Chapter Text
"One two three. Four five six. Follow the steps."
Lace's voice comes softly as the pair sway in the bellhome.
Hornet had intended to return far sooner but she's been alone for far too long.
Just one more moment. A kiss. A word.
Is it truly so selfish?
"Hornet! Pay attention!"
Lace had apparently begun teaching her seven eight nine. The lapse in focus landed her atop Lace on the ground.
"Apologies. I was lost in thought." Hornet hastened a retreat, standing up again and reaching her claw for Lace. "You have my full attention."
The silken woman hummed for a second, considering the offer. "It's one thing to say it, spider dearest. But we've been on the basics now for forever! It's as though every time you learn a step you forget the last." Lace took the aid in getting up and stood again in front of Hornet, claws clutched close. "I've been worried about you... You haven't slept since I got back."
A twinge of fear in her. Was it shame? As though caught in the act. It seemed unfitting an expression on her.
"I've not found the time for it." she lied. "It is a heavy task ahead of Pharloom and I've been eager to pour my time into it. I assure you I'll rest when I need to." she scanned Lace for softness but none was left.
"Do you take me for a fool, spider? You've been spending most of your time tending to my every single need and in that time you may well have rested more then any bug in this wretched kingdom!" She sits down on their shared bed and pats the covers beside her indignantly. "If you won't find time to rest then I will find it for you! We will lay here in bed and sleep blessedly together as lovers fucking ought to and you are not leaving this bed until you've rested!"
A beat passes. Hornet seems stuck in choice as she looks at Lace pleading with her eyes for mercy, but she will not budge.
Eventually the red maiden relents, sitting beside her partner on the bed. Tarsi entwined as they both lay down together.
"Relax, darling. You're crushing my sternum! Nothing's going to happen if you relax, ok?"
Hornet nods quickly but doesn't relax fully. Not just then. Even as the waking leaves her limbs she holds.
A kiss. A word.
"I love you Lace..."
Bright light. Cold metal bench. The ringing of the bell in Songclave as a new cycle is marked.
Hornet wakes with a start.
She's seen the future where it all works out.
It's not a simple thing for one only Wyrm in half, to dream so far into the future. moreso for the vines astride her soul.
But it pays to be careful with a gambit like this.
To ensnare a thing like Grand Mother Silk... It took the Weavers a Citadel to do such a thing.
To do it alone is a manner complicated with many points of failure, but she knows the path now.
She traps the god, gathers the hearts, goes below to save the child and rise with her to Bellhart.
It's only a matter now of following her footsteps.
She rises off the bench and stretches, relaxed, this is how she did it in her vision.
On to Sherma next, a final goodbye before he ascends to caretaker.
She's heard this song before of course, but she finds comfort in this repetition.
One two three.
Four five six.
Follow the steps.
She finds herself next in the cradle, past the flower bed where she'd fought that silken child. Moving swiftly past Weaver spawn who died in their cages, a fate she might have shared if not for that very same woman.
Lace...
She feels the vines clawing at her from within, strange forms squeezing in where muscle and tendon should meet. Hungry. Clawing.
This too was predicted. Still, it reminds her not to tarry.
"Ain't you come a long way, bellringer! Granting wishes, saving bugs, even rousing my sullen family to act!" spoke the caretaker as she met him under the grand mothers cocoon. A grating voice, tired and cynical. Yet here it rings out honest.
"The snare is set above, our power bound along its thread. To your sight it may seem a crude thing, but there's fair strength to it... enough to quell a god."
"You and your family have done me well, sir. I shall prove your faith in the meeting ahead."
One two three.
Four five six.
Follow the steps.
"Aye. Bring your best, bellringer. Call forth our great pale god. Cut her weak, then drive the beast down atop the snare.
Contact made will stir the snare alight, but only your needle's song will awaken the spell in full. When that moment arrives, you'll see it clear."
She moves smoothly through these harried halls, weighed down by sorrow and unspent potential.
Time wasted enough that even a god eternal mourns its loss. Her cocoon hanging dormant in the center of this vast cavern.
Stop.
She stopped here last time.
Why was it she did that? She can't recall, tough it hardly matters.
She takes in the feeling of stone neath her tarsi. The stale, silk choked air which seemingly stood still for many lifetimes.
She's spent far too long in the company of the such and was happy to be moving on, step to step with her visions.
Finally she alights on the bridge where she will fight her.
Even in slumber she gleams pale...
Would that Hornet wanted that power, all she'd need do is not play the needolin...
She pushes the urge down, steps in front of the monarch and calls out clear "Garama!"
A moment, then she wakes.
Grand Mother Silk emerges furious from the cocoon in gleaming light and piercing scream, frayed silk gleaming bright in the air as it is ejected from her cage.
Weavers trapped her and Weavers now wake her. How far can they damage the pride of one pale before consequences are due?
One two three.
The god is staggered. She waits half a second then strikes at the chest.
Four five six.
Hornet is struck a deathly blow. A calculated price.
Follow the steps.
One last strike, then...
Grand Mother Silk howls in pain, the cave buckling at the pull of her strings.
One two three.
With a flash, Hornet swipes around the monarch, tying her tight in her silk.
Four five...
This is different.
She afixes her needle to the monarch's blank visage.
The string is taught, her claw at the ready. But she cannot move.
Why is it different??
Pain hits her like a tidal wave.
Before she can react her sternum is cracked open.
The last thing she sees in glimpses is Silk, now bound in wood. Her face remains empty as the heart of the roots implants itself within her.
...Why is it different...
...We were dancing...
...Lace...