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rufousnmacska · 7 years

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Child of Peace 15 - Sacrifice

Manorian adventures post EoS

Apparently, I was lying when I said this chapter would return to Dorian and Manon povs. Dorian shows up, but no Manon until the next one. It’s amazing how easy it is to completely go off course and ignore what you have planned. This whole thing was going to be 12 or 13 parts originally. Blame @itach-i and @propshophannah for feeding my manorian addiction. Or thank them, like I do :)

entire work on ao3

master list of chapters 1-14

Dorian kissed Manon’s cheek then stood back as she and Fallon climbed onto Abraxos. They’d waited until full dark for this part of the ceremony, wanting to be sure they wouldn’t be seen by any Ironteeth that might be in the area. Aven had told them their sentries had seen several small patrols, but all of the nearby Crochan settlements had been emptied and moved below ground into the Maze. Although no Ironteeth had been in this area for more than a century, the Crochans had stayed prepared, knowing they’d be discovered eventually. The nearness of the patrols had worried Manon, and she’d asked Aven to have her people keep an eye out for the Thirteen. While he trusted her confidence that Sorrel and the others would find them, Dorian couldn’t help but notice her growing concern.

Abraxos pushed off and they were away, rising quickly into the night sky. Fallon held a small ceramic jar containing Vesta’s ashes. The Blackbeak tradition favored cremation when possible, so the witch’s ashes could be given to the winds and carried home. Dorian liked the sentiment, liked it more than the human tradition of burial, which seemed so much more...confining. And not just in the literal way. The witches honored their dead by freeing them, sending them on to whatever came next in their journey. He wondered if he would even have a body after using the wyrdkeys. If so, he wanted this. This freedom. He wasn’t sure if there was anything beyond death, but he didn’t think rotting in a box in the ground lent itself to any sort of enlightened afterlife. Or, any meaningful connection to the loved ones left behind.

Catrin and Alastair approached, pulling him out of his morbid thoughts. He and Manon had been surprised to see the pair waiting for them in the wyvern cave. They’d asked if they could attend and Manon had graciously accepted. Apparently Fallon had spent most of the day with them. Dorian smiled at how much progress they’d made in such a short amount of time. It was only with two people, but it was a start.

“Thank you both for coming,” he said, shaking their hands. “I know it wasn’t possible for us to take part in your ceremonies, but please know we grieve for those you lost.” Dorian was reminded of the small bodies that they’d found with Vesta. The air around him chilled as he tried to contain his anger.

Neither of them seemed to notice it though as they thanked him and made their way back inside. Aven however... “We need to work on that Dorian.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your magic. You've been gifted with an immense amount of raw magic, but you lack training.”

Annabee’s taunt floated through his head. You might be powerful, but you’re poorly trained. He eyed Aven curiously. “Is that something you can sense with your own magic then? Annabee said something similar. Mine allows me to gauge power but not necessarily skill. Though with you,” he said with a grin, “I can’t pick up anything.”

He knew by her smile that she wasn’t going to answer the unasked question about how much magic she possessed. Instead, she nodded and said, “I am able to sense that kind of detail. You could too. With proper training.”

He tilted his head, still grinning at the little old witch. “Are you offering?”

Aven chuckled. “I suppose I could, seeing as how you are my granddaughter’s mate.”

Dorian blushed slightly. When Aven had come to get them for Vesta’s ceremony, she’d known immediately that they’d accepted the cariad bond. They’d been waiting for her and when she came in, her normal smile had turned into something brilliant. She’d placed a hand on each of their shoulders, pulling them close together. “I’m so pleased that you accepted the bond,” she’d said. Dorian had laughed, dropping his head, cheeks red. Manon had simply smiled and taken his hand. Aven then took their joined hands and said “You are bonded. I offer my love and hope to you both.” As she’d said it, she bowed her head to each of them, making Dorian wonder if it had been some sort of Crochan blessing.

Now, she said, “In truth, I was planning to offer either way.” He raised an eyebrow in question. “You both need some instruction.”

