Lace (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
threadsbare) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mistymansion2025-09-22 08:38 pm
threadsbare) wrote in mistymansion2025-09-22 08:38 pm
weaver queen au
Terrible things are behind this cut CWs will be added as needed.
CW: baseline toxic codependent relationship, dehumanization, suicidal ideation
[Why was she still alive?
Lace felt cheated. It had been the one thing to console her after she had lost yet again to the spider. Finally, finally there would be an end to all this. Her Mother would get everything she ever wanted, and the temporary replacements that were her and Phantom would be gone and dealt with. She had fallen unconscious with envy, resentment, anguish but most of all relief in her heart.
So why was it that she was still alive? Could she not at last be given reprieve?
The sounds of battle had drawn her upward to her Mother's waking place and she had watched from a distance as the battle went on. Hah. The spider still thought she could do it. At this point Lace supposes she shouldn't be surprised. Where did this confidence come from? Was it because she too carried pale blood? Yet she was only half of one and so much younger than her Mother. It would have been so much easier if she just caved in. One way or another, her Mother always got her way.
And yet...
And yet...
The spider was winning. Lace could not believe her eyes. She was actually winning.
The silk construct clutched her pin and for a moment she almost went in there to join the fray and protect her mother on instinct but then she stopped in her tracks, and fell back to the shadows. No. This was what Grand Mother Silk deserved. This was what she deserved after everything she had done to her, done to Phantom.
Lace stayed her blade and there came the final blow.
Her Mother's scream as she collapsed rattled her but still she stayed, but as she watched it was now horror that kept her in place as she watched Silk be devoured, her beautiful form being absorbed by the spider until her body came apart completely, and all that was left was the metal of her legs, and the bracers she once wore.
For all the hatred and resentment she had harbored for her mother, hearing those agonized screams as she withered away to nothing sickened her to her core. The spider was a beast of that there was no doubt, and as Lace looked up at the cocoon that looked so much like the one that had been her mother's bed, she wondered what sort of Queen the Weaver would be.
One Lace wanted nothing to with.
What was left to her now? Only one person, and Lace feared that they too were already gone. A journey to the Exhaust Organ confirmed this fear, and Lace almost threw herself to the muckmaggots then and there. Yet even now such a death was abhorrent to her and she eventually made her way back up to the Cradle. As she did she passed many pilgrims and she had to wonder: did they have any idea of what was coming? Would their lives become better or worse from here on out? Considering what she had seen of the spider during her ascent...it seemed she would be benevolent. Perhaps it was unfair to take into consideration what she had witnessed, given that it was a battle of dominance between two deities.
Hornet had always been kind--if anything, in Lace's opinion, overly so towards the people she encountered.
She had been kind to her, which was the most ridiculous thing.
Yet she still could not help but have doubts. She supposes she always would with those of the higher caste.
She didn't know why she suddenly cared about the fate of Pharloom's citizenry, she never had before but it didn't take longer for her to come to the conclusion.
It was because this was all her fault.
If she had just accepted her fate and not freed the spider from her enchanted cage both her Mother and Phantom would still be alive. That had been an agonizing realization to come upon and so many what ifs began to fill her mind. What ifs that were now an impossibility because of what she had done.
Once more she reached that platform where the spider's cocoon hovered and she sat down, pin across her lap. Lace had no illusions about how this would go. She had never bested Hornet when she was a half breed, there was no way she would be able to do so when she was reborn.
That was fine. She will have her death and it will come as any knight's should---in battle.]
CW: baseline toxic codependent relationship, dehumanization, suicidal ideation
[Why was she still alive?
Lace felt cheated. It had been the one thing to console her after she had lost yet again to the spider. Finally, finally there would be an end to all this. Her Mother would get everything she ever wanted, and the temporary replacements that were her and Phantom would be gone and dealt with. She had fallen unconscious with envy, resentment, anguish but most of all relief in her heart.
So why was it that she was still alive? Could she not at last be given reprieve?
The sounds of battle had drawn her upward to her Mother's waking place and she had watched from a distance as the battle went on. Hah. The spider still thought she could do it. At this point Lace supposes she shouldn't be surprised. Where did this confidence come from? Was it because she too carried pale blood? Yet she was only half of one and so much younger than her Mother. It would have been so much easier if she just caved in. One way or another, her Mother always got her way.
And yet...
And yet...
The spider was winning. Lace could not believe her eyes. She was actually winning.
The silk construct clutched her pin and for a moment she almost went in there to join the fray and protect her mother on instinct but then she stopped in her tracks, and fell back to the shadows. No. This was what Grand Mother Silk deserved. This was what she deserved after everything she had done to her, done to Phantom.
Lace stayed her blade and there came the final blow.
Her Mother's scream as she collapsed rattled her but still she stayed, but as she watched it was now horror that kept her in place as she watched Silk be devoured, her beautiful form being absorbed by the spider until her body came apart completely, and all that was left was the metal of her legs, and the bracers she once wore.
For all the hatred and resentment she had harbored for her mother, hearing those agonized screams as she withered away to nothing sickened her to her core. The spider was a beast of that there was no doubt, and as Lace looked up at the cocoon that looked so much like the one that had been her mother's bed, she wondered what sort of Queen the Weaver would be.
One Lace wanted nothing to with.
What was left to her now? Only one person, and Lace feared that they too were already gone. A journey to the Exhaust Organ confirmed this fear, and Lace almost threw herself to the muckmaggots then and there. Yet even now such a death was abhorrent to her and she eventually made her way back up to the Cradle. As she did she passed many pilgrims and she had to wonder: did they have any idea of what was coming? Would their lives become better or worse from here on out? Considering what she had seen of the spider during her ascent...it seemed she would be benevolent. Perhaps it was unfair to take into consideration what she had witnessed, given that it was a battle of dominance between two deities.
Hornet had always been kind--if anything, in Lace's opinion, overly so towards the people she encountered.
She had been kind to her, which was the most ridiculous thing.
Yet she still could not help but have doubts. She supposes she always would with those of the higher caste.
She didn't know why she suddenly cared about the fate of Pharloom's citizenry, she never had before but it didn't take longer for her to come to the conclusion.
It was because this was all her fault.
