Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Something was wrong with Tedros. He felt off. Not sick--just . . . off. The worst part was that Tedros knew the cause of his weird feelings. 

It was all Agatha’s fault. 

Since the first day he met her, he was convinced that she was an evil, conniving witch. A weed amongst roses. A mistake. And yet, during the Trial by Tale, she had saved his life, even when her so-called friend cowered behind a bush. Of course Agatha had cowered behind Tedros’s shield, but that was besides the point. She wasn’t supposed to be there, Sophie was. 

That was something else that was bothering Tedros. Why had Agatha been there? Presumably to help Sophie, but why? Did she do it because they were friends, or because she had something to gain from it?

It was hard to tell, because the next day, Agatha was nowhere to be seen. At first, Tedros didn’t think too much about it; he was still too angry about Sophie’s betrayal. In fact, he was glad not to see her face. But then she didn’t appear in class the next day. At lunch, both she and Sophie were missing. 

‘ Maybe they’re conspiring .’ Tedros thought bitterly. 

The day after, when Sophie was seen—with her face painted white and black—Agatha wasn’t. 

The next day, she wasn’t seen. 

Then the next day. 

Then the next day. 

Finally, on the seventh day, when the Evers were exhausted from Sophie’s attacks, Agatha skulked into Dovey’s room. The permanent black circles under her eyes were replaced by red and puffy skin, her dark eyes glassy with the remnants of tears. 

She’d been crying. 

Tedros almost laughed. He didn’t know she knew how to cry. 

There was something odd about her expression though. It was both defeated and determined, and more than a little scary. 

She didn’t speak during class, which wasn’t unusual, but during the test, her pen wrote furiously. Tedros almost felt stupid, just circling answers while she was writing small essays. 

While grading the tests, Dovey’s frown deepened with each packet she smacked back down on her desk. Only when she came across a packet riddled with scratchy handwriting dick her expression soften into something wistful. Then she went right back to scolding them about being Good when she reached the next test. The entire time, Agatha kept her eyes locked on her candied desk, savagely ripping at her nails. 

Once Dovey had passed their tests back to them—pages soaked through from her red pen—and the bell rang, everyone but Agatha rose from their seats. She didn’t move, so still it would be easy to mistake her for a statue. Tedros didn’t think about why she might stay behind other than briefly wondering if Agatha would ask what would happen when no one asked her to the Snow Ball. 

No, he didn’t think about her at all. 

Not until hours later, when she flounced down the stairs, lips pulled back to show pearly white teeth. Tedros froze when he saw her. If not for the short black hair—once shiny with grease and now swishing silkily around her sharp jawline—and the horrid black clumps on her feet, he wouldn’t have recognized her at all. 

What had happened? Was this why she’d stayed behind after class?

Aside from her height, everything about her was smaller: her nose, her lips, her eyes. It was like they’d been shrunk to fit her better. 

Tedros then wondered if Agatha had ever been ugly at all. Just…awkward. Gangly.

She acted differently too. Instead of the insult that always seemed ready on her tongue, she looked at him like she didn’t know what to say. 

It was Tedros who broke the silence. He coughed, remembering that he was a prince and not a tongue-tied little boy. “Um. Hi.” For some reason, Agatha’s bright and glimmering smile returned, though now it was goofy and crooked. It was his new favorite smile. 

“Hi.” It was almost weird how her voice hadn’t changed, still rich and deep. 

More silence. 

“What’s for dinner?” Agatha asked and Tedros wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall. 

“Duckling.” It was hard to breathe. His voice sounded odd. High pitched. To ease the catch in his throat, Tedros coughed again. 

What was he doing? This was Agatha: the same girl who once punched him in the eyes. The same girl who’d destroyed half their school the first week. 

A new face didn’t make her Good. 

But had her other face made her Evil?

“Sorry.” Tedros said at last. “It’s just, you look…you look so…” Agatha’s neck suddenly took on a fiery red look. 

“I know—not me—” Without another word, Agatha spun on her heel and fled around the corner. Tedros didn’t know how long he stood where she’d been, staring at nothing. It was Chaddick who brought him back to the present. 

“Did you see Agatha?” Tedros met his friend’s gaze slowly. 

“Uh, yeah.” He said. 

“She looks totally different.” Chaddick rambled on. “I almost didn’t recognize her.

