Chapter Text
Mary didn’t know how long she would have gone on, completely unaware of the slowly growing tensions in the kingdom, if it hadn’t been for the bar fight.
Mary, who had been locked up in the White Palace and terrified of being seen had spent most of her time in Hallownest, tucked away from the world.
And now, she spent most of her days exploring every nook and cranny of the kingdom.
She had made it a personal goal to check out every single shop in the City of Tears and eat at every restaurant and food stall in the entirety of Hallownest.
It had been a bit hit or miss flavor wise, but there was this one little bar at the edge of the city that had somehow managed to make something like a scotch egg, and Mary had become a regular.
The bar didn’t actually have any walls, only a ceiling and a door. The various overlapping awnings and slanted roofs of the surrounding taller buildings all funneled the water together and dumped it onto this one area, creating a curtain of water that served as the walls.
It was a bit loud, but it was actually quieter inside of the odd structure than outside of it.
Well, in the sense that there was less of a roar from the falling water. The patrons for this particular place were a rowdy bunch and could shout over what noise there was.
The patrons of this place were mostly the carnivorous in the bugs in the City of Tears. That meant that they were on the larger side with more natural weapons on their bodies.
This also meant that they were a bit weaker to alcohol than a herbivorous bug, and got louder and cruder as the drinks kept flowing.
Mary still remembered the song that a patron had being singing off key when she first found this place.
It had been about a pretty mantis lady who ate her lover during sex and then the bug came back from the dead to get a round two!
Needless to say, she stuck around to see if anyone else would be singing.
But while she had stayed for the singing, she had come for the food.
And that is what had brought her here once again.
Mary had to jump a little to climb up onto the seat at the counter, but once she was settled the bartender immediately slammed a tankard of her preferred poison in front of her. She immediately drained about a third of it and half collapsed onto the counter.
The bartender, a cave cricket, flicked one of their antenna’s at her.
Mary had eventually figured out that it was bug’s version of an eyebrow raise.
“One of the kid’s I watch recently got the sex talk. And so, she’s been telling all of her siblings all about it. But she forgot some things, added others in, and now the whole brood is convinced that sex is rubbing two butts together.”
The bartender, and the bugs around her, all had a good laugh at her misery. She didn’t have any dirty songs to share, or any raunchy jokes that would translate well, but who didn’t love funny stories about children?
“Smiles, those kids of yours get the wildest ideas! Almost as bad as me and my sisters when we first discovered how pretty some bugs could be.”
Mary turned toward the bug talking to her.
It was a one-armed bug nick-named Leftovers. They had been the one singing the song about the mantis.
Mary didn’t know the details behind their nickname, but she could give a pretty good guess.
“I can’t even imagine the trouble they’re going to be when they start to notice that bugs are pretty. All I can hope for is that their standards are going to be too high for any normal bug to ever meet.”
“Speaking of a bug of high standards, where is your gorgeous shadow?”
Mary turned her face fully toward Leftovers to let them know that she was giving them her full attention.
But, you know, in a sarcastic kind of way.
They grinned at her, full of mischief.
“Holly had some business that they couldn’t get away from, and wipe that smirk off your face, you better believe that they have high standards, much higher than you could ever reach.”
A bug on the other side of Mary let out a hearty laugh, “If ‘ole Leftovers can’t reach those high standards, then how did a tiny thing like you manage it.”
Mary snorted before taking another gulp of her drink. No matter what she told the bar-flies they never believed her when she said that her and “Holly” weren’t romantically entangled.
It was funny, because they were answering their own question.
‘How could someone like ‘Smiles’ catch someone like ‘Holly’?
Simple answer!
She didn’t.
Hollow loved her, there was no about in her mind about that, but it wasn’t romantic!
She was the only one they were close to that wasn’t related to them after all, it was obvious that she would be treated a bit differently.
It wasn’t their fault that they didn’t know what their affection looked like to outsiders.
Hollow just wasn’t socialized well, they needed to meet more bugs and have a variety of different relationships.
After all, they had grown up only seeing their parents interact and the affection of their little sister. They only knew how to interact with others that they cared for by either taking care of them like a child, or holding them like how they learned from their mother!
Always dragging the Pale King into her lap for a cuddle and a kiss.
So, it wasn’t like Mary was special or even had their romantic interest, it was all just one big miscommunication!
Mary was sure that when Hollow got some friends that they would broaden their love language and others would finally realize that it’s not that Hollow has romantic interest in Mary, but that this is just how they interact with others!
