Chapter Text
It was a springtime picnic, thrown by one of Hornet's more social governesses. Many of her classmates were in attendance, indulging in the break from study with what many of them thought of as a modest, casual party. It was thrown in the Queen’s gardens with her permission, though she herself had been too busy to attend. Now that the place was in bloom, it provided an acceptably idyllic scenery of climbing vines lacing floral knots around the fountain, and petals softened the ground. The outdoor aspect at least made it feel more laid-back than any ballroom affair, and Hollow quickly found some fun to be had by teaching some of the younger children in attendance how to weave flower stems into garlands and bracelets and the like.
They were attending on request from their sister, who was somehow less comfortable with this kind of socializing than Hollow was. To be fair, Hollow had the advantage of not being expected to speak, and the rules and structure in place when attending any formal affair gave them something to focus on, and would guide them. Hornet, though, found it all stifling. Any friends she managed to make among the children she grew up tutored with often had similar opinions, and so most of them had elected to excuse themselves from attending, politely or not. Hornet could have as well, but the White Lady had urged her to attend. Her argument had been that if Hornet was present now, she'd be able to call back on previous goodwill to excuse herself from attending any future event that she really didn't want to be a part of, so as to not subject herself to any drama. Hollow had found this method of convincing their sister to be polite rather amusing. She was definitely growing into something of a strategist.
They kept half an eye on her, where she sat among her previous and current classmates, probably just trying not to look bored. Hollow considered pulling her over to play with the children. She wasn't fantastic with younglings, but the two of them could agree that kids were usually easier and more fun to converse with than their highborn parents. The ones that weren't already spoilt to the point of constant screaming, anyway.
One such child was now pulling on another's flower craft. It was only a bunch of stems woven together into a tangle, but they'd worked hard, and it was now being destroyed. Hollow reacted quickly by gently pushing the bully kid's hand away from the other, and shaking their head. Not understanding how to make their own was no reason to be rude.
" Excuse me! What do you think you're doing?!" A sudden voice snapped them to attention. A middle aged noble that Hollow hadn't seen before. There were many of those. They were doing their best to keep up with internal affairs, but there were just so many names. They thought this one was some sort of earl. Either way, he looked upset.
"Keep your hands off my child!" The maybe-earl surprised everyone by snapping, and pulling his young away from Hollow. The surrounding area went rather quiet. Hornet was at the scene so quickly Hollow hadn't even noticed her move.
"You realize," she began, already not sounding friendly, "you're shouting at the child of your King and Queen themselves?"
"Hah! If they mean to frighten me with their heritage, that won't work. They're no King in their own right, and they certainly have no right to shove their horns into a parent's business. Shame on you!" There were murmurs now, but Hollow could only notice how the child they'd apparently slighted actually looked embarrassed.
"Cease your squawking! They can't have meddled in your business. That would require you to have actually been watching your brat ," Hornet challenged. Hollow got the creeping feeling that maybe her approach wasn't making things better. They put a hand on her shoulder, a silent bid to back down.
"Be cautious in your proceedings, you continue to allow a guest to be insulted on royal ground, and I will not continue to take that." The pissed-off aristocrat was very notably looking at Hollow , not Hornet.
"If you find your treatment so distasteful, it'd be no trouble to have the guards escort you to the gates," Hornet threatened, her own voice level. Hollow attempted to step between them, hands up in what they very much hoped translated into "Now look here hold on--"
"That's it! I challenge you, princeling. Meet me at the dueling ground at dawn, if you have a shred of the honor your family name should uphold."
The murmurs of the surrounding guests had long since quieted to rapt silence. Now they erupted anew, gasps and all. Hollow was still scrambling to understand what just happened when the maybe-earl dragged his child by the arm and stormed off. Hornet looked about half a second away from turning the garden into a dueling ground herself. Hollow looked around, searching for the slightest bit of context as to what was supposed to happen next. Rules often comforted them, but they sorely wished that they weren't always stuck learning new ones on the fly like this.
The party hadn't gone on much longer after that little drama. Hornet already had little taste for casual entertainment before it all went down, and there was no doubt everyone in attendance was in a great hurry to get back to their respective lands and spread the new gossip like a virus. Hornet paced a palace hallway, while Hollow sat and waited at a windowsill, distracting themself by counting the floor tiles along the walls, and trying to calculate the area they encompassed in their head from that.
"Alright," she finally said, prompting them to look over, "So. I don't know anything about the code of dueling in Hallownest. The Hive has nothing like it, as far as I'm aware. When there's any feuding in Deepnest, the procedure is to fight until you're forced to flee. Only fools die for honor. Do you know where this 'dueling ground' is?" She looked over. Hollow shook their head.
"Alright," She said again. "Okay. Are we in agreement that it's in our best interest not to let this escalate?"
Hollow tilted their head. Now, they didn't have the best imagination, so maybe the concept of how this could possibly escalate any further was simply beyond them.
"Don't give me that look! Your Hallownest folk are constantly running themselves in circles trying to avoid anything inconvenient. I'm sure there's a way out of this. We only need to find it."
They sighed, earning a scoff from their sister.
"I know we don't exactly have the time to go poring over tomes and textbooks on duel etiquette. There aren't any laws on the subject that I know of--we may have to resort to asking for outside help. Preferably from someone who can be discreet."
