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Chapter Text

Feeling disconcerted and out of place, Agatha sits in the Theatre of Tales, trying to rationalise the events that led her to this place, surrounded by Evergirls in pink frills and Everboys in light blue, facing jeering Nevers in black rags. The worst that could have happened to her, has happened. She’d wished for only one thing; to stay in Gavaldon, her home, with her mother and her cat and her best friend. That was all she’d needed to be happy.

Instead, both Agatha and her dear friend have been dragged to the School for Good and Evil by the School Master. That same friend has somehow managed to ogle the Everboys, glare at the Evergirls, and simultaneously gag at the Nevers.

But not just that, they’ve even been assigned to the wrong schools – not that Agatha feels particularly malevolent, but she definitely belongs here in Good much less than Sophie, who is stuck in Evil. Now she somehow has to figure out a way to get them both out of here and back home, which will be no easy feat considering how much they’ve been pulled apart.

She’s so lost in thought that she hardly notices someone making a third entrance into the Theatre of Tales.

The entire Theater goes so silent you could have heard a pin drop.

The Evergirls and Nevers had been first, then the Everboys just had to burst in yelling and fighting, being needlessly loud and flashy.

A single black-clad boy walks in from the east doors, strolling leisurely as if all the time in the world has stopped to wait for him. He’s lazily flipping a sword in his right hand and with hair a halo of celestial cold, skin the colour of hot desert sand, he could have been an angel fallen from above.

But chillingly pale blue eyes that look like they could freeze a lake over in summer ruin the image and make him appear unusually cruel. Agatha is on high alert as soon as the newcomer makes his appearance, but she enters a state of outright dread as her gaze follows him, drifting to the seat he takes.

Right next to Sophie.

Time really does halt for Agatha at that moment.

She can’t stop glancing at the rows of Never students. After seeing him walk in for the first time, she can’t seem to turn back forwards for more than a minute at a time; her focus is trapped, eyes pinned on the boy like the damaged scope of a rifle.

He looks dangerous. Not in the way that the other Evil students do. He looks like he would be capable of hurting someone much more deeply, and with much more enjoyment, than the others ever could. It makes her nervous that her best friend is there with him, and she just knows that Sophie will throw caution to the wind when pursuing what she wants.

But of course, Sophie doesn’t seem to share her concern, completely forgetting the princes and instead cozying up to the one boy on her side that makes Agatha’s stomach sink. He is unnaturally pretty for a Neverboy; and if Agatha is being objectively honest – which she isn’t, not for this sort of thing – he’s downright ethereal.

The other Evers seem to notice it, too. Beatrix looks like she wants to rip Sophie’s head off as the latter presses herself so close to the blonde Neverboy that she’s practically sitting on his lap.

But then Agatha suddenly meets his gaze as he cocks his head lazily to the side and turns to stare at her. She glares back with all the disgust she can muster. His eyes glint as they assess each other, the pale blue a stark contrast with her dark eyes, his scrutiny seems to grow more intense the longer he looks.

The second he had sauntered into the Theatre Agatha had sensed something was different about him. Something wrong, even amongst dozens of Nevers. While the other Evil students look angry at the world, sulking and seething in their black uniforms, this boy seems completely satisfied with everything that is happening around him, as if it is all for him, or a part of his plan; as if he is a step ahead.

Yet every now and then, a look flits across his face that Agatha can’t identify. Crystal-blue eyes darken, giving way to the stormy navy of a tempestuous sea. His expression is one of barely contained madness, like he’s on the verge and only just holding himself back from completely destroying everything around him.

While the other Evil students are drowning in their dirty rags, the black material of the uniform stretches tight across his muscled chest, rips exposing flashes of tan skin. He looks like he’s an entirely different breed than the rest of them. But more importantly, he looks like he could wrap Sophie around his little finger just by breathing her air.

Which he’s already doing. Agatha tenses in her seat even more than before.

She can see the effect this boy’s handsome face and sculpted body are having on her best friend; she has absolutely no faith in Sophie when it comes to boys and mentally berates her best friend’s shallowness. This was not the first time either (and certainly not the last).

As they’re leaving the Theatre of Tales – after what feels like an eternity to a neurotic Agatha who had been reaching the point of almost pulling her hair out as she had to watch Sophie try to close the gap between herself and that of the eerie, unsettling Neverboy – she feels a chill on the back of her neck.

“Tell me, sweetheart, why the looks?” he asks from behind, far too close for comfort. Agatha masks her fraying nerves with one of her usual sarcastic facades, but before she can make a scathing remark, a mass of flaxen hair with sparkling emerald eyes collides into her.

“Aggie! Have you already met Teddy?” Sophie squeals excitedly, holding onto her best friend.

“Your name is Aggie?” the boy scoffs, entertained.

“Your name is Teddy?” Agatha retorts. Sophie looks between the two, sensing a storm brewing.

“Not to you anyway, just to her,” he responds, and Sophie beams, the mild concern she’d been showing vanishing at his remark. But Agatha bristles, because the boy’s calculating eyes as they flicker to Sophie’s tell her he’s already charming her best friend and his intent is far from pure. Then his attention returns to Agatha, challenging. “My name is Tedros. And you are?”

“Not saying my name and not calling you that,” she replies, scowling, wishing that she could dip her words with poison as she spits them - she doesn’t like most people, but this level of defensive hostility is something she’s never felt before towards anyone, until him.

“What would you call me then?” the boy tilts his head in mock curiosity. Agatha refuses to even acknowledge his name.

“Oh, I have a long list,” she responds, mentally cataloguing all the expletives her mind prepares for situations like this, but Sophie interjects.

“Aggie! Don’t be so sour! You’re not going to make any new friends with that attitude!” Agatha shoots her best friend a look: Since when have I ever been interested in making friends? Sophie holds her gaze disapprovingly but condescendingly, like a mother scolding a child. “Her name is Ag--,” the blonde girl tries to declare finally, but Agatha knew this would happen and clamps her hands over Sophie’s mouth, taking the chance to drag her friend away for a little discussion.

Once they’re a safe distance away Agatha turns on the girl who she thought was her best friend, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Sophie simpers and lays a condescending hand on Agatha’s shoulder, “Securing my prince, darling.”

“He’s not a prince!” Agatha fights to keep her tone under control, “He’s a villain!”

Sophie seems to not have heard Agatha’s words because she’s staring at Tedros again, a devious smile on her lips.

Agatha looks back over her shoulder and sure enough, Tedros is standing there, one hand on the hilt of his sword and the other lazily raking back his hair. He looks up and winks at Sophie. She giggles in response, offering a delicate finger wave. One that Agatha had seen her practice in the mirror way too many times back home in Gavaldon.

A reedy voice cuts through the noise of students, “Hey, you! Yes, Evergirl with the abysmally pale skin!” Agatha sees Pollux wave at her from atop the wolf body he shares with Pollux, “Get back to the Evers and follow the rest to your rooms please!”

Agatha hates to leave Sophie, but she can’t do anything against the crowd as she’s swept away by Kiko and the rest of the Evers. She glances back and wants to cry out in frustration.

Tedros has taken her place by Sophie’s side and is already leading her to Evil castle with a possessive arm around the other blonde’s waist.

That guy was bad news.

How the hell was she going to get rid of him?

Chapter Text

Sophie hates this classroom more than all the others because it takes dampness and filth to the next level. At least Lady Lesso’s room was clean. Her dress is practically sticking to the seat underneath her, she notices with a shudder. Thankfully, she’s sitting next to Tedros on the rotting benches, his body heat keeping at least her left side warm and other aspects of him distracting enough to keep the cringe at a more manageable level.

Professor Sheeba Sheeks had asked everybody to show off their talents because apparently every Never student was supposed to have one?? Sophie needs to come up with something before her turn so she can get through this class unscathed, but as the princess Sophie knows she is, she’s coming up with nothing.

She’s more or less accepted the fact that she’s a Never. If that’s what it took to become Queen of Camelot, the Greatest Kingdom in the whole Woods, Sophie would do anything. Her need to become a princess had been primarily motivated by the strong embrace of a handsome Prince waiting atop the steps of a majestic palace.

But now that the Prince is Evil? Sophie could accommodate. She had always been known for forging new paths. And becoming a Never Princess seems pretty new. Like fashion, Sophie would be daring and fearless.

Besides, he didn’t seem Evil in the way the others were. He wasn’t ugly for one. Far from it, Sophie thinks as she bites her lip. And he didn’t make any nasty faces. In fact, he was much more regal and princely than some of the Everboys Sophie had seen across the aisle in the Theatre of Tales.

If worse came to worse, Sophie has full confidence that she could turn him Good if she wanted to.

Sophie turns her attention back to the front of the room. Arachne was in the process of putting her one eye back in it’s socket after she’d taken it out. Gross.

Earlier, Dot had shown off her ability to turn anything she wanted into chocolate, Anadil had grown her rats to double their size, Hort had sprouted one measly hair on his chest, Mona had turned her lips red, and now Tedros was up after Arachne.

“I can’t really show off my talent in the classroom,” Tedros confesses with a lazy smile after Professor Sheeks asks him, folding his hands behind his head as he leans back in his chair.

Anadil levels an unimpressed look at Tedros from across the classroom, “As if you could have any talent worth showing, Prince Prettyface.”

Tedros seems unfazed by the insult. Or compliment, Sophie cocks her head at Anadil.

“What can I say,” Tedros shrugs, “It’s not that flashy.”

Hester rolls her eyes, “Just say you don’t have a talent, asshat.”

Tedros considers her for a moment before he calmly says, “Fight me.”

Dot’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline and after her initial shock, Hester scoffs, “I don’t wanna get suspended for killing some arrogant dickwad.”

“It’s cute that you think you could even land a hit,” Tedros replies easily, gaze steady, eyelids low.

Sophie sees steam practically shooting from Hester’s ears as the dark-haired witch slams her hands on the desk in front of her, chair screeching back as she leaps to her feet, “What the hell did you just say to me?”

“You know exactly what I said,” Tedros raises a brow, smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

“I’m giving you a chance to take it back.”

“No.”

Hester stalks out from behind her desk and shakes off the worried hand from Dot off her shoulder, “Alright, it’s you and me, Pretty Boy.”

With an alarming lack of hesitance, Tedros stands up and stretches, rolling his sleeves up his forearms. Sophie can’t hold back her gasp when she sees. She hears the mirrored reaction in the Nevers around her.

There are countless scars of varying length and thickness all across the skin of his arms, golden tan marred by their lighter, shiny texture. Some are rougher, others are more smooth, and they stretch and twist across almost every available inch of exposed skin. But the peculiar thing about it is, they don’t seem to take away from his allure, the scars only seem to add to it, the imperfections only bringing more attention to his other attributes.

Tedros doesn’t seem to care about their reactions as he and Hester circle each other. Professor Sheeks and the rest of the Evil students have pushed back the desks and chairs to give the two dueling Nevers more space.

Hester moves first, pulling her demon tattoo from her neck with a violent flick of the wrist and the whole classroom gasps again. The demon that had decorated her neck is now hovering above Hester’s shoulder, numerous firebolts in each clawed paw.

Tedros doesn’t seem surprised.

With no warning at all, the demon is shooting across the room, flinging projectile after projectile at Tedros’ unprotected torso. But at a speed that doesn’t seem human, Tedros is already reacting, spinning out of the way, and catching the firebolts in midair.

He twirls them between long fingers before flinging them hot and fast, burying the bolts into the wall next to Hester’s head with a malicious grin.

Hester snarls and raises her arm again, directing her demon to attack again.

The demon and Tedros begin their dance once more. It almost seems elegant from where Sophie is watching. The reaction’s of the blond prince are so quick that they seem to come even before the demon moves. Sophie sees a bead of sweat trickle down Tedros’ neck and under his collar. Her hands clench at the edge of her desk in worry.

The demon is suddenly behind Tedros and Sophie’s eyes widen, her mouth opens to warn him, scream already in her throat before a strong hand is gripping the demon around the middle and slamming it into a desk. The wood cracks and Hester chokes out a pained gasp.

Sophie blinks in shock along with the rest of the class.

It’s not that his reaction times are fast, she slowly realizes in awe, it’s that he knows they’re coming before they do.

Tedros releases the demon and it drags itself back to a panting Hester, sinking into her neck with a gurgle.

Tedros then pushes back his hair with his clean hand and wipes the dirty one in his shirt before flopping back into his seat and propping his feet onto the desk with a sigh.

“Fun stuff,” he says, looking utterly relaxed even as Hester coughs at the desk across from him, Anadil rubbing her back as the tattooed witch continues wheezing.

The classroom is otherwise completely silent, they could have heard a pin drop.

“What is your talent?” Professor Sheeks inquires, looking, for the first time, legitimately interested.

Morbid fascination lights up the rest of the Evil student’s faces as they lean forward to hear Tedros’ answer. Something that could hold off Hester, their most fearsome competitor till now, was just delightfully terrible.

Tedros definitely has a theatrical sense for drama, because he tilts his head to the side and grins, allowing them to reach the point where they’re literally on the edge of their seats before he speaks, “Every evil idea, every malevolent thought that enters your heads,” Tedros starts, expression devilish “Is played out loud in my head,” the twist of his lips warps into something manic “Every despicable move you think up,” his eyes flash, “I’ll know before you even make it.”

