Dawn of a New Age
The people of the Boiling Isles — the city of Bonesborough and beyond — were gathered before what had once been the site of the Emperor's Castle. Formerly a massive, cathedral-like fortress standing against the supposed threat of wild magic, it had been leveled after the battle that had broken out when the forces of Emperor Belos had been taken on by the resistance to hamper his vaunted Day of Unity.
Such an event had gone down in recent history as a battle unseen since the end of the Savage Ages, the Emperor and his coven battling against a ragtag army of wild witches and demons, led by a human, a cursed witch, and a juvenile demon. Supported, of course, by their teenage closest allies and even the Golden Guard when he had realized where his sympathies truly lay.
And how little the Emperor, his uncle, truly cared for him.
Now the pit over the Titan's heart was filled with crystalline rubble, the force of the magic of the Day of Unity transfiguring it as it shattered and crumbled. The area had been unrestricted and the people summoned forth for the coronation of their new ruler in the wake of Belos's death.
On a large pedestal built for the occasion, a familiar figure strode up and halted before his people. The people had until now known him as the Golden Guard. His friends knew him as Hunter. And many would soon know his chosen surname: Wittebane.
Dressed in white robes lined with gold, Hunter removed his mask to reveal his scarred face and confident expression. The people cheered at his reveal, whether by genuine support or simply the desire to avoid a long and costly power struggle. As the dead Emperor's right hand and only living relative, Hunter was the most logical choice.
"Please," he said, his voice clear as he raised a hand, "the real heroes are the residents of the Owl House."
He stepped aside to allow Luz Noceda, dressed in her purple cape, Eda Clawthorne holding her staff and King riding on her shoulder, Willow Park, Gus Porter, Amity Blight, and Lilith Clawthorne holding a pack containing the house demon Hooty, to step forward proudly. Far louder and more enthusiastic applause met their reveal.
"We have a long way to go," Hunter declared. "Fifty years of oppression has fractured our home and left scars that will not be easy to heal. But with fire in our eyes and hope in our hearts, we can emerge from this chrysalis even stronger than before. And issue in a new era of peace and tolerance."
Hunter knelt before the leaders of the Main Nine covens, those who still lived, anyways. The leader of the Oracle Coven placed a circlet of gold on his brow and poured oil from the caverns of the Titan's skull, the Tears of the Titan, upon his brow in anointment.
"All hail, Emperor Hunter Wittebane!"
Hunter blinked against eight year old memories, focusing on his location from atop his staff capped by his ever-loyal adoptive palisman, Lil Rascal. That day had been the first step in a long journey to renew the society of the Boiling Isles … and so much had happened since.
His first goal was to completely rebuild the coven system. While he was aware that the entire scheme had been to restrict the people of the Isles and sequester magic for the Day of Unity, it did have its strong points in organization and cooperation. He had first and foremost removed the magical restrictions of coven membership and had legalized non-membership. Membership in a coven was still encouraged, of course, but those who wished to pursue their own goals were now free to legally do so.
He had also created more responsibility for the Main Nine by having every minor coven bond in sponsorship to one of the Mains, the larger covens providing resources and protection to their smaller brethren. In return, he had not only declared all covens semi-independent and self-governing — allowing them to choose their own leaders in place of the throne micromanaging them — but also made them a "cabinet" for the throne, based on an idea from Luz the Human. The Main Nine, and by extension all covens, would act as a check against the supreme political power of the Emperor.
Hunter sighed as more memories began to flow as he lost himself in the feel of the wind in his hair. There had been resistance, of course. There always was to change. Hunter had lost track of the number of assassination attempts made upon him in his first year of ruling.
He had survived largely thanks to his first decision upon the throne: appointing Luz as the head of his new Emperor's Coven. She was his guard, his closest advisor, and oftentimes his voice. The little sister he had never known he wanted was his most steadfast and faithful ally. And the permanent hole in space-time torn between the demon and human realms in the surviving corridors of the castle meant she could still visit her mother.
Eda and Lilith — with their curses no longer inhibiting their powers — had become freelance agents called upon when extra firepower was needed against those who still supported the reign of Belos. When not, they had gone into work together in dealing potions and rare artifacts. And with Raine Whispers freed, they and Eda had finally found the stable relationship they had both clearly desired.
King had left with his father to find himself after the Day of Unity and had been gone for two years. He'd returned to the Isles taller than Eda and much bulkier, a soul of wisdom replacing the wannabe tyrant he had been before. With new understanding of his people, he had worked to reestablish his kind on the Titan and preserve their culture in any way he could. With the full support of the crown, naturally.