With lots of gentle touches, offers of food, and overprotective tendencies.
Mary was shaken out of her thoughts by the bartender setting a small plate of her preferred order in front of her.
It was about the size of her fist and deep fried. Mary had no idea what it was, and made it a point to never ever find out.
All that she cared about was that it satisfied her craving for fried food and sorta tasted like beef even if it had the consistency of a soft-boiled egg.
Mary tilted her mask up and ignored the way that Leftovers shifted a bit to get a better look at what little of her face they could see.
She knew what they were after.
Her jaw strained a little to get the top of the fried ball in her mouth, and then she chomped down. It was hot, and it burned her mouth a little bit, but there wasn’t any time to stop and let it cool. These things tasted best hot and fresh!
Her teeth broke through the crunchy covering and she had to start sucking hard to keep all of the juices that were released with her bite from running down her hands.
Eating these things were noisy and messy affairs. It was a food that would have never shown up on the Pale King’s dinner table, but god, they were so delicious!
Mary finally managed to get the juices inside of the ball to a level where they wouldn’t dribble out, and took a moment to get a breath in.
“Oh wow. No matter how many times I see it, it’s always amazing.”
Leftovers had gotten closer as she had been eating, and without Hollow here to take up the seat next to her, they were getting an unobstructed view of her messy eating.
Mary tossed them a glare through the smile of her mask. Whether or not they saw it didn’t matter, because Leftovers simply didn’t care.
The bug had some sort of thing for teeth and eating.
Mary had been convinced that it was some kind of fetish, but Hollow had assured her that Leftovers wasn’t putting out any pheromones while they watched her.
They just . . . really really REALLY liked watching her eat.
Mary was honestly dreading the day that they offered her a bite of them, just so that they could feel her teeth punch through their carapace.
Mary very purposely turned her attention from Leftovers and asked the bartender, “So what’s the news on the streets?” before slurping up more of her fried egg thing.
That was the other reason that Mary came to this bar.
News filtered through the palace retainers and her assistants, but they all seemed to sanitize it for her. Her image of the storyteller making them all a bit uncomfortable to tell to her about what she actually wanted to hear. They did was tell her about the important things going on in the tunnels, but sometimes she wanted something a bit more . . . trashy.
“The Faight sisters are all fighting over the same suitor.”
“Mmmmhm!?”
“Apparently he wasn’t able to tell the difference between the three of them, and so was accidentally courting them all when really he had been aiming for the oldest one named Karat.”
“Mmmm.”
“The other two sisters knew this, and just pretended to be her.”
Ohhh, spicy!
Mary continued to eat while listening to the most recent dirt picked up from the streets. She had no idea who these people were, but the gossip was still super enjoyable.
Mary was just licking her fingers clean, learning about how there was some kind of marrying boon going on in the Gruz raising villages, and how the newlyweds all were visiting the City of Tears, when there was a crash and raised voices behind her.
Mary nearly fell off her stool when she spun around to see what was happening. It looked like a disagreement between a pair of older bugs that had turned a bit physical.
The bugs were the same species, a beetle looking type with a horn on their faces, but they didn’t tweak Mary as family. They were right up in each other’s business, with the table that had been between them turned over onto the floor. They were still yelling at each other, but Mary couldn’t make out their words.
Mary had a wild moment of regret that she had come here without Hollow, how she might be in danger since she was alone, how she was so foolish to have ever left their side.
But then the bartender unfolded like a pop-up tent and stepped over the bar and half-way across the room to place their hands on the two fighting bugs, and shoved them hard enough to knock them off of their feet and through the wall made of water.
Mary was pressed into the bar in shock. Her eyes followed the bartender as he retracted his outrageously long legs and arms back to his body and settled himself to stand once more behind the bar.
She had known that he was some kind of cricket, but she didn’t know that he had literal mile long legs. She had thought the things behind him were some kind of wings! Not his legs! Fuck!
Mary took a deep breath, and very purposely pulled her mask all the way back to position. When she was looking through the eye holes and not the smile, she turned all the way back around and tried her best to casually speak to the bartender who now spooked her the fuck out.
“Soooo, what was that about you think?”
What she was told, what the bartender suspected, what trends they had seen, their own trouble at getting supplies, made Mary forget her minor spooking and began to get concerned.
Hallownest is a kingdom buried in dirt. In history.
In bodies.
When Mary had walked the tunnels, first in fear, and then again with confidence, she had always found them to seem empty.
A million branching paths, that in the beginning had been a blessing and a curse. A hiding spot always within sprinting distance, but at the same time, an endless maze that she had never truly escaped.
