Chapter Text
Hunter toyed with the fabric of the blanket, looping it around his fingers and just… staring at it. It was purple, a shade somewhere between violet and lilac, with lighter flower patterns at the edges. There was… a lot of purple, actually. It wasn’t the only color- red and gold and white accented various places and the wooden shelves were brown- and he wasn’t saying purple was a bad color! It was just… a lot.
He couldn’t decide if he liked it or hated it. On one hand, the purple reminded him of Darius.
On the other hand, the purple reminded him of Darius.
This is his house, his mind whispered. Not his suite in the castle. Don’t mess this up.
The place was dusty from lack of use, sure, but it was still well-kept, neat, and very, very pretty. Hunter felt like a disgusting, dirty invader in the midst of it.
When did I last take a shower? he fretted. I can smell myself; I smell awful. Darius won’t like that.
But where was the shower? He had no idea. And was he allowed to use the shower? He’d only been in Darius’s old house for thirty or so minutes now, and the first thing he’d done was squirreled away into the guest room that Darius said was ‘his.’
It didn’t feel like his.
Flapjack poked around the room too, and Hunter watched him distantly. The cardinal palisman seemed interested in the window, beak pulling at the curtains (purple, of course). The faint light of dusk shone through the cracks, and Hunter’s internal clock was very aware of the time. Nine post meridiem, approaching ten. His mind and body was still awake, thrumming with thoughts and energy, despite the long day they’d had, well… defeating Emperor Belos.
He didn’t shiver or cry or panic or wail at the thought. He just let it be. He may be awake, but he was too tired to deal with… any of that.
Flapjack had moved onto the bed, fluttering down to it and landing a few inches away from Hunter. The bed was more modest than Hunter would have expected from Darius; small, but big enough for Hunter, and simplistic, with only the blanket, a sheet below, and two pillows. Flapjack hopped over to the pillow, a pale lilac color bordering white, and poked at it for a few moments. Then, they flapped their wings and landed in the middle of it. They circled once, then nestled down, shoving their beak against their chest feathers and chirping happily.
“You can’t make a nest out of that,” Hunter told his palisman. Flapjack chirped loudly back at him, and Hunter chuckled. He reached out a hand to pet his palisman’s head. Scratching at his feathers, Hunter felt himself relax.
“Hunter!”
The loud, booming shout had Hunter leaping to his feet, heart thumping. Flapjack obediently turned into a staff, quick as lightning, and Hunter clutched him tightly in his grip. His arms shook with exertion, but he would still fight.
And then, past his pounding heartbeat, he realized the voice was Darius’s. He swallowed a nervous breath. Darius is calling me, he thought, letting go of Flapjack. The staff returned to his normal state, chirping and twittering comfortingly before resting on Hunter’s shoulder, nuzzling his cheek. I have to go before he gets mad.
Even still, he kept hesitating at the door, hand raised to grab the knob. What could Darius want from him? Had he decided, so soon, that he didn’t want Hunter in his house, even just for a night? Maybe I should have gone with Eda, Hunter reflected. But she already has Luz and King to worry about and I didn’t want to stress her and Luz was with Vee and their mom too and it seemed like a really important reunion and I didn’t want to ruin that.
Finally convincing himself that Darius wouldn’t throw him out or yell at him, he turned the knob and then stared down the hallway for a few moments. He wasn’t sure what the other three rooms were in the hallway. Darius had said one was the bathroom and another his room but Hunter hadn’t been paying attention when he should have. The hallway was small, and led to the short flight of stairs that led directly into the kitchen, which was connected right to the dining room and the living room was also just a door away, plus maybe a few other rooms but Hunter wasn’t sure.
Everything was too close, and so small. It was really weird compared to living in his one room bedroom with a bathroom attached and always having to walk down a really, really long hallway just to go eat breakfast or get to the training room or the library. He wasn’t sure he liked it. It made him feel like there was nowhere to run or hide.
He trudged down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. The steps were old, and had made creaking noises when heavier and burlier Darius had walked up and down them. At least I’ll be alerted if he’s approaching.
His eyes caught on Darius immediately, just behind the… the island-thing in the middle of the kitchen. Darius’s attention was on his scroll, brows furrowed as he scrolled through it. On the island’s counter was a big triangular box with a company’s name written on it. It was familiar to Hunter.
What was not familiar to Hunter was how Darius wasn’t in any of his normal attire, nor anything particularly fancy or regal. Just… a t-shirt, and pants.