With a stable natural portal, Gus had realized his dream of connecting the societies of the human and demon realms. A giant hole to another realm torn into the territory of "Connecticut" had gotten the local humans' attention and Gus as well as Luz had been instrumental in assuring them that the Boiling Isles government meant no harm. It had been tense, but apparently Gus had brokered a secrecy movement to protect the portal — which both peoples who were aware of the situation were grateful for beyond words. He spent most of his time in the human realm and lived with Camila and Vee, the latter of whom he had grown surprisingly close to.
Finally, in the time since, Amity and Willow had naturally risen to the forefront of their respective covens. Amity was a leader and a shoe-in for when the current head witch retired. Willow, on the other hand, had been groomed by the elderly head of the Plant Coven and taken up leadership a mere two years ago.
As his thoughts landed on Willow, Hunter was jostled from his musings and memories by Lil Rascal falling into a steep dive — Hunter whooping with excitement — before he pulled up sharply to land Hunter on both feet. The staff retracted into Lil Rascal's true cardinal form and the palisman perched on his shoulder and nuzzled his jaw, making Hunter snort and scratch his crest.
Hunter made the rest of the short way on foot to a cozy log-and-stone cabin nestled upon one of the Titan's horns and against the rise of its skull. Hunter had built this himself as a gift for ... a very special person … and they came here as often as they could to be alone together and away from their duties.
Hunter entered quietly and Lil Rascal fluttered away to a nest built in the rafters to rest after their flight. He unlaced and removed his boots, groaning when he took them off, and removed the cloak that covered his bare upper body. He sniffed the air and smiled at the smell of baking bread and, if he wasn't mistaken, audumbla stew. His stomach growled loudly and the muffled clatter of pans halted.
"Hunter?" a feminine voice called.
"It's me," he said with a wince. He'd wanted to surprise her.
From the doorway to the cabin's small kitchen came Willow Park, dressed in a floral sundress with an apron reading "Kiss the Cook." Since their youth, she had traded in her large glasses for smaller, oval-shaped lenses and her hair was typically tied in a low bun instead of hanging loose, but otherwise she wasn't much different so much as … more of what she had been. She had grown from an adorably plump witchling into a beautiful, full-figured woman, and yet remained as modest and kind as she had ever been. Her eyes were a little more canted, but as big and magnificently green as ever.
And in their time fighting the Emperor, being close together due to Luz's shared friendship, and then working closely together as teen Emperor and apprentice to a coven head … feelings had grown between them. They had confessed to each other three years ago today, and had been married for almost a year.
As Hunter looked over his wife, Willow looked over her husband.
Though many had been blinded by the glamor of heroism and royalty after Hunter had taken the throne, he had always been a friend to the Owl House's residents. While many had tried to get close to him merely to further their own agenda, Luz & Co. had offered unconditional friendship and support. Willow herself had been a key supporter in those early years, offering wise counsel where she could and more often a peaceful ear for Hunter to air his grievances to with no fear of judgment.
As tended to happen in such close proximity, especially to teenagers, romantic feelings took root and grew. It was a slow-growing thing characterized by feelings of warmth and treasured natural intimacy, and nurtured over kind words and acts, as well as the occasional high-adrenaline situation of an assassination attempt or high-risk mission adding spice.
When the time had come that they both knew without a doubt what they wanted next, it had culminated in a mutual love confession at Luz and Amity's wedding. Luz had been openly thrilled, calling it "the best wedding present ever" for two of her closest friends to find true love, and Amity had been just as happy in a far more reserved way.
The engagement had come a year later at Willow's coven-head announcement, and the wedding a year after that. It had been a private affair of friends, family, family of friends such as Camila Noceda and Perry Porter, and the other coven heads. They had been wed at the peak of the skull of the Titan at sunset, and it had been … magical.
The year since then hadn't been perfect; it turned out that their duties as ruler and as a coven head left genuine alone time without work somewhat scarce. But they had persevered and grown even closer through it all, treasuring their time together in a way that few did.
Time such as last weekend. And this one.
Willow's eyes lidded as she took in her husband. He'd grown even taller since his mid-teens and his shoulders had broadened, but he kept his lean runner's build. His jaw and cheekbones were more prominent and the circles under his eyes had faded considerably, though never completely gone away — and Willow was fine with that, the circles a part of him as much as his gap-toothed grin. His scars had faded somewhat, and Willow had long started kissing each one during their more "intimate" times, as if banishing the causes of his pain with her love. He'd also grown his hair out a bit and kept it in a short tail, and he always had some ashen stubble grown in.
"Welcome home, Hunter," Willow said with teasing formality, folding her hands before her in a picture of demure nobility.
"A pleasure as always," Hunter replied, nodding with his hands behind his back.
They stayed that way for several long moments before their composures started to crack and then crumble into laughter. It was a game at the beginning of these little escapes, acting all prim and proper and seeing who would laugh first. And it helped shed their "work" attitudes and make way completely for their true selves.
