Molt couldn't watch. He looked away, not caring if Hopper saw his weakness or not. It hardly mattered anyway - the noises told the story perfectly.Â
No, he had to distract himself. Focus on anything, anywhere else.Â
He looked to the rest of the royal family - to the queen, and her young daughter. The queen was cradling the little girl, holding her in her arms and pressing the princess's face to her bosom, shielding her child from the horror, though unable to shield herself.
Molt could only hope it was enough. But he knew better. There wasn't any escape from this. He knew it, the queen knew itâŚ
It didn't matter if you looked or not. You knew what was happening. You knew what Thumper was doing to the prince. The cracking, the crunchingâŚ
Molt turned away from the queen and her daughter, looking at the rest of the colony. The ones in the fancy hats stared in horror, their faces frozen. Most of the common folk hid their faces, shutting their eyes, or - like Molt - tried to focus on anything but the horror show in front of them.Â
And then there was Hopper.
Only Hopper watched on, fully, properly, utterly unmoved. His face was just as stony as it had been before while listening to the Prince. He looked bored, but Molt knew his brother better than that.Â
No, Hopper was taking in every detail.
And there was just the faintest curl of a smile on his lips.Â
Their eyes met for just a moment, a smug, challenging look in Hopperâs glare before he turned his gaze to the royals. He studied them for a long few seconds, then turned his attention back to Molt.
Molt knew what that look meant. He had seen it a thousand times growing up. He had seen it a thousand more times ever since Hopper had formed their gang. Molt knew exactly what it said - what it was specifically saying to him.Â
âWatch this, little brother.â
With a practiced, predatory ease, Hopper loped casually away from Thumper. He turned towards the queen and her daughter, a sway in every step as he approached them.
Neither ant noticed his presence until he was looming over the queen.
She jumped and took a step back from Hopper, but it was too late. All four of his arms descended on her as he sprang forward. The lower pair held the queenâs own arms, trying to pry them apart, while the upperâŚ
He released the queen, shoving her down to the ground. Thora tried to stand, only to be met with Hopperâs foot on her back, pushing her down into the gravel. A few of the council members broke their horrified stupor, trying to come to their queenâs aid, only to stop when Hopper pressed his foot down harder.
âAhh ahh ahh, no. Iâm setting an example.âÂ
Hopper stood there, his foot on the queen, holding something squirming in his arms. Molt couldnât make it out. What was he do-?
Hopper stepped off the queen, satisfied the message had gotten through to the council. With that he turned back, returning to where he had been watching the execution.Â
But he was holding something this time.
In his arms, cradled like a newly-laid egg, was the princess. The tiny girl was hardly bigger than Hopperâs head, but she fought like a hornet trapped in a web. She kicked, she squirmed, she even buzzed her thin, undeveloped wings like she could fly away.
But it did her no good. Hopper didnât even have to adjust how he held her until he lifted her up to look her in the eye. He grinned a wide, toothy grin at the princess as he held her up, looking her over.
That stopped her squirming.
âWhatâs your name, sweetheart?â He cooed at her. âCome on, donât be shy. You can tell Uncle Hopper.â
She stayed silent as she stared at him, eyes wide with fear. And so he squeezed her.
She let out a yelp, and his grin faltered just for a second. But it was long enough.
âA⌠A-aâŚâ she stuttered.
âItâs rude not to tell someone when they ask, princess.â He held her a little closer, his nose nearly touching hers. âNow⌠Tell me.â
Her lip trembled. She swallowed. She finally spoke.
âAâŚA-Atta⌠Princess At-â
âYou know what, I donât care.âÂ
He lowered her, just enough to look over the top of her head, through her small, curled antennae. This time, she didnât squirm, didnât try to free herself. No, she was as still as a stone in his grip, daring only to move her eyes, and barely at that.
Ever since he had grabbed the little princess, Hopper had been slowly, ever so slowly, sidling back to Thumper. The monster was still hard at work, and Molt could only hope the prince had died by now.Â
What was Hopper doing? He wasnât⌠No, no he wouldnât! Not even Hop would be that cruel, surely! He wasnât going to toss the princess toâŚ
Hopper stopped, standing back where he had started.Â
Molt shifted nervously on his feet. Donât do it, Hop. Donât do itâŚ
Hopper met his eye again, before looking back and forth between Thumper and the little princess. He gave each a long, exaggerated stare, before seemingly weighing the little princess.Â
As if he was about to toss her.Â
He was barely half an inch away from Thumper, watching him tear the Prince Consort to more and more pieces. As mangled and brutalized as he was, he was still all too recognizable.Hopper was counting on it.Â
And thatâs when it clicked. Hopper wasnât going to toss her to Thumper.
No, he was going to be far, far crueler.
âI want you to see something, princess. I want you to learn something.â
He spun her around, turning her to face the grizzly scene. Forcing her to see the remains of her father. Forcing her to see his executioner go about his bloody work.
But she wasnât having it. She turned her head away; she shut her eyes as tight as her delicate lids would let her; she even covered her face with her hands and arms, trying to block out the horrific sights and sounds all at once.
âPrincessâŚâ Hopper snarled. He unfurled his upper pair of arms, reaching for her head.
âI want you to see thisâŚâ
He pulled her arms away from her face.
âIâm going to teach you something.â
His hands gripped the sides of her head, forcing her to face forward.
âSomething I want you to remember.â
The tips of his claws latched onto her eyelids, and he pried them open.
And she looked. She took it all in, every horrible sight. Every horrible sound. She took in every moment of the nightmare playing out before her, mere steps away.
âYou see that, sweetheart? Do you see whatâs happening to your daddy?â He crooned in her antenna, holding her in a vice as every part of her trembled.
She was beyond sound, beyond response save for hyperventilating. She was the image of terror, and Hopper was lapping it up.
âThat,â he leaned in even closer, his maw practically touching her pale cheek, âis what happens to people who say ânoâ to me.â
***
So, after over a year, the fourth chapter of "Go Ahead, Take her" is out!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/55676191/chapters/193595046
Aaaand in it Hopper is seen at his worst, something poor Atta had to suffer.
blakekathryn
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