Chapter Text
“Ogrim this flower is very rare and very fragile. Do not drop it.”
Ze’mer handed Ogrim the tall slender box, a faint pale glow seeping out of its seams, holding onto it for several seconds after he had grabbed it before reluctantly releasing her grip. She eyed him up and down once more before turning to grab her own box of things and heading for the door.
“Don’t you have an entire garden of these in your backyard, Ze’mer?” Ogrim trailed behind her, making an effort to tread lightly anyway.
“If che’ told you that you would be more likely to drop it.”
They stepped through the front door of Ze’mer’s house into the dark dreary resting grounds. Many bugs scattered the area alone or in small groups around monuments and gravestones, silently grieving lost souls. The 2 knights walked briskly through the frigid air, stirring up the light fog that clung to the ground around them and catching the attention of a few of the mourning bugs.
“Thank you, by the way, the extra hands are a big help.” Ze’mer said as they approached the large elevator down into the city. It was a long trek through the city and down into the basin where the palace grounds lie. They could not take the stag ways, as Ze’mer had informed him earlier, without damaging the flower. Ogrim was still a bit skeptical that the jostling of a stag would be enough to destroy a flower but did not argue at the chance to catch up with a close friend. They stepped into the elevator and Ogrim used his free hand to pull the lever and begin their descent.
“How is Isma? Are you two dating yet?” Ze’mer asked playfully as she set her things down on the floor of the elevator.
Ogrim scoffed. “I told you it’s not like that.”
“Oh please,” Ze’mer laughed “you two are made for each other. Even the beasts of Deepnest know it.”
A small spark of hope fluttered in his chest in spite of himself, like a single butterfly in his stomach. Although he didn’t like to admit it, he did think of Isma very fondly. He didn’t think of himself all that fondly, however, and didn’t see why anyone else would either, so decided to simply ignore the conversation all together.
The elevator rattled as it came to a stop, the clinking of chains echoing through the open elevator shaft. Ze’mer gathered her things and the elevator doors swung open. The faint sounds of conversation grew louder as the 2 knights exited the elevator and entered the east side of the city.
Dozens of bugs littered each hall they traversed, all focused on their own tasks and errands. The City of Hallownest was a bustling hub, with visitors from every corner of the kingdom and much further. Although still out of place, the 2 knights raised far less eyebrows here than in the quiet cemetery they had just left.
“So what does the queen want with this flower?” Ogrim said in an attempt to change the subject that did not go unnoticed by Ze’mer.
“She said it is for ‘research purposes’… she didn’t give me any details. Che’ thinks it is for her private garden.”
“Ah, ever mysterious our queen. And what about all this?” He said, gesturing to the stack of boxes Ze’mer was carrying.
“These are my things; I’m staying in the palace.”
“That’s great! Your company will indeed be very welcome. and what happens to the mansion?”
“I’ll keep whatever doesn’t fit in my new room there, and I’ve arranged for someone to take care of my precious flowers when I can’t visit.”
After a second elevator ride and another short walk filled with casual conversation, they reached the palace grounds. 2 husk guards in blinding white armor stood at the entrance to the palace, which emanated a soft pale glow and cast long thin shadows in front of them. Ogrim squinted his eyes as they entered through the gate and began to walk down the long main corridor. Everything that wasn’t painted snow white was made of shining silver, and lanterns hung from the walls packed to the brim with lumaflies.
“Waiii! I could go blind living here!” Ze’mer groaned as she stepped inside behind Ogrim. “che’ knows they call him the Pale King, but this is a bit ridiculous.”
“Yes, a brown palace would be much more preferable!” he replied.
“On second thought, I might actually prefer vision loss.”
“Is that who I think it is?” came a deep, booming voice from the doorway at the end of the corridor. A large, towering bug in shining white armor stepped out to greet the 2 knights.
“Hegemol! How have you been my friend? You still have your eyesight I pray?”
"I don't need eyes to tell when you've arrived my smelly old friend!"
The 3 knights burst into a fit of laughter as Hegemol wrapped his arms around them in a warm embrace.
🟊♞🟊
“Ze’mer and Ogrim have arrived” Hegemol said as he stepped into the King’s dining room, walking to his chair and sitting down as the other two knights filed in behind him. The room was very spacious, with vaulted ceilings and towering frosted glass windows that leeched the color from the light that passed through them. At the center sat a pure white marble table with silver chairs set around it. The king, queen, and other knights had already gathered, and stopped their conversations to greet them.
“My Pale Queen, che’ has brought the flower you requested.” Ze’mer took her seat at the table, and Ogrim set the tall slender box in front of the White Lady’s place at the table before doing the same.
“My deepest gratitude, Ze’mer, I hope it’s not too much a burden, I know how rare and precious these flowers are.” The White Lady beckoned a royal retainer over and whispered into their ear. The retainer carefully took the box and silently left the room.
“Not at all,” Ze’mer replied, “It will look wonderful in your garden.”
“Oh, well this one is for some important research, so it won’t be planted in the garden. Although it would be a wonderful addition...” She looked up thoughtfully as she trailed off. “Perhaps another time we can take one out there.”
Before they could continue with their conversation, a line of servants emerged from a door on the other side of the room, carrying silver platters. The servants placed the platters on the table in front of each member, lifting the lids simultaneously to reveal the food beneath. Each platter had different food on it to cater to the varying dietary needs of each of the knights. Ogrim’s was a plate of mushrooms and old fruit on a bed of wilted greens. He understood why the royal chefs wouldn’t like serving actual dung on a plate in the King’s dining room, and he happily accepted rotten fruit as a substitute.
“Hey Ogrim! Did you walk all the way down here? Ze’mer told me she never takes the stags when carrying her delicate flowers, she said the one time she did the stag she was on was too rough and when she got out the flower had completely disintegrated!”
Ogrim had been so distracted by his dinner that he hadn’t realized who was sitting right next to him. Isma had turned in her chair to face him, occasionally leaning over to sneak bites of her food between sentences. Ogrim wondered how the butterfly in his stomach had grown at least three times bigger since his walk with Ze’mer.
“Yeah, it was quite the long trek but it was nice to get out for a bit. Ze’mer is pretty serious about the stag thing, she carried three boxes of her things walking the whole way, and all I had to do was hold a tiny little flower!”
“Ze’mer loves her flowers!” Isma said through a laugh that made Ogrim’s heart flutter even more. He caught a raised eyebrow from Ze’mer as Isma turned to take another bite of her food, and he sent a glare back.
“Have you ever had pickled onion?” Isma continued, taking a couple strands and setting them on his plate “here, try some.”
It was so tangy it made his mouth hurt, but the flavor was enjoyable as it faded from his tastebuds. His look of shock sent Isma into another fit of giggles.
“May I?” She said as she leaned over and took one of the mushrooms from his plate and popped it into her mouth. Ogrim made an incredulous look that earned yet another laugh from her as she tried to return a sly smile.
Although the Pale King had retired to his chamber as soon as he had finished his meal, his knights remained at the table long after they had eaten. It wasn’t often they got to share a meal all together like this, and it usually meant that they would have many long days of work ahead of them, so the knights savored every minute. Later, as Ogrim tried to get some sleep for the long day ahead of him he found his mind drifting to thoughts of Isma.