Chapter Text
There was something about the rain, Luz thought. Not her rain – she’d always loved the rain in the human world, cold and comforting. But the rain in the witches’ world, with its ability to burn everything it touched, made her feel… on edge.
Something bad always happened in the rain.
Example one: the first time she’d ever experienced the rain, she’d run head-first into the death trap – and then had somehow learnt about Eda’s curse, been running from the Snaggleback, and almost lost King (the last one wasn’t actually that major, but in the moment, it had been terrifying.) Example two: the night before Willow lost her memories, and her and Amity had to do that whole jump-into-her-head-and-try-not-to-die thing, it had rained. Heavily. And example number three: every time she had to go back to the human world, it rained (which was obviously a bad sign.)
Conclusion? The rain brought bad happenings.
She’d been in-between the human world and the real world for two years now; spending Monday to Friday with Eda at Hexside, and visiting her Mom over the weekends. Mom had even come to visit Eda, once – and although they’d got along a little too well, she’d stated that she felt much safer in the human world, where there wasn’t stuff like killer spells, and killer demons, and killer… rain. Understandable.
“I don’t like the rain,” she’d told Eda, once last year, as Eda was trying to teach Luz how to put up a forcefield.
“Why not?” Eda asked casually, successfully putting a bubble around the house. Luz tried – but her own magic only formed a tiny orange field around her hand. It was definitely the rain’s fault.
“I don’t know,” Luz said, ducking into the Owl House. “It just… gives me a bad feeling.”
On that day, it was raining. In her head, Luz had been calling it acid-rain (which was weird, because to witches, this was normal rain – they’d never had the nice, human stuff.) She was lying on her bed, on her back, both enjoying the familiar pitter-patter, and trying to ignore it. King had been tucked into her side, curled up into a prawn-like ball.
Oh, yeah. Reason number 4 why she hated rain: you can’t do anything when it’s raining.
Luz let out a loud sigh to the high ceiling of her bedroom, half expecting the breath to visualize itself as dragon’s air, curling up until it dissipated above her. For one, she was glad that Hooty didn’t really come and bother her in the rain, lest he risk exiting the forcefield and burning himself; but another part of her desperately wished for company. There was only so much one person could do to distract themselves – and Luz was all glyph’ed out. And, even if she wanted to practice her magic, the fifty-or-so magical balls of light above her were the only spell safe enough to do indoors.
“I’m bored,” she said, to herself, and King, and the open air. As if in response, King nestled himself further into her side, chasing the warmth. She could always go and hassle Eda, she supposed – but Eda was busy enough, what with the depleted magic after putting up so large a forcefield, and the cooking lessons she’d recently taken up. Camilia had sent Luz back to Eda one Monday morning with a series of human cooking books, for Spanish food – somehow believing that the problems with Eda’s cooking merely lay in the fact that Eda was white, rather than the fact that she burnt everything she touched. But Eda had returned the gift with witch-cookbooks of her own, and both were valiantly trying to make out-of-the-box recipes for Luz.
They hadn’t outright said it, but Luz expected they were in some sort of competition. Luz loved her mama’s cooking, but Eda was trying her best (and, y’know, teaching Luz magic) so she kept up the façade that they were both winning.
So… what to do?
She couldn’t text her friends – she’d never gotten a Scroll-phone that everybody seemed to use here, because it required a certain magic she just didn’t have. And she didn’t have any human-friends, so her human phone was just for her mom.
[I’m bored], she texted her mom. And then, [:(.]
[Read a book, mija!] came her mom’s, albeit predictable, response. [I miss you.]
[Miss you too.] Luz sent, before throwing her phone half-heartedly across the room and groaning dramatically. She didn’t want to read a book; she wanted the rain to end, so she could go see her friends, and go on an adventure, or something.
Yeah, Luz thought to herself, absentmindedly stroking under King’s shell. She wanted an adventure. Full of magic, and quests, and danger, and her friends, and-
And a knock on the door.
That wasn’t usually how magic quests began.
Luz sat up, and the balls of light dissipated at her sudden loss of concentration. King yowled at the loss of heat, but curled further in on himself. Had she imagined the knock?
Another knock. But it couldn’t be – and in all this rain, too. Luz hated the acid-rain, because it always brought bad things. Who would be stupid enough to walk all the way out to the Owl House, of all places, in such horrible weather?
