Chapter Text
Their horns couldn't fit inside the bellhome, and it was better for them to not have seen her 'doctor''s work anyway. They sniff her stomach, her guts' smell still lingers around it. A mix of blood, metal and that distinctive odour the crying vines had. They poke at it, the stitches too fresh. In a whince of pain, she brushes them off.
“Careful. I'm healed but still sensitive.”
They stand. The soft chimes of bells rise at their feet when they balance themselves on them. The clear sound reminds her too much of the metal needle, and she represses a wave of nausea,
“I can still feel part of this parasite inside, but I think she did a good job getting most of it too.”
Hollow's hand rises to sign, 'Still inside?'
She walks a few steps to get away from the bellhome, and everything it carries. More chimes fill the damped woods,
“A part of it. The embryo is dead. But I guess its vines spread inside me in some ways.”
Her walk is stopped by Hollow's hand blocking her by the stomach. She fights against the urge to push them again,
“Touch all you want, there's nothing for me to worry about any more.”
The knight continue to check for any weird pulse beneath her shell, their hand travelling up and down. They're only showing concern, and that's why she's not trying to sound irritated. Her body still feels uncomfortable, and she would rather not have it touched.
“I do feel something different. I'll tell you if the feeling doesn't leave.”
They nuzzle her neck. The sensation is alright when it's not her trunk. In fact, it's comforting, but she prefers to pat them away,
“Yes, yes. Let's go back to the citadel. We've lost ourselves too much last time.”
Walking all the way back to the foot of Greymoor's mills, they reach for the Bellbeast's station. She tries to dance the familiar melody on her needlolin, but there's a new rigidity in her arms she doesn't recognise. Still, the beast must have deemed the melody good enough, as its head emerges from the pit of bells to jump gleefully before them. Its translucent shell is dry from the exterior's rain, and its warmth is greatly appreciated by Hornet, whose wet cloak still sticks to her arms. She sits on the beast's back, and Hollow quickly follow, hovering above her form. She doesn't comment on it – her sibling's instinctual protective has always been known. Their wet cloak, clinging against the back of her head, is the real annoyance there.
The beast dives inside its tunnels. She's still uneasy. A part of her still feels trapped inside her own body. The tunnels of bells hurt her ears, and she blesses her sibling's cloak that covers the most high pitched notes. The beast leaves them at the station. Hornet sits on the bench nearby. Hollow stay close, but keep an eye on the beast, extending their arm in the hope of touching its snout. If they dared to make a few steps forward, they would have no problem and could pet the beast to their heart's content, but she knows Hollow won't. It would mean getting too far from the bench. No paying more attention to her sibling and the beast, she retrieves her map from her cloak. The citadel could be labyrinthic, even with a map and she would like not to waste time. She scratches her stomach, the sensation still not fully gone,
“We're at the opposite... It's troublesome, but nothing we can do about it.”
Her eyes glance at the left of the bench, where stands proudly the ventrica. She had tried it once, but Hollow don't fit inside. And the simple memory of their woeful face behind the yellow glass while she readied herself to get transported, saddened her. If they had thought of scratching at the glass like a pitiful pet, she's sure they would have done it. She chases away the thought, and jumps from the bench.
“We'll have to climb our way up... Hollow?”
The knight isn't where she expected them to be. The beast looks at her joyfully, scratching the bells with its paw. She turns around, and finds her sibling at the other side of the bench, their blade stuck on something on the ceiling.
With a loud thud, a plate opens, low enough for her to jump on it. To where it's heading, the large pipe must reach the whispering vaults.
“Oh. Maybe it'll save us time. Nice find.”
Without further ado, the spider jumps and climbs the plate, head first into the darkness inside. Dusty. Air must circulate poorly inside these pipes but at least there are no cracks that let the burning steam in. The end seems nowhere in sight. Her eyes naturally turn back to the light, where her sibling is still waiting.
“Can you crawl inside?”
In place of an answer, they climb. They merely have to raise their arm to reach the pipe. Her hands grab their horns to help them up. Surprisingly, they fit inside, even though barely.
“Will it be fine if we take the pipe? We can take the normal road, I don't mind.”
They try to nod but their head get stuck on the walls of the pipe. Instead, they sign a short 'I'm fine' and reach Hornet. Cautiously, they walk down.
