The Queen having her meet her in the royal palace was a gutsy move, Aly had to admit. This woman was either insanely shrewd or suicidal. Possibly both. In any case, she was now standing just outside the door of the room in which she was supposed to meet this infamous Queen, staring up, scowling, and trying her best not to show any fear to the seven foot tall creature that was almost entirely ignoring her presence. She had never seen one so up-close before. Save for at the battle of Tarbes where some of them charged past her, but that was a blurred, frantic look while she was more focused on trying to survive and protect Julien.
You may go in now, Terran, a feminine voice spoke in her head, echoing and ethereal. Aly whipped her head around for the source of it. Do not panic, I am merely speaking to you as all Protoss do. Through psionics.
Aly turned her attention to the creature that towered over her, finding it had locked its glowing blue eyes with her own. Was this how they sounded? Did they all speak in people's heads? Aly felt fear from the sheer unfamiliarity of this gripping her heart.
I do not have time to explain to you the finer points of Protoss communication, simply enter as Queen Henrietta has requested, the being before her, which she was now surmising was called a "Protoss" implored with a bit of an impatient tone as it motioned to the door.
Aly stepped forward, opening the door as she did and giving one last look of trepidation to this "Protoss" that was no longer acknowledging her existence before entering the room.
"I'm glad you could join us," a friendly, feminine voice greeted her, aloud, causing Aly to look to its source, seeing the woman herself.
Queen Henrietta. Her purple eyes met with Aly's hazel ones, and her face betrayed nothing but sincere friendliness to this ex-soldier turned revolutionary. Still, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the Queen before nodding and stepping forward.
"That's close enough," a surly blonde with short, somewhat messy hair threatened her as she held out her hand.
"It's alright, Agnes, no need to be rude to our guest," Henrietta gently admonished her.
Agnes, a name Aly had heard before. One of the Queen's most vicious attack dogs among her thralls.
There was also another woman here Agnes did not recognize. Taller than any of them, but not terribly so, with two long locks of faded blonde hair falling into a frame around her bespectacled face that wore a kind of knowing smirk.
"Who's the old lady?" Aly asked in a nonchalant manner.
"I'm not even thirty yet," the woman snapped as her smirk fell and she scowled at Aly.
"Easy now, Matilda," Henrietta said. "I'm sure she meant no disrespect." Henrietta gave Aly a knowing look. Aly, furrowing her brow, merely scoffed and shrugged, much to Matilda's chagrin.
"Why am I here? Bold of you to invite the enemy into your inner sanctum like this," Aly wondered aloud as she kept giving Henrietta a scrutinizing look, looking for any kind of read on her that was not just "friendly" and "sociable".
"Really? I see it as inviting over a potential friend and ally," Henrietta replied, amused.
"Remember what happened the day of your coronation?" Aly asked with a smirk and a vaguely threatening tone, seeing Henrietta's smirk fall as she furrowed her brow and nodded. "What makes you think I'm not carrying a bomb right now?"
Agnes began to draw her sword and Matilda her wand. Henrietta raised her hands to both of them as she stood up, causing them both to immediately calm.
"Then," Henrietta began as she walked from behind her desk and placed herself right in front of Aly, leaving merely inches between them, "now would be the time to use it."
Aly's eyes widened in surprise. She was undersold on just how shrewd this woman was. Or suicidal.
"You may be thinking I'm suicidal," Henrietta began, causing Aly to small, sharp, involuntary breath at what she felt was her thoughts being listened to, "but I assure you, it was simple deduction. Anyone Julien would trust I know would do no such heinous thing."
Aly's eyes narrowed. "What would you know about him? About any of us? From your ivory tower?"
It was now Henrieta's turn to narrow her eyes. "You forget. I was on the frontlines as well."
"In the back! Giving the orders that slaughtered us!"
"I was right there!" Henrietta shouted, finally breaking her calm demeanor as Aly could see a deeply, sincerely pained look in her eye, "I saw them. I held men, no, boys in my arms as they cried out for their families. Just like you did. The only difference is I came to a different conclusion on what is to be done."
Henrietta unconsciously reached to soothe a phantom pain that manifested on her lower left abdomen.
"You've concentrated your power to rule with an iron fist," Aly jabbed.
