Coven Two...Three... Four

The balance…

It was first the only thing Rio was sure of. She was the original Green Witch, one with the cycle of birth, growth, and decay… Her existence was simple… ordered… uninvolved… emotionless… 

was ... 

it was the key word there for Death had fallen in love and died. 

A long time ago, she loved someone. And she had to do something that she did not want to do, even though it was her job. And it hurt them… 

she was her scar…

And that scar ran so deep, it killed her. 

***

Death

Three of Swords

The Lovers

***

Yet, in an odd twist of fate, Lady Death was reunited with not only her wife, but their son in a queendom of the Afterlife where once the idea of being cosmic destroyed them, became their ultimate end. Agatha Harkness became a cosmic entity, a ruler of the Afterlife, and the true wife and soulmate of Lady Death. Everything was perfect…they had each other. They had the son they had both lost and they had power. Neither of them thought it would get better than this, but it seems the universe had other plans. 

***

The Paradox:

Life from Death

***

Rio no longer understood the balance. Rio Vidal along with her wife and son were completely and utterly dead. Death was the end, not the beginning or so she thought. 

For… 

Lady Death… 

the embodiment of the end…

the natural order of all things…

was with child.

Agatha was losing…

…badly. 

She held back a gasp of pain as her body slammed into the earth beneath her. Her rib cage rattled, her head holding a new throbbing sensation for a fleeting moment. The breath left her, not that it was needed, but nonetheless left her stunned. Blood covered her vision, and through the red haze, she could just make out the grey sky with white confetti raining around them. It layered the ground, coating it in death. It was warm though, sickly warm, and yet it melted underneath her, soaking into her gown. She didn’t move for a moment, her mind whirling as she tried focusing on the clouds above her. Her magic sparked, but she couldn’t use it, not against her. 

Sitting up slowly, she wiped the blood from her eyes, trying to clear it, but it only made it worse. Everything was tinted in red, like some sick filter attaching itself to her eyes. Standing at the moment felt impossible and part of her thanked herself for not standing as the wind pushed her back into the earth and with a sickening crumble, Agatha found herself somehow in a crater. She would have laughed. The idea of being pushed so hard into the earth to form a crater was dramatic, but the woman who did it… 

….was now straddling her. 

Soft hands were cupping her face, the red tint swiped away but it didn’t stop the way her heart froze. Her eyes narrowed at the glint of dagger held above her heart but flickering up to meet a gaze so full of anger, that it could kill. The woman’s eyes were dark, absent of humanity, and the only tell was the furrow of her eyebrows. She swallowed thickly, tears threatening to break as the dagger pierced her flesh, her own black blood pooling around her throat and dripping into the earth beneath them. She opened her mouth, ready to beg, plead— hell, even bargain her way out of this, but she rudely interrupted. 

Lips pressed against hers. A tongue invaded her mouth as the dagger clattered against a rock next to Agatha’s head. A curtain of black hair surrounded her as those hands brought her face closer. She sighed into the kiss, her own tongue meeting one that tasted of decay, but she drank it in anyway. Then, something warm was soaking her cheeks, prickling her skin. The tears mixed with the blood on Agatha’s face, the warmth of them a sharp contrast to the cold magic that had burned through their battle. Agatha sighed softly into the kiss, her hands finally moving– one wrapping around the woman’s waist and the other threading through her black hair. 

As the woman pulled away, a quiet whimper escaped her lips. Agatha didn’t hesitate. She shifted them both, sitting up slowly despite the ache in her body. She held her close, her hand moving in soothing circles on her back. The whimpers grew further apart, until they stilled, silence surrounding them as the flakes adorned her black hair. 

Agatha breathed out, “Is this out of your system now?” 

A skull connected to hers, sprawling her back into the dirt. 

Deserved that, Agatha thought bitterly, holding her head as her eyes closed.

