Archive of Our Own ^beta

Manon was pacing back and forth in her chamber, a board in front of her hosting her attempts at planning the impossible mission her grandmother had assigned her. 

“Wing Leader.” Asterin greets, pushing open the door, a tray of food and a cup of water in her hands.

“Second.” Manon greets, nodding and holding back the smile at her kindness.

“I brought you something to eat and drink, and my own self if you wish to bounce ideas off.” Asterin replies as she sets the tray down on the small desk in the room.

“Our Matron assigned this to me alone, go train with the others.” Manon replies with a curt nod, then pauses. “However, add an hour to the time you spend with Narene afterwards.”

Asterin bows slightly, then prepares to leave, but stalls in the doorway. “I have served you loyally for a hundred years, might I speak my mind, Wing Leader?”

Manon’s golden eyes narrow, but she motions for Asterin to continue. 

Asterin pauses, and then speaks in a rush, the words clear and concise, but close together, an unidentifiable emotion behind them. “Are we happy, Cousin? Are you truly happy with shadowing and obeying your grandmother’s endlessly dangerous wishes? I worry that you will be hurt-”

Asterin is cut off when Manon slaps her hard across the face, iron nails grazing her cheek and drawing blood. “You will speak about our Matron with respect, and will follow your coven without question.” She bites out, livid.

“I am loyal to you.” Asterin responds, head lowered but eyes meeting hers, no animosity in them, though blue blood sluggishly flows down her jaw and neck.

“Leave. Sorrel is now my second, you my third, DO NOT question the Blackbeak Matron again, nor me.” Manon spits out, and Asterin bows once more before leaving.

“Take care, Cousin.” She says quietly.

Manon sighs as she closes the door, heart aching for some unknown reason, and her eyes catch on the food and drink on the desk. 

She slowly walks over, taking a bite of the food, and despite herself, a half smile flits over her face, and she sits down, thinking over Asterin’s words. She knew she only cared, but they couldn’t afford anything other than obedience, discipline, and brutality. Yet… the answer was no. 

Manon sets the food down, hair falling around her face as she rest her face on her hand, deep in thought. 

No, she wasn’t happy. No, she didn’t want to spend the rest of her days under her grandmother’s oppressive thumb. Nor did she want to keep filling her days with task after task meant to prove her worth.

Her fingers unconsciously rubs against her red cloak, the symbol of her rightful ascension as a witch.

No. She wasn’t happy. Her Thirteen would follow her into the Darkness and back, but Mother help them, she couldn’t even see her blindness.

She sighs and stands again, going back to the board where her new task sat waiting for her. 

It was treason to think such thoughts. Enough of the childish fantasy of a world she couldn’t have, her Matron owned her, and she would serve.