No parents, then. They supposed that made sense, they couldn't imagine any of their three being particularly pleased about this. Besides, Hollow was technically an adult in their own right. Really, they should be dealing with this on their own. They would have tried, had they been under any delusion that Hornet wasn't going to make this her problem as well.
... Well, it was at least partially her fault. They wondered if the frothing noble would have bothered to initiate a challenge if Hollow had just silently stared him down long enough. That generally got people they disliked to just walk away, given enough time. They supposed they ought to be upset with her. Especially given Hollow’s long history of having their autonomy undermined, which Hornet had already been made privy to. Wasn't what had happened more of the same, even if she'd only been trying to defend them?
"I'll ask around, I suppose. It isn't like this will be kept secret anyway, there were so many onlookers. The best we can hope for is that the news won't reach our parents until after we've figured this nonsense out." She thought out loud, as she often did around Hollow. Hollow's attention was squarely back on their tiles. They thought about looking for information on this alleged 'dueling ground' in the news. Or something. They really had no idea where to start, here.
There was a bit of silence, and then Hornet spoke again. More like she commanded their attention with a certain tone of voice that they often felt prophesied the sort of leader she'd one day be.
"Hollow. Make no mistake, I will get you out of this. I mean that. I have no intention of being the reason you're ever forced to pick up a nail again. Alright?" She spoke, clear and confident.
Hollow looked back at her again, surprised. So much had changed about their little sister, since the days when she'd been a tiny spiderling hopped-up on god's blood. But one thing that evidently hadn’t changed was the way she dealt with guilt . Always so action oriented. Words alone meant little to her. That was easier to deal with back then, but nowadays, they find more and more that they can't simply hug the bad feelings out of her. That was the unfair part.
Okay. They supposed they did have one idea.
Sign language was difficult for the both of them. Learning any new language so late in life was a great challenge, but the two of them were more or less proficient in fingerspelling, by this point. Hollow signed carefully, but very slowly. Hornet's methods were more error-laden, as she often tried to get her messages out as quickly as possible. She considered it more important for her to be able to read sign than write it, anyway. To that effect, Hollow took their time in spelling out their idea to her.
She squinted. "...’O’… ‘R’? Ah--Ogrim?"
A nod.
"... That’s worth a shot."
Hollow made a mental note to bring a tin of loose leaf tea to the barracks, as a gift. Dryya loved the stuff.
Ogrim was found outside the barracks at the training grounds, overseeing drills. He greeted princeling and princess as enthusiastically as expected, to the varying degrees of shock and curiosity from the trainees. He did bow deeply, but whatever his intention with it, it really couldn't come across as anything but playful.
"Your highnesses! What a nice surprise! Come for a sparring match, perhaps? You're getting so tall now, princess, It’d be a grand time getting to test the progress you've made with your needle!" He all but gushed, standing proud and jolly.
"Not today." Hornet cleared her throat, like she'd somehow rehearsed this interaction, "Sir Ogrim, you know me to be technically foreign to this land, and my sibling's education on local affairs had long been delayed. I was wondering if you could enlighten us on a custom we find ourselves curious about?"
"Oh? Well, of course! But what do you come to me for that you couldn't ask your tutors, or your father?" He looked between them.
"It's about dueling. We thought it would be more educational to ask someone who'd have a wealth of personal experience," she explained.
(Hollow sometimes found themself curious about the practice of lying. Some people, like their mother and Hornet, made it look so easy. And then others, like their father and Ogrim, seemed to find it immensely difficult. Mostly, they were just relieved they didn't really have to bother with it, themself. It seemed like such a hassle. Especially when most people were already content to read whatever they wanted to see off Hollow's blank mask.)
"Dueling!" He cried, "Why, forgive me, Princess of Deepnest, but you're still a bit young to be curious about that . And I can't think of anyone who'd challenge a chi--er, a royal directly," he deflected.
"Humor me. Let's imagine, hypothetically, someone made the stupid decision to demand satisfaction from, say, Hollow , their status notwithstanding. What'd be the procedure, there?" She gestured to them.
"Hmm... I suppose it hardly hurts to know of our traditions. Dueling goes back a long way in our kingdom. Indeed, there's nothing more glorious than the clash of combat between two bugs fighting for honor!" He raised a claw, looking out at the trainees. Metal hit metal and wood in a rhythm-less backdrop of blows as they practiced their forms against dummies, or fenced one another.
"There is something of a code of honor, though it evolves with the generations. The challenger declares a time and place, and the challenged--that'd by you, your highness, in this case--will meet them there. You, as the challenged, get to choose from a selection what weapon will be used by both parties. The choice is usually between nails and staves, though I suppose it depends on who you've theoretically insulted.
Both parties must bring a witness. A diplomat, in a sense, to facilitate proceedings in a civilized manner. Before weapons are distributed, the secondaries have a chance to meet and negotiate peace. If they arrive at some agreement that the argument isn't worth dueling for, the affair ends right there, with both sides sharing agreed-upon concessions.
But if they cannot, and you must fight, the one who has their blood shed first is given the chance to yield and apologize. And even if they do not, the aggressor may declare that they choose to spare their life. People rarely die when challenged nowadays. It's about defending your honor, and the willingness to fight for it is often enough to satisfy both parties. The goal is to leave on amicable terms, unless either of you feel a moral obligation to cut the other down."