To her surprise, the weight on her hips stayed, pinning her further into the dirt. She slowly opened her eyes, staring up into dark, rich-soil ones. They stared straight through her defenses as her arms crossed over her chest, fingers tapping rhythmically on a bicep. Around her ring finger sat a black band, laced with green, one of the only pieces of jewelry she wore in every form. Her eyes moved, searching for anything of a scratch or bruise on her body, but her eyes always found themselves landing on the prominent curve of her wife’s stomach. The way she sat on Agatha pulled the dress tightly around her, accentuating the curves of her hips and her poised figure. Yet, Agatha’s gaze lingered on the round stomach, carrying their child. Rio was just past the end of her first trimester. Though her pregnancy wasn’t obvious under her flowing dresses, to Agatha, it was everything. 

Rio arched an eyebrow at her, waiting. She was patient, unlike her wife and son. She could wait for eternity, especially if that meant sitting on top of her wife. She watched the witch, noticing once again the witch’s eyes were not with her, no…they were only her stomach and Rio had the urge to grab the dagger again and stab her in the eye. She had done it before, stopping before the blade had touched her brain, and this was when Agatha was mortal. She felt bad, only slightly. Her magic healed it with ease, but she left her wife simmering with rage for the next couple of months. Rio wasn’t sorry about that then, and even now she wasn’t, even if the woman was now ruling a realm as a cosmic being beside her.

She almost missed her wife’s hands sneaking up to touch her stomach, but Rio hit them away, huffing at her. When they reached again, Rio didn’t waste a second, grabbing both and pinning them above her wife’s head and summoning the roots of the earth to hold her as she sat up again, pressing her weight more firmly into her wife. However, in true Agatha Harkness fashion, her eyes only glinted with delight, that god-awful, beautiful smirk– the one that always made Rio’s knees buckle – painted her lips. 

“If you wanted me tied up this badly, darling, all you had to do was ask.”

Rio growled, her dagger back in hand and up against her wife’s neck, “Agatha.” 

Her wife finally flinched, clearing her throat as her hands tugged on the roots holding her in place, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, my love.”

“For?” Rio’s voice was cold, her gaze unwavering and that alone could have pinned Agatha in place. 

“For saying that you were eating a lot.”

“And?” she hissed. 

Agatha blinked at her for a moment before recovering, “And for teasing you when you’re carrying our child.”

Rio sighed, the tension falling from her shoulders and the magic releasing her wife’s wrists. Agatha took her chance, her hands falling to her pregnant stomach as she sat up. Rio didn’t push her away this time as her wife was nuzzling against her neck, placing a soft kiss there. They sat there for a moment, enjoying a rare moment of silence before they both heard familiar little footsteps. 

“Mama! Mami! ” a voice carried towards them. 

Rio didn’t hide her groan as she placed her head against her wife’s. Agatha chuckled lightly, patting Rio’s thigh so they could both stand. Her wife took her hand and with ease she pulled them both out of the crater to see their son running towards them. He lept into her wife’s arms, giggling, clearly oblivious to the fading tension between them, but Rio still couldn’t shake her wife’s words from earlier. If Nicky wasn’t in her arms, Rio would have turned and pushed her back into the ditch for good measure. 

“ Mami, ” Nicky drew her attention back to her wife. 

Nicky reached his hands out for her, eager for Rio now to take him. She smirked, holding him close and tucking his head underneath her chin and turning. Before Agatha could follow them, a puff of wind sent her back into the ditch. 

“Not so sure I deserved that,” she muttered, staring up at the falling snow once more. 

Rio’s mood swings had been a force of nature ever since the night they realized she was pregnant. This wasn’t their first fight. The first time it happened, Agatha almost hit Rio back, but she froze, staring at her stomach. Fighting was not unusual for them, in fact, if it wasn’t for their son, Agatha was sure as hell their fights would have ended with Rio fucking her feelings out…that’s how they did the past few centuries and habits were not something either of them could fully let go– but a certain someone reminded them they were mature adults…totally mature…centuries old witches… cosmic beings…

Along with Rio’s moods was her cravings. Agatha didn’t find it strange as Rio craved specific flowers, Agatha’s magic guiding Rio’s unsteady magic when she could to help conjure them for her. The strange cravings were leaves, bone fragments, and coal– fucking hell Rio loved coal. Agatha couldn’t believe her eyes when she caught her wife munching on the burnt rocks like they were popcorn. She wasn’t surprised at the cravings for spicy foods or raw meat, which Agatha allowed her to eat after Rio stabbed her. If she couldn’t get her hands on any of these, she would retaliate by eating whatever possible in the kitchen or by sending Agatha into a crater. (But this time, it was for Agatha teasing Rio about her cravings.) Agatha could barely keep up, but she never denied her wife, wondering how much energy the cosmic needed while creating life…death creating life…that was another thing they still had trouble understanding. In their queendom of death, one of the queens somehow was giving life to a future prince or princess. The paradox gave Agatha a headache if she thought too deeply. 