"No. I've expanded public resources and tried to reduce taxes for the people, but that damn royal court is in the way…"
"You could have just stepped down. Joined us in our fight against the monarchy."
"Oh? And let the royal court and the rest of the nobles be your rulers instead?" Henrietta snapped.
"The ones who have pledged to support us have proven to be valuable allies!" Aly retorted.
"And you're sure they're not just buttering you up to feast on you all later when they have power?" Henrietta interrogated.
"No, you can't convince me with your silver tongue. Anything is better than being a slave to the crown," Aly declared.
"I am no slave to the crown."
"You ARE the crown!"
Henrietta removed and threw her crown on the floor with a series of clangs as it bounced and rolled away from her while giving Aly, who briefly followed it with her eyes, a look of conviction.
"I never wanted it!" Henrietta exclaimed.
"Then why do you wear it?" Aly interrogated.
"Because I know the moment I step down? The Jacobins will take over. And we will be subjected to a reign of terror as they eliminate everyone who they feel will threaten their power. It will simply pave the way for a new tyranny," Henrietta shook her head, "no, for now I have to build the infrastructure and power base to hand over to the people, not the rich."
"Obviously," Aly rolled her eyes, "but we also need to use what resources we can. And we can't accomplish anything without at least some of the nobles supporting our cause."
"Ah, now we're reaching an understanding," Henrietta smirked, "using what resources we can to make the changes we can. That's exactly what I'm doing."
"All while consolidating your power," Aly replied, incredulous.
"My power is being chipped away at by the royal court. I've had little to no control over what's been going on in the country very recently," Henrietta, seeing Aly's disbelieving face, turned and gathered papers on her desk that she was planning to present to this expected guest. "See?"
Aly took the pile of papers from her, glossing over tax decrees, proclamations of new laws, rescinding of personal rights, all things Aly knew the Queen was doing.
Or at least she did know.
Now, seeing they all lacked any signature or seal of approval? And that the wording of these documents indicated the Queen's authority was being circumvented? The seed of doubt had been planted. Just barely. Still, her convictions were strong and she furrowed her brow at Henrietta as she tossed the pile of papers aside, making a mess as she did.
"You think some forged documents can fool me?" Aly growled.
"I also wanted you to take a look at this," Henrietta turned around and grabbed one, singular paper that she handed over to Aly. It looked to be a list of names. With lines drawn between them. She also recognized the structure in which these names were arranged. Into cells, like how the Jacobins were organized.
"Is this supposed to intimidate me?" Aly interrogated.
"No, it's supposed to open your eyes. Read the names," Henrietta requested.
Aly, shaking her head, returned her gaze to the paper, seeing a few names of fellow footsoldiers like her. But, above them, the names were only vaguely familiar, except for the codenames of their organization, named by animal. One name did, however, catch her eye in a manner that Henrietta was hoping to notice. It was someone she knew the codename of that was at least a layer above her own cell leader.
The Dolphin/High Justice Mott, Aly read these words with venom in her heart. This had to be a trick. She must have known about how the Count had taken one of her childhood friends, only for her headless, defiled body to be found somewhere near his mansion in the woods. This was on purpose, to get to her, specifically.
"You bitch…" Aly snarled as she crumpled the paper in her hand, "Using my past against me? That's disgusting. Even for you."
"What do you mean?" Henrietta asked.
"DON'T PLAY DUMB!" Aly bellowed as she threw the crumpled paper at Henrietta and thrust a finger at her, "You must have known! You planted his name!"
"Whose?" Henrietta genuinely asked.
Aly, blinded by rage, could not pick up on Henrietta's genuine ignorance as she lunged at the Queen, causing Agnes and Matilda to immediately grab and hold her back.
"Let me go! Traitors! You're both traitors to the people!" Aly cried out, tears of rage forming and streaming down her face.
"Tell me who you're talking about!" Henrietta demanded.
"That bastard Mott! You planted that name there! You knew what he did to my friend! Think you can get to me using my emotions like that? Fuck you!" Aly spit at Henrietta, with it landing on her chest.
"How DARE you disrespect and accuse her majesty of such things! My Queen! Grant me permission to end this worm!" Agnes snarled.