“Every single evil thought?” someone questions.

“Every single one.”

“How far does your talent go?” Dot asks, “Can you hear everybody in this room?”

Tedros’ expression softens for the very first time since Sophie has known him as he turns to face Dot, “Baseline is a 10 meter radius,” he sighs, “But I can make it bigger if I want.”

“Doesn’t it get loud?” Dot asks again, gesturing at her head.

His eyes drop to the floor at that question, Sophie sees a muscle tick in his jaw.

“Sometimes,” Tedros’ laugh sounds forced when he adds, “It doesn’t matter.”

Sophie thought the class would be over after that, but Professor Sheeks jerks her chin at her.

“Get up and figure out your talent, Reader.”

Sophie shakily gets to her feet.

The whole class must have thought that was the craziest thing they’d see today, and Sophie had thought so too. But when she’d called on her bird friends to help her show a talent, a swarm of locusts, vampire bats and wasps had come to her aid instead, and scared half the Nevers under their desks before she succeeded in banishing the deadly pests out the window.

Tedros had only looked impressed, piercing stare like a white-hot spotlight on Sophie.

———

Agatha is glad to see Sophie again in the last class of the day. All her previous classes had been trash can fires personified. “Forest Group” is led by a gnome called Yuba, and Agatha is not pleased with the company that arrives after her best friend.

She is not glad to see him again. Agatha wishes Tedros would just impale himself on his own sword already. Then she would finally be rid of him, his whole character just rubbing her the wrong way like the embodiment of nails on a chalkboard.

Big blue eyes framed by ridiculously long eyelashes, currently scan the rest of the forest group and assess each boy and girl as if committing their faces to memory. His thoughtful gaze slides over Sophie and Agatha then skips back and stays there. Agatha can practically feel Sophie’s heartbeat quicken.

The way he looks at her and Sophie makes Agatha think that there’s something about them that irritates him more than he lets on.

“Oh my god, Aggie, he’s just perfect!” Sophie’s emerald green eyes are sparkling and locked onto the sapphire ones of the annoyingly handsome Never boy staring back at her. Sophie bites her lip, smoothing down her black uniform.

“Sophie, did you not hear me last time?” Agatha hisses, “He’s not a prince!”

Sophie scoffs, “That sword tells me different,” she fluffs her hair around her shoulders, “Heir to the most famous Ever kingdom in the whole Woods.”

“But he’s a Never! Evil students can’t be princes!”

Sophie ignores her.

Tedros starts walking towards them and it’s like Sophie instantly turns into a completely different person. She flips her blonde hair over her shoulder and drops the fangirl attitude for what Agatha thinks is supposed to be a seductive simper.

Agatha risks a short glance at Tedros again, as she doesn’t want to look at him too much, because just the flash of that stupid smirk has her fuming with a swirling mix of annoyance and anger.

He’s staring at her as he saunters towards them, eyes narrowed. She glowers back, and considers giving him the finger, but before she can, he looks away with a growl, face dissatisfied and malcontent. So far, everytime he has looked at her, Agatha feels like he has been searching for something, only to come up empty.

He sidles up to Sophie and gives her once-over, “How are you doing, darling?”

Sophie blushes prettily, “Better now, thank you.”

Agatha startles, “Why, what happened?”

“There was a little incident during Evil Talents with Professor Sheeks,” Tedros bites his lip in between a roguish smile directed at Sophie, “But everything’s alright, now,” he assures, turning once again towards Agatha.

Now it’s Agatha’s turn to narrow her eyes, as she appraises the boy in front of her. She could easily write him off as a normal jerk if not for the slightly unhinged look she sees lurking beneath the surface.

His lazy expression seems too practiced, almost forced.

Tedros’ casual smirk wavers for just a flash of a moment and Agatha sees hot rage and feral restlessness burning in his eyes before it’s quickly replaced by apathetic indifference, coy smile put in place once again.

Agatha is glaring hard enough to turn coal into diamonds and back again. That’s enough evidence for her.

“Tell me what happened, Sophie.”

Sophie balks at the sudden seriousness in Agatha’s voice and lets out an uneasy giggle, “It was nothing, really.”

“Tell me.”

Tedros is glaring now too. “She said it was nothing.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Agatha snaps.

“Too bad,” Tedros shoots back, before a corner of his mouth lifts and he drops an arm over Sophie’s shoulders, “She discovered her talent. Satisfied?”

“Hardly.”

“I can speak for myself,” Sophie huffs.

Agatha sets her mouth in a hard line, “What is it?”

“My talent?” Sophie sighs sheepishly, “I can summon animals when I sing?” She phrases it more like a question than a statement and Agatha cocks an eyebrow.

“That’s all that happened?”

“More like vermin and other nasty creatures,” Tedros offers conspiratorially, leaning into Agatha’s space with a grin. She shoves him away with a scowl and he stumbles backwards before holding his hands up in a placating gesture, stepping back a couple more steps.

Sophie crosses her arms over her chest with a pout, “Whatever, they count as animals.” She brightens in the next second, “But Teddy has a super cool talent!” she gushes.

“Teddy” sidles up to Sophie and whispers something into her ear that Agatha only catches the tail end of.

“—doesn’t need to know.”

“Yes, I do,” Agatha insists, grabbing Sophie’s hand in urgency. Tedros and Sophie sharing a secret between them makes Agatha anxious, cold sweat already rising on the back of her neck. Sophie looks conflicted for a moment before Tedros’ hand slips around the petite blonde’s waist. The grip he has on her looks possessive. Although something tells Agatha it’s all about the secret and not about Sophie herself.

“It’s not a big deal,” Sophie says, looking apologetic.

Agatha’s lips thin, hands clenching at her sides. Tedros’ smirk turns lazy at the sound of his victory.

“I’ll find out eventually,” Agatha hisses at Tedros.

He offers her a condescending little wave before he’s ushering Sophie towards the rest of the Nevers, leaving Agatha alone with the Evers. Agatha looks to the side and catches Beatrix’s eyes. A sickeningly sweet smile spreads across the other Evergirl’s face for a brief moment before the topaz-eyed princess is turning back to her friends and ignoring Agatha entirely.

Professor Yuba calls for their attention with a heavy, iron bell that clangs once, twice before everyone is quiet.

“For your first lesson,” Yuba explains, “You’ll be learning the rules of Good and Evil. And you’ll be learning to tell the difference between Evers,”— He points to the Good students in glimmering pink and blue— “And Nevers,”— He points at the mass of Evil students in black.

“Dot, you can go first,” Yuba orders, turning Millicent and Hort into identical pink unicorns.

One immediately starts copying the other and soon the two unicorns are prancing around like mimicking mimes. Needless to say, Dot does not succeed in telling them apart.

That same pattern repeats itself with each following trio until only Tedros, Agatha and Sophie are left. Yuba waves Agatha and Sophie forward and Sophie perks up at the chance to impress Tedros.

The Never Prince gets a blindfold tied around his eyes by the gnome and Agatha can summon nothing more than a sullen grimace before Yuba is turning them into twin foxes, identical red fur, identical white faces, and identically sharp ears.

Sophie brushes past Agatha with a strut and sits down in front of her.

Tedros’ hand twitches by his side.

Once Agatha and Sophie have more or less become accustomed to their temporary new bodies, it takes Sophie a bit longer as she preens and fluffs her tail, Yuba removes Tedros’ blindfold.

Tedros takes one look at them and gestures at Agatha, “That’s the Ever.”

“Are you sure?” Yuba asks incredulously, “You’ve hardly judged them.”

“I’m sure,” Tedros responds to Yuba and the speechless crowd of Evers behind him.

Agatha’s eyes are wide with surprise even after she and Sophie have been transformed back. She glances at her best friend and is baffled to see Sophie examining her nails, the blonde girl almost bored with it.

The other Nevers look similarly unsurprised by Tedros’ jaw-dropping performance. A few whisper to each other, but the only emotion Agatha can observe is jealousy?

Nobody could tell Good and Evil apart that fast unless they had outside help. Agatha peers around to see if she can catch any guilty faces, maybe another Evil student who had helped Tedros cheat, but she finds nothing. Agatha berates herself. She had done nothing to make herself look Evil so she had no one to blame but herself for Tedros’ quick win.

Yuba finally dismisses them and Agatha watches in confusion as Hester and Anadil pull Sophie away from Tedros and press against her from both sides, Dot trailing behind them as the two witches whisper in Sophie’s ear.

Tedros’ eyes flick over to the four Nevergirls before he jogs forward to join Ravan and Hort on their way back to Evil castle. The latter obviously displeased at the new development and the former simply mildly amused when Tedros hooks an arm over both their shoulders. Tedros says something with an impish look and Ravan snickers while Agatha watches Hort try to hold back a smile, unfortunately for him, unsuccessful.

Agatha considers the three Neverboys as they leave, then shakes her head in exasperation. Despite being a Never, Tedros made it look like making friends was easier than breathing. If that ass could make friends, so could she.

“Agatha!”

Her head snaps up in surprise. One of the other Evers, a girl called Kiko, is waving her over. Another Evergirl called Nicola is already standing next to her. Both of them look friendly, genuine smiles bright on their faces.

“Hi,” Kiko smiles, once Agatha reaches her, “You want to walk back together?”

After a moment Agatha nods, a swirling mix of nervousness and excitement fluttering in her chest. Nicola flanks her left side while Kiko stays on her right. Worries about Tedros and Sophie and Good and Evil and mysterious talents are pushed to the back of her mind.

Chapter Text

Around seven and a half weeks of classes pass; Tedros is making great strides with Sophie and the only thing he should be feeling is satisfaction. But he’s not. And it’s all Agatha’s fault. Every interaction with her left him on edge, Tedros thinks as he stalks back to his dorm room in Mischief Tower.

He couldn’t read her no matter how much he tried, her thoughts a complete mystery to him. Tedros scowls. Every single person had evil thoughts, even those insipid Evers suffered the occasional malicious idea.

But Agatha? Absolutely nothing. And Tedros hates it.

He kicks the door of his shared room with Ravan and Hort open before slouching onto one of the desk chairs, charred from a long-ago fire. Hort glares at him from his spot on his bed, homework spread out before him.

“Being a cocky bastard won’t get you any allies,” the weasel-faced Never snaps, “I already don’t like you.”

“Oh, Hort,” Tedros moans melodramatically, “How you wound me.”

Hort snarls and turns his head to the side, arms folded tightly across his chest, “You’re such an arrogant prick.”

Tedros winks, “That I am.”

A beat of silence. Tedros sinks lower into his chair, eyes lowered to half-mast like he’s bored. Or high. Hort fidgets.

He shoots Tedros a look from the corner of his eye. “You really hear every evil thought?”

Tedros looks a tad more awake when he eventually replies, “Yessir,” he clasps his hands behind his head and smiles, leaning back, “Don’t worry Hort, I won’t tell anyone about your little crush.”

Hort looks appalled, brows scrunching on his forehead, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You think about killing me every time I get close to Sophie,” Tedros tilts his head, “It gets pretty graphic,” he laughs, “But I’m sure you knew that.”

Hort snarls, “You better keep quiet, because I’ll do it.”

Tedros raises his eyebrows, unimpressed, “Not like that you won’t.”

The blond rises to his feet and walks towards Hort, before roughly tugging him up to stand, not seeming the least bit bothered by Hort’s height.

“What th—“ Hort sputters.

“You look like a light breeze could blow you over,” Tedros critiques, wrapping a hand around Hort’s upper arm, “Put on some muscle and you might stand a chance.”

Hort wrenches away from the blond with a scowl.

“I don’t need your help.”

Tedros raises his hands in mock surrender, backing away with a barely suppressed smirk, “Alright.”

Hort’s expression changes from hostile to contemplative.

“Are you and Sophie together?” Hort asks, glancing at Tedros from the corner of his eye, looking now almost too focused on his homework from Lady Lesso’s last lesson.

“No.” Tedros looks at Hort and doesn’t even have to listen to the voice in his head. The other Never is angry, dare he say even murderous, of course. He drops down onto his own bed and pulls out his textbooks.

“But I saw you two yesterday—“ Hort pushes.

The blonde leans against the wall behind his bed and puts his History of Villainy textbook aside “That was nothing. More like friends with benefits.”

“What, like you guys help each other cheat on tests?”

Tedros stares at him “... no.”

“Then what the hell does ‘benefits’ mean?”

Tedros looks to the side, covering his smile with the back of his hand, “I’m not going to educate you on hook-up terminology right now.”

Hort rises from his seat on his own this time, walking up to Tedros and grabbing him roughly by the front of his shirt. Tedros doesn’t seem phased, gazing impassively up at Hort from under lowered eyelashes.

“You’ll tell me exactly what you two have been doing,” Hort demands.

“No.”

“Tell me!” Hort shakes Tedros slightly by his tight hold on the blond’s black shirt, fingers twisted through the undone laces. But it’s more like Tedros is letting him, rather than Hort having the upper hand.

“You’re best off not caring about her,” Tedros replies, gaze turning strangely sympathetic.

Hort’s grip loosens slightly as he searches for something in Tedros’ eyes.

“What does she usually think about?”

“Hort—“

“I don’t care,” the dark-haired Neverboy interrupts, voice rising to a near shout, expression pleading, “Just tell me!”