"... And this is legal here?" Hornet demanded.
"... Well, er, we... Murder is certainly illegal, of course!" Ogrim sort of laughed.
"And there's no way to get out of a challenge before meeting with weapons?"
"Hm? Oh! Well, I suppose if you didn't want to go through with the duel itself… Yes, of course you can apologize to your challenger. That's often enough. It depends on the insult, of course! An apology might be enough for a challenge issued over some verbal mockery, but it probably wouldn't be enough for, say, a previous physical attack, or a harmful betrayal. That makes sense, yes?"
"... Noted," Hornet nodded. Hollow sometimes got the sense that Hornet found many of their home's customs to be incredibly stupid. This was probably one of those times.
"Where's the dueling ground?"
"Oh-- We meet at the shore of the Blue Lake, nowadays. It'd previously been up east of the Pleasure House, until someone went and built that colosseum--"
Hornet thanked him, and turned to go on her way. Hollow gifted Ogrim the tea, and spared a bow for their slightly bemused old mentor. They declined an invitation to have lunch at the mess hall, electing instead to follow their sister. The two had something of a reputation for going off on their own whims, so the abrupt exit wasn't too odd. It was only that the young royals themselves were a bit odd.
-
"Ugh. Everything in this entire caste is just powered by ego, isn't it?"
Once back to the palace by stagway, Hornet had tailed Hollow to their room, where they now sat and worked with some shears and parchment at their colorful window-box garden, carefully browsing the healthiest looking blooms. The flowers were nice, this spring.
On her part, Hornet sat with a quill and paper at their desk, mumbling to herself and occasionally scribbling and crossing things out. The background ambiance of pen scratching and general stress reminded them so much of their father, though they'd keep that thought to themself. Hornet had quite a nasty bite when she was insulted. Literally.
"How does one negotiate a peace talk over something so trivial? It shouldn't even be a problem. The snot-nosed little jerk and his misbehaving child couldn't even take the idea of criticism. How do you explain to someone like that a concept so basic as: 'It is not a good idea to stab your King’s eldest child over a bad time at a party?'" She crumpled up another sheet, and discarded it. Hornet leaned back in her chair, groaning in frustration.
"Maybe impaling the fool won't be so bad, after all. Try to aim for the mouth."
Hollow came up behind her to flick one of her horns. She waved them off, before noticing what they carried. A parchment wrapped bouquet with a silk ribbon, freshly clipped.
"... Pretty. What are they?" They held it closer for her to examine, a proud set to their shoulders. Hand signs were currently hit-or-miss between them, but they'd long shared fluency in this particular language.
"...Those-- You're actually going to apologize?!" She spat. Hollow gave no indication that they had any qualms with this, patiently adjusting a few errant leaves to keep them from squishing. People appreciated attention to detail.
"But you didn't even do anything! It was that egotistical baron who'd found the smallest excuse to lose his mind--and I had been the one to stoke his ire further! You shouldn't have to apologize. Let me handle the peace talk as your second, and you won't even have to acknowledge the bastard."
A hand sign, quick and concise for its simplicity.
"... 'No', what?"
They gestured to Hornet. Signed "no," again.
She looked taken aback, then glared dangerously. Good, so she got the message. "... You need a second. Those are the rules."
They shook their head, and held up the bouquet again. They wouldn't need a single thing if their apology was sufficient.
"And if the flowers aren't sufficient?"
They shrugged.
" Hollow! "
They strode out, leaving their sister to her frustration and scribbling. They had a next step, and that was enough for now. For the sake of their sanity.
It was quick work to dispatch a messenger with their gift to the right noble, now that they knew he was a baron. That particular messenger, by virtue of existing near the palace over the last day, had immediately known exactly who to send the flowers to after taking a moment to read them. Peace, love for your fellow higher being, and remorse. She’d then commended her princeling on their wisdom. Duels were really such awful things, she'd said. Hollow counted themself unbelievably lucky that their mother would be off on business for a few more days yet. And with any more luck, their father wouldn't learn about this incident until, oh, next year. That hope wasn't actually much of a stretch. The Pale King wasn't really one for court gossip.
Palace couriers worked fast. They'd only had to wait an hour or two before the one he sent came back looking… distressed. She stammered through an explanation of what'd happened. Apparently, the baron had taken the bouquet as mockery. The flowers had been interpreted in the most basic way one could interpret receiving a bouquet in the mail: "Sorry for your loss." The courier said he'd shouted something about Hollow's cockiness, acting as if the baron were already good as dead.
Okay. So not every noble in the land could understand the Queen's favored message system. Good to know.
They realized belatedly that they hadn’t thought to attach a damn letter.
Hollow sat against the wall in their room, silent and still in that way that Hornet's classmates had told her reminded them of a propped-up ball-jointed doll. She found that a bit dramatic. They aren't nearly so lifeless, and that'd be clear to anyone if they ever bothered to really look. Besides, dolls weren't even creepy. Really, the silliest things tended to unsettle Hallownest bugs.
She rocked back on the back legs of the desk chair, trying and failing again to outline her points for the truce. She just couldn't think of any that didn't amount to "You're wrong, this is stupid, and we have to agree on this so no one gets stabbed." She figured whoever the baron chose as his second was probably going to be just as confrontational as he was, and so it’d fall on Hornet to be the only reasonable person there with an audible voice.