"No!" Henrietta ordered as she furrowed her brow at Aly, "I promise, I had no idea. I know that man's history. He came and told me himself when he was appointed High Justice. Just to taunt me," Henrietta's face was becoming contorted with a rage that Aly could feel was genuine, causing her own to lessen. "Appointing him as High Justice? After what he confessed to? What a sick joke… I would have had him executed had the court not voted against it."
"You're just saying this to make me let my guard down," Aly guessed as she struggled against her captors.
"He was about to do to Julien's sister what he did to all those other girls," Henrietta plainly stated, with a hint of venom in her tone, as well, towards Mott.
Aly faltered as she could see the genuine anger on Henrietta's face.
"Do you believe me now? That the Jacobins are just puppets and a front for the rich?"
A heavy moment of silence hung over the room as Aly was let go, causing her to fall to her knees and hang her head.
"No…" that may have been the word leaving Aly's mouth, but the others within the room, and the one without, could tell otherwise.
"I've given you the information," Henrietta said as she turned to sit back down at the chair behind her desk. "What you do with it now is up to you."
Another moment of silence passed before Aly lifted her head and began to rise to her feet, giving Henrietta blank, solemn expression. "Why go to all this trouble to convert me? I'm just a footsoldier."
"You sell yourself short," Henrietta said with a small, gentle tone and smile, "I think both of us understand that the unraveling of a tapestry begins with a single thread."
Aly gave her a look of understanding before scowling at the Queen once more. "I still don't trust you," she said as she turned to leave.
"Good," Henrietta replied, causing Aly to pause for a moment before she finally opened the door to leave. Once the door was shut, Henrietta released a breath she didn't know she was holding as she slumped in her chair.
After a moment, she looked over to Matilda expectantly.
"So that's why I'm here?" Matilda asked as she met Henrietta's gaze, incredulous.
"Well?" Henrietta asked.
Matilda hummed for a bit as she fondled her chin, "She's convinced. Even if she won't admit it."
"So you're psionic, too?" It was Agnes' turn to be incredulous.
"Nah," Matilda scoffed, "As a fellow defector, I can see it in her eyes."
Henrietta gave a wry chuckle as she sat up straight and nodded to Matilda, "Very well, consider yourself pardoned. You're free to go."
Matilda breathed a sigh of relief at this as she bowed her head to Henrietta, "Thank you, your majesty."
"On one condition," Henrietta held up a finger.
"Of course…" Matilda said, exasperated.
"Keep an eye on Aly. Make sure no harm comes to her," Henrietta ordered as she interlaced her fingers before her face and furrowed her brow at the door, "I have a feeling she'll need protection."
Matilda sighed as she nodded and turned to leave the room. Once she had shut the door, Henrietta leaned back and gave a warm smile to Agnes who, upon noticing this, started to fidget anxiously.
"What is it, your highness?" Agnes asked, sheepish.
"I'm just glad to see you loosening up," Henrietta said with a giggle.
"What do you mean?" Agnes once again asked, looking at anything but Henrietta.
"Well, you've never taken a day off before," Henrietta gave her a knowing smirk, "whoever it is must be very special."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Agnes blushed, stumbling over her words.
"Oh I think you do," Henrietta teased as she opened a drawer and gave her an envelope that was sealed with wax that had been pressed with the royal coat of arms. "Here, I think you'll want to give this to her, personally."
"Whom do you mean? And who said it was a woman?" Agnes stuttered as she roughly snatched the envelope.
"I know you better than you think," Henrietta winked at her most trusted guard. "How about you take the rest of today off as well?"
"But my Queen, I couldn't possibly-!"
"It's already decided," Henrietta held up a hand to interrupt her. "I have Atindrias. I'll be fine."
Agnes was at a loss for words. Finally, after a moment of silence that was uncomfortable for only one of them, she nodded as she went to take her leave.
"See you in a few days, at the party, Agnes," Henrietta said cheerfully.
"Yes, your highness, I will see you in a few days," Agnes confirmed as she left the room.
Now alone, Henrietta sat back in her chair and breathed a contented sigh of relief. Things really did seem to be looking up for her friends, finally, despite her own personal circumstances. She really hoped the others had gotten their invitations as well.
Louise awoke to the ambient light of the sun warming her face. She was grateful that whoever built this mansion was aware of the sun's positioning to make such waking comfortable. She stretched her still-nude form, feeling a few pops from her waking joints as she yawned. With that done, she turned to look down at Siesta, who was still peacefully sleeping.
