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2024-10-29
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The Tortured Poets Department

Summary:

Agatha talks about her ring.

Notes:

I may have a small obsession with Agatha's ring and Shannon (LucyLawless) has only enabled me.

Work Text:

 

 

The road was winding out in front of them. The dark leaves sticking to the soles of her feet. Agatha hated it here. She hated the darkness, the way it warped around everything, clinging to it like tar. She could hear Billy behind her, following closely as if he was about to miss something. He wasn't. They had lost half the coven. Alice was her fault and Lilia. Lilia had sacrificed herself for them. It made her skin crawl. She could remember the one constant who had saved her. Over and over again. Unconsciously, she brushed her thumb over the underside of her ring. She sighed, pushing her hands into her pockets. She could remember every time Rio had come to her rescue. Every time she had given her that smirk and by the Gods, what was she doing on this stupid road again. 

Jens sniffle made her pause. Turning, she could see the tears tracking down her cheeks.

“Crying isn't going to bring her back,” wow, way to be sympathetic. 

“She wouldn't be dead if this wasn't for you,” Jens anger came through harder than Agatha expected but really Agatha should expect it. Jen was a formidable witch. She always had been. They had once been friends. Kind of. Well, more acquaintances. They had only really crossed paths before once. When Agatha was nine months pregnant and in labour. Typically, Rio, who had gotten her into that situation, was not there to get her out. But now, watching Jens face contort in anguish, it made something stir in Agatha. 

“I know,” Agatha admitted. “I know the seven were my fault and I'm sorry that they took Lilia but we can't dwell on it. We need to get to the next trial so we can get out of this forsaken place.”

Jen had paused in front of her. “You're scared too.”

“Of course I'm scared, Jen.” Agatha revealed. “Alice is dead, Lilia is gone and Rio-”

Agatha bit back her emotions. She wouldn't show the fear of her wife on her face. 

“What about Rio?” Billy asked. 

“Rio's vanished,” Agatha lied. She knew exactly where Rio was. Rio was ferrying bodies to her realm. 

Agatha turned, she wasn't interested in listening to them mourn the losses. 

“Would she come for Lilia?” Billy's innocence made her feel nauseous and she spared a glance as they walked at Jen. 

Agatha couldn't help the words that escaped her lips. “Death comes for us all.”

No one answered. No one made eye contact. Instead they continued walking. One foot in front of another. That was all she could do. All any of them could do until the night grew darker. The air grew colder. Agatha found herself looking around as they came to a large meadow the road widening. 

“We should stop,” her suggestion was met by stern looks as she turned. 

“Why?” Billy's spite spat around her and Agatha pushed away the hurt.

“Because it's late,” Jen answered for her. “And I'd like a break from this road making my calves into tree trunks.”

Billy's scowl back at her made her lift her hand in a half shrug but then they were moving, collecting wood and lighting a fire. Just like they had with the rest of their coven. 

The crackle of the fire was the only sound that filled around them. It made her stomach twist in pain. Agatha wanted to say something, anything to make it better. Instead, she looks down at her hand and twists the dark rock on her hand. Nostalgia itched at her. Memories began to creep into the corners of her mind. A crunch of leaves made her look up at Jen. Jen who stood in front of her. Uncertainty on her face. Dark eyes looked between her and the space beside her. 

With a sigh, Agatha waved her hand and Jen quickly sat. The taller woman watched Billy collect firewood and then begin making a makeshift shelter.

“So,” Agatha shifted uncomfortably. “Do we get smores or-”

“Did you mean it?” Jen snapped. Agatha reeled. Her lip curled ready to attack but then Jens question came softer. “Did you mean to take Alice's power?”

Agatha stuttered before clamping her jaw shut. “No,” her genuine words felt odd on her tongue. Just like when she had told the Teen about the Sigil. She had known deep down. Jen waited and Agatha hated that the priestess was determined for more information. But she gave it. “It was an accident. I-I can't control it. For so long it was second nature and then not having it. I think my powers just reacted.”

