Work Text:
Vespa walked along the edge of the only forest left, his eyes watching his talons. Next to him was another HiveWing, one he didn’t know the name of nor cared to know. The spear shifted in one of his talons as he looked up, trying to pay some attention during the patrol. Ever since the Tree Wars he had lost so much; Tiger had been killed while trying to stop the fighting, Laurel probably dead along with her seeing as all LeafWings were chased out and killed. He missed his youth, frolicking with every tribe without any issue, no wars or hatred, ruled by a Queen who had everyone’s interests in mind. Now they had Wasp, who somehow made two tribes extinct and the other two under her control. He had barely avoided being a part of the weird hive mind she had built, controlling other HiveWings and making them do whatever she wanted. He hated it. Now he was enlisted as a soldier, patrolling the poison jungle for any leftover LeafWings or BeetleWings, to kill them of course.
The armor was heavy and hot, the spear he was gripping hurting his talons. He wished he was doing something other than this, but he had no excuse to do anything but a soldier.
He was partnered with Tiger once upon a time, as every SilkWing or LeafWing would be with a HiveWing or BeetleWing (most times they are chosen depending on bond), seeing as the two tribes needed the protection from the latter.
He missed the other two so much, and once Tiger had died he refused to bond or be partnered, mostly out of grief and partly the fear of having his next one die as well.
Vespa was faced with constant loneliness. Funny how one could feel that way despite being part of a hive, always surrounded by “friends”.
The leaves rustled next to him, and him and his friend brandished their spears at the invisible threat. It was suddenly silent, the chirping and wind from before having ceased, leaving him with just his thoughts.
There was a screech and he turned to see his partner gone, leaving him alone and scared. He never should have come here, he should’ve run far far away, escaped the hives and the conflict.
Something pushed him to the ground, now pinned by sharp talons as a spear was aimed at his exposed throat.
This was it, he was going to die.
He waited for the pain, the blood, the death.
But it never came, and he peaked one eye open to see the dragon standing on top of him. Small, green with white and purple dappling, covered in scars and wearing a shocked expression.
Laurel.
“V-Vespa?” she gawked, letting go of the spear in her hand and letting it fall to the ground.
She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead she wasn’t dead it’s not a dream SHE’S ALIVE!
He hugged her, his four arms clutching the smaller dragon tight as he sobbed, Laurel breaking down with him. He wasn’t alone anymore, she wasn’t dead. She was right here with him.
There was a snarl as the two broke apart, a BeetleWing rushing at Vespa with startling speed, horn down and about to stab him.
“Stag wait! He’s not the enemy!”
The warning was too late, and he felt the horn pierce his side, green-yellow blood oozing from the wound now formed on his side. He remembered lacking fear for the normally gentle giants, seeing them as guardians, saviors, parents.
Now he was going to die to one. It was kinda funny, how fast things turned around, everyone’s views on everything warped and distorted.
Everything was blurry and muffled as he fell to the ground, hearing a faint roar of despair and anguish.
But he was still happy, he got to see Laurel one last time, alive and well (well, as well as she could be in this situation). Maybe he would see Tiger too in the afterlife, or wherever he was going.
He closed his eyes and was greeted by a peaceful silence.
——
He could hear so many voices, feel a talon grabbing his, muttered apologies, something wrapped around his waist and covering the slash.
This didn’t feel like the afterlife.
Using what little strength he had, he opened his eyes to see some dragons standing around him, although blurry.
He could see some of the dragons clearly though, like the one that was holding one of his talons; Laurel. She was apologizing about so many things, especially him being stabbed, to which the BeetleWing by her side looked away guiltily. He could barely hear some of them, but he still felt safe, even if almost every dragon in the room looked at him as if he would kill them all. It did make sense, their fear.
But that wasn’t what he was focused on. He had so much to tell Laurel, so many things to warn her about, to laugh about, to cry about.
All these things he had been waiting to say could be said now. All the things he had wished they got to say as dragonets, before they became older, before the world turned upside down.
And now he was no longer alone.