Chapter Text
"Amity! Time to get up, my darling." Golden eyes blinked open from the lull of sleep to see a dark blue ceiling full of glowing constellations. Their owner slowly rose from a bed that wouldn't have looked out of place in the land of storybooks. A four-poster with lavender-colored silk curtains draping down to create a barrier between the sleeper and the disturbances of the world. Amity, of the House Goetia, rose from her sleep in a manner most befitting those of noble birth. That is to say, she grumbled at the interruption, turned over, and tried her best to resume her slumber. Just as soon as her eyes had closed, they snapped open again when she heard her father speak up, his voice carrying the strange echo of being sent by his magic. "If you don't hurry, I can't promise Octavia won't finish off the fried rats." The tone was playful, but Amity knew he wasn't joking. Via never let anything that tasty get cold before it found a home in her stomach. She scrambled to get free of her blankets before she was left with whatever fancy but flavorless dish her mother wanted her to down. Whether or not she escaped the entangling fibers without flopping against the floor like a dying trout was no one’s business but her own. Making her way to her dresser, she shuffled out of her nightwear and into a simple gray dress with purple accents along the sleeves and skirt. She gave her mirror a glance to confirm her necklace was properly placed over the hollow of her throat. It was, the amethyst crystal shining even in the low light of her bed chambers. However, she was annoyed to see a few of the iridescent green feathers on her head, normally a striking sight against the rest of her brown plumage, pointing all over the place. Damn it! No time to fix it , she thought, as she opened her door and practically flew down the many stairs needed to reach the kitchen’s breakfast nook. If there was any downside to living in a mansion, it would be how long it takes to get anywhere. Especially when food is on the line!
She rushed down a well-lit corridor, dozens of vases filled with her father’s carnivorous plants basking in the morning rays. Numerous beautiful portraits of her family looked down on her as she passed. They began with scenes from the early days of her parent’s marriage, leading into her sister’s birth and childhood. Octavia’s pink, wrinkled skin never failing to draw a smirk from Amity. Her own baby portrait showed nothing but fine, fluffy down. There are , she mused, a few advantages to being a peahen . If she hadn’t been in such a hurry, she might have stopped to appreciate the final painting before the kitchen entrance. It was an image of her family, sans her mother. Octavia was wearing the gothic clothing and makeup she’d become so fond of over the last few years, but she had the widest smile over her face as she was embraced by her younger sister and their father. The cake with a lit candle shaped like a 13 told any viewer what the group was celebrating, but it had been more than just the princess’s hatching day. It was also the day she was presented to the high court of the Goetia family. The day she was recognized for her standing in hell, declaring to the realm of darkness that she belonged. A day to be proud of. A day that was fast approaching for Amity herself. * Grrr* . But there wouldn’t be any dark ascensions unless she could do something about the black hole in her stomach.
The sizzling from the stove hit her ears just as she made her way in the kitchen. One of the imp staff was busy with… kitchen utensils of some kind. That flat black thing with a handle. Kettle , her mind supplied. Moving past the distraction, she looked to the small table in the corner which her father was sitting at, a mug of tea in one hand and a newspaper in the other. She saw that there was a fresh plate right where she usually sat, waiting for her. What she didn't see, though, was any trace of her sister. Her dad looked up from his reading and smiled at her. “Why, good morning, my wondrous little comet!” he said, while waving a hand towards her seat. Amity didn’t move an inch. At his confused look, she merely folded her arms and raised her brow. “He he,” he chuckled nervously, pulling at the collar of his shirt, “I may have exaggerated how long it would take for Via to arrive to hurry you along.” Her golden eyes stayed locked on him, as his own struggled to avoid her gaze, still not moving. The princess may have been less than half his height, but she seemed to loom over Stolas like a giant. He was looking more uncomfortable with each passing second, his paper lying forgotten as his fingers drummed an anxious beat against the table. A tiny portal opened to his side, and he quickly reached in, rooting around for something. Bringing his hand out, Amity was shocked to see a- “Early birthday present?” Stolas seemed to ask more than declare, as he proffered a small, neatly wrapped box with a looping bow on top.