“Agatha-”

“I know a 350 year old witch who still doesn't have her shit together,” Agatha’s humourless laugh echoed in her chest. 

“So you didn't mean it?”

“No, Jen, I didn't mean it,” Agatha swallowed the emotion that threatened to clog her throat. “I didn't even know I was doing it until it was too late.”

“And your coven?” Jen prodded deeper. “Rio said your mother wanted you executed?” 

“She wasn't exactly mother of the year material.” Agatha deflected. She looked down at her hands, she didn’t like this. It felt damaging like if she opened up, Jen would see every little imperfection that came with her. Imperfections that she had smothered and hidden over the centuries. 

“I’m sorry,” Jen muttered, her face contorting as the words tasted sour. “About leaving you in that trial. I didn’t know-” 

Agatha shrugged. “All you know is that I killed my coven. Why would you care that they were the ones who started it.” 

“Is that what happened?” Jen prodded and it made Agatha’s skin crawl, she had to get to the end of this godforsaken road and get away from the Spanish Inquisition. 

“I wanted to learn,” Agatha pursed her lips. It was Jen. Jen who she hated but also Jen who had handed her her son in the middle of the worst snowstorm in New England history. “But it was above me to know that.”

Jens brow drew tight but it was Billy who asked, “They were going to kill you for trying to learn the craft?”

Agatha’s tight smile made her look away. “It was above my station,” Agatha repeated her mothers words that fateful night. 

“Covens are protective of their craft,” Jen explained to the boy. “Especially old ones. There's a hierarchy that they respect.”

Jens pointed look makes Agatha lift a shoulder. Honestly, why was it so bad to learn? 

But Billy wasn't stupid, his gaze narrowed on her as she tried to school the memories of her mother finding her with the grimoire. Trying to find out why her magic presented differently. Purple, not blue. 

“You were trying to learn about your power.” 

“And we all know how that worked out,” Agatha drawled, looking back down at her hands. She had been scared after it first happened, to understand why she had murdered her kin but then she wasn't sure it was such a bad thing. They had never understood her, looked down on her. Her own mother had kept her at arms length for most of her life. Rio had been the one to save her. To pick up the pieces and tell her it was all ok, that she had a unique gift, one that could build empires and burn worlds. 

She stared at her palms, now devoid of that power. She turned them over and examined the ring that had sat on her finger for nearly 250 years. The first century with Rio had been fun. They had spent a lot of time enjoying the revolution across the north east. Particularly causing issues with Governors daughters. Agatha had been close a few times, close to getting caught, to being revealed as a witch. But every time Rio popped up just in time. Saving her, being charming to those around them and whisking her away to spend days in each other's company. For the first fifty years, it had been in throws of passion, seeking physical touches to remind each other of what they had found the first time they had met in the forest near Salem. But, like everything, the season changed, things aged and matured like the trees that surrounded her small coven. Her relationship with Rio had changed, it aged, it became something comforting. That’s not to say the passion faded. If anything it got worse. But them, together, it was something Agatha couldn’t put into words. For centuries, she gallivanted around the globe, gaining power like a drug and Rio was there by her side, collecting the dead and then returning to Agatha for their time together. 

Agatha turned her hands back and stared at the dark rock nestled between two silver branches. Agatha remembered the day she got it. 

“You're ring,” Billy's annoying inquisitive voice broke her thoughts. “Was it your mothers?”

Agatha tried not to snort at the look Rio would have given him had she been here. 

“No,” Agatha stated simply and she glanced at Jen who looked down at her own ring. 

“What-what do they do?” Teens brow was drawn tight and Agatha's eye caught Jens. Jen who blushed and looked away. Jen knew exactly what they meant. 

“What does your textbook say?” Agatha nodded to the leather bound book. 

His frown drew deeper and she watched him dig through the little grimoire. 