“ Mami, ” Nicky’s voice echoed from somewhere. 

Rio ignored it, her eyes remaining closed as she nuzzled into the cushions beneath her. The sleeping thing was still new, but after passing out four times in the last few weeks, she finally listened to her wife and gave into her tiredness. She would never tell Agatha, but it was nice. She wondered if it was the same for humans, to just fall into the black void and cease to exist for a couple of hours. She didn’t have to face the cravings, the way her mood always seemed to change with each passing second, or the odd sensation of something growing inside her. She could just be nothing. 

“ Mami?” Nicky’s voice became louder. “ Mami, wake up. It’s dinner time and Mama hasn’t been home since before lunch.” 

Rio sat up at that, meeting her own eyes of her son. She blinked, looking towards the window and finding the dark contrast beyond the glass. Nicky didn’t wait. He climbed into her lap, leaning into her as his arms wrapped around her neck. She couldn’t stop the soft smile as she pressed him closer into her before reaching for Agatha’s magic. She searched the house, trying to find that comforting spark, but felt nothing. 

“ Mijo, did Mama say where she was going?” she asked softly, running her hands through his hair. 

He shook his head, “She muttered something about the witches, Mami. I’m hungry.” 

She would have laughed at her own son thinking about food, but if he was right, if Agatha had been gone since before lunch– since she fell asleep– no one fed Nicky. 

Where the fuck was Agatha? 

Rio stood, sitting her son back on the couch before moving into the kitchen. 

“ Mijo, do you want something to snack on while I prepare something for you to eat?” she asked, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. 

She needed to make sure Nicky was okay first, as much everything screamed to find Agatha, she couldn’t just leave their six-year-old to defend for himself. 

“Can I have some chips?” Nicky was suddenly next to her, pointing at the cabinet. 

She nodded, going through the freezer and finding chicken nuggets. Rio was no chef, in fact Rio would figure out how to burn cereal much less than cook a simple meal. It was the only thing Rio could not learn… well refused to. She didn’t see the need to learn. The only thing she did learn was the stew Agatha would cook back in their cottage days, but that took hours. A six-year old did not have that patience. She threw the frozen things onto a tray before approaching the oven. She cocked her head, unsure how to work things before looking up to the microwave. She knew how to work that, especially when Agatha would catch her eating cold leftovers, but yelled at her that metal could not go in. She grabbed a plate before shoving the nuggets inside and powering on the machine. She didn’t know how long to cook them for, so she cranked them up, watching until she swore one was getting a little too brown. Pulling them out, she tried one, finding it editable, but Nicky would thoroughly complain. She sighed, walking into the living room, her hand absentmindedly on her stomach as she set the plate down. 

“ Mami, why do you always hold your tummy?” Nicky stared up at her with big eyes. 

She sighed, “It’s just a comfort thing, cariño. Now, go ahead and eat, I am going to find Mama.”

Agatha and her still had yet to tell him, but their son was quickly picking up the pieces, well at least with Rio’s behavior. She also noticed the way his eyes always went to her growing stomach, but the sweet boy he was, he never said anything. Plus, Rio was sure she would cry if he did. Shoving those thoughts aside, Rio called on the wolves, watching them appear from the shadows and bowing before her. 

“Have you seen my wife?” she questioned coldly. 

The wolves looked at each other before sinking lower before her, “The last we heard, my Lady Death, was that she went to the witches’ section of the realm. We tried to remind her of your rules, but she would not listen.”

She rolled her eyes, “Watch Nicky. If I am not back in an hour, put him to bed and then come searching with me.” 

The two bowed lower, “Yes, my Lady.” 

