Break Free (The Restraints of Duty)

The sun rose and chased the night away.

Rio was already up when Agatha stirred. She was standing at the edge of the clearing, back straight, and one hand resting on her sword.

Aside from instructing her to finish up the remainder of the berries and rabbit for breakfast, the Knight hasn’t said a word since to the Lady as they continued their trek.

Agatha decided she had enough and broke the silence. “If you continue to brood, the storm clouds may as well start asking you for advice, Ser Knight.”

Rio’s jaw tense, but didn’t respond.

“Really? No retort?” Agatha pulled her cloak around herself to combat the morning chill, “Not even a ‘be silent, my lady?’”

Still, silence.

Agatha tilted her head. “You are not still contemplating about last night, are you?”

That got a reaction. Rio’s shoulders stiffened ever so slightly.

She sighed. “Ri—.”

“I could have hurt you.”

The words came out flat and strained.

Agatha stepped closer, ignoring how Rio’s gaze stayed fixed ahead. “But you did not.”

“That does not matter, my lady.”

“Of course it matters.” Agatha quickly countered.

Rio didn’t answer, her mouth a grim line.

The weight of her guilt pressed down so thickly that Agatha could almost feel it.

The silence between them came back. Only the distant rustling of leaves and the faint chirp of a bird somewhere in the branches above kept Agatha from screaming just to have some noise.

She pursed her lips. “Is this how the remainder of the journey is going to be now?”

Rio finally turned to look at her. “What?”

“This,” Agatha pointed vaguely between them. “The brooding. The silence.”

Rio’s frown deepened. “It is not—.”

“It absolutely is.” Agatha crossed her arms and squared her shoulders. “Frankly, it is very dramatic. Brooding at dawn, jaw clenched tight as if you are posing for a statue being made in your honor in the royal square.” A sly smile creeped onto her face despite the tension. “If I did not know better, I would think you were trying to impress me.

Rio blinked, cleared taken off guard. “I am not—.”

“Good. Because it is not working.”

Rio stared at her, exasperation flickering behind her stoic expression.

“There it is!” Agatha declared, throwing her arms up like Rio just handed her a victory. “There is the Ser I have had the pleasure to know these past few weeks.”

A muscle in Rio’s jaw twitched. It was only for a brief moment, but Agatha caught how her mouth almost curved just at the corner.

“Admitting defeat, I see.”

Rio shook her head, turning back towards the woods. “We should keep moving, my lady.”

Agatha fell into step behind her as they began their journey again. She didn’t want to push her too hard because the flicker of their old banter was back and that was enough for her to tolerate the silence that returned.

Rio began walking slower than usual and Agatha thought she was being kind by taking it slow early in the morning until she noticed her sway and stumble.

Agatha darted forward and grabbed her arm and quickly noticed how hot Rio's skin was beneath the rough fabric of her sleeve.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake. Sit down, Ser Knight.” Agatha orders and tugged her arm down.

Rio didn’t protest which immediately concerned Agatha even more. She allowed herself to lower to the forest floor and leaned back against a tree trunk with a slow, measure breath. There was a dullness in Rio’s eyes and a subtle flush to her skin as a faint sheen of sweat gathered at her temples despite the crisp air.

Agatha crouched in front of her. She reached out and pressed a hand on Rio’s forehead to confirm her suspicions. “Heavens. Your skin is burning up.”

“Great.” Agatha muttered, sitting back on her heels. “The one time you are not nagging, it is because you are half-dead with a fever.”

“I… am not… half-dead.” Rio rasped, her usual sternness lacking any bite.

“You resemble a boiled lobster, Ser.” Agatha pushed to her feet. “Stay here. I am going to search for something that may help cool you down.”

“I d—.”

“Do not dare say you do not need help,” Agatha firmly cut her off. “Just stay here and let me take the role of nursemaid for a bit and try not to die.”

Her brows furrowed. “I will not die.”

“Not if I have anything to do about it.”

Agatha strode off into the woods in search for anything that will be useful, cursing under her breath about stubborn knights before Rio could argue — though it seemed like she barely had the strength to.