“Will it even be in there?” Jen asked under her breath. Agatha shrugged, it was worth a shot. The fire crackled as he dug through page after page. As he did, Agatha revelled in the warmth of the fire. The temperature had dropped from autumn in New Jersey to winter. The cloud of their breath spilled around them and she could see Billy tightening his jumper around him. 

Rio was close. 

Only death was this cold. 

“Life ties?” Billy's voice broke her thoughts and she saw Jen smirk. “Wait, this can't be right, it says here that life ties bind your soul to that person so that when you perish. They perish too.”

Agatha waited and watched the way his little brain caught up. 

“You managed to get a soul tie to Death?” Jens judgy voice beat the kid. 

“What can I say I'm irresistible?” Agatha teased. 

“It says that you can't harm each other,” Billy voiced. “but she cut you when she was in your house.”

“Harm as in kill,” Agatha explained. “At least not directly.”

“So if she threw you off a cliff?” Jen proposed. 

“It'd be allowed,” Agatha relented. “On the technicality it was natural.”

“But she threw you off the cliff?” Billy's frown reminded her eerily of Nickys when faced with a difficult quandary. The similar draw of his brows into a deep frown, the way his lips tilted downwards. “She's the cause.”

With a roll of her eyes, she repeated the same response Rio had given her nearly 315 years ago. “The Living Tribunal doesn't tend to look at it that way.” 

Jen opened her mouth with widened eyes clearly ready to go full steam ahead down the track but Billy's questions stopped her. “But stabbing you. Not allowed?”

“Look at you keeping up,” Agatha huffed. She wasn't sure she enjoyed this curiosity but it was better than them asking about her mother. Or Nicky. 

Billy's head dipped back down to his little book and then his head snapped back up. “But it says that your lives are bound to one another. That it's sacred.”

Jens voice broke through next, “Keep up Teen, it's basically a witches marriage.”

His jaw dropped as a blush rose in his cheeks. 

Agatha looked over at Jen, “Spoil sport.”

“He wasn't going to get that we are all on the rainbow scale.” Jen drawled with a huff, smoothing out the dirty wrinkles of her dress. Billy's brows rose impossibly higher into his hairline. 

“You too-”

“Please, you don't live for 150 years and not try something new. No one is that straight,” Jen snapped impatiently. Honestly, she was a terrible teacher. 

“I forgot how good your bedside manner was,” Agatha smirked, looking back down at her ring. 

“You were a bit busy bringing life into the world,” Jen shot back. Agatha’s smirk dropped. Her hand unconsciously went to the locket. Jen watched her, her eyes widening only a fraction as Agatha tore her gaze away. The taller witch didn’t apologise, she never did for her barbs but Agatha could see the regret in her stance. 

“Wait,” Billy asked, oblivious to the tension between the elder witches. “It says that the protection on it is linked as well, that they can always feel where one another is. Is this like some weird soulmate thing?” 

Agatha didn’t respond. She knew the stone was something that only Rio had made. An original stone of the universe. 

“Does Death even have a soul?” Billy whispered, looking between the two. 

“She did,” Agatha muttered. “Once upon a time.” 

“What happened?” God, he was nosy. 

Agatha glanced around at both of her companions and she saw no malice. This is what covens did, they shared with one another and hell, at this rate none of them were making it out alive so what was the point in keeping it all tucked in. It wasn’t going to hurt her. 

“She gave it to me,” Agatha recalled. Her thumb brushed the stone unconsciously, bumping over the sigil within the stone. “You’d be surprised at how many enemies she has.” 

“I mean, she literally ferries the dead,” Jen pondered. “So it’s not really surprising.” 

“No, you don’t get it,” Agatha muttered, her defences rising. “Even she isn’t invulnerable.” 

“But surely she can’t die?” Jen asked. “She’s already dead.” 

Agatha shook her head. “It’s complicated.” 