Her eyes followed some movement behind him and he glanced back, a bit surprised to see Annabee standing in the cave entrance, half hidden by the brush and cover they used to camouflage it.

Turning back to Aven, he said quietly, “I haven’t found the time to tell Manon about her. That she’s Rhiannon’s daughter. When do you plan on introducing them?”

Aven sighed. “Actually, I was hoping to get your opinion on that.” She took a minute before continuing. “We know what happened to Rhiannon. Not all of the details. But we know of Manon’s involvement.” Her face tensed. “And... I suspect the involvement of others.”

Clearly Aven knew about the Matron and her influence over Manon.

“I would imagine that Manon blames herself though.”

Dorian nodded. “Yes, she does. Despite attempts to convince her otherwise. So, Annabee knows as well?”

“As much as I do, which isn’t a lot as I said. Prophetic visions run in our family unfortunately.”

"Visions? She had a vision?” He was stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask more questions, but...

“I’d… I would rather wait until I can speak to Manon directly about this,” she said hesitantly. “Rhiannon knew what she risked by searching for Manon. Knew she wouldn’t survive. But she chose to sacrifice herself for a greater purpose...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I’m sorry Dorian but I’d rather not get into this now. I’ve said too much as it is.” Frustrated by her constant evasions, he was about to argue when she held up her hand to stop him. “Yes, Manon needs to know. But I’d like her to hear it from me. There is a lot you both need to learn.”

He was about to disagree again but he noticed the sadness in her eyes. She was trying to disguise it with another smile and it wasn’t working. Manon was his priority, but he understood how difficult this must be for Aven. And Annabee, he thought with a quick look behind him.

“And she deserves to know as well,” Aven said with a tired sigh.

“Does she blame Manon?” Dorian asked. He wanted to get this over with, but not if it meant the witchling would explode. Manon wasn’t fragile, but so many things had happened in such a short time... She wouldn’t defend her part in Rhiannon’s death under normal circumstances. But now. He wouldn’t risk letting her spiral into sadness again. She seemed always on the edge of it, regardless of her outward appearance. “I will keep them from meeting if there’s a chance it will turn ugly,” he said, giving Aven a meaningful look.

Aven frowned. “To some extent. But she mostly blames her mother for choosing to leave. And me for letting her go. And...” She paused, then said, “Her mother was my heir. Now that she is gone, Annabee must take her place. She never wanted that responsibility. I’d rather it not happen, but I can’t afford not to train her. So, she’s lost two things she loved. Not only her mother, but I’ve forced her to give up her dreams as well.”

Again, Dorian wanted to ask questions. But he knew he would get no answers. At least, not right now. He turned back to watch Annabee, his brow furrowed. The witchling was now sitting at the cave entrance. She either didn’t see him or was ignoring him. Probably the latter he thought, remembering their previous interactions. But... maybe they had more in common than either had realized.

He looked into the sky, searching for Manon and Fallon. They hadn’t told him how long they’d be airborne but he imagined they’d take their time. Both they and Abraxos had been cooped up. Any opportunity to fly would be impossible for them to resist. He turned to Aven. “Would I be able to sense if Manon was in danger? Through our bond?”

She was watching the dark sky as well. “Yes. You two may not have complete control over it yet. But your bond is very strong. That would be something you’d likely react to without thinking about it. Your magic would react.”

Feeling better about leaving, he said, “Would you mind waiting here for them? Please tell Manon I will meet them back at our rooms for dinner.”

She nodded, a curious expression on her face. Dorian turned and walked back towards the cave. Hoping to charm another witch.

Oh shit, Annabee thought, scrambling to her feet and heading back into the cave.

The King of Adarlan was heading straight towards her. And judging from the look on his face, he wanted to talk to her. She hurried inside, softly brushing her hand against Banshee’s wing as she passed. She didn’t hear him and was not going to turn around to see if he was following her. She felt stupid for running away. But she simply didn’t want to deal with him right now. She’d only come to watch the ceremony from afar. Hoping to quietly pay her respects to Fallon’s friend.