She never considered herself claustrophobic, but dread dampens her forehead. She had been feeling worse since they reached the citadel, but now was not the time to lament or worse, worry Hollow. She'll fight against the feeling, and ask them for a short break once they have left the pipe. But her mind grows hazy, and the pipe seems not to end at all. Her feet stop against her will. Maybe she should take a break now. Something slides on her back.
Vines spread and catch her body, blocking her inside the conduit. Despite the narrow girth of the pipe, Hollow still manages to grab her and pull her below them, afraid she'd been victim of a surprise attack. There's first fear of an insect coming from outside the pipe, and second the one that her operation didn't work and that the parasite inside her hatched. Both fears are cleared when the inside of pipe stays silents. She doesn't feel the parasite's clear presence inside, and not much happens beyond the vines.
Her sibling above her, the fear quickly fades, their weight bringing her some stability. Once calmed down, the both of them, Hornet try to assess the situation. She understands the vines come from her own shell, growing out of her back. Her hand reaches them. She touches the base, and feels the sensation of her skin being touched, clearing all doubt she may still have. She sighs, and pets one of Hollow's horns,
“Well, it seems I have tentacles now too.”
They move against her hand. Their eyes are kept on her, encouraging her to continue,
“I guess this is why I felt so uneasy,” she touches one of her vines. Shyly, it giggles at the touch, “...these little ones wanted to get out so much.”
The knight follows her example, and tentatively touches one too. They are gifted the same reaction, and it seems to amuse them as they keep poking them. Each touch sends a small pulse to Hornet, but nothing she would describe as painful. Herself is lost in the way her body moves, trying to understand why and how this could happen. Hollow continue to play before creating a small tendril themselves, on their wrist. This catches her attention, and she promptly questions them,
“Hollow, do you 'feel' your tendrils inside yourself, like an additional organ?”
Their attention turns back to her rather than the vine. It hangs in the air, a bit disappointed to not be in their sight any more,
'No. They're made from my body.'
They raise their cloak, revealing the pure black body beneath. 'Touch'. Hornet shifts, with difficulty, she turns on her back to have a better view of their stomach. She places a hand on it. At the beginning, her sibling's shell is rigid, solid like stone. Then, it vibrates and squirms under her palm. Between her fingers, a small tendril grows. She touches the base, and can't find the separation between the squishy surface of the tendril and the hard shell left intact.
“I guess you must use what's inside your body to make them. It must feel really different to how I feel.”
They lean their head on their side.
“For me... It feels like I have a torso inside my own. It moves the same, it fits inside, but it pushes against my shell.”
The vines softly rest on Hollow's shoulders and palpate the torse. There's another ventilation grid above them, and Hornet finally spots the vine that stuck itself inside. She can't get it to move, trapping her inside the pipe. She can move some of them, but not all. She swings one in front of Hollow, it follows her orders with a delay.
“I would rather not have them out of my body all the time, but I can't figure how to get them back inside.”
Hollow's tentacles approach hers, and she's amused to see how thinner their tendrils. The knight wraps one around it, it tickles her at first. She doesn't say anything, letting Hollow study her body, until her tentacle starts to feel too sensitive. She moves it out of the way, the best she can, but the tendril stays attached.
“It feels weirdly intimate. Maybe we shouldn't make them touch.”
Yet, none make any move to retrieve their tentacles. Her patience grows thin,
“I understand that we're both curious about them, but we should find a way for them to retrieve inside me.”
'They're nice.'
“Thank you. I would rather not have them.”
'They're rolling themselves around my tendrils'
“I'm not doing it on purpose.”
She's slightly ashamed not to have total control over them. Thankfully, they don't seem to try to hurt her sibling. Like they have a will of their own, her roots rub against Hollow's tendrils, squeezing the void which shivers as a result. She notices Hollow's shoulders tensing when the shiver hit them. Relieved not to be the only one in an embarrassing situation, she teases them,
“Oh, I didn't expect you to like them so much.”
Hornet lies beneath them. She can't do much, but to look at her own body acting without her consent. Hollow's tendrils curve around her tentacles. They're softer than her shell, and bend under the void. She has to admit, the sensation is pleasant. Their whole length is covered by Hollow's tendrils, it bears the tenderness of a bunch of hugs. And secluded inside a pipe, her knight above her, despite the oddness of the moment, she felt safe. Their tentacles extended, creating a barrier that kept them out of danger. Hollow, weakened by the embrace, lower themselves to rest their head on her shoulder and chest. Their skull acts as a shield, while their strength is temporarily diminished.