She had originally just thought that was the way the kingdom was. Long empty tunnels that connected the small bustling hubs of activity.
Imagine her surprise when she learned otherwise.
“Wait, Hallownest is a TRADE kingdom??!”
The Pale King gave a halfhearted hiss. He was face down on his desk with a loose grip on a goblet that was only just up right enough to not pour its contents on the ground.
It was the Pale King’s day off.
Ok, no it wasn’t. It was the night before his day off, but Mary was certain that the clock had turned over to the next day by now. Judging by how the bottle of mead she had brought with her to grease the Pale King’s closed mouth was nearly empty now.
For all that he was a god of light and knowledge, who was once a giant Wyrm that struck fear into all that was beheld him, the Pale King was hilariously weak to alcohol.
All of his great magical power and godly standing not helping him at all when his actual body was pretty small. Well, the parts that were squishy were small, he had lots of legs and large wings, but those don’t do you any good when you’re drinking.
Whatever, the Pale King was a cheap date, and he was two goblets in and working on a third. Added to the fact that it was nearly assured that he hadn’t eaten in hours? The Pale King was fast approaching wasted.
“How is Hallownest a trade kingdom?! It’s located in a cave in the middle of a wasteland!”
It had been more than half a bug year since the last of the bodies that had been infected had been buried, and Mary had been relaxing.
She had had her one grand adventure of her lifetime, fighting a damned GOD, and she had figured that she could enjoy her pampered and slow life epilogue now. Just waste the days away with adorable children and public storytelling for the hell of it.
But with how often Mary left White Palace, but she had finally noticed the odd tension in some of the populace.
Well, she had noticed after it had been pointed out to her by the bartender.
The older bugs had seemed pensive when they would look at the crowds, but the younger bugs were just as carefree and joyful as always.
Mary had finally picked up on how tense the Pale King had been getting. How the White Lady’s eyes had been creased in those few moments before she would see who had come to visit her and then had her head emptied of everything but her children.
Hell, even Herrah in the times that Mary would run into her, would be doing a spider’s version of pacing. Knotting silk into webs any time she had to wait for more than a moment.
Mary hadn’t wanted to wait for the tension to come to a head, so she had taken matters into her own hands and shown up in the Pale King’s office after hours with a bottle of mead and a demand to know what was going on.
The Pale King had finally given in and told her that there should have been more travelers by now, and their absence was being felt keenly by the bugs whose livelihoods relied on the flow of goods and bugs through the kingdom.
“Hallownest is in the center of a number of villages and kingdoms. It is faster to travel halfway through a wasteland and make a single stop, than to go around a lush rim and make numerous stops. The wasteland is vast enough to make it dangerous not to stop in Hallownest for the traders, and often they could acquire what they needed in the kingdom from other traders who had similar ideas. With the end of the infection, the roads should have been flush with traders who could finally make the trip down the roads without fear of infection.”
The Pale King raised his head just enough to take another swallow from his goblet, “But there has been only the barest trickle, and only from travelers and thrill seekers, not traders.”
Mary took a sip of her own cup to buy her a moment, and hesitantly asked the most important question.
“Is the Kingdom in danger?”
The Pale King looked up from where he had been blearily gazing into his cup, and blinked for a moment before getting his thoughts in order.
“Not- not yet. But we need more meat. Deepnest and the Mantis Tribe’s have been having to buy more food from the Gruz raisers. That’s bad. Those tribes’ are usually self-sufficient and only buy food as special occasions or just because. But the infection heavily impacted the prey in the kingdoms.”
Another deep swallow, the Pale King’s mouth letting a dribble of mead trail down his neck and stain his white collar. He pulled back to stare at the empty cup before turning his fuzzy gaze back to Mary.
“It hadn’t been bad during the infection, not when the population was shrinking from the deaths. But now that they’re putting on egg weight, they need more food. But they need to let the prey that survived the infection recover or else they will over hunt and starve in the long term. But, Hallownest doesn’t farm enough Gruz to support two carnivorous villages. Especially not in a breeding boom.”
The Pale King dropped his goblet to his desk, the empty thing rolling until it fell to the floor. But the drunk Pale King ignored it as he reached for the bottle on the corner of his desk. Half crawling on to the large desk, his long body curling around the chair he had been sitting on in order to stay up right. When he did manage to reach it, he rolled onto his back and just stayed there, sprawled over the stone tablets and silk scrolls as he slammed the last of the mead, and let the bottle dangle from his fingers.