Agatha returned with a large leaf she found that had collected a small reservoir of water. She placed it on the ground between roots, careful to not spill the water. She ripped one of the sleeves of her dress and folded it like a handkerchief before submerging it in the water.

She knelt beside Rio again and pressed the wet cloth to her forehead.

Rio flinched and moved away from the sudden feeling of coolness but Agatha maneuvered her hand so the cloth stayed placed on her forehead.

“I swear, Ser Knight,” she murmured, touch gentler than her words, “if you make me drag your unconscious body through this forest I will be sure to tell tale of you fainting at the sight of spiders. I will even add embellishments about how you blubbered.”

Maybe due to her fever, but Rio’s mouth quirked into a fully formed small smile. “You would not dare.”

“Oh, I would.” Agatha smirked. “Need I remind you how much of a menace I am?”

A low chuckle escaped her, weak and genuine. “A menace. A reckless, relentless, incorrigible menace.”

Agatha’s hand lingered on her forehead, the cloth still pressed against her temple before she realized what she was doing and drew back quickly.

She shifted uncomfortably as she watched Rio lean her head back against the tree. Her breaths were now growing shallow and uneven and the wet cloth seemed to have little effect to cooling her off.

Her gaze flicked to the armor still strapped to her body. The layers of chainmail and leather and cloth seemed suffocating.

“Well, it seems like you are roasting in your own personal oven, Ser.” She cleared her throat. “I do not suppose you will… take off your own armor?”

Rio’s eyes opened, half-lidded and hazy. “I can do it myself.”

She lifted her hands to start unbuckling straps — or rather, she made a slow, pathetic attempt to. They fell back into her lap almost immediately.

Agatha exhaled sharply through her nose to stop the chuckle. “Fine. I will be of assistance. I did promise to act as a nursemaid.”

“…Fine.” Rio muttered.

It sounded more like surrender than agreement.

Agatha’s fingers worked quickly, undoing the straps and buckles with more care than she let on. The shoulder plates went first, clinking softly as she set them aside. Next was the chest piece. It was heavier than she expected, and Agatha marveled at how Rio was able to travel with something so heavy this entire time. Then, it was the chainmail underneath, links jingling quietly as she eased it off her. And finally, the leather vest.

By the time she was done, Rio was left in just her tunic dampened with sweat that clung uncomfortably to her fevered skin.

Even though the muscles were obvious, Rio looked smaller without the armor — less like the stoic knight and more like a woman like herself.

Agatha had to pause and take in the difference.

“See. You are no longer being baked.” Agatha cleared her throat, feigning nonchalance. “Now you are only half a knight without your armor.”

Rio huffed a weak, almost amused breath. “I am still a knight. I have my sword at my side, my lady." She weakly patted at the scabbard.

“Perhaps I should disarm you next,” Agatha folded the leather vest carefully and placed it beside her. “Just to be safe.”

Rio’s gaze flicked to her, the smile making its way back on her face. “You would like that, would you not, my lady?”

Her voice was low and rough — from the fever or something else, she wasn’t sure.

Agatha blinked.

For once, she found herself without a witty response.

Rio had closed her eyes and seemed to have fallen asleep.

She cleared her throat and reached for the cloth again, dipping it in the cool water and wrung out the excess.

“Save your strength. I would hate to carry all this armor and your brooding self through the woods.” Agatha said softly as she pressed the cloth back on Rio’s skin, her neck this time.

Rio’s head tilted ever so slightly into the press, shoulders slumping slightly and finally surrendering to her care as Agatha tended to her in silence.

After resting for a bit, Rio insisted they keep moving to not waste any more time.

Their pace was definitely slower with Rio seemingly forcing herself to even take a step and Agatha stubbornly insisting she carry the top half of Rio’s armor as part of their compromise to keep moving and not resting some more.

When the sun was positioned right above them, they finally reached a break in the trees. Agatha could see the relief wash over Rio at the sight of a small clearing of grass that surrounded a narrow ribbon of shallow water winding through the forest.