Seeing Manon again had been... difficult. Enraging actually. But she could never seem to direct all her fury at Manon. The Blackbeak may have triggered it, but Annabee’s feelings became focused elsewhere. On who she always ended up blaming. Her mother.

She shook her head, trying to stop herself from going down that dark path. Instead, she thought back to her earlier conversation with Fallon. At the dark-haired witch’s random mention of Dorian, Annabee had rolled her eyes in disdain. But Fallon had immediately defended him, then asked her why she didn’t like him. Annabee had managed to skirt the issue. She didn’t dislike him necessarily. She didn’t know him well enough to say that yet. But she didn’t like him either. She suspected that had more to do with his connection to Manon than anything directly about him. But, she was barely willing to admit that to herself, let alone anyone else.

As she turned the corner into the tunnel that led to her rooms, she heard Dorian call behind her. “Annabee! Wait!”

Shit! He was closer than she’d thought. Unless she took off in a full run, which would be too humiliating, she couldn’t avoid him. So, she stopped, clenched her fists and turned around.

Dorian was running towards her, only just managing to stop before colliding with her. He threw his hands up defensively. “Sorry! I didn’t think you’d actually stop.” He smiled.

Annabee bit back a laugh. She’d sensed the cariad bond on him and Manon the moment she’d first seen them. Was he trying to gain her favor now that he knew she was Manon’s niece? Did he really think a smile was going to make her like him?

“What do you want,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Listen, we got off to a bad start. But there’s something I’d like to talk to you about. I was just speaking to your grandmother and...” He looked around them and asked, “Is there somewhere else we can go?”

She sensed his magic with her own. Nothing had changed. Other than him being able to access it again. He was still the same - powerful yet no idea how to use it. The bond though… It had grown much stronger. That’s interesting, she thought. I wonder if they even knew about it before coming here?

For some reason, that thought made her sad. If they had not made it here to learn about their mating bond, what would have happened? The cariad bond was no guarantee for happiness. But it made the connection so much... more. The love so much stronger. Or so she’d always been told. Mate bonds were not terribly common among witches. And it certainly wasn’t necessary for a happy union. But it was something she’d not yet experienced. She wasn’t sure if she even wanted to. Her parents had been mates...

Dorian cleared his throat. Realizing she’d taken a long time without answering, she finally said, “This way.” He smiled again as she turned and headed toward her rooms. “Whatever you have to say I hope you say it quickly.”

As she opened her door, Annabee instantly regretted bringing him here. All of her birds and animals skittered around their cages when she flicked the lights on with her magic. She turned slowly, already frowning, expecting a barrage of dumb questions. Or worse, a self-satisfied smirk, as if by seeing where she lived he’d gained the upper hand.

He was smiling. But instead of a cocky grin, Dorian’s smile was one of amazement. After a moment, he walked around the large room to study each creature - the ink black crow tethered to its perch, the nest of baby rabbits huddled within a blanket, the cage full of songbirds which had just fledged.

When he reached the far end he froze. “You have an owl.” He turned back to face her, an incredulous look on his face. “Just... An owl. Sitting on a shelf.”

It wasn’t a question, but she answered him anyway. “It lost an eye. It wouldn’t survive in the wild.”

“You heal injured animals.” He continued to make his way slowly around the room.

Again, not a question. But for some reason, Annabee felt compelled to answer him. She nodded to the crow, whose damaged wing was wrapped to hold it against its body. “Only the crow is hurt.” She wouldn’t admit that healing magic was still difficult for her. “The others were orphaned. I’ll release them once they’re old enough to live on their own.”

When he stopped to look at the diagrams of wings and skeletons that she’d drawn and hung on the wall, she said angrily, “What do you want? I have things to do.”

He turned to study her. She stared right back, arms crossed, unwilling to back down, unwilling to be the first to speak or look away.

Finally, he said, “I was hoping to speak to you about your mother.”

Annabee felt as though she’d been punched in the gut, breathless and nauseous at the same time. She turned away, not wanting to see the inevitable pity, not wanting to hear someone else tell her to get over it. Not wanting him to see the tears forming in her eyes. She growled, “Get out.”

