AN: This ball chapter was inspired by my reviewers. (Thanks to all of u, I love hearing from you!) And by the song Bard Dance by Enya. Enjoy! (pSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSt: don't forget to review afterwards ;) ) Now u may enjoy!
This is ridiculous! I can't believe have to be the "royal" to watch over some snooty "young ladies" graduate from a snooty finishing school! I think I'd rather dig my own eyes out with a blunt object. Or fight a whole army of Hands! Torrigan fumed to himself as he left his mother's chambers.
He flew down the circling stone steps and nearly knocked a few servants down in the process of crossing the Great Hall. He muttered a hurried apology and slowed down. Maybe he could convince Kerrigor to switch with him. Speaking of which! That trigged his memory and changed his course.
He mulled over his position as royalty when a peculiar scent tickled his nostrils: sharp and not natural. He started, his eyes wide, absorbing his surroundings, every muscle in his body taut and alert. That was Free Magic.
Like a hound, he followed the trail to a large wooden door, ornately carved with a golden handle. Rogir's room? His brother must be in danger!! He slammed himself bodily against the door. He just hoped his best friend would be alright. Once more! Just once more and the door would give!
Torrigan tumbled into an empty bedchamber. The rich hangings that surrounded the large 4 poster bed were open. The bed was made and the washstand was impeccably clean. Torrigan cocked his head to one side in confusion. Just this morning he had been locked in combat with his brother. Where had he gone?
Sabriel resisted the urge to roll her eyes at some of her year-mates. They were twittering around the room aglow with delight. There was only one topic of conversation in the dormitories: all the handsome young men going to be there. It was sickening to even bee in the room. Glimmering fabrics caught the last glow of the sunset and the giggles could be heard throughout the college.
The Abhorsen in training left in disgust. After storming down a corridor, she calmed herself down and actually began pitying them. She prided herself on her independence. Why would your only goal in life was to be a decoration!? She could not wait until her father and herself were subduing the dead as a team.
It was a scene much like when Sabriel had first arrived at the Palace. Laughter and music drifted on the air. Colourful couples twirled gracefully. This was the dance before the official graduation ceremony. A tradition Queen Rachelle had started because it amused her. Servants were hurriedly placing steaming dishes on the long tables for the feast.
Delicate white flowers were garlanded in Sabriel's dark hair which she wore down. Her gown of midnight swirled elegantly with each step. To add a little mystery, she added her favored black half mask. For the first part of the party, at least, she wished to remain anonymous. She hummed quietly along with the gentle harp and watched her year-mates.
Torrigan sat with an air of pride on the throne. It was of course, forced. He had on his polite court mask, no sign of strain to keep his smile was shown. How much he longed to just run out of the Great Hall and find out who that mystery swordswoman was! She, along with Rogir's strange behavior, plagued his thoughts. Lost in thought, he did not even notice the head mistress of the college approach him with a graceful curtsy.
She was going on about how wonderful the Great Hall looked and how much she appreciated this gift from the Queen. She begged him to relay her most humble thanks onto his mother. She bragged endlessly of how proud she was of all her girls. What fine young ladies they had turned out to be! Only after Torrigan reassured the Head Mistress (ten times) that he would convey her gratitude to his mother, was she satisfied and left the poor prince alone.
Finally they were ready to begin the ceremony and good thing too, for Torrigan was getting hungry and impatient. Each young lady was presented a diploma as she reached the stage upon which the throne sat. Torrigan nodded and smiled as he was taught to do finding all this extremely boring. He continually thanked the Charter that this would be Rogir's task and not his, once King Corrigan passed on.
"Sabriel," this name startled a memory of his childhood. A girl he used to play with had a similar name. Her features were dull in his memory as he had not seen her since before he joined the Royal Guard. To his even greater surprise, his mystery swordswoman approached the stage. She was not extremely beautiful but there was a certain something about her that had him trapped. Whether it was her aura of power and purpose that she exuded or her subtle grace, he could not tell.
When Sabriel reached the stage, she took a deep breath and looked up at the people on the stage for the first time. She faltered when her dark eyes came in contact with a very familiar pair of grey orbs. Forcing herself on, she curtsied in front of Prince Torrigan and her Head Mistress. As quickly as she could without appearing to rush, Sabriel vanished into the crowd once more.
She scanned the masses for a sign of her father. He had told her, he would try and make it, but not to be angry if he did not. After all, he was the Abhorsen and sometimes the dead just would not stay dead. Sabriel sighed sadly. She understood of course, but her other less rational side could not help feeling a little hurt. Sweeping out through one of the arched windows and onto a balcony, her dark figure leaned itself against the railing. She needed to get out of here.
Torrigan sighed quietly to himself in relief. Though the party was not yet over, the worst part was. Now he was free to dance with whomever he chose or go and get a bit of fresh air away from the grasping Head Mistress, seeking favor with the royal family. People were disgusting at times. He needed to go out on a good adventure, just him and...Rogir perhaps! His blood started to boil excitedly at the thought of him and his hero out on their own.
He slipped out onto the balcony, backwards praying to the Charter that no one would follow. Sabriel was gazing dreamily out at the stars when she was bumped from behind. She whirled around in surprise.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the young man spluttered, "I did not know any one else was seeking peace out here."
"No, no! Do not trouble yourself, Your Highness," Sabriel added as an after thought, remembering her place. There was something irrepressibly familiar about him. "Forgive my boldness your highness," the young man flinched, "but did we not play together as children?"
"Yes!" Torrigan smiled, it was her! "I do believe so! Did you not also come to the Practice Courts this morning?" Sabriel blushed slightly at being discovered. Blush!! She never blushed before!
"It seems my charade has been discovered," she looked down guiltily, "yes, it was me whom you fought."
"It was a welcome experience." There was an awkward pause between the two old childhood playmates. Torrigan built up his courage and asked her name. She in turn asked his.
"I feel as if I should curtsy here but I fear I might break my ankle," Sabriel said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. It succeed in gaining a laugh, "My etiquette mistress always swooned whenever she saw my curtsy."
"Yet I am sure your arms mistress was quite pleased by your swordsmanship," Torrigan complimented. Good plan Torrigan, he thought, she looks lovely in the moonlight. Then he slightly shook his head to rid it of such thoughts.
"As I suspect you superiors are of yours, if I remember correctly you were sent to the Royal Guard?" Sabriel questioned, fighting down a blush.
They chatted on for what seemed like ages and yet flew by so fast. Subjects breached were literature and musical preferences. Anything and everything under the Charter was discussed. Sabriel and Torrigan felt so free, talking to the other, knowing they expected nothing from them.
Just as the bells rang, announcing the late hour, a very unexpected guest rushed into the Great Hall. His dark eyes searching like a hawk's. She was not in this room, not the one he was looking for. He quickly checked all the balconies. A ha! There she was! Talking with some young man. Ooo, he was not sure if he was ready for this.
"Father!!" Sabriel cried as she turned around, sensing a presence. She ran into his awaiting arms. How he had missed his little raven. The only problem was, that she was no longer little.
Torrigan tactfully lowered his gaze and slipped back into the Great Hall to officially end the celebration.
"There is so much I wish to fill you in on Raven wing," the Abhorsen said, "but it my wait until the morning, for I suspect it has been a long night for you." Sabriel rolled her eyes as she expressed her opinion the night's festivities. She had her father in tears before they reached his guest chamber.