Rio almost beamed a youthful smile. “Finding a road is a definite guarantee. They often intersect with streams, my lady.”

The gentle babble of the water was comforting now with that knowledge. The water looked cool and inviting.

Agatha placed Rio’s armor carefully on the ground and turned to look at Rio and raised her eyebrows as she grinned.  “Might we make camp here now?”

Rio looked like she wanted to disagree and suggest they keep walking.

“Oh, come on, Ser.” Agatha scoffed and began to bunch the bottom of her dress and tie a knot to keep it above her knees. “What is one more night in the wood now that we know a road is close by? Besides, it has been a good few days covered in filth.”

She kicked off her boots and stepped into the stream, hissing as the cold water lapped at her ankles. “Sweet saints, that is freezing,” she exclaimed, but the complaint was half-hearted. She walked out of the stream and knelt at the edge, cupping the water in her hands and began to splash it over her arms, scrubbing away the dirt and grime for days of rough travel.

Rio gave a sigh of resignation and crouched beside her, using her sheathed sword as support, movement slow and careful, like she didn’t trust her strength at the moment. She scooped a handful of water and splashed it over her face, letting the cold shock pull her back to herself. She scrubbed the back of her neck, muscles in her forearms flexing beneath the soaked fabric of her tunic.

Suddenly, there was a splash of cold water that soaked her side. Rio turned her attention toward the direction it came from and saw Agatha’s mischievous smile before she swung her arm and sent another splash her way.

Agatha laughed heartily, her spirits lifting. “You look like a drowned cat, Ser Knight.”

Rio ran a hand through her hair, dark strands clinging to her forehead. “I suppose, it is better than smelling like a dead one, my lady.”

Agatha gasped, pressing a hand to her heart in mock astonishment. “Was that a joke, Ser? Careful, Rio. One more and I may actually start to think you are beginning to enjoy my company.”

Rio stared at her, brows slightly furrowed, trying to see if the Lady realized the sudden use of her name with no titles attached.

Agatha raised her brow. “What is it, Ser? Did the cat come back to life and get a hold of your tongue?”

Rio shook her head. “Nothing in particular, my lady.”

She turned back to the stream and cupped another handful of cool water to splash on her face.  She then stood and gestured back to the trees. “I will go and gather materials to make camp here. You may continue to clean up, my lady.”

The water may have been shallow, but the young Lady did not know how to swim so Rio made sure to not take long gathering materials.

Rio returned to the camp with an armful of firewood, her movements now sharper than earlier in the day despite the lingering ache in her muscles. The cool water from the stream had helped her fever decrease in temperature slightly and could feel her mind clear a bit.

As she stepped through the trees, the familiar sound of the rushing water reached her ears.

She expected to see Agatha sprawled on the grass, perhaps sharpening a twig just to annoy her or tossing stones into the water.

But Rio froze and her boots rooted to the forest floor.

Agatha was squatting ankle-deep in the water, stripped to her undergarments.

Agatha’s chemise clung to her in the water’s embrace, the sheer fabric almost useless against the curve of her figure. Her long hair hung in damp strands down her back. She was methodically scrubbing the dirt from her dress, humming a soft tune as though she didn’t have a care in the world.

By all the grace of the Heavens…

Rio immediately ducked behind a tree, the firewood nearly slipping from her grasp.

It was improper. Indecent.

She shouldn’t have seen her like that. Shouldn’t have looked, even by accident.

Rio pressed her back against the rough bark of the tree she hid behind, breathing through her nose and trying to keep her mind from burning the image into her mind.

“Are you hiding, Ser Knight?”

Rio’s entire body went rigid.

Agatha’s voice was light and teasing, drifting to her like a hook reeling her in. It was distant so she was still by the water.

“I am not hiding.” Rio replied stiffly from behind the tree.

Agatha snorted. “Then why do you lurk in the woods like a creature?”

“I am providing you privacy.”