This would be so much easier if she could just take Hollow's place. They had no business dueling, hadn't even picked up a nail since the day they quit knight training. Hornet was fast, and could slice through any of these rich, complacent old farts in a matter of less than seconds. She would bet that the baron had never even held a weapon for any real purpose in his life.
It was never Hollow's safety she worried for. Rusty or not, a lifetime of training doesn't just disappear. They could probably be done with this even faster than she could, no matter how long it's been. They could snap the pompous idiot like a twig. They could kill him without exerting any effort. And that was exactly why neither of them wanted Hollow to duel.
Hollow hated fighting, hated even the idea of it. So many people relished violence, as evidenced from the barracks, from the mercenaries they produced, and from the apparently commonplace nature of dueling in Hallownest tradition. Hornet couldn't even count herself any different, being from Deepnest. Her mother was a warrior, and she would be, too. Strength and agility were key to survival, and for earning respect. She was a hunter, and she loved that for herself.
It had been astounding to her, when she first came to truly understand that she had found a real, honest-to-gods pacifist in her elder sibling. And their wishes would be respected. She would do everything in her power to make sure of that. Through a senseless series of injustices, Hollow had been put in the position where they had ended up having to earn the right to wish at all . She'd cut down anyone who thought themselves entitled to their actions, be they some party guest with no self awareness, or even the Pale Wyrm himself.
She stared down at her scribbled out page. Nearly hissed at it.
"There has to be another way," she said at length. Hollow didn't react. Hornet took a breath.
"Perhaps… it would be in our best interest to ask one of our parents for advice." They looked at her quickly enough that she could glean the idea spooked them. She rolled her eyes, an attempt to keep them calm with normalcy.
"Please, I'm not going to turn around and tattle. It's only a suggestion. Out of our shared pool, which one of them, do you think, would be the most likely to help us do this ourselves, for being the least likely to want to get in the middle of anything?" She asked.
They looked at each other. It wasn’t even really a question.
"...A duel," the Pale King said flatly.
He had been repairing a wingsmould in his workshop when the children burst in. The construct now sat disassembled on the workbench, while he used the multitool as something to just fiddle with in his hands while he listened to his daughter explain the situation. His other child stood stock still slightly behind her. It was more than a little reminiscent of how Hornet used to hide behind their cloak when she was in trouble for something. Amazing how Hollow could achieve the same effect, being so much taller than either of them.
"How is this a situation in which they can find themselves? Letting noblemen kill each other over paltry slights sounds like something that ought to have been outlawed centuries ago!" Ah, here was the part of their predicament where Hornet somehow managed to pin some blame on him. She always found that easy, having a god-king as her father. He only sighed, flipping a corkscrew wrench open and shut.
"I have tried. The practice only continued evolving. It seemed as though every time I'd look back, my higher beings would find an entirely new method of injuring each other for the sake of honor. The best I could do was make actual murder illegal. The duel codes are theirs, not mine."
"But they're your child! Isn't this-- endangerment of a royal, or something?"
"... Have you come to ask me to have this baron arrested for treason?"
Hornet seemed to consider it. Hollow held her shoulder and made their dissent wildly clear. Just as well. There wasn’t much he could do with any legal precedent while nothing had actually happened yet.
"...No, no, that's not why we're here. We're searching for some technicality to get out of this. There is always some technicality with your people, no matter what they speak of honor," Hornet accused.
He thought back on what he knew, from the more famous duels that had once set the court on its ear. "Have there been any attempts at peace?"
"Hollow apologized. The baron did not accept."
"... An apology was not sufficient for… keeping his child off another one at a picnic?"
"He actually took it as another slight."
"What was his name, again?"
His children looked at each other, uncomfortably. Great.
"... I suppose it doesn't actually matter. Someone like that may care very little for their social bearings. Either that, or I suspect he's already on some downslide, having the gall to pull a stunt like this." The king wondered idly what this person's ancestors had once done to earn the ennobling he and many like him now squandered. Perhaps they'd made some agricultural discovery. Maybe they’d invented the railroads now used for the trams. It hardly mattered, now.
"There's also the little matter of Hollow never actually having said anything to this fool. I spoke to him, so I am responsible for the insult, not them."
"Ah. Now this makes sense."
" Father!"
Her outrage got Hollow to look steadfastly away, shoulders shaking slightly. Silent laughter.
(He'd later admit to his Root how that sort of sight still did things to his heart, even so many years later. She'd remind him how it has actually been no time at all, in the scope of their lives.)
"I only meant," the king held his two free hands up, placating, "That if he wanted to issue a public challenge, Hollow was the safer bet. They were born and raised here, and ought to know Hallownest customs. Choosing them would better ensure his own safety. You know how Deepnest still has a reputation among our people, despite your stepmother’s ongoing efforts to campaign otherwise."
"He thought I'd kill him, and knew Hollow wouldn't." She all but hissed the revelation through her fangs. "And you believe the differences in our homelands to be the true reason for that?"
It was a challenge more than a question. One most would shy away from. He might have, once, but there was little to be gained in denying his children's reputations. Whether that'd be shy, gentle Hollow, or fierce, intrepid Hornet.
"... No," he admitted, and put the tool down. "Not fully. Either way, there is one more piece of advice I can offer you."
