Author's Note: I have gotten some drabble requests from various sites recently so I have decided to post the drabbles I wrote unto this site. These are all under 1k words and don't necessarily fit together into a coherent plot. You can request a drabble by giving me a prompt in the review section or by sending me a PM/an ask on tumblr. I don't promise to get through all of them, but you might see your request written out in the future. Thank you for your continued support and I hope you enjoy!

"My mind is a dark place. You don't want to be there."

The silence was jarring as they stared at each other, both filthy, tired, and raw after the battle that had taken place not a few hours before. On request of their respective seconds, Manon and Dorian had fallen back, their safety in the future campaigns priority over the result of this skirmish. The King of Adarlan had been the first to agree, knowing that losing one battle against Erawan wasn't the end of the world…yet, but that having an important figurehead perish in it could very well be.

It had taken much more to convince Manon to fall back, her iron teeth flashing at even the mere thought of running from a fight. But between Asterin, Sorrel, Dorian and even Chaol she was eventually persuaded into backing off. Which led them both into the same path, on Abraxos and far away from the battle. Alone, only because Manon had threatened disembowelment if her sentinels even offered to have someone go with her in an effort to protect them.

Dorian stared at the fire crackling between them as the sun set to their left. He couldn't hear or smell anything, but both Manon and Abraxos stared to the north, where the battle was still going on.

Dorian sighed as he passed a hand through his messy hair. "Maybe we should get something to eat," he offered.

Abraxos was the one who looked at him, the wyvern's large body coiled around Manon like a leathery shield. The witch seemed to have not heard him. "Manon?" He tried once more.

She glanced at him, but it was a quick look. "If you're hungry go hunt."

The King pouted, crossing his arms as the temperature lowered. "Abraxos, you want to join me?"

He didn't expect the wyvern to actually do so, but the look Abraxos gave him was enough to warrant at least some level of understanding that had Dorian speaking. "Can he understand us?"

Manon blinked and her heavy gaze settled on the King again, her gold eyes glinting against the flame of the campfire. "Yes."

The direct answer surprised him, but since she was paying attention to him, Dorian figured having a conversation was better than to let their minds wander in a negative direction. "So do you tell him all your secrets?"

Abraxos lowered his head next to where Manon was seating, his large eyes closing. Dorian knew better than to believe he was sleeping. "Would you?"

Rubbing his sore neck with his hand, Dorian thought it over. "I don't think I would. My thoughts need to remain in my head."

"Bottling up emotions isn't healthy," she told him, but he could sense the tone in her voice. She didn't believe that for a second.

"My mind is a dark place. You don't want to be there, or anyone else for that matter, including Abraxos."

"Do you think you are the only one with dark thoughts, princeling?"

They stared at each other for a long moment. "No, but I think you understand what I mean."

She looked away again, toward the battle. "Do you think monsters are born or made?"

The King followed her gaze, the darkness of the night spread over the battlefield and soon it would be too dark for him to even make out the trees. "That's complicated," he answered, "Erawan was born evil, but us?" At the last word she turned to him and he met her eyes steadily. "Even at our worst, I don't think we were monsters."

"You say your mind is a dark place?" She asked with a heated look. "My life is a dark place, decades upon decades of nothing but darkness."

"That doesn't make you a monster."

The witch recoiled, her eyes narrowing. "You don't me, Dorian."

"That may be true, but from what I've gathered these past few weeks, you are anything but."

"Did you come to that conclusion before or after we bedded each other?"

His chuckle was broken and dry, but it still garnered a softening of her features. "I think," he finally said, "that even if monsters are born, they can change or be changed."

Abraxos tilted his head toward Manon, and the witch stroked his scarred head absentmindedly. "Perhaps," she whispered and they both looked up as the moon shined overhead.

Thank you for reading!