Chapter Text
Agnea was exhausted beyond imagination when she and Throné returned to the inn. Unsurprisingly, Castti and Temenos lectured her about leaving alone without telling anyone, until Hikari intervened and said she needed to rest. Fortunately, her wound hadn’t reopened, and Castti did admit she was recovering well enough that likely they would be able to leave Montwise within the next day or two.
Just as dawn was approaching, Agnea awoke from restless dreams, and Throné still slept beside her. When they stayed at inns, Agnea and Throné usually shared a bed while Castti and Ochette shared the other. At first, Throné had kept to the edge of the bed as much as possible while Agnea had worried about disturbing Throné by moving too much in her sleep, but gradually they had grown used to each other’s presence, and no longer did Throné sleep facing away from Agnea.
Her eyes fell upon the dark collar around Throné’s neck, and heat crept to her cheeks. She’d been too careless and reckless last night, and the hurt and worry on Throné’s face was still too clear in her mind. As a thief raised among the cruel Blacksnakes, Throné had suffered countless injuries and Agnea had seen some of those scars with her own eyes, but she was stabbed once and acted like a needy child. That wasn’t fair to Throné, she knew. She touched her injured side, and it didn’t hurt as much.
Beside her Throné stirred but did not yet wake. Agnea’s eyes trailed downward, and she could not help but notice how tightly the fabric of Throné’s nightgown clung to her large breasts. Throné was beautiful and elegant, strong and brave, the kind of sophisticated city woman Agnea wanted to be. But more than that, she wanted to see how Throné’s neck would look without that horrid collar. Knowing how complicated Throné’s feelings toward the ones she called “Father” and “Mother” were, Agnea would never say this out loud, but she hated them for binding Throné so cruelly to them.
Almost without thinking she drew closer to Throné, feeling Throné’s gentle warmth wash over her. At the end of that journey for freedom, no matter how stained in blood Throné’s hands were, Agnea wanted to greet her with a smile. Maybe she was still just a foolish, ignorant girl from a backwater village with a fake city accent, but she could at least do that much for Throné. To bring hope and smiles to those around her was why she was a dancer like her mother, after all. She raised her gaze, and imagined a smile on Throné’s beautiful lips.
The following morning, the eight of them shared breakfast in the same room. Throné sat beside Agnea on the edge of the bed, and although Agnea longed to close the gap between them, she tried to content herself with just being near Throné like this. She’d pushed her luck too far last night, clinging to Throné so desperately. She glanced at Throné out of the corner of her eye, and Throné smiled gently at her, and her cheeks grew warm.
As they ate, Throné shared what she had learned from Harvey’s lecture. “He said he may be leaving unexpectedly in the next few days,” she finished.
“So we don’t have much time left,” Temenos rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But isn’t it unusual for a professor to take time off so suddenly, barring a medical or family emergency? Especially as he did not provide an exact date.”
“Osvald, when you confronted that corrupt captain in Conning Creek and he told you of Harvey’s whereabouts, you worried it may be a trap, right?” Castti asked.
“That’s correct,” Osvald replied with a nod. “I cannot imagine Harvey would’ve allowed Stenvar to live otherwise. However, that raises further questions - it is as if he expected me to escape Frigit Isle in pursuit of him.”
Hikari frowned. “Do you believe he knows you are here in Montwise?”
“I… cannot say. I am presumed deceased following my escape from Frigit Isle, after all.”
Agnea felt her chest tighten at those words. What did Osvald intend after he obtained his revenge? She realized she had never asked, too afraid of the answer.
Beside him Partitio laid a hand on Osvald’s arm. “What do you wanna do now?”
Osvald inhaled deeply. “Trap or not, I still intend to pursue Harvey.” He glanced at Agnea, his stone face betraying a hint of worry. “How are you feeling…?”
“I’m feeling a lot better.” Agnea tried to smile. “As Throné and Temenos said, you might not have any time left to wait.”
“I’ll come with you, Pops!” Ochette exclaimed and Mahina hooted in agreement. “Someone needs to keep you safe.”
“Same here, partner!” Partitio added as he flung his arm around Osvald’s shoulders.
Much to Agnea’s surprise, a faint blush came upon Osvald’s face. “Are you certain? Harvey’s magic is as powerful as mine. It will be dangerous.”
“I will accompany you as well, to treat any injuries,” Castti said. “What about the rest of you?”
“I shall remain here to keep an eye on our restless lamb,” Temenos said, casting a pointed smirk in Agnea’s direction while Throné and Hikari nodded in agreement, much to her chagrin.