“It’s not bad yet, no one’s starving. But the ones who supply meat and hunt for a living have noticed how lean it is. But we need that trade or else even more bugs will leave Hallownest or the carnivorous bugs will have no choice but to break the laws of Hallownest and eat a sentient bug.”
The Pale King blearily pointed at Mary, the bottle in his hand swinging around with the motion, “We can’t recover from that. Hallownest doesn’t allow the eating of sentients. That’s too- too- not good. Very not good. No eating peoples.”
Oop, the alcohol had finally hit the Pale King’s ability to speak.
That means it was time to drag the pickled bug to the White Lady, or else he’d start to cry about how beautiful his wife and children were.
Well, he would still cry, but at least the White Lady thought it was adorable and not vaguely uncomfortable like Mary did.
Mary finished her own cup and wondered over to the sprawled bug.
It would take a bit of doing to make him release the chair, but despite his length, he wasn’t too heavy.
Mary wobbled a bit as she kneeled on the ground to begin prying his little feet out of where they had dug into the chair.
As the one who got him this drunk, it was her responsibility to get him to bed.
Mary cast a glance at the Pale King who was mumbling into the neck of the bottle, clutching it to his body as he shook his head back and forth. His horns had knocked a lot of his stuff to the floor and his wings flapped weakly from where they were pinned under his own body.
. . . alright, maybe she’ll need to bring his wife to him instead of the other way around.
They next work ‘day’ began on a bit of a sour note. With Mary giving the Pale King a dirty look as she stood before all of the information about the trade that Hallownest once partook of.
“These haven’t been updated in a very long time.”
“. . .”
“These are mentioning bugs that were dead before the infection.”
“. . .”
“This one is calling the bugs from outside of the kingdom, ‘godless heathens that would not know intelligence if it bit them’.”
“. . . that particular bug was expelled from his post as a trade officer when his less than savory views about non-native bugs came to light.”
“And then you never assigned another bug the job and tried to do it yourself, didn’t you?”
“. . .”
Mary collapsed into the specially made padded chair that lived in the Pale King’s office just for her. She tilted her head toward the ceiling as she began to truly grasp the situation.
“So, we don’t have any up-to-date information about the surrounding lands and kingdoms, because all of the bugs who would have that information all left during the early parts of the infection, and then just never came back.”
The Pale King’s wings shuddered and resettled on his back, “It’s a bit worse than that. The infection has been going on for a long enough time that at least one generation of bugs have lived and died outside of the kingdom. Cave bugs have always had longer life spans, and being in such a soul rich environment with so few predators and vast food resources have extended it a large amount.”
The Pale King seemed to be hurt by the next words that he said, “It is possible that in places with less long-lived species, or without a written language, that Hallownest has been turned into a legend, or forgotten in its entirety.”
Mary rubbed her face, “So we’re probably not getting any traders because the smaller areas don’t think we really exist, and the surrounding kingdoms have changed their trade routes and don’t want to gamble on a still possibly infected kingdom.”
Mary knew that if given enough time, that the curious would find them, the legend of the ‘eternal kingdom’ hidden in the howling wastes would surely bring adventure seekers, and then having those same people return with tales of a thriving kingdom would surely bring in the more cautious.
But they didn’t have years, they had a year, maybe, before the food supplies for the carnivorous insects would all disappear. And in order for them to recover faster, food had to be acquired as soon as possible.
Hallownest needed that trade, or the population would shrink even farther. Either through migration, starvation, or the eating of sentients.
Mary chewed on her lip as her mind sorted through the options available.
“Can we send our own bugs to the kingdoms for trade?”
The Pale King shook his head, even as he explained his reasoning, “Not for the first trip. It’s likely that the towns have changed or that what they are willing to trade has changed. But the kingdom has no long-distance caravans, nor anyone who remembers how to make them. And the largest problem is that there are no bugs, sentient or otherwise, that can pull such things left in the kingdom. Not for the distances required.”
So that was the main problem. Hallownest was stuck in the middle of nowhere, because everyone that could leave already did so and took all of their pack animals with them.
“But we can still get there right? We know their general areas, and what they might have, right?”
“Yes. It is unlikely that harvests and local wildlife would change in a single lifetime.”
Mary nodded her head, a plan slowly coming together in her head.
“Were there god rulers in the kingdoms or villages?”
The Pale King blinked at Mary, seemingly thrown at her new line of questions.
