Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Agatha was in a situation.

Well, it wasn’t exactly a situation yet.

Camelot was having their annual Fall Festival, and as per tradition, there would be an extravagant ball held at the Camelot Castle where all the leaders in all of the Woods were invited. In the previous years, only the Good kingdoms were hosted, but to strengthen the bonds between the kingdoms, every leader was welcomed to Camelot for the night of the Fall Ball.

Tedros knew Agatha hated balls, or any kind of social events, which is why he was quite nervous to tell Agatha about the tradition. He was prepared for any sort of reaction, including rages, pillow fights, and hard black clumps being thrown across the room. (Yes, the latter had actually happened before.) But what he did not expect was her response when he told her.

“Okay,” she shrugged, swinging her legs from atop the bed while finishing off her spaghetti with extra extra extra cheese. (It was one of those days). Tedros blinked. He hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “But.. but… you hate balls! And fancy dresses and crowds of people and–”

“What, do you want me to say no?” she asked calmly, licking her fork clean. Tedros gaped at her. Where had the girl from first year gone? The one that hated balls and princes and even the idea of fairy tales? But then he remembered– they had all changed throughout their fairy tale. And this change, out of all of them, might be one of the more… useful ones.

Agatha saw him staring and smirked at him. “Didn’t expect me to say yes so easily, huh?”

Tedros stammered– “I… uh… well… yeah.”

“Well, I have to get used to it, don’t I? Being Queen of Camelot and all,” Agatha grinned, putting her outrageously large bowl on the bed and stalking towards Tedros, backing him into a wall. He felt the warmth of her breath against his nose, their lips inches apart. “Besides,” Agatha whispered, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

But what Agatha did not expect was to have a creepy old man staring weirdly at her.

Chapter Text

Agatha had been minding her own business at the very large snack bar (courtesy of Tedros) after chatting with some of the Woods leaders, when she noticed the space around her was unusually void of people. Curiously, her eyes flitted from left to right, looking to see where everyone had gone.

Finally, she saw a crowd of people on the dance floor and realised there was waltz music playing. I’d better get out there and find Tedros, she thought, as it was also tradition for the King and Queen to share a dance during the Ball. Her legs quickly propelled her towards the overcrowded dance floor and she glanced around, searching for any sign of her husband. 

“Tedros?” she called uselessly, the noise of people clamouring to find partners to waltz with drowning out her voice. Suddenly, uneasiness crept down her spine as she felt someone’s gaze on the back of her neck.

Slowly turning around, she found an old, bald man that she didn’t recognise staring up and down her body. Agatha’s neck prickled; she wanted to leave, but she didn’t know where to go. Feeling uncomfortable, she started to back away, when she felt warm hands grip her waist from behind. A familiar hot, minty scent filled her nose as she tried to turn around, but a voice echoed in her ear— “Don’t bother princess. I can’t have other men staring at what’s mine.”

“Tedros,” she sighed, relaxing into his embrace. She turned around in his arms, their faces inches apart. “Want to waltz?” she grinned, trying to disguise how shaken she was.

Her husband frowned, distracted, looking at something—or rather, someone—behind her. “Who is that guy?” he asked her. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve never seen him before.” “Same here,” he said, eyes boring into the old man’s face. The creepy old guy noticed the King glaring at him and quickly scampered out the palace doors like a frightened rabbit. 

Tedros sensed uneasiness radiating off of Agatha. “Was he making you uncomfortable?” he questioned protectively. Agatha nodded, refusing to meet his eyes.

Tedros steeled. How dare anyone make his true love, his Queen, uncomfortable in their own kingdom? He tilted her chin and eyes met, sad brown to fiery blue.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said firmly, squeezing her hand before striding purposefully towards the guards lining the sides of the hall. She watched him talk to a few, seemingly commanding them. Tedros pointed at the door, and the guards nodded tightly before heading off with Tedros by their side.

Soon enough more guards appeared to guard the hall, the King behind them. He walked up to Agatha with a cocky grin, holding out a hand that she gladly accepted. Pulling her towards him, he put his hands on her waist as they swayed slowly to the music.

“What did you do?” she whispered, looking into his deep blue eyes. He let out a chuckle and pulled her closer, minty scent swirling around her like mist in the sky. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, eyes twinkling.