“I suppose I did promise I would not go alone,” Osvald muttered with the slightest of smiles. “Thank you all, truly.”
“Please be safe, all of you,” Agnea said, and she hoped she managed to keep the fear and worry out of her voice.
The group soon finished breakfast, and Partitio and Ochette both gave Agnea a hug before leaving with Osvald and Castti. It was a strange feeling, she thought, seeing them off with a smile as they left to pursue revenge, a pursuit more likely than not to leave Harvey dead. But Osvald wasn’t alone, and when the four of them returned, Agnea planned to welcome them back with a smile too.
Throné touched Agnea’s shoulder. “Would you like me to help you change out of your nightgown?” she asked carefully.
Agnea nodded, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious. “I’d like to wear my mother’s dress today.”
Hikari and Temenos left the room to give them privacy, and once alone together, Throné helped remove Agnea’s nightgown. Truth be told, Agnea was recovered enough to dress herself without pain or assistance, but she saw no reason to refuse Throné’s offer of help. Bandages still circled her midsection, and when they were changed, she still couldn’t bring herself to look at the wound itself, of the scar it would likely leave behind.
As Agnea stood nearly nude before her, Throné pressed a gentle hand to the bandages. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, her voice a low whisper.
“No, not really,” Agnea replied, equally quiet, and heat began to gather in the pit of her belly.
“That’s good to hear.” A faint smile graced Throné’s lips. “I’d like to see you dance again soon.”
The gentleness of Throné’s hands was matched only by the heat deep within Agnea. As Throné helped her put on a slip, her fingers brushed against Agnea’s bare skin with the lightest of touches, and yet where she touched felt as if on fire. Throné was close, too close, and the scent of her floral perfume - a rare indulgence, she once told Agnea - washed over Agnea, and Agnea had never noticed how long and thick her eyelashes were before.
Swallowing dryly, she guided Throné’s hands on how to fasten her layered orange skirt around her waist, and she had missed this weight like a gentle embrace around her thighs and hips. Almost on instinct, she crossed her arms over her breasts barely covered by her slip as Throné finished the final clasp of her skirt. They had bathed nude together during their travels, with Ochette and Castti too, but half-dressed like this, she’d never felt so vulnerable in front of Throné, and she found she didn’t dislike it.
She knew how people sometimes looked at her when she danced, gazes full of lust and longing. With Throné, she hoped to see such longing in that stormy gaze.
The two of them remained silent as Throné now helped Agnea’s arms through the thin white straps of her corset-styled bodice, and pressed the front of it to her chest. It was tight, of course, and every curve of the firm material felt familiar against her body. Throné fastened the back of it and began to carefully lace it tightly, and the brush of her fingertips against exposed skin sent shivers down Agnea’s spine. Throné was methodical in ensuring the laces were tied properly, almost teasingly and agonizingly so, and that heat coiling within Agnea threated to burst free. She could spend an eternity like this, with Throné’s attention focused solely on her.
“Now, for the final touch,” Throné said as she took a step back. She retrieved the teal shawl from Agnea’s belongings and bent to tie it around Agnea’s hips, and her knuckles brushed against the curve of Agnea’s thigh. Agnea took in a deep breath in hopes of calming herself, and still she could hear the beating of her heart.
When Throné finished, Agnea did a brief, slow twirl, and delighted in the familiar feeling of how her skirt ruffled. Nothing quite fit her the way her mother’s beloved dress did. She had worn this dress while dancing upon the stage of Gil’s tavern, and upon Tropu’hopu’s floating stage as Giselle’s Traveling Troupe watched. With this dress, someday she would even dance at the Grand Gala to her “Song of Hope,” and perhaps Throné would be in the audience watching her as well.
“You look beautiful, Agnea,” Throné said, and again a small smile crossed her lovely lips.
“Why, thank you!” Agnea exclaimed, her face warm. When Throné smiled at her like that, faint as it was, she could almost forget all that had happened these past few days.
The smile vanished from Throné’s lips, and gently she touched Agnea’s face. Neither spoke, and Agnea remained still as Throné caressed her cheek with a hand both warm and calloused. Throné watched her closely, dark eyes revealing nothing, and Agnea’s throat went dry. Throné was a thief, an assassin, and she could steal Agnea’s life in the blink of an eye. She had said so as much when first they met. Maybe Agnea should’ve been frightened of Throné. She touched Throné’s hand and guided it to her throat, and those elegant, deadly fingers curled around her neck, but not squeezing. Perhaps Throné could even feel how her pulse raced.
