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Organized chaos is the best way to explain what happens once the pink vapor cloud of the potion finally begins to dissipate.
Within moments the royal guards have taken over, rushing towards the window Kronk had just appeared from to drag him and a still dazed, but highly agitated kitty Yzma away, and to figure out how to bring Kuzco and Pacha back inside safely. Kuzco blinks his eyes open to glance first across the platform at Pacha, who is staring back at him in what he assumes to be relieved shock and then down at his very human, very NAKED body.
“We did it! Hah! Look, Pach! I’m ME again! Yay for me!”
Hands scrabble to press against his chest, feeling his skin to make sure there isn’t any fur, and laughing a little as he makes sure everything is still in working order. Modest isn’t a word one could ever use to describe Kuzco, having grown up in a palace surrounded by servants who dress, massage and bathe you for special ceremonies (or for whenever he feels like it, honestly), so his current state of undress doesn’t even register until Pacha clears his throat to speak.
“Kuzco.”
Broken out of his thoughts at the sound of Pacha’s strained voice, Kuzco glances up only to find a poncho hovering in front of his face and blocking his line of sight. He blinks, confused and leans around the side of it to stare at Pacha, only to find the llama herder using his unoccupied hand to shield his eyes from the view.
“What are you, five?” He quips, amused.
“Kuzco, take the poncho. You can’t address your public and announce that you aren’t dead like that.” Pacha grits out, and the Emperor snickers as he takes the familiar clothing item and slips it over his head. This is the second time Pacha has offered it to him, the first time being when he was shivering and curled up on the ground in the jungle, and for reasons he doesn’t quite understand he can feel himself almost tearing up from the sentimentality of it.
Someone clears their throat above them, and they both look up to find the Royal Record Keepers head poking out of the window, staring down at them and gesturing wildly.
“Are you both okay? Oh! I can’t believe you’re alive, Kuzco! Thank Inti! We were so worried! Oh we have to—“
RRK quickly disappears, presumably to start barking orders at servants and the scribe to summon the council and schedule an audience and Kuzco sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sure didn’t miss all of that.” He mutters, just loud enough for Pacha to hear him over the wind.
Relief is a tangible thing in that moment, unseen but heavily felt in the air between them and they share a quiet look of amused understanding that only two people who have shared a figurative fox hole are capable of.
Sometime later, after he and Pacha are hoisted through the window and back onto solid ground, and Kuzco has been checked out by the Royal Healers to ensure there aren’t any injuries or side effects from the spell, the two of them are briefly separated while Kuzco speaks with his advisors and makes plans to announce his good health. It’s taxing, and all he wants to do is take the longest bath of his life, have a massage and curl up in bed for a solid week– responsibilities be damned. But it’s a necessary evil, and once he’s crossed all his t’s and dotted his i’s, the council and most of the guards finally leave him alone.
“What would you like done with them?”
The question catches him off guard, and Kuzco spins around to ask the guard who he’s talking about when he finally notices Kitty Yzma thrashing against the bars of a makeshift cat carrier sitting on the floor. Kronk is sitting beside her, unusually stoic and he wonders not for the first time how someone like him could get caught up with someone like the living crypt keeper.
“Well, I’m sure not taking them to dinner, chuckles.” It’s directed at the guard, but Kuzco is watching Kronk when he makes the comment and notices the visible flinch he gives at the mention of a ‘dinner’.
If he had to bet, he’d guess the big buffoon didn’t even realize what he was doing and was more interested in impressing him with that dinner than actively trying to hurt him. What a shame. “Take them to the dungeon. Let them rot down there for a while we figure out what to do with them. But first– I’d like a word with kitty kitty.”
Yzma hisses at the nickname, and that alone makes this inevitable conversation all the more worth it. Kuzco smirks as he heads over to the carrier, bending down so he’s not exactly face to face with the feline, but more than close enough to catch her eyes.
“Hey, look at the bright side! At least you have hair now!” Kuzco teases, grinning when he’s met with a nose twitching scowl.
“Kuzco, listen; this has all been one huge misunderstanding—“ Yzma starts, but she’s quickly interrupted by Kuzco lifting a hand. “Ah ah ah! That’s EMPEROR Kuzco to you. Now that I’m large and in charge again.”
Another scowl, and an irritated flick of her tail. “My apologies, Emperor Kuzco. As I was saying—“
“Yeah, yeah. I heard you. A ‘misunderstanding’.” He repeats, air quotes emphasizing the comment. “But you see, the funny thing is? I heard you back in that Jungle, Yzma. Telling Kronk all about tracking that llama down and killing him. It’s a little hard to misinterpret that, wouldn’t you say?”
For a moment there’s no reaction, Yzma’s furry little face distorted in shock at being caught red pawed, and Kuzco revels in his amusement at catching her off guard. Later, when he’s alone and he has time to reflect on the fact that Yzma, the closest thing to a parent he’s ever had, tried to kill him he’ll have a proper breakdown—but for now? He’s satisfied with putting on a mask and pretending all is right with the world.
“Please Kuzco, you must understand; I was merely trying to do what I thought was best for the Empire! That’s my only concern here.” She pleads, adopting as sweet a tone as she can muster. “If you just give me another chance- ”
“Give YOU another chance? Oh, you’re kidding right? How stupid do you think I am?” He pauses to lean in even closer, all traces of amusement wiped from his expression. “I know you better than that, Yzma. There’s not, and there never WILL be a ‘second chance’ for you.”
Yzma has the decency to look chagrined, and Kuzco stands and brushes his borrowed poncho off, giving her once final glance before turning his back on the pair; literally. “Your Highness? Rudy the janitor is here to see you.”
“Great—tell him to hang on a sec, I’m gonna need about five baths before I can put my robes back on and talk to anyone.” He turns to leave, waving over his shoulder in Yzma and Kronk’s direction as he does do. “As for Yzma? I’m done with her. You can take her away.”
Lifelong trauma, and a laundry list of making up for his past transgressions aside, and Kuzco is more than ready to get on with his life.
But first?
That much needed bath.