with a questioning glance. She nodded and gave their hand a squeeze. If it got to be too much, she’d say so. She was rewarded for holding out when Luzura, in a totally foreseeable twist, made her triumphant resurrection with the help of Ruler.
Granted, in the event it was based off of, King was nowhere near the scene. Eda didn’t mind the inaccuracy. The less it reminded her of the real deal, the better.
The kids concluded their lengthy but enjoyable performance with a bow. It wasn’t so much an excerpt so much as an abridged(?) retelling. Raine gave thunderous applause. Eda clapped with moderate but sincere fervor.
“Bravo, you two!” The bard congratulated them. “What a wonderful show! I could practically hear the score writing itself as I listened”
“Thank you, thank you,” King kept bowing. “I am pretty great, aren’t I?” Luz cleared her throat. He stepped aside, motioning to his human co-actor-slash-writer, “And so is the amazing Luzura, without whom this show would not be possible!”
“Good going, kiddos.” Eda said. Following the conclusion of the nightly entertainment came the renewed feasting of the cake. The shards did not consume the cake; rather they gnawed at the edges of Eda’s soul.
Eventually, when plates were cleaned and sugar highs wore down, they addressed the giraffe in the room once more: the shards. Luz and King wasted no time sorting through the largest pieces and figuring out which ones went with which, piecing it together like a puzzle. Holding everything in place while attempting to super-glue it together proved difficult; Raine offered to hold it in place with careful and quiet bard magic.
Eda, at first, did not contribute. At first, no one called it out. Raine glanced her way a few times. She didn’t respond. Her attention was fixed on the pieces before her. They didn’t press. Aside from quiet questions of which shard went where and Raine’s faint hum, the atmosphere was oddly, almost reverentially, silent.
To say it was uncomfortable was an understatement. It was quiet, devoid of music or laughter, just like…
Raine held up the shard with the handle with their pinky extended. “I’m glad we’re getting to spend some quali- tea time together.” To retain the spell, they said it in a sing-song voice.
Oh.
“It’s shard sometimes,” Luz held up another fragment and then placed it on another glued-down piece. “But we gotta try, right?”
Oh no.
King stuffed his face with another mound of pastry. “I wouldn’t call it shard. It's really a piece of cake when you think about it.”
Ohhhh no she knew what this was and she hated it. Not the regularly scheduled torture of Comedy Hour - these spontaneous “Pun Runs” as they were called, filled Eda with a unique pit of dread. They could never be predicted. Once they started, they couldn’t be stopped. Easily the worst consequence of introducing her partner to the Owl House and its inhabitants. Why, titan, after everything you put me through do you subject me to this.
Eda didn’t even try to suppress the groan that came from her. Everyone gave her variations of the same shit-eating grin at having gotten exactly the reaction they were looking for. They continued their torment.
“Oh why the long face, my sweet?” they sang, infusing the agony of awful humor with sweet melody, blending both together in a perversion of that which was once untainted with cringey quips. Did that even count as a pun? “Don’t you know you’re just my cup of tea~?” Eda had to bite back the traitorous grin that threatened to spread across her cheeks. She settled for blowing them a snarky raspberry. They wiggled their brows and, oh titan, she couldn’t with that face. Against her will, a chuckle slipped out of their lips. King rolled his eyes while Luz swooned.
“I think I’d rather be mugged than watch this,” King complained as he attached another piece. The mug was starting to look more and more like a cup. From the bottom up, they were about a third of the way there.
“Can’t help it when those two are stuck like glue,” Luz sighed.
“Boooo,” King gave her a thumbs (or rather claw) down. “You’re not even trying! That one was low quali- tea!”
“You just sipped off Raine’s tea-tastic pun!” Luz cried out in offense.
This was truly unbearable. “Titan toes, you even argue in puns.”
“That’s the beau- tea of it, dear,” Raine crooned.“Barbs so sweet they draw a tear.” Another piece floated into place and sealed itself onto the forming cup.
“Ughhhh.”
Just like the storm in the background, the torment in the foreground did not let up the rest of the evening. For the grievances Eda inflicted upon all them, she was being given a sentence far worse than petrification or deserting her:
Punishment, “humor” in a very loose sense with lazily constructed jokes and repetitive wordplay so bad it circled back around to being bearable, borderline good.
…
Oh titan they really got to her didn’t they?
Further evidence of her worn defenses were the cracks of grins she eventually gave up on smothering and worse still, an occasional laugh or two or even swaying a little to Raine’s spontaneously made song.
Music and laughter...