“Hmph,” Amity scoffed, “You really think you can buy my forgiveness?” The prince was flustered by her icy tone.
“No, of course not!” he began to explain, “This is merely-”
“Oh, no?” she interrupted, “That’s too bad, because you definitely could have. And if that’s not a bribe, I suppose I’ll have to stay mad.” She managed to hold her imperious scowl for all of six seconds before her father saw her shoulders begin to twitch. Within moments, they were both laughing gleefully at their exchange. Once they managed to regain some composure, Amity finally sat down and began to dig into her plate. Stolas offered the gift again, but put it back after a shake of his youngest’s head. As she worked her way through the well-prepared feast, the prince gave a slight cough to catch her attention.
“Speaking of your birthday,” he began, “How are you feeling?”
“What? Like, ‘am I feeling old and decrepit at the ripe age of 13?’” She said with a wry grin on her beak. Not being one to be fooled twice in one morning, Stolas wasn’t so flustered at his daughter’s antics this time.
“I just know that when I had to attend the ceremony, I was feeling quite a bit nervous,” the older avian explained. Amity felt most of her previous mirth melt away at that. “Via went through a similar bout of anxiety, you know?” You don’t have to tell me , she thought to herself. It may have been three years ago, but Amity would never forget the weeks leading up to her sister’s coming-of-age ceremony. Images sprang to mind before she could push them down.
Feathers, gray and white, littering the porcelain tiles of a bath chamber, plucked before they were ready .
No, Amity knew more about what Via had gone through then they would ever let their father learn. “Comet?” she heard from the other side of the table, and she realized she had zoned out for a few seconds.
“I’m fine, Dad. Like you said, just a bit nervous.” That was an understatement. Better than an outright lie , she thought. “Besides,” she continued, “I’m also really excited. After this, I’ll be a real Goetia!” Amity’s fists clenched in determination at this, a sparkle in her eye. Her dad’s eyes, both sets, widened in surprise before they refocused on her. He looked concerned?
“What do you mea-”
“That’s absolutely right, sweetie!” interrupted a shrill voice. The pair turned to see Stella and Octavia coming in. With the whole family in one room, it was easy to see who took after whom. Octavia, while she had her mother’s rose-colored eyes, was clearly more owl, with a rounded face and feathers of white and dark gray. And Amity? She was basically a smaller, more colorful clone of her mother. Much smaller , she complained to herself, Why does everybody in this family have to be a darn giant? Anywhere else, I’d be the tallest in the room . “Ugh, why are we eating where we can see the help?” There was her mother’s trademark kindness and generosity. Via sat down just as an imp laid out her plate, but the older peahen didn’t bother as she rounded the table towards Amity.
“Good morning, Mother.”
“Your crest looks like * bleep *!” she shrieked, ignoring the greeting. “Are you even preening properly?” She reached to Amity’s head, the girl’s heart quickening, and began to aggressively smooth the loose feathers sticking from her scalp. Amity felt her shoulders sag in relief. Her mother’s fussing may not feel pleasant exactly, but it was a far cry from the alternative. I’m lucky there’s still a few days left , she thought.
“Sorry, I was in a rush and-”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t change anything.” Stella chastised, an imperious glare making Amity feel even smaller than usual. “You’re lucky only we and the fire toads saw this. If the rest of the family knew how little you care for our image, you would never get the respect owed to our station.” Amity felt her brow twitch at her mother’s use of a slur, but she couldn’t help but otherwise agree. She needed to be better. The Goetia were above all. To not live up to those expectations would be unacceptable.
“I’ll take greater care in the future, Mother.” Amity said, trying to infuse as much deference into her tone as possible. Finishing her work on her youngest’s plumage, the matriarch took a step back and looked her over.