"And that is?" Hornet asked, and the king looked only at Hollow.
"Delope. Refuse to raise your blade with the intent to harm your opponent. Few who issue challenges are actually at peace with the idea of being injured. Let him strike your nail, and then let it fall. A disarmament is just as much an opportunity to concede as blood drawn."
They'd both fallen back into old habits, at his speech. The king standing tall with his hands clasped behind him, the would-be Hollow Knight at rigid attention. It was enough to get the king to force himself to relax his stance.
"... This is not a command. It is only what counsel I have for you, barring the failure of your secondaries to establish peace.” He tried to gentle his voice, but the same tone only came out minutely quieter. In truth, the king would bet that Hollow would have thrown the fight even without knowing the practice had a name.
"And if he refuses the opportunity to spare them? They could actually be harmed, then." Hornet looked nearly battle ready at the very idea .
"There is little out there with any ability to cause your sibling real harm. You both have the advantage of your focus training and abundant soul reserves, things ordinary bugs do not. Either way, I understand it's customary these days to have a medic onsite."
"A sworn healer who'd agree to aid in two bugs harming each other?"
"At least two. There have been cases where the secondaries argue so harshly, they too become honor-bound to duel in tandem with the initial foes."
Hornet gaped. Hollow was looking at her.
"... I believe the healer turns their back on the action. For plausible deniability."
“You have got to be--” The king cleared his throat before she could finish, foreseeing the swear word.
"Where is this taking place?" He asked.
"Above the city, at the Blue Lake."
He hummed. Neutral ground, no guards to see. Although none of that would protect the baron from the consequences once he returned home, should Hollow come to any harm. From society or from him.
"And what if we just don't show up?" Hornet suggested.
"I imagine the both of you will be hearing about it for the next several years. This sort of thing can mark a person as unreliable, or a coward, at best." He had the sense to sound apologetic.
"You're telling me that after everything we are, and what we put up with, this could make us pariahs. What sort of backwards-- " Hollow stopped Hornet from continuing with a hand on her shoulder. They looked between the two, and nodded once, resolute. Not for the first time, the Pale King wished he could sense what they were thinking, or anything at all from them. He hoped they were as unafraid as they came across.
"...Of course. Do what you believe is right, and you'll do the kingdom proud. Be clever." He nods back.
"Hollow--" Hornet only received a pat on the shoulder before they exited. She made to follow them, but hesitated at the door.
"...Go on, then, ask." The king spoke first.
"If you know I have a question, why not just give me a response?" She shot back.
"I think you have a question. No one can truthfully claim to know any other person in their entirety."
She still looked annoyed, but relented, voice quiet. "Will they come out of this alright?"
He paused. Flickered quickly through a thousand possible futures. Could retain relatively little information at once.
"Your sibling will survive the day. No possibility exists in which they do not," he assured.
"That is not what I asked." Foresight or no, she always managed to surprise him. His wings twitched beneath his robes, imperceptible.
"...Ah. That is... not something it is within my power to know," he admitted.
Hornet scoffed, and trailed off after her sibling, leaving him to his work.
After a few seconds, the king startled with a realization like he'd been slapped. Then, in a manner profoundly unbefitting of royalty, he kicked right off his chair and sprinted to the door to call after her.
" Hornet!"
It was unexpected enough that she jumped a good foot off the ground, and then whipped back around to stare at him from across the hall.
"What?!"
He took a breath.
"... Your stepmother absolutely can not find out about this," he said, gravely serious.
Hornet nodded, equally solemn. The two never agreed on anything, but avoiding the ire of the king's lovely wife was a goal they both often shared.
Hollow knew there'd be no way that Hornet wouldn't try to show up to the Blue Lake. But if they had any choice in the matter, they would not risk her. They thought they'd been clever by climbing out of a palace skylight, and hiding on the roof to draft their message.
A needle tip suddenly embedded into the wall a few scant inches away from their face made them question their decision to try and outmaneuver her with anything involving agility. She flew herself up and alighted near them, re-sheathing her weapon in one quick motion. The little show-off.
(They could at least be somewhat thankful in general that she'd gotten so good at that. There had been a lot of crashing into walls and retainers in the earlier days.)
"You have to be up early. Why aren't you resting?" Her tone definitely suggested suspicion. They kept still, figuring trying to cover their writing would just look more incriminating. She noticed it anyway.
"... Dryya, then? Even if your missive can reach her in time, she's no peacemaker. Are you going on the assumption that having a Great Knight as your second will scare him into dropping the duel?"
Perceptive as always. They didn't move, neither wanting to affirm nor show the bit of guilt they felt.
"It'd be a good plan, but she's just as zealous about the 'glories of combat' as Ogrim. And do not forget that the Five are as sworn to your protection as they are to your parents. She'd be oath-bound to defend you, should you come to any harm. None of them would hesitate to kill someone in your name," she spoke matter-of-factly.
Hollow crumpled the letter, letting it litter the roof. Hornet sighed harshly.
"This is ridiculous. Let me do this in your stead. I don't intend to kill or die for any recursive definition of 'honor' your people hold. But I also won't hesitate to remind a fool of his place." She stood calm and unharried, though her voice left no room to doubt her anger. Hollow shook their head, once. They knew she'd respect their decision, even if she did not agree with it. Not because they were her elder, and certainly not out of any deference for some sort of superior. Just because it would be theirs.