It was not last night after all. The ones she thought were gone, the ones she thought had left her were really, truly, right here. With her. Enjoying each other and existing alongside her. Not because she was a burden - because they wanted her. The collaborated effort to bully her could be forgiven on the count that it was real. Anything was better than last night. This was the best night in a while.
An hour in and Eda noticed that they were almost halfway through piecing together the cup she thought was beyond repair.
“You know,” Raine sang. “I think I’m at piece with this cup. Though it’s not perfect,” Another red-tinted piece drifted into place. “Being with you three fills me up, and I think it’s worth it.” That last part was directed at her, she knew.
Worn down by the good-hearted nature of her insufferable other, she caved. “All right,” she stood up, joints popping as she did, “I’ll join.”
“That’s what’s cup!” Luz gave her a wink and finger guns.
“Welcome to the brew, Eda!” King cheered.
Why did they see fit to make her miserable even as she was caving into their unsaid demands? “Don’t make me regret this.” She could never regret this. Not really.
“We won’t,” Raine hummed with a peck on her cheek. “You’ve already atoned.” A mercifully pun-free sentence.
“Thanks,” she said, turning her attention to the pieces before her. “Now which part do I…?”
Luz handed her a shard. “I think this one goes here,” she pointed to a divot that fit the approximate shape. Eda took in a deep breath as her hand hovered over the spot. Everyone was watching her. They were all waiting for her to put it in. The space between the shard and the glued wall of cup grew closer, cloooser…
Her hand began to tremble, and oh, shit, she was gonna mess this up wasn’t she?
A hand with calloused fingertips rested atop hers. Her fingers stilled. “You got this,” they encouraged her.
She put the piece in. Just like that. It wasn’t even that hard. She simply did it. She could’ve done this so much sooner, had she only reached out. It was all right here, all real, all with her.
Her lungs filled with air, her eyes a little fuzzy. She wanted to contribute something to the banter around her. Something profound, some kinda stupid joke. Instead all that left her was a watery, “Nice.”
“Yeah,” Raine said. “Nice indeed.”
Over the course of the next hour, the cake was depleted, the dishes loaded into the sink (not to be washed until it reeked bad enough for someone to do them), and the cup was as good as it was gonna get.
It barely resembled what it was before. The design was discernible but slightly jumbled in places. The once-smooth surface was now riddled with bumps and clear veins that would allow anyone to see through the container and by proxy the liquid it’d hold someday. Until the glue fully dried, they couldn’t even be sure it was completely water tight.
Carefully, Raine examined the cup. “I like it,” they approved. “It’s us.”
“Me too,” King said.
“Ditto,” Luz agreed.
It’s us.
A simple statement, yet no less true. It was the collaborative effort of all the Owl House inhabitants. Every hand and claw contributed. There might have to be repairs later down the line; at least now there was a road to repairing them. And in spite of the glaring flaws - or maybe even because of them - Eda found herself liking it even better than before.
She squeezed Raine’s hand. “It really is.”
-
The night fell. Everyone was asleep, spare for the boiling rainstorm. Guess the weather theory didn’t check out after all, she thought to herself. She made her way downstairs, mug in hand. In the cover of dark, when no one else was looking, she entered the kitchen and surreptitiously searched the cabinets.
She reached for the drink she told herself she wouldn’t touch.
Not a bottle - a box, something she’d scavenged from a trip to the human world long ago.
Chamomile Tea, the label read. British import.
She'd built a reputation for herself. A woman of sharp edges and hard drinks and badassery. She didn’t do soft, relaxing. She didn’t do quiet downtime. That’d soil her image.
Here, alone, in the dark, no one could see her boil her kettle, steep her bag, and drink her tea, from a cup with wet cracks mirroring the beads of water in her eyes. No one would listen in on her humming that tune from earlier.
Or so she thought, until she heard a harmony leak in tandem with her melody. She didn’t turn around.
“If it isn’t Mx. Music themself.”
“The one and only. Miss me?”
“Only always.”
“Whatcha got there?”
Eda shook the box lightly. Proud tea bags rattled inside. Though they were confined by the box, they were free of poison. She held the steaming cup off to the side. Footsteps approached. The box was picked up.
“‘Beware of Cat Hair?’” they read the label, confused. Tentatively they asked, “That’s not a euphemism for…”
“Nope. I had to pick out all the cat hair in the box when I first snagged it.”
“oH. Huh. Assuming it’s now hair-free…”
“About 90%”
They sat on the counter beside her. “Tea for two, then?”
She answered that question with a sip of her cup and the taste of their lips.
– THE END –