“Ah, no. There are gods of course, but very few beings of my status interact with their worshipers so closely. I obviously do not know the current rulers, but I doubt that another of my kind had a change of heart. Though it has been a long time to mortals, it has been significantly less to a god.”
Mary picked up her notes once more, scratching her thoughts into the clay as she spoke.
“Ok, so we are dealing with regular run-of-the-mill bugs, no gods. So that means that if a god king from a legendary city hidden out in the wastes sent an invitation for some kind of event, implied that all the other kingdoms were coming, and gave them some fancy time keeping device so that they would show up on time, it might draw them in?”
The Pale King froze for a few of Mary’s heartbeats before diving for the silk map that had been copied off of the giant tablet that was hidden away in some other part of the palace, gigantic and nearly immobile.
The Pale King unspooled the map onto the floor and began to crawl all over it. His wings were perked up and buzzing in excitement as his many legs stamped all over the map to keep it down.
“It will be difficult to get the timing right. The last know destinations for these kingdoms are unlikely to have changed, but if Hallownest can nearly disappear then so can others. Some of the villages must have either disappeared or risen to cities themselves.”
Mary joined the Pale King on the floor, as she tried to make sense of the artistic map. “It might be better to send out more messengers then we think we will need, or at least have them bring extra clock gifts in case there are prominent places that you don’t remember or know about.”
“Each messenger will need a guard detail of course, but how many is too many?
“The exact wording of the letters will have to be a bit vague. Names change all the time, and it would look bad for you to have their names be wrong. Maybe we shouldn’t write an individual letter for them at all and just have the messengers memorize a speech and add in details as need be?”
The brainstorming session lasted for hours and the Pale King had summons sent out for Lurien and Monomon. The Deepnest queen was invited as well, and after some deliberation, an invitation was sent to the Mantis tribe and the Hive, though the Pale King knew that if anyone showed up, it wouldn’t be the rulers but a representative.
But a plan was forming.
The Kingdom of Hallownest would make a bluff about their power and prestige and draw attention to themselves by all of the surrounding bugs all at once.
Surely there could be no draw-backs what so ever.
It was almost as if Mary had forgotten that she lived in a bug infested fairy tale. The moment she had thought that everything would be fine, of course everything began to crumble out from beneath her.
Mary had her elbows on the table and her head in her hands as bugs yelled around her.
Mary had been ‘chosen’ to preside over the initial meeting of the representatives of the kingdom. The group was supposed to be discussing what they wished to trade and show so that there wouldn’t be too many similar offers.
The representatives of the various clans that made up Hallownest, and the nearby kingdom of bee’s had all devolved into senseless shouting and banging on the table that had formerly had neat stacks of chiseled stone that explained the plan, but were now half scattered on the floor.
How, you may ask, had everything gone to shit?
Well, it turns out that there was a semi-illegal fighting ring literally right above and to the side of Hallownest that had a high enough population of bugs that they demanded to be included in the meeting. A meeting that they shouldn’t have known about, but had shown up on time to anyway.
And now everyone was fighting about what qualified as being a part of the kingdom of Hallownest.
The representative from Deepnest of course denied being under the Pale King’s rule even if they acknowledged that their people depended on the kingdom for continued survival.
The mantis tribe would not say they were a part of Hallownest even if you leveled a knife to their eye.
The Greenpath bugs worshiped Unn and no other, though they might admit to casting a few prayers to the White Lady every now and then.
The Bees were offended at the mere idea of being under the control of someone who was not their queen.
And the rest of the bugs from Hallownest were offended that anyone wouldn’t jump at the chance to live under the Pale King.
The meeting had gotten 100% off track, and now the air was filled with buzzing threat displays and shouting.
Hollow patted her on the back, trying to comfort her from where they stood behind her.
Mary just sunk her masked face deeper into her hands.
She had been forced to put on her “Storyteller” face this morning, all golden details and white cloaks. She looked grand and powerful, and she was desperately wishing she could have worn the green one instead. It’s thicker sleeves would have given her more cushion to bury her face in and block out the chaos around her.
To shield herself from all of this stupidity.
Every single adult here had forgotten that the goal was to show the visitors a united front and at the very least pretend that this little forgotten corner of the world was worth getting in touch with. That we had things to trade and needs to satiate.
That the Eternal Kingdom of Hallownest was worth doing business with.
No one was going to want to make the trip out here to trade with a bunch of damned arguing children.
Mary lifted her head from her hands.
Sha had had enough.
Mary stood from her seat, nearly knocking the thing over and making Hollow step to the side.