If she had just accepted her fate and not freed the spider from her enchanted cage both her Mother and Phantom would still be alive. That had been an agonizing realization to come upon and so many what ifs began to fill her mind. What ifs that were now an impossibility because of what she had done.
Once more she reached that platform where the spider's cocoon hovered and she sat down, pin across her lap. Lace had no illusions about how this would go. She had never bested Hornet when she was a half breed, there was no way she would be able to do so when she was reborn.
That was fine. She will have her death and it will come as any knight's should---in battle.]
no subject
Eventually, she hatched.
She landed on that platform beneath her with a soft thud, curled up in her red cloak, tattered, her new limbs wrapped around herself.
So much power. Enough power to level this kingdom. Enough to take Hallownest with it. It soared and coursed through her veins, hot and alive. Was this how her father felt? How Grand Mother Silk felt? It was no wonder they had become so drunk and addled on their dominion.
She had spent centuries resisting this. Now she let it flood her with no hesitation and no protest.
Hornet sat up.
She sat in silence for a moment, thinking of how good it had felt to plunge her needle into Grand Mother Silk's face, to have her vengeance for how she had betrayed and lied to the Weavers, how she had thrown them in jails, how she had captured them, captured Hornet, forced her into that cage for day and night endless, then tried to make claim on her life, her silk.
Then she tossed her head back and let out an otherworldly scream, one that would be heard for miles and miles, the scream of a great Weaver, and she called all the spiderfolk and the Weavers and their spawn back to their ancestral home. They had always wanted of her a queen. Now she would be a queen. One of their own.
After the summoning scream had settled in the air she roamed her tongue around her mouth and felt her new, deadlier fangs and looked up and down and sideways with her new eyes. She could see everything. She had grown taller, though only slightly so. But most prominent was the silk. Her supply felt boundless and abundant.
Bit by bit, she would replace every last thread of Grand Mother Silk's silk with her own. This would be a Weaver home. A proper one.
She turned around.
Ah.
All of her eyes twinkled at once.
This little silk creature -- that had put her through so much irritation and annoyance -- was still here. Yes, she supposed Lace was. What would she tell her? She was spawn of that monarch and for that reason Hornet held some dislike of her, yet it would be a lie to say she had not grown fond of her as well. She was endearing. She was special.
...Yes, Hornet wanted to keep her around. Lace would be hers. She eyed the pin in her lap. ]
Do not make a move. You know how it will end if you attack me. You will stay here and be mine. I command it so.
no subject
It left her with plenty of time to think, and again and again she rolled over the events of everything that had happened. Doing so allowed doubts begin to creep in her, thinking that perhaps if her mother had been allowed to be awake, she and Phantom could have reasoned with her. Perhaps they could have had a real talk. Perhaps...they could have been a family.
Yet she let her anger and resentment fester and put the spider on the path to murdering both her mother and sibling. They were dead because of her. Phantom was dead because of her. Lace knew that much like herself they wanted an end to their miserable existence, but somehow it was hard to remember that in this moment.
She just thought on how she missed them so, and how she hadn't even been able to say goodbye.
That's when she heard the cocoon crack, and she thought with the faintest bit of happiness that soon, soon she would be able to see them soon. It was a short-lived happiness, as then came the derisive thought that neither of them had anything that would continue on beyond the abominations that were their bodies.
She would never be able to see them again.
Ha.
Lace watched tiredly as the spider descended and despite everything, thought how beautiful and majestic she looked. Truly something worthy of a Queen.
And then she screamed. The scream seemed to run through every single milimeter of all her threads. It froze her in place, radiating throughout her, within, surrounding her on all sides, and reverberating long after it was over. For the first time in as long as she could remember Lace felt fear. It was in that moment that she really comprehended what now stood in front of her and when Hornet turned, she remained frozen for a moment longer.
The words that rolled out of the spider's mouth were among the last she expected to hear. While anticlimatic, she would have expected her to snuff out life out immediately. That would have been preferable over....that. She intended to keep her alive? She intended to claim her? To keep her here? That more than anything brought Lace back to her senses. No. Absolutely not. She would not become shackled to this place. Not again. She would have her release and she would have it if she had to goad the weaver into killing her.]
..heehee. My oh my, little spider, only just reborn and already you wear your greed so plainly. You really are one of the higher caste.
[With some difficulty she stood up.
Her body still carried the injuries from their last battle, most notably the gnash that had bore her nature for all to see. On her chest, slightly to the left of her core is where Hornet's needle had pierced her body. The tear shown in her clothing and in the black threads the composed the outermost layer of her body. The white silk below could be seen all the way through her back where the needle had exited her body.
Yet that seemed not the only thing wrong with her body. She could only assume it was a result of her mother's death, but her body seemed to be withering at a much quicker rate than it once did. Her clothing, ironically, seemed in better shape than her body which was now frayed. Some of the white silk within her body even seemed to have a greyish tint to it. Lace had been worried that in the time it took the spider to hatch, she would have wasted away. Thankfully not.]
You are right. I have no illusions of how this will end. [She gave a mocking bow, only proper etiquette for a fencer]
But I would challenge you all the same.
no subject
Oh!
She stalked towards Lace on four limbs, taking note of her injuries. She had bested this silk girl several times now and now she had an even greater advantage, familiar with her fighting style and stronger than ever. Yet Lace would challenge her still, knowing her death would come?
What a brave and silly little creature Grand Mother Silk had made! She was both insulted and charmed. Even with more eyes and more limbs Hornet's expression was no easier to read. She looked just as pretty and just as majestic yet even more fierce, more frightening.
But there was something about her. Something that wasn't right.
Hornet was still there, inside this creature. She wished no needless cruelty on Pharloom's own, and it was clear she felt some element of affection for Lace, but something about it was warped.
She was Pale. Really, truly Pale. ]
I understand not why you draw your pin against me so. I have freed you from your mother. She is no more. By slaying me, you would only appease her once more, even in her death.
[ Did Lace crave death delivered by her claws?
After the kindness Hornet had shown her? After the chances she had given? After the encouragement?
Then she would not die.
This would be her penance. She would live and she would be Hornet's. Is this not what she deserved? After all the fussing and annoyance she and her family had put Hornet through? She wished to be with her mother and sibling in death and not with Hornet? Her display was shameful. ]
You attack me only because I wish to see you live. All of my kindness was lost on you.
