Chapter Text
Over the past few months, Finn has learned to expect the unexpected when it comes to Huntress Wizard.
He runs into her as he and Jake are returning from a dungeon crawl one afternoon. The sun is setting, and the forest has turned yellow and orange with the season…which is why he doesn't notice her hanging from a vine.
“Hey, Finn.”
She drops to the ground, landing on her feet beside him. And he screams, because he wasn’t expecting that, sure, but also because he’s pretty sure something very similar happened in one of his dreams not too long ago.
Except she doesn’t look quite like he remembers. Like the trees around them, the leaves in her hair have turned red, orange, and yellow.
Still processing, he stares until he notices Huntress Wizard staring back at him. A wide smile breaks across his face.
“Hey! Your hair!”
Finn isn’t even sure of what he just said, only that she goes very still. Almost like she’s studying him for a second. Then, she grabs one of her leaf strands and stares at it before letting it go.
“Oh. It’s the season, I guess.” She shrugs it off, but then tilts her head and narrows her eyes. “Do you think it looks weird?”
Jake elbows him on the ribs.
“No, no, no, no, no, no. No. It looks great. Really. That color looks great on you—not that green doesn’t suit you or anything. Ha. Every color is great. Heh. Yeah.”
Dude, shut up.
He’s sweating bullets; he can feel it. His cheeks, neck, and the tips of his ears feel like they are on fire.
Okay, okay, all right. He takes a deep breath, places his hands on his hips, and pulls out his most heroic smile. Chin up and back straight.
“So, what cool biz you’ve been up to, HW?”
Now, this is why he likes hanging out with her. Instead of teasing him or pressing him about his verbal brain sneeze, she nods and stares at the trees. And only then does Finn notice a pale, withered streak cutting through the fall colors.
“Eh, not much. I’m on my way to beating an old evil witch. She’s been sweetening the river, stealing the living sap from the trees…. Can’t have that happen when the veil is this thin.“
Something clicks into place. Finn turns to look at Jake and immediately recognizes the spark of mayhem in his eyes. Now we’re talking.
Obviously, they volunteer to help. An opportunity to beat an evil witch? How could they possibly miss that?
So they track the witch, which isn’t that hard considering she’s been running mostly in a straight line and leaving a trace of dead trees in her wake.
The unexpected factor comes when they find the sorceress waiting for them by a massive cauldron. A cauldron with a drain pipe that pours directly into the forest river.
The river, the witch reveals, is contaminated with sweet potion water, a spell used to lure and capture fairies and animals so she can DIY her own candy-people-inspired army, a bunch of living stick figures stuck together with amber sap and other stolen things from the forest. Each one has sealed a creature inside, doomed to obedience. Now, her new army is still in the making, so she could surely use some additions. Every kingdom ought to have knights, she says.
“Kneel now, and I might let you remain unvarnished.”
See? You never ignore the call for adventure. Besides, this is probably not great for the Candy Kingdom. PB will want to hear all about it.
The witch launches into a long monologue about becoming a far more powerful monarch than any princess in the vicinity. Unmatched arcane dominion and all that yadda yadda. Huntress Wizard is less patient with the old crone.
“Look, dude, I don’t care. Your trash is clogging the currents. Do you know what you’ve done to my house?”
With one swift move, she shoots an arrow directly at their enemy’s eye. Chaos breaks loose. The twig army might not be too strong, but there are hundreds and hundreds of them. Even with Finn’s sword, Jake’s brute force, and Huntress Wizard’s magic arrows, the battle seems to be never-ending. They punch, and cut, and shoot at them, but they keep coming.
That is, until Jake realizes that the spell is still going. The cauldron mix is still pouring into the water.
So they stop the drainage, and Jake quickly stretches to warn all the animals and magic beings in the perimeter to stop drinking from the river.
“It’s nasty witch juice!”
Worded perfectly to be both disgusting and panic-inducing.
By the time Finn finishes off the last stick figure, Huntress Wizard already has the witch wrapped in vines.
Which leaves only the question of what to do with what’s still brewing. Huntress Wizard hums, jumps on the edge of the cauldron, and gives the mix a good look.
“Eh. A few more ingredients, and this could be a healing spell. I’d just leave it for now.”
Great. Finn loves side-quests, but right now he feels like a puppet made of wet sand. After spending the day dungeon crawling, fighting a sap-wood army, and beating an evil witch, no one can complain about his productivity. Still, he'd better sit down soon, or an arm or a leg might fall off.