"Dinner's almost ready," Willow informed him, turning around to present the string of her apron, and her bare back uncovered by her sundress or ... any undergarment.
Hunter smirked and stepped forward to untie the apron, brushing his fingers over her soft skin. "Oh good," he sighed, removing the apron and then drawing her to his front and wrapping his arms around her waist to savor her soft warmth. "I've been looking forward to it all day."
"My cooking?" Willow asked, relaxing into his firm chest and reaching backward to draw his head down and closer to her.
"Hmm?" he asked absently. "Oh, right. That too," he whispered before sensually kissing the side of her neck.
Willow gave a shuddering sigh and pressed even harder backward, one hand on his forearm over her waist and the other digging into his hair to draw him ever closer around her like a warm, intimate cocoon. She felt warmth building up inside her, just as she could feel the sweet tension in her husband's frame as if he were fighting the urge to take her then and there.
Then she smelled something burning.
"The soup!" Willow shouted in panic, breaking away from his loose grip and racing for the kitchen as Clover flew in, buzzing in warning. Hunter heard himself whimper at the loss of contact, then winced and glowered at Lil Rascal as the cardinal twittered in laughter. Hunter huffed and followed his wife into the kitchen. She was bustling over a pot of meat and vegetables, which had apparently boiled over. She mixed it with a wooden spoon and tasted it, sighing in relief.
"It's not bad," she reported, glancing backward at him with a wry grin. "I hope you didn't miss me too much."
"Sure you don't," he answered with an identical grin. When Willow turned back to tend to the soup, Hunter's grin didn't change at all as he snuck up behind her and pulled her back to him, burying his nose in her hair to take in her scent. Like flowers, upturned soil and rain clouds … it never failed to relax him.
"Hunter, not in the kitchen," Willow chided, though the bite of the words was softened by her breathy tone. Hunter reached without looking and turned the stove's burner down to let the soup simmer.
"Then let's move out of the kitchen," he growled, then scooped her up in his arms with a squeal and a giggle. He kissed her forehead and made for the door to the only room left in the cabin: the bedroom.
Willow almost purred with contentment, drawing the sheets tighter as she curled into her husband's frame with her hand resting on his chest to feel the tattoo of his heartbeat. He responded by drawing her closer still, nuzzling his jaw into her hair.
Before either of them could be swept away in the tides of slumber, Willow took a deep breath and reached up to kiss Hunter's cheek. "Hunter," she whispered, "there's something I need to tell you."
"Oh boy," Hunter drawled, "that can't be good." He smiled and looked down at her, then frowned at the sudden pain in her eyes. "Willow?" he asked, and she looked away, settling her cheek back on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Willow," he said honestly, placing one of his hands on hers. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she said neutrally.
"But something is important," he said, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss her fingers. "What is it?"
"... Hunter," Willow said. "I'm pregnant."
Hunter froze like a prey animal, his eyes twitching just a little. The words sunk in and meaning grew from them. Wait, wait, wait … that meant … "Pregnant?" he whispered.
"Mm-hmm," she mumbled.
Hunter was silent for so long that Willow began to worry. And then he laughed, the sound joyous. "You'll be a wonderful mother, Willow," he said honestly, kissing her hand again. His laughter tapered off. "The kid will be the luckiest in the world to have you."
"What do you mean?" Willow asked, sudden fear grasping her heart.
"If you want to take them away from the castle, I understand. I know better than anyone that it's no place for a child." His features stretched with pain. "And I wouldn't want to be around to poison them."
Willow's eyes narrowed as fear was replaced by outrage. She shifted and propped herself on one elbow to loom over her husband, the sheets covering her modesty. "And what do you mean by that, Emperor Hunter?"
"I think we both know how the men in my family treat children," Hunter replied hauntedly, unconsciously brushing his fingers over some of his scars.
Willow huffed and took Hunter's chin in her fingers, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "You listen to me, Hunter Wittebane. You are not Belos! You're nothing like Belos. You've done more for the Isles in eight years than he did in fifty. You've fostered peace when he only brought conquest." She lowered her hand and placed her palm on his heart. "I know you, my love. And you would make an amazing father." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Because I know that you would protect them from your past."
Hunter felt tears pouring as he wrapped his arms around Willow and drew her back down into his arms, always finding strength in her confidence in him. Just like the trees for which she was named. He soaked in her warmth and her presence and her love … and thought that maybe, just maybe, she was right.
"Do you want to know your child?" Willow asked, her voice trembling.
"Yes!" he said with no hesitation. "Of course! I-I want to know our child, Willow."
Willow smiled and settled back into his warmth. Then her smile turned wicked. "How about we celebrate, hmm?" He kissed him again, full on the mouth this time, and the contact smoldered with hidden passion.