[ Still on all fours, she took her needle. She licked her teeth. Hungry. ]
Your wastefulness displeases me greatly. This was a great shame.
[ And then she lunged. Her needle thrust towards the hole left in Lace's body with overwhelming speed and force. ]
no subject
Thank you. Finally.
While it was her end she wished for, Lace still intended to give it her all. Despite how unsettling the way Hornet focused on her was, she kept herself limber.
"You attack me only because I wish to see you live. All of my kindness was lost on you."
Irritation surges through her at this. The statement isn't exactly untrue, she strongly suspected Hornet would not grant her death if she simply asked for it, but to boil down everything to just that? She opens her mouth to respond but that's when Hornet lunges.
So fast! Lace had been anticipating the attack, ready to parry it, but it's so unbelievably fast that she only just barely manages to get her pin up in time to manage solely a block. She stumbles backward from the force but keeps herself on her feet, and her pin up, glaring at the Queen.]
So you think your kindness a magical remedy that would make everything disappear? Oh how benevolent of you to bestow it to me.
[She backed up then tried to take a swing at her.]
I know not why you attempted such naive condolences over my nature, but I have the strongest suspicion it had nothing to do with me. Why offer such to a complete stranger who tried to kill you twice? I feel no spite towards this, but kid yourself not that your kindness was for my sake.
no subject
Her jaws parted. Her maw gaped directly in Lace's face. And she hissed at her, ear-splitting.
Her spine exploded with silk, so much silk, so much more than she'd ever had before, enough to wrap the planet, and she unleashed upon Lace the technique of her mother, Pale Nails, sending a flurry of silk needles after her. And as she did so, still on all fours, she grabbed Lace's pin in her maw, her teeth clamping onto it like a lock, and wrenched it out of her hands.
Then she chased.
With both needle and pin, she surged after her, trying to stab her with both, one in hand and one in jaws, furious.
She made no more words, for she had naught else to say. Lace would learn her lesson in due time, once Hornet took what was hers. ]
no subject
One nail flies through her left arm, nearly cutting it clean off and causing it to dangle precariously by a thread which eventually gave way, causing the limb to fall to the ground. Pain suffuses her body and she begins to back away rapidly, nearly stumbling as she avoids one of them. The third flies by her right leg and chips off a bit of the worn metal. Others nick all around her body, her shoulders, her hips and her hat.
This time she has nothing to block Hornet's attack, and the needle lands true on her gaping wound, tearing it open further. She cries out in pain, stumbling and falling backwards, feeling the pin stab her next.
All propriety is lost now as Lace hisses back, caring not how she manages it but she wants to hurt Hornet. None of what has happened it Hornet's fault, Lace knows this, but in this moment it doesn't care. It will be one final release before she dies to dump all the years of anger and hurt onto her so she punches with her with remaining fist and kicks underneath her, trying to angle her legs so she could stab her with their metal pointed ends. She even tries to bite her face.
All a fruitless effort with such a soft, damaged body as hers.]
no subject
Utterly charming. This brave, adorable, foolish Lace.
She takes each and every one of Lace's blows, one going into her eye and making her toss her head in pain, as soft as it is. As irritated and pissed as she is, she can't help but feel admiration. Was it admiration? Love? Lace fought as good and as hard as any other respected warrior bug Hornet had ever faced, no matter what she was made of. Hornet felt it a shame she could not see what she did.
Then all of Hornet's new limbs take Lace and pin her down to the ground tightly.
Pin in mouth, she raised her maw back, gaining momentum to slam it back down and end Lace's life for good.
Hornet braced. She swung...
...and stopped just an inch away.
She tossed the pin out of her mouth and it went flying somewhere in the Cradle. She stared at Lace, still pinning her down. All of her fur stood on end, her hackles sharp and raised. She looked enormous. Power. Power over Lace, over everyone. Sooner or later she would have to give up. ]
no subject
Ha.
That had been short. But that was fine. That she even got one blow in was something to satisfied with. Her body pantomimes that of someone breathless and her chest rising and falls with exertion, her insides scraping against the needle in her body.
She meets Hornet's gaze evenly and wonders if she had imagined where she would be when she was first kidnapped. Did she regret it? Did she see it as something good given all the power she had gained?
Already she seems different...off from that spider that had comforted her, and for all Lace's words about doubting its sincerity that makes her...sad.
With a sigh she readied herself and--
--and she stopped. Why the fuck had she stopped? Fury ignites her once more when the pin goes flying across the Cradle.]
Spider....I swear if this is pity...I will never let you rest.
no subject
A fool to challenge the Queen. Before Lace had met Hornet's skill level quite well, but surely she knew she had no chance here. Hornet could have toyed and played with her, given her some more time, but she did not like hearing Lace's awful shrieking of pain.
Lace meets her gaze so evenly. Fool that she is, she has great strength still. Great courage. Didn't Lace feel the same? They had developed something, all this time. Something between them. Some sort of bond.
It would be a waste to just throw it all away.
With her first and third pairs of limbs she kept Lace pinned, and with the middle, the limbs she'd born with, Hornet began to tenderly stitch Lace back together. Her claws weaved careful silk. Soon there was a new arm. Her needle was drawn from Lace's chest and the wound repaired until Lace was good as she'd ever been.
The touches--
-- the touches were affectionate despite the overwhelming strength Hornet now had. Her eyes softened. She made only one response. ]
You are mine, and nothing shall harm what is mine.
no subject
Yet when Hornet began to repair her, that's when the struggles began again.]
Wait. [There was finally the tiniest edge of something like fear in her voice, or perhaps panic?]
Don't.
[She didn't want to be fixed. It wasn't just because this made it abundantly clear that Hornet had no intention of killing her, but because she did not want any part of her to be composed of Hornet's silk.
Her body was still almost entirely that of her mother's silk. But her mother was dead now which meant she could no longer use it against her. For the first time ever Lace had felt like her body belonged to her and her alone. Disgusting, weak, and strange as it was, it was finally her own.
That new arm was not hers. It was Hornet's.
Yet even more loathsome than that was the way her body reacted to such gentle touches. When was the last time she had been touched by something other than a blade? Not since Phantom had been banished. It's not something she had been expecting, and her threads jump in surprise and she found her body yearning for more of that tenderness.
Grossgrossgrossgrossnononono!!!!]
