[Third Person Pov]
After practice with his quidditch team for tomorrow's game, Arthur was walking out from the locker rooms with Sylvia held carefully in his hands. His muscles still carried the lingering ache from the long training session, but his attention quickly drifted away from his own fatigue the moment he looked down at her. When Arthur stared at Sylvia he couldn't help but notice how despondent her expression was. Her usual bright and energetic demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced instead with a quiet sadness that immediately tugged at his heart.
Arthur adjusted his hold on her, carrying her more securely in his grip as his brows furrowed with concern. He lowered his gaze to meet her small face more clearly and spoke in a gentle voice filled with genuine worry. "What's the matter? Is something wrong? You've been awfully quiet."
Sylvia remained silent for a moment, refusing to meet his eyes. The pause stretched just long enough for Arthur's concern to deepen. He could feel something weighing heavily on her mind, yet she hesitated as if struggling to put those feelings into words.
Finally she muttered in a soft, disheartened voice, her tone barely louder than a whisper. "I…I wasn't of any help to you and you got injured."
Arthur's expression immediately softened, the firmness in his features melting away. Then his heart practically shattered when he noticed her eyes beginning to grow watery and misty with tears. The sight alone was enough to make him feel as though someone had squeezed his chest.
She began to silently cry, quietly shedding tears as small sniffles escaped her. "I couldn't do anything and just watch. I was too weak… and I hated it."
Arthur gently brought her closer to him and pressed a soft kiss against the top of her head, holding her carefully as he tried to comfort her. His voice carried warmth and reassurance as he spoke. "You aren't weak. You are simply young, and there's nothing wrong with that. Strength will come to you eventually, but you have to be patient."
"I'm sorry Papa, but you're wrong," she said stubbornly. Her misty eyes were filled with frustration, an emotion Arthur could clearly sense through the bond they shared. "How can there be nothing wrong with being weak? And I don't need strength later, I needed it before so I could keep you safe!"
Arthur couldn't help but smile warmly despite the tears that continued to fall from Sylvia's eyes. He carefully wiped them away with his fingers in a tender, patient manner. Letting out a quiet sigh, he looked down at his dragon daughter with a thoughtful and slightly weary smile.
"Well okay, perhaps you were right, I am wrong," he admitted calmly. "Weakness in any world can be considered a sin. But that's not entirely true either. The truth is that sin lies not in being weak, but rather in choosing to remain weak."
Arthur slowly ran his hand through her fur, the motion gentle and soothing as he continued speaking. "Making you cry and worry about me like this… I suppose you could say that I am also weak."
"No you're not!" Sylvia protested immediately, her voice rising with passion as she looked up at him. "Papa is the strongest there is! You managed to defeat that monster, didn't you?!"
"Not by myself," Arthur replied with a small amused smile. "And the strongest? Are you saying I could beat something like Merlin?" he asked teasingly.
"Ah… Auntie Merlin… Auntie Merlin is different," Sylvia answered awkwardly, clearly unsure how to respond to that comparison.
Arthur chuckled lightly at her reaction before shaking his head. "Tell me something," he said thoughtfully. "How can I be considered strong when I can't even reassure the people around me? The fact that you are worried for me and want to be stronger for my sake tells me that I'm still very far from being strong. By that logic, I can still be considered weak as well."
Sylvia opened her mouth as if she wanted to argue with him again, clearly ready to protest the idea, but the words failed to come out. She struggled to find the right response, her expression shifting as she tried to think of something to say. In the end she could only stare up at him, frustrated by the fact that she couldn't quite refute his reasoning.
Arthur's smile only grew warmer, the kindness in his eyes so genuine that it could have stopped anyone in their tracks had they seen it. "How about this," he said gently, his voice carrying a light and playful tone, "let's make a promise, between you and me."
"A promise?" Sylvia asked, tilting her head in confusion as she looked up at him.
"Yes, a promise between the weak," Arthur nodded as if the idea had just occurred to him. He then extended his hand and lifted his pinky finger toward her. "We'll make a pinky promise."
"What's a pinky promise?" Sylvia asked curiously, staring at Arthur's extended pinky finger with obvious interest.
Arthur raised his brow slightly before explaining, "We hook our two small fingers together and make a promise that links two individuals. It's a very serious ritual." He paused briefly before adding with a mischievous grin, "And those who fail to keep the promise get a thousand needles in the eyes."
"W-What? A thousand?!" Sylvia exclaimed in disbelief, her eyes widening in shock at the terrifying punishment he had just casually described.
Arthur wiggled his pinky teasingly in front of her. "What's the matter? Scared?" he asked with a playful smirk.
"W-What? Of course not!" Sylvia immediately protested, though the nervous tremble in her voice betrayed her bravado. "A thousand needles is nothing," she insisted stubbornly. After a brief pause she added more cautiously, "Plus all I have to do is uphold the promise, right?"
"Of course," Arthur chuckled softly. "The promise will be simple." His expression grew slightly more serious as he continued. "We'll promise that we won't be weak anymore, that we'll work hard and strive to be strong together. You'll work hard to become so strong that no dragon could ever compare to the likes of you. And I will promise to become so strong that I'll be someone reliable, someone that doesn't worry the people close to me. My strength will become something that reassures them that nothing could ever go wrong."
Sylvia's eyes sparkled with wonder as she stared at her father.
It was a beautiful promise.
Slowly she looked down at her paw before carefully extending her pinky claw. With deliberate care she hooked it around Arthur's finger. Her eyes hardened with determination as she spoke with surprising firmness.
"I want to be a strong dragon, just like you said. Stronger than mama, stronger than any old dragon king. But more than that… I want to be strong enough to keep Papa safe—No," she corrected herself, her voice growing even more resolute, "I'm going to become strong and keep Papa safe. That is my promise."
Arthur chuckled softly at her declaration before gently pressing his thumb against her other claw to complete the gesture. "And with this, the promise between the weak is sealed."
Sylvia suddenly began to giggle, the heaviness that had clouded her earlier mood finally lifting. "And if one of us breaks it we get a thousand needles in the eyes!"
Both Sylvia and Arthur burst into laughter as they continued walking through the lone corridor. Sylvia, overcome with excitement and emotion, suddenly leapt toward Arthur's neck. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug and loudly exclaimed, "I love you Papa! Let's grow stronger together!"
"I love you too, Sylvia," Arthur replied warmly.
He spun around with her in his arms before playfully tossing her up into the air and catching her again with ease. As she laughed and giggled uncontrollably, Arthur showered her face with affectionate kisses, the sound of their laughter echoing down the quiet corridor as they made their way along together.
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