Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Judging by the noise coming from the kitchen, Edalyn has just blown something up. Lilith’s not quite sure how her sister managed to pull it off with those ingredients, but she clearly has.

“That wasn’t me!” Luz shouts. As if that weren’t clear, with her being on an entirely different floor and on the other side of the house. Perhaps Luz just wants to revel in the exotic and rare feeling of not being the one responsible for breaking something.

Edalyn swears loudly, which suggests she’s survived the explosion and kept her lips intact. Thus, she can be ignored for now. Lilith’s going to help her soon enough, anyway. It’s quite obvious that the burden of cleaning up that mess will fall onto Lilith’s shoulders, even though just yesterday she spent hours making the kitchen spotless. She needs a moment, she’ll deal with that after she finishes with this. There’s still more than a day till the dinner starts, and it’s a bit peculiar that Eda has already set off baking and cooking. Even with blowing the dishes up, it’s still an uncharacteristically responsible approach. But then again, Luz seems to really care about the whole thing, and Edalyn cares about Luz.

Lilith notices with surprise that at some point she must have stuck out the tip of her tongue in concentration. She used to do that back in school, but she had quickly learned to avoid it. The Coven was no place for such silliness.

No matter, nobody can see her right now, and she needs to be precise. If she must stick her tongue out like an idiot in order to do so, so be it. Lilith’s hands draw expert clear lines, and the lettering’s impeccable. She’s had years of practice. She knows how to arrange her hand and slightly lift her elbow to avoid smearing the ink, and she can do perfect cursive with her eyes closed. It’s not like she can perform any other curse anyway. But the smell of ink and paper is soothing. If Edalyn ever discovered it, she would probably never let Lilith live that down, but the parts of the old job Lilith enjoyed the most were not the witch’s duels, the prestige, not even being someone impressionable witchlings could look up to. It was the paperwork. Paperwork was quiet and never overwhelming. Yes, its amounts tended to be alarming, and its contents even more so (Lilith had quickly learned how to ignore those parts; you had to compartmentalize if you wanted to make it in the Coven). But nobody was yelling at Lilith during those hours. She didn’t need to watch her every step around paperwork. She didn’t have to look for signs that its temper was getting dangerously short, nor did she have to wonder whether it was still just short temper, or perhaps the curse already bubbling to the surface. With files, she never had to watch palismen being consumed, never felt her knuckles tighten on her own staff so hard they turned white. Paperwork was what Lilith did to relax, and she was great at it.

This isn’t exactly paperwork, but it’s as close as it can get, and Lilith will take it. The ink is almost dry, and it seems like she won’t have to redo anything. The branches are convoluted enough but in an aesthetically pleasing way. The occasional leaves perhaps lack some depth and shading, but they’re well-placed.

What remains at this point, is just the final touches with gold ink, and a simple spell to animate the leaves. The staff is more than enough to achieve that.

“What is it?” she suddenly hears a shrill voice, and manages to avoid an undignified yelp. She still flinches, though. Nobody was supposed to yell at her while she was working on calligraphy. That was the whole point.

She looks up and takes a deep breath. She’s most certainly not going to yell back at the Titan himself.

“It’s the Clawthorne family tree. Updated, revised, and complete,” she explains, and if she sounds very proud of that accomplishment, then what. It is an accomplishment.

King squints at the picture for a moment.

“Nah,” he says with a shrug, and, to Lilith’s horror, proceeds to jump onto the table and land right in the middle of the drying ink. “You got it wrong.”

She sends the Titan her most beaming, albeit a bit strained smile.

“I assure you, o lord, that it is factually correct. This is the result of weeks’ worth of additional research, and, of course, it’s based on records that were already quite meticulous.”

She really wants to stop the Titan from tap-tapping his hind paw on the document because by now, the paper is getting wrinkly. She swallows that urge back. It’s not the first time she chooses to ignore something annoying. Probably won’t be the last one either.

But the Titan shakes his head, scratching his chin at the same time. “Naah,” he repeats. “It’s not right.”

“And what exactly seems to be the problem, o lord?” she asks with every ounce of politeness she can summon.

He pouts. Lilith has no idea how he manages to do so with that... bone structure, but the Titan is definitely pouting at her.

“First of all, I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“Very well. O Titan?”

“I mean, that is technically correct,” he admits with hesitation. “But that’s just calling me by my species.”

“O god?” Lilith proposes.

“I guess that would be cool,” he agrees gracefully.

But he’s still standing in the middle of Lilith’s detailed picture.

“So what would be the mistake here, o god?” Lilith asks, and she’s really, really polite about the whole thing.

King takes a look around, clearly having already forgotten why he has jumped onto the table and why he’s currently ruining Lilith’s work. He squints at the tree, and then brightens up with a realization.

“Ah, yes. As your god and overlord, I should be in the center of it.” His voice raises in pitch a bit. “Me!”

He accentuates the last word with a little stomp.

“I’m afraid this is not how family trees work, o god.”

King considers her for a moment, and it seems like he’s weighing his options. The options, Lilith assumes, are making the angry noise Edalyn finds so endearing, or smiting Lilith for her impudence.

“They should. It doesn’t make sense any other way,” he says decidedly. “The ruler should always be surrounded by his loyal subjects.” He takes a step back and looks at the smeared ink where the names of Lilith’s great-great grandparents used to be. “And those guys currently in the middle? Never heard of them. I bet they’re not important, like, at all.”

Annelyn and John Clawthorne were the pillars of their community. Annelyn was the best healer in Latissa, and an expert midwife. Some of the handbooks she wrote are still in use. And John revolutionized the palisman painting technique.

Lilith sighs and collects herself enough to keep her voice calm and respectful.

“The placement on the tree is not related to one’s importance, o god. It reflects the generation one belongs to,” she explains. She even manages to smile. “It is supposed to convey the passage of time, and the passage of time is objective and not influenced by the importance of any individual.”

“So you think I couldn’t influence time with my powers?” the Titan asks, and Lilith only now realizes her mistake.

He probably couldn’t, at least not at this point. Right?

“Oh, I am certain there’s nothing that’s beyond your abilities, o god,” she says without missing a beat. “But because of that, you are what we call an outlier. A phenomenon so rare and so, ah, marvelous that taking one into account would distort the image of the reality the rest of us face.”

King gives her a very confused look.

“On a sheet of paper, outliers need to be near the edge,” she tries. “Because they’re very special and shouldn’t be confused with the boring majority that takes up so much space in the middle?”

That seems to placate the Titan. For a moment.

“Then I should be at the top, not at the bottom of the page,” he decides. “The ruler should always be above his subjects.”

“Again: this diagram is not supposed to represent the importance of individuals but the succession, heirdom, and genetic concatenation. And you are the youngest Clawthorne offspring.” She heaves a sigh. “O god,” she adds.

King leaps off the table and gives her a suspicious look.

“But you’ve just told me I’m not in the center because I’m an outside— out—” He struggles with the word. “Because I’m so very important.”

She has, hasn’t she. But before she manages to come up with some white lie, the Titan changes his angle.

“Besides, what kind of a tree grows upside down?”

To that, Lilith at least does have an answer.

“The topsy-scurvy larch is quite common in the Forearm Forest region,” she says. “And the ‘tree’ in ‘family tree’ is just a metaphor. The point is to trace one’s roots and present the connections within an extended family in a systematic and comprehensible way.”

“Yeah, but the roots are supposed to be at the bottom of the tree,” King says, and he’s clearly not intending to let the thing go. “That’s how trees work.”

Eda said the same thing when she saw Lilith preparing the first outlines. It seems like an awful lot of people prefer the family tree to mimic an actual tree, which makes little sense. Yes, the ancestors being portrayed as the roots and the children as buds is quite poetic, but taking the metaphor too far has so many disadvantages. First of all, real roots are convoluted and numerous, and we rarely know about more than two, perhaps four people from that time. Thus, either the portrayal of the roots would need to be grotesquely oversimplified, or most of them would lack any label, and that’s just a waste of space. In such a case, Lilith should name the other ramifications, which would mean that Caleb Wittebane’s family should be included as well.

There’s a really small, basically negligible part of Lilith that entertains the idea of having the Emperor himself in her lineage for a few seconds. That, that would be something. Not even the most noble families could claim something like that. But the part of her that tries to be a decent person quickly kicks in, and in case being a decent person wasn’t enough, it reminds Lilith about the complications and edits to the design introducing Belos would require. If she were to include Philip Wittebane, she would need to decide what was his relationship with Hunter. If he was Hunter’s creator, that basically means being a father, right? But Hunter has grown up believing Belos was his uncle, while in fact Belos was his brother, and how do you even begin to put something like that on paper? There’s also an indefinite number of previous grimwalkers, so perhaps they could serve as the roots, but Lilith doesn’t know their names. Besides, are they supposed to be Caleb’s brothers? Caleb’s children? Belos’ children? Is Hunter their descendant, or do all of the grimwalkers, Hunter included, belong to the same generation? What if at one point Belos ran out of parts and started, uh, recycling the grimwalkers? Would the ones created with already used parts count as the offspring of the original users? How do you pinpoint the moment it started happening? Does re-using Caleb’s bone count, or was it the same bone being used over and over from the very beginning? It’s not like Lilith can ask Belos to clear up some of that confusion.

Also, if she were to include the Emperor, she should probably include King’s father as well. Which would look very respectable, yes, even more respectable than having just one Titan in the family. Alas, once again, Lilith doesn’t know enough to even begin to consider labeling the roots.