A knock at the door caught their attention, and Throné went to the door, allowing Hikari and Temenos back into the room. For a while, the four of them spoke of small, insignificant things to keep from worrying about Osvald and the others. When they finally left this town, they would return to the western continent and head to Wellgrove, Crackridge, Sai, and beyond. Before her mother had passed away, although they had traveled all around the Leaflands, Harborlands, and Wildlands, they had rarely ventured south into Hinoeuma because of all the political strife. Before meeting Giselle, Agnea hadn’t even known her mother had ever traveled to those desert lands, and thus she hoped to learn more of her mother in Sai.
Agnea’s mind began to wander as the others continued to converse, and stole glances at the closed door. It hadn’t been that long since Osvald and the others left to pursue Harvey, she told herself, so it was foolish to expect them back so soon. Yet that did nothing to ease her worries.
“What’s wrong, Agnea?” Hikari asked gently.
She nearly jumped out of her skin. “O-Oh, um…” she stammered, and then sighed. “Waiting can be difficult, huh…?”
“Feeling restless, are we?” Temenos said in a teasing tone. “But I will admit I feel much the same.”
“If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps some fresh air might do you good?” Throné said, laying a hand on Agnea’s shoulder.
Agnea touched her side, but felt only the faintest of aches. “Yes, I’d love to!”
“Well, if Throné goes with you, then I have no objections,” Hikari said.
Temenos smirked. “Yes, I suppose we can trust Throné to watch over our restless lamb.”
Agnea could not help but groan; she was never going to live that down, was she? But the eight of them were reckless in their own ways, so she couldn’t blame them for worrying so much.
They left the inn together, with Hikari heading for the fighting arena to check on Zeto and the others while Temenos planned to replenish their traveling provisions, and thus soon enough Agnea was alone with Throné. She fidgeted; there was still much they had to discuss, but she had no idea where to begin, and thus remained silent. Much to surprise, however, Throné took her hand into hers.
“It’s a pleasant day, isn’t it?” Throné said, a faint tremble to her voice. “Walking around gently will help you rebuild strength.”
“R-Right, of course!” Agnea replied with an awkward smile. It was rare for Throné to be so affectionate, but there was hesitation in that affection, Agnea could not help but notice. Was Throné still bothered by Agnea’s tearful plea from last night? If so, Agnea felt guilty about it, but she’d meant what she said. No matter what blood was shed or nightmares suffered, she wanted to stay with Throné.
They shared few words as they walked the town streets together, and Agnea let her fingers lace with Throné’s, squeezing gently. Unexpectedly, her heart felt lighter than it had these past few days. When her mother had passed away, she thought she’d never be happy again. Yet the sun kept rising, and little by little she learned to smile again. Sometimes it hurt to dance, especially when seeing the grief on her father’s face, and other times she remembered her mother more easily when dancing. A new dawn always came, whether one was ready or not. Her father had told her and Pala that, not so long after their mother’s passing.
She glanced at Throné out of the corner of her eye, just as Throné glanced down at her, and her cheeks grew warm. A shadow still lingered, but the scent of blood didn’t seem so strong now.
Eventually they came to the other end of Montwise, where the river marked the boundary of town. A stone bridge lay ahead of them, and farther beyond was that abandoned church where Throné had confronted Father, and on this bridge Throné had taken a life to save Agnea’s. Throné took her hand from Agnea’s and stepped closer to the bridge, and she touched the collar at her throat. “We haven’t really discussed that night, have we?” she said after a moment’s pause.
“No, we haven’t,” Agnea whispered, and she was relieved there were no other townspeople around. “But we should.”
Throné turned to face Agnea, her gaze hard as steel. “Were you frightened when I killed that man?”
“Yes,” Agnea answered honestly, and willed herself to meet Throné’s gaze. She laid her hand over her chest, feeling the beat of her heart.
“I don’t regret it, you know. I don’t regret killing him or Father. But….”
“But what, Throné?”
Throné was quiet another moment longer, and then sighed deeply. “But I regret you were hurt. That man was only after me. In shielding me, you could’ve been killed.”
Agnea felt a phantom pain in her side briefly, and saw all that blood again. “But you saved me. All of you did.”
“But it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” Throné stared down at her hands, and the resolve in her gaze wavered. “You saw how I murdered that man. You saw all that blood. That’s the kind of woman I am. Can you truly say you still want to be with me?”