Jake deflates, sits on the ground, and rolls to his side.
“You okay, bud?”
At least Jake gives Finn a thumbs up before passing out for a hot minute. Sometimes Finn forgets that they aren’t the same age. Anyway, there’s little daylight left, so they build a fire to keep warm while they rest.
After a few minutes—after Huntress puts a log in the witch’s mouth to stop her complaints—Finn decides to ask.
“So, did the river mess your house up?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t exaggerating when I said it was clogging everything. That’s why you don’t sweeten a wild river, it gums up the rootways.”
She explains that she has been trying to clear out the roots of her house for a couple of days now. It should be clean for solstice, she says. But who knows how long it will take.
Finn had forgotten that there is a river that literally runs through her living room. That really sucks. He knows he would hate it if someone messed with his home’s drainage like that. With his eyes still fixed on the fall colored leaves of her hair—the firelight makes them glow in a really cool way—he scratches at his hat, shifts in his place.
“Man, that sucks. I could help you with it, though.”
He doesn’t even think about it. He only realizes what he’s said when Jake’s eyes snap open, and he stares back at Finn, horrified.
“Well. It’s been fun, guys, but I can’t keep going on an empty stomach. Plus, I promised BMO that I’d play the villain in his play-pretend soap opera tonight.”
And he gives Finn The Stare, but Finn cannot be bothered with that right now.
Still, Huntress glances at the light through the branches, a sliver of moon visible in the night sky.
“It is getting kind of late, huh? Maybe we should call it a day.”
“Really? I could have that fixed in no time. I’ve got great root-fixing skills.”
Finn says it with a grin, and he means it. Suddenly, the hours of battling barely register anymore. He's ready to keep going now that he’s on a roll.
But Huntress waves a hand, gives him one of those small side smiles.
“It can wait a night. It will probably be easier in the daylight.”
True, true. So Finn agrees to help her the next day, and they part for the night. And the whole walk home, Finn listens to Jake snicker under his breath.
It’s not a surprise when Jake fixes him with a look as they’re getting ready to go to bed later that night.
“You know, you could’ve just said you missed her.”
“I’m just trying to help. Clogged drainage can quickly become a major issue.”
Finn explains, sitting on the edge of the bed, slipping into his pajamas. Jake gives him a deadpan stare.
“Oh, come on.”
“I’m serious. Do you remember that time you overheated that cheese sandwich, and the bathroom was clogged for days?”
“Hey! It was an accident! We said we were never bringing it up again.”
“And yet the pipes remember.”
He smiles, ready to turn down the lights, close his eyes, and drift off into the sweet land of sleep. Jake isn’t done.
“Uh-uh. And you think about her!”
“What?”
“Like, all the time. You dream about her and everything.”
With his eyes still closed, Finn frowns.
“Nu-uh. I dream about lots of stuff. Different stuff. Every night.”
“You think I can’t hear you mumbling and sighing her name in your sleep?”
Finn bolts upright.
“What?!”
“Nothing. Good night, root-fixing expert.”
Jake says, tugging the blanket up to his chin, rolling on his side, and closing his eyes.
“Jake!”
Finn insists, his voice an octave higher than he intended. And even if Jake is initially playing asleep, his play-pretend quickly turns into heavy snores. So Finn snaps the lamp off and drops back on his bed.
He has to be joking, right? Finn is not the type to talk in his sleep. BMO would have told him already. Or someone. Maybe?
And so what if he’s thinking about Huntress Wizard? What’s wrong with that? He also thinks about PB, Marceline, Jake, and even Simon. He thinks about his friends constantly.
Friends…huh.
Yeah, that’s not the word.
He doesn’t mean to make what they have less than it is. But it’s hard to define it with one word when they haven’t defined anything. He wouldn’t go around kissing princesses again, though. Man, he doesn’t even think about kissing anyone else if he’s honest. Does that count for something?
Is it the same for her?
Does she ever think about looking for him?
Finn shifts in bed, forcing himself to relax. Relax.
Maybe tomorrow they’d get to spend more time together.
He holds onto that as he falls asleep. In his sleepy haze, he sees yellow, orange, and red leaves drifting in slow circles around him. He is lying on his back, watching a flock of birds wheel overhead, disappearing into the golden light.
Luckily, there are no questions in the morning. And, as it turns out, Jake already has plans for the day.
“The weekend belongs to Lady!” he says when Finn asks him where he is heading. “Which is great, huh? Now you don’t have to worry about me chaperoning you on your date. Have fun!”
