Chapter Text
They blinked half awake sleepily as they were gently rocked back and forth… The feeling was soothing, but the change from their previous stillness had caused sleep to leave them for a short time… It was Pa, humming to them softly in the comforting darkness of their room. Everything is quiet. Everything is safe. Everything is good.
The gentle rhythm of the humming and movement lulls them easily back into a barely conscious state. The soft, steady hum of machinery keeping the palace’s affairs in time, and the quiet clinking on armored feet as guards walk the halls is like a familiar lullaby. The room smells of moss and honey. Lavender and linen. Dim light casts patterned shadows across the walls and floor. Their Pa’s clothes are soft as they lean into him. He smells nice. Quiet, safe, good.
“I love you…” Pa whispers to them gently, “I’m so sorry…” They are too tired to really listen. When they are placed back into their cozy bed and gently kissed on the forehead, they think nothing of it. In the morning, Pa will explain. Just as he always did everything that they didn’t understand. He knew everything. They drift back off into deep sleep without any worry. There is nothing to worry about after all. The last thing they see is the outline of their Pa, quietly watching over them, gently stroking their head.
Ghost wakes up and sighs, staring at the ceiling. A silly dream it was. It had always been. Their Father had never held them. Their Father never answered their questions. Their Father never apologized. That was the way of things. It had never been otherwise. When they were very young, they sometimes told their mother about their dreams, and she would sigh sadly and look off into nothingness. If they thought back far enough, they were sure she used to weep, but they weren’t sure if that was quite a real memory or not. It didn’t matter, and spending their short bit of free time after waking thinking about it served little purpose. They can’t seem to shake the warm feeling that their dream had caused in their mind, however. They lie still a few moments longer, letting their eyes trace the familiar branching cracks in the faded ceiling. Their chest aches faintly with an emotion they can’t quite put a name to…
“I think it’s quite romantic in a way.” The soft, distant voice of Hope comments. Their presence appears in Ghost's mind as easily as their own thoughts did.
“Of course you would.” Ghost retorts, “You think all that sort of thing is.” Hope was a hidden constant of their life. One day, they had suddenly heard their thoughts, and apparently, it was the other way around as well. They were another child. Older than Ghost, but not mean like most of the older children in the palace. Ghost didn’t know why they had some sort of connection, and no one really believed them about hearing anything, so they simply kept Hope’s conversation and company to themselves. They shift to sit up and consider their heavy wardrobe, reluctantly leaving the comforting warmth of their blankets.
Their room is small and rather simple. The walls and floors are pale stone, covered by rugs and embroidered curtains to keep the warmth in. Their window is tall, reaching close to the roof of their tower bedchamber, iron patterns tracing over the rare and expensive glass that kept the world outside. A writing desk is situated so that the one sitting at it could look out if they liked. Their wardrobe and vanity were positioned next to the door, while their bed was opposite. The light the palace itself produced flooded in the window and spread strange patterns across the rugs.
“Well, it is. And I rather think you could do with more of it in your life. You live in a castle! You're supposed to be romantic!” Hope retorts.
“And you live somewhere dark and wet. You are supposed to be all tragic and miserable.” Ghost shoots back, standing up and stretching a little.
“I try to keep some joy in my life, unlike you.” Hope huffs into their mind. Ghost ignores them and heads to their wardrobe, trying to find something presentable that was at least moderately comfortable. They eventually settle on a green, mostly plain cloak. They're still young enough to get away with not wearing much else. They are well aware that this joy is short-lived; long robes and uncomfortable pants will be unavoidable soon… As they dress, they can hear the distant sounds of courtiers and servants, bells rung and wheeled trays clinking. The guards can be heard changing shifts for the day. The smells of polished stone, baked honey, and perfumed cloth float up the stairs to their tower from below. Ghost pauses for a moment to simply listen. The palace mornings always sound so busy and alive, a rhythm that never falls out of tune. They’d listened to it their whole life. Yet somehow they always feel like they aren’t really a part of it at all. They finish closing the clasp of their cloak with a soft sigh, their Father’s emblem glinting garishly in gold.
“What are you doing today?” Hope asks Ghost as they sit at their vanity and begin carefully applying gilded decorations to their antlers. Jewelry for one’s antlers or antenna was a symbol of status. Such delicate objects were often expensive, especially if made of metals.
“Probably more unending lectures.” Ghost replies morosely, “They don’t let me do much else.” They try to keep the decoration minimal. It’s more what the courtiers expect than what they personally like. They much prefer twisted plants and flowers as an ornament. They stare into the eyes of their reflection. They never quite felt like themselves dressed this way, but as it was a court day, they must be presentable. The gold on their antlers feels gaudy, and their cloak, despite being perfectly tailored, doesn’t seem to fit right on them. The ceremonial garb of the royalty of Hallownest feels almost borrowed.
“Have you heard the news out in the city yet?” Hope asks, “That there is going to be a festival? There hasn’t been one since long before we were born!”
Ghost huffs softly to themself. “Why would I hear about such news? Even if I was told I’d never be allowed to go…” They can barely remember the last time they’d left palace grounds… the city above was almost like a fairytale to them. An enormous cavern filled with guided towers and glistening windows, an eternal, gentle rain falling down into the waterways below. The twisting caverns that lead from the Tramways and Stagways ever down till they reached the gleaming palace. The itchy desire to wander beyond the palace grounds was ever constant in the back of Ghost's mind… a yearning for a freedom they did not possess. The wish to SEE.
