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Spiders were a common sight in Olivia's room. It was so dark and cluttered, there were many good homes for them.
Unfortunately Olivia loathed spiders. She had a fondness for morbid things, but somehow arachnids were a bridge too far. Every time she saw one she shrieked for Guinevere to come kill it.
Gwen hated killing spiders.
She had learned, through grueling trial and error, how to frighten the little creatures just enough to make them play dead. Then she could present the "body" to Olivia and assure her the threat was gone. Sometimes, she would demand it be squashed flat, and then there was nothing more Gwen could do for them. Usually though, Olivia would take one look and hide her face, begging her to flush it.
Then Guinevere could find somewhere to stow it away. Often within the joints of her own body, if Olivia didn't seem in a fixing mood. But they couldn't stay there forever.
Generally, there are two kinds of spiders. Spiders that hunt on their own, and only use their silk for bedding. And the spiders that catch their food with webs. She could respect the hunters, but they were difficult to deal with. It was the web building species that Guinevere held a true fondness for.
She was fascinated by how still they sat, in their webs. Hours and hours without moving a muscle. They sleep, she knows, much like humans do. Do they dream?
She admired how fastidious they were with their webs. The little tantrums they fly into when any debris falls in are so charming to her. Stomping over to the intrusion and snapping chords, bite bite bite with their little fangs, until it falls out. Then returning to the center and pointedly nestling down.
Sometimes they get so worked up about it that they'll spend a while grooming their little feet. A self soothing act, like a princess smoothing her skirts.
Such crabby little things. Really, they reminded her of Olivia.
She appreciated that they were easier to handle than the hunting spiders. Though the reason did make her sad. They startle so badly, and even when not playing dead, they rest for long stretches after being disturbed. Curled in their equivalent of the fetal position. The poor things just can't handle themselves outside their webs.
This, too, reminded her of Olivia.
Guinevere wasn't usually allowed to leave Olivia's room. She keeps everything she loves very close to her, arranged in dusty piles. Safe in the gloom of her nest that she's lined with all the softness she can muster. A perfect place for a fragile girl. Not as perfect for the one harboring the creatures she wishes to kill.
Today was lucky, Orville summoned them both to come see something. His intrusion was unwelcome, but Olivia did not have the liberty to bite him, send him plummeting out. She had to follow after him and save her seething for later, once she was alone with a safer target.
Guinevere hung back behind them. With her posture perfect, her face flawlessly blank, they forgot about her.
Eventually she spotted the open door of a closet, and strolled over to it. Enough haste to get there, enough ease to not be noticed. Always balanced on a knife's edge.
She had to do a funny motion to pop her hip joint open. For a terrifying moment it stuck, wasting precious time. Once it finally clicked out, the spider ran out, alarmed by the sound. She swept it up into her palm and let it free through the door.
Goodbye she thought to it, turning away the next instant.
They were both looking at her.
Gwen kept up her smile and returned to them with slow strides, doing her best not to show any fear. Letting it slip would doom her and the spider.
"Quit wandering off," Orville chided her.
He yanked at Olivia's hand as he set off again, as if she were the one in the wrong.
Olivia glared back over her shoulder as they kept walking. Flinty little eyes scanned her up and down, which Gwen recognized as her "how do I fix you?" face. Tonight is going to be awful.
She hoped the spider, at least, would be okay in its new home.
Guinevere hated killing spiders, and she hated spider killers. It was so pitiful, she thought, to destroy a little helpless thing just for being a nuisance.
She understood the feeling.