Spider. Please. I am tired.
no subject
...
But she doesn't listen to Lace's request. Instead she continues to repair her, spinning silk anew. ]
I have told you many times that you may be more than you are if you wish, and you have denied me. Yet now when I concede to what you insist is your nature, you would push me away?
[ She ties Lace's wrists together. If she has to, she will wrap silk around her mouth too, her poor Lace's mouth. A cruel thing, she knows, but it is only for now. Just until she understands that this is better for her. Hornet knows how it is. She had spent countless decades denying her own nature -- her own thirst. What had that gotten her people and her kin? All that time fighting against herself, and she ended up here anyways. They were who they were. Lace could not help that she was a toy any more than Hornet could help that she was Pale.
She could, at the very least, be Pale and gentle and kind. She would shower Lace in all the attentions her own creator had never given her.
With a single claw, she touches Lace's cheek. ]
It was you who remained here knowing full well I would not slay you. You desire my attention. Come with me at my side. I will take good care of you, and you may finally rest.
no subject
I-- [She what? Hornet's words were getting under her thread. She had been so caught up in the anguish and anger of having lost Phantom, and the almost obsessive desire to meet her end she had forgotten everything else.]
I'm. [It's only a half hearted effort to resist Hornet as she ties her wrists together. The repeated comments of belonging to her she had been pointedly ignoring, but if she had said it one more time she would have snapped. Since when? Who had decided that?
She had, clearly, and she could because she was a Pale Being. What exactly was Lace supposed to do? She was just some fiber. Fiber that had failed at everything it had ever attempted to do. She was ping ponging now between hurt, anger and resignation. Was that really it? Had all she accomplished was to simply change who held her chains?]
I thought you would. I did. Why wouldn't you?
no subject
It was foolish of you to raise your pin at me, but charming.
[ Had she wished Lace dead, she would have done the deed ages ago. All she wanted was for Lace to live. How frustrating it was that she did not see this. Though...her struggle against her binds is meek and shallow and this pleases Hornet. Would she not have to stuff her mouth after all? Perhaps Lace was now beginning to understand, and she could rest at last by her side.
And now the silk returned and with it, it pulled along a great old heaving thing.
One of the cages used for the Weaverspawn Grand Mother Silk had captured.
It was dusted and cleaned and Hornet weaved a thick fluffy bedding of white silk roses.
The Weavers had made the Cradle to keep Grand Mother Silk at rest. Now the Weavers had been called back home and Hornet would reshape the place to a proper Weaver home. A den. A nest. And with it she would have her prize. ]
I quite enjoy your company.
[ A thread of silk pulled the door open, expectantly. ]
no subject
Yet was it? She had been angry when Hornet had inserted her unwanted opinion on the merit of her life, so shouldn't she be glad the spider had found reason? If she had had to listen to her endless naive lecturing about things she knew nothing about Lace might have gone mad.
Despite all this, a part of Lace still fought. While she had thought it ridiculous, she would now admit to herself that the words had been important to her: "Yours was a life, pale one. Do not confuse your unique creation with its absence." Never had such words been said to her, and never would she had imagined that any bug who knew her nature would think such a thing. Where had the warrior who held such sentiments gone? Was she really just going to roll over and condemn herself to be someone's possession again?
Why not? How freeing would it be to just let go. To just accept her role, do as told and not have to think about all this anymore? Leave behind all these thoughts of her soul, autonomy, of what she should or shouldn't do, what was right or wrong. It was like a siren call in how alluring it was and she almost...almost accepted it...
...until she saw the cage.
Lace froze like a prey cornered by a hunter at the sight of it. Hornet could clean it up, make it look so beautiful, but it was still a cage and a tiny one at that. She wouldn't be able to even stand up to her full height in it.
Slowly, Lace got up, her hands curling to fists in their constraints. Her eyes never left the cage and she turned slightly to her side, as if it were a creature she was trying to make herself a smaller target for. Briefly her eyes flickered over to the edge of the platform. Could she make a run for it? Jump off and race towards the ventrica?
No. She probably wouldn't even get a couple of feet, but the idea of stepping into that thing was terrifying. Not even her mother had ever kept her in a literal cage. How was she to get out of this? In her panic, her mind was drawing up a blank. Was the only way to bide her time? To let Hornet think had cowed her and try some other day?]
...heehee... [The laugh was a weak, strained and soft thing. Hilarious. It was so fucking funny that she was only in this position where the spider wanted to force her into a cage, because she had freed Hornet from hers.
Shakily she took a couple steps toward it. Pretend. Hold strong. Withstand it for maybe a couple of months and an opportunity would show itself. Yet when she was within arms reach she stopped, unable to bring herself to finish the trek. What if Hornet never opened that door? What if she was kept in it forever to be nothing more than a pretty little trophy?]
I....I don't. I don't want to.
no subject
The reality of their world, that some bugs were higher and some were lower simply by nature, was so utterly cruel.
Yet it would be wrong to say that she was not excited by this show of brazen defiance.
Lace was prey. ]
I present to you no other option.
[ Now the silk around Lace's wrists extended to a bar of her new cage and wrapped around it. A leash. A chain. Hornet so dearly did not want to put anything in her mouth or neck. She restrained herself. ]
Too small or too short, we shall fix your bed as needed. [ She lie down in the field of roses like a cat and groomed her limbs, looking over her shoulder. She need not be alert. By manner of silk she had full control of Lace in this Citadel from any vantage point, and Lace knew that. To emphasize, the silk tugged on Lace's wrists. ] More freedoms you will gain if you behave yourself. You chose to stay here with me, little silk girl. Accept the consequences of your choice, and come easily to my side.
no subject
She should have taken her chance down at the Exhaust Organ when she had it.
The tug made her stumble forward and she tugged back experimentally.
Strong as could be.
It's ok. It would be ok. Just pretend, take it slow, don't lay it on too thick. Hornet had just said that if she behaved she would get more freedom.
"You chose to stay here with me, little silk girl. " She really wondered at those words. Lace had chosen to stay with her? Lace would argue against it, but in her heart she knew there was some sliver of truth buried behind the false claim. Lace had liked Hornet from the start because of her fire. She came to admire her for her fighting prowess. There had always been some level of attraction, she was a beautiful bug after all...but it was her compassion that had really captivated Lace's heart. As she observed the weaver's journey via the silk flies she had scoffed, been disbelieving and even judgmental of all the times Hornet had stopped to aid in some inane wish or to comfort and offer words of wisdom to another. Yet beneath all that exterior bullshit, Lace had been awed. She'd been smitten.