Second of all, most witches in the Isles read from left to right, top to bottom, and so it’s logical for the structure of the story told by the diagram to be just like any story written down, beginning at the top of the page.

And third of all, and that’s quite important, third of all, Lilith has almost finished the detailed picture. She started with the ancestors at the top, and she has no intention of doing everything all over again.

The Titan looks at her expectantly.

She tries to stand her ground.

The Titan’s look slowly turns into a glare.

“I will turn it upside down, o god,” she surrenders.

The god in question jumps up in pure glee and hugs her leg.

“Okay, but my name has to be the biggest and the brightest of all of them!” he says after he finally lets her go. “And I want a crown.”

“Of course you do, o god,” Lilith says miserably.

She can do it. She doesn’t want to, but she certainly can.

.

She doesn’t draw everything back from scratch. She might be a perfectionist, but there’s just no time to do that if she wants the leaves to look even remotely acceptable. Lilith introduces some minor changes, and uses a simple spell to erase the names. She writes them down again, this time upside down. She could have used a spell to do that as well, but it would feel too impersonal.

She’s almost finished, and it doesn’t look half bad when Luz runs into the room and narrowly misses the table while backpedaling.

“Eda—” She tries to catch her breath. “Eda— asks— where did you put— the fairy dust. She says—”

The girl’s eyes grow wide and she clasps her hands to her cheeks in excitement.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asks, forgetting she was out of breath.

“Depends on what you’re thinking,” Lilith replies with a soft smirk. She’s in a good mood, and the corrections required by the Titan didn’t take as much time as she was expecting.

Luz bounces on her heels. “Oh lemme see, lemme see,” she yells, though probably her intention was to just plainly say that.

Lilith moves aside and lets her niece pass. There would be no stopping her anyway.

“This is so cool!” Luz exclaims, and it’s obvious that her enthusiasm is genuine. As it always is.

She starts from the middle of the page, not even the bottom, and who does something like that? She slowly makes her way up to the top, asking about each and every name, and doing excited little dances.

“Oh, and King has a cute little crown!”

“He does,” Lilith admits without much enthusiasm.

“And I’m—” Luz’s voice breaks noticeably as she takes in the label that says “Luz Noceda-Clawthorne.” “And I’m also here.”

Lilith doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, but suddenly she has her arms full of a sniffling teenager. But it’s happy sniffling, the teenager in question assures her after a moment. It’s bonding, Luz explains. They’re bonding right now, the cool aunt and her equally cool niece.

Lilith doesn’t feel very comfortable with that kind of bonding, but thankfully, Luz lets go of her after a minute. Lilith carefully avoids looking down at her shirt to check whether it’s covered in tears and snot. It probably is, and it will do Lilith no good to know that at the moment.

“You shouldn’t be surprised,” she says instead. “It’s going to be a ‘welcome to the family’ party after all.”

“I guess,” Luz says still a bit tearfully. “But not for me.” She leans over the table once again, quickly jumping back to being excited. “So where’s he?”

Lilith points to Hunter’s name, and Luz knits her brows together.

“I’m not sure that’s... exactly accurate,” the girl says guardedly.

“It is,” Lilith assures her. She has spent past month agonizing over the issue, she knows what she’s doing. “That’s the most accurate description possible.”

Luz looks at the words ‘Caleb (Hunter) Wittebane-Clawthorne’ at the bottom of the picture with unease.

“I think Hunter might not be... thrilled,” she says. “He’s his own person, you know?”

Lilith doesn’t scoff. She knows better than to do that.

“Genetically speaking, they’re almost identical. They even had the same palisman. And he’s not exactly Caleb’s offspring, so he can’t get a branch of his own.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Besides, isn’t tomorrow’s entire party exactly about that? About welcoming another Clawthorne to his estranged family? The only way in which he’s a Clawthorne, is through Caleb’s marriage.”

Luz chews on her bottom lip for a few seconds.

“He’s not going to like it,” she says stubbornly. “Plus, he’s my brother, so he should be next to me, not on the other end of the sheet.”

Lilith is really grateful she’s not holding an inkwell when her fist clenches spastically.

She blinks twice.

“What do you mean, your brother?”

Luz sends her a radiant smile.

“I mean, my mom’s his mom as well, and he’s totally my brother. And Vee’s our sister.” Luz changes her expression a bit. “I think she should be there too.”

“And perhaps I should squeeze in your mother as well?” Lilith says, feeling her lips tighten into a thin line.

Luz doesn’t notice the sarcasm. She often doesn’t. She just nods enthusiastically and wraps her arms around Lilith’s waist once again.

“See? I knew you were the coolest aunt in all the realms!” the girl exclaims, and then she runs off to the kitchen to help Edalyn.

She still doesn’t know where the fairy dust is, but Edalyn has probably also forgotten about it by the time Luz gets back to her.

.

Four hours and three visits from Hootsifer later, Lilith is pacing the room. She’s trying to do that quietly, she really is, but when she focuses on her footsteps being as light as possible, she forgets to avoid muttering to herself.

So Luz is Edalyn’s kid, and Hunter is Luz’s brother, but he’s not Edalyn’s kid. He’s, genetically speaking, Edalyn’s great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. And yet, he can’t be placed as their ancestor because Lilith’s niece says it would hurt her brother’s feelings, though Lilith’s niece’s brother isn’t Lilith’s nephew.

Alright. There’s certainly some way to represent this mess visually in a manner that would make sense.

Lilith’s very close to coming up with said way. The last six attempts at a blueprint of an updated-updated family tree lie crumpled on the floor while Lilith gestures angrily, preparing to crumple another one.

“I’m heading off to my nest,” Edalyn says, sticking her head through the door. “I’m dead on my feet. And, by the way, thanks for all that incredible help in the kitchen, sis, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Lilith jumps up, startled.

“Huh?” she says, turning around and realizing this time it’s not Hootsifer.

Edalyn sighs and enters the room.

“I was being passive aggressive, but it seems I’ve wasted a perfectly good jab on a sister who neither helps out with the cake, nor listens to my complaints.”

Lilith gives her a noncommittal grunt, and throws another crumpled sheet of paper onto the floor. Then she stomps on it purposefully.

“What happened here?” Edalyn asks in alarm, seeing the state of the room. She examines a dent in the wall carefully. “Have you punched it, Lily? Cuz if you punched it, you’re the one fixing it, that’s the rules.”

“Luz says Hunter’s her brother,” Lilith deadpans, refusing to dignify her sister’s question with an answer.

“Yeah, and?”

“How is he her brother?”

“Through adoption, I would assume.”

“So has he been formally adopted?” Lilith presses on.

“I don’t know?” Edalyn shrugs. “But neither has Luz, and you know she’s a Clawthorne.”

Somehow, she really is, and Lilith does know that. It doesn’t make much sense, logically speaking.

“Very well,” Lilith admits because she knows how to pick her battles. “Still, Hunter’s not your kid.”

Edalyn drops onto the chair heavily.

“Obviously not. He’s Camila’s and Darius’,” she says, stifling a yawn. She stretches out like a cat, and then yawns openly. And then once more, for a good measure.

Only after that, she looks up at her sister.

“You okay, Lily? You want to... sit down for a little bit?”

Lilith’s outburst shouldn’t surprise anyone, and yet it comes as a shock to both of them.

“No, I don’t want to sit down! I want it to make sense!” She gestures to her notes angrily. “Any sense! How is Darius his father? In what way? I’ve never heard Darius say anything like that!”

Eda carefully avoids any sudden movement, as if she were stuck in the same room with a rabid animal. “I mean, Darius would never say he’s Hunter’s father, but he’s, you know.” She makes a vague gesture.

“I don’t!” Lilith screams. She clears her throat, noticing her poor volume control. “I don’t,” she repeats quietly.

“He’s Darius,” Edalyn says with emphasis, as if that were supposed to explain everything. “He won’t call himself a dad, but Hunter’s definitely his kid. It was Darius who dealt with all the paperwork when Hunter was getting admitted to Hexside. Pretty fatherly, if you ask me.” She gives Lilith a worried look. “Stop doing that, you’re gonna tear your hair out.”

Lilith untangles her hand from her hair, only now noticing what she’s been doing. She takes a deep breath, and decides to ask the next question just to be done with it.

“Splendid. But what about Amity, then?”

Edalyn gives her a confused look.

“Darius is dating Alador, isn’t he?” Lilith says.

“He is?”

Lilith opens up her scroll and shows Eda her Penstagram feed. Half of it is covered in photos of the two abomination witches, though every image description is a poorly veiled insult. The target of the insults varies, depending on which one of the two has posted the picture.

“Alright, seems that way.” Edalyn shrugs. “Good for him. Both of them.” She snorts. “I guess it’s the goo that holds them together, amirite?”

Lilith gives her an exasperated look.

“What,” Eda says defensively. “I love a juicy piece of gossip just like any other gal, but those two have been an item since forever. That’s not really gossip. And I don’t see how it has anything to do with you losing your marbles.”

Lilith grabs her sister by both of her ears and yanks so that Eda has no choice but to look her in the eye at an awkward angle.

“Think, Edalyn, think!” she hisses. “If Darius and Alador are together, is Hunter Alador’s child as well?”