Luz stood, brushing imaginary lint from her outfit. Well, she supposed it was a little unconventional, as far as adventure-starts went – but she had been hoping.
“Eda!” Luz yelled as she barreled down the stairs, almost running into the kitchen. There weren’t even any windows – they couldn’t check who the visitor was beforehand. “Was that a knock on the door?”
Eda looked slightly frazzled – hand-deep in some sort of pot of ingredients, looking confused at either Luz’s question, or merely her presence. “I don’t know, was it?” She asked. “Maybe it was just thunder.”
There was a third knock, and Luz raised her eyebrows at Eda, mouth curling upwards. “Should I answer?” Luz asked. “Do you think it’ll be a murderer?”
“We don’t need to worry about murderers,” Eda chuckled. “And we know Snaggleback’s aren’t that scary. I’d open it, but…” she lifted her hands, covered in a green-gray goop.
Luz nodded, steeling herself. She was sixteen, and mature, and a well-versed witch, by this point. She could open a front door. Maybe this was the adventure – there’d be a mysterious witch at the door, offering her fame and glory for a dangerous quest. Or it could be a pixie, who’d heard about the most powerful witch in all the land, and her apprentice, and had come to beg for their help to save a village.
She opened the door. Thunder and lightning split the sky. And there stood… Amity.
The rain was burning everything around her, but Luz’s eyes were caught on Amity – cheeks far more flushed than Luz had ever seen them, panting softly and barely holding up her own umbrella-like forcefield to prevent herself from getting burnt. The acid rain bit at her feet, which were turned in on each other, and added to the feeling of her hunched-over shoulders – that Amity looked small, and flustered, and vulnerable.
“I’m sorry,” Amity began, a tremor on her lips that Luz wanted to, but couldn't, discount to the cold. “I didn’t know where else to go. Can I stay?”
At a closer glance, Amity was shivering in her school uniform – there was no bag on her back, which was weird, because Amity always came prepared. “Of course,” Luz said, voice scratchy from the shock piled upon how she hadn’t spoken for a couple hours. “Are you cold? Want a blanket, or something?”
Luz moved out of the doorway, gesturing for Amity to come in – but it was impossible not to notice how Amity eyed the doorway as if it were a danger to her, before entering.
“What was it?” Eda called from the kitchen. “A delivery?”
“It was Amity,” Luz called back, eyes not leaving her green-haired friend. “Um – one second.”
Luz left Amity in the room for a moment, poking her head into the kitchen.
“Do we have enough food for one more tonight?” She asked quietly, hoping Amity wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.
Eda was chopping some sort of meat, hands still covered in that green mush. “Amity?” She asked softly. “She walked?”
“It looks like it,” Luz said, a frown causing her face to crease slightly. “It’s raining outside, though.”
Eda pondered for a second, before grabbing a can Luz had brought from the human world, and adding it to the pot. “Set another place at the table,” Eda commanded, moving to take a glance at the cook-book. “I’ll make it work. And make her some hot stag juice, maybe?”
With a nod, Luz backed out of the room, to see Amity still standing by the now-closed door, arms crossed over her chest and eyes on the floor. “Are you cold?” Luz asked again, rushing to grab Amity a blanket off the living room couch. “Hungry, maybe? We’ll eat soon, but we have snacks.”
Amity shook her head at the mention of food, nose wrinkling slightly, but graciously accepted the blanket. It wasn’t summer anymore, and the school uniform didn’t prevent the deep chill of the evening air from seeping in. Plus, Luz was assuming Amity hadn’t been able to keep up the forcefield and have enough leftover magic energy to cast a heating spell… so she must be freezing.
“How about some hot stag beetle juice?” Luz walked into the living room, glad when Amity followed. To be honest, Luz didn’t really understand the drink – it was juice named after a bug for its unpleasant colour, and was textured a little like watery yoghurt – but, apparently, to witches with a magic pouch, it was like medicine. Very useful and very, very comforting.
There were bags under Amity’s eyes, Luz noted as they sat down. Deep, and gaunt against her pale skin. Luz had never seen Amity as anything but the perfect-student type front she put forwards; she’d broken out of it a couple times, sure – what with the library’s softness, and the grudgby competitiveness. But never like… this.
“I’ll get that, then,” Luz nodded to herself once Amity didn’t answer, concern gnawing at her stomach. “You’re sure you’re not hungry?”
