Chapter Sixteen
Hunter fiddled with his collar as he landed in front of the Parks' apartment building as the daylight was just barely touched with orange, to be early enough to miss the dinner rush. Lil Rascal strunk back down to his normal shape and perched on his shoulder, twittering something about being an "actual wingman." Hunter rolled his eyes and hid his smile at the bad joke.
As he walked up, Hunter reflected on the day that had passed.
Amity had insisted on challenging them both to spend as little time around each other as possible during the school day, reasoning that the semi-separation would make their first date all the more special. They had both accepted the second challenge and done … fairly well. Even if Hunter himself had felt like he was slowly dying. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd glanced over at her, just to reassure himself that she was still there and, you know, real. That he hadn't just dreamt her up.
He also couldn't count the number of times she had caught him looking, or that he had caught her.
The equally easiest and hardest time of the day had been Lady Feronia's final seminar, this one on avoiding over reliance on one's magic. Her presence and the lingering thought of her offer to Willow was great for occupying his thoughts, especially when she would glance at him every so often with a small smirk that all but screamed, I know who you are, boy. But her even more frequent and subtle appraising glances at Willow always brought her back to the forefront of his mind in the most vicious way possible.
He'd almost literally fled the auditorium when the presentation was over.
As per the challenge, they had left Hexside as soon as they could to prepare for the date. For the first time in his life, he was thankful for the etiquette lessons he'd received growing up in the castle that allowed him to dress himself in his semi-formal attire with minimal creases or wrinkles.
Not for the first time, he wondered what Willow would be wearing ...
Before he knew it, he was at the Parks' front door and knocking in sheer muscle memory. Nerves that had been slowly building throughout the day suddenly coalesced into an assault on his courage. What if this was a mistake? Willow would understand if he was sick, right? And he felt sick, like he was gonna throw up. No, wait, that was just the nerves. Why was he so nervous again?
Oh, right. Willow's amazing and he didn't want to mess it up.
As he scratched under the leather cuff bracelet that hid his coven brand, Hunter took some deep breaths that barely kept him from bolting. He was about a second away from hyperventilating before Lil Rascal nuzzled the corner of his jaw in a movement that settled his fear from a roaring bonfire to a pile of coals. He sighed with relief and scratched at Rascal's crest.
And then the door opened.
Eun glanced up with hidden glee as the door knock resounded through the apartment. He stood from his recliner and marked his book before moving to open it. He swung the door open to reveal young Hunter and his cardinal palisman that Willow had called "Lil Rascal."
"Hunter," Eun greeted warmly. "Come in, come in. Willow's just finishing up, I think." He glanced at the cardinal as he waved Hunter in. "And Lil Rascal, too, of course."
"Thank you, sir," Hunter said with a bow. Rascal tweeted in greeting and nestled deeper into Hunter's shoulder.
"Sir," Eun chuckled. "It really is refreshing to find a young man with such manners." He whistled and the elders' staff flew toward him. Eun caught it and unscrewed Needa, letting the she-bear awaken and examine Hunter and then Lil Rascal. She faintly growled at the witchling, but huffed and nodded at the cardinal.
"How are you so good with palismen?" Hunter asked. Lil Rascal twittered and Hunter's face pinked. "Okay, fine. That's fair."
"Gilbert, dear," Eun called, "Hunter's here. How's it coming?"
"Just a little bit longer," Gilbert called back.
Hunter waited for Willow to call a greeting, but it never came and he wilted a little bit. Eun patted his shoulder with a smile. "Don't worry. If I know Gilbert, and I do, then he advised her to stay quiet. Something about anticipation building suspense." He barked a quick laugh. "He had five older sisters, so I think he picked it up from them." He gestured at the living room couch and settled on it as Hunter did. "So, young man, what are your intentions with my little girl?"
Hunter blinked. "Wow, cliche much?"
"I've always wanted to say it," Eun said with a chuckle.
"We're going out to dinner at a place Willow mentioned. I don't, uh … I don't get out much and I trust her judgement. Then we're going to watch the sunset over the Boiling Sea."
