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Agnea touched the scar on her arm. It was small and faint, and likely no one would notice unless she pointed it out first, but every time she looked at herself in the mirror, it was all she could see.
She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. She remembered how she got this scar, and it wasn't glamorous or heroic; she'd been showing off a new dance in front of the group, and she missed a step and fell, scraping her arm against a sharp rock. She was no stranger to injury - her calloused feet were proof of that - but in that moment, she had wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and vanish.
Almost she could laugh at herself. She and her companions had faced a wicked god and won, ensuring the dawn, but this mundane scar was that she was fixated on.
"Agnea," came Throné's voice as she sat beside Agnea on the bed. They were something of a couple now, and Throné acted as Agnea's bodyguard as Agnea traveled from town to town to dance. "Is something wrong?"
"Oh, nothing, really," Agnea replied with a weak giggle as she touched her arm again. "Just remembering some things, that's all."
Throné's eyes darted to the scar on Agnea's arm. Agnea remembered too clearly the concern on Throné's face when she had fallen. "It is hurting you again?" Throné asked carefully.
"No, not at all! It's just, well…" Agnea sighed again. "Is it that noticeable…?"
"I wouldn't say that." Throné pressed her hand to Agnea's cheek. "It just so happens I'm very familiar with your body."
Agnea blushed, but she could not help but laugh as well. Throné chuckled too, quiet as it was; now that she was free of the Blacksnakes, despite all the bloodshed, there was a new lightness about her, one that Agnea was relieved to see.
Yet the levity was short-lived as Agnea let her gaze fall. "This isn't even the only scar I have, and it's nothing compared to yours, but it's been bothering me lately and I don't understand…"
Throné was still a moment, and then unfastened her outer corset, and Agnea's eyes went wide as she freed her arms from the sleeves of her blouse and let it fall from her shoulders, baring her torso to the waist. At her side was a particularly ghastly scar, one Agnea had seen many times when they made love. In Winterbloom, Throné had failed to kill the man she called "Father," one of two leaders of the Blacksnakes, and that scar was a reminder.
"Scars are memories, of regrets and humiliation," Throné whispered, laying her hand over the scar on Agnea's arm. "You're right, I do have more scars than you, but that doesn't make yours any less painful." She brought Agnea's arm to her lips, and pressed her lips to the scar.
Agnea's heart skipped a beat. "T-Throné?" she stammered.
A faint smile crossed Throné's lips. "You're beautiful, Agnea. Nothing will change that."
Carefully Agnea pressed her own hand to the scar at Throné's side, and she heard Throné's breath hitch. A part of her felt as if she was seeing this scar for the first time; during sex they didn't really speak of their scars. Following Throné's lead, she lowered herself to kiss that scar, and felt the warmth of Throné's skin against her lips. She then slipped behind Throné, and over Throné's back were countless whip-like scars, and she traced her fingers over a particularly long one that ran from Throné's hip to her shoulder. The life of a Blacksnakes thief was a brutal one, Throné had once told Agnea.
"You're beautiful too, Throné," Agnea muttered against Throné's back, brushing her lips against another scar. "The strongest, most elegant woman I know, and you're free now…"
Throné chuckled in reply, a low, dark sound that sent shivers down Agnea's spine. "I've never met anyone braver than you. Don't be ashamed of your scars."
Agnea wrapped her arms around Throné's waist from behind, and as Throné again touched the scar on Agnea's arm, Agnea planted a gentle kiss on the back of her neck. Even if their scars never faded, there would always be a dawn waiting for them.