“I know you don’t like me and that’s fine. But I think we have some things in common and I-”’

“You and I are nothing alike,” she said, whirling back to face him. She didn’t give a shit if he saw her cry. Saw her hands shaking. “And you know nothing about my mother.”

His face was calm, making her want to slap it. How dare he? How dare Grandmother speak to him about her?

“You’re right. I only know she had an impossible choice. Which left you without a mother and an enormous responsibility you never asked for,” he said quietly.

Annabee glared at him. “Let me guess. You’re going to lecture me about how I need to respect her choice. How if I really loved her, I would have supported her. How I shouldn’t be so selfish. How-”

“No,” he interrupted. “I’m not telling you any of that. I think you have a right to feel angry. And in no way does that mean you don’t love her. Anyone who says that is a fool. I can’t imagine she wanted to leave you. But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel the way you do.”

She stood there, unsure of what to say. No one had ever told her she was allowed to be angry or feel betrayed. It had always come back to Rhiannon’s sacrifice. How she’d chosen to go. How the gods had guided her. How she couldn’t have turned her back on them. How Annabee just needed to understand...

“She had a vision and chose the gods over her own daughter,” she said, sitting down, suddenly deflated. She looked over at him as he sat too. “Who does that? Who does that to their own child?” She wiped her sleeve across her face. “I’m just so mad at her. She left me. I can’t even hate Manon. And believe me, I’ve tried.”

Why was she telling him this? Dorian sat there, quiet, watching her. She searched his face but found no sign of pity. He looked... angry.

“Don’t you dare excuse what Manon did,” Annabee said.

He shook his head. “I can’t,” he said simply. “She wouldn’t either. Though, I do think you need to talk to each other. There are details you both need to know.”

“Then why are you so angry?” She could feel the surge in his magic, unfocused, uncontrolled.

“I’m angry because I’m getting tired of the gods messing with people’s lives.”

Annabee frowned. “What do you care?”

His magic pulsed again. “I’ve lost one friend to the gods’ demands. Another is willing to die for them.” He paused before saying, “I think your mother and I have been forced into similar situations.”

She knew what he was referring to. The keys. But Grandmother had not given her the details of the prophecy yet. “You’ve already decided,” she said quietly. He didn’t seem surprised by her understanding.

“Impossible choice,” he said with a halfhearted shrug. “Do nothing and stay with those you love. But put them and countless others at risk.” His hand shot to his neck, fingers rubbing a line of white skin. When he noticed her watching, he dropped his arm and clasped his hands together on the table. But she’d felt his magic again. He was struggling to keep it under control

“Or,” he continued, his voice a little shaky, “sacrifice yourself to ensure they can live a better life. Even if it means you’ll never see them live it.”

Annabee didn’t know how to reply. He seemed sincere. Her magic was able to sense it in him. He wasn’t patronizing, wasn’t lecturing her on how she needed to feel. A lecture she’d heard too often.

A few moments passed then Dorian said, “But how could I possibly live with myself? How can I not risk my life if it meant evil might be defeated? I don’t want to leave her. I don’t want to leave any of my friends. But I have to try. For her. For them. Even if there’s no guarantee I’ll be successful. I have to try.”

Annabee was silent as she watched tears roll down his cheeks. She felt a pang of sorrow. For her rudeness earlier. For all of their sacrifices, past and yet to come. And then anger, for this shitty world and the demands of selfish gods.

"Listen,” he said, his voice growing harsh, but not directed towards her. “I don’t want to die. All I want to do is protect those I love. Including the people who Erawan will kill and enslave if he remains alive.” He met her eyes. “Your mother likely felt the same way. And if the gods were involved...” He trailed off. “Your grandmother told me they can’t control us. But I don’t know... I wouldn’t put it past them to do anything and everything to accomplish their goal. I’ve seen too much to believe otherwise.”

“You’re not worried about offending them?” she asked derisively.

Dorian snorted a laugh. “Fuck the gods. I’m not doing any of this for them. We just happen to want the same thing - they want to go home, and I want them to leave.”