Though that wouldn't stop her from making her own decisions known. "Then I will be there, at dawn, as your second. You have my word that I will not let it escalate into… a double duel, I guess."
They only huffed. That was better than nothing, at least. They doubted whoever she spoke with would want to challenge the princess of spiders by their own volition.
"I still don't see why you find it necessary to do this yourself. It had not been your fault. Everyone at that picnic could attest to that, even the children. You're only caught up in it because the baron had been too much of a coward to challenge me. I am the cause of the ridiculous situation that you now have to fight over, all because I was just foreign enough to not understand the repercussions of meddling. Even the Wyrm could see that."
Her stance did not change, and her voice did not falter. Nothing about her there gave any indication that she thought she spoke anything but pure fact. She really did blame herself. And for a reason like who she was, and what she thought she was not.
What sorts of other burdens did she bear, being daughter to two lands, but believing she does not fit properly in one of them?
Hollow wasted no time pulling her in for a hug at the thought. They were so much bigger than her that it was actually easier the way they sat and she stood like this. Hornet returned it somewhat, after a bit of a startle. (They wondered what etiquette lesson now made this sort of thing so unexpected. They found they didn't care for it.)
"... Alright, alright. Your forgiveness is noted," she sort of grumbled.
Oh, that wouldn't do. Hornet was usually so good at reading their intentions, but Hollow had long since learned that even the most practical of creatures was not immune to reading their own biases by default, when one's expressions were so often open to interpretation. They shook their head.
" 'No,' what? You don't--"
At once they yanked her in with ease, nuzzling her like she was a spiderling again. She arguably still was, but it's been a long time since she started taking that word as a personal insult.
" What are you-- Hollow! " She shoved at their mask with one hand, the other already on her needle as if she'd actually use it. They'd dare her if they could. "Hollow this is not--" Not proper? Not becoming? Oh, finishing that thought might make her sound so terribly like their father, wouldn't it? "Hollow so help me by every god in every pantheon I WILL end you myself before the baron gets a chance to raise his nail against you." They tucked her under their chin, as she cried indignation.
They weren't sure if the message would be clear. They doubted it quite a bit, actually. With or without a voice, it seemed like such a difficult task to clearly convey to someone that they would always be family, and that they belonged.
But at least this was funny.
She bonked them on the side of the head with the flat side of her needle, the little jerk. They did release her after that. She hopped back and dusted herself off like they'd somehow gotten dirt on her.
Hollow picked up their quill again, and another sheet of paper from the stack they'd brought. They never did just one draft of any message. Their handwriting wasn't the best. They tried to make up for it with careful propriety in their writing. (Hornet was the opposite way. She could and would begin a correspondence with "Listen here", but she'd do so with lovely calligraphy.) They headed this next one with "A Concession."
For all Hornet had been another second of torment away from jabbing them, she still decided to sit close next to them. She peeked over.
"Hm. I suppose that'll help your yield to be interpreted without issue. Only in Hallownest would ever it be in someone's best interest to lose an argument."
Hollow blocked the paper with their other hand, and stared at her. She threw up her hands, and turned a bit to allow them some privacy.
"Fine. You write like you're a thousand years old, anyway."
Early dawn came, and the siblings snuck away from the palace long before anyone was supposed to wake them for the day. It was a short trip to the Blue Lake, and blessedly deserted of anyone who'd recognize them (so, anyone) this early. Despite her promise not to escalate anything, Hornet brought her needle. But one would be hard pressed to ever find her without it, so Hollow's trust stood strong.
They'd been to the Blue Lake before, first when Hornet had wanted to know where all the rain came from. She'd been young enough to quickly get bored of the sight after enough time and a swim, but Hollow had liked it here. A strange sense of peace permeated the shore, and they'd sat a while until everyone decided it was time to leave. They had no idea what kind of magic this place must hold, to have rained so long over such a large city without ever looking disturbed. Or what sort was at play that made the water so blue.
They didn't like that such a place was now apparently commonly used to witness bloodshed. It somehow felt disrespectful. It made them want to get this over with even more quickly. When the young royals arrived, the baron was already waiting with his second, a familiar looking woman with a briefcase that must hold the weapons. They tried to remember her name, but Hornet beat them to it.
"... I believe that might be the lady Emilitia. Has your mother spoken to you about her?" She asked quietly, before they were in earshot. They nodded, the White Lady had indeed spoken of this one. Even for what she was, she apparently particularly exceeded in being both unconcerned with decorum and generally horrid. All sorts of rumors circulated around her. That this lesser noble might choose her as his second already spoke volumes about him.
They were both outcasts, then, or on their way to being. That worried Hollow. These people were born with so much, and the only way to lose everything they had was by living in such a way that spoke of never caring about who they hurt for their own whims. Even if it was sometimes only themselves.
Once close enough, Hollow greeted them with a half bow. They were the only one to bother with any attempt at pleasantries. Hornet stepped forward. "Before anything, the seconds must confer." She declared.
Emilitia laughed, an airy sound like she was satisfied to be the only one that understood some joke. "If you're going to insist on prolonging this with prattle, out with it, then."
Okay, not a fantastic start. But Hornet had promised not to escalate. They watched her take a steadying breath.
