Work Text:
Betty didn’t mind being a late bloomer, exactly. Sure, she had hoped Tamryn would settle during her internship; that she’d learn discover some fundamental truth about herself out there, away from her family, but it wasn’t exactly a problem. So long as Cheryl and Oberon laid off her, she barely even thought about it.
(Betty thinks, privately, that it’s ridiculous people put so much stock in the words of someone who’s soul takes the shape of a little poison frog, no matter how beautiful the both of them are. Betty knows not to say those things out loud.)
Betty’s mother assures her she was a late bloomer, too. That her Calder hadn’t chosen his shape until close to her high school graduation, and she was all the happier for it.
(Betty has heard this story many times. She’s always hated it. As if Alice Cooper could be anything but a fox; as if she would accept anything less than beautiful and cunning. As if she does not praise the delicacy, femininity, of Simon, Polly’s little dove. As if she does not eye Betty and Tamryn warily, when she thinks they cannot see. Betty wishes she knew what she was looking for.)
Betty didn’t mind being a late bloomer, until Veronica Lodge rolled into town. Until Veronica Lodge and her beautiful clouded leopard, emanating class; Veronica and Vinchenzo, V and V, alliteration very trendy in the city don’t you know; roll into Pop’s, drawing all eyes to her, drawing Archie’s eyes off Betty.
(And Betty’s envious then. Of Archie who’s known who he was since he was 13, of Archie who’s Gabbi has been her sweet tempered golden retriever self since before the start of high school. Archie, who never has to dig his nails into his palms when he talks to a beautiful girl for the fear of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t.)
Betty didn’t mind being a late bloomer even then, until the tryouts. Until Veronica stood up to Cheryl, until Veronica promised to be the ice to her fire, until Veronica grabbed her face and kissed her. And in that moment, Betty felt something: unlock, shift, change, forever.
The thing about a daemon’s settling, is it is not obvious from the outside. It is not obvious, if you do not mention it to the people around you. There are no sparks or ethereal glow. There is just the knowledge of Who You Are. Which is why, after practice, instead of going home, like she promised her mother, she texts Kevin:
“What do you know about wolverines?”
And he responds: “Little but way stronger than they should be. Fierce, vicious, wicked teeth and claws. Super angry. They kill wolves and bears sometimes. They can take down shit twenty times their size on the regular, and without help. Why do you ask?”
And what can she say but: “Why do you think?”
And Kevin, well meaning, responds: “Oh!! Congratulations!!”
And thirty seconds later: “Oh god. What will your mom say.”
And at that thought, Betty, more than she ever minded being a late bloomer, minds ever hoping to settle at all.