“See that you do,” she said, “We wouldn’t want them to keep thinking of you as a spare part after all.” The emphasis Stella placed on those words hit Amity like a slap, but she didn’t seem to notice as she finally took her seat. The word continued to reverberate for Amity, as she quietly ate. Spare part. Redundant. Unneeded. The rest of the room began to filter out of focus. The muffled music coming from Via’s headphones was the first to be drowned out. Then her mother’s continued chattering. Finally, even the taste of her food fled, as she mechanically continued to raise and lower her arm to eat. Maybe, if she had retained any awareness of her surroundings, she would have noticed Stolas scowling at his wife. Instead, she just kept eating. And thinking.
Later, in Amity’s bedroom, she didn’t have the luxury of dissociating. “Ow! Careful!” she cried, the imp seamstress having pricked her for the nth time. Octavia and her were standing carefully in place as their outfits for the birthday ceremony were fitted and prepared for any necessary alterations. A giggle from her left had her seething.
“Yeow!” At least until Via had her own run afoul with a needle. Ok , she thought, unable to hold back her own tittering, now I feel a little better . Via pouted at her and said, “If you think that’s funny, it’ll be hilarious when you’ve been on your feet for hours, dancing with every marquis and viscount at the party.” The playful tone didn’t stop Amity from being reminded of the weight around her shoulders. She knew very well that she needed to form as many positive connections with these people as possible. All the titles in the world were meaningless without the power to support it. Until she could wield that power on her own, she would need to surround herself with those who already could. Still, that weight wouldn’t keep her from enjoying this. Amity turned to Via with a coy smile on her beak.
“Jealous, big sister?” she teased, “Did you have your eye on one of our esteemed guests? Duke Agares, perhaps?” Amity watched as Via’s face turned green in real time at the thought of that old, wrinkled weirdo sidled up to her.
“Urgh, don’t even joke like that,” she said, but Amity could see the traces of a smile behind the disgust. They continued like this for the next few minutes. Trading friendly barbs, gossiping about who amongst the partygoers would try to suck up to their dad, and whether Via would try to sneak some champagne. That sent them both on a tangent of why there was even an age limit on the stuff in the first place. It’s Hell! After a while, though, Via was a little less responsive, and Amity grew concerned when she let out a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Via remained quiet for a few moments, like she was deciding whether or not she wanted to say anything. It was a little awkward, as the moment of silence stretched on for half a minute. Amity was about to leave it alone when Via made up her mind.
“I’m… worried.” Amity expected more, but when her sister didn’t continue she looked to her.
“About?” she prompted. Via still didn’t immediately answer, and when Amity followed her shifting gaze to the small team of hellborn surrounding them, she understood. She quickly asked them to take a break. When a few of them seemed unsure, not wanting to risk her mother’s ire, she said they had full permission to ask the kitchen staff for anything they wanted. After that, the ‘professionals’ tore out of the room like flaming twisters from Wrath. Moving to her bed, Amity waved her sister over to join her.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice as soft as she could make it. Via took a breath before responding.
“When… what happened before my ceremony happened, you were there for me when nobody else was.” Amity was surprised to hear her sister bring that day up. Although, considering the timing, maybe she shouldn’t have been. “I felt like a failure,” she went on, “but you held me through it. I promised myself that I’d do the same when the time came for you.”
“You don’t need to worry, I’ll-”
“That’s my job!,” she denied, shutting Amity down. “I’m your big sister. Being there for you is already a given.” Now, it was Amity’s turn to fall silent, her eyes wide. She opened her mouth, but no words followed. How did one respond to something like that? Many of the finest things life could offer were amassed in the Goetia manor, but sincerity like that was not nearly as abundant. The other princess seemed to notice Amity’s struggle, so she continued, “I tried to play it cool down there. Tried to just block out everything with my music. But when she…” Via closed her eyes, as if to ward off a nightmare, “I almost flipped the table. But you? How can you be so calm?” Amity looked down to see Via clenching her fist. It looked painful. She reached over, covering her big sister’s hand with her own, and looked her in the eyes. This next part would be hard, she knew, but Via needed it.
