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Throné dreamed of darkness. She fell, further beyond the edge of the world, and kept falling. There were no stars, no light, only the endless falling darkness. She heard the strikes of chains in the distance, and mocking laughter that pierced her ears like needles. Her neck burned where that collar lay, the poison seeping into her skin, but she hardly felt the pain now. That woman, who had claimed to be Temenos' friend, said she would never be free of this collar.
She crawled at the darkness closing in on her, trying to slow her fall, but her hands were too stained in blood. That man who claimed to be her father had been a monster created by the Moonshade Order, to have a vessel for the wicked god Vide. That same cursed blood ran in her veins, and she had shed that blood in pursuit of her freedom, and in the end, even that freedom had reeked of blood.
Finally she stopped falling, and lay a while on hard, ragged ground. Unmoving, she simply stared into the darkness, hoping to see something, anything at all, but instead saw nothing. An oppressive cold pressed down on her, like the hopeless chill of Lostseed. She really wasn't much different from those failed, hollow vessels. Feebly she raised her hand, and cold chains seized her arms, pulling her to her knees. She thrashed, trying to break free, but another chain curled around her throat and tightened, cutting off her air. She choked, and her skin froze where the ice-cold chains touched. Of course, what would a cold-blooded snake like her know of warmth?
Yet a warm hand touched her face, and she forced her eyes open. The scent of raspberries greeted her first, and then Agnea's worried face. The sun had yet to rise, but moonlight seeped through the window, casting long shadows, but they were familiar shadows and not of Vide's darkness. She remembered now; they were in Cropdale, in the house they shared together. That long night had been a year ago. The sun would rise soon. The eight of them had ensured that.
She was free to see the dawn, and no one would ever take that away from her again.
Carefully Throné laid her hand over Agnea's and guided it to her throat; only Agnea was allowed to touch her neck like this, and that trusting touch often helped put her heart at ease. Understanding, Agnea smiled faintly and drew her fingers along the base of Throné's neck, and where that collar used to lay was particularly sensitive. "It was a nightmare, wasn't it?" Agnea asked.
Throné let out a humorless chuckle. Agnea's fingers curled around her throat, just holding gently, and she wondered if Agnea could feel her racing pulse. She shut her eyes a moment; Agnea's touch was always so warm and soft. "It seems I've been having nightmares more often lately," she replied finally.
"Was it about that long night?"
A heavy sigh fell from Throné's lips. "A thief like me, afraid of the dark. How shameful."
Agnea shook her head. "I don't think it's shameful. The things we saw on our journeys… there really aren't many other people who can understand."
Throné didn't answer immediately, instead studying Agnea's expression. Worry creased her brow, but even in this darkness her blue eyes were bright. She could still smile, and for that Throné was grateful. "May I make a selfish request?"
"Of course. Anything you want."
"That's a dangerous promise to make with a woman like me." Throné's fingers coiled around Agnea's at her throat. "Could you sing a lullaby for me?"
A small smile graced Agnea's lips. "Which one would you like?"
Throné hesitated a moment. "The one you sang for me before I confronted Father in Montwise… I think that one is my favorite."
"It's my favorite too." Agnea drew closer and propped herself on her elbow beside Throné, and laid her other hand on Throné's hair as she began to sing. "'Rest, little one, for the day is done. Queens and kings, too, were once like you. Now it's time to close your eyes and rest until the sun does rise.'"
The lyrics washed over Throné like a warm blanket, and she shut her eyes. Agnea's hand on her hair was gentle, and her voice was quiet yet clear. At her age, Throné wondered if she should've been embarrassed to be so easily soothed by a lullaby, but Agnea never refused her when she wished for one. She opened her eyes again, and the smile on Agnea's lips as she sang was true. Despite the nightmares, when Agnea smiled at her like that, she could remember why she fell in love with the young dancer in the first place. When she saw Agnea smile, it put her heart at ease.
Once, she might've laughed at herself for daring to think herself worthy of love. She'd certainly never expected a sweet, naïve dancer like Agnea to be the one to steal her heart, but every time they greeted the dawn together, she was grateful beyond what words could say.
Agnea's lullaby soon came to an end, and Throné felt tears sting at the corners of her eyes. "Throné, what's wrong?" Agnea exclaimed, her own eyes wide.
"Oh, nothing," Throné said with a weak chuckle. "It's as you told me once, music truly does have a way of soothing the soul."
"I'm glad my mother's lullaby comforts you so much." Agnea lay beside Throné on the bed sheets, and she brushed her thumb over Throné's cheek, catching a tear. "I just wish I could make the nightmares stop…"
Throné drew Agnea into her arms and threaded her fingers through Agnea's hair. "It's enough, really."
"I'll sing for you as much as you want, I promise."
"Then… could you sing for me again? Just one more time for tonight."
Agnea gave Throné a brief kiss on the lips, and then began to sing another lullaby. Throné shut her eyes again, and in the warmth of Agnea's embrace, a peaceful sleep soon found her.