Tedros groans as if it pains him to say it, “She thinks about becoming Queen, she thinks about marrying me and she thinks about how much better she is than everybody else.”

Hort looks away, letting go of Tedros as his arms fall to his sides.

“That’s all she thinks about.” Tedros says, voice almost imperceptibly softer, “Other than disgust for most other Nevers, Sophie doesn’t care about Evil.”

“I can still love her,” Hort insists, brown eyes still on the floor.

“You can,” Tedros sighs, “But you’d be better off in the meantime if you didn’t.”

Hort opens his mouth to retort but Tedros cuts him off.

“I know I can’t stop you, so I’ll give you some tips—“

“I told you I don’t want your help,” Hort mutters.

Tedros continues as if Hort hadn’t spoken, “Stop pining after her, Sophie likes the things she can’t have,”— The blond punches Hort lightly on the shoulder —“Taking care of yourself a bit wouldn’t hurt either.”

Hort frowns, peering down at himself.

Tedros leans in to whisper in the other Neverboy’s ear, “And smelling like baby powder is a bit old-school,” Tedros slides a hand from Hort’s nape into his dark hair, “Try showering,” Tedros offers a wolfish grin as he observes Hort, noses barely an inch apart.

His demeaning comments and closeness have exactly the effect Tedros had hoped for. Hort flushes peach pink and the blond grins wider, before letting his smile fall, hand digging deeper into the black hair as he licks his lips.

Hort’s eyes flick down to Tedros’ plush mouth and Tedros blinks once, lazily observing Hort’s inner turmoil.

Hort finally shoves away, cheeks red.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Tedros asks, expression deceptively innocent.

“Stop your—“ Hort huffs, turning his back on Tedros, “Your diabolical charms!”

Hort doesn’t catch the positively depraved smile spread wide across the blond boy’s features, ice blue eyes glimmering with barely concealed mirth.

“As you wish,” Tedros replies with an over-exaggerated bow.

Hort leaves soon after, Tedros’ antics apparently too much, door slamming behind him.

“That was too easy,” Tedros laughs to himself, alone in the dormroom, snatching Hort’s finished homework off the bed and sitting down at his desk to look over the other boy’s work.

Tedros had set out to copy and paste the homework, so to speak, the vile cheater that he is. But once he lays eyes on Hort’s (frankly atrocious) work, Tedros does his own assignment, grumbling all the while, before correcting Hort’s, jaw clenching as he does so, cursing his sentimentality.

Tedros couldn’t have a roommate fail Lady Lesso’s class. That just wouldn’t do.

———

“They’re ridiculous,” Agatha says to Sophie, who is already watching the three Neverboys that just entered the clearing. If she didn’t have any common sense and survival instinct, she’d probably be obsessed with them too.

“Aggie, he’s so pretty!” Agatha follows her gaze to the middle one and automatically rolls her eyes.

“Sophie, he’s so unstable.”

Sophie winks, “Oh darling, you know the insane give the best kisses.”

Agatha throws up a little in her mouth as she watches Sophie sashay towards the three other Nevers.

She really doesn’t know how to feel about Tedros. He acts like being a narcissistic ass is his job, but sometimes she sees a vulnerability in him that makes her almost sympathize with his situation.

Prince of the greatest Ever Kingdom in the Woods? All those expectations and to not be able to meet them because your soul isn’t good enough? Ouch.

The past few weeks Agatha has grown more and more sure in her belief that there was something Tedros really didn’t like about her. And if she was someone else she probably would’ve been scared. But her studies at the School for Good had been going surprisingly well and she’d even beaten Beatrix during a spell-casting challenge with Professor Uma.

So even though he threw her dark looks every now and then, Agatha just glared right back, unafraid, even though she’d seen Nevers and Evers alike cower under Tedros’ cutting stare.

Agatha keeps waiting for him to snap.

He does, just not when she expects.

Tedros seems to have been on edge starting after she’d caught him staring at her name near the top of the Ever scoreboard. He’d stuck out his tongue at her but she could tell that it bothered him more than he let on. Then Tedros had been sulking so much that Ravan had walked off in exasperation after trying to get the blond’s attention at least half a dozen times.

What had surprised Agatha about Tedros was that he had also formed an unlikely friendship with Dot, the last person she’d expected after seeing him sauntering around with Ravan and Hort. They definitely made an interesting pair; his brooding, muscled silhouette and her short and bubbly figure stark contrasts against the gray walls of the Never castle. But in a way, she could see the appeal that he and Dot presented to each other.

For Tedros, despite being obviously more comfortable in the presence of Evers, he’d still resolved to hate them. So he only made friends with Nevers. And Dot, despite being a Never, had such a kind heart that she could easily pass as an Ever.

For Dot, Tedros was the one person who didn’t constantly make fun of her. He had his moments; moments where he dropped the asshole persona and could almost be described as thoughtful.

Agatha isn’t really paying attention but out of the corner of her eye she catches one of the Nevers watching Dot with what could only be described as malicious intent. The Trial by Tale had been announced a couple days prior and both Nevers and Evers were already forming alliances and choosing first targets.

Agatha doesn’t know that Tedros has moved until the Neverboy is on the ground. There’s a bruise already darkening on the other Never’s jaw and he has a hand cradled against his chest. As Agatha looks closer, she sees that one of his fingers might even be broken, judging from the warped angle of the knuckle.

“Don’t even think about it.” Tedros growls from above him, eyes filled with blue fire.

He then walks over to Dot, loops an arm around her waist and pulls her backwards into his chest. Dot looks worried but doesn’t pull away from him, only putting a hand on his arm, possibly to try and calm him down because he’s still seething. The furious look in Tedros’ eyes doesn’t leave and he’s breathing harshly.

He suddenly spins around and walks off, Dot still tucked under his arm. She peeks back again with concern but Tedros keeps his furious pace until the pair are far away.

Agatha thinks it’s good that Hester wasn’t at lunch, because whatever made Tedros angry, would have in turn made Hester rabid. Despite regularly making fun of the third member of their coven, Anadil and Hester were Dot’s fiercest protectors. And now that Agatha thinks about it, Hester hadn’t been at lunch, and she hadn’t seen Anadil today either. They weren’t ones to miss class, so it must have been important. Likely plotting their Trial by Tale strategy Agatha concludes.

Chapter Text

Tedros had been so excited to show off his new moves to his dad, excited to finally show Arthur something he might approve of. He had hidden himself behind the maroon drapes in the King’s official chambers, barely managing to hold in his giggles as he readied himself to jump out and surprise his dad.

First he had wanted to show Mom, but he couldn’t find her anywhere in the whole entire castle. Tedros knows, because he’d searched for her the entire afternoon. She must have left on a diplomatic mission or something, He was sure of it.

But the door of the office suddenly bangs open and his father arrives in a rush with Merlin and numerous other advisors, the large group of adults momentarily making Tedros unsure of himself, small fingers clenching nervously in the fabric of his pants.

They all seem to be discussing something very important and Tedros holds his breath, suddenly giddy with glee once again. He’ll show his new talent to all the important adults. Then they’ll have to like him.

“Can I disown him?” Arthur mutters to Merlin and the other advisors. This is the first clear sentence Tedros is able to make out over all the arguing.

His breath catches, barely suppressed laughter dying in his throat. Oh. Tedros knows who they’re talking about.

He tries to swallow, but something heavy and afraid forms in his chest.

“I don’t know,” says Lord Flintshire, the only noble who’s name Tedros had made sure to remember, because he had smiled at Tedros once, “I dearly hope you can.”

The growing lump in his throat almost makes Tedros whimper from his spot behind the curtain.

Merlin says nothing and Tedros hates him for it. Why isn’t he defending him?

“I can’t send him away without a reason,” Arthur snaps.

“The boy’s soul is reason enough,” another nobleman hisses.

Before he had been trying to dampen childish laughter and now it’s not hard to stay quiet. Silence comes easy as they discuss the flaws he didn’t even know he had. Flaws that are so bad his dad doesn’t want him. Tedros stares at his own hands, unseeing, frozen.

He doesn’t know how much time passes but Tedros eventually realizes that they’ve left. He comes out from behind the curtain and leaves the room, leaving the door open behind him.

His steps are halting and he falters a couple times, an uncomfortable feeling squeezing at his chest. His feet make no sound on the marble in the vast corridors of Camelot castle. Wind whistles outside and the sky is grey through the large arching windows on his right side. He feels briefly unattached to his own body.

But suddenly, like a flame being ignited, his grief sours and warps into rage that feels all-consuming as Tedros shuffling steps turn into stomps as he storms through the dark halls of Camelot castle, feeling as angry as a little 8 year old can get. He throws off his coat, leaving it somewhere strewn on the marble floors before shoving the doors to the garden open and breaking into a run once the cool night air hits his face.

Once he passes the rose bushes to cross the expansive lawn in front of their pear trees Tedros throws himself to the ground, panting heavily, before he lets the scream deep in his chest rip out of his throat and he wails at the night sky, the stars above him like little openings towards a heaven he can’t reach.

Burying his head in his hands, fingers clenched in his own hair, Tedros falls forward and presses his forehead into the ground, digging his fingers into that perfect green grass Arthur had insisted on preserving, no stupid games or running allowed.

Tedros tears it up with vicious satisfaction, sluggish tears dripping onto his dirty hands.

He’s not crying. He doesn’t want to. He’s not. He’s not.

———

“How do you do it?” Brone wonders, tearing into a charred piece of beef during lunch, “The grades and your extracurricular activities,” he says around his mouthful, eyebrows waggling, “It’s like you’re villainously perfect.”

Tedros rubs the back of his neck in an unusual show of sheepishness.

“You know, sharing a room with him is actual hell. The bastard gets up like 5 times every night,” Hort gripes from his spot at the end of the bench next to Vex.

“Getting up to spend time with your girl,” Tedros responds with a teasing smile, lazily waving a piece of bacon in Hort’s face before throwing it up in the air and catching it in his mouth, swallowing with a grin.

“Bold of you to assume Hort has a girl,” Ravan snickers and the whole table erupts into raucous laughter.

All except for Hort who sits there, fuming, face beet red in embarrassment.

Tedros pats Hort on the shoulder with a good-natured smile on his face, “Don’t worry about it, it’ll happen when it happens.”

“Which is never,” Vex cuts in and everybody laughs.

Tedros raises a hand and frowns, “Come on, we don’t tolerate bullying here in Evil.”

A beat of silence.

The laughter explodes once again, even louder than before.

Through the snickers and cackles of the Neverboys, an unfamiliar bell of clear laughter rings through the clearing and Tedros turns in confusion, and his gaze lands on who else but Agatha, head tipped back as she continues to giggle at something Kiko or Nicola had said.

It seems Tedros is the only one who heard because no one is staring like he is. Unknowingly mesmerized, he continues watching her and when he really zeroes in on Agatha, it’s like a thick blanket is thrown over all the evil thoughts in his vicinity, muting them. A wispy golden haze takes over his vision, and Tedros relaxes. He unwittingly floats in it for a second… before flinching in shock.

The noise is back to it’s normal level and he sits there, still reeling. He tears his focus away from her, eyes wide.

After he shakes his head and slowly glances over again, Agatha is already looking at him and their gazes lock. For once, Tedros doesn’t put up any wall and Agatha doesn’t glare.

She seems surprised by it herself, tilting her head as her eyebrows furrow.

Kiko says something to get Agatha’s attention back and the raven-haired princess is looking away again, leaving Tedros to slowly tear his eyes away, focusing back on his food.

———

Tedros looks up just as Arthur hits him. His head snaps to the side and he can taste blood in his mouth. He feels pathetic as he crumples against the unyielding chill of the wall. Arthur yanks him to the side by his hair and Tedros’ knees hit the hard floor as his father punches him straight across the jaw.

Arthur hasn’t been the same since Mom left.

And Tedros is still too skinny to fight back. His slender frame speaks of too many missed meals, scared to go to dinner for the fear of his father’s mood swings and the pain that always follows, like a dark cloud through the empty castle.

He has spent too much time alone, countless days passed with nothing to sate his hunger. He’s also a miserable coward. He hates himself for still hoping that his father will somehow learn to love him, evil or not.

Arthur pushes him up against the wall, one hand around his throat, tight.

“Dad.” He chokes out, hands closing over Arthur’s wrist to try and push him away. “Please, please—“

“Keep that vile mouth shut, you’re no son of mine.”

Tedros’ vision starts clouding, darkness pulling at the edges.

His feet aren’t touching the ground. He can’t get air into his lungs at all anymore, he’s wheezing, gasping, but his breaths are weak and broken.

Tedros is sure he’s going to pass out. He gropes weakly at his father’s forearms in a feeble attempt to escape but Arthur simply snatches both of the prince’s wrists in one hand and pins them to the wall above his head.

His 14 year old body is no match for his father’s as he desperately thrashes in Arthur’s grip, the last dredges of energy draining away as his thin frame is held up from the ground by only one of his father’s powerful hands.

Arthur suddenly lets go and Tedros collapses onto his hands and knees, arms giving out and he’s on his elbows, coughing and crying, tears carving paths down the blood on his cheeks.