Amity mouthed the word, ‘no’, but it was as if her voice had just left her – or it was too weak to be heard. Luz hurried to the kitchen, wanting to offer Amity all the comfort in the world. She hated seeing her friend like this.
Rain always brought bad things. First the curse, then the mind-swipe, and now… a broken Amity.
“You making stag juice?” Eda asked.
“Yeah,” said Luz, checking the cup’s temperature with the back of her hand. “It should help, right?”
“It’ll help.” Eda said confidently, reaching for a witch-grater (wildly different shape, but same purpose – plus the witch name was far too long to remember.) “And, hey – get King.”
King. Of course – he was feisty when awake, but a sleepy King was nothing but a walking ball of affection. Amity had to like cuddles. Everybody liked cuddles.
She picked up the mug as soon as it was hot enough, rushing back into the living room. “Here,” Luz said. Amity reached for the mug, drawing it close to her chest – as if she were using it for heat, rather than its medicinal properties. Maybe she wanted to inhale it for a while – or her hands were just cold.
King had apparently wandered downstairs since Luz had left him, and was curled up by Amity’s thigh – a picture of perfect innocence. That was good, she supposed.
Except, it left her with nothing to do.
Amity’s eyes were unfocussed – on some patch of carpet just beyond her untouched mug. She was breathing steadily (Luz could only tell because the quilted blanket was rising and falling in time with her breaths), but she still looked… empty.
Luz took a tentative seat besides Amity, making sure they weren’t touching in any way. She ached to help – but she didn’t know how. Honestly, Luz felt useless.
So she watched, as Amity focused on that patch of carpet, tentatively taking a sip of the stag juice, and hoped that her presence was enough.
“I-“ Amity began after half a cup of the juice had disappeared. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Luz asked. Amity’s voice was still little above a whisper, but at least she’d regained the strength to speak.
“For letting me in, I guess,” Amity said. Her eyes dropped to the mug, and her lower lip quivered. “I-“
She cut herself off, because her voice was unsteady – and Luz’s heart felt like it was about to shatter.
She wanted to ask what was wrong, desperately – she wanted to find out how she could help. But Luz knew she could be… a little much in the best of times, so it would be better if she stayed quiet. She needed to be whatever Amity needed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Luz asked tentatively. “Or not, if you don’t want to – we could just sit, like we’ve been doing, and stuff, I don’t mind, you-“
“Luz.” Amity’s voice was still weak, but her tone was stern enough that Luz silenced. “Can you talk?”
“Oh, sure,” Luz said. “About what?”
Amity shrugged, eyes drifting over to Luz. “Whatever you want to,” Amity said. This was the first time Luz had looked into Amity’s eyes since she’d shown up. A while ago, she was sure Amity had been about to cry – and even now, there was a deep sadness Luz couldn’t even hope to understand behind the amber. Amity looked tired, and fragile, and so un-Amity like it made Luz want to punch somebody. Whoever hurt her.
“Okay,” Luz said, clearing her throat and having to drop her eyes for some reason – the eye contact was too intense. “So, Eda’s been trying to learn to cook for a couple months now – she’s actually competing with my mom…”
* * *
Luz talked for a long time before Eda announced food was ready. At some point in her ramblings, which covered everything from her time in the human world to what she’d had for dinner the night before, King had wandered off into the kitchen, probably to offer his support. Luz had honestly expected Amity to, at some point, get tired of her voice, and tell her to stop, because the quiet was better than listening to Luz drone on about the difference between human and witch pancakes. But that time never came.
Eda always sat at the head of the table, and King at the bottom. So Luz settled into the middle, close enough to Amity that, if she wanted, she could reach out and hold her hand. She had a perfect view of Amity as she adjusted the quilt, still around her shoulders, and put the stag juice down by the side of her plate.
“Right,” Eda said, bringing the large pot of food into the room. “Humans call this stuff ‘gazpacho’, but I didn’t have some of the stuff I needed, so it might be a bit off.”
Luz took a spoonful, and wrinkled her nose slightly at the colour. Her mom’s gazpacho had always been a reddish orange, but this stuff was a deep green, almost black. “Smells good,” she said to Eda with a forced smile.
She watched as Amity served herself silently. Amity wasn’t really an extroverted person, but from what Luz had grown to know about her, she was usually very respectful – especially to adult figures. Luz could comfort her all she wanted in the living room, where it was just the two of them, but here was different.
