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Even New Delsta seemed quieter than usual, Agnea thought. She stared out the window of her inn room, and saw only the deep shadows cast by streetlights. Throné had cautioned her repeatedly about what filth such dazzling lights could hide, but she hadn't truly understood those words.
She sighed. The group hadn't spoken much since leaving Lostseed. They had delivered Claude's baby to the orphanage and Temenos and Partitio intended to send out letters concerning aid to Lostseed, but still a hollow feeling lingered. Throné was free. It should've been a joyous occasion.
Carefully Agnea touched her throat, mimicking Throné's habit, and she remembered how Throné's eyes had watered as that poisoned collar lay discarded on the ground. She also remembered how Throné had smiled, faint as it was, when that puppy greeted her as the group exited the sewers. Maybe she didn't really understand Throné. She thought of the invitation to the Festival of Grace Dolcinaea had given her, stashed among her belongings, and sighed again. Compared to what Throné had endured, her own rivalry with Dolcinaea seemed so frivolous.
"Something on your mind, Agnea?" Castti asked as she came beside Agnea.
"That obvious, huh?" she replied with a weak giggle.
"Mm, I suppose that was an unfair question." Castti paused a moment, and Agnea noted the dark circles under her eyes. "That town unsettled all of us. I… still can't shake the feeling I've been there before, and it is hard knowing that even as an apothecary, there is little I can do to help those townspeople."
"Do you think everything that man said is true?"
"I don't know." Castti laid a comforting hand on Agnea's shoulder. "Are you worried about Throné?"
"She's free now, and I'm happy for her, I really am, but…" Agnea chewed her lip. "You're right, I am worried about her, but I don't know what to do."
Castti smiled. "Why don't you go speak to her? She always appreciates your company."
"Are you sure?" For some reason, Agnea felt her cheeks flush at those words.
"It's as I told you in Timberain - while I can heal the body, people like you can heal the heart."
"The heart, huh…?" Agnea laid her hand over her chest, feeling her own heartbeat. "Thanks, Castti."
Castti nodded. "We've endured much, the eight of us, but there's no need to shoulder everything alone."
With one more smile for Castti, Agnea left their inn room and headed down the hallway. Throné had gotten herself a private room for tonight, so maybe Agnea would simply be intruding, but she had to at least see Throné. If Throné truly wished to be alone, then Agnea would respect that. Just a glimpse would do, she told herself, even as she wished for more.
At the end of the hallway was Throné's room, and Agnea inhaled deeply before knocking on the door. An agonizing second passed, and then another, and she remained rooted in place, hopeful. The door opened soon enough, revealing Throné, and her eyes went wide upon seeing Agnea. Yet she quickly recomposed herself and asked, "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see how you were doing," Agnea said quickly, feeling the intensity of Throné's brooding gaze. "But if you'd rather be—"
"It's fine." Throné opened the door wider. "Please, come inside."
Agnea did so, and as she cast a glance around the small room, Throné shut the door behind them. A lamp was lit on the table nestled near the window, and outside she saw only the shadow of a neighboring building.
"It's not much of a view, is it?" Throné chuckled, following Agnea's gaze. "But it's quiet."
"It's… a nice kind of quiet," Agnea whispered, and still she remembered too well the foreboding silence of Lostseed, a quiet hopelessness. Here, quiet as it was now, the city outside still lived.
Throné chuckled again, softly, and sat on the edge of the bed and gestured for Agnea to join her. Agnea sat beside her, and her eyes fell upon Throné's bare throat. Faint discoloration circled where that collar had rubbed against the skin, skin untouched by the sun for a very, very long time. Throné touched her throat, and let out a deep sigh. "I know this may sound strange, given how I insisted on a private room for tonight, but… I'm glad you're here."
Agnea's heart hammered against her ribs. "R-Really?"
"I've never minded solitude, but in being with all of you, I've realized I don't always need to be alone." Throné smiled lightly, a smile tinged with both melancholy and longing. "It seems that at some point, I've come to expect your presence. Maybe I'm being selfish."