"How could I say no to that?" he replied before surrendering to his wife's wiles.
YEARS LATER
Hunter groaned as he read over yet another proposition from one of the covens, this one from the Healing Coven to form a partnership with hospitals in the human realm to trade medical knowledge and combine practices. He thought the idea was sound, but you never knew with these kinds of things how well they would actually mesh. And so he read over it with dogged determination to find any perceivable flaws.
A faint rattle of the windows to his balcony drew Hunter's attention and he stood to approach and peer out. What he saw made him smile and pass onto the balcony to watch.
His first born, Ash Wittebane, age 12, was standing squarely and confidently against his personal mentor, Eda the Owl Lady.
Fittingly for his name, Ash had inherited his father's light hair, though the green of his eyes — angular like Hunter's — round face, and stocky build came from Willow. He was dressed in the orange of Hexside's Beastkeeper track and trembling with anticipation.
Eda looked about the same as she had since Hunter had met her. As if to balance her rapid aging due to the curse, once it was broken her appearance seemed to be caught in a standstill. She twirled her staff with the erratic grace she had always been known for and waited patiently for Ash to cast the opening move.
Hunter glanced up at the ramparts of the new(er) Emperor's castle to notice numerous gargoyles perched around the area. He smiled as he realized his son's opening move a second before the boy traced a spell circle. At his command, the gargoyles screeched and converged on Eda, who spun her staff and sent them hurtling to the ground with a force-of-gravity spell.
As the two continued to practice together, Eda calling out encouragement and criticism in equal measures, Hunter placed his hands on the balcony rail and looked beyond them to his younger child, little Hazel, and Lilith who tutored her.
Hazel was a quiet and shy girl of nine years, a petite thing taking after her father with his angular features and magenta eyes, one always covered by bangs. Her round eyes, though, were Willow's, as was her dark hair. She had the hood of her cowl up, as usual, and wore the purple of the Oracle track.
Lilith still bore the grey streak from her own cured curse, but her hair had long grown out into its natural strawberry red that she doggedly kept straightened. There were more smile lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She was dressed in an ash-grey dress in similar style to her charcoal dress from her coven days, though it hung loose on her torso and off of her shoulders like the graphic tee she sometimes still donned.
Unlike the energetic and brash teaching style between the prince of the Isles and the Owl Lady, Lilith was instructing Hazel on a stone bench under the shade of a tree. She seemed to be speaking gently to the girl, perhaps advising her on contacting the wild spirits that permeated the Isles. Hazel had shown a remarkable gift with them.
As he continued to watch, he was unsurprised to find a warm hand suddenly held in his own. He looked to his right to find his beloved Willow had joined him. A quick glance backward found the Silver Spectre, Luz's awful chosen appellation, standing guard behind them.
"They're growing so fast," Hunter said wistfully.
"I know," Willow said, squeezing his hand. "Sometimes I wonder if they'll need us for much longer."
"They'll always need their mother," Hunter said firmly, releasing Willow's hand to wrap his arm around her waist and draw her into his side. "I just wonder if Ash will appreciate what his birth means." His lips drew into a tight line as he recalled the proposition he was neglecting to read over. "Or if he'll hate me for it."
"He could never hate you, Hunter. Neither of them could," Willow said, just as firmly. She lifted herself on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his cheek before returning to lean into him. "You've spent as much time as you could with them and never let them forget how much you love them."
"I don't know what I could have done to deserve them," Hunter whispered. "Or their mother," he added with a smirk.
Willow smiled back and they leaned in, but were interrupted by an egg falling and splatting next to them. They looked up to find an orange glow fading from the eyes of a gargoyle that shook itself and flew away. In perfect sync, they looked down to find Ash looking up at them with crossed arms and a deadpan look.
"I can feel your lovey-dovey blegh from a mile away, Mom and Dad," he said dryly. "C'mon, at least keep it behind closed doors."
"Leave them alone, Big Brother!" Hazel shouted, very uncharacteristically. "They are a mommy and daddy! They need to show how much they love each other or tensions will grow and spiral into chaos, for our family and then the entire Boiling Isles!"Everyone looked at her in shock, both at the meaning of her words and the fact that they came from a nine-year-old.
"Titan, she's smart," Hunter breathed to Willow. "She gets that from you, you know."
Willow giggled and took Hunter's hand to drag him past Luz and back into his office. "Come on, let's leave the kids to their practice." She looked back over her shoulder as they left the office for the hall toward their chambers, a smoulder in her emerald eyes.
Hunter sped up to drag her along, the scroll on his desk forgotten for now. It could wait.
Just a future!AU Huntlow idea I've had clattering around in my head before I finally put it to metaphorical pen and paper. Hope it was a nice read! Leave a review if you liked it, and check out my other stuff if you like. May your muse never waver.