Agatha all along one shots

Along the Witches road

The Witch's Road stretched out ahead, winding through the mist-laden forest, its ancient stones worn by the footsteps of countless witches over the centuries. The air was cool and crisp, and the trees whispered softly in the breeze, their branches swaying as if welcoming the two figures walking side by side.

Agatha's cloak billowed slightly as she walked, her steps measured and precise, as if she knew this path like the back of her hand. Which, of course, she did. But today felt different—less burdened, more natural—despite the woman walking beside her.

Rio.

The name still carried weight in Agatha's chest, an old ache she hadn't dared to acknowledge in so long. Centuries had passed since they had last walked together like this—without conflict, without bitterness. They had once been inseparable, lovers bound by magic and time. But time had a way of twisting things, turning love into resentment, turning friends into enemies.

Yet here they were again, walking the same road as if nothing had changed. Or maybe because everything had.

"You're quiet today," Rio's voice broke the silence, low and soft, carrying with it a familiar warmth. "That's unlike you."

Agatha glanced sideways, catching the faintest smirk on Rio's lips. The old Rio was still there beneath the centuries, still teasing, still pushing in that way only she could.

"I didn't think silence would bother you," Agatha replied, her tone light, though her guard was still there, hanging between them like a fragile veil.

"It doesn't," Rio said, her eyes scanning the path ahead. "But I've gotten used to your sharp tongue over the years. The quiet... almost makes me think you're plotting something."

A chuckle escaped Agatha, surprising herself. "Do I really need to plot? You're far too predictable for that."

Rio grinned, but there was an unspoken weight in her gaze. "Maybe once. But things have changed, Agatha. We've changed."

Agatha felt a pang in her chest, that familiar ache she had learned to bury over the years. She had changed, yes—hardened by the centuries, by betrayal, by the constant push and pull of power and survival. But so had Rio. The woman walking beside her now wasn't the same as the one Agatha had once loved, once fought beside. And yet, there were moments—like now—that she could almost feel them slipping back into an old rhythm, a time when things were simple.

"Change is inevitable," Agatha said softly, her voice tinged with something close to melancholy. "I suppose that's something we've both had to accept."

Rio's gaze softened, and for a moment, they walked in silence again, the sound of their footsteps echoing on the stones beneath them. The Witch's Road had seen them both at their best and worst. It had seen them as allies, as lovers, as enemies. And now, perhaps, it saw them as something in between.

"You know," Rio said after a moment, her tone more serious, "I didn't think we'd ever find our way back to this."

Agatha glanced at her, eyes narrowing slightly. "To what, exactly?"

Rio looked thoughtful, her gaze distant. "To a place where we could walk side by side again. Without all the anger. Without the weight of everything we've been through hanging over us like a storm."

Agatha's heart tightened at Rio's words. There had been so much anger, so much hurt between them. Centuries of wounds, of betrayals, of decisions they had both regretted but never admitted to. It had felt impossible, at times, to even consider peace between them. And yet, here they were.

"Do you ever regret it?" Agatha's voice was quiet, the vulnerability in her question surprising even herself. "The way things went between us?"

Rio didn't answer immediately. Instead, she slowed her pace, her eyes scanning the trees, as if searching for the right words. When she finally spoke, her voice was tinged with the kind of sadness that only centuries of experience could bring.

"I regret a lot of things," Rio said softly. "But what happened between us... I don't think it was ever as simple as regret. We both made choices. We both did what we thought was right, even if it hurt."

Agatha nodded, the truth of Rio's words settling heavily on her. They had been on opposing sides of so many battles—some magical, some personal. But the love they had once shared, the connection that had bound them together, had never fully disappeared. It had simply been buried beneath the weight of everything else.

"I never hated you, Rio," Agatha admitted, her voice almost a whisper. "Not really. Even when we were enemies, even when I wanted to."

Rio's gaze flicked to her, surprise mingled with something else—something unspoken. "I know."

There was a long pause, the kind that felt both peaceful and painful at the same time. Agatha didn't know what to say next, and for once, she didn't feel the need to fill the silence with words. She could feel the bond between them, still frayed, still delicate, but there nonetheless.

The Witch's Road stretched on, and they walked it in step, both feeling the history of what they had been, the potential of what they could be again.

"I missed this," Rio finally admitted, her voice barely audible. "Not the fighting. But this. Us."

Agatha's breath caught, and she looked at Rio, truly looked at her. The woman she had loved, the woman she had fought against, the woman she could never fully let go of.

"I did too," Agatha said, the words surprising her with their honesty. "More than I wanted to admit."

Rio's expression softened, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, there was no distance between them, no invisible wall keeping them apart. They were just two witches, walking the road together.

Perhaps they had been lovers. Perhaps they had been enemies. But now, maybe they were something new. Something that didn't need definition.

And maybe that was enough.