“Yes! But they say the Royal family will make an appearance, as well as the high court! Aren’t you in the high court? Maybe we could meet!” Their joy is palpable through the link.
Ghost stops thinking up a retort, and freezes slightly. They had not told Hope exactly… where they lay in the high court. Even then, they weren’t sure that it’d be possible to speak to them. “I… don’t even know what you look like. And anyway, they’d never let me speak to you even if I wanted to.” Ghost responds finally.
“You… don’t want to see me…?” Hope says quietly.
“No! I didn’t mean that!” Ghost tells them quickly, “I-I just meant that… the guards would put you in the dungeon for trying to approach anyone from the court. It’s just how it is. And I’m not allowed to talk to anyone, not even here in the palace really.” A silence stretches between their minds.
“Oh…” Hope is quiet, “Couldn’t you sneak away…?”
Ghost sighs. “No. They’d notice, and then I’d never ever leave the palace again till I die all old and miserable. I-I don’t even know if I’m going. No one’s told me it’s happening.” They are quiet. They have to admit they do want to see Hope. A lot. They’d been friends pretty much their whole lives. Maybe… then they’d figure out why they could speak like this. Feel each other from so far away.
Their thinking is interrupted by Hope. “Oh… I’m sorry. You're right, too. About the guards. But even if we can’t meet, we could see each other. Right? That’d be nice,” they offer. They don’t sound as upset as they should be. They should be mad. They would be mad. Especially when they see who Ghost really is…
“I… guess it would.” Ghost responds finally. “We could wear something. To help the other know. That would be fair, I think.”
“It would!” Hope says excitedly, “I could wear red! What sort, I’m not sure, though… my sister will probably wear red! Perhaps I could wear her as a hat!”
That makes Ghost giggle, relieving the thudding guilt somewhat. “That’s silly. You said she’s too big to be a hat anymore.”
“True, but she’ll be with me! Oh! I could wear a red ribbon. Do you think that would be nice?” Ghost does. Most bugs wore shades of gray, green, or black. They had heard red was once popular in the capital, but since the beasts of Deepnest had cut off trade, red dye had become quite uncommon. Not totally impossible to find, though.
“That would work. You’d stand out some. I’d have to choose something not too different from the rest of the court, though. If I went, I would have to look nice.” Ghost is already considering their belongings. “Maybe… I will wear silver. My mother often does, and I would likely be the only one wearing it other than her. They would not ask me why. They know I like her.” Despite only their thoughts being possible to hear through their connection, Ghost can almost feel Hope clapping. It’s a feeling that makes their chest all warm.
“Oh, yes! That’s perfect! Maybe we can never meet, but we can see!”
Ghost sighs. “But I may not be going. I would rather like to. But Father may not allow me. Please don’t be angry if I cannot go.” Ghost is a little worried. Hope was their only true friend after all…
“I know. But we can still plan in case. And if you can’t, you can tell me who your Father is so I can give him dirty looks.” Hope offers cheerfully.
“I wouldn’t do that.” Ghost laughs into their connection, “Someone might think you're trying to cast a spell on him. Then you’d be locked away forever and ever, and where would I be then?”
“Closer to me.” Hope points out humorously.
“True. Don’t, though. Seriously. But… if I ask, and I can go… I’m really excited to get to see you.”
“Me too, I need to go to work now. Speak soon?”
“Speak soon.” Ghost feels their mind quiet, and they stare into their own eyes in the mirror. They really aren’t that good of a friend… are they? Not telling their only friend who they actually are or much about themselves. Hope told them everything. Absolutely everything. Ghost liked to hear about the world outside, but it often sounded like an awfully wet and hungry experience. Their thoughts begin to drift a bit. Perhaps they should paint their mask today…
Before they can think of what pattern or choose a color, though, a soft movement catches their eye. Their room was in a high tower, and other than their door, it was completely sealed. No other bug could be with them. Despite this, Ghost doesn’t quite feel concerned or afraid… only curious. They remain still, trying to catch another silent movement.
Before anything new can happen, however, a loud knock sounds on their heavy shellwood door. The sound breaks them out of their own thoughts and back into the reality of their life. They jump slightly, then breathe. It must just have been their imagination.
“Your majesty? You have been summoned to speak with y-your Father!” The voice of a courtier floats through the door. Ah well. They can’t avoid it. Ghost stands, straightens and smoothes their cloak, then will open the door, giving a light bow to the courtier who came to summon them. They could not respond to any call given to them, having been born without the ability to give voice to their thoughts.
“Ah. You are already prepared for the day, then. That is good. Come with me.” They say returning the bow that was more like a nod. Ghost will exit their room and follow the courtier down the long flight of stairs that leads to their room and into the palace halls, at intervals, lumifly lanterns are gleaming almost like little globes of living stars, though they had never been above ground to see such things.
Soon they begin to pass the proper rooms of the palace. Despite the nerves and annoyance they feel at being summoned first thing today, they cannot help but hope that this meeting is to inform them of the festival. They deeply wish to go, and after all… it would be rather difficult for their Father to explain away their absence as heir to the royal throne. This gives them slight hope. If they were clever, they might be able to convince their Father, as long as he wasn’t already planning to let them go. The hope gives them slightly more of a spring to their step as they follow the courtier down the halls of the shining palace.