Annabee studied him for several minutes. Again, she sensed the truth of his words and feelings through her magic. She didn’t know what to think. Everyone had tried so hard to convince her not to be angry. Catrin, her grandmother, her friends. And no one had shared in her hatred for the gods. Grandmother didn’t give them much agency, true. But she was never willing to cross the line into contempt and disrespect.

Dorian stood and walked over to the crow. “Will it fly again?”

She joined him by the cage. “Yes. I had to bind the wing so he wouldn’t make the injury worse.” The dark bird tilted its head and released a loud, shrill CAW that made Dorian jump back. Annabee burst out laughing.

“You flinched too,” he said, a small smile forming on his lips.

Still laughing, she said, “Maybe. But you almost fell on your ass.”

Dorian turned to look at her. “So this is what you have to give up to become your grandmother’s heir?”

The smile dropped from her face. He might not be as bad as she’d thought, but it still annoyed her that he seemed to understand her so well. Finally, she said, “Yes. I’m not allowed to take any more in because I won’t have time for them.

He nodded. “I never really wanted to be king,” he said, turning back to the crow. “I enjoyed the privilege of my position while I was growing up. And there were things I wanted to change. But I never wanted the responsibility. Not really.”

“What happened?” she asked. “What changed?”

She noticed a shadow of pain cross his face before he smiled. “That would require more time to answer than we have right now. Let’s just say I was given an impossible choice. Several of them actually. And, I chose my friends.” He turned to face her. “I chose my people. I chose Manon.” He looked away. “That… especially that last one...,” he said, softly tapping the cage. “It doesn’t make my choice easy. But it’s the right one. And ultimately, I am doing it for them.” Meeting her eyes again, he said, “Not to them. I can’t speak for your mother Annabee. But as someone who is basically facing the same decision... It’s for them. And it’s because I love them. I know it doesn’t make it less painful. But, I think it is an important distinction.”

Annabee watched the crow shift back and forth on its perch. She needed to feed him. And the others. Reaching under its cage, she scooped some seeds and nuts from a container. Dorian watched it eat as she went around the room to feed and water the other animals. The songbirds can be released soon, she thought. The rabbits and squirrels would take longer. And the crow. She might be able to draw out how long the fox kit stayed.

She didn’t want to dwell on all that he’d said. All that he’d shared with her. But there was no ignoring it. He’d assumed her relationship with her mother was a loving one. And he’d been right. After they’d lost her father, she and her mother had been almost inseparable. Funny, she thought, feeling anything but amused. Maybe if we’d hated each other her death wouldn’t have mattered. The harshness of the words made her stop, guilt washing over her. Dorian looked up but he didn’t say anything, turning his attention back to the crow.

Annabee wiped away a few tears then went back to her work. She knew her mother loved her. Knew she really hadn’t had a choice. But it still hurt. She laughed a little to herself as she walked back towards Dorian. He was the first one to make her feel as though the hurt and anger were normal, acceptable. Allowed. It would take time for them to fade - she doubted they’d go away completely. But having someone tell her it was ok to feel the way she did eased the pain a little bit.

When she finished, she turned to Dorian and asked, “What did you want to be? Instead of a king?”

A wide smile spread across his face. Annabee couldn’t help but return it. “I always wanted to be a writer,” he said. “Adventure stories. With lots of drama and romance. The crazier the better.”

She laughed then asked, “Has Grandmother shown you the library we have at this end of the Maze? It’s not as extensive as the northern ones.” She shrugged. “But it’s not bad.”

“Libraries? Plural. You have libraries here?”

The expression on his face - a mix of disbelief and joy, with just a hint of outrage that he hadn’t been told about them. It made her laugh even harder. “Wow. Ok,” she said, moving him towards her door. “I can show you where it’s at but it’s in the opposite direction of your rooms. And,” she stopped walking, “it’s in a more populated area. So... it’s probably better for Grandmother to show you. Another time,” she said, apologetically.

His eyes were still wide but he understood. “That makes sense. And if I saw it I’d probably spend the night there.”