“No wonder your mother left you.” Arthur growls, and Tedros feels empty but the tears keep coming, splashing to the floor, red swirling in the droplets as the pain throbs in his chest, “You are why she left.”

His arms are shaking as he tries to crawl away but Arthur kicks him in the stomach and he skids a few feet on the marble floor, colliding with the wall again. Arthur kicks him in the stomach again and again, then kneeling over him to straddle his hips and hold him down.

Tedros starts thrashing immediately, trying to get his father off of him, but he’s sobbing and Arthur’s stronger, and in a minute his father has his hands pinned to the floor.

Then everything is pain.

Arthur goes on even after Tedros stops fighting, blood pooling around him, after Tedros stops making any sounds, Arthur’s words still pouring along with his fists.

Tedros vaguely notices that Arthur is wearing the ring Guinevere gave him to celebrate his son’s birth. A brilliant blue sapphire that matches the prince’s eyes almost exactly.

It’s ironic, Tedros thinks, that that very stone will be used to blind him.

———

Dot squints up at Tedros from the ground and puts a hand over her eyes. It was still winter but luckily the sun had decided to shine for the first time in ages. She was going to go blind if she had to keep looking up. Of course Tedros had an idiotic fascination with climbing trees, usually going much farther than was probably safe, and perching on branches that swayed under his weight. “You’re going to hurt yourself one of these days, can you please come down?”

His blonde hair glints in the sunlight as he turns his head down to observe her. He’s remarkably still as he watches her.

Dot huffs in exasperation. ”What?”

Honestly, sometimes Dot feels like being Tedros’ friend had more negative sides than positive ones. Yes, he could be kind and thoughtful when he felt like it, but sometimes his strange idiosyncrasies made her want to tear her hair out.

Tedros stares at her from up in the tree, “I’m just having a hard time believing you belong here.”

Dot’s neck starts to get stiff so she gives up on trying to keep an eye on him and plops down with her back against the tree.

To not belong here? In Evil? Tedros wasn’t the most intelligent out of the Never bunch but she didn’t think he was this stupid. Of course she belonged in Evil. The School Master didn’t make mistakes. And just because she didn’t feel as malevolent as the rest of her peers didn’t mean she didn’t belong.

It’s quiet for a while. But she hears a rustle and a woosh of air is the only warning that she gets when there’s a swirl of black and Tedros lands on his feet in front of her like a panther. She almost jumps out of her skin and wants to immediately scream at him for being such a jerk.

She settles for a calm inquiry into his mental health “Do you have a death wish?”

He shrugs, “Yes, but that’s not important.”

Dot decides to ignore his frankly concerning comment and instead tries for something with a slightly lighter theme. “What’s your biggest fear then, Teddy? It can’t be heights, after all.”

Tedros narrows his eyes, “If I say spiders, you gonna put some in my room?”

Dot only notices that he’s joking when she catches the glimmer in his eyes and how he’s trying not to smirk. She rolls her eyes and looks away without saying anything. She feels him drop down next to her and leans against his shoulder with her own. One of Tedros’ saving graces was his constant warmth. Sitting next to him in the winter was like sitting next to a heater.

He sighs, “Probably dependency, when you want someone and you feel like you need them with you all the time.”

Agatha crosses his mind but Tedros wishes the thought away with an irritated huff.

Dot is confused for a moment before she asks, “Do you mean love?”

Tedros shakes his head, “No, I mean where you would risk your life for someone against all instinct and reason, just to keep them alive. It doesn’t make sense how much you’d do for them.”

It’s unbelievable how much of an airhead he is, Dot thinks to herself.

“My biggest fear is being left all alone.” She looks down at the ground in embarrassment. She’s never admitted that to anyone.

Suddenly there’s a muscled arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Dot meets his blue eyes, surprised at the rare show of sincerity.

“Your view of love is scarily clinical” she says then, ruffling his hair like she would a child’s. Much to her disappointment, every last golden hair falls perfectly back into place when she takes her hand away.

Tedros scoffs, “It’s not love, it’s weakness.” He then stares off into the distance like some cliché Prince Charming, brooding over another existential crisis. “Besides, love was just a word invented by saps anyway.”

“Alright, Mr. Philosophy.” Dot mutters. “What about your most embarrassing moment? That’s got to be at least a little funny.”

Tedros rubs the back of his neck and looks at her from the corner of his eye, giving her a sheepish grin. Dot groans, “Oh, no. Why does it always have to be like this with you?’

“No, not like that.” Tedros lies. “Arthur caught me in a compromising situation with a visiting dignitary's son.” Tedros purses his lips “Yup. Did not make him like me more.”

Dot raises her eyebrows “You don’t call him Dad?”

“I’m not allowed to.”

She’s shocked into silence but Tedros seems to be in his head because he doesn’t comment on the sudden quiet.

“He didn’t do anything?” Dot asks as she eyes him. Tedros doesn’t respond at first and that’s when Dot can tell he’s lying.

Tedros shakes his head but his eyes don’t leave the ground. “No, he just ignored me for the next couple months.”

“Mmm,” Dot hums, Tedros’ true fragility washing crystal clear in her eyes for the first time, “We can talk about it if you want,” she offers after a beat of silence.

Tedros shoots her a look and Dot knows he knows.

The blond Never scoffs before shaking his head, “No, it’s fine. I’m not some pathetic Ever.”

“No, you’re not,” Dot says, tone gentle.

Blue eyes flick to meet hers before breaking eye contact almost instantly afterward. Tedros growls almost to himself more than her before pushing himself to his feet.

“I need to go,” Tedros grunts over his shoulder.

And as he stalks away, Dot sighs to herself, “I should’ve known.”

Chapter Text

When Agatha learns about Tedros’ talent, and exactly what it entails, morbid curiosity is the first thing she feels. Followed quickly by shame and it’s the pity that sneaks up on her, like an unforeseen tidal wave.

All the Evers are sitting in the common room after lunch and Beatrix has opened court right in the middle, her voice filling up the room so extensively that it really can’t be considered eavesdropping as Agatha, Nicola and Kiko listen in.

“He has the face of an angel with the devil’s smile.” Beatrix is dreamily sighing, “Guys like that are so hot.”

Reena rolls her eyes, “Yesterday you were ranting about Nevers and how disgusting they are.”

“People change.”

Reena raises her eyebrows, “That much?”

“I don’t get the obsession, Bea,” Chaddick grunts, “He’s an asshole.”

“An asshole who’s the heir to Camelot,” Millicent adds.

“Exactly,” Beatrix affirms, pointing meaningfully at Millicent before relaxing back into the sofa, “It doesn’t matter if he’s a little bad–”

“A LITTLE?” Chaddick yells incredulously.

“–as long as he’s good to me and has that huge fortune back home, I’ll be satisfied.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Chaddick groans, collapsing back into the armchair he’s occupying across from Beatrix and Reena.

“But did you hear about his talent?” Beatrix muses, “It sounds impossible.”

Like magic, all the side chatter suddenly stops.

Agatha sees Evers leaning forwards in their seats, a couple scoot closer to where Beatrix is sitting. The honey-blonde princess knows exactly how much attention she has now and she sits up straighter, flipping a strand of silky hair over her shoulder, looking like a cat who got the cream.

“How did you find out?” Millicent pushes, green eyes wide under copper-red bangs.

“Some Nevers are weak,” Beatrix says, topaz eyes glimmering, “It didn’t take much to figure out why they hadn’t said anything about his talent.”

There’s a prolonged, tense pause before Reena breaks.

“So?” the silver-eyed princess prompts.

“He can hear evil thoughts,” Beatrix finally whispers, biting her lip.

Chaddick rolls his eyes right away, “What. Like every time someone has an evil thought, he hears it?”

Beatrix shrugs, “That’s how I understood it.”

“How is it determined what’s evil and what’s not?” Reena asks, voicing what Agatha had been thinking.

“How should I know? I think the rules are kind of foggy, and I heard his talent only works in a certain radius.”

“Whatever,” Chaddick mutters, “At least he can’t read our minds.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never had an evil thought?” Reena questions, expression sceptical, “I don’t know about you guys, but I have a couple sometimes.”

Agatha is starting to admire Reena for her ability to make the Evers think about things they don’t want to because suddenly the rest of the Good students are extremely preoccupied with their shoes or the pattern of the floor, refusing to lift their heads.

God knows Agatha’s had her fair share of evil thoughts: Wanting to rescue Sophie from the School Master just so the blonde would stay in Gavaldon with her, scaring the village children so they wouldn’t bother her mother.

Chaddick huffs, “I guess I’ve had a couple before.”

“Me too,” Millicent adds, cheeks coloring.

“Yeah,” Beatrix says softly, hands buried in the fluffy folds of her dress.

Agatha looks around at all the Evers who are nodding their heads. She might just be starting to like them, their ability to be introspective with their own emotions is something to admire. The Good students really aren’t as bad as Agatha had previously thought.

Nicola and Kiko are sitting on her left and right, watching all this go down like Agatha is. Nicola leans in to whisper in Agatha’s ear, “Do you think Sophie’s ever had a non-evil thought?”

The curly brunette snickers at the end but Agatha frowns, “I still think Sophie is a Good person, deep down.”

Nicola scoffs, “Yeah, deep down.”

Kiko’s eyebrows draw together after turning her attention to the other princess, “You seem a little obsessed with Sophie lately.”

“WHAT?”

“Yesterday you couldn’t stop talking about her before lights out.”

“COULD TOO!” Nicola contends shrilly, voice pitched higher than usual.

“You kept talking about her outfits–”

“They’re too extravagant for a Never!”

“–and it sounded a whole lot like praise.”

Nicola’s mouth drops open in disbelief and her cheeks blush dark red.

Agatha sits nervously between them, not used to having friends argue around her, let alone having multiple friends at all.

Luckily Kiko deescalates the heated discussion with a strategically placed hand on Nicola’s shoulder and a sigh, “It’s nothing, nevermind.”

Nicola nods, cheeks still flushed.

Kiko giggles, “It’s not like princesses can like princesses, or even Nevergirls for that matter.”

The curly brunette’s mouth snaps shut, face visibly paling a couple shades. Kiko doesn’t seem to notice and Agatha doesn’t comment on it, Nicola already looks uncomfortable enough. Her thoughts get drawn back to the blond Neverboy who had previously been the main topic of conversation when Beatrix and Millicent’s chatter reaches a newly unreached decibel as they discuss Tedros’ various attributes.

“His outfits are a little risqué, don’t you think?”

Beatrix flips her hair over her shoulder, turning her nose up at the redhead, “Nothing wrong with flaunting what you have.”

“Sometimes he doesn’t even wear a shirt,” Millicent whispers, pale cheeks flushing pink.

“That’s called eye candy, Millicent,” Beatrix replies, pursing her lips before applying a fresh layer of lip gloss from a tube that Agatha is sure she pulled out of her bodice.

Kiko and Nicola are discussing the merits and simultaneous downsides of the Snow Ball rules when Agatha murmurs to herself, “All those evil thoughts in his head, I wonder if he ever feels okay.”

Kiko pauses in her rant to Nicola before turning her attention to Agatha, staring at her in disbelief, “Are you feeling sorry for a villain?”

Agatha hesitates, “No…”

Kiko continues staring before she gasps, “You totally are!”

Agatha resolutely shakes her head, “I’m not, it’s just—“ she sighs, “I’m surprised he isn’t worse.”

“What do you mean?” Nicola asks.

“Don’t you think that if he’s hearing those things all the time that eventually he won’t be able to hold off being influenced by them?” Agatha slumps, “It’s just a lot of negativity.”

“Oh my god,” Kiko breathes, “You’re actually, like, really feeling sorry for him.”

Agatha pushes halfheartedly at Kiko’s shoulder, “Whatever.”

Nicola pulls a face, “You sound like one of those therapists that the rich kids in Gavaldon go to.”

Agatha scowls, “Don’t even remind me of that woman, she’s full of shit.”

The sudden tinkling of fairies signals the start of Forest Group and Agatha and the rest of the Evers file outside for their last class of the day.

Yuba looks delighted when they all arrive and Agatha is already dreading the lesson that will surely test her patience and her will to live.

“Today you will be working with someone from the other side,” Yuba grins, “Just for fun!”

Both the eyes of Evers and Nevers widen in horror before side-eyeing the other side in disgust. Yuba is still smiling nefariously (could gnomes be nefarious?) as he observes the unanimously negative reactions.

As soon as Yuba starts reading out the names of the people who would be working together, Agatha somehow knows who she’ll be paired up with.

“–Sophie and Beatrix, and finally Tedros and Agatha to go last.”

Agatha wants to run back to her room and hide under a blanket but Tedros is already taking his place next to her. She tries to stand up straighter, pulling herself out of her semi-permanent slouch despite the dirty stares she’d getting from Beatrix and Sophie.

“You will be tasked with carrying a valued object from one of the pair through an obstacle course, made by yours truly,” Yuba chuckles, “Blindfolded and guided by the other teammate. We took care to do a background check so don’t bother offering up something that doesn’t mean anything to you, we already know what your most valued object is.”

“He’s a psychopath,” Beatrix hisses under her breath.

“This challenge makes no sense!” Hort whines.

But soon enough the pairs start branching out, heading out to their assigned locations. Agatha and Tedros start arguing before they even reach the beginning of their obstacle course.