Gradually, the feelings in her vines become more vibrant. At first, it felt like the touch of a finger, she simply felt like she was stroking their tendril with her claw. Only the texture of the appendage could be felt, before their chill finally smitten her tentacles. The quiet respiration of her sibling tickled her chin. If they had been in pain, they would let her know, but she wondered how truly pleasant it really was. Wasn't it like stroking their guts? She could never pet their tentacles much, her hands too small to cover the surface. The few times the knight used them, it was to caress her body. An excessive fondling she appreciated. Penetration was more risky, as she feared void could leak inside her and melt her inside. And even then, she could only take so much of a single tendril. It is the first time she could return their caresses and touch their tendrils fully. And it must be the first time Hollow lean so weakly on her. It sparkles something inside her.
She opens her legs and locks them around their torso, in order to tilt her back upwards and let her vine move more freely. Probably that the circulation got better inside them because of that, because the sensation across her vines grew more intense. Instead of thinking of them as fingers like before, they seemed to be made of a more sensitive area, the inside of a palm, then of an arm, a thigh... Progressively, the whole length became a sensitive organ, as every touch set ablaze. If Hollow's tendrils are this sensitive, she understands why they kept fondling her with theirs. She grows a bit jealous of how it must have felt to slide one inside her.
Their breath quivers and her vine squeezes a tendril. She's getting better at moving them, and her audacity rises again. Focusing on the tentacle she moved before, she repeats the rubbing movement, mistreats the tendril with kindness. Now that her mind has grown accustomed, she tries to move two of them at the same time. It takes her a few tries, but the way Hollow's shoulder contract against her is worth it. They burry their face in the crook of her neck, their horns scratch the pipe above them,
“Nice to see you enjoy yourself.”
She's putting a facade, to hide how much pleasure she gets from it too. She slowly rocks her hips against them, even though her vines already provide her with plenty of stimulation. One by one, she takes control of all the vines that before showed so much disobedience, and moved against her will. It's Hollow's turn to squeeze their tendrils around their vines, and the pressure makes her head roll back. Her ragged breath condensates on the metal pipe. Pure greed compels her to catch more than one tendril by vine, compensating their lesser girth by their number. She wants to please them. After all this time, she had found both a weakness and the weapon to press against them. She would be foolish to dismiss it, and her tentacles constrict theirs.
Hollow follow the rolls of her hips, rocking their torso accordingly. It puts her on the edge. To stay silent, she bits down on their horn, and tries to muffle herself the best she can. She feels Hollow's hand grabbing the back of her head. Their tendrils shiver on all of their length, bruising her vines in return. Small spikes run on their surface, the result of the void hardening after a quick change. But just as quickly as the spikes appeared, they vanish, and the tendrils return to their smooth surface. Meanwhile, her vines tossed around, twisted in bundle of spiky tendrils, before turning limp too. Her maw releases the knight's horn, a string of saliva still connects them.
It takes a long minute before both's respirations resume to normal. Hollow's snout tickles her neck, she presses hers against their forehead, and sighs,
“We've lost a lot of time, we should better find a solution now, and hurry.”
She's exhausted. The surgery had drained her out, and playing with her new body sucked the last ounce of energy she had left. She looks at her vines again, but now with full control. Slowly, she retracts them back inside. The feeling is strange at first, and she's surprised to feel them disappear inside her back, instead of taking place inside like they did before. When they have entirely retracted inside, there's no awkwardness any more, her body feeling like before this whole incident. No longer restricted by her own body, she stands up inside the pipe again. It seems that her roots only needed a bit of exercise for them and Hornet to be used to each other. Hollow's tendrils had disappeared as well, but their worried gaze is still fixated on her chest. Hornet laughs,
“I'm feeling much better though. Guess you had the right intuition to bring me inside that pipe. Unless it was on purpose?”
Hollows tilt their head to avert her gaze. She doesn't believe they planned this, but surely the tentacles must have intrigued them. She turns on her heels to walk deeper inside the dark pipe,
“You win today. But now that I can conjure my own tentacles, you better be careful.”
Hollow feign outrage by poking her back with their face. She laughs quietly again, before leading the way.