I usually don't wake up first, Louise noted with a small smile as she leaned down to peck her wife's cheek, causing the sleeping woman to instinctually smile with a tiny, pleased hum while she rolled over.
Louise stifled a small giggle.
She does so much for us. I'll let her sleep, Louise decided as she stood up and went over to pick up her hastily discarded nightgown from last night, feeling that even if they were alone in this manor, it would be prudent not to wander around it nude. She also spied something that gave her pause.
And tickled her curiosity.
I wonder… Louise thought as she reached out to Siesta's silvery gauntlet-turned-bracer on the nightstand, picking it up and examining it.
This probably won't work, but… Louise thought as she slid it over her right wrist. At first, just as she suspected, it proved a little too large for her, but as she was about to remove it, something within the gauntlet manifested and clung firmly, yet comfortably, to her wrist.
Huh. That Karax is something else, she thought this as she raised the bracer to see her face reflected in the red-orange inlaid jorium crystal that would be at the back of her arm before turning her arm around to look at the other side, plain and silvery but not as reflective.
That was when she felt something within her. Calling out to her. Welling up inside her.
She closed her fist and her eyes, remembering Zeratul's meditation lessons.
The Void.
It was always there within her, usually just at the edges of her mind. Not something she dwelt upon. This time, she invited it, like opening the door for an expected guest. And like such a guest, it wandered in, familiar.
That was when she felt the heat of something near her face, and she slowly opened her eyes to see a pink, opaque light before her that made her eyes fly open the moment they beheld what was going on. She audibly yelped and moved the ignited warp blade from her face.
No way! Louise thought in denial, even as she was seeing it with her own eyes.
She thought the blade's color was set. A black blade with snarling red energies crackling off of it was how she remembered when Siesta manifested this. It still snarled and crackled with energy, as a warp-manifested blade would be, of course, but now it was a brilliant, vivid, almost white pink.
She turned away from Siesta's still somehow sleeping form and swiped it in the air a few times, trying, but not totally succeeding, to replicate how she saw her wife use it. While she was clearly not even an amateur, the feeling this gave her still felt like a rush.
This is amazing! I wish Zeratul could see this! I need to start training like Siesta now!
Zeratul had been occupying himself aboard the Spear of Adun since the return from Gallia. Something about keeping apprised of the larger developments. She did wonder why he would leave them like this, but perhaps it spoke to how much he trusted each of them to protect each other.
That thought warmed her heart. That they'd come so far in just about a year. Since meeting that old Protoss who made her faint at first sight.
Awash with nostalgia, she looked at the blade, now wondering how it was turned off. She knew it had something to do with how she activated it. She just had to focus. But in the opposite direction. She closed her eyes once more and tried to will her energy to stop extending itself. She could feel the power she summoned within begin to leave, like saying goodbye to the friend she invited in. At this, she opened her eyes, seeing the blade gone, left with only the bracer, glinting in the ambient sunlight.
Once more, she took a look at Siesta, who was still peacefully sleeping just as she was earlier.
I'd never known her to be such a heavy sleeper… Louise mused as she walked over to her and pushed some stray strands of hair from her face as she smiled. She's so beautiful. I still can't believe she wants me. That old insecurity of hers reared its ugly head, causing her smile to drop for just a moment.
No, she beat it back down, she's proven over and over she'd be there for me. That she wants me and only me. I can trust her. She then leaned down, tucking her own hair behind her ear as she did, and kissed Siesta's sleeping lips.
"Mm… Louise…" Siesta mumbled as a smile broke out on her face once more.
I love her, Louise thought, blushing, as she decided to take this rare opportunity of being up before her wife to be the one to fix them some food.
The kitchen's larder had maintained its cooling spell, thankfully, and the scant food they brought was safe within as she browsed the contents. Not much, unfortunately, was there to choose from. Half a loaf of bread. Some cheese. A quarter of ham. But then…
Eggs! Louise saw them. Just four. She grew giddy at the thought of surprising her wife with breakfast just as Siesta had done for her. Time for my revenge!
Just as she stepped out of the larder, a soft hand was clasped tightly over her mouth.