“I weigh less than you, it’ll be easier!” Agatha tries to insist but she cuts get off before she can say anymore.

“I’m sorry if I don’t trust the agility of a girl who tripped carrying a lunch pail–”

“That was one time!” Agatha interrupts, neck rashing red.

“So why should I trust you with my ring?”

“Your most prized possession is jewelry?” Agatha replies incredulously.

“Problem?” Tedros growls.

“No!” Agatha shoots, frustration growing, “That’ll be easier to carry than that dumb sword I was expecting to get from you.”

“Who the hell said you’re doing the obstacle course?” Tedros demands.

“I did!” Agatha gripes, “Just trust me!”

“Not going to happen.”

“Stop being so stubborn!” Agatha practically screeches.

Tedros pauses, and then slowly tilts his head to the side, “No.”

The flood-gates of Agatha's patience finally break before she snaps, “Just because nobody will ever trust you, just because there’s nothing worthwhile behind your good looks, only shallow hatred and selfishness, doesn’t mean everybody else is as nasty as you!”

Agatha regrets her words as soon as they leave her lips.

There’s only a millisecond where Agatha can see Tedros’ expression break before he’s back, cold as ever. He stalks forward.

Agatha starts to back up.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Tedros says with a wrecked voice, the roughness of it down to sandpaper from its usual rock tumbler. Agatha freezes. He licks his lips as he continues to prowl forward, not ashamed or violated as Agatha expected, but mean. A wicked grin splits his face. “You think you’re going anywhere after that little comment?”

Agatha's steps backwards falter. She's actually, truly nervous for what feels like the first time in forever. But she lived in a graveyard for her whole childhood, so being sent to the grave should be fine. Agatha gulps.

“You think you can just run that pretty mouth of yours whenever you want?” Tedros hisses, eyes like glacier ice.

“We have to pass this test, so you can’t kill me,” Agatha says, voice steady despite the thundering of her heart.

In the shadows of the blue forest, luminous blue eyes seem to glow in the dark as he stares at her.

“What makes you think I want to hurt you?”

“You hate me!” Agatha exclaims, arms spread wide in frustration, “You glare at me all the time even though I never did anything to you!”

Tedros doesn’t say anything.

Agatha’s hands drop to her sides before her head droops, “I shouldn’t have said–”

“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression,” comes a gentle voice and it takes a couple moments for Agatha to register that it was Tedros who spoke.

Her mouth drops open in surprise.

“I don’t hate you,” he says softly, so unlike himself, or rather so unlike the persona that he puts up for everybody that Agatha has trouble associating it with the Tedros she thought she knew.

Maybe it’s the dark that’s making them confessional because when Agatha finds her voice, she’s replying just as softly, “I don’t hate you either.”

There’s a ghost of a smile gracing his lips before the bell signaling the five minute mark till the time limit, reminding Agatha again of the task that they’re rapidly losing time for.

“You have to give it to me,” Agatha says, hand outstretched.

“Mmm, sounds dirty,” Tedros fires back with his most demonic smile, the one like he’s about to sprout fur and turn into an actual wolf, instead of just posing as an apex predator in human form.

“Now is not the time!”

“It’s always the time,” Tedros purrs, voice deep and velvety.

“Tedros–”

“Princess.”

“This is the only way we’ll pass!” Agatha urges.

Tedros huffs and reaches behind his neck, unclasping his necklace, a thin chain of white gold, a sapphire ring hanging from it before he walks up to Agatha and fastens it around her neck, fingers brushing her neck and making goosebumps rise on her skin. Agatha shivers.

When Tedros steps back her hand automatically goes to the ring, fingers tracing the ridges. Blue eyes are on her movements like a hawk, appraising her neck and the thin chain around it with a feral possessiveness.

Agatha doesn’t waste any more time and takes her place at the beginning of the obstacle course before binding the blindfold around her head. The first task is a “mine field” of stink bombs, then comes the river, and lastly a web of stinging vines, ones that would lash out if you even brushed up against them.

Tedros’ instructions on where to move are surprisingly helpful and she’s almost halfway through before the bell for the one minute mark rings out through the forest and Agatha almost slips in shock.

Tedros voices her thoughts with a curse, “Shit, we have more than half to go.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just listened to me in the first place!” Agatha snaps, arms spread to steady herself on the rocks embedded in the fast-flowing stream of ice cold water.

“Oh, please,” Tedros scoffs, “Give me one good reason to trust a princess.”

“Focus!” Agatha shouts, panicking briefly when her foot suddenly slides on the wet rock under her.

Agatha can’t see his expression but she’s certain Tedros is rolling his eyes.

Luckily, they successfully make it through with only a measly second to spare, Tedros helping her over the finish line right before the last bell rings.

The two of them sigh in relief and now that she can finally relax, Agatha leans back into Tedros’ heat before she knows what she’s doing, melting into his chest like a blissful cat in the sun. But the second his warm hand grazes her waist, Agatha is jerking away like she’s been burned, shocked at herself.

She swivels to look at his face and finds a lightly amused smile, nothing like the smirks he usually wears, his blue eyes crinkling at the edges.

And Agatha doesn’t say anything as she turns on her heel and runs. Past Yuba, past Nevers and Evers, past other Forest Groups. She doesn’t stop till she reaches the room she shares with Nicola and Kiko, slamming the door behind herself.

Oh.

Oh.

Chapter Text

Yuba’s lesson was the last one for the day so Tedros heads back to Malice Tower. He walks in a daze through the stone halls, after entering his room he drops his bag on the floor uncaringly and falls onto his bed. Staring at the stone ceiling Tedros wonders how he had let it get this far in the first place. Letting out a slow sigh, Tedros covers his face with both hands.

“So…who is she then?” Ravan scoffs. Tedros hadn’t even noticed him lounging on his bed. He hadn’t even looked up from his book.

“Fuck off Ravan,” he says without feeling. Trust the other Never to notice something was wrong with him so quickly. He couldn’t hide much from his roommate.

Ravan sits upright, suddenly confident that he has struck a nerve. “Or is it another he? Poor Sophie will be heartbroken,” he says mockingly, “Though perhaps not as much as you; flopping onto your bed like a lovestruck princess,” he loses it and snickers a little at the end.

Tedros sits up, on edge, “I’m not some Ever half-wit…I’ve just had a long day.”

“Whatever you say” Ravan smiles knowingly as he returns to his textbook, crossing his legs at the ankles.

“I just have to do something about it,” Tedros muses to himself, “Some way to ease the tension.”

He folds his arms under his head and stares up at the ceiling of their dorm room, losing himself to inspecting the various burn, flood and scratch marks on the wooden paneling above him. And in this introspective state a spectacular idea hits him. So spectacular he sits up on reflex in delight.

When Sophie knocks on their door later that night Tedros goes out like he usually would, Hort’s glare hot on his back. But once the two of them are alone in the hall and Sophie gets on her tiptoes to kiss him, Tedros pulls away.

Sophie frowns immediately, “What’s wrong with you?”

Tedros lifts her head with a finger under her chin, “I don’t think we should do this anymore,” he says easily.

Sophie jerks back in shock, cheeks coloring.

“I know someone who’s much more interested in you than I am,” he continues, raking back his hair with one hand, “She’s also much more your type.”

“How would you know that?” Sophie questions incredulously, the hurt in her voice soon turns to anger, “This is so sudden!”

Tedros sighs, “Even a prince like me needs some form of honor.”

Sophie’s eyebrows scrunch on her forehead in indignant confusion, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes it is,” Sophie insists, “You’re changing, and it’s making us worry about you!”

“Sophie, you didn’t care when we were hooking up.”

“You weren’t different then,” Sophie pouts, folding her arms across her silky black nightgown.

“Aw, darling,” Tedros purrs, approaching her like an animal tamer would approach a reactive viper, “The girl I caught obsessed with you is real pretty, she can’t stop staring.”

Sophie’s eyes glint at that. Tedros’ arm slips around Sophie’s waist in the mockery of a lover’s embrace, “I could arrange for something to befall this adorable princess and it would be Sophie to the rescue,” he whispers into her ear.

“I haven’t even agreed yet,” Sophie insists, hands on the Never prince’s muscled chest, trying to push him away, but a delighted giggle is already bubbling in her throat.

“You know of someone called Nicola?”

“Mmm.”

“She’s taken a real liking to you.”

Sophie bites her lip, “She is beautiful.”

“Yeah, she is,” Tedros affirms, venomously charming.

“You would– you could do that for me?” Sophie asks, wide green eyes meeting devilish blue ones.

“Anything for you, darling.”

—

The next day Tedros is on cloud nine, satisfaction coursing through his veins. Sophie’s ability to change crushes from one second to next was a godsend. The fire that he set in Good castle and the ensuing chaos that Sophie had rescued Nicola from had run like a picture-perfect cinema film. So what if a couple Evers got hurt? Professor Dovey would have the little prudes fixed up in no time.

Nicola is still clinging to Sophie and Tedros can tell Sophie is enjoying every little second to the fullest.

Tedros, meanwhile, is watching the aftermath of dozens of princesses having their hair ruined and Everboys trying to wipe away the resulting tears. He can’t stop the slight smirk that spreads across his face because it’s too perfect, it is. And he’s freed himself from Sophie, leaving him open to pursue… other interests.

That other interest is staring at him with lowered brows and clenched fists.

He offers Agatha a dainty finger wave, and as she moves to start stomping towards him, Tedros’ heart rises into his throat in anticipation, but much to his disappointment, something holds her back. She stops and turns around, walking back inside Good instead.

Oh well. You couldn’t have everything.

“Tedros!” a voice roars.

Tedros rolls his eyes. Oh joy.

“Chaddick! What brings you to this side of the clearing? Fancy a bit of smoggy air?”

Chaddick scowls and ignores the hand Tedros offers.

“You set that fire,” the buff Everboy accuses. He stands across from Tedros in all his righteous fury, gray eyes like steel.

“Yeah?” Tedros raises an eyebrow.

“I know you did.”

“Do you?” Tedros smiles, low and easy.

“Stop answering back with questions, I want you to admit what you did,” Chaddick snarls, “So you can face the proper punishment.”

“Mmm,” Tedros wrinkles his nose, “That doesn’t sound so good, I’ll have to pass.”

“Then I’ll have to carry it out myself.”

“Oh?” Tedros asks, delighted.

“Draw your sword,” Chaddick demands, “You really hurt the Evers and you need to face the consequences.” The burly Everboy draws his own broadsword and takes three steps back, leveling it at Tedros, "We'll do this the honorable way."

But the blond Never prince turns his back and starts walking away, “No,” he says over his shoulder with a grin, “Maybe some other time.”

Chaddick stares at the other boy in livid disbelief.

"Pussy!” he shouts at Tedros’ retreating back.

The blond Neverboy turns around slowly at that and smiles, eyes glinting, “I am what I eat.”

The burly Ever turns beet red and Beatrix chokes on her sandwich. The Never side of the clearing erupts in raucous laughter.

Tedros heads back to his, Ravan’s and Hort’s shared dorm room with the thrill of satisfaction even higher than before. But there’s a little thread of disappointment at the lack of reaction on Agatha’s part. Tedros pouts, she hadn’t even spoken to him.

And once he realizes the exact implications of that thought process he shakes his head in denial. He just wanted attention, nothing more. But that doesn't stop the tension from thrumming under his skin, good mood ruined.

When Tedros enters their shared room, Hort is the only one there. The other Neverboy eyes him as he flops onto his bed. He’s barely had time to try and relax into the hard mattress before Hort already starts speaking.

“You haven’t been yourself lately.” Hort says and considers Tedros from across their shared room.

“What the hell do you mean?” Tedros looks moodier and more conflicted than usual, which is saying something. He’s hiding it pretty well, in fact other people wouldn’t have noticed at all, but Hort wasn’t other people. Obsessively watching Tedros, then bonding over shared trauma and finally being able to call him his friend through many different (dangerous) escapades definitely had it’s benefits.

Hort avoids the question. “Sophie’s getting restless.”

Tedros rolls his eyes, “As if Sophie cares.”

“She does. We do.” The two boys look at each other from opposite sides of the room. Tedros looks hostile and Hort just has a wary expression on his face, like Tedros is a spitting cobra that could attack at the slightest provocation, "Despite the fact that you fixed her up with that princess."

Despite acting cool and apathetic during classes or lunch, Tedros had turbulent mood swings and heightened emotions that Hort had seen him fail to control, time and time again.

“Ok I’ll bite. What’s different?” Tedros raises his eyebrows and stretches his legs out in front of him, almost passing as the picture of indifference if not for the tick in his jaw that shows Hort how much he actually cares.

“You haven’t been hanging out with us.”

“Fuck, I wouldn’t have started shit if I knew you were this clingy.” The blonde Neverboy smirks but Hort catches the flash of unease in his eyes.

“It’s not just that. Quit being a narcissist.” Hort decides against mentioning the fact that if anyone could be called clingy, it was Tedros.

Tedros rolls his eyes again and doesn’t respond.

“Ravan can tell. You’re getting soft.”

The blond sneers at that. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Don’t be a prick. Agatha’s changed you.” At the mention of her name Tedros stiffens. Hort watches him, wishing he was doing anything else. Tedros’ unpredictability put him on edge and the fact that Tedros heard every bad thought that went through his head didn’t help either.