He held her hand and bowed deeply before swinging a strong arm around her waist and leading her to the dance floor. Holding out a hand, he turned to her and grinned. “Now, how about that waltz?”

Chapter Text

The next day, Agatha was walking through the small village near the castle, looking at the rundown stalls lining the streets and greeting small children who giggled and waved back at her. 

Looking at all of the posters stuck to the walls of the markets, she saw a man who looked oddly familiar.

“Weird…” Agatha said to herself as she stared at the poster closer. It was a wanted poster, for ‘Crimes Against the King and Queen’... Agatha’s eyes widened. She recognised the face because she had just seen it yesterday at the ball! The creepy old man’s face stared right back at her through the page. She shivered, feeling his gaze like it was yesterday again. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man in simple clothes taking down the same wanted posters that she was looking at.

“Hey, excuse me, why are you taking those down?” she asked him, walking over. Seeing the Queen, the man quickly stumbled into a rushed bow, almost dropping the papers he had stacked neatly in his hands. “Your Majesty! I - uh -it’s a pleasure to see you! Um, so, about your question, it’s the King’s orders. The posters are no longer needed,” he stuttered. 

Agatha frowned. “And why is that?” she questioned.

“The most likely cause is the criminal has been caught already and is captured in the palace jail or sent for execution. But King Tedros has banned executions of any kind after the… unfortunate events recently.”

“So the criminal has been caught?” Agatha queried. “Most likely, yes.” the man confirmed. “But it is possible that the King has called off the charges.”

“No way he would do that.” Agatha said. “Thank you for your help.”

“Why, of course your Majesty! Anything for you! If you need anything else just let me kn–” But she was already gone, black dress swishing around her like a cape as she strode towards the palace.

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩

“I saw the posters,” Agatha commented. It was evening, and the King and Queen were in their private chambers, getting ready to sleep after a long day.

“And?” Tedros grinned. “Did you like them?” Agatha sighed. “Tedros, you can’t imprison everyone who looks at me the wrong way.” “But I can,” he replied, combing his fluffy gold hair. “And I will. Anyone who makes you uncomfortable deserves to go to prison.” 

“Thanks? I’m strangely flattered.” 

“Anything for you, princess,” Tedros said, walking over to where Agatha was sitting. He kissed her hair—Agatha slapped him—he grabbed her hand and kissed it too.

Sighing, Agatha gave up and let him snatch the comb from her hand and brush her silky dark hair. After he had finished, he put the brush down and started massaging her head gently, getting all the right spots. She moaned in pleasure and leaned back into his hands, savouring his easy movements, relieving all of her pain. 

“How did you know I had a headache?” she said softly, lost in his massage. “Your right eyebrow creases, and you have this look in your eye, like… I don’t know. I just know.” 

“Wow, didn’t know you were so observant,” Agatha said dryly.

“Yes, well… when you and your wife have a history of miscommunication you learn to look for signs that don’t rely on verbal disclosure,” Tedros replied.

“Like, for example, I know when you’re happy, because your eyes shine bright like stars and the corners of your mouth turn up, like this.” He reached for her lips from behind and slightly turned the sides up, showing Agatha in the mirror and making her burst out into laughter, that throaty, hissy laugh that he adored. She grinned at him in the mirror and winked cheekily. 

“And? What else?”

“And, I know when you’re holding in your anger because your eyes glint like a sword blade and the brown in them turns fiery. Also, your pupils dilate. Like, a lot.” He put his lips to her temple and kissed her eyebrow from behind.

“And, I know when you are bored out of your mind, because you look at me with those big puppy eyes of yours and it’s like you’re saying ‘save me’,” he whispered in her ear.

“And you always do,” Agatha mumbled sleepily. “And I always will. Remember that, okay?” Tedros said firmly, but Agatha was already asleep, head resting on his shoulder.

He smiled at the sight and lifted her from her chair with ease, placing her gently on the bed and pulling the covers on her before getting in next to her. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear as he kissed her hair. “Love ya too,” she muttered. He sighed contentedly and lay back, sleep coming easily as he lay next to his beautiful wife.

Oh, how he loved Agatha.