Multi-Fandom One Shots

When the Sun Sets (Agatha Harkness)

The power of dark was a subtle temptation. It deceived so even she shrouded in light was drawn in. The daughter of the High Priestess, one with her soulmate, one could call her life charmed. Agatha Harkness had the power to succeed her mother, but she remained among her lessers.

But you were one of her lessers. You didn't mind. She utilized her power more than you too, though. But, at least she sat with you at coven meetings. A bit like church, you sat among the masses listening to Eleanor Harkness, High Priestess. And after the meetings, you and Agatha would walk the village. The pilgrims were purists so you couldn't hold hands, but as two of the unmarried spinsters in the village, it wasn't unusual to see her with you. Rumors spread, but until someone found proof or caught you in the act, you would be just another addition to the many woman out-numbering the men their age.

You wanted to hold her hand and make no mistake Agatha was sick of the rules as well. A spell Agatha had almost been banished for casting had illuminated True Love in the area. Luckily it had been her soul mate she'd found. Or had it been luck? Agatha slowly expanded the barriers of her power with such rituals, but it wasn't enough.

Agatha stopped walking when you did. She turned, slightly ahead of you when walking. You purchased the keeper's beeswax candle and continued on with her. "For your vision quest, " you explained very quietly.

Such was her restlessness that she didn't even know what she wanted to do to free her people some. You were such a sweet soul, Agatha was constantly reminded. You were always on the lookout for what you hoped to be Agatha's peace. She'd derived all she could from you and she was like a trapped shark, with nowhere to go. She had the heavens to soar past and she couldn't do that in Salem. This small village with her mother's rule and witch killing laws; you couldn't make a home here. Your nights in her bed were spent with Agatha sharing her fantasies about your futures. Together, of course.

When Agatha dreamed of her life, she knew it would be a long one. Either with you or alone, the violet witch had big plans for her future, if vague.

*

The room was prepared perfectly for the ritual, down to the well placed candles and pre-brewed tea. The sprinkles of light set the mystic mood and Agatha settled on the blanket altar she knew was for her. She didn't doubt her love's capabilities and swallowed the potion. It took no time at all for the brunette to melt into you

You held her with unconditional love. The woman had had such a time of late, having trouble accepting that she had advanced as far as she could within the coven; at least until her mother died. She'd been so antsy to leave, this was your alternative. You only hoped she would get what she needed to know.

It took hours for your lover to wake, with a dramatic gasp as she sat up from you. "Oh, thank the-"

"That was..." The brunette had seemed angered, but she thought for a moment that maybe you'd done it on purpose and this was her encouragement: "a massive tease."

You frowned, displeased with that reaction. "Well, once you are in it, it is up to the visions."

But Agatha looked up at you like you held the key to ultimate power. "I know what I must do," she explained.

You got on your knees beside her, combing her wild, massively tangled hair. This wasn't bedhead; it was chaos hair. Brown eyes molten as a kiln bored into you. Her long fingers curled and clasped your wrist with an iron hold. "That's good but... please loosen your grip," you requested.

Without response, Agatha pulled you in to press her lips to yours. "I can get a better teacher, the best, practice anything I can think of."

Put off by the accusation toward her own mother, you frowned. "We are allowed most practices, only not Dark."

Agatha shook her head determinedly. "You do not understand," she decided.

You shrugged. Perhaps you didn't. "You are happy, then?"

A wild smile creepily stretched the young woman's face. "Almost. Anything I want at my fingertips all for one small sacrifice."

That gave you pause, but you easily discarded it. It wasn't so uncommon that one must be willing to part some sentimental trinket in order to gain something. You looped your arms around her neck. "You know I'd do anything for you."

Agatha delivered a hazel side-eye. "So, you're ok with this? "

"If it is what you desire," you answered sweetly.

Excitedly, the Priestess' heir leaned forward and kissed you. Kissing Agatha was always dizzying, but the passion in this swept you away. So caught up in it, so distracted by the ambitious witch, you didn't notice the sharpness in your chest. The brunette was kissing and biting your jaw when you realized there was a pressure building behind your breast. Uncomfortable, the growing sensation soon turned painful. You were pushing at Agatha, trying to get her attention before this got worse. You cried leaned back, catching sight of her purple hands. You didn't believe it. You tried to get away, but she held you close, still affectionately loving your flesh. Your already pained heart broke as you realized you were the sacrifice and Agatha was going Dark. In the end, you died of a broken heart in Agatha's arms.

With her love limp, Agatha stopped attending what couldn't be felt. She leaned away to take in your empty eyes and a lap soon filled with the most powerful text in the world. "I am sorry." The brunette scooped the Book of the Damned up. Though you couldn't balance yourself, Agatha held you up against her, going through her prize. The Darkhold was fascinating. She was occupied for hours, waiting for your return. But she only took further note of you when you began to stiffen and dropped in temperature.

The overconfident witch knew great power required a great will. Agatha had to be willing to give up her true love, but you should've come back by now. It was only a test after-all. She used her magic, already double in power, to check you.

What she found was disturbing. When a witch is in stasis - of any sort - her essentials remain: her life, her soul, and her magic. But you had none. Those hazel eyes opened, but Agatha was no longer confident. She shook your face as if you were playing a game on her. As the young woman began to accept the possibility, she was already aggressively thumbing through the Darkhold. "No- no- please- please no." She found a page on necromancy and studied it more intently than her beloved Latin. "Please come back to me," she whispered, her voice cracking. Since it was not impossible given the speed of your death, Agatha came to the conclusion that this was her next big project. If it took centuries to study and perfect, even it she had to kill every last human and witch.

But there was, of course, a catch. Any sacrifice - for more power, a spellbook , anything magic - could never be undone. Agatha threw the book. She bear-hugged your now freezing corpse. There was no give. You didn't bend when she lifted you. But still Agatha tried to find a way. She tried her magic, of course. She tried to spark your life back on her own. Of course that didn't work. The power of now three Agatha's wasn't God. She tried to call your soul with your, yours' mate. But it had passed on and you likely refused the invocation, on fear. Those long fingers which had bruised your wrist already gently caressed your cold face. She stared into your still open lifeless eyes and tried to shut them. But rigor mortis couldn't be fought and they opened right back, staring judgingly into her soul. A horrid loneliness filled her chest.

Agatha would sit with you until she was arrested by her own kind. It was only at her would-be execution that anyone, Agatha's mother actually, would tell her she'd traded her love for the Book. As long as she lived, with her now ruined soul, the Darkhold would be her burden and even in death, she would never see you again.