Disclaimer: I don't own The Owl House!
Title: Bby's First Nightmare
Summary: Eda starts to realize that she may, in fact, be a mom. Maybe. Possibly. The chocolate milk and the bedtime stories might factor into that a little.
...
The Owl House is, by and large, supposed to be Eda's secret fortress. A hideaway from the stresses of modern life. An alcove from the Emperor's Coven and their icy grip. A cool secret lair of mysterious intent. Eda's always loved having secret passages and hideaways- did it back home, did it in Hexside, did it in the middle of the woods. Made her feel special. Powerful. A witch with a mission.
It's also, unfortunately, a two-story house attached to a never-ending owl head, and Hooty seemed to just adore stretching halfway across the damn Isles just to meet up with her as she walked back from the market. "Eeeeeedddaaaaaaaa," he wailed, coiling around her shoulders. "I've had it, hoot hoot!"
"What'd he do this time?" she asked.
"He chewed on the wall! On my wall!" Hooty mimicked flopping down on her. "You're the only one allowed to nourish yourself on my hard house flesh, Eda!"
"I'm so lucky," Eda deadpanned. "I'll have to get him somethin' to chew on when I go out tomorrow."
Hooty rolled to look at her shrewdly. "Are we gonna keep the bone boy, Eda?"
"What? I dunno. Maybe." Eda shrugged the bag to her other shoulder self-consciously. "It's not like we don't have the money to take care of him."
"You like him, don't you, Eda?"
"I keep tellin' you, I brought him home thinking he was a dog!" Eda set her hand on the door handle with determination. "I could kick him out anytime."
"Suuuuuurrreeeee."
"I could!" she said, and flung the door open.
King was barely poking his nose out of a pile of blankets on the couch. Wreckage was all over the place- toys, pillows, chunks of the wall, all in neat but oddly spaced piles. Bits of a couch cushion were ripped out and scattered. Words were a bit hard for the demon yet, but he could do a select few phrases. One of them was her name, which he squawked with sheer terror. "EDA!"
Hooty waggled his eyebrows pointedly at her. Eda stuck her tongue out and shoved the bag around his neck. "Put this away, wouldja?" She crouched down as King fell off the couch and waddled over to her. "Hey, hey, it's alright buddy. Mama just needed some night juice."
King scrambled into her arms and curled up tight, quivering. Confused and a bit uncertain with the affection, Eda slowly straightened. She waited for him to let go, to pull back, to show interest in her bags like always. It didn't happen. She tsked under her breath. "What happened?"
King covered his big eyes with his claws and shook his head.
"He had a bad dream," Hooty supplied, though Eda couldn't be certain if he was translating or had known before she got inside, setting the bag down on the counter with casual disregard. "Want me to press him comfortably against my beating heart to soothe him?"
"I think I've got it covered." She shifted King so they were eye-to-eye. "Bad dream, eh? I know what those are like. How's about I tuck you into my big ol' nest and read you a story, huh?"
King's eyes were wet with unshed tears as he nodded vigorously. Eda tutted and grabbed the blanket off the couch, throwing it across her shoulder. She took the stairs one at a time, ignoring the age-old instinct to see how many she could go up at once. Her record was still five, and it wasn't like Eda was getting younger. She'd just have to accept it.
Normal witches were always a bit put off by Eda's nest. Eda had been a bit weirded out herself, once. But it's hers, and it's surprisingly comfy from years of constant work. She dropped the blanket down and set King on top of it for extra measure, digging out an ancient pillow from a corner of her closet for his head.
"Here, you little scamp. Lemme just drink this and then-" Eda snatched up her end table elixir and went to pop the cork off, only to see King perk up and make grabby-claws. She hesitated, swishing the orange liquid around. "Oh. Um. You can't have any, buddy. It's... juice! Boring, gross adult juice. Tastes like taxes and, uh, I dunno... pilates?"
King let out a frustrated squeak and grabby-claw-ed harder.