He nervously walked off the last step, taking a few, short steps towards Darius and trying to fight off the nerves squirming inside his stomach and the way his armpits and palms were getting sweaty from said nerves. He’s not gonna hurt you, he tried telling himself firmly, like that would work. He’s done nothing to hurt you. He has no reason to hurt you. Stop acting like he’s gonna hurt you. He’s not Belos .
He waited quietly until Darius’s gaze flickered to him. He could tell he startled the former head witch, eyes widening a tic, a slight jump to his shoulders, but Darius just shoved his scroll away and turned his attention to Hunter.
”Good, you’re still here,” Darius said. “I almost worried you’d run away while I wasn’t looking.” Hunter blinked up at him, not sure what to say, but, thankfully, Darius kept speaking. The man gestured to the box on the table. “I bought us dinner. Unfortunately,” his lips curled into a disgusted sneer, “everything that was left in the fridge has been long rotten by now. The stench was disgusting, ugh. Can’t believe I neglected to think about that.” He shook his head disappointedly. “I do hope this pizzazza is to your taste. I wasn’t sure what you liked, and, quite frankly, I’m not the biggest fan of eating greasy food, but I suppose we deserve a cheat day after everything, hm?”
He looked at Hunter expectantly, making Hunter duck his gaze. He wasn’t sure what to say. Darius had bought them- him - dinner? The thought felt strange and off to him. So he just shrugged helplessly.
“You have had pizzazza before, haven’t you?” Darius questioned, a bit more sternly, eying him curiously.
“Uh,” Hunter was startled into answering, “yes. I have. The… the scouts would have parties sometimes, and, uhm, when I was a scout, I would- Steve would drag me along and I tried a few slices.”
“Ah, good,” Darius mused. “So you did have some semblance of a childhood.” Hunter frowned, slightly offended. His childhood was perfectly fine. He liked it quite a lot.
Even if the biggest part of it had turned out to be a huge lie.
“Well I got fairy heart and cheese,” Darius told him. “This basic kind. Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” Hunter said stiltedly. “I like that.” He’d never had any other kind.
Darius turned and flicked the triangular box open, revealing the pizzazza. It was a popular food in the Boiling Isles. Dough on the bottom, then sauce in the middle, and a variety of toppings one could choose from on top. The most basic, as Darius had said, was fairy hearts, generally from the pink or yellow fairy species. They were a simplistic meat, but not the most nutritious.
Darius moved around the counter to pull a pizzazza cutter out of a drawer. Then he turned the box towards him to cut a few slices. At the same time, the abomination in his hair stretched and opened another drawer to pull out two plates. Hunter’s heart thumped in his chest as he realized Darius intended for them to sit at the counter and eat together .
He steeled himself, moving mechanically towards the seat and forcing himself down, trying to make himself look calm and normal and just like every other kid his age because this was a normal thing normal people did.
Except Hunter never really ate with other people.
Not that he never had. He had a handful of times. When he was younger, just a scout, he had eaten with the other scouts, in the cafeteria, but he… he’d always felt like he… wasn’t one of them. His age, for one, made it hard to relate to them or engage in casual conversation, so he started eating in his room, or the library.
And there were sparse dinners with his uncle, ones that Hunter had always cherished, just as he had any moment in his uncle’s presence.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about it.
And there were celebratory feasts with the coven heads and other important figures in the covens, where Hunter had to be prim and proper and remember all of his table manners and try to worm information and secrets out of the others to report back to Emperor Belos.
Don’t think about it, don’t think about him .
Those feasts were the only time he’d ever eaten with Darius, prior to now. But he and Darius had always been on opposite sides, or far enough away that they’d barely notice each other. But, when he was much younger, Darius had been one of the ones Hunter studied for cues and table manners. Hunter had made a mistake trying to follow Eberwolf’s lead one time. Not that the wolf-demon had terrible table manners, but they clearly did not care about others’ opinions of them, nor the reputation they were supposed to uphold.
Now he was just… eating pizzazza… with Darius… like a normal teenager with one of their primary adult figures in their life.
“Take as many as you’d like,” Darius told him as he pulled out some napkins, setting them down. He took one, folded it, and then grabbed a slice of pizzazza. “Titan knows you need some skin on your bones.”
Hunter’s ears twitched, a light flush rising to them. Under normal circumstances, he ate well. He needed to, to perform his duties as Golden Guard. He only skipped meals when it was necessary, like when he had missions spanning multiple days, and, occasionally, because he got too enraptured with reading and studying and forgot what time it was. But the past few weeks, since he’d- well, since everything… His diet had barely been enough to sustain himself day to day. Not that it bothered him; he’d survived in the wilderness without food before. It was a part of his training, just as it was for every coven scouts’.