“Yeah.” Tedros agreed absently. “Me neither.”

He tried not to think about her now. He tried not to think about how Agatha’s eyes were somehow darker than before, near black. How her hair curled gently under his chin. He refused to think about the tiny freckles dotted all over her face. They’d been there before, but they’d been so pale, barely visible against her white face. 

Tedros swung his sword, sweat flying. The blade lopped off a dummy’s head and the lifeless sack rolled across the floor. 

He tried not to think about Agatha’s beautiful smile. 

With a planted foot, Tedros whirled, striking another dummy through its stuffed chest. He tried to focus on Sophie and the attacks. How he was going to put a stop to it all. 

Spinning and lunging, dummy limbs and heads fell to the stone floor, stuffing flew every which way, some even sticking to his clothes and hair. 

Tedros closed his eyes and sucked in a deep, cleansing breath. His mind wandered and this time he let it. He thought of the first time he officially met Agatha. Not during the Welcoming, but next to the hedge of his father, when the gargoyle sat in her lap, her hands moving protectively over the stoney skin. He had saved her life, and instead of thanking him, she shouted in his face, accusing him of killing an innocent child. She looked so angry, so hurt. 

She hadn’t looked like a witch then. 

Would a witch act like that? Would a witch say he killed a child so sincerely?

Was she right then?

When Beatrix insisted on telling Tedros in full detail of Agatha’s plunder with the Wish Fish, she explained how the Fish turned into a young girl and burst into golden light in Agatha’s arms. 

Was the same thing about to happen with the gargoyle?

Wiping a towel over his face, Tedros put the sword back on the wall. Leaving the Everboys’ groom room, he clenched his jaw tightly. For years, Tedros felt judged by his appearance and title. Told he was made for greatness because of his father. Worshiped by the girls here because he was handsome. His entire life, Tedros drowned in unreasonable expectations. He’d hated it. 

Then he went and did the same thing—twice. He labeled Sophie as an Ever and a princess because she was pretty and Agatha as Evil because he was ugly. In the end, Sophie became the villain and Agatha saved his life. 

Coming down the stairs, Tedros saw other students standing before a wall, messily scrawled with bloody-red wording. 

TONIGHT

Agatha was at the front. All the color drained from her face. 

“What does it mean?” She asked. Tedros had nearly forgotten that Agatha was never present for any of Sophie’s attacks. 

“That Sophie is going to attack tonight.” Tedros answered. Agatha turned towards him. Her eyes scanned over his sweaty frame. Suddenly, Tedros felt self-conscious in a way he never had before, aware that he was covered in sweat and probably smelled. 

“Uh, sorry…need a bath.” Agatha didn’t answer. Red creeped down her neck and she quickly turned away. Tedros’s pride flared a little. 

“I thought the attacks were over.” Agatha said softly. For a moment, Tedros saw wistfulness pass over Agatha’s face. He frowned and glared at the wall. 

“She’s poison, that girl.” He hoped she would hear the underlying message. 

“She’s hurt, Tedros.” Agatha argued, but Tedros only latched onto the way it sounded when she said his name. “She thinks you made a promise.”

“It’s not a promise if it’s made under false pretenses. She used me to win the trial and she used you too.” Agatha bristled, the red flush shooting angrily up to her cheeks. 

“You don’t know the slightest thing about her.” Agatha shot back hotly. “She still loves you and she’s still my best friend.” There was something desperate in Agatha’s tone. Not so much that she was trying to convince Tedros, but trying to convince herself. 

Poison indeed. 

“Blimey, you must be a better soul than me, because I don’t know what you see in her. All I see in a manipulative witch.”

“Then look closer.” 

Tedros looked towards Agatha, then around them. They were alone. When had everyone else left? Different words filled Tedros’s tongue. He found himself wanting to be smooth. He wanted to say the right thing that would make her feel better, make the warm blush return to her face. 

“Or look at someone else.” He met her eyes, again hoping she’d get the message. 

The red blush flared up Agatha’s slender neck once more. The victory Tedros felt was fleeting, disappearing entirely when Agatha looked like she was going to either cry or throw up. 

“I’m late.” She spluttered, expression panicked. 

“History’s this way.” Tedros pointed down the hall. 

“Bathroom—” She squeaked. 

“But that’s the boys’ tower!” He fought the smile prickling at his face. 