"Don't make a sound, cutie," a girlish voice whispered with a lustful menace in her ear that immediately made Louise drop the eggs, causing them to splatter to the ground as she froze in terror.
"Mm," the voice hummed in her ear as the other hand of whoever was holding her began to trace her body, hitching up her nightgown, "You're really something else, you know? And, hey, since you like girls, maybe you'll like me? I promise I won't hurt you. Much."
"That's enough, Jeanette," a stern, masculine voice spoke up from beyond the kitchen as Louise heard footsteps approaching, revealing the owner of the voice to belong to a man, no, a boy? He looked to be about Louise's age or younger, blonde, wearing a feathered tricorn hat and sporting a loose ponytail adorned with a white bow. His clothes looked as though he were some kind of swashbuckling pirate Louise would read about in stories as a child, with a heavy coat over a petticoat that was covering a loose white shirt adorned with a red tie that disappeared into the aforementioned petticoat and loose pants with thick, slightly heeled boots.
"Aw, don't be such a spoilsport, Bleu, just look at her face," this "Jeanette" lasciously said as she took the hand upon Louise's face and squeezed her cheeks together whilst Louise struggled.
"HE-"
Before Louise could shout, she felt the prick of a knife against her neck.
"I thought I told you to be quiet," Jeanette hissed threateningly into her ear. "Wouldn't want things to get the wrong kind of messy before we've had our fun, yes?" Louise felt the sting of tears as she whimpered helplessly against her captor.
"Jeanette…" Bleu growled as he walked up to the two, furrowing the brow above his aquamarine eyes at whoever was holding Louise.
"Ugh, fine! Clam jammer," Jeanette spat in an exasperated tone, causing Bleu to shudder and cringe.
"I don't need to hear such things from my sister!" Bleu exclaimed, flustered.
The woman holding Louise, who was about her height, giggled, "You're too easily flustered, Bleu."
"And you're a shameless pedophile."
The blade at Louise's throat, much to her panic, began to prick a little harder at this.
"It's called ephebophilia." Jeanette insisted.
"Look at her! She barely looks like a teenager!" Bleu exclaimed.
Louise immediately glared at the young man, interrupting his squabble enough for him to notice and give an amused smirk.
"Looks like I touched a nerve."
"Oh really? Let me see!" Jeanette excitedly exclaimed as she suddenly grabbed Louise's hair and jerked her head back, painfully, to finally get a good look at her captor.
Her brilliant emerald eyes bore into Louise's with a transparent lust that immediately made Louise uncomfortable, which, upon noticing this, caused this periwinkle-haired girl's face to twist into a lecherous grin.
"You're right! She looks absolutely delicious," Jeanette licked her lips, leaned forward and ran her tongue across Louise's cheek, causing her to squeak in fear while she trembled. "Oh what fun we could have…" Jeanette began running the knife's edge down Louise's nightgown-adorned body.
Bleu sighed with exasperated disappointment as she did this, shaking his head.
"Jeanette, stop playing with your food and let's go. Damien's willpower won't keep the other one at bay forever."
No! What did they do to Siesta?! Louise thought in a panic.
Jeanette also released an exasperated sigh at this, "Fine, fine. Big brother always making me eat my vegetables."
At this, Louise felt a terrible, piercing pain in her back that caused all the air to leave her lungs, making her unable to scream. A moment later, she found she was unable to move at all.
"Don't forget to breathe, cutie, you're worthless to us dead." Jeanette taunted her in a sultry voice as Louise began to be dragged out of the house.
As she was, in the morning light, she saw another blonde individual, this one was transparently a child, with a brass horn instrument the size of his whole body beside him, with the opening pointed at the ground. Beside him, an exceptionally tall and muscled man with deeply tanned skin and scars across his whole body approached the leaving siblings.
"Did you take care of the guard dog, Bao?" Bleu asked.
"Heh, you know it. Didn't stand a chance," this "Bao" scoffed as he smirked.
Louise could not turn her head to see what he was talking about, but her heart pounded in fear all the same.
"We got her, Damien, let's go," Jeanette informed the boy, who picked up his horn instrument as though it were nothing and slung it over his shoulder.
"Good timing, my willpower was just about out, she's strong," Damien commented as he joined the other three, smirking as he did.