Truly, the pit of hunger curling in his stomach was no bother.
Still, though, he reached over to the box and grabbed two big slices, telling himself he wouldn’t go for a third but knowing, in his stomach and his heart, that he would anyway. Tentatively, with his gaze flickering nervously to Darius as he sat down beside him, he took a bite. His stomach grumbled as the delicious taste of fairy hearts, cheese, and tomato sauce coated his taste buds, and he shoved the elbow of his other arm against his belly in a vain attempt to shut it up.
Thankfully, Darius did not comment, raising his own piece to his mouth now. He’d added another layer to his napkin, gripping the crust through it.
Should I be doing that? Hunter wondered. It is greasy. But I’m wearing my gloves. But my gloves will get greasy and then Darius will be mad if I get his stuff greasy. He doesn’t like a mess.
After a moment of indecision, he placed his pizzazza down, reached out to grab a napkin, then whipped the small grease spots on his brown gloves before wrapping his napkin around the edges of his pizzazza.
I hope he doesn’t think I’m weird for copying him, he thought with a nervous pit in his stomach. It just seems smarter than having to wash my gloves later ‘cause I got them full of fairy grease.
Hunter took another bite, chewing it slowly and passing it from cheek to cheek as he worried. Would it be rude if I asked to eat in my room? It’s not even my room. It probably is. Normal kids don’t want to eat alone. Do they? I guess I don’t know. But Gus and Willow always ate with their families while I was staying with them the week before the Day of Unity. And Mrs. Noceda said she was going to make Luz and Vee and King and everybody a big meal for them to eat. Should I have gone with them? It would have been worse, wouldn’t’ve it? Then I really wouldn’t have been able to hide away and eat alone.
Would it be ruder if I ate super fast and retreated to my room? What if he wants to do something or ask me something when we’re done eating? Should I eat super slow so it looks like I’m not as hungry as I feel and then he won’t question how much I need to eat? Should I eat as fast as him or will he think it’s weird that I get done at the same time he is?
My stomach feels queasy. I hope I don’t throw up. That’d be more than embarrassing.
Hunter, now on his fourth bite, startled as Flapjack leaped from his shoulder, flying down and landing beside his plate. The bird tilted his head and stared down at the pizzazza before glancing back up at Hunter.
“O-oh,” Hunter said, voice cracking a touch as he fought to speak past his rising nerves. Would Darius think it weird that he was talking to his palisman? He doesn’t have his palisman, after all. Belos ate it. You killed hundreds of palisman for him. “Are you hungry? Here.”
Hunter gently picked up the red meat off of the pizzazza. It glittered with the sparkles of fairy skin and blood as he placed it in front of the cardinal. Flapjack chirped happily and bit the fairy heart eagerly. Palisman didn’t need to eat, but Flapjack always took a curiosity in food, enjoying eating with him. It brought a tiny smile to his face.
“You have a very loyal palisman,” Darius mused. His deep, rumbling voice startled Hunter, making him jerk a bit. Hunter turned his attention to him. Darius was studying him with his bright green eyes, one dark brow raised, and Hunter fought the urge to squirm. “What’s his name, again?”
“Flapjack,” Hunter answered, shifting in his seat a bit as he took another, tiny bite. Darius had already finished one slice, while Hunter was only halfway through his. Should I eat faster? I’ll feel sick if I do, though.
“Flapjack?” Darius tilted his head. “I could have sworn you asked me something about that once.”
“Uh, yeah,” Hunter said, ducking his head a bit and thrumming his fingers briefly against the obsidian-black counter. “It was- I was trying to figure out what it meant, so I was asking everyone when I couldn’t find the word in books.”
“Did you find out what it meant?” Darius inquired.
Hunter shifted. Should he take another bite? No, he had to answer Darius’s question first. It was an innocent one, after all, just like Hunter’s curiosity when he’d first learned the word had been. But all he could think about was how Belos had been the one to give him some semblance of answer, before he’d actually learned what flapjacks were.
“It’s- it’s another word for pancakes,” Hunter said finally. “They’re a human breakfast food. It’s like a piece of cakey batter fried into a circle with maple syrup and butter and sometimes fruit on it. I’ve… never had one, but Luz said she’d make some for us someday.” He was looking forward to it, if he was honest. The food must have been good if his… if Flapjack’s previous owner named him after it. He glanced at Darius. Had he spoken too much? He’d asked, but sometimes people asked but didn’t really want an answer- or a long one.
“Hm,” was all Darius said, his gaze shifting away from Hunter for a moment. Hunter reached a hand out to pet Flapjack and took another bite from his pizzazza as the silence lulled. He got in a few more bites before Darius abruptly asked, “Did you carve him?”