Before Finn can come up with a witty comeback, Jake steps outside, quick on his feet, whistling a sweet tune.
Ha-ha, very funny. It’s not a date, though. It’s not. Just hero duty.
So he packs a snack, makes sure he’s wearing a clean t-shirt, smooths down his bear hat, and gets on his way.
Soon enough, he’s standing before the now familiar tree.
The roots act like natural pipes, flowing water through Huntress Wizard’s house and down the cascade on the cliff. That also means that, just like with regular pipes, all sorts of junk can get stuck in them.
When she described the situation, Finn had imagined something sticky, like gum. But the reality is much worse. After a while, the water doesn’t just become tacky. It hardens into caramel. And apparently, some creatures jumped into the water during their potion-induced frenzy, because Finn can clearly see the unmistakable shapes of gnomes, squirrels, kittens, and even a bear stuck at the bottom.
“I was thinking that I could heat the water to set them free,” Huntress Wizard explains. They’re both reviewing the issue in the basement of her house, where they can get a closer look at the problem. “But that might also…you know. Cook them alive.”
Clearly, this isn’t something he can solve by hitting it with his sword, guessing from the number of green magic arrows stuck in the hardened water.
Finn scratches his chin, tilts his head to stare at the issue from a new angle.
“What about magic? A different potion?”
“I’ve tried some dissolving spells, but it’s like they are missing something. None of them has been strong enough.”
Think, think. Finn doesn’t really know much about magic, but he can deduce that whatever caused the water to solidify cannot be just tree sap.
“What about swapping the ingredients with something else?”
Huntress Wizard raises an eyebrow.
“Such as?”
“I don’t know. Something acidic, maybe?” And he grins, because he knows he’s about to sound really smart. “Whenever the pipes at the treehouse get jammed, we pour a mix of vinegar and hot water down there.”
But instead of praising his incredible mind, Huntress Wizard smirks and lets out a quiet laugh.
“That happens often, huh?”
Finn rubs the back of his neck, laughing, too. Jake would kill him for this.
“You live with Jake long enough, things happen.”
But then, something clicks behind Huntress Wizard’s eyes.
“That’s it! The cauldron!” She grabs Finn by the shoulders. Her face is suddenly inches away from his. “Finn, I know just what can solve this!”
The specific type of pumpkin that can solve this mess, Huntress Wizard explains, grows only at the top of a hill infested with tiny manticores. Which isn’t as bad as dealing with regular-sized manticores, or shouldn’t be, except Finn accidentally mentions that the pumpkins are huge. Apparently, in manticore lingo, this translates to them making fun of their size.
But these really are huge pumpkins! Which is also a problem, because even with Huntress Wizard shifting forms, they can’t simply carry the smallest of the pumpkins. Instead, they have to roll it downhill while all those tiny demons try to attack their eyes.
Then they wrestle the fruit to the place where the cauldron is located—again, ignoring the witch’s muffled complaints—crack it in two with Finn’s sword, and pour the icky fluorescent green content into the mix. After a quick stir, Huntress Wizard checks the results, dropping a piece of caramel inside to watch it disappear in a matter of seconds.
“That should be it.”
“And it won’t melt the fellows trapped in the roots?”
It kind of makes Finn nervous to see her perched on the cauldron while she’s working on a dissolving spell. But before he can say anything, she dips a finger. Nothing happens.
“Nah, it should be fine.”
Finn gives her a thumbs up, and with a quick hit to the makeshift plug they had placed there the day before, he releases the mix back into the water. And here’s one of the things that fascinates Finn the most about magic: it takes only a couple of seconds.
What had seemed impossible before has suddenly found a solution.
They watch as the mixture spreads through the river, any trace of caramel quickly disappearing
“Thanks for helping me, Finn. I guess you have really earned the title of root-fixing expert.”
Finn meets her gaze, letting the compliment set in. She isn’t really smiling, but he can feel a certain warmth in her words. A certain warmth that makes his stomach tingle and draws a smile on his face.
“Cool, I’m adding that to my hero resumé.”
With the river finally running clear, they walk together through the forest. Along the path, Finn notices some of the creatures that had been trapped in the caramelized water on their way home. After a while, they come across a little clearing.
“Huntress, what did you mean about the veil being thin?”
Finn asks, suddenly remembering their conversation the day before.
“Oh,” Huntress stops and looks up at the sky. The sun is dying again, and the moon is barely visible in between the clouds. “It’s kind of hard to explain. But every year, around this time…things shift.”