Rio felt herself mold, at least getting rid of the black sweatpants and tank top she was wearing. Her skeleton visage came out, ridding her of her nose and revealing her sharp jaw. The bones didn’t last, her ribs refusing to turn skeletal as if the life inside was holding the human part of her hostage. She never fought it, scared of what it would do to the little one, or worse, reveal the life growing inside her, which particularly horrified her. Subconsciously, Rio pulled her dark cloak around her, hiding pregnant belly as she walked through the throne room and to a door where the wolves parted for her. 

Agatha would never disappear on them like this unless of course, she was up to something. Yet, something gnawed at Rio. Agatha had become more patient with her than their whole lifetime together. She was protective, more attentive of her, and strangely never fought back when she would fight Agatha. Her wife somehow knew her every need and even before she knew what she needed. She was there with potions for her nausea, always finding food for her cravings, would cuddle her when her emotions became too much, found relaxing herbs and made wards around their home for her– everything Agatha has done has been with intent of keeping Rio comfortable. Whatever she was up to… Rio couldn’t shake that it was probably reckless, stupid…something in Agatha Harkness fashion. 

She froze in the long hall, casting a glance at the stairs, leading to the darker parts of their home. 

She wouldn’t. Would she? Rio wondered as her heart hammered as she rushed to the cells. 

Agatha and her haven’t talked about Evanora’s appearance since then. One: Rio knew that Agatha was tired of her mother’s spirit haunting her. Her words from the third trial lingered in both of their ears to this day. Some nights, knowing what her love was thinking, she would distract her; pressing gentle kisses to her velvet skin, holding her close, and whispering soft praises to her: “You were born perfect, mi amor. You are beautiful, so strong, and all mine.” Sometimes being in Rio’s arms was enough to reassure her wife and other times it was merely giving her a flower. Two: They were both still worried about Nicky. When Evanora learned that Agatha bore a child with Death, she screamed and kicked her whole way to her cell. And three…well, Rio’s growing stomach was enough of a reason. 

Rio wrapped the cloak more around her body, guarding her precious secret as she walked the weeping halls. She froze though, her heart leaping from her chest as she stared ahead. Beyond the rows of cells, one cell– the one at the end– that held Evanora Harkness, was open. She growled, her powers flaring as she propelled herself forward, finding the cell empty. 

Rio’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood in the empty, dimly lit cell. Her eyes scanned the space, cold fury simmering under her skin. Evanora Harkness had been locked away here, contained, hidden from sight after everything she had done. Yet now… the cell was empty. The door hung open, a silent testament to the disruption. 

“No,” Rio whispered, her voice low, as if saying the word aloud would make the reality any less impossible. 

Her mind raced, thoughts darting between fury and fear. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was Agatha’s doing.  

No, Agatha wouldn't… would she? Why would she? 

It didn’t make sense, not after what Evanora had done to Agatha, the burns, the slashes– fuck even the broken bones Rio healed when Agatha was still a teenager. Then, the ghost of her telling her wife she should have killed her– no. Agatha Harkness wouldn’t just let her fucking mother out of her cell, especially without telling Rio– especially now that Rio carried their second child. With a low growl, the air around her seemed to vibrate with the anger that poured out of her. The faintest hint of green crackled around her, the aura of Death itself. Rio latched into their soul connection, finding her where Nicky had said she went. 

Why the fuck are you with those witches? She growled in her mind, wondering if Agatha could hear her thoughts

She breathed in deep, her hand resting on her stomach as willed herself to the witches’ secteur. The energy shift tore through her lungs, her heart thudding as her knees buckled. She groaned as she opened her eyes, falling back to lean against a tree. She was outside of their village, in the forest. She scanned around, looking for a soul before opening her cloak to her round stomach. Rio stared at her tighter gown. She felt as if she was bloated, severely bloated…fine, she felt pregnant. She groaned, rubbing the side of her stomach. How her wife did this, she would never know. She was already becoming miserable, every change in her body making it known to her that some part of her was foreignly human. Rio poked her stomach, before rubbing it tenderly, unsure what this new feeling was. It bubbled deep within her chest, her own eyes softening, with something more tender than ever before. 

“ Mi florecita,” she murmured. “You’re really already taking my energy, aren’t you?” 

Rio waited to catch her breath, her hand still moving in circles over her belly. 

“I wonder if you can even hear me yet,” she whispered aloud, her eyes sparkling with the thought of their little one. 

