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A cloud of dirt and rot puffed into the air as the Executioner collapsed onto her back, the monstrous form she'd taken fizzling into the ether and leaving her limp, panting, and appearing terribly small in comparison. The Lamb hovered at a distance, golden gauntlets curling around their fingers in menacing daggers. Their chest shuddered as they caught their breath. The fight itself had been no more taxing than with any other foe they'd faced in their godhood, but the hatred they'd kept locked tightly within the confines of their heart, crammed inside the dark where no one but they could see it, was splintering through in jagged, acrid cracks and sucking the breath from their lungs.
Their eyes narrowed into slits as they glowered at the Executioner's supine form. This was the monster that had turned them into the god they'd never asked to become. This was the beast that had slaughtered sheep kind, robbing them of a simple, peaceful existence. And yet... it wasn't a monster they'd found when they'd first encountered their murderer in these rotting caverns.
A curse hissed past their lips as their chest tightened in protest. They wanted to hate the Executioner. After the centuries they'd spent managing the fallen Bishops, cleaning up their messes and helping them heal for some godforsaken reason, they owed it to themself to turn that blind rage towards another. But this creature was just a pawn, one of the many tools that had lined the Bishops' arsenals. Deflating where they stood, they realized with begrudging clarity that they couldn't kill her. No, they wouldn't.
The Lamb tensed as the Executioner shifted, a low groan rising from her body. She dragged herself into a sitting position, swaying and twitching as she collected herself. Seeing no fight left within her, the Lamb's gauntlets dissipated into a cloud of black and gold, floating up to their head and reforming into the Red Crown. Their hooves clicked against the stone floor as they drew closer and paused at the Executioner's feet.
"Y-you... h-haven't killed me," she stammered, her voice a hollow murmur.
"No. I haven't." A violent shiver passed through the Executioner, and her claws raked across the stone as her hands drew into shaking fists.
"G-get on with i-it," she growled. "I know I-I deserve it! Im... ready."
She raised a hand to the base of her mask and tugged it from her snout. The Lamb stifled a gasp, their eyes going wide. The scars that mottled her arms spread to her face as well, small, discolored lines dotting her skin beneath her fur. But more startlingly were the empty sockets where eyes should have been.
Their eyes roved over her for a few silent moments, taking in the sight before them. A numb feeling settled into their chest where their hatred had reigned, leaving them hollow. It was almost funny, really. To think they could ever despise such a pathetic creature.
"No. I won't." The Executioner's head whipped up, empty sockets turned towards the approximation of the Lamb's eyes. Her lower lip trembled, a desperate, clawing despair creasing into the lines of her face.
"Wh- I don't- I-I...," she stammered, ending on a confused whine. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms beneath her legs. Shivers wracked her body, harsh gasps of air passing between her lips.
"Why? W-why are you being so n-nice to me?" The Executioner curled in on herself, teeth grinding together as wave after wave of grief and guilt crashed over her. "I killed you. I killed h-hundreds of sheep! Y-your entire species, wiped out at my hands! I-I d-d-don't..." Her voice trailed off as she hung her head, cheek pressing against her knees. The Lamb exhaled a puff of air through their nose, a humorless laugh bubbling from their lips.
"I learned to stop taking things at face value a long time ago." They kneeled down in front of her, a bitter smile playing on their lips, unseen to the canine before them. "Our deaths came at your hands, yes, but you weren't the one wielding the axe, not really. Besides," the Executioner flinched as nimble fingers brushed against her skin, a thumb tracing below the scarred flesh where her eyes had been, "I think you've lost enough already. I won't be the one to take more from you."
A choked sob tore from her chest. Without warning, the Lamb was grabbed and pulled against the Executioner's chest. They tensed, fighting the urge to pull away as she buried her face against their shoulder. After a few minutes, she quieted and loosened her grip, allowing them to stand.
"S-sorry," she whispered. Then, "Th-thank you."
The Lamb sighed softly. It was going to be a hell of an adjustment having her around. Lord knew she was going to need all the patience they could spare. But this was the right thing to do, they just knew it. They grasped ahold of one hand and pulled her upright.
"Come on, up we get." Once they were standing before each other, "I'm not going to pretend this isn't difficult for me, but I want you to know that I'm not going to hurt you. I think you could use a fresh start, and I'm happy to provide one to you, er..."
"Hagar," she supplied. "My name is Hagar." The Lamb nodded to themself, a tired smile tugging the corners of their lips. That was certainly an improvement from "The Executioner," much easier to put some distance between that old memory.
"Welcome home, Hagar." With a wave of their hand and the glow of their crown, they formed a portal beneath her feet. She sank into the ether to be teleported back to the cult. "See you soon."