Promise
Princess Sorrin Blackbeak-Havilliard rushed through the hallways of her father's large castle with a half-eaten cookie in one hand and a wooden practice dagger in the other. As she ran in her light blue summer dress, the five-year old glanced through the windows, catching the sight of three wyverns ready to fly on the eastern courtyard.
The witchling panted as her gold eyes took in the open doors toward the gardens and she avoided servants left and right and jumped over tables to make it just in time. Her father was already there, dressed in the usual fighting leather tunic he donned for training. His wear wasn't what caused Sorrin to frown however, it was the fact that her mother was in full flying gear, Wing Cleaver strapped to her back and Abraxos fully saddled and ready to go.
She didn't care what her parents were talking about as she bounded toward them, wisps of dark blue-black hair falling into her cherub face. "You're leaving?"
Her mother blinked, but it was her father who spoke. "Hey, sweetheart, I thought you were still eating breakfast."
Sorrin's frown deepened as she walked straight to her mother. "You're leaving?!" She repeated, louder than before.
Manon crossed her arms. "I'm needed at the Wastes-"
"No!"
Dorian cleared his throat. "Sorrin, we've talked about this, baby-"
The little girl growled, the sound reminiscent of her mother. "No! And I'm not a baby!" She didn't catch the knowing look Manon gave Dorian or his subsequent huff.
"Sorrin," her mother called and the little girl looked up at her. "I'm sorry I can't stay, but I'm needed-"
"You said you would go to my recital!" The witchling exclaimed, referring to the dance recital she had been practicing for the past few months. "If you don't go that means you lied to me!"
The few guards and courtiers walking along the courtyard turned to stare and the King and Queen shared a look. Dorian stepped back, allowing Manon to take over and the witch thought over her next words carefully. "Sorrin," she said and her daughter pouted, her dark brows coming together in an exaggerated way. "There is an emergency I need to take care of in the west. We have talked about how this can happen."
The frown turned sad and Sorrin's bottom lip trembled with barely any restraint. "You said you would go."
Manon had the decency to look apologetic. "I'm sorry, but I can't assure you I will be back by then."
"But you said-" a hiccup, "I want you to go." She had been practicing really really hard just so her mother would see her and now it had all been for nothing.
"I'm sorry," the Queen repeated. Tears fell down the witchling's face and her mother stepped closer. "I'll make it up to you, alright? We'll do something together when I get back."
"No!" She wailed, and for the first time in a long time, Sorrin threw a fit. She kicked and screamed and cried, all the while grabbing her mother's leg or edge of the cape or whatever she could get her hands on. It was not fair. It was not fair that she had done all this for her mother and she wouldn't even be there to see it.
Manon weathered the storm admirably, crossing her arms and keeping her face composed even when her daughter could put a banshee to shame. Dorian flinched, and though he wanted to comfort the little girl, he had given the reigns to his Queen.
When at last Sorrin stopped screaming, Manon offered her hand, and her witchling looked at it as she wiped her red face and shook with the sobs still forming in her throat. When it was clear that her mother wouldn't move, Sorrin took the hand, curling her palm around two of Manon's fingers, and the witch led them away, deep into the eastern gardens, away from prying eyes.
Sorrin sniffed as her mother let go and crouched down in front of her. "Look at me," she ordered, but her voice was soft. Gold eyes met an identical pair of gold and Manon fixed her daughter's hair carefully. "I know you're disappointed."
"It's not fair," Sorrin cried with a broken tone.
"You're right, it's not," her mother replied, this time using her cloak to wipe away at the snot and tears. "I was truly looking forward to watching your recital."
"You were?"
"Very much so, yes."
Sorrin swallowed as her voice steadied. "Then don't go."
Manon's face softened. "I'm sorry, love, but being Queen means having a lot of responsibilities and right now there are people that need my help."
"They do?"
The witch nodded and raised a finger to intercept more tears. "I'll tell you what-"
"What?"
Manon huffed, "don't interrupt me. You have to listen when someone talks to you. Crying won't do much when you refuse to listen."
"Alright."
"Alright," her mother repeated. "My mission, what I have to do, I will try to finish it as quickly as I can."
Sorrin's eyes lit up. "Does that mean-" When Manon gave her a look she stopped talking.
"I will try, but I can't assure you I will make it back."
"But you'll try," the little girl insisted.
"Yes."
With another sniff, Sorrin raised her hands and Manon inched forward to let the embrace happen. The witchling felt a kiss on her temple and she fought back the tears valiantly. "You promise you'll try really hard to make it?" Sorrin muttered.
Manon stroked her hair. "I promise."
The witchling inched back and brought up her hand. "Pinky promise?"
Her mother smiled and even gave a bow, raising her own hand. "Pinky promise," she whispered back.
…
"Fifteen minutes to show-time, dancers!"
Sorrin swallowed nervously, but not because she feared the stage. A few of her fellow performers flittered about, quietly cramming the last few minutes of practice before their big debut. The witchling had been dancing for close to six months now, product of when she saw a group of dancers in the castle square perform for her parents. She had been awestruck by the combination of their movements and glittering costumes and had asked her parents if she could do that too.