“So uncomplicate it,” Jen pushed but Agatha was pushing to her feet. She turned to both of them and thought about it for only a moment. 

“No.” Instead, Agatha turned, and walked into the darkness. Her arms curling around herself to keep the heat in. She didn’t want to reveal Rio’s secrets, they were hers to keep. That was the oath they had sworn to one another in the depths of New England, in the home they promised to build together. The home they did build together. The home they destroyed together. 

Agatha looked down at the black stone on her finger, the sigil glimmering in the moonlight. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

“I'd say I learnt from the best but we all know it was the other way around.” 

Agatha didn't turn at the sound of her voice. At the taunting to get a rise out of her. 

“What are you here for?” Agatha asked, looking forward into the darkness. “Me?”

“No,” she could practically hear the pout. “You'll meet your end the natural way.”

“The boy then?” 

“He broke the rules.” 

“He didn't know.” 

Rio's exasperation was clear. “He's not-”

“I know who he is,” Agatha snapped, turning to the dark eyes that watched her closely. She was in her full dark clothing, ready to collect. 

“You're protective of him,” Rio observed, stepping closer. “Why? He turned on you the moment you showed him who you really were?”

“He's just a kid,” Agatha wasn't giving Rio more ammunition. 

“No,” Rio pouted. “That's not it.” She moved purposefully around Agatha each step crunching the frozen leaves beneath them. “He tugs on those human heart strings of yours. The ones you try to pretend aren't there.” Agatha glowered. “You always were soft when it came to children.”

“You know how I feel about that?” She shouldn't have snapped. She should have kept that card closer to her chest. 

Rio smirked. “It’s life, Agatha. The road of life isn't an easy one.”

“You don't get to tell me about that,” Agatha’s emotions reared as her mind went to her son. 

Rio had the decency to look wounded for a second before her face became void. “I'm sorry. I've always been sorry. You know that.”

“It doesn't excuse you taking him,” Agatha tried to swallow back the emotion but the softness crept into Rio's gaze. 

“You know as well as I do that we couldn't control what happened to Nicky.” 

Agatha flinched. It had been so long since his name had been spoken aloud by either of them. Especially in one another's presence.  She had to protect herself to stop this line of questioning. 

“Yes, well, it's the past.” Agatha huffed, pulling her arms tighter around herself. “So what now? You just go kill the boy?” 

“You know that's not how it works,” Rio drawled. “I would have been out of your hair sooner but you're pleading warmed the heart.”

“You don't have a heart.”

Rio smirked, her eyes landing on Agatha’s ring. “Yes, I do. It's yours.”

Agatha curled her hand involuntarily. She shifted her feet on the freezing ground. It was growing colder by the second, she could see her own breath. 

“You’re cold,” Rio’s head tilted. 

“Well you aren’t exactly a ray of sunshine,” Agatha huffed and Rio stepped closer, her hand sliding up her back. It was automatic. The reaction of her body relaxing into the warm touch. 

“I can be exactly how you wanted me to be,” Rio’s breath ghosted across her ear, as scalding arms encircled her. 

But Agatha knew the game the witch played. She had played it so many times before. “So I give in and give you Billy?” 

Rio stiffened. “Honestly,” she pouted. “He’s just one life that broke the rules.” 

“He made a mistake.” 

“Like you did?” 

It was like a slap. 

Rio didn’t flinch, didn’t move as Agatha turned slowly to look at her. Her brow quirked in that perfect arch. 

“Goodbye Rio.” 

Agatha turned, stalking past Death as she made her way back to their small camp. Rio didn’t move. Didn’t utter a word. As soon as she made it back to camp, she curled in front of the warmth of the fire. Jen and Billy both curled up, eyes closed. Agatha subtly checked they were breathing before settling. She didn’t close her eyes, instead she watched the road around them. Knowing that Death clung to the darkness. They would wake and continue on the trial and meet Death at the end.