Chapter Text
Balancing atop her desk, Hornet used a rag to push away the dust on her shelves. In her time away the home had collected a simply unacceptable amount of thread and pulverized shell, all strewn about it’s interior. She had decided cleaning by working her way from top to bottom would likely be the most efficient method, so while her bath and loft were now spotless, each of her mementos sat unorganized on her disgusting bed. The thought of any of the item’s previous owners seeing them in such a state was enough to make one die of humiliation. Though, many of the previous owners were dead, so she supposed it didn’t matter too terribly much. Regardless, she finished attacking the shelves as fast as she could so she could finally begin dusting the items.
Any regular bug would not think twice about the amount of dust each item had on it, capable of being removed with one pass-over with her cloth, but she was a bug of respect. Each item was deserving of intensive care. Either because of who it once belonged to, or what had to go through to retrieve them. She finished polishing each item, trying hard not to look too long at the bisected, green heart that continued to pulsate, even now. Reflection on what she’d done to the Prince, along with the rest of her journey, would have to come soon, but she’d much rather ponder such matters walking the lands, or relaxing in a warm bath. For now, it was time to deeply ponder the filth on her writing desk.
The quaint house in Bellhart had not been cleaned since it was bought all that time ago. The dirt collected by her occasional visits joined with the stagnant air festering from the building’s disuse to create a thin crust coating the entire building. A large bell was not the easiest shape to clean, but Pavo had been kind enough to scrape the interior walls, and several firm strikes to the side loosened the exterior shell enough to simply brush off any remaining dust. As she began tidying her papers, a soft knock filled her home. Looking to the door Hornet was delighted to see Pavo step inside, though another turning fully to greet him, she noticed he wasn’t in high spirits. He stood nervous, uncomfortable, the complete antithesis of his normal melodic self. Rubbing his tarsi together he began, “I loathe the idea of bothering you, dear resident, but I was hoping you may be of service to us once again.”
“You may refer to me as Hornet, Pavo. I believe we’ve gone through enough hardship together to call one another by more than titles.” Hornet tossed her rag onto the half cleaned desk.
“Quite right Hornet, I apologize.” He spoke hesitantly, folding his pretarsi behind him, “ahem, there is a young one in town asking for you. Though I imagine ‘demanding’ is a better term. She seems familiar almost, I may have seen her while my mind was entangled with the Grand Mother’s threads.”
An acidic bile began to rise in Hornet’s throat. Surely it was anyone besides her. There must have been a dozen other petulant children on her journey right? Plenty of people she wouldn’t dread explaining herself to, “were you able to ascertain any… identifying characteristics about them?”
“Well she claimed to be very important, and when Frey attempted to calm her she maintained that she ‘was not a child, and would not be treated as such.’ However, I must say it's difficult to believe her when observing her frame and the tantrum she was throwing when I left.”
May the gods damn her for being so foolish as to hope. “Thank you Pavo, I’ll be down to the town square as soon as I am finished. Do me a favor and entertain her a moment if you’re able?”
As Pavo shut the door and left to deal with the town’s new pale pest, Hornet collapsed face first into her bed. Eyes pressed firmly against the silk comforter, she breathed her frustration into the fabric. A breath turned into a grumble, a grumble into a groan, and a groan into a scream. Why was she here? Saving someone’s life should be more than enough to get them to leave you alone, and yet! In one light, it was easy for Hornet to see Lace as another victim of Grand Mother Silk. She and Phantom had a familiar tragedy to their existence; creatures made in an attempt to maintain some pale tyrant’s illusions of worship. The story was awfully familiar to her two favorite siblings.
Hornet kicked her legs over the side of the bed. How were they she wondered? Little ghost had disappeared shortly after the infection left the kingdom, and seeing them save her life in the abyss solidly confirmed her theory that they were responsible. Shortly after the not-so-Hollow Knight had broken free of their prison, she had taken to calling them Wraith. They seemed to appreciate having a name, and it certainly made introducing them to the locals easier. Assuming nothing has gone horribly wrong, Wraith should be resting at their home in Dirtmouth or creating a new shell carving.
Ghost and Wraith, mysterious siblings, not quite bug. It was very tempting to lump Phantom in with them from name alone. Perhaps she did hold a certain sympathy for the poor bug, their bratty sister however…
Grabbing her rag, Hornet decided that if she was to have a guest, she wouldn’t leave anything obvious for her to critique. The desk only has a thin layer of dust, being one of the more used items in the house during her journey, but a dusting was needed none the less.
Moments later the desk was clean, Hornet made sure she grabbed her needle as she set off from her home. It was equally possible for this visit to be one of thanks or one of violence. Descending the ringing steps from her home, she heard the shrill insistence of Lace’s voice.
“Listen to me you dung pushing peasant! The spider and I have business to discuss, so you’d be wise to take your leave before my pin pierces-” Hornet watched Lace’s eyes lock onto hers, her demeanor changing instantly. “Little spider! There you are! I was surprised to hear someone of your status had taken residence in this backwater dump. May I speak to you?” She eyed Pavo, “Privately?”
Hornet’s jaws tightened and curled. She turned towards shellwood, the sound of soft steps quickly gaining on her. “Spider I must insist we-”
“Follow me.” Hornet did not look back, “you may speak as we walk.”