Finally, grasping the energy back, Rio pushed off the tree, wrapping the cloak back around her body, hiding her precious flower. She moved towards the witches with purpose, she held her head high as her crown manifested. Unlike her jade Death Crown, this one was a mix of black and jade. It was tall, spiking similarly like antlers, but in the center floated a purple stone, illuminating with its own power. The village was almost Salem itself, the houses of logs, wooden fences surrounding the vicinity. Herbs and fresh vegetables grew in every garden. Rio paused at the gates, looking up at the wooden entrance and a plank reading: Maiden, Mother, Crone. She drifted through finding the village quiet. Torches lit outside of the homes. Candles in window sills cascading shadows inside. The air hummed with magic, but even the magic cowered at Rio’s presence. She watched from the corner of her eyes as children popped their heads out from around corners, or from their windows, watching her with fascination as she followed her soul tie to a large cabin in the city’s center. 

With a flick of her hand, the cabin door burst open, allowing her to step inside. Agatha Harkness stood in her own black cloak at the head of a large table. Witches surrounded it on all sides, their eyes attentive on her wife who spoke with urgency. The green gem stone in the middle of her crown casted a faint glow upon the table where a map of the realm was laid out. She was speaking, but Rio watched as the witches’ heads all turned in sync. Without a beat, they fell to their knees before her, bowing low. 

Agatha finally snapped her head up, staring at her wife, void of emotion. Rio’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood in the doorway, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. Agatha’s cold, calculated expression did nothing to ease the fury building within her. Witches scattered throughout the room, frozen in reverence, yet there was no warmth in the air, no comforting presence. The tension between them was palpable. 

“Agatha,” Rio’s tone was ice, raining down from the heavens that made the witches on the floor flinch. 

Her wife didn’t flinch, her stare blank before stepping back and walking around the table. Her heels clicked softly against the wood before she stood in front of Rio, her walls finally cracking for only Rio to see. She saw it all: the fear in her eyes and the anxiety etched into the way her eyebrows knitted together. Then her gaze softened, a silent conversation starting. 

I am coming home, my love, Agatha reassured. 

Rio shook her head, her upper lip twisting in a way to say, You left me. You left Nicky for hours without a word. I wake up and find your fucking mother escaped.

Agatha’s shoulders sagged, taking a slight step back from her, I know, but I couldn’t worry you.

Rio rolled her eyes, raising an eyebrow, Yes, and yet, here we are. 

I will explain once we are home, please, Agatha’s eyebrows pinched together, her head now titled to the side. 

She simply nodded, taking a step back herself, allowing her wife to face the witches on the ground, “Rise.” 

All of the witches rose and Rio felt her eyes widen. Her breath was taken as she took in the family tattered cloaks. They were all from Agatha’s original coven, even the ones she killed– even the Salem Seven who stood next to the empty space her wife once occupied. The Salmites, the ones who stood behind their Coven Head, Evanora, and sentenced Agatha to die. Rio felt herself bristle, her jaw clenching as everything in her focused to keep her magic in check. 

What. The. Fuck.

“Do you all understand the plan?” Agatha spoke, her voice reverberating around the room. 

“Yes, my Lady,” they all replied in unison, as if they all themselves were hive-minded. 

Agatha nodded, “Repeat any findings to us immediately. Spread the word. Evanora Harkness will be found.” 

With that Agatha took Rio’s hand, leading out of the cabin and through a portal of her own magic. When they stepped through, it closed behind them, leaving them both in their living room. Rio let her anger out, her magic swirling around her as she stepped towards her wife. 

“Aga-”

“Mama!” 

Fuck. 

Rio sucked her magic back in, her human face revealing as their son bounded in from the hall, the wolves on his heels as he jumped into Agatha’s awaiting arms. 

“ Mami found you!” 

Agatha smiled down at their son as Rio felt her anger lessen, watching her son hold onto her wife tightly. Her wife kissed his head, running her fingers through his hair as he nuzzled into her, “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to leave you for too long. Did you eat?” 

Nicky perked up at that, smiling ear to ear,“ Mami fed me chicken nuggets and chips!” 