“Yes,” Agnea answered without hesitation.
Throné’s eyes went wide, and both hope and fear warred across her face. Again she touched that poisoned collar, and anyone but Agnea might’ve missed the faint quiver of her fingers. “I’m rather selfish too. I’m a thief - I take what I want.”
Agnea took a step closer. “I don’t think it’s selfish to hope for freedom.”
“You know that isn’t the only thing I mean,” Throné scoffed, but not maliciously. “Tell me, what is it that you want?”
“It’s as I said earlier - I want to be with you and help you smile.”
Another heartbeat passed between them, and Throné laughed, a low, dark laugh, but not unkind. A familiar smirk came upon her lips, and she fixed Agnea with a challenging gaze. “You’re an overly idealistic girl, aren’t you? Even after being stabbed and almost dying.”
“I won’t lie, I’m still a little scared. The way that man attacked us, and… and you killing him…” Agnea hesitated, and remembered what Hikari and Temenos had told her a few nights ago. “But I was relieved too that you weren’t hurt. If you’re selfish, then so am I. I want to trust you, Throné, and if you think you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you too.”
Again Throné chuckled, and she pressed her hand to Agnea’s cheek. “I’ll have to kill again to obtain the second key. Someone else might come after us, like another Snowhare or a fellow Blacksnake. If they get in my way, I won’t hesitate. It’ll be dangerous.”
Agnea cradled Throné’s hand against her cheek. “If I was afraid of danger, I never would’ve met you.”
“I’ve never met anyone more stubborn.” Throné sighed again, but her smile remained true. “Have I truly stolen your heart?”
“Well, you are a thief, aren’t you?”
“Then I suppose you won’t mind if I steal a little more, will you…?”
Before Agnea could reply, Throné’s lips were on hers. She’d dreamed of this moment, fantasized in the darkest hours of the night. She wrapped her arms around Throné’s back to deepen the kiss, delighting in the warmth of Throné’s soft lips on hers. Against her chest she felt Throné’s racing heart; she couldn’t forget those who had died, those whose blood had been shed, but still she and Throné lived, and that had to count for something.
Throné drew Agnea into her arms, and threaded her fingers through Agnea’s hair. “The stench of blood corrupts, settling in your lungs like rot,” she said quietly. “And I’m afraid of dragging you down into that filthy darkness with me. But Father and Mother raised me to be a thief, so if there’s something I want, I’ll take it.”
“Like freedom?”
“Yes.” Throné released Agnea and gripped her shoulders. “And hope, even for one like me.”
Agnea carefully touched the collar around Throné’s neck, drawing her fingers along the dark material. For as lowly as Throné thought of herself, Agnea had never met anyone who strived more strongly for hope. “I love you, Throné,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet Throné’s. “All of you, both your light and your darkness.”
Throné’s eyes began to water, and again she bent to kiss Agnea. Wanting to savor the taste of Throné’s lips, Agnea wrapped her arms tightly around Throné, and Throné’s body felt so very right against hers. She’d always liked that Throné was a little bit taller than her.
When they broke the kiss, Agnea rested her forehead against Throné’s shoulder. “I’m still a little sad too about losing that new dress, though,” she said softly.
Throné chuckled quietly as she laid her hand on Agnea’s hair. “When we reach Wellgrove, I’ll get you a new dress. I hear the dancer’s guild has only the best.”
Agnea grinned. “I can’t wait!”
A somber air lingered over the eight of them the first night they slept outside Montwise. Alone, Osvald might’ve headed to the New Delsta anchorage without rest, and he spoke little to the others. A fire crackled, and the rest of them said little as well. Agnea rested her head against Throné’s shoulder, and she shut her eyes tightly, feeling the sting of tears. When Osvald and the others had returned to the inn, she’d been frightened by the grief and anguish in his expression and the sight of his bloody and split knuckles; his daughter was alive, but had looked upon him as a stranger, believing that cruel Harvey to be her real father. Agnea could scarcely imagine such trauma.
The mood remained heavy as the group made their way to the anchorage where the Grand Terry was docked, and upon boarding, Agnea noted that Partitio often kept close to Osvald, and Osvald seemed to find comfort in his company. Castti still regularly checked her wounded side, concerned about the burden of traveling so quickly, but there was no pain, and the group was making better time than expected. The group set sail for the Crackridge anchorage, hoping to reach Gravell soon and save Elena from Harvey’s twisted experiments.
