Wow I had to fight some serious writers block there - so sorry guys! I will try to update more frequently than this, but I'm still muddling through some story points so it might be irregular.
anyhoo, enjoy the chapter folks.
-Muse's Echo
(also I don't own Gravity Falls, the characters, etc. Sadly, that accomplishment belongs to someone else)
At 9 AM, Rowan finally left her studies and headed down the hall for breakfast. She should be tired after spending most of the night researching, having doubts about her grandmother's honesty, and dealing with an overall existential crisis, but she wasn't. In fact, she was certain that she had never been so awake before. This hyper-aware state was subtle, but everywhere Rowan looked the world was different somehow. The carpet felt a little softer under her feet. The specks of dust floating lazily in the beams of summer sunlight were more distinct. The whispering rustle of a window's open curtains reached her from the end of the hall. The texture in the old, flowery wallpaper was more noticeable. The small creaking in the old floor sounded richer, and the ends of her long hair tickled her back through the cotton fabric of her tank top. But she was most interested in the smell of the plants.
As with the rest of Oma's house, potted plants lined the walls of the hallway, resting by doorframes, hanging from the ceiling, and placed on tables by family pictures. Oma's green thumb bordered on obsession. These plants usually filled the cottage with a pleasant earthy smell, and sweet-smelling flowers accented the air with their pollen. But today, Rowan swore she could smell the fresh oxygen rolling off the leaves. She moved toward a curious vine with fuzzy leaves and inhaled deeply. The sharp, fresh smell was addictive. In her next breath, however, a warmer, more familiar smell wafted out of the kitchen doorframe and wandered into the hall to tempt her empty stomach.
Waffles!
Leaving the vine, she shook her head. Enough weirdness. I'm hungry! She grinned. Waffles were the best way to start the day in Rowan's opinion. Much better than pancakes – don't ask her why, she didn't know. Abruptly, it occurred to Rowan that pancakes and waffles are made of the same ingredients; they smell the same. But sure enough, as she entered the kitchen, a plate stacked with waffles sat in the middle of the breakfast island.And the weirdness is back. Rowan sighed. It was going to be a peculiar day and there really wasn't anything she could do about it.
The pesky thought that she should ask Oma about witches would not leave her alone, but alas, neither would her doubts about the subject. However, Oma was missing from the kitchen, so the question and its debate would have to wait.
"Oma?"
There was a clatter from the pantry, and a muttered, "By the oaks," before Oma stuck her head out from behind the door. She wore a cheerful grin, which strongly contrasted the irritated oath she had uttered a moment before.
"Good morning, dear!"
"Morning, Oma." Rowan smiled back at her grandma; Oma's moods were always infectious.
Now ask her.
Still standing behind the door, Oma challenged Rowan. "You'll never guess what today is!" Rowan, however, had no idea what her grandmother could be excited for. June 14th? …It's not a holiday or anything, unless – Oh, NO. Is it Oma's birthday? Frightened by the thought that she might have forgotten her grandmother's birthday, Rowan froze. But Oma was too caught up in her cheerful mood to notice Rowan's stricken expression.
"It's Pioneer Day!" Rowan's concern quickly slipped into confusion.
"What's Pioneer Day?"
Oma's head disappeared for a moment, then she shut the pantry door, revealing her outfit. She was wearing a buckskin dress with fringe decoration. It was a light beige color and decorated with lines of blue and green beads from shoulder to shoulder. Underneath the blue-and-white striped hem she was wearing a pair of tan moccasins, decorated in more blue beads sewn in a triangle pattern. Even her white hair was braided into strands that reached down to her lower back. She looked excited. "Pioneer day is the celebration of the day Gravity Falls was founded. Everyone dresses up in costumes, and there is a fair at the town square. Everyone is celebrating the past, so this is a big day for the antique store. So, sweetie, I'm going to need your help in the store today. Is that alright?"
Due to some unlucky timing, Rowan had grabbed a waffle and took a bite just as Oma asked her question. So, rather than waiting to swallow, she spoke around the unfortunately large waffle-wad in her mouth. "Sure. I don't really have anything to do here anyway." Except some more magic research. Oma smiled and Rowan swallowed. "Now, the real question is: do I have to wear…" She gestured to her grandma's getup, "That?"
Oma frowned a little in thought. "No, I suppose not. Most of the youngsters don't. But, I do have something for you."
She rushed out of the room, and Rowan listened to the hurried sound of her footsteps moving down the hall to her bedroom. She glanced at the clock while grabbing the syrup bottle from the edge of the counter. The analogue clock resting by the immaculate stovetop read 9:12 AM. They were going to be late to open the store. Again.
Leaving the syrup, she stuffed the rest of her waffle into her mouth and ran down the hallway to her room. Rowan did her best to ignore the additional stimuli of the second trip down the hall, but it was like things wanted to be noticed. Pushing the strangeness to the edge of her thoughts, she quickly found a clean pair of shorts and a mostly non-wrinkled top, then grabbed her converse and a ponytail elastic. After a moment's consideration, she shoved The Wiccan Casters into the blue, embroidered purse from the attic and slung it over her shoulder, before heading back to the kitchen. Oma was still rustling around in her room. The clock now read 9:16.
"Oma? We have 4 minutes!"