Eda furrows her brows, and then winces immediately as the movement causes the skin on her temples to stretch painfully. She bats at her sister’s hands, and Lilith finally lets go of her ears. “I think that’s for Alador to decide,” she says. Then, suddenly, she sniggers. “Though Gus tells me he welcomed Hunter to the Blight family quite cordially on the Day of Unity.” The chuckle turns into yet another ugly snort, and Eda doesn’t seem in the least embarrassed by that noise.

Lilith has no idea what Edalyn’s talking about, but she’s not going to admit that. She goes back to pacing the room.

“If Hunter’s going to be Alador’s child, then he’s Amity’s brother, right?” she presses on.

“I assume...” Edalyn says carefully. “Listen, Lily, I think you should take a break for a second. You’re getting... intense. You need to calm your tits.”

Lilith looks down. “I don’t see what they have to do with anything,” she says. “And they’re not important. Because if Hunter is Amity’s brother and Luz’s brother, doesn’t that mean that Luz and Amity are sisters?”

“Pretty sure it doesn’t mean that, Lily.”

“Is Luz dating her own sister?” Lilith carries on, and even she herself can hear the hint of hysteria in her voice. “Don’t you think we should do something about that?”

“Nope,” Edalyn says, popping the p. “Definitely no, I’m not going to do anything about that besides being supportive, and neither are you. Here’s what you are going to do, sis: you’re going with me to the kitchen, and you’re going to have a nice cup of sweet sleeping nettle. Then you’ll go to bed, and tomorrow your brain won’t be doing whatever the hell it’s doing right now.”

Lilith stops in her tracks and takes a look around. The floor is covered in discarded attempts at making any sense of the situation. She’s tired, she realizes. When was the last time she ate? When was the last time she went to the bathroom, since we’re at it?

“I guess I could use a short break,” she admits weakly.

“Besides, it’s not like you need to include everyone, right? I mean, Raine’s also kinda Hunter’s parent, more than the BATs’. Though that’s mostly because I’m BATs’—” Edalyn trails off, probably noticing Lilith’s expression. “Um. No?”

“No,” Lilith states flatly. “Absolutely not.”

“No it is,” Edalyn concedes. She squints at the last sketch in order to change the subject. “The tree looks different than before.”

“You don’t say,” Lilith snaps at her. “It made sense before. And now...” She collapses onto a chair in silent resignation. “Now there have been some new pieces of information to take into account.”

“No, I mean the tree,” Eda says. “The trunk and the branches and all that. Where are the leaves? It doesn’t look like a tree, more like a… really tangled up snake? A worm?”

Lilith nods and makes a sound that is something between a giggle and a sob.

“Is that Hooty’s face where there was a decorative hollow before?” Edalyn pushes on.

“He really wanted to be included,” Lilith explains. “Actually, I’m pretty proud of that solution.”

“Well, he is family,” Edalyn admits. “Though I wouldn’t, you know. Make him into a tree.”

Lilith’s smile grows even wider now that she feels her left eye twitch.

“So do you perhaps have some ideas where and how he should be introduced to the diagram?” she asks.

“I dunno, next to King and Luz?” Eda proposes, scratching the back of her neck. “And, uh, Hunter... and Vee? So that’s a thing now. Huh.”

“And, pray tell, is Hootsifer your child the way Luz or King are?” Lilith asks with manic politeness.

“Well, not exactly, but you could put him down as something else.”

“A brother, perhaps?” Lilith feels her muscles strain under the weight of the continuous smile.

“Nah. Definitely not a brother. More like a distant cousin that annoys you during family gatherings, if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, the word ‘mean’ is certainly appropriate here,” Lilith retorts, her smile disappearing momentarily. Then it comes back, this time even wider. “To be our cousin, Hootsifer would need to be a child of someone from this level.” She gestures at the branches that contain their parents and their parents’ siblings. “Any idea who might have given birth to Hooty? Or raised him when he was a larva?”

Eda shudders. “Okay, I see your point. But if not a cousin, then something else? Something that is not a tree.”

Oh, if Edalyn wants to have that conversation, she’ll have it.

“In fact, Hootsifer has proposed a way his presence in the family could be handled,” Lilith informs her sister.

“Oh?” Eda asks, not knowing what’s coming.

“He seems to be under the impression that he’s your life partner, Edalyn.”

For a second there, Eda looks as if she wished for her mouth to be full of water so that she could spit it out dramatically. “What.”

“Your life partner,” Lilith repeats sweetly.

“But— but—” Edalyn stammers. “Life partner as in, you know, life partner? As in, me and Raine being life partners?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve asked him,” Lilith admits with a sigh. Fun is fun, especially when someone questions Lilith’s most ingenious ideas, but Eda looks like she’s on the verge of an aneurysm. “He didn’t understand what I meant, so I phrased it differently and asked about romantic partners. He seemed very confused when confronted with the notion. I think he believes that partnership means living together without the kinship?” She clears her throat. “Both of us were confused, I must admit.”

“Oh goodie,” Edalyn mutters. “So now there’s three of us, all very confused. I’m not going to open this can of snakes right now, though.” She brightens up. “A tree it is! And what a great idea, Lily, I might add. Never had any doubt you could handle the whole thing. I think you deserve some rest for coming up with that.”

Lilith agrees with the last part.

They go to the kitchen. It’s in shambles, and Lilith realizes she should have investigated the explosion she heard back then. They do have a nice cup of sweet sleeping nettle, though, and soon enough, Lilith feels the tiredness spreading through her limbs. She yawns, but she covers her mouth while doing so. She’s not an animal.

They chat a little, though it’s only to pass the time while they finish drinking the herbal brew. Eda’s the first one to do so, and it’s a bit disturbing to see her pour herself a glass of apple blood immediately after that.

“It’s the second one in dozens of hours,” she explains, apparently noticing Lilith’s expression. “I deserve some treat after today, and before...” She cringes slightly. “Tomorrow.” She downs the glass in two gulps, and pours herself another.

“I’m sure it’s not going to be that bad,” Lilith says, even though she’s not sure. It’s a conversation for another time, now her eyes are refusing to stay open. “Mother’s much more willing to listen now, and father... I thought the two of you worked something out.”

Edalyn sticks her nose into the glass for a second before answering.

“Yeah,” she finally says. “I’m not sneaking out through the bathroom window, am I. It’s good.” She takes a generous gulp. “It’s all good, so good.”

“I think you require one more ‘good’ to make it more convincing,” Lilith says sleepily because what else is there to say. I gave you the curse that hurt our father? You’ve been avoiding him for decades because of what I’ve done?

She’ll say all those things. Eventually. Now she feels like her speech would be slurred anyway.

Edalyn gives her something resembling a smile, and then it drops when she realizes the glass is already empty.

“Seriously, though,” she says, grabbing the bottle. “It’s good.”

For a moment, they sit in silence, and it’s not a comfortable one. Eda considers the bottle for a moment, and then starts drinking directly from it.

“Now dad has a successor, and the kid’s pretty good with a carving knife, I’ll give him that. And he’s a Clawthorne, so it all really worked out in the end,” Edalyn finally says, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. She smears the lipstick all over her face. “I think dad’s really into this whole accepting Hunter into the family idea.”

Lilith gives a perfunctory nod, too tired to react properly, the warmth of the sleeping nettle slowly encompassing her entire body. She lets her head rest on the elbows she must have put on the table at some point. She just needs a second.

“I’ve even heard him call Hunter ‘son’ once,” Eda adds while her sister gives up the heroic struggle to keep her eyes open.

Lilith wakes up just before dawn. Her back’s sore from the awkward position, though Edalyn apparently wrapped not one but two blankets around her. There’s also a pillow lying next to her on the tabletop, suggesting that Edalyn had tried to slip it under Lilith’s cheek but gave up.

She squints at the surroundings, trying to understand what kind of a process has led her here. She retraces her steps and tries to remember the conversation she had with her sister before nodding off. Washing the dishes, the apple blood, tomorrow. No, that’s today already. Today’s dinner. Father. Father finding a successor, father calling—

Turns out the pillow does come in handy. Lilith uses it to muffle her screams.

Chapter Text

Luz finds Lilith wide-eyed, wild-haired, and wearing the same clothes she was wearing yesterday.

“Oh, good,” Lilith says when Luz enters the room. “Please be a dear and call my parents, and pretend it’s not me.”

She shoves a crow into her disoriented niece’s hands, and goes back to hovering over the table full of paper, drawing pins, and, for some reason, red string connecting those.

“Ummm...” Luz says, not sure where to even begin asking questions.

Lilith turns around like an angry viper, and Luz hasn’t seen that expression on her aunt’s face since she left the Coven.

“Less umming, more calling. Chop-chop!” the former head of the Emperor’s Coven commands, and accentuates the last words with a clap. “There are only five hours left, I’ve already given up on doing everything by hand, and I’ll have to use pre-fabricated spells for the ornaments, so let’s mitigate that disaster, shall we?”

“What disaster?” the girl asks, scratching her left ankle with her right foot and desperately trying to avoid yawning.

“What disaster, she asks!” Lilith scoffs. “What disaster. This disaster!” She points to the mess on the table. “So call my parents, tell Gwendolyn it’s you, ask for Dell, and for the love of Titan, don’t tell them I’m here.” She grimaces, probably trying to smile. “Will you do that, sweetie?”

Luz considers her for a moment. Aunt Lilith’s makeup is smeared on one side of her face, her hair is in complete disarray, and there’s something that is unnervingly similar to feathers on her neck. Her eyes are red-rimmed, though it’s hard to tell whether that’s because Lilith’s been crying or just not sleeping.

“I don’t know their number,” Luz says, trying to sound helpless and managing to do so with ease.