When night fell after their first day at sea, Agnea and Throné stood together at the railing of the Grand Terry as Agnea held Throné’s arm tightly. The seas were calm, gently reflecting the stars dotting the night sky. Agnea shivered, and Throné laid her free hand on her hair. “How are you feeling?” Throné asked, breaking the silence.
Agnea let out a heavy sigh. “I… just don’t understand. How can Harvey hurt Osvald so much…?”
“Such cruelty isn’t so uncommon, unfortunately.” Yet Throné smiled weakly. “Though, I meant your injury. Is there pain? Did we push you too hard?”
“Oh, no, not at all!” Agnea replied quickly. “Castti’s medicine and Temenos’ healing helped a lot. And besides, it’s nowhere as bad as what the rest of you have been through.”
Throné frowned. “Don’t belittle your own pain like that. You almost died.”
“But we need to save Elena quickly, so I can’t be a burden!”
“And you’ll never be a burden. You’re kind, Agnea, always thinking of others, but you should think about yourself too sometimes.”
“You’re kind too,” Agnea said firmly.
“Am I?” Throné rested her head against Agnea’s. “Growing up in the Blacksnakes, I’ve dealt with men like Harvey, even killing them when I was ordered to. I’ve seen how rotten this world can be. Living in the shadows, stealing and cleaning, that was my world. I couldn’t imagine anything else.”
“Then what made you want to be free of all that?”
Throné smiled grimly. “Do you truly wish to know?”
Agnea was quiet a moment. Throné had shared with her the truth of Father and her birth mother, trusting her with such a tragic tale. Painful as it was, she wanted to better understand Throné. “Yes,” she answered at last.
“In the Blacksnakes, I had three people I could consider friends - Pirro, Scaracci, and Donnie. During a mission, things went wrong and Donnie was killed.” Throné paused a moment, and Agnea saw how her jaw trembled. “Later, Father told me Scaracci had betrayed us to our target and that my next mission was to eliminate them both. So I infiltrated the target’s manor, and found both him and Scaracci already dead. Pirro had killed them.”
Agnea remained silent, waiting patiently for Throné to continue.
Throné touched the collar at her throat. “Pirro figured out the truth - there was no traitor. Father had told him I was traitor, and for Scaracci, it was Pirro. Father and Mother wanted us to kill each other and appoint the survivor heir to the Blacksnakes. Pirro wanted to take over the Blacksnakes and reform them, and… we fought, and I killed him.”
“Oh, Throné…”
“It’s strange, isn’t it? When you’ve nothing left to lose, you either learn to grasp whatever hope you can, or let yourself fall into darkness. I lived because someone else died.” Throné let out a low, mirthless laugh. “You know how bloody my hands are, but I can’t stop now. I don’t care how rotten this world is - I just want to be free.”
Agnea pressed her hand to Throné’s cheek and felt strands of dark hair against her fingertips. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, I promise.”
“I was always jealous whenever you spoke of Cropdale and your family,” Throné said, slipping her hand beneath Agnea’s chin. “You had the peaceful, beautiful life I could hardly dream of.” With her other hand she touched Agnea’s side, and barely a scar remained beneath the dress. “And you almost lost it all. It’s true I’ve had a harder life than you, but that doesn’t mean your suffering matters less. I… don’t want to lose you either.”
“I’m still a little scared,” Agnea whispered, hoping to hide the tremble in her voice. “I’m scared of being hurt again, of Harvey, of losing you, but if I run away, I won’t be able to make anyone smile.”
“That’s what you told Giselle in Tropu’hopu, isn’t it? And what a magnificent performance that was.”
“Eheh, you remember that, huh? I know I’m not strong like you or smart like Osvald, but if my dancing can make someone smile…!”
“You’re certainly brave enough, traveling with the likes of us.” Throné pressed her arm to Agnea’s back, pulling her close. “But sometimes let us help you smile too, all right?”
Agnea took Throné’s free hand into hers and let their fingers lace as her other arm came around Throné’s waist. Being so close to Throné under the starlight like this, she was afraid her heart would burst out of her chest. Maybe Throné could even hear how her heart raced, but she didn’t mind. “We’ll save Elena, and we’ll get the second key for your collar,” she said softly, her eyes falling upon Throné’s bright lips. “We’ll keep traveling, as far as we can, and make our dreams come true.”
“You’ll be the brightest star, I just know it.” Throné’s voice was equally quiet. “I’ll protect you and your dreams, I promise.”
Agnea could only smile, and pressed her lips to Throné’s for a kiss. For those she loved, she would shine brightly and ward away the darkness.