The clearing was quiet, save for the soft crackling of dying embers. Agatha stood in the center, her body still tense, the bitter scent of burnt wood and magic heavy in the air. Her eyes, sharp and wary, scanned the empty field. She had no tears left for her fallen coven—their power now flowed through her veins, cold and potent. She had taken it all while bound to the stake they had tied her to, their betrayal fueling her rage.
She had survived. Alone.
"Well," a voice broke the silence, smooth and warm with a faint undercurrent of amusement. "That was quite the spectacle."
Agatha's head snapped up, eyes narrowing. A figure stood at the edge of the clearing, a tall woman with skin like moonlight and eyes dark as the void itself. She was draped in a flowing black cloak that seemed to shift and ripple like a living shadow. A small smile curled on her lips, but there was no threat in her posture, only a strange, almost playful curiosity.
Agatha's hand instinctively twitched toward her magic. She wasn't sure what this woman was, but something told her this was no ordinary intruder.
"Who are you?" Agatha's voice was sharp, like the crack of a whip.
The woman took a few steps forward, her boots making no sound against the ashen ground. "Death," she replied simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "But you can call me Rio."
Agatha's eyes widened, just for a heartbeat, before she composed herself again. She straightened her back, chin tilting slightly upward in defiance. "Come to claim me, then?"
Rio chuckled softly, the sound like the rustle of wind through autumn leaves. "You? No, darling. You're not quite on my list yet. You've made sure of that, haven't you?"
Agatha's lips pressed into a thin line, the accusation hanging in the air between them. She could feel the pulse of her stolen power deep in her bones, humming in rhythm with her heartbeat. The remnants of her coven—her once-sisters—had been absorbed into her. She had been betrayed, and now, she had become something else entirely.
"So," Agatha said after a pause, "what do you want then?"
Rio stopped just a few feet away from her now, close enough that Agatha could see the faint glimmer in her black eyes, like stars swallowed by an endless sky. She tilted her head, studying Agatha for a moment longer before speaking.
"Curiosity," Rio admitted, her smile widening slightly. "I couldn't help but notice the fire, the... commotion. I don't often see a witch murder her entire coven while tied to a stake. It was, frankly, impressive."
Agatha crossed her arms over her chest, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks despite herself. She wasn't used to compliments—especially not from beings like this. "It wasn't personal," she muttered, half to herself.
Rio arched a brow. "No?"
"They betrayed me," Agatha snapped, her voice hard. "They handed me over to burn like a common criminal. They feared my power. So I took theirs."
Rio's gaze softened, just a fraction. She took another step forward, and this time Agatha didn't flinch away. "And now you're alone."
Agatha's jaw clenched. Alone. The word was a cold reminder of the price she'd paid for her survival. She lifted her chin again, forcing the sting of the truth behind her. "I've got more than enough power to keep me company."
"Power isn't the same as company," Rio said softly. She reached out then, a gloved hand hovering near Agatha's cheek, but not touching. The gesture was almost tender, though Agatha could feel the pull of something darker beneath it—the weight of countless souls, of endings. "It's not the same as a friend."
Agatha hesitated. There was something disarming about Rio, something she couldn't quite put into words. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that this woman—Death herself—didn't seem to fear her, or the fact that she seemed genuinely curious.
"You make it sound like you want to be my friend," Agatha scoffed, though the edge in her voice had softened.
Rio's smile deepened, a hint of mischief lighting up her eyes. "Would that be so bad? I could be quite fun, you know."
Agatha huffed, crossing her arms tighter. "I'm not exactly in the market for companionship right now."
"Not even for someone who knows what it's like to walk alone?" Rio's voice lowered, a quiet understanding threading through her words.
Agatha froze at that, her eyes flickering with something close to vulnerability for a split second. She swallowed, the weight of her isolation suddenly heavier than the magic inside her.
Rio tilted her head, as if sensing the shift. "I don't have to stay, you know," she said, her voice gentle but teasing at the edges. "But I think you might enjoy having someone around who doesn't care about your power, one way or the other."
Agatha let out a low, humorless laugh. "Why would Death herself care about power? You could end me with a thought."
"True." Rio's smile turned almost fond. "But where's the fun in that? You're interesting, Agatha. I like interesting."
Agatha stared at her for a long moment, the air between them charged with something she couldn't name. It wasn't trust, not yet—but it wasn't hostility either. Maybe Rio understood something about her loneliness, about the darkness she now carried. And maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so terrible to have someone who wasn't afraid of her.
"Fine," Agatha said at last, though her voice was gruff. "But don't expect me to be nice."
Rio laughed, a sound like the brush of twilight. "I wouldn't dream of it."
For the first time since the flames had died, Agatha felt a strange warmth that wasn't from her stolen power. She didn't smile, but her stance softened, just a little.
Rio gave her one last amused glance before turning away, her cloak swirling like smoke around her. "I'll see you around, Agatha."
"Yeah," Agatha muttered, watching her disappear into the shadows. "I guess you will."
As the clearing fell silent once more, Agatha stood alone—but for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel quite so lonely.
YOU ARE READING
Agatha all along one shots
Fanficwe dive into a series of one-shots that explore the evolving relationship between Agatha Harkness and Rio. From playful banter to heartfelt confessions, each vignette reveals the depths of their connection as Agatha's sharp wit clashes with Rio's qu...