"How romantic," Eun said, fingers tented under his chin. He drummed his fingers a little and then tilted his head forward to look over his spectacles. "To be clear, we would like Willow home soon after sundown." He placed his middle finger on the bridge of his glasses and pushed them back up, the light flashing on the lenses. "Or there will be … consequences."
Hunter was a magical prodigy and head of the Boiling Isles' law enforcement. The nephew and right hand of the Emperor himself. A teenager who had bested dangerous wild witches twice and even thrice his age in straight fights.
And he paled with irrational fear at the subtle threat of a father. "Yes sir," he squeaked.
"Wonderful," Eun said, the menace from before melting away into that previous warmth. "I'm sure Willow will be fine in your capable hands."
'Yeah, I'm sure you're sure,' Hunter silently groused.
Gilbert took that moment to pad into the living room, and Hunter stood up in both respect to his other host and hoping to catch a glimpse of Willow. Gilbert gave Hunter a once over and took in his clothes. He was wearing a well-fitted, dark button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, under a royal-purple waistcoat and dark trousers. His boots were freshly polished and his hair slicked back except for that single forelock that hung down between his eyes, and he wore a leather cuff bracelet on his right wrist.
"You clean up rather well, Hunter," Gilbert coceded before moving aside. And Hunter's heart stopped for a solid three seconds.
Willow stood before him with her hands clasped at her waist and her green eyes wide with hope. She was clad in a dress of royal purple that perfectly matched his vest, the bodice fitted to hug her upper body with a sweetheart neckline. It had adorable cap sleeves and the pleated skirt reached to her knees to show her muscular calves. A dark headband to hold back her tresses and a pair of dark, short heels completed the look and she appeared to be wearing faint blush and the barest hint of lipstick. Clover rode on her shoulder in perfect mirror to Lil Rascal, the bee's eyes crinkled with joy.
"Whoah …" Hunter breathed. "You look … amazing," Hunter whispered.
"Thank you, Hunter," Willow said quietly, a real blush overtaking the makeup. "You look very handsome, yourself." She took a few steps closer and breathed in. "Cologne?" she asked.
"Thought it couldn't hurt," he explained with a faint grin. Lil Rascal twittered in greeting and Willow waggled her fingers at him.
"Ready to go?" she asked, lifting on her toes for a second in excitement.
"Be kind of a waste if we didn't, right?" Hunter asked wryly, gesturing at their clothes. Willow giggled behind her hand and turned to kiss both of her dads on the cheek.
"I'll be back soon," she promised. Hunter held out his arm for Willow to take and Lil Rascal flitted to his other upturned hand. Willow looked back and waved as Hunter closed the door with a nod to the elder Parks.
"I like that boy," Eun said.
"I just hope he treats her well," Gilbert said.
"He will," Eun said knowingly. "There will be bumps in the path, they're only witchlings after all. But they'll make it."
The flight to the outskirts of Bonesborough's market district was smooth on Lil Rascal, and Willow savored Hunter holding her close as they flew. Feeling his strong arms around her, soaking in his warmth, smelling that smoky cologne … it was like a taste of paradise.
And she strongly, and rightly, suspected that Hunter felt the same exact way. That thought made her feel warm inside.
"Down there," she said, pointing to a three story brick building. Hunter nodded into her hair and silently directed Rascal down. The cardinal-staff swept up as he reached the ground and retracted into his true form, letting his passengers drop safely to the cobbled street side.
"A law firm?" Hunter asked in confusion, reading the sign at the front of the building.
"Nope," Willow chirped, wrapping one of his arms in hers and guiding him to the alley beside the building. There was an entrance to the building's basement marked by warm torches and a simple carved wooden sign that read "Sherry & Jim's" in cursive and blocky lettering respectively. Willow led Hunter down the staircase and through the door, a bell jingling cheerfully at their entry. Hunter's eyes widened at the sight of the restaurant Willow had pointedly refused to describe to him.