Annabee arched an eyebrow. “Really? After learning you have a cariad mate you’d spend the night reading?” She shook her head.

Dorian stood a little straighter, blushing. “I’m not talking about that with you. How old are you anyway?”

She grinned. “I’m older than you are.”

He rolled his eyes. “But what’s the equivalent in human years? You’re like a kid.”

Her grin disappeared and she glared at him. “I’m not a witchling. I’m...,” she paused, figuring out the numbers in her head. “If I were human I’d be in my early twenties. But really, it’s pointless. Witches are so long lived it’s stupid to compare.”

“I’m still not discussing that with you,” he said, turning to leave.

She laughed. “I didn’t want to discuss it. I was simply pointing out that most new mates wouldn’t be thinking about books.” He was already out the door, his hands against his ears. What a dork, she thought, still laughing. “I'll be sure to mention it again though,” she called out. “I promise!”

Before he turned from her hallway, Dorian looked back and pointed at her. “I’m not above getting your grandmother involved.” Then he disappeared around the corner.

Shit, Annabee thought, turning back into her rooms, still smiling. She’d wanted to hate the Blackbeaks and the King. Fallon had somehow slipped through her defenses. And that had just opened them up to Dorian. And what of Manon? She couldn’t bring herself to hate Manon. But she didn’t think she could ever like her. I didn’t plan on liking him though, she thought with a sigh. Or Fallon.

She sat down at her table and stared at the books stacked there. She clicked her tongue and her owl flew over, landing on the table. He waddled over to her arm and climbed up to perch on her shoulder. Pushing the heavy, boring volumes away, she took out her sketchbook and reached for her pastels, trying to figure out which pigments she could combine to make a green that might come close to matching Fallon’s eyes.

When Dorian returned to the wyvern cave, he checked to see if Abraxos was back. He wasn’t, but Aven was now sitting at the cave entrance.

“Any sign of them?” he asked. He tried not to sound worried.

“They returned shortly after you left actually,” she said, standing to meet him. “But they forgot to hunt for the wyverns’ dinner. They may be a little while yet.” She laughed. “That little wyvern is spoiled rotten!”

Dorian laughed in agreement. “Yes. But he’s worth it.”

“Indeed,” Aven replied. “I’d actually never heard of a chymariad bond with a wyvern before. Though,” she looked up at him and shrugged. “I’d never seen a living wyvern before.”

“They’re extremely intelligent,” he said, squinting his eyes. A small, distant shape was closing in, difficult to see since it was only a shade or two lighter than the night sky. “Here they come.”

“Shall we begin tomorrow?”

“Begin what?” he asked. “Training me in magic? Or telling Manon about Annabee?”

“Training you both in magic. And telling you both everything,” she said with a sly smile.

As Abraxos neared them, he could see a large deer grasped in his claws. Dorian glanced down at her. “I suppose it’s useless for me to ask what that means, right?”

She chuckled. “Patience Dorian. Besides,” she said, patting his shoulder and winking at him. “You’re newly mated. We have a lot of work to do so the timing is a little unfortunate. But you two deserve one night to celebrate.”

Dorian’s cheeks grew hot and he cleared his throat. There goes my defense against Annabee, he thought, Aven laughing at his discomfort.

“Don’t worry,” she said, wrapping an arm around him. She was so small she couldn’t reach the whole way around, her hand landing on his back. “I won’t tease you too much.”

Normally, he was not a shy person. But he so wanted Aven, and even Annabee, to like him. Just as he’d wanted the Thirteen and Abraxos to like him. As Abraxos landed in front of them, he caught Manon’s eyes. Her face lit up with a smile and he was flooded with warmth again. But not from embarassment. He grinned back, his heart racing, hands longing to hold her.

Still standing beside him with her arm around his waist, Aven smiled and said, “I am so very happy you found each other.”

To be continued...

#manorian #manorian fanfiction #manon blackbeak #dorian havilliard #manon x dorian #child of peace #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #empire of storms #sarah j maas #crochan witches #blackbeak witches #ironteeth witches #my writing

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