Maybe she had forgone the quick death the maggots would have given her to see Hornet one last time? To die by her blade would have been so sweet and romantic.
Yet the spider she had known seemed every bit as gone as her mother and sibling.
Her eyes became filmy and without another word she stepped into the cage.]
no subject
There was compassion in them. There was love. But it was a different kindness than Lace had known before. It was kindness for the subjects she ruled over, love for her things, her trinkets.
The cage door shut behind Lace and her wrists were freed of their ties. Hornet made her way over and once again did she show Lace that tenderness. One of her limbs came through the bars and stroked at Lace's cheek approvingly; another pat her head.
She knew Lace would give in eventually. To challenge one's nature carried such great exhaustion. Now she could relax and let Hornet lead the way.
She deserved all these attentions and more. ]
Good girl.
[ The claw at Lace's cheek went under her chin now. ]
A bit snug -- fear not, we will begin crafting you a larger one immediately. Now behave yourself and as I have promised, you will gain more freedoms. You are to address me as Hornet and do as I ask. Do you understand?
no subject
...
It felt so wrong to be without it. She hoped that if Hornet kept true to her word she would have it returned to her.
Lace tensed as Hornet drew near but she raised her head to look at her, frustrated with herself for not doing more, not resisting more. As Hornet's arms reached through the bars, Lace instinctively expected some harm, but as before the spider gave her the sweetest of touches. How gentle...she would not have thought a Pale Being capable of such a touch. It tore at something in her that this was all she had ever wanted. Whether physical or merely by words, she had only ever wanted a tender love.
The doll crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself and her cheeks colored.]
...yes, Hornet, I understand.
[No, she couldn't allow herself to be taken in. Lace wasn't even sure why she felt she had to fight. Did she still want to die? Well, certainly, but it was something more than that.
But. Hornet was being so sweet right now. If she maintained that, would it really be so bad?
She had just caged herNo. Yes. She'll figure it out. It was too much, everything that had happened. She couldn't think straight she'll....she'll figure it out.]
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[ And it did. Why was it that Grand Mother Silk had neglected her child so? She was lovely. She looked perfect here in this little enclosure. Hornet would make sure a very nice one was built for her. Something big enough for her to really stretch out in with bars polished and painted a metallic black and a nameplate. Something for herself and the Weavers to look at and enjoy.
And Lace would, in time, get her pin back. If she listened.
That hand kept stroking under Lace's chin as Hornet thought to herself. ]
I will tell you what shall be now. The Weavers made this place to keep your mother asleep. I have called the Weavers back, and as they return home, I shall have it refashioned into something more...hospitable. [ Whatever the hell that meant for a spider queen. She would use it to house herself, Lace, and whichever Weavers she felt most suited to be her court.
Now as she spoke, Hornet commanded the silk around them to retrieve Lace's pin. She showed it to her, wrapped in a protective cocoon. ]
You will be given a comfortable room and your own privacy, though you are to be in the cage as I please. In time I will return your weapon to you. There will undoubtedly be bugs here that must be struck down.
I desire to inflict no unnecessary cruelty upon you. Do not make me second guess myself.
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Try as she might to focus on not getting seduced by a false dream, there were several words that kept rolling over in Lace's mind.
Good girl.
This pleases me.
Very good.
The praise and acknowledgement of her efforts was like finding an oasis in a desert. It washed over her, drowning out all other thoughts and worries. So much so that at least in this moment she didn't realize all that weight that last statement carried.
No, she was deaf to it. She wanted, no, needed to hear her praise her more. She looked up at her, expression torn between pleading and confusion.]
I-I understand, Hornet.
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What was this? What was this way that Lace looked at her, her pleading face, so in need of attention and guidance?
Contentment bloomed deep inside of Hornet. I understand, Hornet. Look at how easy Lace had come crawling to her. Just look at her. She was so adorable and magnificent inside her little cage, though Hornet's heart ached to see her so as well, to do such a thing to her. This was for the best.
So she cupped Lace's cheek and stroked with her thumb, careful not to cut her with her claw. Hah. To think that just earlier she'd been kicking and snapping and striking Hornet with her pin. Now she addressed Hornet properly and spoke very little, for she understood there was little need for her opinion, since her new queen knew better than her. And since she'd fallen into line so quickly, Hornet could give her plenty of adoration. ]
Why do you carry such an expression so? Do you desire more of my attention? Unlike your mother, I have no intention to deprive you of it so. You are being obedient and excellent. Come closer to the bars, so I may caress you more as you deserve.
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[How was it that in but some scant minutes, Hornet had lauded her more than her mother had when she'd been given centuries?
Don't.
It'd be fine to give in just for a little bit, right? It's not as if she could escape now. That's all it would be. Just...just enjoy it for this moment. Ah, but some part said to resist, to cast aside such excuses. Lace ignored that voice and hesitantly inched forward getting as close to the bars as she cold. She grasped them and continued to look at the Weaver Queen.
She really was beautiful, and carried her title well. Lace opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. Was she allowed to make requests? There's one thing she had missed, had yearned for for so long.
Would Hornet give it to her?]
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She would love to put her claws all over Lace, and see her writhe in pleasure.
They are not ready yet.
But Hornet does touch her more than she had before, her reverent hands roaming down Lace's cheek to her jaw and her neck, petting, feeling, and it's all an odd mix between the way one would touch a pet, a doll, and a lover all at once.
She sees Lace's mouth open and then close. She doesn't mind a request. No guarantees she will grant it. ]
You may speak.
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In the past speaking such words would have utterly revolted her, no matter how much she yearned for it. Yet now, more than ever, she knows she needs it. She needs it because of everything that has happened, everything she has done, everything she has lost--even if it had to come from the person who responsible for some of it.]
Would you hug me?
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How adorable. ]
I would.
[ She opened the door of Lace's cage, standing ready and alert with silk if she opted to pull any sudden moves. Then she coaxed Lace to the front and embraced her with all six arms, sinking into the plushness of her body. ]
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And for a moment it felt good.