The rectangular room was cozily small and the walls were polished brick, typical of a basement but cleaner than he would have expected. The ceiling was wood panelling marked with smoke stains from the numerous sconces full of candles that littered the walls and the wooden pillars supporting said ceiling to provide warm and inviting light, the supports carved with images from classical Boiling Isles story tales. The back wall was somehow covered in emerald ivy despite the lack of sunlight. A long, curved bar sat at the back of the main room with twelve stools, and twelve wooden tables with varying numbers of chairs were loosely scattered around. It smelled like fresh bread, hearty food, and woodsmoke, and was almost empty of patrons.
Behind the bar was a heavyset demon with dark pink skin, large round ears, a crooked nose, and a fringe of iron-grey hair around his smooth scalp that complemented the thick, dark moustache and beard that hid his mouth. He was dressed in a simple white shirt and dark slacks with an open black vest as he worked at a genuine wood-burning stove behind the bar. He glanced up at the sound of the bell and his gold eyes glittered as he nodded at Willow, who waved back with a "Hi, Mr. Jim."
"Welcome to Sherry & Jim's," said a woman who had been polishing drink glasses at the other side of the bar. "Or should I say 'welcome back'?" she quipped. The woman was a witch, slim and olive-skinned with dark hair streaked with silver and styled in ringlets kept swept backward with a large dark red bandana, and her silvery eyes glittered with mischief. She was clad in clothes identical to the demon's, but sized and shaped to fit a feminine build. "How're you doing tonight, Ms. Park?"
"Wonderful, Mrs. Sherry," Willow said with a faint curtsey. She drew Hunter forward with a soft tug on his arm. "This is Hunter Strong."
"Finally found someone smart enough to stay, eh?" Sherry asked, moving around the bar to cross the small room and take up some menus from beside the door. "Just the two, then?"
Willow nodded and led Hunter to follow as Sherry placed them at a small two-person table in the back of the restaurant and close to the bar. Clover led Lil Rascal to a long shelf set into the bricks of the wall with fresh straw for palismen to relax upon. "Junior apple blood?" Sherry asked knowingly, using a term for the non-alcoholic type. Willow nodded with a smile. "Audumbla roast?" she added with a quirk of her head. Willow's smile widened. "Be right out, sugar." She nodded to Hunter and was gone in a flash.
"Thorns," Hunter groaned. "She took my next try."
Willow laughed and patted his hand on the table before weaving their fingers. "It would have been weird anyway," she said with a smile, eyes glittering like jewels.
"You eat here a lot?" Hunter asked.
Willow shrugged. "A few times a month. It's inexpensive and really good. And Mr. Jim and Mrs. Sherry have always been nice to me." Hunter looked pensive at that, his ears lowering a little bit. Willow blinked and squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Are you okay?"
That seemed to snap Hunter out of whatever that had been. "Yeah, I'm good." He smiled a bit and squeezed back. "Better than good; I'm great."
The conversation flowed freely from there, simple and without expectations. It was as if they were talking at the greenhouse or the Hexside cafeteria, just cozier and quieter. They talked about school and their friends and their hometowns — apparently Hunter was originally from a small village in the far reaches of the Left Arm before his uncle took him in — and anything else that came up. Mrs. Sherry brought them glasses of apple blood and water at some point, but the teens barely noticed. And they had never let their joined hands go.
The restaurant began to slowly fill up with other patrons, and soon enough their food arrived: two undecorated ceramic bowls full of steaming meat, broth, foe-tatoes, and scarrots and a small plate of homemade rolls. Willow said a quick prayer of thanks to the Titan and watched carefully as Hunter stirred his food before he ate it. She'd noticed he could never dive right in and wondered what had made him so cautious about eating. He looked up and noticed her watching him intently with a small smile of anticipation.
"It can't be that good," Hunter said dryly. Only to yelp when a wooden spoon struck the crown of his head.
"Bold talk from a witchling who's never tasted it," Mrs. Sherry said before replacing their empty glasses with fresh ones. "Go on." She crossed her arms. "Give it a try."