“I prefer boys’...toilets—” He could tell she knew how ridiculous she sounded. And he was glad she was too far away to hear him laugh. 

Agatha wasn’t a witch at all. 

She never was. 

Chapter Text

It took Tedros a long time to stop thinking about what Agatha had said. 

“She’s hurt, Tedros. She thinks you made a promise.” By this point, Tedros knew that Agatha had been there when he met with Sophie, and that she was behind Tedros falling for Sophie—for the most part. So he was aware that she knew that Sophie doesn’t just think Tedros made a promise. He did . It didn’t matter if she tricked him. It didn’t matter if she was a witch and made a fool of him. If the other Evers knew that if he made a promise to bring a Never girl to the Snow Ball as his princess, and then broke that promise, his reputation wouldn’t just be left in shambles. It would be destroyed entirely. 

Stopping Sophie had never been more crucial. 

It was only when the sun was dipping low over the trees of the Blue Forest, casting long shadows from the trees that Tedros was able to suck in cleansing breaths to clear his mind. He was on the other side of the school gate, trying to find an entrance point where Sophie would be able to get into Good’s side. It had been a solid two hours since he’d seen Chaddick or the others. He wasn’t worried though; they all had flares for if they either found Sophie or found themselves in danger.  In the dim light, he raised his glowing finger during the blue grass different shades of brown and green. His boots crunched softly against the ground. The night was quiet, almost eerily so. The only sounds coming from the rustle of trees and the wind danced through leaves. Tedros found himself wanting to hold his breath to avoid any extra noise. He settled on slow inhales and exhales through his nose, counting his steps in his head.

The silence was broken with an ear piercing scream that made Tedros’ skin explode with goosebumps. 

“ Agatha! ” Tedros recognized Sophie’s voice and while he turned in the direction of it, he didn’t take a single step.

There was no reply. 

“ Agatha! Where are you? ” Hysteria was creeping into Sophie’s voice. Had Agatha been with Sophie? Tedros should’ve known. It was so obvious. 

“ Agatha! It’s me! ” 

For a long time, there was only the empty silence of the night. Tedros waited with bated breath. He should go after Sophie, haul her back to good and throw her at Dovey’s feet, but all he could think about was Agatha. Was she okay? Where was she? 

“ Sophie, I’m coming! ” Her voice was behind him. He was in the middle of them, but it only took a few seconds for him to decide where to go. He spun on his heel and raced towards Agatha. His finger raised high, bathing everything the light reached in golden light, he saw Agatha, skin pale in the moonlight, hair stuck wetly to her face. She was tangled in the briars, being lifted up higher and higher, blood running down the gashes where the thick thorns punctured her skin. 

Tedros finally reached her, wrapped his arms around her slim shoulders and yanking her back. 

“Hold onto me!” He shouted. It took her a second, but she slowly brought her hands up to grip his shirt tightly. 

Tedros swung his sword and hacked at the briars. One by one, the large vines collapsed, unmoving, to the ground until the grass was littered with limb-like branches and blood. 

Agatha was shivering in his arms. Tedros barely noticed that the briaers had taken bits out of him too. 

“Had a feeling Sophie was getting in through the Woods,” He said through labored gasps. “So Professor Dovey gave me permission to take some fairies and stake the outer gates. Should have known you’d be here to catch her yourself.” Agatha didn’t say anything. Tedros looked down and saw that she was staring up at him with her large eyes, the stars reflected in the near black of her irises. 

“Stupid idea for a princess to take on witches alone.” He said because he felt like he had to say something. Agatha blinked and turned her gaze around. 

“Where is she? Is she safe?” Her voice was harsh and ragged. Tedros blinked down at her. Was she serious? 

“Not a good idea for a princess to worry about witches either.” Tedors’ hand settled on her slight dip in her waist. She was so slight and tall, willow thin. 

“Put me down.” In the darkness, he could just make out the pinkening of her cheeks. 

“More bad ideas from the princess.” 

“Put me down!” Reluctantly, Tedros released her and she staggered back. He didn’t expect her to stay like that for long.

“I’m not a princess!” She said, though she paused to fix the collar of her uniform. 

“If you say so.” He said, fighting back a teasing smile. His gaze drifted down her slender frame to where the briars had clung to her legs. Streams of blood oozed down the long whiteness of her leg. He saw Agatha’s face go ashen. He no longer fought against the smile pulling at his mouth. 