"It isn't selfish," Agnea said quickly. In Winterbloom, she had offered Throné a dance. In Montwise, Throné had asked her for a song. To see Throné smile, Agnea would bare her very heart.
Yet Throné's slight smile vanished. "It still smells of blood, you know. This freedom, I mean." Her hand fell to her side, and her shoulders trembled. "I killed Pirro, and Mother and Father… I felt their blood over my hands, and if everything that man said is true, that same blood runs in my veins too…"
"Throné…" Agnea reached for Throné's shoulder, but hesitated.
"I'm free now. I can't regret that." Again Throné touched her throat, tracing where the collar had once lain, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. "But it isn't what I imagined, and I don't know what to do now…"
Agnea's chest tightened at the sight of Throné's tears. She'd never seen Throné so vulnerable, not even when Throné had raged and screamed at that monstrous man in Lostseed. She wrapped her arms around Throné's shoulders to draw her closer, and Throné' arms immediately came around Agnea's back, almost painfully tight, and she buried her face in Agnea's shoulder. Warm tears splashed onto Agnea's skin, and she laid her hand on Throné's hair, stroking gently, unsure of what more to say. Lostseed had terrified her, but she wouldn't turn away from Throné's grief and anguish. When first they met, Agnea had promised herself she would do whatever she could to make Throné smile.
"How… how can you still stand to look at me?" Throné's voice was uncharacteristically small, and her arms tensed around Agnea. "You've seen how bloody my hands are…"
"You're still a wonderful person, Throné," Agnea said firmly. "You're kind and strong and elegant, just the sort of city woman I admire! You're also brave, braver than anyone I know, and you're not afraid to take what you want."
Throné lifted her head, her eyes bloodshot, but a smirk tugged at her lips as she pressed her hand to Agnea's cheek. "I take what I want, hm?" she murmured, her breath warm on Agnea's lips. "Does that include your heart as well?" She was still a moment longer, as if in contemplation, and then closed the distance between them with a kiss.
Heat blossomed deep within Agnea; Throné's lips on hers were so very soft and warm. A kiss both greedy and tender, and Throné's eyes were filled with uncertainty as her lips fell from Agnea's. Agnea, however, felt more certain than ever as she seized Throné's face between her hands and kissed her again, eager yet clumsy. Always had Agnea been drawn to Throné, the way she moved with both precision and grace, and how she smiled when she thought no one was looking. In the night, she was like the moonlight itself, and Agnea felt stronger beside her.
They soon parted, breathless, and Throné slid her finger down the line of Agnea's cleavage, and Agnea's heart quickened. "There's no treasure more beautiful," Throné whispered. "But one might think I'm undeserving of such a treasure."
"It isn't about what you 'deserve,' but what you want." Agnea laid her hand over Throné's. "You're free now, and no one can take that away from you."
Throné chuckled darkly and guided Agnea's hands to her throat. "Even knowing the cost of my freedom, you see something in me worth loving." She shut her eyes a moment, hiding the tears that again threatened to fall. "But that's the kind of woman I am - I take what I want."
Agnea drew her fingers along the base of Throné's neck, and felt Throné's breath hitch beneath her touch. For over a decade Throné had worn that cruel collar, and the skin appeared almost colorless and rubbed raw by the coarse fabric. A collar filled with poison, always threatening Throné - Agnea could scarcely imagine the courage needed to live with such terror day after day. She planted a light kiss to the tender flesh, and a soft moan fell from Throné's lips.
"You're beautiful," she whispered against Throné's neck, and faintly she wondered if she could hear Throné's pulse.
"Do you think I haven't noticed the way you're always watching me?" Throné chuckled again, a low, dark sound, and Agnea's cheeks flushed. Throné's hands settled on Agnea's back and tugged at the laces of her dress. "If someone as radiant as you can love me, I must be doing something right."
Agnea raised her head, and she'd never see such an alluring smile on Throné's lips before. She touched Throné's shoulders, at the boundary of cloth and skin, and swallowed thickly, heat building in the pit of her belly. "I'm not very experienced at this sort of thing," she said at last.