Her father's eyes had widened in delight and while her mother merely raised an eyebrow she'd been in a beginner's class the very next day. Because of her training with her mother and aunts, Sorrin had been praised for her flexibility and soon she was excelling in dance. This was her first show and the first time she would dance in front of her parents. Well, she thought as she peeked from around the curtain, just her father.
Disappointment came and filled her up strong and fast, to the point where she considered taking off her deer costume and going back home to her room in the stone castle.
Sorrin's teacher called up the dancers in the third routine to line up and the little girl filed up next to her peers with a pout. She breathed in and out a few times to keep the tears from falling, if only to not ruin the complicated makeup on her face.
"It's alright," she told herself, "papa is here."
And there was always a next time.
...
"I'll go now."
"There's a storm coming."
Manon looked at her Second and then toward the sky. Indeed, there was a storm on its way. Even though it was late evening, the thick gray clouds were visible against the dark of the night. Still, the Queen took it all in passively. "Abraxos has flown in worse weather."
Asterin leaned in, her musical voice lowered. "I know it's Sorrin's recital today." Manon frowned. "But none of us have eaten and the wyverns need rest."
The recital was set to begin in an hour and as of now, Manon and the sentinels with her were a good three hours out…and with this brewing storm. "Abraxos will understand," she heard herself say, "and I promised I would be there."
Asterin gave her an unreadable look, a mix between understanding and disapproval. As Queen, Manon's safety came first, but because it was Manon, Asterin wouldn't keep her back from setting off. "Be careful."
The Queen nodded and without a moment to waste bounded to Abraxos. "One more trip," she told him, "we have a promise to keep."
Abraxos stretched his wings and let out a long yawn, but as Manon strapped in and patted his neck, he sprung into the air like he had been well rested.
It took them a little over an hour to get to the outskirts of Rifthold and Abraxos nearly collapsed when they got to the wyvern stables next to the eastern gardens of the castle. Manon didn't wait to see if the stable boys had reached them, didn't take off her weapons or her cloak as she ran to the gates that led to the street in the direction of the theater.
The streets were mostly empty, but the witch still had to jump over closing vendor carts and dodge clusters of people as she ran with one goal in mind. The clock tower atop the war memorial had not sounded which meant she still had time, or so she hoped. She hadn't bothered to check the exact hour, but even if she was an hour late, she would at least catch the second half of the performance.
Gasping for breath, the Queen burst through the theater doors, scaring the staff members present and an older couple who seemed to have arrived a few seconds before her. Trying to not think about her state of dress and the fact that she needed a bath, Manon turned to the servant nearest to her.
"Take-" she held her chest and forced her heart to calm. "Take me to my seat."
The woman nodded quickly, leading her Queen toward the respective stall even though Manon figured it was the same place as the last time she'd been there. Seeing how the lights were dimming, Manon pushed past the attendant and went up the stairs to where the private booths were located. She crashed into the rope partitions, startling the guards around the royal booth before finally stumbling into her seat.
"Last call before the show, please take your seats."
Manon groaned and panted as she slumped into the chair next to Dorian and despite the mess she was in, the King only smiled widely. "You made it!"
She tried to return the smile, but she needed air first. "I promised."
Dorian asked for some water as she placed her head between her knees. "Do you think you're going to be sick?" He asked her, worry lacing his voice.
Manon closed her eyes. "Give me a minute," she muttered between huffs. When she finally straightened, there was a glass of water being held in front of her. The witch downed it in one gulp and Dorian took it from her to refill as he spoke up.
"You made it," he repeated, thoroughly impressed.
Manon cleared a second, and then a third glass before she answered. "And with time to spare it seems."
He nodded and squeezed her hand before refilling the glass one more time. When Manon turned to the show, she watched the first set of dancers file through-older girls with a bit more grace and control than she had seen Sorrin with when the little witchling asked for her to watch just the week before. After some time, Manon, finally calm and collected, kept her smile to herself as she caught the pout visible on Sorrin's face when it was her turn to dance. A pout that turned into a full blown smile when she spotted both of her parents on the dais.
Finally, the long-awaited family fic is here! I had a blast writing it, I hope you had a nice time reading it, too!
I just wanted to thank every single one of you for sticking through even when updates take longer than usual. This second-half of the year hasn't been all that nice to me and the feedback I get from this fic and the attention on tumblr really makes my days that much better. Lots of hugs and kisses.
Popusoialexandrina / Manon's Dragon – Always love any kind of review, even the short ones! Thank you!
MarijaV – Here you go haha! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Guest – I always try to mix things up with these two, I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Kargack – You're completely right that Dorian looking after/taking care of Manon is just 3
RubyAngelFire – Your description of how my writing makes you feel is the same as when I read your reviews! Always an honor to know I'm keeping them in character.
Manorian – Lucky to have gotten that name haha, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Thank you for reviewing, favoriting, following, and/or reading!
PS:I have a set of drabbles (shorter than the fics I've posted on ff so far) that I haven't posted to this site as of posting this chapter. Would you like me to post them on Wyverns and Puppies or as a separate fic collection? (I respond to PMs!)