She took a deep breath, inflating her chest before yelling as loud as she could, “BE QUIET.”
By virtue of having a pair of lungs, Mary easily out shouted the others, startling all of them into silence. Mary took the moment to cough a bit, her shout having hurt her throat some.
“You- cough, cough- have, all seem to forgotten what we are here to do. We are not here to make divides and draw lines between us. Ignore your hurt feelings and your old feuds. We are here to figure out how to show the entire world outside of our tunnels, that we are a strong united front.”
Mary stood straight and proud at the head of the long table, staring down every single one of the bugs in front of her.
“Even if it is a lie, we are all here to make it a convincing one. So, stop trying to reopen your old wounds and focus. How are we, the denizens in the tunnels, going to convince the bugs outside that we are a place they want to be? What do we have to offer that will convince them to come all the way here?”
There was a moment of silence as the bugs at the table realized that she wasn’t asking a rhetorical question, and actually wanted some answers.
The weaver at the table, of course, knew exactly what her people could offer.
“Silk and cloth. Deepnest is surely the only place with a high enough population of spiders that can afford to sell instead of spin webs.”
Mary nodded, agreeing with her words. “Yes, it is unlikely that there is another gathering of spiders as large as Deepnest, nor a group with such friendly relations.”
Then Mary ripped the rug out from under the preening spider. “So, it is unlikely that they will want your silk, having never had the option for it before.”
The spider jolted in surprise.
“We don’t know anything about these bugs. It’s possible, and likely even, that they have never seen woven cloth or have any idea for what they might use spider silk for. It would most likely be in your best interests to not try and sell raw materials, but small premade goods. Bows, sashes, cloaks, things that they can see and buy. Give them time to think of ideas, and of course offer the unwoven thread and bolts of cloth. But we don’t know what they will want, so we must cast our net wide.”
Mary left the spider to her thinking and pointed at the one of the Bee Delegates at the table. They all looked exactly the same, but the one that had been doing all of the talking (and yelling) had been wearing a hat that set it apart from the rest.
And now Mary made demands of it.
“You. What can the Hive offer to the bugs from beyond Hallownest?”
The Bee seemed to fluff up like an insulted cat, before speaking with an odd humming accent. Like their entire throat was vibrating like a cat’s purr around every word.
“The Hive can offer wax, honey and mead to the visitors. But this one assumes that more must be created?”
Mary nodded, her eyes flicking from the weaver to the bees.
Whenever anyone mentioned bees wax, candles always came to mind. Not to mention . . .
“You have healthy relations with Deepnest, yes? These bugs from the outside will most likely not be from places that have such a thriving Luma Fly population. Candles would be an idea with merit, a joint venture for you both. And wax, when applied to fabric can make it impermeable to water. Perhaps these bugs from the outside will want such fabric? If nothing else, the citizens from City of Tears would buy it.”
The Bees turned toward the weaver, their antenna waving in her direction as Mary continued down the table, pointing at bugs, demanding that they tell her their offers, and her critiquing or offering join ventures.
But then she came to the Mantis Tribe and the ‘Fools’ from the coliseum.
Mary walked heavily behind the gathered bugs, dramatics coming to her naturally as she left her seat of honor at the head of the table. Her new woven sandals making a loud “slap-slap” noise as she purposely walked to the opposite end of the table to where the both of them had been sat together, grouping the most battle hungry bugs together.
Perhaps in the vain hope that if they decided to attack, that they would go after each other first before turning one the rest of the table. She stopped behind the short bug who had proclaimed himself a fool, making him twist to look at her.
“What . . . can you offer?”
The ‘Fool’s’ representative spoke up immediately. “Battle! We can show these outsiders bloodshed and revelry like no other! The stands will shake with the cheers of victory and the caves will rattle with the shrieks of laughter at the failure of the weak.”
Mary stared in astonishment at the short little bug who had just preached at her.
“You are . . . an idiot.”
“No? I’m a Fool.”
Oh my god.
“No. No, you cannot offer that. We are not attempting to scare the new comers, nor do we wish to invite the types of bugs who are planning to make a one-way trip!”
Mary rubbed her masked face, and with a tone of voice of someone who knew they were asking for the impossible, “Can you offer anything else?”
There was some bluster, but the Fool had to eventually admit that he would need time to think on this before offering something else.
Mary sighed, there was no god to save her from idiots, despite how many roamed around these tunnels.
“What about you? What can the Mantis Tribe offer?”
The mantis, Ze’mer’s lover it looked like, tucked her neck a bit closer to her body.
