Queen Setae hummed an old lullaby softly to her brood as she held them close to her, drinking in the sight and scent of the precious little lives nestled in her forelegs. This was, she knew, probably the last clutch she’d ever have - a bittersweet knowledge, to be sure, but she’d largely come to terms with it by now. Even if her healers hadn’t confirmed that there was little they could do about the curse stripping her of the agelessness that had carried her through so many centuries as a Queen, she could feel it gnawing in her bones. Here, in this dinky little hive-in-exile, she had laid her last contributions to her line.
If her new hive was to avoid withering on the vine, she had to hope that either one of these larvae would develop into a Royal successor, or that they could somehow recruit and convert a suitable young pony into one. True, their location in the Everfree did mean a nearby population of ponies, but that particular option was somewhat iffier - for a variety of reasons - so most of their hopes rested upon her hugful of infants. The emergence of a Royal of any sort was usually a result of an individual nymph’s personality and preferences as they grew, but… most of the changelings who’d accompanied her to this new hive were past their prime, and she couldn’t rely on them to provide eggs, or to undergo conversion to Royal caste either. Both of those things grew more difficult as one aged, after all. Fortunately, there was something she could do rather than just wait and hope. Royal Jelly. If she selected a likely-looking candidate and had them reared on training and Royal Jelly, then it would be practically guaranteed that she would have a successor. It would take some of the mystery out of the nymph’s discovery of their caste, if it was explained to them, but she felt that in their place, she would prefer to know. The concoction was already being cooked up, by her orders, but the selection of her successor remained.
Not realising yet that there was any form of mental difference between the newly hatched larvae at this stage, she based her decision on which larva looked the most distinctive. It would complicate matters somewhat if failing eyesight and scent sensitivity on the part of her or her subordinates led to multiple larvae being fed the Royal Jelly. At least there was indeed such a distinctive larva in the first place - one bearing bands of distinctly purple fluff and grassy green eyes rather than the usual blue tint her hive tended towards. Giving the sleeping infant a nuzzle, she hoped that starting so early would help them to acclimatise to their role. Avoiding spoiling them was a concern - that led to poor rulers - but so was ensuring that they didn’t feel that the crown was a burden.
Waking groggily, White Hat blinked a few times, producing a bemused warble as he realised that he was being embraced. The memories of the last time he’d been awake seeped back into his awareness, the subtle, muted hum-tingle of that connection in his mind leaving no room for doubt. Whatever had happened to land him in this bizarre situation, it hadn’t cleared up like some strange, possibly fevered dream… Despite being in just the sort of comforting embrace he’d longed for during a lot of his time alone, he felt the claws of despair sinking into him. Though he tried, he couldn’t access his power - he could faintly feel it, but he couldn’t call on it. How was he going to get home, when he couldn’t open a portal? Would he ever see his home again? His friends? What must they even think, finding him missing? Having his missing eye restored and a motherly presence he’d never known before wasn’t worth losing everything he had and everyone he cared about. His vision swam, eyes filling with tears as he sniffled. The other fuzzy larvae around him whimpered as they sensed his distress - he felt a twinge of guilt about that, but he didn’t know how to make them feel better.
The sensation of something damp and warm dragging gently across his fluff startled him out of his contemplation, and when he peered up at the source, he beheld the concerned features of the Queen. She crooned softly to him, pausing in her grooming of his little form. Something brushed against his mind, broadcasting comfort to him. Despite the strangeness of the situation, it was helping him to calm down, though he didn’t have a total handle on how it was doing so. He was faintly sure that he should still be freaking out - there was still nothing he could sense around him that could help him get home - but… he realised as his head cleared that there was a better chance of figuring something out if he tried to keep a level head.
Slowly settling, he drew in measured breaths and squeaked up at the mother bug horse in an attempt to convey that he was feeling better. She smiled softly at him, a somehow wistful air to her, and gently set him and his apparent siblings onto the glowmoss-softened ground. The other fluffy larvae nuzzled him and one another as they wigglingly explored their nest area. It was an interesting, if somewhat odd, feeling - both the moss beneath his belly and the fact that he had dropped straight into a family. One which accepted him, no less - should he feel guilty for deceiving them? He hadn’t chosen this… He already felt twinges of guilt for enjoying the warmth and affection while his crew were probably worried about him by now. Was Slug looking for him yet? He supposed he had no real way of knowing whether the flow of time was even consistent between his own world and wherever this was, but it was comforting to think that someone was looking for him.