She felt so secure in Hornet's many arms. To be held in such a manner made her feel loved, it made her feel protected from all the things a sword could not fend off. She pressed her face into Hornet's chest and closed her eyes, turning away from the rest of the world and melted against her.
It brought Lace back to a time long, long ago. Some of the earliest years of her existence, the only time she could say she was truly happy. Her mother had kept her up here in the Cradle for so long, molding her to be a perfect little daughter--a child. She had been allowed little other than watering the roses, but her brightest days would be when Phantom was around.
Lace had always tried to please their mother. Phantom had always stood their ground. They had been the one to argue for her. Insisted that mother allowed her to roam, insisted that she be allowed a weapon after they'd seen how she always eyed theirs. They'd been the one to widen her world and teach her how to defend herself. They never gave into mother, and doubtless if that was not the primary reason, it definitely played a role in why they had been cast into Bilewater.
What would they think now if they saw her?
Would they be enraged that she was clinging to their killer?
Would they be disgusted at her weakness?
Would they be sad to see her being chained once more?
The latter would be the worst of all, and that realization was like surfacing after being stuck beneath the waves for so long. It felt like finally catching her breath.
She would resist this. It would be difficult. Hornet's words were like honey, her gentle touch addicting, but she would resist this. If she wanted any chance of freedom she had to play it smart, but ironically, the hug had given her what she needed to get her head on straight.
Finally she pulled away and cast her gaze meekly away, clasping her hands.]
Thank you.
[Even in death, Phantom was protecting her. She would do her best not to let them down.]
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No matter. She would learn she had no reason to put up a fight. Her life would be comfortable and easy here and she would have nothing to think about. Hornet would love her and so would the home-bound Weavers.
And so too would Lace love and praise Hornet, for her constant battle with herself and her purpose could finally be put to rest.
All in due time. ]
I will take excellent care of you. Do not fear.
[ The cage door shut again as Hornet retreated. Then behind her a large silk cocoon began to form. Her resting place, for now. ]
I leave to rest just nearby. You may call if you need me, but do not be frivolous. I wish not to put anything in your mouth, for I enjoy your voice.
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It was good timing. She could sort herself out, get her head back on her shoulders and out of Hornet's alluring words.]
I will not. [She assured. Even for something she needed, Lace would try her best to hold off. Now was the time to figure out some sort of plan.
So without another word she sat back down to rest among her roses.]
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[ She double checked the latch of Lace's cage. Triple checked. It was shut as tightly as any lock could be. As she fiddled she caught a look at the nameplate again.
Weaver, in quarter part, last of their line, staked to service.
Tracked and taken beneath the City of Steel. Eight Choristors, twelve Envoys lost to task.
There was a small silence as Hornet said nothing, turning this over in her head over and over, and then a thread of her silk erupted from her cocoon, grabbing her and tugging her inside with lightning speed. She curled up tightly within it, comfortable, and stitched the opening shut.
She slept, though there were times where if Lace cared to look, she would see six eyes staring at her through the silk. ]
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And those five days had been the most stressful of Lace's life. There was some gratitude in that the Weaver had been kept busy tending to her kingdom, trying to figure out her new powers, and welcoming the first first weavers that had arrived. While not many, it looked like some few existed just beyond the edges of the kingdom, where her mother's threads had not been able to reach them. At the very least, Lace had always suspected some might be nearby, and that would be the only thing to explain why they had been able to arrive so quickly.
Unless they had some other means of quick transportation.
Truthfully Lace did not care. It worked in her favor that Hornet was properly distracted, because when she had time away from her to think clearly she realized a very obvious fact. She had hoped to bide her time, to work out a plan that would be fully realized and allow her to escape the new Queen's clutches but unlike what she thought before, she didn't have months.
Once Hornet replaced all of her mother's silk, it would be over. There would be nothing she could do. Her own body would be a tracking device she could never free herself from.
She needed to get out now.
So it was that after watching Hornet leave with one of the weavers, she got to it. What did she have in her arsenal? There were the silk flies which she could use to scout out places or keep an eye on things. She had her ability to project which she could use to send someone off the trail. While incorporeal, it looked solid. Then she did know a little bit of rune magic. The latter two unfortunately required significant amounts of silk, which she currently did not have, and while she had been able to break the seal on Hornet's cage, breaking something is much easier than making it.
Not that she thought for a second she'd be able to make anything that could hold Hornet, but if she could at the very least create blockades, maybe she could make it more difficult for the Weaver to find her...
Ah. Now wasn't the time to think of it. Escape first. Plan later.
Lace shoved her new arm through the bars of the cage with some difficulty. Even for her it was a tight squeeze, but there were benefits to having no bone or muscle. It mattered not what harm befell this arm, as she intended to cut it off as soon as possible. It was still stiff and she could hear thread snapping as she twisted it around to grab at the latch but finally, after some struggling she managed to slide it open.
The moment it opened Lace froze, expecting Hornet to suddenly appear but after nearly a minute she got her wits back.
From there she didn't stop. With the aid of silk flies she scouted out the halls, knowing which were empty, which had too many guards. She was able to find one lone chorister to ambush so she could steal their pin which she used to quickly chop off the arm Hornet created, and gouge out the silk in her chest. That had been excruciating, but Lace bore it quietly, knowing it had to be done.
She left both the arm and piece of her chest there, next to the unconscious chorister. They would do nothing for her and she had no time to hide them.
Fear grew in her as she then made her way toward the bellway station. She expected the Weaver to pop up at any second, but at last, with relief she found her way there. These stations had been closed by the time she had finally been able to leave the cradle. She could only assume Hornet had opened them, and now Lace would make use of them. She dared not try and see if a bell beast was out there, instead just hopping down into the tunnels. She was going to pass through on foot.
Where would she go? She hadn't yet decided. What would she do? Who knows.
All Lace knew was that she couldn't stay here.
And so she ran, never once looking behind her.]
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There had not been doubts in Hornet's mind even for a second that she would see another, even if only one. As a spiderling the Weavers around her had begged her so dearly to be a Queen. Now that their wish had seen its fulfillment, would they not come sprawling, running?