“One . . . two . . . three . . .”

She went limp and collapsed into his arms. 

“Definitely a princess.” It was odd how right in his arms she felt. More right than holding Sophie ever felt. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together. 

He carried her towards the lake where the fairies were dancing and playing. Tedros pushed away the burning in his arms as he carried her. 

Away from the lake, in a patch of dead grass, the figure in a black cloak rose. 

“Agatha?”

It was Sophie. 

“ You! ” He spat. 

He tried to go around her, but she stepped in his path. “Give her to me. I’ll take her.” Tedros felt his face go red hot. 

“This is your fault!” He yelled. His grip on Agatha became tighter. 

“She saved my life.” Sophie’s voice was soft. “She’s my friend.” 

“A princess can’t be friends with a witch! ” Sophie’s face darkened and she flung up her hand, her finger hot pink. Tedros raised his own gold finger. 

Something in Sophie’s face changed again and she lowered her hand. “I don’t know what’s happened to me.” She whimpered. 

Tedros’ lip curled back into a snarl. “Don’t even try it.”

“This school.” Sophie wailed. “It’s changed me.” 

“Move out of my way!” He shouldered past her, ignoring Agatha’s protests as he commands the fairies to take them to the infirmary. It was too late for the nymphs to still be there, so when Tedros pushed open the candy door and used his fingerglow to light the lanterns at each bedside table, he wasn’t surprised to find the room empty. 

He settled Agatha on the nearest cot as gently as he could, then went to the cupboard for supplies. 

“You know what you’re looking for, right?” Agatha asked from across the room. Tedros faltered for a moment. 

“Yes . . .” He heard Agatha give a soft laugh then limp over to stand beside. It was weird how she was almost as tall as him. He was so used to towering over the other Evergirls and even most of the Nevergirls. Agatha, however, reached all the way to his nose. If he wanted to kiss her, all he had to do was lean down just a little—

Tedros turned away from her. He tried to find anything that might look like painkillers or disinfectants, but he didn’t know what anything did or even what they were called. Agatha didn’t hesitate. She reached up and grabbed a few random bottles and pouches, and then two handfuls couple rolls and pads of gauze. She sat Tedros down on the bed and after rather forcefully telling him to take his shirt off, she began dowsing the pads in clear liquid. 

“How do you know. . .” Tedros’ voice trailed off into nothing when Agatha’s face turned stony and dark. Was he breaching into personal territory?

“My mom’s the town doctor.” Agatha said at last, voice fragile and soft. “She didn’t usually get a lot of customers, so there was plenty of time to teach me everything she knew.” A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. “I was a really clumsy kid and I was constantly tripping over gravestones.”

“Gravestones?” Tedros hissed as Agatha pressed the gauze pad to the largest cut running across his collar bone. 

“I used to live in a cemetery.” She said simply. “Everyone in Gavaldon thought it was too morbid so if my mom wanted customers, she made house calls.” Tedros kept his body tense  as Agatha dabbed his wounds, occasionally getting a new pad when the previous one was too bloody. 

“People used to call her a witch. I bet they still do.” She inhaled shakily. “They used to call me a witch too.” For a moment she looked like she might cry. Tedros thought back to all the times he called her a witch, heard everyone else call her a witch, or thought of her as a witch. He hadn’t really thought about—

“I’m sorry.” He said. She opened off of the pouches. It was a tan paste of sorts. She smeared it over his cuts and he felt a strange cooling sensation. 

“It’s not a big deal,” she said. “I’m used to it.” 

He could tell she was lying, but even if she wasn't, it bothered him that she would have to get used to being treated terribly. Neither of them spoke until she finished wrapping him in bandages and he held his hand out for the bottle of clear liquid. She raised a dark eyebrow. 

“Let me do it.” He said. 

“Are you sure? Because—”

“I can do it.” He insisted. With an amused huff, Agatha pressed the bottle into his hand and sat down on the cott. He was as gentle as he could, but Agatha still winced every now and then. He followed her steps, starting at her arms where they were the lightest and moving down to her thighs. He pushed away the thoughts of creamy skin and focused more on cleaning away the blood. 

He pressed the gauze pad into an especially deep gash and she clamped onto his shoulder as she sucked a hissing breath through her teeth. 