“Shift?”
“Yeah.” She sits down on the grass, her gaze still somewhere in the distance. “The worlds get closer together. The veil is the space that’s left in between. If you look carefully enough, you might see some interesting stuff.”
“Like ghosts?”
He sits by her side, happy to rest. The hours of the day seem to be flying by lately.
“Sure,” She explains, lying on her back. “But also other strange stuff I’m not sure how to name yet.”
The last part comes out in a sigh. For a second, neither of them says anything. So he lies down on the grass by her side and stares at the sky.
Then, after a minute, Huntress Wizard turns to stare at him.
“Finn…do humans have seasons?”
The question catches him off guard. He blinks, trying to sort out his thoughts. It’s not that he knows much about humans, after all. All he seems to know is basic knowledge, the stuff he has learned from books and been able to figure out along the way.
“Not really…” Finn scratches his head. He looks into her eyes and feels the genuine curiosity in them. “I mean, not like plants, that’s for sure. But I guess, humans…age?”
Huntress Wizard looks at him thoughtfully. He is not sure if he is explaining it properly. They are different, he knows that. Does aging even exist to her? Is she immortal like PB and Marceline?
That’s when a new realization sets in: there’s a lot he doesn’t know about Huntress Wizard. He didn’t even know about her changing with the seasons until very recently. Does that mean she does age? And if that’s the case…
“So you’re going to change.”
She says after a moment. It’s not a question. Finn raises both eyebrows.
“Yeah. Eventually. We grow taller and stronger—hopefully—and then, after a long time, wrinkly. Then our knees hurt and make funny sounds, we forget stuff….”
Her gaze lingers and, after a minute, a frown appears between her brows.
“Your knees?”
“Yeah, they complain when you stand up. Or that’s what I’ve heard.”
She places a hand on his cheek. His breath catches for a moment. Immediately, he feels the heat crawl up his neck, but he holds still. There’s something in Huntress Wizard’s eyes, something new in the way she seems to study him.
The next words come out low, more like a thought than one of her usual sharp observations.
“So there’s no turning back.”
Finn’s smile fades. He hears it now.
“I like this season, though. I wouldn’t mind it lasting a while.”
He doesn’t think too deeply about what he just said. It’s true. For a moment, the words hang between them. Neither breaks the other’s gaze.
Then, the corners of her mouth lift, barely. That’s enough for him.
Just the way words aren’t needed sometimes. He doesn’t think he’s ever had that before.
And something catches in his throat, clawing its way out.
“I missed you, Huntress.”
He hears it before he can even register it. Huntress Wizard's eyes widen for a second. Don’t panic, don’t you dare panic right now.
His cheeks are burning again, and he feels that she’s staring like he’s grown a second head or something. Luckily, he’s come up with something to make the moment less weird. Divert the attention.
But then, she smiles that tiny, cute smile of hers, and Finn forgets what he was about to say. Surely it was something deep and profoundly smart…
“Yeah. I’ve missed you, too, Finn.”
The surprise in her eyes has softened. There’s no quiver in her words.
Her hand is still on his cheek.
Finn is not sure of who leans in first. Only that, suddenly, the distance between them is really small. Close enough that he has a couple of seconds to notice the way her cheeks have turned a deeper shade of green before their lips meet.
He’s noticed two things about kissing Huntress.
One: He always feels like he’s instantly filled with courage. Like he could do anything, take on the greatest of challenges and come out victorious.
And two: it never lasts long enough.
So when the kiss breaks, Finn tries something he hasn’t before.
He kisses her again. And sure, it’s more like a peck, short and sweet. Still, he hopes it gets the message across. He’s not as good at speaking without words as Huntress Wizard. But he hopes she knows.
There are no dates, no hand-holding in public, and no dramatic declarations. Yet there is no doubt: he likes her. He really, really likes her.
The days get shorter after that. They don’t see each other much during the fall. But when they do, the hours have this frustrating habit of disappearing.
One afternoon, near the end of the season, he catches himself lingering a little longer as they part.
They pause at the edge of a path, glancing toward the way that leads to the treehouse. For a moment, he feels her fingers brush against his, just as he is stepping away. It halts him; she hasn’t moved from where she is standing. Then, almost imperceptibly, she gives a small nod that reminds him of the day they met by the river.
Finn exhales slowly, returning the nod with a smile before turning to head back home. All the while, the thought of saying something more sticks in his chest. But he lets it go for now.
It’s okay.
Maybe soon.