Cool Aunt Lilith grunts something unintelligible, grabs the crow and barks, “Call parents” at it. It doesn’t respond in any way. “Call. Parents,” she repeats through gritted teeth. Once again, nothing happens.

“Of course.” She sighs. “That’s Edalyn’s crow. I should have known she wouldn’t have them on speed diaphragm.” She makes a complicated gesture not very different from drawing a spell circle, and pushes the crow back into Luz’s hands.

“Eda, honey?” the crow says immediately in Gwendolyn’s voice. “Is everything alright? Is Lilith still—“

“Uh, it’s me,” Luz says in panic, desperately wishing for Gwendolyn not to finish the sentence. “Luz. Can I— can I talk to Mr. Dell, please?”

She wipes the sweat off her brow. It’s not that hot in here, but somehow Lilith’s angry stare makes Luz’s body ignore the actual temperature in the room.

“Oh, Luz! It’s always nice to hear from you, and I can’t wait to see you tonight. You must have grown so much,” Gwendolyn assures her in a singsong voice. Then her voice changes. “Is everything alright? Why do you want to talk to Dell?”

“Umm, no reason? It’s a…” Luz hesitates for longer than it’s comfortable. “It’s a secret,” she finishes lamely.

“Is it about Lilith?”

Luz looks at her aunt, who’s shaking her head furiously.

“Uh, no?”

“Is Lilith there with you right now? Did she make you call us?”

“... no?”

“Are you sure?”

“...yes?”

“Very well, sweetie,” Gwendolyn says cheerfully. “Keep your secrets, then. I’ll find out when you’re ready. Dell! Your granddaughter wants to talk to you!”

They stand in silence for a second, Luz sweating profusely and Lilith practically vibrating with nervous energy.

“Yes?” Luz hears Dell’s voice, but before she can respond in any way, Lilith dives for the crow and snatches it out of her hands.

“Father, do not hang up on me again! This is of the utmost importance!”

Dell sighs heavily, but he’s apparently still there.

“Is the former Golden Guard my younger brother or not?”

“For the sixth time: he’s not,” Dell says in a tired voice.

“Are you absolutely sure? I watched him grow up, and he’s certainly annoying. I’ve done some research, and it seems those things are very typical of being a younger brother.” Lilith gulps loudly. “You can be honest with me, Father. This time, I’m ready for the truth. I know the last eleven calls didn’t go well, but this time—”

“I think he hung up,” Luz mutters because somebody has to say it.

“Oh no he didn’t!” Lilith hisses, though he most certainly did. She calls her parents again. This time, she doesn’t bother with an introduction and starts with, “When you called him ‘son,’ did you mean it as in a more affectionate way of saying ‘lad’ or ‘young man’? Or literally son?”

“Sweet flea,” Gwendolyn says deliberately slowly. “I’m not sure what it’s about, but you should take a few deep breaths and go on a walk. I think it might be one of your...” She lowers her voice, but Luz can still hear everything. “Episodes.”

Lilith glares at the crow. Luz takes a careful step backwards, hoping to get to the door and run to get help before her aunt notices what she’s doing.

“I’ll be there in an hour, sweetie, I’ll take care of you,” Gwendolyn assures her daughter. “I’m already leaving. Dad will be there in the evening as planned, alright?”

Cool Aunt Lilith loses her cool, there’s no other way to say it.

“No, Mother, no!” she yells into the phone, clearly on the verge of hysteria. “Nothing’s ready, nothing makes any sense, and Hooty doesn’t have enough branches!” She makes a distressed sound at the back of her throat. “I need more time! Please don’t come here now, please.”

Luz takes another step towards freedom.

“Oh, sweet flea. What doesn’t make sense?”

“Everything!” Lilith exclaims, throwing her hands up into the air and momentarily forgetting about the crow. She takes a deep breath and tries to use the proper volume this time. “Starting with the fact that I don’t know whether Hunter’s your child as well.”

“Sweet flea, there’s no need to be jealous, we love you so, so much, and—“

Luz hazards a look at the door. It’s just a few steps away now. She can make it.

“I don’t care!” Lilith shrieks. “I just want to know where to put him on that kingdamned tree, because if you’re adopting him, then you should take a number, wait in line, and I have no idea how to draw that line. Or where.”

The last part sounds more like a miserable whine than a proper scream.

Only two steps more.

“Sweet flea, we’re not adopting Hunter. Does he want us to adopt him?” Gwendolyn hesitates. “I guess the house is big enough, and he is a great help when he comes around for his carving lessons, so I’m sure we can work something out. He’s a really sweet kid, that boy.”

“No!” Lilith sobs. “I’m not asking you to adopt him, I’m asking whether you’ve done that or if you’re planning to do that.”

One step. Just one step left.

“We weren’t, but now that you’re proposing it, I think me and Dad need to talk about it. It’s not a bad idea—“

Luz’s back collides with the wall. That’s what happens when you don’t watch where you’re going.

“... although I’ve grown used to thinking of him as our grandson, you know?”

Luz doesn’t wait. She doesn’t pretend she’s not moving away anymore. She bolts for the door, though the sounds of Lilith’s anguish and frustration follow her.

.

Luz has no idea what Eda did to calm her sister down, but it worked. Apparently, both the elixir and apple blood were involved. Eda even managed to convince their mother to stay home for now and come here at the hour they’d settled on yesterday.

Cool Aunt Lilith remains in the room where she’s been working for the past few dozen hours, but she’s much more quiet. Eda tells everyone to give her some space, though that makes Hooty even more eager to assist his best friend. Luz and King are given a special assignment — keeping Hooty busy at all times and distracting him with something shiny whenever he’s reminded of Lilith’s existence.

It all works out. Sort of. They try to clean the house up, and Hooty smashes everything to pieces instead of rearranging it, but at least he’s busy. Luz tells Eda they were going for a more minimalist look when Eda asks about the trinkets that have disappeared from the shelves.

First to arrive are the guests from the human realm. Camila smiles nervously, still noticeably uneasy around things Luz had gotten used to within a day. Vee’s a bit jumpy, though she visibly relaxes when she enters the house, probably because here, no one can spot her. Which is weird, since the entire point of being a basilisk is looking the least suspicious way you can come up with. Hunter... well, Hunter is very obviously having a bad day and trying to hide it. He’s been here so many times, and yet the living room seems to bring up only one memory — the one of Hunter being here for the first time. It’s not the best of memories to have. Though, considering what followed, that one’s certainly not the worst. Luz makes sure to get him into the kitchen as soon as possible, making him watch the boiling water in order to stop it from pouring over. Hunter says something about the job being below his qualifications, but stares into the pot intently nonetheless.

His day is going to get much, much better soon enough.

Vee and Camila start setting the table, though the human has a lot of problems with the silverware, unable to tell eyeball openers from snake scalpels, and is increasingly alarmed by every new piece of information about demon realm cuisine.

Long before Gwendolyn and Dell arrive, King finds a new game to play, and, as always, it’s difficult to call it cruel when the little Titan’s malice is so dang cute. At first, he notices Hunter’s unease around him, though Hunter’s generally uneasy today, so it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. But then Hunter bows before King when for a second his reflexes replace his better judgement, and it is on.

“Fetch me the cookies, mortal,” King says, and Hunter complies. “No, not these, the ones on the highest shelf, the ones Eda doesn’t want me to reach. It is the Titan’s will that you give me the entire jar, for tonight I feast!

“It’s the Titan’s will that during dinner you will discreetly take all my veggies and give me your eyeballs instead.

“The Titan commands you to clean the Titan’s room.

“The Titan demands his back to be scratched, and you will heed his words.”

Luz intervenes before King makes Hunter clean up the bathroom, mostly because she has already done that. King doesn’t have enough decency to look embarrassed when Luz tries to scold him, and it’s impossible to be stern with him when his eyes are big like that, and his little paws are so adorable when they’re stomping in self-righteousness.

When Gwendolyn and Dell finally arrive, instead of saying hello, Gwendolyn immediately runs to Lilith’s base of operations. It’s been disturbingly quiet for the past few hours, though Luz hopes that it just means her aunt has fallen asleep. Camila sits there on the couch, trying not to get in anyone’s way and look polite at the same time, and Vee falls asleep with her head on her mother’s shoulder. Then comes Raine, and they get pulled into the preparations immediately.

Darius storms in on time, though that’s mostly because Eda told him the dinner started an hour earlier than they were actually planning. This way, Darius firmly believes he’s fashionably late. He starts with commenting on Hunter’s clothing choices, and then cuts himself off and hugs the boy. Hunter tenses up, though as far as Luz can tell, that’s just something he does. He’s still getting better at it, at least in comparison to his reactions from six months ago. It’s entirely possible that in three years or so he won’t flinch at sudden movement. Those things take time. It’s normal, it’s good. Everything’s good, and Luz has made sure to talk to everyone beforehand so that tonight nobody jumps out yelling “surprise!” at Hunter. So. Things are good.

“Love what you’ve done with the place, Edalyn,” Darius says, scrunching his nose in distaste at the knickknacks and mismatched colors. “How... unusual. So very… you.”

“Yeah, I’m amazing.” Eda waves a hand dismissively. “By the way, you don’t have to take your shoes off, I haven’t had the time to do a sweeping spell in weeks.”

“I have noticed,” Darius says icily.