Louise found herself unceremoniously dragged into an open cart. As she was, what little movement she could manage manifested as her eyes widened in horror at what she saw. Impaled by a stone spike, laying motionless, smoking, sparking, and with pieces of them glinting everywhere in the light of dawn was the husk of what was her familiar.
Would that she could scream. Instead, all that manifested upon her face were hot tears that poured from her eyes.
"Aw, you even look cute when you're crying," Jeanette giggled as she gently caressed Louise's face. "Maybe when this is all over your mother will give me her blessing. After she pays us, of course."
What? Mother? Louise was both horrified and confused at this.
"Let's get out of here before the other one wakes up. Don't wanna be on the wrong side of the Blade of Henrietta, from what I've heard," Bleu cautioned as the cart jolted forward and they left the scene of their crime.
Siesta awoke peacefully, yet her body felt more like it had been a victim of oversleeping than healthy sleeping. While still laying down, she stretched out her body with a high pitched groan, letting the covers fall from her. After a moment, and taking a deep breath, she reached over to find something missing.
"Louise?" Siesta asked aloud, now whipping her head around to look for any sign of her wife.
She quickly sat up, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed as she did, and blinked in an owl-like manner several times to clear her vision while she observed her surroundings, lit by the full power of the morning's light. Not seeing anything, she stood up, grabbing and throwing on her nightgown that she had hastily discarded last night, and began walking with purpose throughout the house, both verbally and psionically calling out for Louise.
After clearing the floor she was on, panic manifested within her, running down the stairs and checking each room until she ended up in the kitchen. She saw three things that immediately made her surmise what had happened, to her horror.
The open larder.
The broken eggs.
And blood. Not a lot. Obviously from a wound, and not a lethal one, but it was blood nonetheless. And almost dry.
Maybe there's still time! Please be okay, Louise! Siesta threw on her boots and bolted outside, still in her nightgown, scanning the surroundings until her eyes locked onto-
"NO! KHAYDARIN!" Siesta desperately cried out as she sprinted to the side of the motionless, lifeless probe, sinking to her knees as she trembled.
"No… this isn't right…" Siesta denied even as she absentmindedly tried picking up pieces of them and trying to place them back onto their body… only for them to uselessly fall to the ground.
"What happened? Khaydarin…" Siesta felt her voice crack as the burning of a fountain of tears hit her while she collapsed onto the body of the probe, keening for them and her missing wife.
She was unsure how much time had passed from when she fell into this state of mourning, but she began to realize that right now she could not spare a moment. Not even for her friend. She stood up, still crying as she was, and placed a hand on Khaydarin's body.
I'm sorry… Siesta thought as she looked out to the horizon, calculating her next move.
Finally coming upon a solution, her sadness gave way. To an inferno of rage. Without any weapon upon her person, her Gandalfr runes glowed and her body swelled with power as she sprinted towards her destination: the Nexus at Tarbes.
Tiffa was anxious. It had been so long since she had been on any kind of personal outing. Let alone a date. She hoped it was a date, at least. When she was approached by Agnes and asked to go shopping for formal wear for a little reward ceremony the Queen had arranged for Siesta and company for their efforts in Gallia, how could she say anything but yes?
They hadn't talked since they last saw each other over a week ago following their daring escape from Gallia, and Tiffa had been worried that, perhaps, she had made things uncomfortable for the musketeer that she could not deny had set her heart aflutter in a way she hadn't felt since Beatrice.
Beatrice… the very thought of her still soured her soul and caused a prickle on the back of her neck. And yet, she still found this hate tempered with melancholy. That Beatrice would choose to be the way she was to her instead of trying to be better did not just make her angry. It broke her heart. Perhaps she may always wonder why she would choose to be worse. Perhaps she will forget about it someday. Today was not that day.
Her solemn musings were interrupted by Agnes calling out to her, causing her to snap her head up at the musketeer, who was being measured.
"Are you alright?" Agnes asked, a concerned look on her face.
Tiffa shook her head dismissively while cracking a small smile. "Just… thinking."
Her tone of deflection was not lost on Agnes as she gestured for the tailor to stop and walked over to Tiffa, furrowing her brow at her.
"We have forged a bond greater than steel on the field of battle. As your sister-in-arms, and as your friend, I ask that you confide in me," Agnes implored.