Some came from deceptively close, just around the edges of Pharloom, scattered far enough to escape the threaded gaze of Grand Mother Silk and nothing more. Others yet to arrive journeyed from further lands, the rare full Weaver, half Weaver, quarter Weaver, even a minuscule, scant few carrying hybrid brood. Was their population great and vast? Nay, but it was more than expected. As Hornet had always suspected, populations of Weaver had scattered long and far into small and quiet pockets, giving the impression to others here that they had gone entirely extinct.
Now Pharloom had begun its transformation into a proper spider den. Grand Mother Silk had ascended the Weavers, but she understood not what a Weaver liked. Everything was too bright and too open. Still in infancy, of course, but all around the former Citadel most lights had been dimmed or darkened entirely, and the Weavers that had arrived begun casting great silk nets over the halls and corridors, and Hornet had done the same to shape the Cradle and the immediate vicinity into her own grand dark den, just for her. Just for her and her chosen court.
And her pet. Her jewel. Her Lace.
But as she descended on silk, eager to show Lace the other, private room she'd had cleaned out and repurposed just for her, she found that the cage was empty.
...
She stood just in front of the swinging door, listening to its ancient creak. Hornet had anticipated this. It would take some time for Lace to break in and resistance was expected. She had not expected it to happen so fast, though. And how was it that Lace had escaped at all? Either the lock had failed or she had overlooked something. Lace was unique, after all, in body and spirit.
Hah. Hornet was deeply amused.
She hissed and as she did so a band of little Weaverlings scuttled to her side. She gathered them in her palm and held them up to the cage door where they parted their masks and gathered Lace's scent. They chirped in acknowledgement and then they were off on their journey, tracking her like a bloodhound. ]
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She half considered going the way of Mount Fay. The cold had no effect on her and there was sparing silk. It could potentially be an option, but if she intended to actually live she would need to accumulate some sort of stash. If not well...there were better ways to go then slowly withering away in some icy, forgotten corner.
The next had been the Blasted Steps. When Lace surface there she was shocked. It had never been a particularly bright place---at the very least not for one raised in light such as her, but now it was as if it had been cast into a permanent night. The citadel had been bad enough, but was this what Hornet intended for the entire kingdom?
How dreary.
Much like with Mount Fay, Lace considered going beyond the Blasted Steps, but the exact same issue arose. No, that could not be her out. Not yet at least. Nothing would be viable until she found herself some silk, and it did not take her long to know where to go. It was a long journey on foot, but eventually she made her way to Widow's former abode. Much to her relief she found the silk here not yet touched. She knew better than to stick around so she'd need to move as much of this as she could somewhere safer. But where? Lace could only assume that Hornet's newfound powers would work like her mother's--only perhaps more potent---which meant there would be few places safe to her.
With a grunt she hefted a large spool of silk over her shoulder.
Hunter's March.
That was her best bet. Out of all the regions of Pharloom, that was the place least effected by her mother's silk, thanks to the Skarr's song. Granted, over the years it had weakened, but it would be her best bet.
She tensed as she heard a skittering sound behind her and she swirled around.
There, in the corner, she saw them. Their eyes glowing and staring beadily at her---a group of weaverlings.
Damnit.
She glowered at them.]
Away with you. Tell your queen I have no interest in being her pet [She turned around and scampered away. Looks like her hope to take as many of these spools as she could was dashed. It would be too risky coming back here now.]
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The Weaverlings scurried and scuttled right after Lace with great agility, their legs tapping against ground, against walls, through sand, silently across silk, descending from corners one would not know existed.
They would not answer to Lace.
They answered to Hornet alone. One of their own. A proper Queen.
Finally as they got close enough to Lace to sniff they did so with enthusiasm, taking the scent and the sight of her in and imprinting it in their little clever minds, and they erupted in a loud chorus of hissing and chirping.
They were speaking to something. To someone.
And from a distance away, though a long distance, Hornet heard the little ones quivering and calling for her, and she stalked towards their direction on her web of silk, her limbs carrying her with lightning fast speed.
Then one of the little Weaverlings nipped at Lace's leg and tugged out a strand of silk with its fangs and ran away with it, far far away, off towards its queen, off to show Her what it had, for Lace's body was not her own and had never been her own, always made by someone else, someone else's silk and someone else's labor.
It may be more evident now that Lace is being tracked. ]
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She was still fine with kicking them whenever she got the chance, however, and there was something quite satisfying whenever she sent one sailing.]
Ow!
[She hissed when she felt one nip her and then she saw it run off with her silk.]
Oh no you don't!
[She tried to go after it but immediately more began to encroach on her, blocking off the path, and then it was long gone.
Damnit. It didn't take a genius to guess what that meant. This was already falling apart so quickly and this was exactly why she had wanted to plan longer but her window of opportunity was minuscule. With her body fading faster than it ever had, it wouldn't be long before Hornet "fixed" her. With a frustrated whine she decided to continue with her plan and make her way to Hunter's March. Hopefully she would be able to lose them amongst some of the more precarious terrain there. And if not...well. She had hoped to use this spool to sustain herself, but she supposed it would be time to test out how well she could make those blockades. If they couldn't even stop a bunch of weaverlings she may as well just toss herself into the lava of Deep Docks.
If she stayed long enough it would eventually do that job.]
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Yes, this had the scent on it indeed. That fresh and clean scent of silk. Some of the old monarch's, which carried with it the fog of age, and some her own, the Queen Weaver, newer, sweeter. The one that played the organ had been dull and lacking and dusty, not unlike an old shelf or bookcase.
With this she could find a trail and pursue it.
She pat the beast on its head and continued climbing through the webs and nets of silk that had been strung up with her single Weaverling in tow. She'd found Lace's scent and pursued her mark, but the scent of silk did not typically last long, not off one thread and not out in this environment where it was easily diluted. She had a decent sense of where Lace was going, but it was diffused and losing specificity.
The Weaver Queen growled to herself in frustration.
Her low growl seemed to hum and vibrate off the silk spun all around her, and it was then that she was struck with an idea.
Were song and frequency not the dearest craft of the Weavers?
She spoke, proud and grand. ]
I am impressed by your tenacity. I knew you would escape, but not the hour.
[ Her voice was carried away, far away, down and across all the strands of silk that encased Pharloom, a frequency being carried over thousands, millions of wires. Surely they would reach Lace.
Would she respond? Would Hornet be able to hear her response?