Hunter eyed her warily before taking up his fork and spearing some of the meat, which promptly fell apart. He traded the fork for a spoon and tried again with more success. He blew on it and ate, chewing thoughtfully. "I mean, it's good, but-" Hunter trailed off and his eyes widened, and Willow covered her mouth with glee as Mrs. Sherry smirked haughtily. Hunter was then digging into his food like a starving man, and Willow did the same. All too soon, their bowls were empty and the rolls were gone.
"That was the best food I've had in …" Hunter trailed off in thought and then seemed to wilt just a little bit again before he shook it off. "In a really long time." Willow tilted her head in thought before brushing it off and taking up the conversation again.
As time continued to pass, Willow even felt comfortable enough to talk about her childhood. She spoke of her dads, the misadventures she'd gotten into on camping trips or with dangerous plants, and even her childhood spider-cow Gabby. But as the time drifted by, Willow noticed that Hunter rarely offered insight into his own background. Not just tonight, but in the three weeks she'd known him. She knew who he was, he was very opinionated when he got rolling. But she knew little of who he had been in the past, what had made him the person he was now. The boy she was slowly losing her heart to.
"Hunter?" she asked. He lifted his eyebrows at the change in her tone, his body tensing a little bit and eyes widening in a way that honestly worried her.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"I was about to ask the same thing," she said gently. She reached over and took his other hand, rubbing her thumb over the back in a way she hoped was soothing. "Hunter, are you … comfortable around me?"
He blinked in surprise and squeezed her hands tighter. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"
Looking into those pools of magenta, Willow could tell he was being honest. "It's just that you never talk about yourself. Your parents, your childhood, even your uncle. Did I do something wrong?"
Hunter's tension ratcheted up at that and Willow could feel his trembling even through their touching hands. He screwed his eyes shut and his grip became so tight it almost hurt before he gave a shuddering breath and let go, but kept his hands close to hers. "Willow … It's not that I don't trust you or feel comfortable around you." His fingertips lightly touched hers in the barest echo of what they'd had before. "But it's … really painful to think about, much less talk about." He was silent for a few moments before he opened his eyes and looked into hers. "I'll … I'll talk about it when I can. I promise. Just please … be patient with me."
Willow felt her eyes dampen and wrapped his fingers in her own. "Of course, Hunter. Take all the time you need."
Hunter smiled at her words and the feelings behind them. "My uncle is, um … a strange man. He's a recluse, never leaves his house. He doesn't even like me talking about him in public." He trailed off and looked into Willow's eyes … and he saw pride in them.
They kept talking for another hour or so before Hunter checked a clock behind the bar and stood up. "Oh Titan, we need to go if we're gonna catch the sunset." He pulled Willow's chair out for her and earned a smile in thanks before pulling out a wad of snails and leaving them on the table.
"I've got it," Willow said, bringing a clutch from a hidden pocket in her dress.
"No, you don't," Hunter said, gently but firmly.
"Between you and Amity, I'm not going to pay for anything on this date, am I?" Willow commented.
"Nope," he said shortly with a grin.
Willow rolled her eyes and decided to accept the kindness. "But I'll get the next one," she warned, leveling an accusing finger at him.
"Deal," he said, nodding to Jim as they left. Willow waved at Mrs. Sherry, who waved back while serving another table. Clover and Lil Rascal caught up as they opened the door, perching on their partners' shoulders.
The air outside was cooler than the candlelit restaurant, and Willow shivered a little when they reached the street level. Hunter winced and regretted not bringing some kind of jacket. An idea crossed his mind and he shrugged, then wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Better?" he asked quietly.
"Getting there," Willow whispered, burrowing into his embrace. She smiled as an idea came to mind. "You remember how to get to the cliffside?" she asked.
"Mm-hmm," he confirmed lazily, almost drowsily.
Willow turned her head to look at Clover and winked. Clover nodded and expanded into her staff form for Willow to take. "Then race you there!" she shouted, mounting her staff side-saddle and flying away.
Hunter stood there stunned before he grinned with competitive glee. "Oh, it's on," he snapped, Lil Rascal expanding and sweeping him off to catch up. After he'd risen past the buildings' height, he saw Willow and teleported as close as he could. Willow looked over with a knowing smile and blew him a kiss before putting on more speed.