Tiffa, at first, failed to meet her gaze, looking sheepish and anxious. Her eyes instead fell on the many beautiful dresses surrounding them, which Agnes noticed made her melancholy more apparent.
Before Agnes could say anything, Tiffa stood up, looking down at a vibrant, flowing, yellow dress that was many times too small for her towering and broad frame that nearly touched the tailor shop's ceiling. She removed one of her gloves and ran her fingers over it, sighing as she did while she looked down to her own black and red robes and armor designed purely for striking fear into her enemy's hearts.
"I'll never get to enjoy pretty things," Tiffa lamented in a near-whisper. "It was decided for me before I was even born. I was cursed to be this lumbering, monstrous half-breed. Even now people still look at me with fear. I can see it in their eyes. I can feel their prejudice. Those that think they can hide it from me?" Tiffa briefly glanced at the tailor, who quickly averted her gaze and pretended to be fascinated with the measuring tape in her hands, "Are more obvious than they think…"
Tiffa turned back to the dress and once again stared longingly at it.
"I just wish I was smaller… more normal. Human, at least." Indeed, a great many of the problems in her life would not have occurred if she were only human.
Tiffa's lamentations were interrupted as she felt a hand take her one bare hand, and she looked down to see Agnes looking up at her with conviction.
"Tiffa," Agnes began, with an empathetic yet chastening tone, "Do not forfeit your battles before they have begun. You are perfect to me." She finished this with a warm, yet determined, smile at Tiffa, who found herself breaking into a smile of her own as her anxieties and self-consciousness felt diluted.
"Tailor!" Agnes barked, causing the woman to jump and look at her. Agnes thrust a finger at the dress, "Resize this for her immediately!"
"Well, that is, I, well, you see…" the Tailor stumbled over her words, trying to find an excuse.
Agnes merely scowled, causing her to freeze for a moment before giving a defeated sigh and carefully meeting Tiffa's gaze.
"I'll need your measurements, then, dear," the woman said as she stretched the measuring tape before her. Tiffa looked at her, feeling the sting of joyous tears in her eyes. She took a moment to look down at Agnes, who gave her a confident smirk and nod of approval before Tiffa turned back to the tailor.
"Yes ma'am," Tiffa sputtered back as she stepped forward.
Their sweet moment was not to last, however, as the breaking of the shop's windows caused everyone within to turn to the entrance to see familiar-looking knights clad in thick, heavy, gray armor jump through the newly-formed openings while the door was broken down, sending splinters and glass flying at the trio.
Tiffa jumped in front of Agnes, taking her into her arms and turning her back to the incoming projectiles. She felt some stinging at the bits that were not deflected by the combination of hardened leather armor she wore over her robe and her psionic shield, but otherwise was left unscathed while Agnes was fully protected. Before they could react any further, however, Tiffa was grabbed by her arms and torn from Agnes.
"Hey! Just what do you-?" Agnes was cut off by a blow to the back of her head with what felt like the pommel of a sword, causing her to immediately fall to her knees.
"AGNES!" Tiffa desperately cried out, struggling against her captors. As she did, she began to feel that same, draining red energy begin to build up around her, causing the knights holding her to loosen their grip in fear.
"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," a familiar, haughty, taunting voice was heard from behind Tiffa, causing her eyes to go wide and her body to freeze.
No, not her, not again… Tiffa thought desperately as she immediately felt herself revert to a useless, scared child as the twin-tailed owner of the voice stepped before her, looking down at her with a wicked, smug, victorious grin.
"You… what are you doing here?" Agnes snarled as she attempted to rise to her feet, feeling the back of her head and looking at her hand to see it covered in blood, much to her dismay.
"Hush, hussy, this is a conversation between lovers. No homewreckers allowed!"
Agnes received another blow to the back of her head. This time it was definitely a fist. Not a gauntleted one, thankfully. Tiffa was looking up at the one beating Agnes, feeling helpless as she stared into this princely blonde's heterochromatic red and blue eyes.
"Hey, you can dominate beasts, yes? Go ahead with her, would you?" Beatrice ordered the man, who scowled at her in response.
"I cannot dominate the sapient. That is not how it works," the man replied.
"Wait… Julio?" Agnes asked, her eyes wide with confusion as she turned her head to look up at her attacker. Recognition dawned on her face as she looked up at the man, and she began to grind her teeth in fury. "You TRAIT-!" she was cut off by Julio ramming his fist into her face, causing her to collapse to the ground once more.