"Lady Emilitia. Can we agree that it's in our best interests for all parties to leave here unscathed?" She began.
"So you assume to know the thoughts and intentions of everyone around you, youngling? If the baron finds it in his best interest to retain his honor, and the princeling does not, then the priorities here are clear enough."
"I only mean ," her frustration only rose, "that if honor is the baron's goal, we can compromise on that peaceably. There is no need to resort to such an archaic practice if we can negotiate with civility."
"Oh, of course, of course. The first step to that would be for the challenged to apologize to the challenger for their impertinence."
Hollow already had their letter of concession, and pulled it before their sister could bristle any further.
"Ah-ah!" The baron admonished suddenly, voice brash, "Your insults to me were public. It's only fair that your apology also be public. It's of no use to me here!" Hollow froze, perplexed. Emilitia looked giddy.
"... You would seek to humiliate them in front of people, so to provide a boost of fame to your own name." Hornet spoke slowly and bluntly.
"Watch your tone , spiderling. I only seek to right what's been wronged. Surely the princeling can agree that to be a better alternative to subjecting themself to the terrors of combat?"
The baron wasn't looking at Hollow at all, this entire time. Hollow wasn't sure if he thought them simple, on top of clearly assuming them a coward.
Is this how everyone saw them?
"My sibling does not choose peace out of cowardice . They choose it out of compassion , something you're steadily proving to be completely unearned. You never had any intention of fighting them at all, did you?" Hornet continued, outrage finally winning out.
"If you would like to make a fight of it, I've got the weapons right here." Emilitia patted the briefcase. Hollow could only stand and watch, having no idea what to hope Hornet would say next.
"... Show them to me." She stated.
"The weapons do not come out unless the peace talk has ceased. Do you agree on their behalf that their apology is the better alternative, or not?" Emilitia spoke with that plastered grin lodged in her voice.
"I agree to nothing on my sibling's behalf, they will make their own choice. But as their second, I will not agree to initiate the duel, or initiate any agreements between the challengers, without first seeing the weapons ."
"Such impudence for our laws from a creature of the beasts! Do you wish to challenge me as well? Will you show us clearly what you think of our fine society?" Emilitia challenged, all smug.
" My father is your King . I am the daughter of Hallownest itself, I know our laws. And there are no laws at play here, only egotistical games. You didn't even bring a medic, such a basic tenant of the duel code you act like you follow so literally. Open the damned briefcase, before I brand you both traitors myself!" Hornet's voice rang out in the ambient cavern. Hollow stood tall behind her, hands folded before them, posed demure and assured.
"... I believe I am ready to concede an apology. There is no need to fight," the baron gritted out. Emilitia just scoffed, interrupting him.
"Oh, come off it, you pointless fool." She opened the briefcase. It was empty. "I told you we should at least bring the weapons, but you were so scared to let it get this far. I suppose you were right to be." She shut it again, letting it drop.
"At least this will make a fun story to pass along." Emilitia hummed, apparently done with the situation, simply breezing past everyone to leave.
"You came only for your entertainment , then?" Hornet sniped as she passed.
"What do you care? You won." Hornet nearly started forward, but caught herself.
"My family will not forget this sort of insult." She warned.
"And yet, my pretty tower still awaits me in the city. 'Ta." Emilitia departed.
Hornet's eye turned on the baron. Everyone knew Hornet did not possess the power to strip him of his title, especially since nothing had actually happened. There'd be outrage among the nobility if she tried, even for someone no one particularly liked. But it wouldn't be about him, it'd be about the implication that their own wealth and statuses might be at the mercy of a foreign royal. Hornet was no leader of Hallownest. No matter how Hollow thought she might already deserve to be.
"Get out." She commanded simply.
He did, scurrying. Hollow offered a polite little bow for him on his way out.
The walk back to the palace was silent, while Hornet fumed. What a monumental waste of time, and what disreputable wastes of space . How dare they try and take advantage of her sibling, their own princeling like that. Did status mean nothing unless it was worn by oneself, so one could flaunt it and feel important? There were responsibilities. There were loyalties. That was the way it was supposed to be. But none of it seemed to matter if they could be exploited to serve oneself.
The only vindication here was that none of this had actually been her fault. Neither of the siblings had done wrong, if this had all just been a plot by an avaricious cur in the first place. She wondered if his kid was in on it, or if the youngling had been exploited for a convenient excuse as well.
These sorts of people would have no place at any palace function, or with any ventures in royal business. Hornet would make sure of it. If they didn't care who they insulted, neither would she. She was not princess of Hallownest, but she had enough social status to make a difference. And she already wasn't shy about making her opinions known to the king and queen.
She eyed her sibling. The biggest failure of the day was the possibility that they might feel ashamed. It was their reputation of pacifism that had been taken advantage of. Their kindness. Those things should be protected. Did everyone want a warmongering cynic to one day possibly come to power?
"... Not everyone is like him, you know." She said, looking straight forward as she walked again. "People so greedy don't deserve what they have, and it's a shame they can be so loud. But people love you. You're their princeling. And I love you, for your conviction in your beliefs. You shouldn't worry about this happening again. Gods help them if it does ."
Hornet was often guessing at what was important to say, but that was generally fine so long as she believed it. Hollow did regard her, and signed back something they'd both learned early enough that they could do it quickly. "I love you too."