“How gallant of you.” There was a splash and Rio could only assume she was rinsing the outfit. “Though, if you truly wished to give me privacy, you would have walked further away instead of standing hidden behind a tree like an assassin.”

Rio grit her teeth. “I did not want to leave you alone.”

“Aw, worried about me, were you?”

Rio didn’t answer and just looked up to the sky as if it would grant her some divine patience.

There was the unmistakenable sound of fabric being wrung out. “You may look now, if you like, Ser Knight. I am mostly decent.”

“I will wait.”

“Suit yourself.”

Rio could hear shifting, probably Agatha draping her dress over the grass to dry.

“Honestly,” Agatha continued, “you act as though you have never seen a woman in her shift before. There is nothing I have that you do not.”

Rio gave a long suffering sigh as she closed her eyes. “I do not make a habit of… of seeing women in their… undergarments.”

Agatha laughed softly. “Oh, I believe that. I cannot imagine you ever letting yourself… look at a woman for too long.”

Rio didn’t dignify that with a response.

Moments later, she heard her footsteps squelching through the grass and Rio finally stepped out from behind the tree.

Agatha stood there, careless, hair dripping, chemise still clinging to her, but now her purple cloak was wrapped loosely around her shoulders.

“Breathe now, Ser.” Agatha was grinning. “I promise not to scandalize you any further.”

Rio dropped the firewood into a pile with more force than necessary, her mouth set in a thin line. “Do put the cloak on properly. It is starting to get cold.”

“Yes, Ser.” Agatha mock-curtsied.

Rio turned sharply and began to work on the fire as she felt her body heating up… due to the fever, of course.

Night settled and their small fire crackled between them and provided a feeble but welcome source of light against the oppressive darkness.

Agatha sat cross-legged by the fire as she stared at the dancing embers and listened to the soft murmur of the nearby water and the distant hoot of an owl.

Across from her, Rio lay on her side, her green cloak draped over her. Even under the warm light, her face was still flushed from the remnants of her fever clinging stubbornly despite the cool air.

Agatha frowned, watching the subtle twitch of her fingers, the slight furrow in her brow.

It started again, the same way it had the last time.

A soft, strangled sound escaped Rio’s lips, hands jerked against the ground, fingers clenching the dirt like she was grasping for something… or someone.

Rio’s jaw clenched and a broken whisper followed. “Do not—!”

“Ser Knight?” Agatha moved closer, careful not to startle her like before. Thankfully, the sword was set aside.

Rio didn’t respond, her body still tense, trapped somewhere between sleep and whatever it was her mind was conjuring.

“Hush, hush. It is just a dream, Ser.” Agatha murmured, reaching out and gently touching her shoulder. “It is but a dream.”

Rio’s eyes snapped open.

For a breathless moment, Agatha braced for the same violent reaction as before: the sudden lunge, the confusion, the near miss.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, Rio’s gaze darted wildly for a split second — to Agatha’s hand on her shoulder, to her face, to the fire — before her body sagged.

Rio didn’t pull away from her touch. Her hand uncurled from the dirt and her breathing slowed as her head fell back against the ground. Her eyes were still half-lidded, still fever-dazed, but the tension that had gripped her moments ago ebbed into something quieter.

“…Agatha,” her voice was hoarse.

“I am here.” Agatha still rested a comforting hand on her shoulder but she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t moved yet.

Rio’s eyes were fully closed again, and for a moment, Agatha thought she might have slipped back into sleep, but then a weak voice spoke.

“…I did not mean to… last time.”

“I know, Ser.” Agatha whispered. Without thinking, or maybe because thinking too much would make her stop, Agatha shifted and carefully adjusted the cloak so it covered Rio better. Her fingers brushed her arm as she tucked the fabric around her side. “Get some rest, dear Knight.”

Rio didn’t move away, not even a flinch. She just lay there, breathing deepening, and head tilted slightly toward the sound of her voice.

“…Thank you, my lady,” was a faint, rasped reply before sleep came for her.

Agatha settled back where she originally sat by the fire. Close enough to Rio to calm her if she stirred again.