And so the race was on.
Both witchlings laughed and whooped with glee as they sped past each other again and again toward the Titan's head and the setting sun. After what had to have been at least twenty minutes, the witchlings descended toward the same cliff neck-and-neck. It was a contest of nerves, now. And in the end, Hunter's experience won out over Willow's. She pulled up sooner and slowed to a stop while Hunter skated along the ground and out over the sea with a shout of exultation before looping back and landing.
Both witchlings were breathing hard as they settled on the cliff and their palismen returned to their true shapes. Hunter dashed the sweat from his brow with a wide grin as Willow brushed her chest with her fingertips, her cheeks red with excitement and effort.
"And the winner is: Hunter Strong!" Willow announced, gesturing at him with both hands as if presenting him to an invisible crowd. Hunter bowed elegantly in reply, laughing all the while. "And now for his grand prize," Willow added, striding up and planting a searing kiss to his cheek. Hunter gasped at the pleasant cool of Willow's lips on his cheek and was swept up by the adrenaline to literally sweep Willow into his arms and kiss her back full on the mouth. Willow reacted on instinct and drew him closer to deepen the kiss. They came up for air soon enough, both panting again.
Willow giggled and cast a spell circle that summoned a picnic basket, which she opened to pull out a large blanket. Hunter took one end and they spread it out next to the cliff as the sun touched the line of the horizon. They sat together and cuddled for the first time in a week, since their confession. Hunter curled his arm around Willow's waist and drew her closer, and she settled the side of her head on his shoulder. Hunter's free hand twined with Willow's and she placed her other hand on his.
The sun began to set in earnest and the light played upon the waters of the Boiling Sea and the sparse clouds with a litany of warm colors, the darkening sky allowing the stars to peek out one by one.
"It's beautiful," Willow whispered.
"Not as beautiful as the sight I see," Hunter said, looking down at her. Willow looked up with a faint grin, which faded at the utter sincerity in his gaze. Her lips parted in surprise at the words, and the familiar tug of attraction came at her. But this was no subtle draw … it was a surge of desire and affection.
Willow let go of their clasped hands and took his jaw in her grip to pull him down to her lips. She moaned at the contact and Hunter drew her even closer, both breathing harder. Willow kissed him as hard as she could, determined to pour out her care for this boy. The love she felt for him. True, a part of her thought, it was young love, puppy love. Not true love that had been tested and tried, that could level mountains and part oceans. Not yet. But it was still love, nonetheless.
Willow acted without thinking, prodding her tongue into Hunter's lips. She gasped and pulled back, her face burning with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she gasped and looked away, "I don't know where that came from. I-" She halted her words at the feeling on Hunter's fingers on her chin, and she followed their gentle pressure to find Hunter smirking at her.
"What happened to taking it slow?" he asked, his tone cocky.
Willow huffed and crossed her arms as she turned her head away with as much dignity as she could muster. Dignity that fell apart as she felt Hunter remove her headband and kiss her hair where it had once sat. He curled his arm around her again and they mutually watched the rest of the sunset as the great red circle sank into the sea. As the last of it disappeared, leaving only a red glow shining into the sky, Willow sighed with contentment.
Hunter kissed her temple. "Ready to head home?" he asked.
"Did my papa threaten you to have me home so soon?" she asked wryly.
"Yes, he did," Hunter chuckled.
Willow groaned as she stood up, separated from Hunter's warmth. "Well. I can't have him make you disappear, now can I?" she teased, adjusting her glasses and giving him a hand up. "Who would I kiss into a stupor, then?"
"Who would you-?" And then Willow was upon him again, both hands on the back of his neck to keep him there. She pulled away and giggled as she tried to commit his stunned expression to memory. "I'm flying us this time," she said matter-of-factly and Clover buzzed over to expand into her staff as Lil Rascal settled on Hunter's shoulder.
Hunter shook himself to refocus and settled on the staff behind Willow, leaning into her as he placed his hands on her hips for balance. He squeezed his fingers with a wicked half-grin and Willow yelped at the ticklish sensation, then giggled and slapped backward at him. "Home, Clover," she said, and the staff lifted and hurtled into the sky before reorienting toward Bonesborough.