Finally, Lilith emerges from the room, flanked by Gwendolyn and Eda. Her hair is still a mess, and her polite smile makes Luz think of mania for some reason, but she’s wearing different clothes and fresh makeup. When she enters the kitchen, Hunter gives her a wary nod.

“Well, if it isn’t Hunter Wittebane himself as I live and breathe!” Lilith exclaims, clapping her hands and sounding unnaturally shrill.

“Noceda,” he mumbles, not looking at her.

Lilith’s smile gets even wider.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Noceda,” Hunter repeats.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eda gestures impatiently, giving him a look Luz is pretty sure he’s not going to understand. “Hunter Deamonne Wi— Noceda in the flesh. Speaking of flesh, have you washed your hands? We’ll be starting to eat in a minute.”

“I think it’s just... Noceda,” Hunter says. He’s more awkward than insistent, but Lilith’s face contorts in a really weird manner at his words.

“Aren’t you literally a Wittebane?” she asks, and proceeds to ignore Hunter’s grimace. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you didn’t even know the man whose name you’re currently using.”

Hunter starts fidgeting nervously, and Luz can’t blame him, really.

“I mean, I never got to know Manny, but I do consider him sort of family,” he says. “He made Luz who she is now, so he’s responsible for at least half of my sister’s quirks that drive me insane. His photos are everywhere. And a lot of the Cosmic Frontier stuff in the basement isn’t Camila’s.” He looks up. “So he’s like this ancestor who I never met but who’s guiding me and looking at me, and, um, judging my performance?” Hunter hesitates. “Does that make any sense?”

“Yes,” says Luz.

“No,” says Lilith. Then she takes a deep breath. “Excuse me, I need to take care of something,” she adds in a very neutral voice, and then she leaves.

Gwendolyn and Eda exchange worried looks, and then the older woman runs off after her daughter.

“Servant! It’s the Titan’s will that he doesn’t overexert himself. Carry him to the table,” King says after a few seconds, jumping into Hunter’s arms without any warning. Hunter catches him reflexively, letting go of a plate in the process.

It was one of the fancy plates, with no obscenities and no puns engraved. Probably made of actual china, though Eda’s not entirely sure. Might have been just japan. It had a kitten with a bow on it, and it was supposed to inform everyone Eda’s a serious adult.

.

By the time Lilith’s ready to face the world again, Gus and Willow appear at the door. They weren’t invited per se, but they’d assumed the party had been going on for some time, and they want to congratulate Hunter on the momentous occasion. Luz manages to shush them before Hunter actually gets to hear them, and she’s suddenly really grateful for King making him run the most stupid of errands. They pull out the foldable chairs Luz has seen people use during some of the fancier outdoor events. There are still some paper flowers glued to them, and she briefly wonders how exactly Eda obtained those. Luz invites Amity over so that she doesn’t feel excluded. She wants to invite the rest of the Entrails as well, but apparently there are not enough chairs, even counting the ones Eda may or may not have stolen by crashing a wedding.

It’s dark by the time they finally get to gather around the table. It’s crowded, and once every few seconds somebody’s elbow collides with another person’s body part. It’s not that bad, they’re only two hours late. The turkey Camila brought from the human realm burned to crisp, since everyone had assumed it would fly out of the oven when ready. Anyway, the smell is covered by the vase full of moroses Luz put in the middle of the table. It’s a classy party.

When Cool Aunt Lilith finally joins them, she seems more laid back than ever. She even smiles without her eye doing that weird twitchy thing. When Luz leans in to get to the toemato and nails salad, she accidentally smells her aunt’s breath, and she suddenly understands the reason for Lilith’s changed attitude. The woman keeps quiet for the most part, though when she speaks, she does so unnaturally slowly and deliberately, very careful not to slur.

Hooty vomits owl pellets right in the middle of the table, and well, that’s certainly... something. Luz cleans it up as fast as she can while Lilith very carefully tries to calm the demon down, explaining that yes, everyone does appreciate Hooty’s contribution, and yes, he’s a great host and an even better friend. There’s a sickly greenish tinge to her face, and she purposefully doesn’t look at Hooty’s contribution.

Eda prepared her most spectacular dishes, though apparently in the demon realm the word means ”squinting at you due to lack of spectacles while being eaten.“ Despite not being exactly comfortable with the cups yelling at her, Camila tries to be as polite as possible, while Vee seems to be imbibing knowledge with growing excitement. It figures, her childhood in the demon realm wasn’t exactly, uh. Wasn’t exactly great.

Speaking of things that are not great—

Hunter and Lilith seem to be having an argument over Lilith’s handling of the Coven’s internal affairs during her tenure. They talk in the most disturbingly polite manner Luz has ever heard. They’re both smiling the whole time, and they keep using phrases such as “if you don’t mind” or “please be so kind as to remember.” Hunter compares the findings of efficiency reports while Lilith points out the noticeable decrease of morale under the Golden Guard’s management. Hooty interjects with an enthusiastic “you tell him, Lulu,” though he tends to do that at the most inappropriate moments.

“Is everything alright?” Hunter inquires respectfully at some point. “The vein on your forehead—“

“Oh, it’s perfectly alright,” Lilith assures him cheerfully. “It tends to happen when I’m reminded of incompetence. But it’s awfully kind of you to ask.”

“It’s no problem at all, Ms. Clawthorne.” Hunter smiles radiantly. “I just think it’s important to pay attention to such details, especially past a certain age.”

There’s a screeching sound, and it takes Luz a few seconds to realize that it comes from Lilith’s fingernails on the table. For some reason, Hooty uses this exact moment to cheer.

“Oh, worry not, my dear,” Lilith says sweetly, staring daggers at Hunter. “The adults have it all under control. After all, they’re the ones who should be handling responsibilities. And I assure you, I never lacked attention to detail, as the spending reports testify.”

Hunter makes a show of squinting at her over the table.

“Are you absolutely certain, Ms. Clawthorne?” he asks in his most polite voice. “That vein is really throbbing, you’re going to get an awful headache.”

“It’s perfectly alright, I’m used to it. We’ve had quite a lot of entertaining talks over the years, the two of us.”

“Oh, they were interesting indeed. It’s always good to learn about the old ways, however outdated they might seem,” Hunter agrees. At some point, all the other noise has died down, and now everyone’s listening to them. “But I believe you should pay a healer a visit, especially if that’s a recurring health issue. I could swear your forehead looked exactly the same that time when you assigned me six patrols in a row and forgot I needed to sleep or eat.” He shrugs. “High blood pressure might mess with one’s cognitive capabilities and decision-making. Yet another example of possible problems with the effectiveness of troops.”

Everyone stares at Lilith, and her face changes from white to red rapidly.

“Well, that’s one hell of a chilling factoid right there if you ask me,” Eda deadpans.

“Nobody asked,” Lilith mutters, and Hooty chooses this exact moment to yell “you go girl” at the top of his lungs.

“And how old exactly were you back then?” Eda asks Hunter conversationally, apparently deciding to drive the knife in.

“Eleven,” he says, slightly disoriented by everybody’s reaction. “And apparently less oblivious to basic facts about duty rosters than some people who were put in charge.”

“Oh, great. He was eleven, everyone,” Eda informs the room.

“Eda,” Raine hisses at her. “You can’t just ask someone how old they were when they were abused.”

“Right. Because clearly I’m the one whose actions should be questioned,” Eda replies, and she’s not even pretending to be whispering. Her words are met with dead silence, and Cool Aunt Lilith is looking everywhere else.

“Hunter,” Darius finally says, and he’s quiet, but everyone can still hear him. “Remember what we were talking about?”

“That I was supposed to keep it light?” Hunter asks in genuine confusion. “But I am! That’s a funny memory, a good anecdote, a ‘case in point’ kind of story. It has everything: slight misfortune, forgetfulness and the embarrassing implications of it. It’s exactly like that one you told me.” He gestures at Darius enthusiastically. “You know, the one about you killing Terra’s precious plant by pouring grape blood into the flowerpot by the end of the party?”

Hunter chuckles, though Willow makes a horrified gasp.

“Or, or it’s kinda like that time when you sent me on a mission to bring you weregoat’s pelt,” he continues, much to Darius’ horror. “And told me not to come back without it, even though it turned out weregoats have been extinct for decades? That was so stupid it was silly. It’s basically the same!”

Hunter smiles, exposing the gap between his teeth, and apparently looking for some support.

All eyes turn to Darius. The silence lasts way too long. It’s even worse than the pause Amity made when Darius called Alador’s abomination technique “passable.”

And then King snatches Hunter’s dessert, and he replies to the boy’s aggravated “hey!” with something that is probably supposed to be “will of the Titan.” It’s hard to tell when King stuffs an entire muffin into his mouth. Luz has never felt so grateful in her entire life.

“Sooo...” Camila starts, clearly unsure where to go with the sentence but determined to change the subject nonetheless. “Is grape blood worse for the soil than, say, apple blood? And why?”

Willow, finally in her element, starts explaining the intricacies of plant blood’s effects on other plants, and that definitely shuts Hunter up. He’s so focused on Willow that he has probably forgotten about Lilith’s existence. There’s a slight blush blooming on his cheeks, and the dinner is saved.

Well, for an entire two minutes.

“That’s so cool! You must have studied this since you were a baby!” Vee exclaims.

“No, actually, I switched my track to plants only a few months ago,” Willow says, addressing the silverware in front of her. “I didn’t get to perform plant magic that much before.”

Luz really wants to stop Vee, but her mind is absolutely blank for a second.