They were both meant to be woken up soon, so tried to creep into the palace through a side path for the retainers. It seemed they were home free to sneak back off to their separate rooms.
Hornet had leapt back a strong 15 paces at the shock of the White Lady's appearance, when they rounded a corner and found she was just waiting there. Hollow had, of course, frozen to the spot, like maybe their mother couldn't see them if they didn't move.
"Good morning, children. Pray tell me, what either of you have decided to be so dutiful about that you would rise so early without complaint. Nay, without a word to anyone in the palace?" She spoke smoothly, simply watching them. Okay, this was a time for reconnaissance. Ascertain what the enemy knows, do not give anything away beyond what is confirmed.
"We haven't been up long," Hornet spoke, still a little further down the hallway.
"No? Perhaps the retainers were misinformed, then, when a few of them told me they heard the sound of a skylight opening before dawn. The hinges on some of them creak so dreadfully in their age." She eyed them both. Even though she wasn't particularly doing anything, Hornet got the sense of a particularly spiderish threat display about her as she stood tall and still, like something already poised to strike at the wrong movement. "There is little to be found in the way of duty or entertainment in the city at dawn. Indeed, not even the stags would yet be awake. Although, I do suppose all that quiet would make it an ideal time for plans to be made, or, perhaps, scores to be settled."
Shit. Okay, Hornet thought there might still be some hope for damage control.
"We just-- Hollow wait, " she could not dash forward fast enough to stop them from retrieving the concession they'd written from within their cloak, and handing it off to the Queen. She glanced between them, unamused, and opened it.
"... Golden child. " Hornet grumbled, glaring at them. They didn't seem particularly sheepish.
A sound, one just as disorientingly out of character as the King skittering to the door and calling after Hornet had been, had them both snapping their faces to the Lady at attention. She had snorted, and a hand now covered the lower half of her face.
"... You two are incorrigible." She handed the letter back to Hollow, and turned to glide off. "Come, now. Make use of your early morning to be punctual about arriving to breakfast."
Hornet looked back and forth between her sibling and retreating stepmother, and demanded Hollow let her see the letter. They knelt to show her:
A Concession
Your lordship, I would like to offer you a formal set of apologies for the injustices wrought against you that I am personally privy to. For the sake of clarity, and of thoroughness, I shall do so here in the form of an itemized list for your perusal.
-I am sorry that you did not possess the skills necessary to read the offering of peace I'd sent you, in the form of the bouquet you received yesterday. I might suggest that, should you ever again find yourself confronted with the Queen's popular favored language, you may ask your courier to translate for you. The one I had deployed for you, for instance, is from a family of mushroom farmers on the city's outskirts, and she had been more than qualified.
-I am sorry for your misunderstanding of our arrangement at the previously lovely picnic we both attended, in that you appeared to think your issued challenge was met with my consent. It is true that I possess no voice like the one you are so fond of, but many in attendance who'd witnessed the commotion are sufficiently aware that I am more than capable of other means of communication, had you waited a single minute for one.
-In addition to that, I am sorry that you presumed to make any decision in the name of an attending royal. If you are not aware of the legal implications involved with an open, public threat to one, I suggest you research the definition of the word "treason", in the event that I decide that your words had, in fact, been a confession of harmful intent against my own safety, or that of my young sister.
-Speaking of Deepnest's princess, I am also very sorry that you found it proper to get into a public argument against a child. I hope your pride finds some consolation in the fact that one so many summers your junior had the wisdom to try to mitigate your outrage by allowing you an exit from the premises, in her generous attempt not to embarrass you further.
-I am also deeply sorry that your small child was forced to bear witness to the legacy they will one day inherit from you, while so very young, and in front of all their friends.
-Finally, know that I am dreadfully sorry for your invitation to a gathering of polite society on royal grounds. I have deduced that such a place is not where you belong, and you can rest assured that such a mistake shall not be made in the future.
Before we discuss this matter any further, I shall give you a moment to think on whether the place you do belong is back in your home, while my sister and I ensure you will never again be bothered by anyone of social note, for they will all want to keep their reputations untarnished by interaction with you after this. Or, if your place is in the dungeon for treachery, should your nail strike true after I have made it perfectly clear that I decline the invitation to duel. I remain a loyal child of your sovereigns, and have sworn as such never to raise a blade against their beloved subjects. That oath holds precedence to every other dictum of honor in the kingdom, as all know me to hold Hallownest dear to my heart.
So, if neither post-duel option is to your fancy, you are more than welcome to drop this whole charade, and then apologize to my sister for causing her worry. If for whatever reason you still seek a fight, she already carries her own needle, and has made it clear to me that she would be more than happy to oblige you herself, in defense of her own honor.
Your devoted servant of the people and offspring of the gods,
Hollow
"... Hollow, holy shit. " Hornet said simply, after reading for a moment. They pinched at her cheek a bit, scolding her for the language.
The White Lady nearly tried to have the letter framed. Instead, it somehow found its way around court a few times, trading hands among the nobility, and lending Hollow a burgeoning reputation beyond their silence and passivity. To say nothing of the reputation it solidified for the baron, who was seldom seen after that.
The hands that first started trading the letter around, after it mysteriously disappeared from Hollow's possession, belonged to the parents of some of Hornet's school friends. Hornet would deny her role in propagating any sort of gossip. But she was never very insistent about it.