The flight was longer this time due to the more relaxed pace, but that suited the passengers just fine. They savored each others' presence all the way home, whispering into each others' ears and giggling over the most foolish things.
When they finally made it back to the Parks' apartment, neither were ready to say goodbye just yet. Hunter drew her to him and held her close before he leaned down to kiss her. Willow reciprocated, her hands on his shoulders. The heat started building again and Willow was tempted to just let it rise and burn them both. But she was smarter than that, and she had more respect for Hunter and herself than to let it happen.
Then Hunter slipped his tongue past her lips and she pulled back with a surprised squeak. She stared at him and that cocky grin that made her knees buckle. "Now we're even," he whispered in her ear. Willow felt her confidence surge and reached up to wrap his forelock around her finger and then pull his head down to look into her eyes. "Even, Hunter? Was that the reason? Or did you just want to try it yourself?"
Hunter's cheeks were burning at the confidence in Willow's bearing. And for the life of him he couldn't stop himself from smiling. "I wouldn't mind trying again," he said a bit shakily.
"Oh you should be so lucky, Strong," Willow teased back, cheeks pink.
And then the door opened, but this time all the witchlings did was straighten up and let go of each other. "Hi Dads," Willow said calmly.
"Sirs," Hunter nodded.
"Right on time, Hunter," Eun said with a smile. "Willow, sweetie, come on in. Hunter can come by if he wants tomorrow."
"He can?" Gilbert asked.
"Thanks, Papa!" Willow said before swooping up to steal one more kiss. "Good night, Hunter. I-" Willow caught herself before she said what was on her mind. "-I hope you sleep well." Another kiss on the cheek and she was gone.
"Hunter, are you in shape to get home?" Eun asked. "We have a guest room you can use."
"No, sir, I'm fine to get home," Hunter said, a bit drunkenly. He caught his staff as Lil Rascal grew into it and nodded to both men before mounting and flying away. In his love-induced haze, he missed the small owl that had been watching closely since he'd arrived earlier that evening and had followed them all over the Isles. Owlbert ruffled his feathers in contentment and flew off to report to his partner.
Mere minutes later, Hunter flew into his temporary quarters and collapsed on the bed, Lil Rascal shrinking and settling on his chest to look at him. He twittered in question and Hunter laughed quietly. "How'd I get so lucky, Rascal?" he asked. "You stick with me even though it could get you killed, and now I have the most amazing, uh-" he realized that they had never clarified what they were, "-romantic friend on the Boiling Isles." He laughed again, into his palms. "I swear, nothing could bring me down tonight."
As if in reply, the compact on his bedside, perched on avian-stylized legs and emblazoned with the Emperor's sigil, started ringing. Hunter paled and waved Lil Rascal away before donning his mask and answering. "Yes, Kikimora. What is it?"
"Emperor Belos has ordered a report in the throne room at dawn, Golden Guard," she said with poisonous sweetness. "Don't be late. Oh, and do try to get some sleep." The screen went black and Hunter reeled backward in sudden panic. He tore off his mask and started thinking furiously.
His uncle wanted to see him? In person?
The date has arrived! I hope it was worth it!
*Lil Rascal's comment about how he's so good with palismen was something like, "Because I don't kidnap them."
*I had a little advisement from friends on discord on details of Hunter and Willow's date-wear. You know who you are!
*The restaurant was inspired by MacAnally's Pub from the Dresden Files, with influences from several homey restaurants I know and love.
*In the Boiling Isles, fairies are typical, and so I renamed their child stories as "story tales".
*Jim, the demon bartender, is the same demon species as Amber from the BATTs in 'Eda's Requiem". I just adore her design.
*The spider-cow is based on one of Willow's memories from "Understanding Willow." the name came from me and my brother's own childhood cow.
*I had to rewatch episode two to figure out which way the sun sets on the Boiling Isles. I think it's "north" toward the Titan's head.
I hope this lived up to expectations! Leave a review of your thoughts. I adore them all!