Mary knew good and well that the Mantis Tribe was a group that made their money through the bartering of mushrooms, and being the scariest motherfuckers above Deepnest.
They didn’t really ‘make’ things, and Mary had just shot down the Fool’s about fighting. The poor girl had no idea what her people could offer besides the obvious, and probably was regretting using this as an excuse to visit her lover.
Mary leaned on the table, invading the Mantis’s personal space as she looked the girl over, showing her back to the fool. But not even a ‘Fool’ would attack the Storyteller in front of the Hollow Knight, child of the Pale King.
What did Mary remember about the Mantis? They would fight everything and each other, but unlike the Fools, their fights had more purpose than just glory and money.
They had a hierarchy, didn’t they? A hierarchy with three points at the top.
The perfectly matched sisters, who could no longer even land blows on each other unless one of them comes in with a handicap.
. . . a perfect fight could look like a show. . .
“Would your Aunt’s be willing to do a dominance fight outside of their arena?”
The girl startled, her wings chittering for a moment before smoothing down once more. When she spoke, she still had that quiet dignity that all female mantis seemed to have.
The men usually sounded liked excitable golden retrievers. Mary had no idea what the difference in speech was all about, but it confused her to this day.
“I will have to ask them, but why... ?”
“There is more to attracting visitors than just trade. We have goods, but perhaps we can also barter services and events? A fight between the three heads of the mantis tribe is an event that you might be accustomed to, but for any bug outside of your borders? It would be a sight that a bug would be willing to pay to see.”
The Fool squawked in outrage. “The Mantis Tribe can fight but we cannot!? This is outrageous- “
It was no trouble at all for Mary, perhaps the loudest creature in Hallownest, to raise her voice above the Fool’s.
“The Mantis Tribe is practiced at fighting WITHOUT the loser being killed. If you can assure me that every bug who enters your arena walks out of it alive, then by all means you may also present a fight for the visitors.”
Mary turned fully toward the Fool and leaned toward him, making him lean backwards in startled response, “Can you assure me of such a thing, Fool?”
He could not, and whether his fear was for the Storyteller in his face or for the Void creature that had boxed them all in to the table with their long arms no one could say.
But the Fools of the Coliseum were quiet for the rest of the meeting.
Mary doubted that they would force their way into the next meeting.
“Hollow. Hollow- why? Are the bugs of Hallownest? Like this? Surely they couldn’t have become like this on purpose.”
Mary was face down in Hollow’s lap, her body splayed across the ground of the Queen’s Conservatory as she whined. Her mask had been discarded to the side, the sad eyes and gold detailing getting dirty on the ground.
Mary couldn’t be bothered to be the Storyteller at the moment, and Hollow would never pass up a chance to have her bare-faced.
Hollow just gently rubbed her back as she continued to complain into their lap, enjoying the feel of her body heat sinking into their legs and hand.
Mary the Storyteller would now only rarely touch them so freely. So, any time that she was willing to return to the times when she treated them like a piece of interactive furniture was to be cherished.
“Oh my god, why the hell are they all so up in arms about like where they live!? The Pale King knows that his laws aren’t respected in Deepnest and the Hive! He knows this, and has never tried to make an issue of it, because the laws that are there are perfectly decent!”
Hollow continued to rub Mary’s back as she voiced her complaints into their legs, but they kept a keen eye on their siblings who had heard Mary’s voice and were now slowly approaching from across the grass.
Ghost and Vlad split apart and once they were both coming at Hollow from two wide angles, they rushed across the grass as fast as they could. Bull rushing their larger sibling like their lives depended on it.
It was simple enough to nab each little annoyance by their legs in a single hand, the little voidlings having forgotten or not taken in account the difference in speed at which they could run.
Vlad arrived too early, and Ghost too late.
“And then there were those damned Fools! Like, what the hell is up with their name!? Like, yeah, I can get behind having the name be, like, an ironic thing? But he was so damn proud of being a fool! He corrected me when I called him an idiot! . . . . does that mean that there’s a fucking group of bugs called THE IDIOTS?!”
Hollow patted Mary’s back consolingly with their free hand as they used one of their tentacles to smoothly catch Sprout from where they had been attempting to drop on them from above.
Unlike with the other two, Sprout was immediately and without remorse tossed away.
Sprout, for all that they were loath to give up their misbegotten spoils, was entirely willing to disgorge an avalanche of stolen items onto anyone who was foolish enough to hold them when they did not wish to be.