"AGNES!" Tiffa cried out once more before looking to Beatrice with a pleading look, "Stop! Please! What do you want?"
At this, Beatrice smirked as she stepped closer to Tiffa, placing a heeled-shoe foot on Agnes' head as she did, "What I've always wanted, my dear Tif'narak. You!" Beatrice's tone sounded girlish and enamored, but Tiffa could feel the threatening malice behind it.
"Never! Just let us go! Please!" Tiffa shouted, feeling no will to struggle against her captors as the trauma paralyzed her. At this, Beatrice's smirk faded into an ominous, threatening visage.
"I don't think you understand the situation here," Beatrice said as she stepped off Agnes' head and snapped her fingers, causing Julio to grab Agnes' head by her hair and jerk her up before putting his sword to her throat.
Tiffa's heart swelled with fear as she kept looking back and forth between Beatrice and the struggling Agnes, who was trying her best not to be cut by the blade. Seeing this, Beatrice smirked once more.
"Come with me willingly… or your little sword slut dies."
Tiffa was faced with an impossible choice. She looked to Agnes for some kind of reassurance that they could get out of this. Instead, Agnes gave her a defiant shaking of her head. Tiffa did not need to reach out to her to know what she was thinking. And Tiffa wouldn't allow her to do it.
"Alright…" Tiffa muttered weakly as her head fell in defeat.
"Hm? What was that? Speak up, darling," Beatrice taunted her as she leaned her head over.
"I said 'alright'!" Tiffa repeated as she raised her head and gave Beatrice a simultaneously defiant and desperate look. "Just… let her go. Please."
Beatrice leaned down, giving Tiffa a sultry smile as she tilted her head to forcibly meet her gaze.
"That's my good girl," Beatrice cooed in a lascivious manner.
Tiffa's eyes averted from her. Beatrice once again smirked as she nodded to two Dragon Knights that were behind the ones holding Tiffa on her knees.
"Take her weapon," Beatrice ordered.
One of the new knights leaned over and, shaking as they did, snatched Tiffa's unignited scythe on her back, jumping back right after he did.
"Bind her and get her loaded on one of the dragons. We're leaving," Beatrice ordered next, causing Tiffa to be pulled to her feet and dragged out of the ruined shop while she gave a desperate look and silent apologies to Agnes, who was still held on her knees with a blade to her throat. Once she was out of the shop, and out of earshot of Beatrice, Julio, and Agnes, another wicked grin broke out on the Princess' face as she turned to look down at Agnes, who was glaring at her.
"Such a disrespectful face, homewrecker," Beatrice sucked her teeth and shook her head as she leaned in close to Agnes. "Now… what shall I do with you?"
Agnes spit blood in her face, causing Beatrice to recoil and give a revolted exclamation. She scowled down at Agnes, who smirked at her, before turning to Julio.
"Kill her," Beatrice cooly ordered as she looked around for something to wipe her face with, deciding on a bright yellow dress as she walked over to it.
"Princess, you gave your word," Julio retorted, sounding hesitant.
Beatrice, when she was done wiping her face, looked over to him with a furrowed brow.
"I gave nothing of the sort," Beatrice replied before stepping up to Julio, "The pope himself has granted me his full authority in carrying out this mission. As such, you will obey me the same as you would him. Now, Windalfr, run her through!" Beatrice spat as she narrowed her eyes at him.
Agnes could not see Julio's own scowl directed at Beatrice. Her heart pounded once she heard a defeated breath leave Julio's nose and saw Beatrice's face become overcome with its usual smugness.
Julio leaned down near Agnes' ear, whispering, in a solemn, regretful tone, "Mi dispiace, amica…"
The blade was suddenly removed from Agnes' throat, only for her to feel and see it run through her torso. She tried, but failed, to let out a gasp, a scream, something, but found the air had left her lungs. All Agnes could see was Beatrice's bright, yet malevolent, grin before the near-silent shop was filled with the wet sound of metal sliding against flesh as it was pulled out of her and she felt herself pushed over.
As her vision and other senses faded, she could hear a girlish giggling as she was stepped over.
No… not here. Not like this… Tiffa… were Agnes' last thoughts.