"Yes, of course, dear. But first…" Unexpectedly, Oma's voice came from the kitchen doorway, catching Rowan by surprise. She held out a pair of earrings. They were made of small, soft feathers that hung down loosely from the hooks. "…These are for you. I made them from some barred owl feathers I found out in the woods." She paused, watching Rowan's face expectantly. Rowan thought that the earrings were beautiful, but even more than that, she felt drawn to them. In her new sight, the image of the feathers almost seemed to sing. Gently, she took them from her grandmother.
"These are beautiful. Thank you, Oma."
"Oh, good. I'm glad you like them. The feathers were going to be a part of my next dreamcatcher, but they reminded me of you for some reason." Rowan put on the earrings and stroked them, feeling their softness. They reminded her of her dreamcatcher. Ask Oma about magic.
With a quick hug, Oma grabbed her purse and was out the door, calling for Rowan to follow. Oma talked for the whole four-minute car ride to the store. Asking her about magic and witches was going to have to wait. Too bad.
.oOo.
The town square was completely decked out for Pioneer Day. It was all rather impressive. People travelled in covered wagons, nearly everyone was in a period-accurate costume, and even the policemen wore sheriff badges and carried only a bell, rather than their usual batons. Regardless, they had successful locked someone in the stocks by lunchtime. There were tourists milling about, obvious by their lack of costume. In the middle of the square a stage set up, and the mayor of the town had given a commencement speech, mostly consisting of the phrase "get 'em." Rowan also noticed Pacifica sitting on stage next to the town socialites, the Northwests. Wait. She's their daughter! Pacifica Northwest. …What a name. Pacifica looked uncomfortable, or extremely bored. Possibly both. Rowan tried to catch her eye to give her a smile or a wave, but she never looked up from examining her nails.
After the speech, Rowan was hurried back to the store by Oma. They had been quite busy. Apparently Pioneer Day makes all the old things fashionable again. Most didn't buy much, but Rowan figured that Oma was making a good profit regardless. She had a inclination to sell things for more than they were worth, claiming that their age made them valuable.
Despite the many customers, Rowan found herself rather useless. Behind the counter there was only space for one cashier, and most people didn't want help looking for anything.
She was playing with her earrings when someone tapped her shoulder. Rowan turned, shaping her mien into salesman-like charm. "Hello, can I help you wi— Mabel!" Momentary joy flowed through Rowan, before she saw what Mabel was wearing. Her somewhat-period dress was a bright pink and blue, mock-style pioneer costume, bedazzled at the hems. The bright colors screamed at Rowan, and it just seemed very… Mabel. "What are you doing here?" Rowan asked. Mabel grinned wickedly, looking very much like she did before wrangling the mosquito.
"I'm here to bust you out."
"What? Why?"
"Because you look utterly bored. And Dipper may have a few questions for you."
"About what?" The bell for the store's door chimed, and Mabel ducked down behind a dresser, pulling Rowan with her.
"When you hear the word 'stardust' follow me."
"Stardust? Mabel, what is happ-"
"Shh! Listen!" Mabel pointed toward the counter, and Rowan peeked around the dresser. Dipper was at the counter talking to Oma. He looked slightly nervous, he kept scratching the back of his head. After a moment, he pointed to a display case across the room, and they headed toward it.
He pointed to one of the figurines in the case and said, slightly louder, "Uh, that one looks like stardust… kinda."
Still grinning, Mabel took Rowan's hand and wove through the store's customers to the door, gently opened it, then pulled Rowan through. She raced off toward the other side of the square. Mabel was an impressive sprinter – despite her long skirt. When Rowan finally caught her breath, the first thought she had was, I just ditched my grandma.
Mabel was beginning a victory dance. "Whoo-hoo! We're home free!"
"I just ditched my grandma." Rowan felt a flood of guilt crashing down on her. "Mabel, I just ditched my grandma. Is there anything more heartless?" Mabel's grin faltered. Her happy expression crumpled, and she seemed to cave in on herself.
"I didn't think about that… If you want to go back, that's okay. It's just… Are you a wizard, or a fairy or something? What was that light yesterday?"
"Yeah, seriously, how did you do that?" Dipper had caught up to them, and had arrived in time to hear Mabel's question.
"Oh, that. Yeah." Rowan steeled herself. Admitting it out loud to another person was going to be even worse than she thought it would be. Saying it to someone else, would make it real, and magic and reality did not belong together. But last night, she had just cast a spell. And Mabel and Dipper had seen her, so it wasn't exactly a secret. Taking a deep breath, Rowan spit out, "IguessI'mawitch."
Mabel paused… "What?"
"I said, 'I guess I'm a witch.'"
Mabel's eyes widened, and her grin returned. "Cool," she uttered, in total admiration. Dipper was more skeptical.
"A witch?" Rowan nodded. "Any connection to the hand-witch?"
"The what?"
"A creepy old woman who once stole our grunkle's hands. Next question, what can you do?"
Rowan shrugged. "I have no idea. Magic, I guess." Dipper's expression betrayed his rising skepticism. "Look, I didn't even know that magic was real until yesterday. Before that, the weirdest thing I knew about was monster hunting teens, and before that it was ketchup on waffles! The amount of weirdness in my life has sky-rocketed, and on top of it all, my senses will not leave me alone! The sun is too bright, everyone is yelling at me, and that guy over there smells like sour milk." Without looking, Rowan pointed at an older man over 20 feet away. Dipper and Mabel looked at him and recognized a local dairy farmer, then turned amazed faces toward Rowan. Dipper removed his ever-present backpack and quickly dug out a note book and a pen.
"Do you mind if I write this down?"