"Nor am I, although I've had to pretend otherwise." Throné bent her head, her warm breath tickling Agnea's ear. "Let's make this night ours, and ours alone."
What they had seen on their journeys together, the good and the bad, couldn't be forgotten, but a new dawn meant another chance to shine. How Agnea had fantasized about this moment, to see Throné truly smile from the heart. No matter how much blood had been shed, no one could take that away. Agnea began to unfasten Throné's outer corset as Throné unlaced the back of her dancer's dress, and as more of Throné's skin was bared, that heat deep within Agnea grew stronger still.
Agnea unwrapped the rest of Throné's blouse from her shoulders, baring her large breasts, and Agnea's eyes widened at the sight. Throné smirked and helped free Agnea's torso from her dark bodice, and Agnea's blush deepened as Throné gaze lingered over her own breasts. "Yours have quite the charm of their own too," Throné said in a heated whisper.
With such a sultry voice in her ear, Agnea could barely think clearly. Her hands slid lower, pausing only briefly when touching the scar left by Father's dagger in Winterbloom, and worked on removing Throné's skirt and the rest of her undergarments. Throné wasn't idle either, and despite the tangle of limbs, they soon managed to remove the rest of each other's clothing. However, when Agnea reached for Throné's stockings, Throné stopped her.
"It'd be more alluring to keep those on, don't you think?" Throné said with a mischievous wink.
Agnea's breath caught in her throat; in the mix of candlelight and moonlight, Throné's skin seemed to shimmer, and the dark stockings against that skin made for a lovely contrast. Agnea laid a hand on Throné's thigh, feeling the lace topping a stocking, and with her other hand she again touched the scar at Throné's side, just one of many, and lowered her head to brush her lips against that scar, and she heard Throné inhale sharply.
"I have a lot of scars," Throné said carefully. "They may be… unsightly."
"They're a part of you too." Agnea smiled and took Throné's hand into hers. "And I love all of you."
Throné's fingers tightened around Agnea's, her palm both warm and calloused. "You're a strange one," she said softly, and pressed a kiss to the back of Agnea's hand.
Agnea blushed, and her lips caught Throné's for another kiss. As Throné's arms came around her back, she slipped her tongue past Throné's welcoming lips. She also cupped Throné's breasts and gently squeezed, and Throné moaned into her mouth; Throné's breasts were soft and warm, and she felt nipples hardening against her palms. As Throné gave her a brief nod, she pushed Throné's back onto the bed sheets, and broke the kiss to stare down at Throné pinned beneath her.
Throné smiled, a smile both alluring and daring, and raised her hand and drew her fingers along the length of Agnea's neck, sending shivers down Agnea's spine. "What a lovely throat," she murmured. "And never marred by any unwanted collar…"
Gently Agnea curled her fingers around Throné's bare throat, and felt how Throné's breath quickened. She brushed her thumb over the tender flesh, and kissed the juncture of Throné's neck and shoulder. Her hands slid lower, caressing Throné's shoulders and collarbone, feeling every nick and blemish on her skin. Her heart raced beneath Agnea's fingertips running over her cleavage, and Agnea's other hand traced the outline of her side and the curve of her hip. All the while, she watched with that stormy gaze of hers, her cheeks flushed and her lips slightly parted. Agnea had never seen such an alluring, intimate sight as she did now.
Taking advantage of Agnea's distracted attention, Throné's hands snaked up Agnea's front and seized her breasts, giving them a firm squeeze. Agnea gasped sharply, and Throné smirked. "I've told you not to let down your guard," she murmured as she rolled Agnea's nipples between her fingers, and Agnea's body squirmed against hers. Throné's hands were calloused from years of wielding daggers, rough against the soft flesh of Agnea's breasts. She pressed herself more into Throné's touch, that ache between her thighs begging for more. She tried to speak, but any potential witty reply died on her tongue. Throné's fingers felt so very, very good.
As Throné teased her breasts, Agnea kissed wherever she could reach. The hollow of Throné's throat, her collarbone, her cleavage, the curve of her breast, a scar on her left arm - with every kiss, Throné's body arched more against Agnea's, and Agnea ran her hands up and down Throné's sides, and again felt the scar from Winterbloom. She'd offered to dance with Throné after that incident, and Throné had smiled, faintly but truly.