Agatha laughed sheepishly, eyeing Rio unsure, “Well, I am going to have to teach Mami how to cook more than just chicken nuggets. Are you still hungry?”

Rio took a step forward, her hand on their son’s back as he beamed up at them, “No, the wolves let me have ice cream.”

Rio couldn’t help the amused, albeit exhausted, sigh that escaped her lips as she watched the wolves’ submissive postures. It was clear they knew they’d gone a little too far letting Nicky indulge in such treats. Agatha, however, raised an eyebrow at the wolves, her lips twitching in a restrained smile. Her gaze softened as she looked at Nicky, who was now snuggling into her, his eyes beginning to flutter closed. 

“Ice cream, huh? The wolves are spoiling you, mijo, ” Rio moved closer, her hand still resting on Nicky’s back. “Sugar crash catching up to you?”

She teased lightly, her voice a touch softer than before. The tension from earlier hadn’t completely dissipated. Her and Agatha needed to talk, but seeing Nicky so content in Agatha’s arms helped ease some of it. Nicky yawned, now too tired to keep his eyes open. Rio’s heart softened, the mixture of love and concern flooding her chest. They’d been through so much, and here their son was, still so innocent, unaware of the threats looming on the horizon. 

“Alright, bedtime, mister. How about mami puts you to bed, yeah?” Agatha asked softly, ignoring Rio’s harsh gaze that spoke volumes. 

You are not getting out of this conversation. 

Rio instantly softened as little arms reached for her and with ease, she gathered her son in her arms. He nuzzled into her, his body weight going dead the moment she started moving to the steps. The wolves followed on her heels without her having to say a word. Part of her wondered if they knew Agatha had gone to the witches, but now wasn’t the time. She reached her son’s room, walking around the toy dinosaurs on the floor and gently laying him in bed. Then, she pulled the green and purple quilt over his shoulders, grabbing his stuffed rabbit, and setting it next to him. On instinct, she watched as her son grabbed it, his eyes only fluttering open for a second before falling back asleep. Her heart flooded with warmth, her body relaxing and she couldn’t stop the smile. Everything else in the world seemed to freeze for a moment, and nothing else mattered except for her sleeping son.

Leaning forward, she brushed a soft kiss to his forehead, “ Buenas noches, mi querido príncipe de la muerte. Te amo. ”

She turned to the wolves, nodding at them to stay. They bowed before her, waiting until her departure to resume their posts. Rio made a beeline to their chambers. Her anger crackled around her, the paintings on the walls trembling as she passed. She punched open their doors, her face hot as her fists clenched. 

“Agatha!” she growled, finding the room empty. 

Her wife stepped out from the bathroom, already in her robe with her hair braiding up. She smiled softly, ignoring Rio’s anger as her hand outstretched. Rio raised an eyebrow, tonguing the side of her cheek before reluctantly stepping forward to take it. 

“Agatha,” Rio began, her voice softer as her wife gently pulled her into their master bathroom. “If you’re trying to distract me with sex, I am–” 

Her words faltered, and she froze mid-step. The sight before her stole any retort from her lips. The bathtub was surrounded by a halo of softly glowing candles, their flames casting a warm, golden light across the room. The air was thick with a delicate floral scent, the steam rising in tendrils from the water. But it wasn’t the warmth or the ambiance that stopped her– it was the bath itself. The water shimmered faintly, its surface adorned with herbs and petals floating lazily in a gentle dance. Lavender for calm, chamomile for tension, and rose petals for an uplifting touch– all chosen with deliberate care. The petals glowed faintly, each illuminated by Agatha’s magic, a soft violet hue pulsing as if alive. The magic thrummed faintly in the room, weaving into the steam, curling around Rio like an embrace. She felt her shoulders relax slightly, the unyielding tension that had gripped her for hours beginning to fade. Even the dull headache she hadn’t realized was there started to ease. 

Agatha stepped in front of her, her hands deftly untying Rio’s cloak and tossing it into the nearby hamper. With the same quiet determination, she moved behind Rio, her fingers working at the laces of her dress. The fabric loosened and pooled at Rio’s feet, leaving her bare. She tensed momentarily, instinctively, but the soft press of Agatha’s lips against her shoulder banished the fleeting discomfort. With care, Agatha began braiding Rio’s hair, her fingers working gently but expertly. The gesture was intimate, grounding, and Rio found herself breathing a little easier. When the braid was complete, Agatha turned to face her again, taking Rio’s hands in her own. She guided her toward the tub with a small nod, the invitation clear. Rio hesitated for only a moment before letting her wife’s steady hands help her lower herself into the warm water. 