”Huh?” Hunter blinked, mouth still full of the last bite of his first pizzazza. He chewed quickly and swallowed even quicker, knowing Darius wouldn’t appreciate it if he spoke with his mouth full. “Oh, uh, no. He… it’s a long story actually, but he found me and… wouldn’t leave me.” He glanced down at Flapjack as the bird pecked at his fairy heart.
“I didn’t think you carved him,” Darius commented, gaze watching Flapjack. “I heard about Hexside letting their students choose an old palisman to be theirs.”
“The palisman chose them, actually,” Hunter corrected, then cowed when Darius’s gaze went back to him. For an irrational moment, he thought Darius would be angry at him for correcting him; for speaking out of turn. But Darius just stared openly at him, waiting for him to continue. So Hunter did. “That’s what Gus explained to me, when I asked about his palisman. They called it an adoption day. They said their wishes and then the palisman came to them. I… Flapjack actually came from there. It was- I was- getting- stealing - the palisman for… for Emperor Belos.” His voice faded into a hushed whisper, body tensing as he stared down at his plate. “But I couldn’t do it in the end.”
How many palisman did I hunt for him? he thought. How many lives did I take for him, without sparing a thought? I knew they were alive, so why didn’t I think it was wrong ? He felt horrified at himself. Hundreds, thousands, of palisman; dead. And their owners mourning their loss.
Darius didn’t say anything, and Hunter dared not look at him, not sure if he’d find approval or disappointment or concern on his face. He shoved his face with pizzazza, using it as an excuse not to talk. He removed another piece for Flapjack, trying to focus on his palisman pecking at the glittery fairy heart instead of the squirming, dreadful feeling in the bottom of his stomach and the sharpness pressing against his eyes.
They ate in silence for the rest of the meal. Hunter, despite his nerves, did end up going for the third piece of pizzazza. For a moment he debated going for a fourth, hunger still clawing at his stomach, but he didn’t want to look like a pig (even though Darius had eaten five pieces), so he refrained. While Darius finished up, Hunter shuffled nervously in his seat, petting Flapjack in an attempt to look like he was doing something. Was he allowed to leave? He had to wait to be dismissed when he ate with his uncle.
Finally, Darius pushed himself off of his seat, and Hunter snapped his attention towards him, waiting for some kind of dismissal or statement. But Darius wasn’t focused on him, grabbing the dirty napkins and his abomination hair extending to grab his plate and then, to Hunter’s surprise, Hunter’s plate. He startled belatedly once he realized Darius was cleaning up. Hunter had never had to clean up after meals. That job was always left to servants and maids of the Emperor’s Coven. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know one was supposed to wash their dishes after they ate.
And that it was rude to leave your dirty dishes around in someone else’s house.
“I-I can wash my dishes!” Hunter quickly blurted out, reaching out to grab his plate, but the abomination kept it out of his reach.
Darius raised an eyebrow. “Normally kids aren’t so eager to clean dirty dishes,” Darius stated, voice maybe amused but Hunter wasn’t sure. “I can clean them myself, little prince. What you need to do is take a shower.”
Hunter flinched, shrinking a touch in shame. Part of it was the nickname, though it flowed so naturally from Darius’s lips that Hunter hardly registered it as the former insult Darius would toss at him, but most of it was the fact that Darius could smell him.
He must think I’m a slob that never takes care of myself, Hunter thought, burning. Like a toddler that screams when you try to give them a bath.
“I took a shower earlier, so it’s all yours,” Darius said as he walked around the island to put the dishes into the sink and dispose of the napkins into a trashcan. His abomination reached out and grabbed the pizzazza box while opening the fridge at the same time, placing the box into it and closing it without Darius even looking. It was kinda cool, and Hunter’s brain paused in its fretting for a moment to watch. “My shower’s a bit more quirky, the old thing, compared to the ones in the Emperor’s castle. So if it gives you any trouble just tell me. I’ll go scrounge up some of my old clothes for you to wear for tonight.”
That’s a dismissal, Hunter realized, getting out of his seat. And an order: take a shower. Okay, I can do that. Easy.
He moved towards the stairs before pausing and then turning and blubbering out, “Uh- thank you. For- for the pizzazza.”
Darius turned around, blinking at him. “Of course,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. Did I say something wrong? Hunter worried. I thought thanking people is what you’re supposed to do. “I wasn’t gonna have you starve.”
Hunter hitched his shoulders up in a confused, nervous gesture that he then tried to play off as a shrug. He turned his gaze away and then his body as he said, again, for some reason his brain could not fathom, “Thanks.”