A second is enough for Vee to say, “Whoa, so you’re an expert at more than one track? That’s incredible! Everyone at school must have envied you. I always wanted to be popular like that.”

Willow gulps. Luz hazards a look at her girlfriend, and Amity’s expression is quite similar to the one Lilith was sporting a few minutes ago.

“Yeah. No.” Willow starts fiddling with the spork. “I wasn’t exactly great at abomination magic. My parents just really wanted me to study it, even though I sucked at it, and everyone knew that. I think my dads thought I would fit in this way, but it made making friends even more difficult. And there were other... obstacles.” She forces her lips to smile. “But it’s all different now.”

“Oh mija, were you bullied?” Camila asks, horrified, though certainly not more horrified than Amity at the moment. “That’s terrible! Was that... was that because you were adopted?”

Well, that’s not something anyone expected.

“What?” Willow asks. “Why?” She does a double take, and she settles on, “What?”

Luz winces in sympathy, watching in real time as her mother’s face grows so hot it could rival the Boiling Sea.

“Oh no, no, no, sorry. I mean, I assumed... well—“

Now everyone is staring at Camila.

“What I meant was...” She trails off. “I thought that was how it worked, given your parents being a... non-traditional family. Were you bullied because of that?”

“What do you mean ‘non-traditional,’” Eda cuts in, bewildered. “They’re the most boring, traditional family I’ve ever encountered.”

“Eda,” Luz finally interjects, and she even manages to avoid nervous laughter. “Didn’t you end up with your high school sweetheart? Sounds pretty traditional to me.”

“Yeah, but we were estranged for decades, and we bonded over the act of overthrowing the government,” Raine says, giving her a lopsided smile. “So it doesn’t really count.”

“It totally counts,” Gus informs them. “You’re holding hands under the table with your childhood crush, you think we haven’t noticed? Face it, you’re boring, traditional adults.”

“You take that back,” Eda roars, and for almost a minute she gets into a heated argument with a twelve-year-old, which gives Luz enough time to lean towards her mother. Camila is eyeing her rainbow badge with a guilty expression.

“Don’t worry, Mamá,” Luz whispers conspiratorially. “This realm has a lot of problems. Just not this specific one.”

Camila looks at her, unconvinced.

“Realmente, Mamá, that was an honest mistake. I don’t think anyone here even understood. You’re still an ally. Luz-certified.”

Too busy handling this potential disaster, with Gus and Eda yelling at each other and Raine laughing at them, Darius ranting about Eda’s home decor way too loudly, Gwendolyn trying to stop King from eating another confectionary, and Hunter and Lilith once again politely at each other’s throats for some unfathomable reason, Luz doesn’t notice Hooty slowly creeping behind Hunter’s chair until it’s too late.

Chapter Text

Hooty wraps himself around Hunter, and the boy shrieks in terror as he’s suddenly lifted into the air. Which, Luz must admit, is the only appropriate reaction to the experience.

“Awkward family hug!” Hooty announces, and now Hunter’s dread is partially replaced by bafflement. “Everybody join in!”

Nobody joins in.

“Let go of me!” Hunter screeches. He tries thrashing around, and he’s completely ignored.

“Hooty,” Eda scolds the demon. “Not the time.”

King peers at them from behind the stack of buns he  collected on his plate while the others were looking somewhere else.

“It’s been the time for hours! I’m bored.” He stuffs a cookie into his mouth, even though at this point he’s visibly fighting nausea. “I want my cake.”

Hunter tries to bite Hooty while kicking furiously, but the only thing he manages to accomplish is Hooty wrapping himself even tighter around him.

“King, you’re already on a sugar rush, you’ll be throwing up in a few minutes,” Eda warns her son, to which King responds with eating another cookie and fighting to stop it from emerging back.

Hunter gives up for the moment. Now he just sort of... dangles there, limp in Hooty’s embrace. His expression still clearly communicates he’s not happy with the development.

“If you’re perhaps considering telling this thing to stop squishing me, please take your time,” he says acerbically, and then he gasps as Hooty hugs him even tighter. “By all means!” he adds, since apparently he’s not a person to shut up even while being strangled.

“Alright, Hooty, let junior go,” Eda says, and somehow she manages to sound dismissive of the whole affair.

Hooty complies, and Hunter lands back on his chair with a pained grunt. He scowls in the general direction of the room.

“Hooty’s right, though. It’s probably the time,” Eda continues. “Luz, you’re gonna do the honors or what? Ya ready?”

“I was born ready!” Luz informs everyone. She jumps up and climbs onto the table a little more awkwardly than she was hoping. She clenches her fists in order to stop herself from making excited little sounds. She clears her throat instead.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and others! My honored guests!” she bellows, and Hunter flinches slightly at that. “Some of you already know, to some of you it may come as a surprise, but we have gathered here not only to eat and drink and argue.”

“But mostly for the last part, apparently,” Darius mutters under his breath.

“Can it,” Eda hisses at him. “You’re just jealous you didn’t come up with the idea.”

“Well yes, Edalyn, I would never come up with this,” he hisses back, and it’s fascinating how loud such a sound can get. “If I were to throw this kind of a party, it would indeed look quite different.”

“Not your fault, though,” the hostess consoles him in a stage whisper. “We’re just better at being a family than you are.”

“This is! Also! A celebration! My dear everyone!” Luz carries on perhaps a bit too loudly, desperately trying to ignore the adults who refuse to act like ones. “The Clawthorne family has been steadily growing in numbers, with Eda adopting every child she runs into and all.” Luz’s speech is interrupted by Eda’s snort, but she ignores it gracefully. “But tonight we wanted to announce that it’s getting even bigger.”

This could have gone down in many ways, Luz thinks in retrospect. But she certainly didn’t expect it to go the way it actually did.

“Ha! I knew it!” Hunter hollers, pointing an accusatory finger at Cool Aunt Lilith. “You’re pregnant!”

“What?” Lilith sputters.

Hunter adopts this smug look he gets when he figures something out and decides to be insufferable about it.

“Only an idiot wouldn’t notice,” he says with a shrug. “The irrationality and irritability, the obvious tiredness? The unkempt hair? You must have been throwing up all morning.”

“What.”

“And if we add to that the fact that you’ve clearly put on some weight—“

“I’ve lost some, actually,” Lilith says with as much calm as she can muster. The vein on her forehead is doing that thing again.

“Really?” Hunter examines her carefully. “Doesn’t show.”

“Don’t listen to him, Lulu,” Hooty chimes in, because clearly what this conversation lacked was his input. “You look great! Radiant and glowing. Blossoming with new life.”

“I would rather say you look as to be expected in your condition,” Hunter decides. “Speaking of which, you really shouldn’t be drinking apple blood.”

Luz looks around the table, but there’s no help on its way. Eda appears to be on the verge of tears, trying to hold back laughter, and Raine doesn’t look much better. Gus is openly chuckling while, judging by the sounds, Willow and Amity keep kicking him under the table. Camila makes a helpless gesture, clearly having promised herself to keep quiet after the last blunder. King’s sugar rush must have worn off, and he is mercifully asleep with his adorable little head on the plate still full of confectionaries. Darius’ palm is covering his face, while Gwendolyn and Dell look at their older daughter in concern. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Hunter, you’ve got it all wrong,” Luz says miserably. “Aunt Lilith’s not pregnant. At least I don’t think she is?”

“I’m not,” Lilith confirms, holding her chin up regally. “I’m quite sure I would be the first to know, certainly before the Golden Guard.”

“Hunter,” he corrects her reflexively.

“Uh...” Luz says, desperately trying to regain control over the room. “Anyway. It does have something to do with Aunt Lilith. In a way, I mean. As a bad girl historian, she has taken a look at our family records, and guess what she’s found!”

“Chaos. Pure chaos,” Lilith whispers, and Luz could swear she saw her shiver.

“Well, but besides that?” Luz suddenly regrets standing on the table, since now she can’t nudge her aunt in encouragement.

“Besides that, I have discovered some new pieces of information.”

And then she falls silent.

After fifteen seconds, Hunter raises his eyebrow at her impatiently, and then Lilith just gets up and leaves the room.

“Well, that was indeed interesting,” Hunter observes.

Luz stares at Gus in exasperation, and he gives her a blank look. Willow elbows the little illusionist and whispers something, and only then he smiles in understanding. He draws a spell circle, and the room is immediately bathed in colorful light.

There are gigantic glowing letters floating above the table, and they look really cool and really pretty. Except there’s one problem.

Luz hazards a look at Hunter, who’s tilting his head, trying to make sense of the inscription from where he’s sitting.

“Gus,” Amity intervenes. “They’re facing us, not Hunter.”

“Oh,” Gus says, though he doesn’t sound embarrassed. He makes a slight gesture, and the words turn around.

Luz jumps down next to Hunter’s chair.

“Weeell? What do you think?” she asks, going for nonchalant but failing miserably.

The letters sparkle and shimmer, and they say “CONGRATULATIONS, YOU’RE TECHNICALLY A CLAWTHORNE.”

Hunter furrows his brows. “About what?”

“That!” Luz points at the letters with urgency.

“I mean, I’m willing to give my condolences to the interested party as soon as you tell us who they are,” Hunter says, and oh God, have they really forgotten to include his name in the inscription?

Yes, of course they have.

“Oh, for Titan’s sake. Seriously, it’s like pulling teeth with you,” Eda grunts. “And I’ve had my share of experience with that, believe me. It’s you, Blondie. You’re a Clawthorne.”