“Agatha?” Hort hears the forced calm in the other Never’s voice and begs himself to stay patient with his pain-in-the-ass best friend.

“Yeah,” Hort responds, “Agatha.”

“You were almost too chicken to go through with the plan today, and you’re telling me that I’m getting soft?”

Hort momentarily ignores the deflection and huffs, “Tedros, why did you want to set that fire?”

Tedros scoffs, “I have my reasons.”

“Reasons that involve getting Sophie and Nicola together, while providing you with an opening to talk to the lovely Agatha.” Tedros opens his mouth to respond but Hort barrels on, “You literally did it for love. Do you even realize that?”

Tedros clenches his jaw and doesn’t respond, but Hort knows he’s struck a nerve by the tell-tale flush of embarrassment on those unfairly high cheekbones. Tedros doesn’t say anything as he shrugs on his coat and opens the door.

“Don’t expect me back till late,” the blond says before slamming the door behind himself.

—

Agatha is banging on the door of Tedros’ room that night with what feels like the force of a thousand angry rhinos and as she remembers exactly why she’s angry she goes at the door even harder. It hadn’t been hard to cross the halfway bridge. Any idiot could figure it out.

The door opens and at first she only notices a mess of golden curls and two bleary blue eyes staring back at her. And then she sees him, all of him, and her body suddenly doesn’t want to listen to her as she stands frozen.

Tedros is wearing a pair of thin black shorts. And nothing else.

His tan chest is bare and the shorts are slung so low on those slim hips that they leave almost nothing to the imagination. He looks alarmingly vulnerable, nothing like a fearsome Never and more a young boy, still soft from sleep. Something flutters in her chest but she ignores it because she’s never liked boys and she wasn’t going to start now.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she whisper-shouts.

“Huh?” Tedros blinks sleepily at her and when Agatha has the thought that, hey, he’s actually kind of cute, she almost physically slaps herself.

“Setting the Good castle on fire?” Agatha whispers, furious once again, “Are you insane?”

At the word “fire”, a slight, self-satisfied smile spreads slowly across the blond boy’s features. He shuts the door of his room behind himself.

“You ass!”

Tedros raises his hands in supplication, “It was for a good cause.”

“Good cause?” Agatha repeats, letting out an incredulous laugh, “You wouldn’t know a good cause if it crawled up your pants!”

The more-or-less neutral expression Tedros has been keeping on his face breaks at that and he starts laughing, soon so hard that he’s holding onto the door frame while his other arm wraps around his stomach.

When the laughter finally dies down, Tedros steps farther out into the hall and into Agatha’s space.

Agatha’s never been more angry.

“You’re a jerk.”

Tedros tilts his head and stares at her, observing, “But you like me anyway,” he says quietly.

Agatha’s breath catches and she suddenly can’t meet his eyes. Her lips purse as she stares down at the floor.

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

Silence.

“I don’t” Agatha insists, indignant, and as she looks up at him again she realizes how he’s much closer than before, his features straight out of a hopeless romantic’s fantasy, there’s barely half a foot between them. She could lean forward just a few inches and…

She pushes him away with an angry huff, “You need to leave me alone,” she says.

“Do you mean that?”

And there’s that soft voice again, deep and bittersweet like dark chocolate.

Agatha’s eyebrows furrow and she looks at him again, really looks at him. He’s staring at her in the way he has no right to. Blue eyes open and vulnerable, arms straight at his sides like he’s nervous.

She steps forward and this time he’s the one backing up, his back hits the wall and Agatha is in his space. They’re breathing the same air and the raven-haired princess truly does not know what has come over her.

The ragged gasp that slips from his lips, eyelids fluttering closed, startles her into wanting to move back but his hand shoots out to grab her wrist, thumb at her pulse. That stops her. The skin on skin contact must do something because Agatha can only watch in starstruck fascination.

Her hand slides up to his throat, gripping firmly, his hand still loose around her wrist, and the full-body shudder that rolls through his body gives her an adrenaline high, her other palm moving up from his chest to his shoulder and her fingers slide up into the hair at his nape. When she tangles her fingers in his silky hair and grips tight, his eyes roll back into his head.

“So sensitive,” Agatha whispers, unable to stop it.

“Agatha-”

She moves closer until there’s only an inch between their parted lips. Every gasp Tedros lets out, she’s breathing in. But suddenly Tedros jerks out of it as his eyes snap open, sapphire and chocolate eyes meet, both wide.

Agatha stumbles back away from him and Tedros’ hands seem to be glued to the wall behind him.

They both stand there for what seems like an eternity, the atmosphere more conductive than a mine field.

“I’ll walk you back to Good,” Tedros blurts, notably less suave than usual. Agatha can’t even remember why she came over to Evil in the first place.

“Alright,” she nods, hands clasped in front of her. His hand is at the small of her waist to guide her around the corner but it’s gone as soon as it had come. And then they’re walking next to each other, silently side by side.

While they’re walking back to Good, Tedros is left to his thoughts and Agatha’s quietness unnerves him, too much.

“You all right?” he asks, once they’ve reached the halfway bridge.

“No,” she says sourly. “I wanted to kiss you.”

The boldness of that statement made Tedros think thank God, because he was already going crazy, and this was a sign that Agatha might cave soon.

“So can we or what?” Agatha asks.

“Be still my beating heart,” Tedros says.

“What. I’m supposed to be romantic now?”

“There’s a way to say these things.”

“If you want that from me, you’ll be waiting a long time.”

Tedros groans, dragging a hand down his face, “I don’t even know why I try.”

“Me neith—“

Tedros pulls her to him with a strong arm around her waist and him pressing his mouth against Agatha’s does wonders as the raven-haired princess’ eyes widen and she goes taught like a live wire, before her lashes flutter shut and she melts against him like syrup left in the sun.

Tedros smiles into the kiss, bringing her closer.

And there’s the golden edge of that cloud-like feeling again.

Chapter Text

Tedros sucks in a shaken inhale once he’s back in his room, thanking all the gods above that Ravan and Hort hadn’t woken up. He’s mercifully already composed himself, and sits himself on the window ledge, breeze ruffling his hair as he gazes out over the blue forest and the School for Good. All the blue of it makes him sickeningly introspective.

Touching her, letting her touch him, was something different.

Looking at her, during lunch that time, when all the voices had muffled into silence. That had been nothing compared to when he’d had his fingers on her pulse. Or when he’d kissed her.

God.

Tedros rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration.

The power dynamic between them had shifted so fast Tedros was still reeling from imbalance.

She was the princess. She should be swooning into his waiting arms, never mind the fact that he was a villain and not a real prince. Instead, he had collapsed against the wall like some blushing virgin and let Agatha have her way with him.

The second Tedros realizes he’s pouting like a petulant child, he jerks himself far out and away from that train of thought, shaking his head in denial.

The magic Agatha had used was something he’s only recognized on that grandmotherly, sickeningly sweet Professor Dovey, waving around her wand like she was the queen of the castle. Best friend to every Good student because Good students deserve a motherly figure to take care of their feathery white asses.

Tedros pushes that desperate little plea in his heart, begging for that very same thing, down deep where he can ignore it. He was well aware people with Evil souls didn’t deserve care or concern, Arthur had drilled that into him quite well.

Which is why Agatha disorients him.

Tedros is scowling as he finally lays down to sleep, hands folded under his head as he stares at the ceiling. Agatha had completely muted all the evil thoughts in his head. Granted, it was nighttime and there was generally less malice and vice, but still.

Nevermind the way she made him feel. There’s an alarming thought creeping to the forefront of his mind that she sees through every wall he puts up, that Agatha knows everything about him despite everything he does to stop that from happening.

And no matter how much he tries to deny it, Tedros knows that it’s bringing this warm, comforting, full feeling to his chest and he’s scared how far he’s willing to go chasing it.

Nonetheless, even with all the turmoil swirling around his head, the thought of their kiss lulls him into the first straight night of sleep he’s had in a long time.

—

Agatha, however, is not so lucky.

She lays awake the whole night replaying the kiss over and over and over in her head. How she’d reacted to it, how Tedros had felt against her, how the whole thing had felt absolutely… perfect.

Agatha cringes at herself, how mushy her feelings are and how little control she has over them.

She knows it must show because Kiko looks her up and down at breakfast, raising an eyebrow in question. Nicola wordlessly motions at Agatha’s eyebags and the raven-haired princess just glares out at her from under her brows.

She barely stays awake during their morning classes but lunch wakes her right up. Adrenaline ramping up when she sees that familiar head of golden hair.

Agatha watches Sophie laugh as another Never trips getting their lunch pail, spilling the contents all over themselves in a theatrical display of film-worthy trash comedy. Sophie’s laugh is scornful and Tedros has the smallest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth from where he stands next to her.

Ravan and Hort’s malicious laughter echoes Sophie’s and Agatha finds herself hating the way Sophie has changed. Not even trying to be good anymore. She’s still the same Sophie otherwise, but Agatha feels like the blonde witch is still trying to prove something to Tedros, like it was his approval she needed.

Agatha did not want to delve into the fact that Tedros looked alarmingly similar to Sophie’s father. A father whose approval Sophie had yearned for as long as Agatha had known her. That would open a can full of worms that Agatha doesn’t want to even glance into.

She had to get it into Sophie’s head that she was perfect the way she was. And she had to tell Tedros to stay away from Sophie. Just because they had kissed, Agatha’s neck rashes red at the thought, didn’t mean she was going to cut him any slack.

His reaction to her the day before had been like a shot of pure lightning into her veins. And if she had that sort of influence over him, Agatha was going to use it.

With that thought in mind she marches over to the Never side of the clearing and stops in front of Tedros, ignoring the rest of his clique flanking him. Hort and Ravan are standing beside him like the Evil equivalent of bodyguards. Although both of them would both kill the person who compared them to anything of the sort.

Sophie has gotten closer to Tedros and Agatha has the sense that it has something to do with her. The blonde witch is nestled under Tedros’ arm, green eyes peering at Agatha from under long lashes, darkened to perfection.

Agatha’s going to ask Sophie about what she’s thinking, playing with Nicola and sticking to Tedros all the same. She knows that Nicola’s feelings are pure (no matter how much the curly-haired girl tries to deny it), and even if Sophie’s her best friend, Agatha wouldn’t let her hurt Nicola.

Agatha gives Tedros a pointed stare and he just laughs before shouldering his way past Ravan and throwing an arm over her shoulder, leading them nearer to the edge of the blue forest.

“Teddy?” Sophie calls after them, the displeasure clear in her voice.

“This’ll just be a moment,” he says over his shoulder, offering a conspiratorial grin to Agatha afterwards, blue eyes glinting like sapphires under his curls.

As soon as they’re out of earshot Agatha violently shakes Tedros’ arm off her, glaring at him as she does so and hoping her indignation is coming well across.

It doesn’t seem to bother him because Tedros just laughs again, boyish charm making its way to the forefront and almost melting Agatha’s current hostility, almost.

“You look even worse than usual. And that’s saying something.” Tedros remarks. Agatha could strangle him. Because she knows she didn’t sleep well last night. And it’s all his fault.

“Because of you–,” Agatha hisses.

“Me?”

“You and your disregard for people’s personal space!” Agatha practically shrieks.

“Woah, princess,” Tedros placates, hands in the air like Agatha’s holding him at gunpoint, “I’ll back off.”

Agatha had opened her mouth to continue her rant but stops, “Since when are you so considerate?” she asks, eyes narrowing.

Tedros shrugs and stuffs his hands in his pockets, “Not going to do anything you don’t want.”

Anything she had thought of saying goes flying out of the metaphorical window.

What was with him and his uncanny capability to render her speechless?

She’s silent before she says, so quietly she’s almost sure he doesn’t hear, “–I want it.”

But the look on his face reveals that he definitely had heard her, and that it was the best piece of news he’d gotten since becoming the #1 villain at the School for Evil. Leagues better if his delighted expression was anything to go by.

The warmth bubbling up in her stomach at the look on his face alleviates her bad mood slightly and her eyes involuntarily crinkle at the edges.

Agatha feels the stare of piercing green eyes on her and she tries to ignore it. Tedros does a good job of helping her when he throws an arm over her shoulder once again, the heat of his skin practically burning through the thin pink fabric of her dress.

He starts teasing her about something or other; this time her hair. So she criticizes his unnecessary flair for the dramatic and they’re both laughing like damn kids before Agatha really knows what’s going on.

Tedros does that a lot, robs Agatha’s awareness of time and space.

She could get used to it, Agatha thinks, as she looks up into Tedros’ eyes, finding the genuine reflection of her giddiness reflected in the blue of them.

—

From across the clearing Sophie narrows her eyes, “Look at those two, pretending to be apart yet so clearly a pair.”

Ravan groans, “I thought you’d moved on to Nicola?”

Sophie slaps him, so suddenly and without warning that Hort lets out a startled laugh of surprise.

“That’s not how it goes!” Sophie scolds, “Learn some manners!” she flips her blonde hair over her shoulder, “Teddy’s changed and so has Agatha, they’re the most important people in my life and so it’s my job to put them back on the right path.”

“How do you know what the right path is?” Ravan asks, sounding skeptical.