"Okay, okay! I'll get you something to drink, alright? Gimme a sec."
The demon didn't seem overly pleased with her leaving, but Eda took slight disappointment over him trying to drink an elixir. She didn't know what it would do to him, if anything, but it wasn't worth the risk. Also, they tasted terrible.
(Four stairs this time. Dangit.)
Eda turned the corner into the kitchenette to find Hooty plunging his head into her bags. She crossed her arms and cocked a hip. "Hooty, we've talked about this."
"You said I shouldn't snoop in your mail," he corrected happily. Hooty let out a gasp and pulled out a familiar book engraved with the visage of a pink mouse and his thread. "Eda, is this what I hoot it is?"
Eda rummaged around her cupboards for a decent glass, only to come up with a suspiciously tiny one with Meh, It's Worth a Shot written on it. "What? No house is complete without a copy of Otabin in it."
"You bought it for the bone boy, didn't you?"
"I'm appalled you think that of me," Eda said, pouring the tiniest cup of chocolate milk anyone had ever seen. "And he has a name, you know."
"Eda-lyn Clawthorne, do re mi," Hooty chanted to the tune of sitting in a tree. "Turning allll mother-ly!"
Eda grabbed his beak and glared at him until he settled, giggling manically at the look on her face. "Do that again and I'll go back to the store and buy some feather removal cream in bulk."
"'M not ashamed of the natural form!" he challenged, but wriggled backwards towards the door willingly. "Good night, Eda! Have fun with your new son!"
Huffing, she went back upstairs with pointedly heavy steps, making certain the house felt every inch of her high heel. Eda was scowling as she returned to the bedroom. "Alright, alright, I got your-" She stopped. King had managed to make a pile in the bottom of the nest, this time of bones, and had pulled the blanket out from under himself to stretch it out. A second pillow joined his. "Is that for me?"
"Weh!" he said, holding his hands out for the milk. Eda couldn't help but find it adorable that it fit perfectly in his claws.
She slunk in beside him and threw the blanket across her legs. The pillow settled in the small of her back, propping her against the lip. King wiggled his hips over so they were pressed side-by-side. She opened the cover of the book. "Alright, this is a ditty about a little fella named Otabin. He's kind of like you- a little baby who likes stabby things."
"King?" he asked.
Eda shook her head and booped his nose. "Nope. We only got one of those. That's you, by the way."
King snickered and kicked his feet.
It didn't take long for the demon to fall asleep. Otabin tended to have that affect on most kids. But Eda kept reading regardless, remembering when she used to jerk awake when her mother stopped reading before she'd fully fallen into REM. She gently took the glass away from him, chugged her elixir with her usual displeasure, and slid down beside him.
King snuffled and managed to crawl even closer, his little paws sinking into her hair like it was a mattress. She rubbed his back as he mumbled about friends under his breath- another reason she'd gotten the book. King seemed to be like a sponge- the more he heard, the more he could say, and she figured children's books were a good way to get him started. Worked for witchlings, anyway.
"Eeeeddaaaa," he grumbled into her neck. King's mind seemed to take a moment to ruminate on the word, trying to find adjacent synonyms. Finally, he said; "Mama."
Eda tensed, staring helplessly up at the ceiling. The taste of elixir stuck to the back of her throat like glue as she pondered the world she found herself falling asleep to. A world with a little demon who drank her chocolate milk and demanded story time. A world where she started stocking up on chocolate milk and buying childhood tales to share with him. But even as the day her curse took hold ticked closer by the second; she let him stay that way, blissfully ignorant to how dangerous she really was. And she kept on stroking his back with her thumb.
"Fuck," she sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I hate it when Hooty's right."
Author's Note: I have. So many feelings about baby King and Eda being an awkward but loving maternal figure.
And to be clear, King isn't calling her mama because he thinks she's his mom, per se (tho she is)- but bc Eda called herself that. It's a natural connection made by a baby. Eda just reads too deeply into babble lol.
-Mandaree1