Likely not.
But Lace would hear. ]
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Hornet's voice seemed to come from everywhere all at once. It passed along all the silk around her, seemed to pass through her. Where was it coming from? Where was she? Fear lodged itself deep in Lace's chest.
It was a good thing she managed to keep herself upright. She could see one of those well hidden pressure plates the Skarr were so fond of using to set off their traps. Ordinarily she didn't need to bother avoiding them--she was too light to set them off but with this heavy spool of silk she was hauling it would have done the job. One trap would hardly kill her, but it certainly would have been enough for the horde of weaverlings chasing to catch up and swarm her.
Lace could still hear them behind her---skittering, jumping, and incessant drone of hissing and chittering that made her silk crawl.
No wonder weavers were called beasts.]
Shut your mouth. [She snapped. Despite her fear, her voice was clear and strong. If she could get Hornet to speak again, maybe she would get a better idea of where the Queen was.]
Do you not have more important matters to tend to than chasing me down?
[Ugh. She couldn't keep this up. If Hornet really was nearby then she could strike at any moment and it would all be over.
It was time to figure out if there was even the slightest bit of hope in this working.
Despite her exhaustion Lace forced her legs to pump faster, increasing some of the distance between her and the weaverlings. She knew where she was going and there it appeared---a small entrance to a cavern. The one with the statue of the once proud Skarr leader.
She darted through the archway then skid to a stop, turning around and slamming the spool down on the ground.
Please work, please work, please work. She begged and placed her hand on either side of the opening and thought back to those runes.
Lace had seen many weavers brought to Pharloom in cages, their power ensnared by those magical runes specifically built to counter the power of their unique kind. At first it had been curiosity that had her sought to learn about them---after all, what else was there to do?
It was only when she learned her mother was bringing in one who was half pale that she began to study them in earnest. That is how she was able to free Hornet, instilling the spell on a silk fly and conducting it her way.
It had been a gamble. Lace hadn't exactly been able to test it out on any of the other cages without risking tipping her mother off.
This too, would be a gamble.
Bright lights flashed around her and seemed to coalesce in the space between both walls.
The runes shone for a moment, then cemented themselves in the air around the opening.
Lace stumbled back away from it and this time she did fall. The world around her spun. She knew that would take a lot of silk and energy, but it was even more than she anticipated. The spool was completely empty, and even with that some of her own body had been siphoned.
So much so that her clothes hung on her, a little too large, and the sockets where her metal legs were attached felt painfully stretched.
Fuck....fuck.
Lace reached for her pin at her hip and stared at the entrance where she could see the weaverling encroaching.
If this didn't work it was probably over, but damned she be if she still didn't go down batting as many of them away as if they were golf balls.]
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They crawled back in pairs to observe the sealed door, which now had currents of glowing pale magic running through it. The barrier was not entirely invisible to the naked eye, but rather had a strange filmy sheen to it. Still, it proved transparent enough that it was not unlikely a fair amount of Skarr travelers were going to have sore heads by the end of the night.
The Weaverlings chattered and chirped amongst themselves and to each other. They had not the intelligence of their greater kin, but enough awareness to recognize they were blocked, and seemingly by a familiar magic, one devised by their very own. They pushed and crawled against the door with their tiny spindly legs but every contact resulted in a searing burn.
They gave up.
They turned to face Lace with a final noisy hiss and scuttled away back in the direction of their monarch. And when they had returned, She was not pleased. ]
...
[ Hornet took them in her palms and observed. Hm. They would not -- could not -- disobey her, even if they desired so. She observed them for injuries. Their shells appeared fine, though the bases of their feet seemed tender and sore, perhaps from the heat. Had Lace hid herself? Surely their sense of smell would have sniffed her out. A barricade? Had she died, even?
Bah.
It was no matter what Lace had done.
She had made the mistake of responding and though Hornet could not hear her exact words, she felt, much to her great pleasure, the vibrations of her vocal chords upon silk and in that wobbling, humming shudder, she felt an image forming in her mind like an echolocating bat.
She followed the Weaverlings as they took off once more, all of them now, and continued to stalk her prey in the direction of Hunter's March, leaping and crawling from wall to wall. She caught Lace's scent again. Closer now. This world was her web. She had to keep Lace talking and the angrier the better.
The Weaver Queen sent another call down the radio antennae of silk. ]
Delicate one, the world beyond your birthplace is a tumultuous and violent land, not meant for one as frail and fragile as you. Return, and I promise you safety.
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They ran into the seal, and she breathed out a sigh of relief, shoulders sagging. She stepped backwards, keeping a watch on them to make sure it held before leaning against the statue.
A moment. She just needed a moment to rest. The past five days had not been good to her. Her sleep had been poor--how could she sleep with Hornet's eyes fixed on her? Then her mad dash hadn't allowed for a single moment of respite.
When the tiny critters finally gave up she returned their hissing with a very unlady-like gesture. Her eyes closed.
A moment. Just a moment.
Slowly she slid down the statue until she was seated on the ground.
Exhaustion ate away at her and she might have almost passed out there but then came that voice, that once again seemed to come from everywhere at once. She immediately jumped up and looked around.
Where was she? Where the fuck was she?
Slowly she turned around, surveying the entire cavern, then looked up. There was a pathway upward, but she couldn't be there. No...she wasn't nearby. It wouldn't make sense. Lace straightened up, trying to figure this out. Her Mother had always been able to track her. That was because of the silk her body was composed of. The few instances they spoke, Her voice had resounded within her mind. This was different.]
I
[She immediately shut her mouth. Hornet hadn't responded to what she had said previously. She somehow doubts she would let telling her to shut up slide. Which leads Lace to believe she can't hear her which makes talking pointless. She can't stay here for too long. The weaverlings would doubtless return with her.
She cast her eyes upward, trying to judge the height. High. Very high. She might be able to make it, but her legs were now unstable with how ill-fitting they had become since her body shrunk.
Hornet's words echoed in her mind, incensing her. Words like that had been ones her Mother had spoken, back before she'd appointed herself a knight, when she had tried to dissuade her from picking up the pin. Frail, frail, frail. That's all anyone thought when they looked at her, didn't they? No matter how hard she worked. No matter what she accomplished.
She hated that it was true.
Most of all, because someone had deliberately made her that way.]