He blinks at her owlishly. Luz nudges him with a wide smile, though he doesn’t return it.

“But I’m a Noceda,” he murmurs, sending Camila a pleading look. She gives him a reassuring nod and a smile but doesn’t say anything.

Luz makes an excited squeal, and she really, really knows she shouldn’t hug Hunter at a moment like this, but she does so nonetheless. It’s a special occasion, after all.

“You’re a Noceda and a Clawthorne!” she explains, beaming. “Caleb Wittebane married a Clawthorne and they had a kid, and now you’re my most sibling the ever!”

“... that doesn’t make any sense grammatically,” Hunter mutters, examining the contents of his mostly empty plate and refusing to lift his gaze. “You can’t just put words together at random and hope for the best.”

And Vee looks a bit hurt for some reason.

“One of us!” Luz starts chanting, wrapping her hand around Hunter’s shoulders. “One of us! One of us!” Nobody picks it up, and she trails off awkwardly after the sixth attempt.

Darius hands Hunter an elegant greeting card.

“Felicitations,” Hunter reads aloud. “They’ve apparently accepted you into their circle of freaks. You should fit right in.” He looks up, and he must be really overwhelmed with joy. That’s why he’s not processing things correctly or smiling. “Uh. I don’t know what to say.”

"Never thought I'd see the day," Eda mutters, but Luz sends her a pointed look and she closes her mouth.

Aunt Lilith enters the room, carrying a huge roll of paper. She eyes the cluttered table for a second, and then she dumps the roll onto the floor unceremoniously and starts opening it.

“I have taken the liberty of creating a more... accurate Clawthorne family tree,” she informs them, though Luz would really wish for her to sound more enthusiastic.

With the exception of King, who’s still sound asleep, one by one, they all stand up and gather around Lilith. Even Hunter, though he’s weirdly reluctant. They look at the figure spread on the floor, and for an entire agonizing minute, no one says anything.

“I don’t get it,” Hunter finally admits.

“Thank you! I thought I was the only one,” Gus says. “I felt so stupid for a moment.”

“Same here,” Amity offers.

Lilith just glares at them, and so nobody else joins in the already loud choir of confused voices.

“Lily has thought long and hard about it,” Eda says. “Some might even say, too hard. There’s a system to that, I guarantee you.”

“A method to this madness,” Luz supplies with her best reassuring smile.

“I’m not mad,” Lilith says, and her voice is trembling just a little. “There’s no madness. Now it all makes perfect sense. It starts with Caleb Wittebane who is also Hunter, and it ends with Hunter who is also Caleb Wittebane, and he has a lot of family, and apparently he has been adopted by every person alive. And King’s right there, at the very top, above everyone else.”

“You did well, sweet flea,” Gwendolyn assures her without much conviction.

Luz notices Hunter cringe at the mention of Caleb Wittebane, but he collects himself quickly.

“I’m not an expert at family trees,” he says carefully. “But aren’t they supposed to look like trees?”

“Again: thank you!” Gus exclaims.

Eda scratches her head and fishes something out of her hair. She eyes it suspiciously, and then she puts it back.

“I know the answer to that one. Hooty’s the trunk,” she says. “He wanted to be included.”

“I always do and I never am, hoot-hoot!”

Hunter squints at the drawing and takes a few steps to see it from a different angle.

“I don’t think the trunk itself is the problem here,” he decides. “Trees are universally known to be, you know. Tree-shaped.”

“The ‘tree’ part in family tree is a metaphor,” Lilith says crisply.

“I get that, yeah. But I don’t think it’s supposed to be… this. They don’t usually call it the circle of descent.”

Everyone nods.

“I don’t care what they call it!” Lilith snaps, and then blushes in embarrassment. She tries again. “Look,” she says with a sigh. “I’ve made numerous attempts. That was the only way to visually represent the entire... ordeal. And it’s not a circle, it’s Ouroboros.” She looks up and meets Hooty’s eyes. “Or should I say... Hooroboros?”

“You shouldn’t, but you went and said it anyway.” Eda shrugs.

“You certainly did, Lulu!”

They fall silent for a moment, and Lilith looks like she’s about to cry.

“Hooty has legs,” Amity finally volunteers, perhaps because she just wants to say anything to break the silence, or perhaps because she simply can’t stop herself from correcting a mistake when she sees one.

“What?”

“Hooty has legs. He’s not a snake.” Amity starts scrolling through her Penstragram account. “I have some pictures from the Moonlight Conjuring, just give me a minute.”

“Yep, Hooty totally had legs. The entire house was walking around,” Willow confirms.

“It was badass,” Gus adds. “Or badlegs.”

Lilith clenches her fists on her lap and takes a very loud breath in. She closes her eyes, and exhales slowly.

“He’s swallowed them,” she says decisively. “That’s why they’re not in the picture. He’s swallowing himself, and that also means  his legs. It holds a deep symbolic meaning, and it represents the cycle of time and Hunter being his own ancestor.” She looks around. “Any further questions?”

Gus raises a hand.

“Shouldn’t I be there?” he asks.

Luz smiles nervously. “I think Aunt Lilith’s question about, uh, questions was rhetorical.”

But the damage has already been done.

“And why exactly should you be there?” Lilith asks, narrowing her eyes at the illusionist.

“I mean, since you’ve added people who are not blood-related, like Luz and Vee…”

“We’re Hunter’s family,” Camila says firmly.

“Yeah, but I’m sort of his little brother.”

Hunter taps a finger to his chin. “He is sort of my little brother,” he confirms.

It’s hard to tell whether the sound that leaves Lilith’s mouth is a laugh or a wail.

“In what way?” she asks as she fumbles around for a quill. “In what possible way is Augustus your brother?”

Her fingers are noticeably shaking. “Augustus Porter,” she writes down in uneven letters next to the already huge amount of other names.

“Well, in the same way Willow’s my big sister, I guess,” Gus supplies helpfully.

“So should I perhaps add Willow as Hunter’s sister as well?” Lilith asks with maniacal politeness. “There’s still some room in here, since apparently we’ve given up on aesthetics or common  sense.”

“No,” Hunter says way too quickly. Luz holds back a snort, noticing the shade of red he has turned. “No, definitely no. No.” He starts laughing nervously. “Yeah, no. Why would you say something like that?”

Willow blushes furiously as well.

“Alright!” Luz exclaims unnaturally loudly, clasping her hands. “Somebody wake King up, it’s time for the cake!”

“I’m already awake, you all keep yelling,” King mumbles into his plate. Then he straightens his back, processing what he’s just heard. “Did you say cake?”

“I sure did, buddy!” Luz says happily. King really shouldn’t be eating any more sugar tonight, and he’s probably not going to be the only one who regrets the fact that he will keep eating sugar nonetheless. Luz mentally prepares herself for cleaning up puke from the furniture, but it’s still better than people paying attention to Lilith’s tree and asking questions. There are days when it’s either being a good big sister, or a good niece.

There are two cakes, actually. The frosting on one of them says, “Welcome to the family, Hun” because Eda’s terrible at assessing how much space something is going to take up and how big the letters should be. The other one, set down directly in front of King, says, “You’re the most important.” Thankfully, both cakes are quite small, though King’s is a bit bigger due to his, well, his unique and very much endearing  personality.

The Titan looks at the offering in amazement, but when Luz proposes to cut it for him, he gulps loudly.

“I have feasted enough for now,” he decides regretfully. “Distribute it among my subjects. Let them eat cake!”

And so they eat cake. After two minutes, King’s resolve disappears, and he demands to be given Hunter’s slice. Yes, mortal, Hunter’s specifically.

In three minutes, he runs towards the bathroom, though the noises suggest he doesn’t make it. Eda gestures for Luz and Camila to remain seated, and leaves the room to assist her son. When she comes back, informing everyone that King’s been tucked to sleep, she’s wearing different clothes, and nobody asks any questions. They eat and laugh some more, they argue over stupid things, and Darius has probably strained some muscles by rolling his eyes so frequently.

Lilith falls asleep on the couch, and nobody wakes her up. Gwendolyn covers her with a blanket, Hooty wraps himself around her protectively, and Raine uses some simple spell that encloses the couch in a small bubble of silence.

Vee seems a bit subdued, though Luz’s sure it’s just tiredness. Eda and Raine flirt shamelessly, ignoring Gus’ “not in front of my cake.” Willow and Amity whisper and giggle, since the night has reached the point when it feels more like a sleepover than a party. Amity even offers to do Willow’s hair. And Hunter—

Hunter’s gone. Luz doesn’t know when that happened. He was sitting right there just a few minutes ago. Perhaps a few dozen. Where could he have gone to?

She starts with the bathroom, then the kitchen, and he’s not there. She finds him pretty quickly nonetheless. He’s just sitting on one of the very crooked swings Eda created for King when they moved back to the Owl House. Hunter is staring into the night, his feet dangling over the ground.

“I think I like the stars in the human realm better,” he says without turning his head as she approaches him.

For a moment, Luz just huffs and makes a lot of small pained noises, trying to squeeze in and sit on the other swing. It’s considerably smaller, given that it’s supposed to be for Francois. She’s not even sure she can risk taking her feet off the ground.

 “I think they’re pretty in both realms,” she finally says, trying to untangle her limbs. “Though prettier in this one. But that’s just me.”

Hunter grunts in acknowledgement, and they both sit in silence for a moment. It’s getting a bit chilly, and Luz would appreciate going back inside, even if only to grab some coats. She doesn’t want to ruin the moment, though.

