An: Hiya ppls! Sorry about the long wait. I should've just dropped out of school. Who really needs an education these days anyway? Just kidding. Anyway only another 2 chapters to go I think and then the story shall be done. ENJOY! ( pssst! Review!)
A year passed slowly and without much action. Torrigan went about his duties tending to the Royal Guard and becoming a silent and sturdy wall for his family members out in the public eye, which he avoided at all costs. Even though nothing was said, everyone noticed that the lively spark in his grey eyes was gone along with the spring in his step. The lack of his usually lively conversation was noticed and missed.
He did not get any word from Sabriel other than the odd letter telling him she was alive and headed off to some part of the Kingdom where he could not be with her while she risked her life. He worried about her constantly. He constantly longed to get out of the castle, or at least be near her, able to protect her. Every night he would lock himself in his chambers and just stare at the stars and the inky sky which reminded Torrigan of her hair.
One morning Torrigan woke silently as the sun peaked out of the east and began his daily routine of his morning warm ups in the Practice Courts. Grabbing a wooden practice sword he started light with a few simple maneuvers. Slowly working up his speed and flexibility, he traded in the wooden sword for his twin steel blades and unleashed some wrath on an unfortunate straw dummy.
Finally out of breath, Torrigan collapsed in the shade of a tree and helped himself to a swig of water brought by a servant, who bowed mutely out. His eyelids hung lazily over his stormy eyes and his curly hair was unkempt. His thoughts drifted back to his boyhood, when his heart was not plagued by unrequited love. He remembered the simple joy he took in watching the Royal Guards and playing games with Rogir. With a sigh he came back to reality.
His brother no longer lived at the palace, but out on the road, becoming acquainted with his future kingdom. The letters had gradually slowed from the steady correspondence to the odd letter every few months. With every letter and every day the walls of the palace were more like bars, locking him away forever.
If Torrigan were not so lost in his miserable thoughts, he might have heard the slow dignified steps of his mother. Her eyes were glossy and shining with unshed tears. She wanted to be the first to tell her son, it just would not be right coming from anyone else, and she doubted he would believe anyone else.
"Dear heart," she cooed softy as she gently placed an elegant hand on his arm. He started at the touch and looked up at his mother. "I have news of the Abhorsen." His eyebrows shot up and his entire attention was suddenly focused on the Queen. "She's here."
"She's here! Where? When!" he shot up like an arrow, eye wide and searching the Practice Courts. "Mother, what is it? Is Sabriel alright?" a serene smile graced Queen Rachelle's soft features.
"Sabriel is with the healers right now, she has returned to us completely exhausted and in need of rest. She also had a bad run in with a Mordicant judging by the wounds. It will be close, but the healers believe her body will be well again. They say that her spirit will need healing but they do not have any specialists…" the Queen smiled to herself, "do you know any one who might be of assistance?" Before she had finished her sentence, Torrigan had raced away to the Healing Wing.
There she was….by the Charter she looked pale, even paler than normal. His blood started to boil when he saw the scarlet soaked bandages that were wrapped around her abdomen. Her long raven hair, matted with blood and dirt, was tied back in a horse tail. Dark blue and purple bruises adorned her face while a little cut over her left eye bled freely. Torrigan's temper was quickly rising, on the fringes of his vision he saw red and he could feel the berserker beast rising inside him.
"Torrigan," Sabriel said weakly.
In an instant all this rage disappeared. In a few swift strides Torrigan was by her side, enclosing her pale hand in his tanned, callused ones. He smiled bravely for her, his eyes betraying his true emotions.
"Long time no see," he joked carelessly, trying to lighten the mood, "you will be just fine Sabriel, I promise." Pressing his lips lightly to her fingers, he smiled once again and left.
"Sabriel?" Torrigan said softly as the door creaked open. He stepped into blank stone room. The only thing that could be considered decoration was the fireplace. The room has a single small bed covered in white sheets that blew softly in the breeze coming in through the tall arch shaped windows. A small wooden chair sat occupied by the fire place, its occupant wrapped in a plain white shawl. Her dark eyes were staring blankly into the flickering flames.
"Sabriel," Torrigan sighed as he stood beside her, "come outside with me, the healers say that a little fresh air would do you good. We can take a walk in the gardens that you love so much. Or perhaps by the Practice Courts as a little initiative for you to get well again. I've missed beating you at dueling," his smile disappeared once he noticed that no reaction was given, there was no fiery reply. "Come on Sabriel, please talk to me. I know we did not part well but we are still friends are we not? We could even play Knights, remember?" Still no response. "You have to talk some time! I can be just as stubborn as you!"
He left the room for a moment, only to grab a stool and then proceeded to plop it right in between Sabriel and the fire. What he did not notice was a small white cat slip in with him; a red leather collar with a tiny silver bell was fastened firmly around his fluffy white neck. He curled up luxuriously in front of the fire.
"Hello…Prince Torrigan," the cat, Mogget, said with a hint of sarcasm in the last two words. "The Abhorsen is obviously very shaken with her recent….experience…. perhaps I shall have to dig my claws into her leg to force her back into her responsibility. But then again what is it to me if the Dead rise and take over the Kingdom?"
"Charter preserve us!" Torrigan whispered as the cat finished curling up. After blinking a few times in surprise the young prince turned his attention to the silent figure in the chair. "Sabriel," he said softly, her name gently rolling off his tongue, "what happened out there? Are you alright?"
"I'm unfit to be Abhorsen…" Sabriel whispered, "I made a novice mistake and it nearly cost me my life." Her limitless eyes filled with tears of shame and self-loathing. "It was just a single Mordicant, I've defeated them before. How can I defeat anything any more? I bet the Mordicant went back to into Death for a while just to brag and now all the Dead are laughing at me." She attempted a weak joke to make herself smile but to no avail. She sighed as Torrigan knelt down to stoke the dying fire.
"Sabriel…" Torrigan began but she cut him short.
"Please Torrigan; I just need to be alone."
"You have been alone a year, now is the time to heal with a…friend." If Sabriel had noticed the hesitation she did not show it, "now, you are going to get well again and I shall be here to help you."
So every day he would come to her rooms with a new book, or maybe a bouquet of her favourite flowers. He would talk to her for hours upon hours. For the first few days she did not respond, but Torrigan would continue anyway. He would babble away about anything and everything. With each passing day, colour returned to her cheeks and the soul slowly revisited her eyes to make them sparkle again.