“That one needs to be sutured.” She wheezed out. He looked at her with wide eyes and she gave him a crooked smile. “I can do it.”

“That’s probably smart.” He said. “I’d most definitely make it worse.” 

“At least you can admit it.” She teased. Instead of answering, Tedros went about finishing the bandages the best he could. Agatha let him know if they were too tight or needed to be tighter. When he was done, she limped back over to the cabinet to look for a needle and thread. She collapsed back on the bed next to Tedros, mildly winded.

“I wouldn’t watch if I were you.” She said, “It’s pretty gross.” 

“If a princess can handle some gore, so can a prince.” He huffed. 

“I thought I told you.” Agatha dipped the suture in the bottle. “I’m not a princess.” 

“Well, if you’re not a witch,” Tedros said. “And you’re not a princess, what are you?” He tried to watch as she punctured through her skin with the needle, but he quickly had to look away. 

“I’m me.” She said, “Life is a lot more complicated than simply Good and Evil. If you haven’t noticed, Beatrix and some of the other Evers aren’t all that Good.” 

“Yeah . . .I’ve noticed. I wasn’t very Good either.” 

“At least you can admit it.” She said again. She was so calm that Tedros thought that maybe she was finished. He made the mistake of turning his head and seeing her tying off one of the strings. Nausea rose in his throat; he had to turn away with a weak “oh, god.”

“I told you it was gross.” She said. 

“I don’t understand how you can be so calm. Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“It hurts a lot.” Agatha answered. “But I don’t want to freak you out more.” 

“This is incredibly emasculating.” Tedros grumbled. 

“That sounds like something you need to work out yourself.” She was beginning to sound like  Dovey. 

Tedros waited in silence for Agatha to finish stitching herself up. She broke the silence to tell him that he could leave if he wanted to, but he just said that wasn’t princely and she didn’t bring it up again. 

At long last, she wrapped her leg in gauze and rose to her feet. It was much more elegant than Tedros thought it would.

“We should tell Dovey.” Tedros said. Agatha looked like she wanted to argue, but she just sighed. 

“You’re right. This will be the proof she needs for Lady Lesso to finally do something.” 

“I don’t think Lady Less will be all that upset regardless.”

Agatha snorted in agreement. 

They knocked on Dovey’s door and whatever annoyance she was about to throw at them left her tongue when she saw them. She ushered them inside and demanded to know everything. Agatha told her about Sophie, Anadil, and Hester’s plan to almost kill Tedros before Sophie saved him. Tedros didn’t know that part and felt his face go white. 

“That’s it then.” Dovey said, though she didn’t look pleased. “From the sounds of it, Anadil and Hester were reluctant to follow along, so with the three of you as witnesses and Tedros finding her outside the gates past curfew, things should be taken care of rather quickly.” 

Tedros sighed in relief, but Agatha looked like a ghost. 

“Can you just send her back to Gavaldon?” Agatha asked. “You won’t hurt her?”

“I’m afraid only the School Master can send Sophie back home.” Dovey said with a shake of her head. “Whatever repercussions Sophie faces will be up to Lesso.” Agatha looked ill. 

“We should be getting to our rooms.” Tedros said. “It’s late enough. Thank you, Professor.” Dovey just waved them away with a sleepy hand and Agatha silently followed Tedros through the halls. 

“I’ll walk you back to your room.” He told her. 

“I’m worried about Sophie.” Agatha said. “Do you think she’s right? Is it the school that’s done something to her?” 

Tedros wanted to argue that a school couldn’t change a person like that. That Sophie was just Evil, but he sensed that would just make Agatha angry. 

“I don’t know.” Was all he said. All the way back to her room, Tedros tried to think of something to say. Something that might make her feel better.

He never did. 

They reached Agatha’s door, Millicent’s and Reena’s name plaques long since removed. He would’ve wondered if she was lonely if he didn’t know she liked to be alone. 

“Thank you.” Agatha said abruptly. “For saving me tonight. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” 

Tedros let himself smile. “It’s a good thing I was then.” Finally, she smiled and Tedros’ heart gave a painful thump. 

Then she leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Goodnight.” She pulled away with pink cheeks and disappeared into her room. Tedros stood frozen for a long time until the twinkling of the patrol fairies down the hall made him move. He walked all the back to his room with the certainty that Agatha was, in fact, not a witch.