Throné was strong, Agnea thought. Even if she thought her hands stained in blood, she still reached for that hope of freedom. But freedom was only the beginning.
Agnea slid a hand between Throné's thighs and pressed her lips to Throné's neck, where that collar had once bound her. Agnea's fingers were uncertain, exploring cautiously, but the moans that fell from Throné's lips were reassuring. Agnea had pleasured herself sometimes, late at night to private fantasies of Throné, so she had some idea of what she was doing. She swiped a finger along the coarse hairs, and Throné let out a quick gasp. Encouraged, she prodded lower, and left a trail of kisses along the length of Throné's neck.
One of Throné's hands threaded its way through Agnea's hair to cup the back of her head, holding her closer, and her other hand slipped between Agnea's own thighs. Graceful, deadly fingers traced the outline of Agnea's sex and teased her clit, and Agnea almost came right then and there. Trembling, she slid a finger of her own into Throné, and felt how wet and tight Throné had grown. They both fell into an uneven, almost competitive rhythm, and Agnea continued to kiss the raw, discolored skin of Throné's slender throat.
Throné's fingers caressed Agnea's clit while her other hand traced the length of Agnea's spine, and Agnea could not help but shudder. With those same hands she had killed with, Throné now granted Agnea such intimate pleasure. Agnea moaned against Throné's neck, and Throné's body beneath hers couldn't remain still either. It wasn't the most comfortable of positions, this tangle of limbs, and Agnea was too acutely aware of the feeling of Throné's silky stockings against her own legs, an erotic contrast to the rest of Throné's nude body.
The heat of pleasure was overwhelming, and Agnea almost grew dizzy. Yet she wanted to feel even closer to Throné, the way Throné's heart pounded against her chest and the warmth of Throné's arousal on her fingers. She kissed and nipped at Throné's neck, and Throné threw her head back, exposing more of that lovely throat. Had Agnea been less naïve, she might've known to be frightened of Throné. But instead she had reached out for those bloodstained hands, and together they could greet a new dawn.
Agnea came first, that pleasure shooting through her body, and it lingered like an ache as she kept her fingers moving until Throné came as well. Her lips pressed to Throné's neck, she felt the moan drawn from the back of Throné's throat, a longing, intimate cry like nothing Agnea had heard before.
They lay together a while on the bed sheets, still nude save for Throné's stockings. Agnea thought she might grow cold, but the heat of pleasure still lingered over them like a blanket. She pressed her fingers to Throné's neck, tracing the outline of that discoloration. Perhaps it would fade in time. "Are you happy?" she asked, breaking the silence.
Throné hesitated, laying her hand over Agnea's. "That's a complicated question," she said as her calloused fingers curled around Agnea's. "I keep asking myself, what do I do now? But it's because I'm free I can ask myself that." A quiet smile came upon her lips. "I've already made my first decision - to watch you shine at the Grand Gala."
Agnea let out a weak giggle. "Compared to all that you've been through, my dream of dancing seems so… mundane."
"But no less important. You've no idea how much your smile has saved me." Throné touched Agnea's neck with her other hand, her fingertips gliding across the vulnerable flesh, and Agnea shivered beneath that touch. "Maybe it would've been easier to be jealous of you and your peaceful life. I couldn't understand why you weren't frightened of me, and that made me long for more, selfish as it was."
"It isn't selfish," Agnea said again, firmly. "Every time you smiled, I wanted more too."
Throné chuckled darkly. "Because you believe in me, I think I can be happy." She pulled Agnea into her arms, and Agnea couldn't tell their heartbeats apart. "When you danced for me in Winterbloom, maybe that was when I fell in love with you."
Agnea pressed her face to the crook of Throné's neck and shoulder, and inhaled deeply. "You're kind and strong, and with you watching me at the Grand Gala, I just know I'll shine brighter than ever!"
"I look forward to it," Throné said softly, brushing her lips against Agnea's hair.