Sophie hits him again, albeit this time a tad more gently, “I’m the Sophie, darling. Better than Snow White and I obviously know what’s best.”

Ravan rubs his shoulder, frowning while he side-eyes Sophie, “If you say so. Just don’t get me and Hort caught up in it. The Trial is coming up soon and you’re not going to mess it up for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Sophie simpers, but her green eyes never leave Agatha and Tedros.

—

Later that day, when the sun has already set, Ravan and Tedros are arguing in their dorm room.

“Tedros, you can’t seek her out during the trial,” Ravan implores, “It’s suicide!”

“What’s suicide is not acting in my best interest.”

“Agatha isn’t it,” Ravan says, shaking his head.

“You don’t know that.”

Ravan throws his hands up in exasperation, “I know better than you right now. You’re not thinking rationally!”

“I know what I’m doing,” Tedros retorts, not looking up from where he’s polishing Excalibur.

Ravan scoffs, rolling his eyes, “What you’re doing is not being a villain.”

“If being a villain means cutting off your nose to spite your face, then I’m not. Doesn’t make me a hero either.”

“Protecting her is awful hero-like,” Hort says from his place in the corner. He hadn’t said anything since the argument started, those his first words since Ravan confronted Tedros.

Tedros growls, “I’m not protecting her for her. I’m keeping her alive for me.”

“You keep telling yourself that,” Ravan says, rolling his eyes again, “I give up. Come on, Hort. Let’s go.”

Tedros' face is blank as the two other boys leave the room, but his form is tense. Right before they’re gone Hort stops in the doorway.

“You two won’t get any special treatment from us.”

Tedros nods, expressionless, “I know.”

Hort nods once and turns away, closing the door behind himself.

Chapter Text

The kiss feels so good and Tedros moans into it, legs wrapping tighter around Edgar’s waist, books digging into his back from the bookshelves.

“Mmm, heard the prince of Camelot was a prude,” Edgar murmurs, “Glad to see I was wrong.”

“Shut up,” Tedros huffs into the other boy’s dark hair.

“Heard you were impatient and demanding too,” Edgar smirks, “That holds some truth.”

“Shut up,” Tedros hisses, “They’ll hear us if you keep being so fucking loud.”

“Noted,” Edgar breathes, taking in the other boy’s hooded eyes and the smooth skin of his chest, heaving under his unlaced shirt.

He leans in to suck a mark into the junction of Tedros’ neck and shoulder, at which the blond prince lets out an uncharacteristic gasp, hand curling into Edgar’s black hair.

“I thought you said be quiet,” Edgar simpers.

“You bastard—“

“TEDROS—“

If the shout of his name like a curse hadn’t alerted the two boys to Arthur’s presence in the library, the deafening slam of the opened doors would have.

Edgar drops Tedros like he’s been burned and Tedros has only a second to regain his balance before he meets his father’s repulsed eyes. His heart picks up the pace like it’s instinct.

Arthur stands frozen in the doorway, shock quickly transforming into murderous rage. Various dignitaries and royalty stand behind him, looking over his shoulder with equally shocked gazes, including Edgar’s parents.

Tedros only has a millisecond to assess the situation before he’s turning and running, dragging Edgar behind him.

“GET BACK HERE,” Arthur roars after him and when Tedros shows no sign of stopping, sprinting towards the nearest set of glass doors, Arthur screams after them again, so loud the whole rest of the castle must have heard him, “THE SHAME YOU’VE BROUGHT UPON THIS KINGDOM WILL NOT GO UNPUNISHED, YOU HEAR ME??”

Tedros ignores the frantic skip of his heart and continues pulling Edgar after him, tearing through the green of the garden once they’re out.

Once they’ve turned around the corner of the hedge into the peach tree fields, the hot, blinding feeling of pure, unadulterated fear registers and he sucks in a sharp breath, bending over.

Then he’s throwing up, holding onto Edgar’s arm.

“Tedros,” Edgar is brushing his hair away from his face, but Tedros barely registers the contact. From far away he hears Arthur screaming. He flinches.

Tedros wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and starts walking again, dragging Edgar with him.

Every step sends jolts of anxiety through his body, but he really has no time for all that. He needs to make sure Edgar doesn’t see what Arthur will do.

Halfway to the gardens, Edgar wraps one arm around Tedros’ waist, holding him up. Tedros doesn’t look at him, can’t, just keeps walking.

“You have to leave now,” Tedros says into the ground, “Send your parents a letter that you were homesick or something.”

“I don’t think I should leave you alone with—“

“Not an option.”

“You don’t have to be so stoic, it’s stupid.”

“And it’s stupid for you to stay,” Tedros snaps, wrenching himself away from the other boy, “Just take my advice for once and leave.”

“I could help,” Edgar offers, gaze pained and too pitying for Tedros’ taste.

“What are you gonna do, huh?” Tedros asks, expression hard, “I know what’s coming, and it’s nothing that hasn’t happened before.”

—

Of course, as usual, Tedros is wrong. The light flickering along the walls is ominous later that night as Tedros stares down his father.

“You are my worst failure.”

“I’m trying–” Tedros insists, voice weak.

“Not hard enough,” Arthur hisses, “To humiliate me like that in front of the entirety of Wood’s royalty, it’s nauseating.”

“Let me do something to make this right,” Tedros begs, voice cracking.

“Funny,” Arthur replies stepping closer, voice cold, “Unfortunately you’re as useless as your mother always was.”

Arthur is a mere stride away and Tedros is frozen stiff, back to the wall, unable to meet his father’s eyes. The older man grabs him hard by the jaw, thick fingers pressing into the vulnerable skin of Tedros’ throat. The prince’s heart flutters inside his chest like a frantic canary.

“Look at me,” comes the harsh command and Tedros is helpless to refuse, blue meets blue. “We’re implementing a new rule, Tedros,” Arthur says, a ghost of a smile stretching across his features.

Tedros pales.

“Everytime you mess up,” Arthur’s voice drops an octave, words now coming out in an ominous rumble, “You’ll receive a little something from me. But today just a taste, hmm?”

Tedros goes ten shades whiter, color flooding completely from his face, hands clammy.

Arthur reaches behind his back, slowly, gaze focused on Tedros the whole time. Tedros refuses to show any emotion. He could stay strong. He could take it.

The dagger that his father reveals is one that Tedros recognizes. Tedros had made it in one of his lessons with the castle blacksmith when he was younger. When Arthur hadn’t known.

It’s pretty.

And it’s still pretty when Arthur brings it to Tedros’ arm, thinner wrist tight in his grip.

Red blooms on tan skin like roses in sand. And it’s funny that he doesn’t register the pain at first, dissociation blurring his vision.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much did you fuck up?”

Tedros doesn’t answer, shame filling his veins like poison.

“I’d say a solid nine,” Arthur responds for him, and proceeds to give him nine more cuts, methodical, scattered across the skin of his forearms like scarlet ribbons.

Then he leaves, and as soon as the door slams shut behind him, Tedros collapses to the floor, still bleeding arm forgotten by his side. He scrunches his eyes shut, fist clenching, trying to stop the suffocating tears that want to escape his eyes.

He wouldn’t mess up again. He wouldn’t.

—

The days leading up to the trial pass by so quickly that Agatha only comes to her senses when she’s thrust into the Blue Forest, blue leaves caressing her skin before pushing her in further, into indigo shadows and sapphire boughs.

She had done quite well and ended up entering the Trial third-to-last, Tedros’ eyes on her back like a watchful tiger’s from the end of the line. He and Chaddick were set to enter last, as according to their status as leading Never and Ever.

Sophie had pulled Agatha aside the day before, painstakingly making sure no one could overhear them.

“Aggie, I’m going to need you to do something for me while you’re in there,” she whispers, green eyes serious.

“What could you possibly want, Sophie? It’s the Trial by Tale. I’m going to be pretty busy.”

Sophie shakes her head in frustration, “Please make sure Tedros doesn’t do anything stupid.”

“That’s impossible,” Agatha deadpans.

Sophie grabs her shoulders, forcing Agatha to make eye contact, “He’s been acting different lately, and I’m worried.”

“Since when have you cared about anyone other than yourself?” Agatha snorts.

“I care about you.”

Agatha’s lips thin, “I don’t know.”

“Aggie, I trust you to know what you’re doing, but Teddy is another case entirely,” Sophie throws her hands in the air in exasperation, “He can’t seem to stop doing stupid things and getting himself into dangerous situations.”

Agatha opens her mouth to respond but Sophie barrels on.

“And usually he can handle it, but there’ll be one day where he can’t,” Sophie exclaims, “Despite all that strength he makes me worry.”

Agatha raises her eyebrows, “I didn’t know you had this side to you.”

Sophie shrugs before swiftly returning to her usual persona. She flips a lock of blonde hair over her shoulder, “You should get used to it darling. You’re my favorite person in the world and I worry about you constantly despite your obvious ability to stay on top of the situation.”

Agatha’s cheeks blush pink.

“Oh, Aggie,” Sophie teases, “Maybe I should compliment you more often.”

Now, Agatha is faced with the blue, almost blackness of the Forest at night. She heads towards the tulip patch on instinct. No sooner than five minutes later sparks light up the sky. Agatha looks up in worry and curses. Nicholas and Reena’s names vanish off the scoreboard.

The signal for the entrance of the next pair rings throughout the forest. Has it been that long already? Agatha grows more nervous than she was before. Anadil and Beatrix were now in the game, neither of them holding great love for her.

—

Tedros sinks low, shifting into a crouch. He has one hand on the dagger at his hip and the other digging into the soft ground, grass wet between his fingers.

They’re an hour into the Trial and the Blue Forest is alive with the distant screams of students and the monsters that surround them. There is a faint rustle of underbrush to his right. He automatically pulls his blade, falling into a lower crouch, predatory as he observes the bushes where the sound originated from.

A figure steps out from beneath the shadows of sapphire leaves. And he notices her before she notices him.

Tedros’ stance relaxes only just, as he observes the still unknowing Agatha. Usually she was so perceptive. Tedros’ eyes glint.

She tucks a strand of raven hair behind her ear and Tedros’ heart swells inside his chest. He rises to his feet and steps into the clearing, making his presence known with a few taste words.

“Funny meeting you here, my love.”

Agatha must jump at least a foot in the air and she instantly whirls around, finger glow raised in defense. But she relaxes when she sees him and Tedros internally preens. ‘She’s comfortable around me!’ the hopeless romantic inside him squeals. Tedros wills that little voice back down.

“You scared the life out of me, oh my god,” Agatha exclaims, hand to her heart.

“It’s a talent,” Tedros shrugs.

“I can’t believe I found you,” Agatha says in relief, letting her finger glow grow dark.

At that, Tedros’ brows furrow, “You were looking for me?”

Agatha rolls her eyes, “Sophie seems convinced you’re too stupid to survive this on your own.”

Tedros frowns, mildly insulted, “When did I get this reputation?”

“You seem to radiate it,” Agatha says, offering him a teasing smile.

Tedros huffs, crossing his arms, “I don’t approve.”

“Well, I personally—“ Agatha begins but interrupts herself, going motionless and signaling for Tedros to keep quiet.

Tedros obeys, albeit reluctantly, the prince still not fond of being told what to do. But his mood changes when something becomes abundantly clear.

The woods have gone completely silent. No distant sounds of students fighting other monsters, no small animals in the underbrush. Absolutely nothing.

Agatha and Tedros subconsciously gravitate towards each other, back to back, scanning the blue trees around them with watchful eyes.

A chattering, clicking, high pitched sound erupts suddenly out of the dark blue trees in the form of a monster moving so fast towards them that neither Tedros nor Agatha can make it out and the blond Never is sweeping forward with his sword on instinct, slashing the dark shape in half before it could come any closer.

It explodes into dust but they have no reprieve. More and more of the fast-moving monsters explode like blurs from the trees, coming at them from left and right. They’re soon caught in a flurry of them, barely able to get enough air between one and the next.

“I’m glad you decided to seek me out,” Tedros laughs breathlessly, “It must be such an honor to fight alongside a real prince.”

“I’m only here because Sophie asked me to make sure you don’t die.” Agatha is able to grit out as she destroys another harpy with a well-aimed spell. Tedros laughs again, out of breath as he slices a larger monster in half with his sword.

“I don’t need protection from danger,” he destroys five assailants with one stroke of Excalibur and then turns to her, eyes flickering like blue fire, “I am the danger.”

Agatha‘s neck rashes red.

That’s not attractive. That shouldn‘t be attractive.

Ever the living contradiction, Tedros is a living flame. His body is radiating heat in waves and the area of Agatha’s wrist where Tedros’ fingers have linked them together is the warmest of all, a flash point that would only need the slightest spark to set them both aflame.

It’s over in what feels like minutes but when Agatha looks up at the sky it’s obvious that it’s been at least an hour. They’re both panting and Tedros bends over, hands on his knees.

“I forgot how much fun killing monsters was,” he huffs, still catching his breath.

Agatha scoffs, casual even though her lungs were screaming at her to suck in as much air as possible, “I always knew you were a villain at heart.”

“At least I have honor,” Tedros says, looking at her from beneath his fringe.

Agatha rolls her eyes, hands on her hips, “And kissing Sophie was what?”

He smirks and nods, rocking back on his heels, “Touché pussycat.”