He darted up the stairs before Darius could judge his awkwardness anymore. His legs instinctively tried to take him towards the guest room, but he paused halfway, remembering he was supposed to take a shower. He glanced at the three other rooms. Which had Darius said was the bathroom?
Flapjack chirped merrily as he flew in front of him. Predictably, he grabbed Hunter’s tuft of hair and yanked. “Hey!” Hunter complained, swatting his palisman away. Flapjack flew away and landed on one of the door’s handles, chirping once.
Hunter blinked, then walked towards the door, opening it. Flapjack flew to his shoulder. Hunter murmured a small thank you to the bird as he entered the bathroom. Thankfully, unlike the rest of the house, it was white instead of purple. Not that the bathroom was absent of purple, but the tiles were white and the counter was white. Despite the layers of dust in the corners, it was spotless of any stain. Hunter’s heart thumped a little, thinking of his own bathroom. It hadn’t been the cleanest, stained with grime and blood here and there. He cleaned his own room just fine, but he’d always neglected the bathroom out of laziness.
Hunter closed the door, hesitated for a moment, then locked it. Will Darius get mad that I locked it? he wondered. Uncle didn’t like when I locked doors. But I also don’t want to leave the door unlocked. It doesn’t feel safe. But what if get attacked or hurt or pass out and the door’s locked and he can’t get in?
He pushed his concerns away. Nothing would happen. He was going to take a shower. That was it.
He moved towards the shower. It was one with a glass wall, and that made him ansty, but he pushed past the discomfort. He toyed with the knobs, startling himself and Flapjack when the water sprayed out fiercely. He tested the temperature, and it was cold, but he couldn’t figure out which knob did what, so he left it.
He stripped down, though his hair prickled as he couldn’t stop imagining a hundred bad scenarios. He didn’t look at himself and his scars (most of which were simply a part of him and that he held no thoughts towards, others of which made him proud or fearful from the memories that came with). Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the shower, wincing at the onslaught of freezing water. Flapjack chirped and joined him in the shower, splashing in the puddles below.
He stood still for a moment, letting the water wash away the dirt and grime on his body while he adjusted to the temperature. After a while, the cold wasn’t so cold, and he moved to wash himself. There were only a few very old bars of soap, but Hunter could make do.
By the time he felt cleaned from the shower, his teeth were chattering, but he did feel a little better. He didn’t look nor smell so awful. He searched for a towel and found them in a small sideroom. He dried himself off and then double and triple checked that he hadn’t somehow left a stain behind in the bathroom, before he paused.
Darius had said he was getting him clothes for tonight. But Hunter had locked the door so Darius couldn’t slip them in and Hunter couldn’t just yell for him. And he couldn’t just walk from the bathroom to the guest room, naked, or with only a towel.
So Hunter slipped his old clothes back on, hoping Darius wouldn’t think he was disgusting by wearing dirty clothes after a shower or that he was spitting at Darius’s generosity by not wearing his clothes. But there wasn’t much else he could do.
He scratched Flapjack’s feathery chin to calm himself down before he opened the door and peeked out. The lights were out, and it startled him. He waited a moment, ears straining for any sounds, but there was nothing. He hadn’t taken too long of a shower. Had Darius retired to bed already? It was a bit early to go to sleep, wasn’t it?
Hunter flipped the bathroom lights off and then creeped down to the guest room. He clicked the door shut behind him, a bit nervous as it didn’t lock, then stepped towards the bed. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room, he noticed folded clothes on top of his bed. Oh, that makes sense.
He unfolded the clothes, staring at them. Definitely a bit big for him, but not too much. They looked worn too- they must have been clothes from when Darius was a teen. They weren’t purple, either. It was a t-shirt with a group of characters on it, maybe from some crystal ball show. It wasn’t familiar to Hunter, nor was the name branded in flashy text above it. And the pants were some old, gray, baggy sweatpants.
He traded his old clothes for them, only keeping his gloves on. He folded his old clothes best he could, not sure if Darius had a laundry room somewhere. His folding skills were sloppy, especially compared to how neat Darius had folded the clothes. Then, he climbed into bed, dragging the covers over him. Flapjack nestled down on the pillow beside him.
Hunter knew he wouldn’t go to sleep easily. His mind was alive with a spider web of thoughts. For a moment, he just stared out into the darkness. Then, he rolled over and grabbed his scroll from where he had placed it on the side of the bed. He checked that his volume was off, even though it eternally had been, too scared that even the smallest of sounds would have alerted Emperor Belos to the fact that he had a scroll.
And then, with nothing else to do, he scrolled.