Sabriel was no stranger to pain. It came with being the Abhorsen and it practically ran in her blood.
She knew pain in many forms. It was the loss of the death of her father. It was the loneliness of travel that so frequently took her from her husband and young children. It was the helplessness that came to her when she could not save a person.
Physical pain was nothing compared to these emotional pains, but it, too, had its impact on her life.
While Touchstone slept beside her, she leaned over and kissed a scar on the King's arm.
Being a former royal guard, her husband had been battle-marked before she had met him. His hands were a canvas of tiny lines, telling the story of a lifetime of sword practice.
The scars left by the first years of the Restoration had made those marks pale in comparison. Charter Stones broken with the blood of a Charter mage could only be fixed with more blood. The Great Charter Stones, which had been broken with blood from the Great Charter bloodlines, could only be mended by someone of the Royal, Abhorsen, or Clays bloodlines.
At the time, only he and Sabriel had been around for that. The amount of blood needed had been quite a bit, and she had had to be strong enough to fight the Dead, which had only left Touchstone.
Those scars now covered his forearms and filled her with the same guilt that she had felt five years ago when she had had to allow him to work without her. It had felt like she was abandoning him at the time to let him do it on his own, even though she knew that he made a good point about unnecessary blood loss in her line of work.
A knock at the bedroom door cut into her thoughts.
"Mother?"
She smiled softly as her almost four year old son came into the room.
"Sam," she said softly, trying not to wake up her husband. "Did you have a bad dream?"
The little boy scurried over to his parent, climbing up onto the bed.
"I dreamed that you were gone before my birthday party," Sameth pouted. "You won't leave before two days, will you, Mother?"
Sabriel sighed and pulled him into her arms. She kissed his forehead.
"I can't promise," she admitted, never wanting to lie to her children. "But I will do my best. I love you, Sam."
The small child sighed, an expression that seemed too old on him. He nodded and cuddled to her.
"I love you, too," he echoed. "But I really, really want you to come to my party this year."
"I really, really want to, too," the Abhorsen said, thinking about how she had missed his third birthday. "Do you want to sleep in here with us?"
The little prince nodded.
"I wanna be with you," he stated.
She tucked her son in between the still-sleeping Touchstone and herself.
"Good night, my love," she bid him.
"Night," he responded.
She watched as his breathing slowed and he drifted off.
Sabriel was no stranger to pain and, unfortunately, neither was her family...