“This doesn’t look very good, Eda!” King said with a frown (well, as much of a frown as his face could twist into.)
Eda shot him a glare, before serving herself. “Alright,” she said with a loud clearing of her throat. “Dig in, I guess.”
Amity’s eyes widened slightly, but she obeyed, dipping a spoon into the questionable substance. Luz watched as she took a little bit, nose wrinkling again. She expected Amity to put her spoon down – feign that she wasn’t hungry, or that she was feeling ill, because that was what Luz did when Eda’s cooking was horrible – but she continued eating.
Luz took a spoonful for herself, wincing at the taste. It was nothing like her mother’s recipe.
“Damn,” Eda said, sniffing suspiciously at the spoonful. “This stuff smells disgusting.”
“Amity,” Luz said softly to her friend, who was still eating. “You don’t have to eat it if it isn’t nice.”
Amity’s eyes were wide – and she looked to Eda, then back to Luz. Slowly, she put her spoon down.
“Well I think it’s great!” King was chuckling, eating straight from the bowl (his claws weren’t very cutlery-friendly.)
“You can have it, then,” said Eda, pushing her bowl away. “Now… we’ve got that thing Luz’s mom sent her with last Sunday, or we can hope that a delivery place is open, even though it’s raining. What do we think?”
“It’s a Tuesday,” Luz frowned. “Don’t you want to save it for later in the week?”
“Yeah, but it’s raining, kid,” Eda made a gesture to one of the windows, where the slightly yellowed drops were falling to the already-shriveled grass. “Okay. Give me ten minutes, I’ll use a heating spell, and we can eat some good food.”
Eda got up, taking her bowl – and the large pot of the almost-gazpacho – back into the kitchen. Luz stood, expecting to go and sit in the living room whilst they waited. Amity’s eyes were still fixated on her plate.
“Amity?” Luz asked. “You want to wait in the living room?”
“But – I haven’t finished eating,” Amity said with a confused frown. “Eda – you…”
“The food’s inedible,” Luz chuckled softly – but Amity didn’t seem to find the joke funny. “I mean, Eda’s experimenting! Some recipes just don’t go to plan – and we don’t have to eat them.”
Amity stood, eyeing her bowl one more time. She followed Luz out.
* * *
“How did you even walk here?” Luz asked the moment they sat down, Luz sinking into the couch, Amity perched on the edge, adjusting the blanket. “I mean – yeah, the forcefield works, but the Blight manor is ages away from here – especially if you walk.”
Amity shrugged, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” she said quietly.
“But-“ Luz cut herself off. She’d been sympathetic towards Amity, but now she was itching for answers, so that she could help. It wasn’t her place to know; but Amity had come here, to her, of all places. Didn’t that count towards something?
Amity was still sat on the edge of the sofa, at least a foot away from Luz. “C’mon, Amity,” Luz encouraged, sitting forwards a little. “You know you can trust me with anything, right?”
With a soft sigh, Amity nodded in Luz’s direction. Luz felt like that was all she would get out of her.
“Well,” Luz started, “guess I’ll talk again. Where was I before dinner? Oh – so then Willow bought the hat, but Gus was all like…”
* * *
They ate dinner. Some potato dish Camilia used to make in the summer, when her mom had friends around for barbecues, and such. It was nice, but filling; Luz left a third of her plate.
Amity ate every single bite.
* * *
“So…” Luz cleared her throats. “You should stay the night. I mean – you’re welcome to stay the night, but you know, the rain…”
They were up in Luz’s bedroom (Eda, for some reason, set Amity on edge – so she’d been instructing Luz on what to do from a distance.) Luz had supplies for another bed – enough blankets that, if she layered them properly, could constitute for a sleeping bag, and a large fluffy pillow that just sat, unused. When Amity had shown up, Luz was pretty sure she’d said she ‘didn’t know where else to go’ – which probably meant this was the closest place to shelter from the rain, which meant her parents couldn’t come and pick her up.
Luz had known Amity for as long as she’d been coming to the witch realm, now – a little over two years, and counting. And, as much as Luz had made friends (Willow, Gus, those kids in the detention track), Amity had always kept herself somewhat reserved. Luz had many fond memories with Amity – like Grom, or the time they won that Grudgby match – but Amity was jumpy, and cautious, and so frugal with her time that Luz barely saw her outside of the school and the library.
