Agatha all along one shots

A Thorn in the Shadows

THIS IS A SPOILER OF THE NEW EPISODE DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED YET

The forest was dark, the air thick with silence. Bare branches stretched overhead like skeletal fingers against the faint glow of a half-moon. Agatha Harkness stood alone, cloaked in shadow, her sharp eyes scanning the trees with an intensity that betrayed her inner unrest. Every sound, every whisper of the wind, grated on her nerves, but she said nothing.

She was waiting. The patience she once wielded so easily had grown threadbare, frayed by centuries of disappointment and recent... loss.

A flash of purple sparked at her fingertips before she clenched her hand into a fist. It was a subtle gesture, but enough to keep the memory of Lilia at bay. Lilia, who had been a thorn, a spark of rebellion that could never be smothered. A loss, nonetheless.

Behind her, Jen and the teen witch stood uneasily. They had been following her through the woods for hours, eager to prove themselves, eager to... learn. Agatha had always taught through cruelty when necessary. It wasn't her way to coddle. But tonight, the sharpness in her voice had cut deeper, her impatience lashing out like an exposed nerve.

"Agatha, we've searched every inch of this forest. There's nothing—"

"There's something," Agatha snapped, her voice colder than the surrounding air. "Keep looking."

Jen, her face etched with a mix of defiance and wariness, exchanged a glance with the teen. The younger witch hesitated before speaking, her voice small in the heavy silence. "We... we just don't know what we're supposed to be finding."

Agatha turned on her heel, her dark eyes flashing. "Then use your brains for once instead of waiting for someone to hand you the answer. Or would you rather be back on the Witches' Road, fending for yourselves?"

The mention of the Witches' Road made the teen flinch, but she nodded, swallowing hard. "Yes, Agatha."

Agatha's stare lingered a moment too long. She could see their fear, feel it, taste it even. And she hated herself for the rush of satisfaction that came with it. But beneath that satisfaction, there was something deeper. A hollow ache, old and new at once. The weight of her past pressed in on her.

Lilia.

She had never meant for her to walk that road, to face the judgment of the witches alone. But then again, it wasn't about intentions, was it? Lilia had made her choice, and Agatha... Agatha had watched her burn for it.

Silently.

The pain had been private, the grief buried beneath layers of survival. But it clung to her now, threading through her every word and action, poisoning her temper. She turned away from the two witches, her back to them as if the mere sight of them brought the memory back too strongly.

They weren't Lilia. They would never be Lilia.

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the faintest echo of voices long dead. Agatha felt a chill, one that wasn't born of the night air. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to regain control. The darkness inside her was nothing new. She had lived with it for centuries, wielded it like a weapon. But now, it festered, fueled by the ghost of what she couldn't bring back.

Jen spoke again, her voice more careful now. "We'll keep looking, Agatha. We'll find whatever it is."

Agatha said nothing for a long moment, then finally nodded, her voice cold but quieter. "See that you do."

As they resumed their search, Agatha stood alone in the clearing, the trees around her bending as if bowing to her power. She glanced down at the earth, remembering Lilia's last words. The way her eyes had burned with the same fire that had consumed her.

It wasn't the fire of magic, but of defiance.

Agatha had been proud, in a way. But that pride had given way to bitterness. And now, grief. Silent, buried deep where no one could see it.

She closed her eyes again, letting the night wash over her. No tears. There would be no mourning here, not in this forsaken forest, not where others could see. Agatha Harkness did not grieve. Not openly.

But the bitterness in her words, the edge to her voice, it would have to suffice for now.

They would learn. Eventually, they would all learn.

She made sure of it.