The heat immediately began to seep into her skin, soothing the aches she hadn’t realized she was carrying. But even as her body started to relax, the anger remained– a simmering heat beneath the surface. She wasn’t about to let this conversation go, no matter how calming this bath was. 

“Agatha,” she started, her tone firm but quiet. 

Before she could continue, the soft rustle of fabric caught her attention. She glanced up to see Agatha dropping her robe. Rio’s breath hitched, her words forgotten as her wife’s naked form stood before her, radiant in the candlelight. Agatha smirked knowingly, stepping into the tub with the grace of a predator who knew exactly the effect she had. Agatha sank into the water behind Rio, her legs bracketing Rio’s thighs as she settled against the tub. Without thinking, Rio’s body betrayed her, leaning back into her wife’s chest, her head tucking instinctively beneath Agatha’s chin. She exhaled deeply, her shoulders falling as the last remnants of tension melted away, swept up in the magic and warmth of her wife’s presence. 

A feather-light kiss brushed the top of her head, and for a moment, Rio closed her eyes, letting the calm settle into her bones. The silence stretched between them, comfortable and steady, the weight of unspoken words set aside for only a moment. But then, as Rio had known it would, Agatha’s hands moved. They slid down her arms, featherlight and reassuring, before wrapping gently around her. When they came to rest on her stomach, it wasn’t demanding or possessive– it was reverent. A touch meant to ground her, to remind her. Rio let out a shaky breath, her hand covering Agatha’s. 

“This doesn’t mean I’m not still mad at you,” she murmured, her voice softened by the love that refused to be buried. 

Agatha chuckled low, pressing another kiss to her temple, “I wouldn’t expect anything less, my love.” 

Rio shook her head, but kept her cheek pressed against Agatha’s breast, “What happened today, Agatha? I wake up to Nicky telling me you have been gone all day and then find Evanora’s cell empty?” 

Her wife tensed, her hands which were tracing soothing runes on Rio’s stomach froze for a second before continuing more slowly, “I didn’t want to put more stress on you, my love. We both are already dealing with a lot and you–”

Rio growled, “Don’t give me that bullshit. You don’t keep me in the dark like that, especially with your fucking mother. I know I kept it from you before, but I thought we established that we don’t hide anymore. We work together as a team, Harkness. And I am not a being to be coddled. I am not weak, Agatha.” Rio felt the tears roll hot down her cheeks. “I am just…pregnant.” 

She whispered the last word, as if it was the most terrifying admission in the world, and for Death it secretly was. 

Her wife’s breath hitched, “My love, you are the farthest thing from weak, I never thought that. I just thought I could find her before–”

“I woke up? I found out?” 

Agatha remained quiet, the only sound was the gentle ripple of the water around them. 

Rio took a deep breath, somehow relaxing more into her wife, “ Escucha, mi amor. No quiero pelear. Estoy cansado, pero por favor dime, ¿tienes un plan? And your original coven?” 

Agatha nodded, “ Sí, mi corazón. I found out the Salemites hate Evanora just as much as we do. The Salem Seven listened to what I had to say and gathered the coven. They are hunting my mother as we speak.”

Rio peaked her head up, turning slightly to stare into those perfect sapphire eyes, “I don’t understand, why help you now when they helped Evanora abuse you?”

“Because she is powerless here. I don’t know how she escaped, but the witches agree she had help from someone. The wolves summoned the rest of their pack. They are guarding our home as we speak. I reinforced our runes as well. My mother will be caught, my love. It’s my turn to protect you.” 

Rio didn’t fight it, just nodding her head as it swirled. It was a lot to take in, but for now, she forced it all away, allowing her wife’s embrace with her hands on her stomach, to calm her. They could face it all tomorrow, and when tomorrow came, Evanora Harkness would know what it meant to mess with Death’s family. Wherever she was hiding, they would find her and Rio would obliterate her once and for all.