“But now I’m going to have to get going,” Agatha says as she purses her lips, “We are on opposite sides after all.”

Tedros tilts his head to the side, “So why don’t you take me out?”

Agatha starts walking away, “If we’re the last two standing, I will,” she says over her shoulder.

Tedros’ heart skips a beat as he watches her disappear into the navy shadow of the Blue forest.

He hopes for his sake it doesn’t come to that, because fighting her now is seeming more and more impossible.

—

It’s another hour and a half later, and Tedros is wading through the stream towards the pumpkin patch, cursing the wetness of his socks and the lack of a bridge or at least stepping stones to avoid the freezing water.

The blue forest sparkles sapphire and aquamarine around him, and Tedros would have found it pretty if not for other things on his mind.

Like where the hell Agatha was. Even though that wasn’t his concern. Obviously.

He’s just made it to the other side of the stream when a panicked scream breaks the sudden silence of the Blue Forest.

A wave of distress floods through his chest like lava into cracked earth and he curses Agatha’s existence once more.

“Shit,” he growls, pushing through the underbrush and breaking into a run. Right towards the tulip fields, “Shit,” he says again, running faster, wet boots making unmistakable prints behind him to mark his path.

Sparks light up the sky above the blue forest and Tedros risks a glance upwards. Vex and Brone’s names disappear off the scoreboard. He heaves a sigh of relief and winces automatically afterwards.

Since when did he start cheering against his own side?

The shriek tears through the silence again, this time edging into a pained scream and Tedros’ heart clenches because it’s unmistakable.

Agatha was in trouble.

Chapter Text

Tedros tears through the forest with a frantic sort of desperation. This desperation slowly but surely transforms into an almost all-encompassing rage at whoever had dared to pull those sounds from Agatha’s throat.

The branches and leaves of the trees give way to his sword like easily broken porcelain, and he gives little care to sticking to the well-known paths, instead choosing the most direct way to Agatha, her presence like a rope pulling him closer and closer.

He pushes through the last shield of leaves and it only lasts a second to take in the scene before him.

His blood boils.

Three Nevers who he cannot identify have Agatha tied up unforgivingly tight against a tree. Her wrists have been pulled up above her head by thorny vines and a trickle of blood slides down her forearm from where the bonds are digging into her skin.

Her face is scrunched up in pain, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes like twin streams, cutting clear paths down the dirt on her face. When she sees him she lets out a startled gasp. Her chest heaves and he notices her dress has been torn from bodice to waist.

Tedros’ vision turns red.

He must growl out loud because the Nevers startle and whirl around to see Tedros stalking forward, sword already covered in blood. Tedros can’t even remember who’s it was. It didn’t matter.

They seem to think that because there’s three of them that means Tedros is outnumbered. The blond prince grins viciously.

He slashes forward in a brutal display of speed, the world a blur around him save for two clear points. Agatha…and the people he would be dismembering, piece by bloody piece.

Tedros whirls through them like a tornado, blood sprays because they don’t move fast enough. All three stumble back and let out mirroring cries of pain, and Tedros takes the opportunity to rush forward, taking Agatha's face into his hands and pressing their foreheads together, her ragged breaths making his heart constrict like he’s fallen ill.

“Stay here,” he whispers into her parted lips, their mouths just a hairbreadth away, “And keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart.”

He quickly cuts through all her bonds and spins around for round two.

The Nevers have a better recovery time than he thought for they are already advancing, menacing grins half-hidden beneath their hoods.

The four of them stay still at first, sizing each other up. But Tedros doesn’t have the patience to wait any longer.

He stalks forward, this time opting for brute strength as he swings his sword down so hard that he breaks through the shield that the middle one had held up in front of him.

All three sets of eyes go wide in terrified shock.

“Tedros, I can help!” comes a weak cry. He hears a couple stumbling steps on the grass behind him and Tedros thrusts out an arm.

“Agatha, stay back,” Tedros orders.

“Give me a sword!” Agatha insists, but that's when the middle Never attacks for real.

He swings at Tedros in a four-stroke pattern, lightning-fast. Tedros parries, then answers with a riposte, jabbing his sword inside his guard. The Never brings his sword up and disengages, stepping strategically away. Tedros can see the other two circling around him from the corner of his eye. For a moment it's like the fight hasn’t started. They’re static again, sizing each other up once more.

Then the second Never attacks from behind and Tedros only notices because the glint of steel reflects in Agatha’s wide eyes. Her now freed hands are clenched in the bark of the tree behind her, she’s still trembling.

He spins around just in time, steel clashing against steel. But the other Never is weak, and with one flick his rusted sword is flying out of his hands and Tedros is running him through.

He feels no regret as the life drains from the other Never’s pale face. He has no time for regret because he’s spinning around again, meeting the middle and third Neverboy in an explosion of sparks that rains down around them as their weapons meet.

Tedros speeds up, needing the fight to be over, rage and hatred fueling his movements.

They seem to think there’s still an advantage of two to one. They seem to think about attacking first.

But Tedros does it quicker. He slashes at the first boy’s shoulder, so fast he doesn’t catch the blade in time. Blood sprays across Tedros’ face and he fights the urge to pull the blade from flesh and instead drives it in deeper, and he knows he’s drenched in red.

The other Never’s wail of pain is infuriatingly loud, and Tedros wonders again who's in earshot. Every second Agatha is out of his reach has his blood pressure ramping up another 5 points.

He remembers suddenly that they must be the last ones in the forest, but it’s only a small relief because one enemy is still standing.

That enemy is moving forward with enraged intent, most likely angry that Tedros had killed his two buddies. Unfortunately for him, his rage is nothing compared to Tedros’.

Tedros doesn’t even give him time to think.

The Neverboy gives a yelp as Tedros’ blade misses him by a hair. Don’t like me so much one on one, do you? Tedros thinks savagely, and presses home the advantage. He’d almost had him that time. Just give me one more opening like that…

And like a dream, he does. The hooded Never leaves his neck open and Tedros swings his sword in a deadly arc, and a second later the last Never’s head is rolling onto the grass like he’d just been executed.

And Tedros supposes he had.

He takes only a half of a moment to catch his breath before he goes to Agatha, falling to his knees next to her.

At some point she had slid down the trunk of the tree, for now she was sitting on the ground, her back leaned up against it.

“Are you all right?” His face is grim, fierce.

“I’m okay,” Agatha says hoarsely. She falls forward into his embrace, head slumped on Tedros’ muscled shoulder. Now she’s facing one of the dead Neverboys, blood and tissue on the ground. He doesn’t look human anymore.

“Grab my arm.” Tedros takes a quick look at the sky above the tulip fields.

Dawn was almost breaking.

Agatha feels like staying where she is, but she uses her skinned and battered hands to grab Tedros’ arm. His muscles flex under her fingers at the contact.

There’s no sign of others, no approaching sounds. Agatha feels like she’s in a dream, the world blurry at the edges.

“Hey,” Tedros says, bringing her attention back to him. His face is the one point of clarity while the rest of her vision is swimming. “You gotta stay with me, okay?”

“What… what did you do with them?” Agatha stammers, hating how weak she sounds but needing to know.

“They’re dead.” He’s hard, cold, frightening; but when he turns once more to meet Agatha's gaze, his expression is soft.

Tedros wraps an arm around the back of her waist and gently pulls her up into his chest and to her feet.

“It’s alright, Agatha. You’re safe.” For some reason, his words bring tears to her eyes and Agatha finds herself trembling. His warm hands remain, soothing her. It feels like the strings that she’s been starting to feel between them are growing taught, shortening and pulling them together, forcing Agatha to give in.

And that is as far as she comes to standing by herself. Tedros stays close, winding the invisible strings around them tighter together. Agatha lurches forward, tipping further into Tedros’ chest.

The tension in her stomach and the growing pain in her back dissipate. The desire to remain present loses its grip on her because this feels so much better than whatever the hell was happening outside of Tedros’ body heat.

She will deny later that she snuggled into him, his heartbeat calming her own, his warmth thawing her nerves.

—

Nicola and Kiko let out twin cries of concern when they see Agatha and Tedros emerge from the forest. The two girls pull Agatha away from Tedros and towards Professor Dovery who already has her wand out and ready.

Kiko and Nicola make her sit down and they sit on either side of Agatha, each cradling one of her bloody hands, smearing their dresses. But they don’t seem to notice.

Tedros stays a good distance away, staring at Agatha. Agatha’s gaze keeps sliding to the Never prince, then away when he catches her at it, a kind of endless tug of war between them.

Agatha allows Nicola and Kiko to fuss over her, trying not to make eye contact with anyone else.

Once the biggest wounds have been healed or taken care of, Kiko suddenly stands up and marches towards Tedros. Agatha can tell the other princess is scared because her small hands are trembling by her sides.

But when the two of them are a little less than a foot apart, the petite princess throws herself into the blond Never’s shocked arms, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. Tedros’ eyes are wide above Kiko’s head. “Tedros, I can’t tell you how thankful I am,” she says, voice tearful. “If it hadn’t been for you, I don’t even want to imagine.”

“I—…”

This is the first time Agatha has seen Tedros at a loss for words. It brings a small smile to her face, fondness bubbling up inside her like water in a stream.

Nicola stands up too, and walks over to embrace Tedros as well. The curly-haired brunette smiles tentatively up at Tedros and gives a tight squeeze. “Thank you.” His mouth opens and then closes again, looking down at her.

It’s like watching kittens confront a lion.

“I’d do anythi–” He seems to think twice about his words and clears his throat, “No problem.” He nods, looking stiff as the two princesses continue to hug him fiercely from both sides.

Kiko and Nicola look up at him like they’re seeing him for the first time.

——

In the days that follow, a story of sorts emerges. The three nameless Neverboys had gone after Agatha in the hope of eliminating an easy target. But Tedros had heard her screams and come to the rescue, killing the two Evil students before taking Agatha to safety and thus winning the title of trial winner alongside the dark-haired princess.

Tedros had supposedly eliminated the rest of the competition swiftly, and with no mercy.

Even though they had been Nevers.

The thing that had puzzled both the Good and Evil professors was that not only were the three Nevers that Tedros had killed nameless, they also weren’t registered as students.

It was almost as if they had been ghosts.

——

Agatha hasn’t been able to sleep well since the trial, her bed more uncomfortable than it had ever been, but something wakes Agatha fully from sleep that night, pulling her from restless dreams.

She drowsily blinks her eyes open and immediately notices, even through her blurry vision, that there’s a shadow crouching on her windowsill.

Agatha has her clump in one hand in a split-second, pulse racing. The figure lands on her floor like a cat and Agatha can’t hear anything else over the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears and the wind whistling outside.

She strikes a match against her wrist in haste and lights the lantern next to her bed. The orange glow washes the figure in gold.

Agatha calms only a tick, but her heartbeat picks up the pace.

Tedros is standing at the foot of her bed. And he is smiling so menacingly, like an animal getting ready to devour its prey. And then he’s in her bed before she has a chance to react.

“Can I kiss you?” Tedros asks from above her, eyes practically glowing in the dark.

Agatha barely has enough time to gasp out a “Yes–,” before those plush pink lips are on hers, hard yet soft, asking yet insistent.

“Won’t you get in trouble?” are the next words out of her mouth. Not ‘Get out!’ or ‘What the hell are you doing here?!’

Agatha is quite frankly extremely disappointed in herself. But then again, it’s hard to hold onto that disappointment when Tedros is kissing her like he wants to steal the air from her lungs.

With the way she’s gasping out he’s already succeeded.

So this is what it’s like being his, Agatha thinks dazedly to herself.

“I missed you,” Tedros whispers into her ear, his tone assertive, composed. Yet his hands are needy as they rove all across her arms and over the dip of her waist.

She lets out a breathless laugh, “I saw you two days ago.”

“And not at all yesterday or today," he counters, "That is too much for me."

——

After they kiss for what feels like hours, hours that Agatha feels like she could drown in, the two of them lay together in Agatha’s bed, the atmosphere deep and content and calm like the ocean after a storm. Only seen by the moon through the window, its silvery glow keeps them from absolute darkness.

“I love you,” Tedros says into the intimate space between them, and Agatha’s breath catches. She knows that it’s hard for him to say because his eyes are swimming with uncertainty even now. Uncertainty that she doesn’t feel the same.

“Tedros—“ she breathes. She doesn’t know how she can say it, but it seems like he reads her mind.

“Tell me?” Tedros murmurs, and it’s always so strange, hearing him speak so quietly.

It softens him, just a bit, and his edges don't feel as sharp. Agatha turns her head to the side, meeting those sky blue eyes and it feels like she’s seeing him for the first time.

“I love the way you smile when your friends succeed. I love the way you helped Hort find himself.” He pulls her even closer and Agatha had never seen him look more open than he does now. “I love the way you’ll do anything for the people you’ve decided to like.” Tedros laughs a little at that. “I love the way you protect Dot.”

Agatha pauses and looks up at him, just now noticing that their feet have tangled under the blanket and she’s pressed flush against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

“I love the way you protect me,” she whispers, “I love you.”

There's a new light in his eyes now, like the dawn after weeks of rain and his gaze sweeps over her, searing wherever it touches.

Tedros brushes a strand of inky black hair from her forehead and leans in.

This kiss is different than all their previous ones had been.