Chapter Text
Hornet’s wings beat against her back, brushing off the dust and dirt that has collected from her trek through the Howling Cliffs. No travelers have come here, not since the Grimm Troupe’s departure. Just as Hallownest attracts visitors, it might repel them, too. Without the Ritual for Ghost to worry about, they’ve made headway on preparing to face the Infection. Any smart bug would do good to keep their distance, to avoid the fallout of freeing the Hollow Knight.
She would have kept away as well, as Ghost had long since proved themselves strong enough to face most difficulties on their own. However, she found herself watching over them from a distance first and tagging along with them later. There were things about Hallownest that they were curious about: the spider silk traded to the City of Tears in the Kingdom’s waning days, the old husk the Colosseum had been built in, and other things that Hornet once regarded with little interest. She found herself struggling to keep up with them and their seemingly endless energy.
‘Seemingly’ is an important word. Right now, they’ve fallen asleep on the bench in Dirtmouth, much to the amusement of the townsfolk. Hornet sighs and uses some of her silk to fashion a sling, so she can carry them home on her back.
For the time being, ‘home’ is Greenpath, close to the entrance of the Crossroads. Here there is fresh water, prey that is easy to hunt, and relative safety. It is a temporary arrangement, with the hopes that they will all agree on something more permanent later. The current population of their camp is four bugs, and if things go well, Hornet and Ghost’s elder sibling will make it five.
Hornet crawls into Ghost’s den and settles them down into their nest. She is followed in by a little winged figure, who playfully tries to attack her fingers. Hornet catches the mewling creature, and puts a finger to her mouth. “Shh, Phaedra. Let them rest.”
The Grimmchild responds with a loud squeak. Outside the den, she hears another voice.
“She’s vexed that you didn’t take her with you this time.”
“She’ll have to get used to it.” Hornet swings around and deposits Phaedra into Grimm’s arms. “We can’t bring her everywhere.”
She scoots back out into the open, where Grimm is sitting on a spread out blanket. Feeling a bit tired herself, she folds her wings away and settles onto his lap. His fingers are immediately on her back, rubbing away the tension she had been carrying all day.
“Tired?” he asks gently. Phaedra has settled around his shoulders like a cute, sleepy stole. Hornet mumbles and shoves her face into his chest. His heartbeat sounds just like any other bug’s now. No more lifelike nightmares. No more shows or strange rituals to perform. She can’t really refer to him as the Troupe Master anymore, when he has no troupe.
The two of them are no strangers to loss and change, but she can keenly sense that he’s struggling to adjust. She gently pushes him onto his back, and Phaedra wiggles out from beneath his neck. Hornet watches her get distracted by and pounce a ball of moss, chasing it all the way into Ghost’s den. The Vessel rolls over and puts their pillow over their head.
She feels Grimm’s arms around her, holding her against hi m as he gives her a short but sweet kiss. The tips of her horns go pink; she can’t help but look away. Grimm steals another kiss from her and cups her chin, rubbing his thumb just under her eye.
It will be a long time before they are separated again, if she can help it.