The dark little shape of Sprout’s body flew through the air to land where Hollow knew a clear area was. Far enough away for Mary not to hear the impact, but close enough to make sure they landed safely.
Hollow stroked long firm stripes down Mary’s back as she continued to bemoan the stupidity and circular thinking of the bugs she was working with. About how hard it was to make them think up things themselves, instead of feeding them all of the answers. About how their Father had spoiled his subjects for so long that barely any of them had an original thought that wasn’t how to cause trouble.
Hollow only half listened, spreading their senses wide as they tried to pin down the position of their sneakiest sibling.
This two-pronged attack was a better plan then the last time his siblings had attempted to interrupt their time with Mary. Even with the stumbles in the timing, it meant that they had all agreed to work together, and as much as he loved his siblings, only one of them had shown any proficiently at planning ahead.
There!
Curly stood a distance away, in the shade of a large leaf, staring at them.
The two creatures of void watched each other, Hollow tensely waiting for whatever Curly had planned, and Curly smugly watching their plan fall into place.
Hollow tracked the slow movement of Curly’s hand as they reached inside of their cloak and pulled out a small, shiny bell.
If Hollow’s eyes could have widened, they would have.
Curly shook the bell, and the sharp sound of metal against metal rang though the garden.
“-what? Is that-? Curly! Curly sweetheart what are you doing over there? Come here.” Mary propped herself into a more sensible position in Hollow’s lap and patted her own thighs in invitation to the little voidling.
The small bug quickly tucked the bell back inside of their own void and then seemed to nearly strut toward their sibling and their favorite person. Keeping smug eye contact with their larger sibling the entire time.
Hollow was unable to glare, but between the two creatures of void, the intent in their empty gaze came across clearly.
Curly carefully settled into the seat of honor in Mary’s lap, and snuggled their face into her soft stomach.
Mary’s hands began to stoke over their back as she leaned into Hollow’s one armed embrace and sighed heavily.
Just when she thought things were calming down, just when she had begun to get a new routine! A new obstacle appeared in her life.
Mary closed her eyes and focused on the two cool bodies that had her surrounded. She relaxed fully in the hold of the voidling that was gently rubbing at her neck and shoulder, and gently squeezed the voidling that was tucked into her lap.
Hollow’s velvety palms soothed her knotted muscles, and Curly’s gentle kneading of their slowly uncoiling tentacles into her thighs and stomach just made her relax.
Mary snickered.
Here she is! A human in an insect kingdom, with two different manifestations of death and nothingness surrounding her, and not only is it her happy place, but she could see her doing this every day for the rest of her life, and being completely content with it.
Mary tilted her head up and realized that she was smiling, her lips curling up as she slowly opened her eyes, knowing that Hollow would be watching her.
As their gazes met, Mary’s smile widened. Her teeth peeking through her lips as a slow and gentle warmth filled her chest and crawled up her throat.
“I had been hoping that we could spend the rest of our days like this, you know? Quiet, comfortable, just secure in your arms with your family close at hand. Me whining about minor inconveniences, and you just listening and soothing me like it was any kind of hardship at all.”
Mary closed her eyes again and tucked her face deeper into the soft parts of Hollow’s chest, the velvet of the void rubbing her cheek while the sliding jointed parts of their carapace gently scrapped at her chin. She huffed another sigh.
“But as nice as that sounds, I bet it would get boring eventually. Better I suppose, to have an upset now then later on when we get out of practice on how to deal with them.”
Hollow’s hand found its way to Mary’s face and gently stroked the edges of her smile, their fingertips lingering on her lips and the corner of her eye.
They gently tapped her temple twice.
“No? You think you wouldn’t get bored of this eventually?” Mary cracked the open the eye that Hollow’s fingers were near, planning to say more about how tiring peace could be, but was distracted by a slight motion to the side.
She turned her head and paused.
“Hollow. Why are you dangling your siblings upside down by their legs?”
Hollow’s fingers froze in the process of tracing her hairline.
Ghost and Vlad waved at her from their predicament, their cloaks fluttering around their heads as they were held aloft.
Mary sat up, pulling away from Hollow’s hand and twisted in their lap.
Curly untucked their face from her stomach in order to get a better view of the show about to take place. It never got old, seeing their largest sibling get scolded by the soft and warm Mary for being greedy for her time and touch.
“Hollow! We’ve talked about this! You can’t just keep- No! Don’t throw them! I’ve already seen- HOLLOW! I don’t care if they think it’s fun! You can’t keep tossing your siblings away whenever you want to keep me all to yourself!”