“I’m not calm,” she admitted, deciding to return the gift of sincerity, “It just looked like that on the outside. Inside, it felt like my body was screaming at me. I’m terrified that I’ll disappoint her. That I’ll mess everything up.” Via gave her a curious look at that, but she didn’t interrupt. Amity was thankful for that. If she didn’t get this out now…She gulped, feeling herself begin to choke up, as she held back the tears she could feel at the corners of her eyes. “The only reason I can keep putting on that face and just nod along is because I’m the luckiest person in Hell. I was born having you as a sister.” The last syllable had barely left her beak when Amity found herself being squeezed to death by the now crying owlette.
Once they had cleaned Via up, and their tormentors were done with their dark work, the pair changed back to their normal outfits and went down to the sitting room. They were then treated to a sight most heinous. Parental flirting. “Oh, you fu-* quack * * beep *!”
“How dare a * beep * like you say that!? * DONG * you and the syphilitic hole you * tweet * out of!” Amity may not understand half of what her parents said when they got like this, but it always seemed to go the same way. Mum, or Dad, would give the other a passionate stare. Then, they would scream that passion at each other with words so obscenely graphic that no one was allowed to hear them anymore. Amity often wondered how a word could be that bad, especially here , of all places in the cosmos. After the verbal foreplay, the older avians would often lock themselves in their bedroom, where the sisters could hear all sorts of crashing and thumping sounds that they tried not to think about. Glad the spark is still there, but try to keep it wholesome , she complained to herself. Thankfully, this time the prince stopped his side of the tirade, as he spotted his daughters.
“Girls!” he greeted them, smiling, “What’s the verdict?”
“My outfit’s fine,” Via answered, “but I’m not sure about dear sister’s.” Amity’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at her sister’s tone. “I’m thinking we should add a pouf wig! Mum, didn’t you have one made of the finest Hellhorse hair when you were her age?” And there it is , Amity thought.
“What a fun idea!” Their mother exclaimed, ignorant to the sisterly prank being pulled. “IMP! Go through my closet and find it!.” As the frazzled servant rushed off, Amity was considering whether smacking Via in the back of the head was worth standing on her tiptoes and looking ridiculous. when a prince came to the rescue.
“I’m sure any last-minute fashion changes can wait,” he said. He reached into his cloak, bringing out a folded piece of paper, “After all, we have some rather fantastic news to share.” Stella seemed to puff up at his words, surprising Amity with what seemed to be a genuine smile. “A very special guest has just RSVP’d for your ceremony,” her father continued, handing Amity what she could now see was a letter.
“‘Fantastic’ is putting it lightly,” Stella said, as Amity unfolded the letter, “Can you imagine what they will say when she is at my child’s party.” She went on, but Amity tuned her out as she read.
Dear Stolas and Stella of the Ars Goetia,
It would be my pleasure to attend your youngest daughter’s ceremony. We may not have known each other for long, but I am happy to count the house of Stolas as a friend and would be remiss in missing a chance to support you all. I am eager to see what we may all expect from the future generations of this realm. Together, they will form a new foundation for Hell to rely on. It is with that in mind that my allowed plus one shall be none other than my daughter. We both look forward to this honor.
Nothing of the message was particularly surprising for Amity. Although the tone was more friendly than usual, a few dozen similar sentiments had been arriving over the weeks leading up to the event. No, the surprise waited for her near the very bottom of the paper. When she realized just who sent the letter. Who would be coming to see her take her place among Hell’s elite. Whose daughter would be coming along.
Sincerely Yours,
Camila Noceda-Morningstar, Queen of Pride, Consort of the Fallen
She stood there staring at the words for a minute before she heard Stolas’ voice break through the shock. “Isn’t this amazing, Comet? The Queen and the Princess will be there for your special day!” She looked to her father, who was practically wiggling in place in his excitement. She looked to her mother, who hadn’t stopped talking, even though nobody seemed to be listening. Finally, she turned to her sister, who had a knowing smirk on her face. There was only one word that came to mind at that moment. She had only ever seen it written, so she wasn’t sure if she could pronounce it right. However, it seemed rather appropriate, and she decided to go with it.
“#^!%” Huh, got it in one , she thought.