“Don’t you think we always consider the things we can’t have prettier?” Hunter finally says.

Luz takes a leap of faith and carefully raises her feet into the air. The swing doesn’t fall apart, and so she proceeds to kick her legs. That’s what swings are for.

“Kinda? I mean, yeah, the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, yadda yadda,” she says. “But not really? We get to choose the side of the fence, after all.”

“Do we?”

There’s some inexplicable sadness to Hunter’s voice. Luz doesn’t really get it, there’s a working portal, Hunter’s surrounded by his family, said family just got a lot bigger, and the party was a hoot. Pun intended.

“Sure we do,” she says. “Not in the universal sense, of course. There’s a lot of people who don’t get to choose. But we do, and we should appreciate that.”

Hunter nods, though he doesn’t seem any happier.

“But I didn’t choose to be who I am,” he says eventually.

It’s not really a profound realization, let’s be honest. Nobody chooses that, and usually you reach this kind of an existential crisis by the time you’re twelve. But Luz knows that normal existential crises don’t include being full of somebody else’s body parts, so she stops herself from interrupting.

“For so long, I thought I was the Golden Guard,” he carries on. “Then it turned out I’m… something else. I thought I made peace with that, and for a moment I was just, you know. Hunter. I liked flyer derby, wild magic, wolves, and sewing things. I lived with my human family. But now…”

He falls silent.

“You are just Hunter,” Luz says emphatically. “Those are things that make you who you are, and they’re not going to disappear.”

“But I’m not just Hunter, am I. Turns out I’m also a Clawthorne, which is basically a nice way of saying I’ve always been a copy of Caleb Wittebane. That’s it. And I didn’t realize it until today, but that’s what everybody sees when they look at me. That’s what Lilith’s, erm, tree says.”

Luz looks down, and suddenly she notices Hunter’s been tracing circles in the dirt with his heel. He must have been doing it for quite some time.

You’ve got it all wrong, she wants to say. Of course we see you for who you are. That’s why we’re accepting you into the family, drama queen.

But is that true? Would the entire party have happened had Lilith not stumbled upon the information about Caleb marrying Evelyn? Would they have welcomed him as a Clawthorne if he weren’t their, uh, what exactly? Ancestor? Offspring? Blood relative? Nobody said anything about him being family before Lilith’s discovery. So was it really about Hunter? Or was it about Caleb? Or about everyone else wanting to have a say in who Hunter is?

Hunter had just finished figuring things out. This was such a stupid idea.

“That sucks,” he adds staring into space before Luz comes up with anything worthy of saying.

“It does, doesn’t it.”

“I’ve already said it does,” Hunter snaps a bit impatiently. “Sorry,” he adds after a beat.

They go back to staring at nothing in particular.

“In the human realm, they have a saying.” Luz fiddles with her hands. “Blood is thicker than water. But—“

Hunter just snorts.

“Yeah, they’ve probably never seen the water on the Knee.”

“Is it especially thick?” Luz asks, easily derailed from her train of thought. “Did the Titan have some kind of a… joint condition?”

“What? No. It’s ice. So I’d say, it’s much thicker than blood.”

“We have ice in the human realm,” Luz informs him. “I daresay, we have more ice than the demon realm has, given that most of the water here is boiling.”

“Well then.” Hunter shrugs. “All the more reason for humans to know that water can be much thicker than blood.”

“Yeah, but that’s figurative,” Luz starts saying. “The point is…” She looks at Hunter’s profile. “The point is…“ She trails off.

“That’s a great point,” he admits after a few seconds.

Could he stop doing that for just a minute, or is it physically impossible for him? It’s the second time tonight, and perhaps it’s a bit funny, but it gets old quickly.

They just sit there in the cold, listening to occasional laughter or a yell coming from the house.

It was supposed to be his house as well. His home. After so many years of trauma and neglect, Hunter was supposed to have as many homes and as many family members as possible, and he was supposed to be happy and excited about it, just like Luz was. What’s better than having a family? And what’s better than having one you actually share ancestors with? No one can deny kinship, no matter how much someone screws up, no matter what kind of person they end up being, they’re still family and they need to be loved and respected. You grind your teeth and ignore the bad stuff because they’re family, and family’s the most important thing there is.

Oh. Oh boy.

It’s ridiculous, how long it takes Luz to realize that for Hunter, that’s not a novel idea. And  that perhaps there are reasons for him not to be thrilled with it.

“You know what?” she decides, and she should have done it much sooner. “I say let’s go for the, hah, nuclear option.”

Hunter gives her a blank look.

“See what I did there?” she asks hopelessly, and Hunter shakes his head. “Because the word could refer to a family model or to, um, a—a bomb?” She smiles, struck with sudden realization. “A-bomb, specifically!”

Hunter just stares at her, and that’s really a shame. Those were amazing puns, and apparently she wasted them. She’s truly underappreciated in her time.

“As a Clawthorne, I hereby kick you out of the Clawthorne family,” she explains. Then, she throws her fist into the air, and Hunter flinches at the sudden movement. “Bam, you’re out! From now on, you’re just a Noceda,” she pronounces, and then she lowers her voice significantly in case someone could overhear them. “Screw Aunt Lilith’s tree. It’s not even a proper tree.”

“It’s one of the most disturbing images I have ever seen,” Hunter admits with half a smile. “Especially since Amity told us Hooty has legs. Which, by the way, is yet another deeply disturbing image. And I’ve had my share of those.”

They both wince, thinking back to the same mindscape.

“So I’m a grimwalker of a human, raised as a witch. I wanted to live with my human family, but my actual family’s right here, and they’re all witches.” He chuckles mirthlessly. “Some of them are even powerless, just like me. So what does it make me?”

“Stop overcomplicating things, white boy.” Luz gently bumps his arm with a fist. “Either way, you’re my brother. And Vee’s, on the Noceda side. You’re Camila’s son, and you can live with us and watch your Cosmic Frontier adaptations with Mom, and I’m going to make fun of both of you nerds for the rest of your lives.”

“I think that’s a Clawthorne bully, not the Noceda speaking right now.” He smirks. “Azura fan.”

They fall silent again. For the first time tonight, it’s not awkward or uncomfortable. Luz shivers slightly, and she notices Hunter do the same. It figures, he’s been sitting here much longer.

“Look. So you’re a grimwalker. I don’t know if that makes you a witch, a human or—” Luz giggles, unable to help herself. “Or a secret third thing. All I can tell you is that nobody chooses their family, we can only decide what we do later on and how we deal with, uh. Things. And believe me, being dragged into an awkward family dinner and being put in the center of attention while you really don’t want to be there? That’s like the ultimate human experience. And I’m pretty sure it’s also a witch experience. Just be happy they didn’t ask you about your grades and future career plans.”

Hunter gives her a lopsided smile.

“I’m not sure if that’s a grimwalker experience, given the whole grimwalker… deal,” she carries on. “But I think it’s this grimwalker’s experience, and since you’re probably the only one out there, it’s automatically every grimwalker’s experience.”

“Oh, joy,” Hunter deadpans, though by now, he sounds more snarky than sad.

“So you be careful what you do, you’re setting rules for your entire species. But most importantly, for Hunters. And I think the important thing is you do well by Hunters, you know?”

“All of them?” he asks in mock dread.

“All of them,” Luz confirms. “Especially Hunter Nocedas, those are the most precious ones, they occur in only one family. Nowhere else. If you want to hurt one of those, you gotta get through me first.”

Hunter gives her an appraising look.

“With your noodle arms? You wouldn’t stop an angry kitten,” he scoffs. “Plus, you have zero resilience. You’re already shivering, and that’s just sad.”

He gets up, pretending not to shiver himself.

“I guess we have no choice but to go back inside, eh?” He shrugs. “You’re gonna do a really lousy job at protecting any Nocedas if you can’t protect the Luz from catching cold. And that’s one of my favorite Nocedas.”

And they go back inside, the human girl who decided a grimwalker was her brother, and the grimwalker who just rolled with it. The house is full of witches, and it’s warm, noisy, and it smells pretty bad. There’s a ton of dirty dishes and a stained carpet to take care of, and suddenly everyone with magic has something better to do.

Luz starts with a masterful performance of tripping over the rug and smashing the remains of the cake she’s carrying into Lilith’s Hooroboros. Vee sends her a knowing smile.

Thankfully, Cool Aunt Lilith doesn’t wake up. She’s tossing in her sleep, mumbling, though Raine’s bubble stops most of these sounds. Around midnight, she sits up and shrieks something about great-aunt’s cousins so loudly they all hear it. Eda calms her down and gives her some more apple blood. Then she herself takes a generous swig out of the bottle. It’s something Luz should start worrying about at some point.

But for now, she has other things to worry about. It’s not that she doesn’t feel bad about disregarding Lilith’s research completely. She knows how much energy and effort her aunt has put into it. She’s pretty sure Lilith is going to be haunted by the memories of this process for years. But when Luz looks at Hunter, currently clinging to their mother and arguing about his Cosmic Frontier headcanons he refuses to acknowledge as headcanons, she doesn’t regret her choices in the slightest.

Still, she’s going to suffer through a very unpleasant conversation when her favorite aunt wakes up and notices what’s happened to her work.

The circles Hunter’s drawn in the dirt don’t disappear overnight. Luz can’t help being a bit disappointed. It feels like they should. From the narrative standpoint, they totally should, but apparently it doesn’t work like that. She ignores them in the morning.