She was pretty sure Amity had only been to the Owl House a handful of times – and yet knew where it was perfectly. So perfectly that she was able to find it in a storm?
“Alright,” Luz said. Amity, not for the first time that evening, remained silent. “I guess I’ll just… make you a bed, then?”
She got to work, piling the blankets, trying to ignore that Amity was just sort of… watching her. The task was easy, and Luz’s shuffling filled the silence, until there was a second bed, within arm’s reach of Luz’s own. “There,” Luz said, brushing her hands off and smiling triumphantly. “Now, I can get you some more hot stag beetle juice, or just some water, and we can go to sleep, if that’s what you want.”
“Some water sounds nice,” said Amity.
“Of course!” Luz nodded enthusiastically. “And you can borrow some pajamas, too – because you don’t have a bag, and school uniform would be very uncomfortable.”
She dug those out; a comfortable matching set of dark green, not unlike Amity’s hair, and walked downstairs to grab two glasses of water.
Eda was in the living room with King, reading one of the Azura books (it had taken two years of pestering – but Eda was on book 5 when Luz walked past. “You going to bed?” She asked Luz.
“Yeah,” Luz said. “It’s early, but Amity looked tired – so we’ll just go to sleep, I think.”
“Okay,” Eda nodded, returning to her page. “If you can, find out what’s bothering Amity. Maybe we can help.”
“Yeah.”
“Night, kid.”
“Goodnight, Eda,” Luz responded.
Walking up the stairs was a slow and daunting task, with two glasses full of water – but she reached the top, pushing into her room. Amity had taken the opportunity to change, and Luz’s green trousers were slightly long on her, pooling around her feet. Huh. Luz supposed she had grown a little since she’d started coming to the witch realm, but she had always assumed everybody else was growing, too.
“Right, then,” Luz put the glasses down besides their beds. “Do you want to wash your face? Borrow a toothbrush?”
Amity nodded, and together, they walked into the bathroom, where Eda’s fifty or so different skin and hair products cluttered the counter. “Sorry for the mess,” Luz chuckled, picking up a few glass things in one hand before shoving the plastic to one side. “Eda’s very… picky. And King is too, actually – he says his fur has to be soft.”
Amity was smiling softly. In the mirror, Luz’s eyes got caught on the site; before she had to blink the weird haze away. “A brand-new toothbrush,” Luz said, handing it to Amity, “and a face wash. This is my one.”
“It’s a body wash,” Amity observed.
“So? Your face is part of your body.”
Amity let out a short breath through her nose in amusement, before turning on the tap. She pulled her hair out of her face, tying the rest of it up at the base of her neck.
Huh. Luz had never seen Amity with any other hairstyle than the half-up quiff thing she did for school every day. It looked… nice. Amity had very nice collarbones, and a slender, blemish-free neck, that having her hair up accentuated.
Amity bent down to wet her face, and Luz could only watch. A strange feeling washed over her.
What they were doing was so… natural. Like, Luz had lived with her mother – and then with Eda, and King – but she’d never shared a space, and seen somebody get ready for bed quite this way. She didn’t know what she was feeling – she’d never felt it before. It wasn’t unpleasant, though.
She needed to brush her teeth. She needed to stop thinking whatever the hell she was thinking about Amity, and go to bed.
And then they were in their respective ‘beds.’ Luz’s was really more of a sleeping bag, and Amity was lying on a cluster of blankets, but it worked. “Goodnight, Amity,” Luz said, pressing her head into the pillow.
They were both lying on their sides – facing each other. Luz wanted to close her eyes, but Amity was staring right at her. She wanted to cast a light spell, if only to try and see what Amity was thinking.
“Hey, Luz?” Amity asked softly. The rain was a hum in the background. “Thank you for letting me stay.”
Luz blinked. “Of course. Nobody deserves to be stuck in the rain.”
It might have been a trick of the light (or lack-of-it), but Luz could swear she saw Amity frown. “Yeah,” Amity’s voice dropped further. “Night, Luz.”
Amity rolled over, until all Luz could see was her back – and Luz couldn’t help but feel like she’d done something wrong. With the whole… weirdness of today, right up until just now, when Amity turned away from her. Now that she thought about it, Amity hadn’t even been in school today.
Luz closed her eyes, and swore to herself she’d get answers tomorrow.