Set two years after KoA. Dorian keeps having recurring nightmares of what could have happened if he didn't succeed in getting the third wyrd key in Morath but instead became enslaved to Meave. As these dreams intensify, Dorian finds himself unable to function and to live a productive life. Can Manon help him fight these nightmares? Or will they ultimately be the end of him? Please know this story has mature themes and content, and of course, I don't own these characters and SJM is the queen of the word.

Erawan sat on throne made of bones, the bones of his fallen friends, a black-spiked crown framing his golden-blonde hair, gold eyes gleaming with hate and rage. But it was not him whom Dorian eyed. No, his sapphire eyes fell on the white-haired witch at Erawan's feet. Manon wore a paneled dress which covered very little, exposing a plunging neckline and the side of her legs. There was a chained collar around her neck…not a Valg collar though, as Dorian would know if it were.

There were black streaks down her cheek, as though she'd been crying dark kohl, and black bruises circled her wrists from when the Valk king shackled her.

Their eyes met. The gold of her eyes muted, almost unrecognizable to Dorian. There was nothing of the witch-queen he once knew, Erawan made sure of that.

Meave came around the corner then, her gown pooling at her feet as she snapped her finger to Dorian, calling his attention to her.

"Come now, husband. Don't get distracted." Her voice was venom to his ears but he did as she asked. He always did as she asked, for the Valg queen controlled him. Just like the Valg king controlled Manon.

"Sister." Erawan greeted Meave with a knowing smirk as his hand moved to Manon's shoulder before caressing from her neck to her cheek. Her lower lip trembled with fear, but the once proud wing-leader didn't move, didn't flinch. There would be consequences if she did.

Meave motioned for him to kneel to the Valg king, which Dorian did immediately. Something tugged at him, though, something Dorian hadn't felt for a long time. His magic…it roiled, uncoiling from somewhere within him, especially as his sapphire eyes met golden ones. Muted as they were, they still drove away his demons…

Dorian awoke to a sitting position, gulping down air and startling the woman who slept next to him. The blanket fell away from him to pool at his waist as he brought his hands to his head, gripping his hair as he struggled to compose himself.

He pushed the blanket aside as he brought his legs down from the bed, meaning to stand. Except warm arms wrapped around his torso, holding him and preventing him from standing. A naked chest pressed against his back before Manon buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in deeply, steadily…

Dorian's heartbeat seemed to calm then and as he remembered who he was, where he was.

I am Dorian Havilliard II, King of Adarlan. I am home in Rifthold, in my room. I am not Meave's puppet. And Manon…

Dorian held on to Manon's hands around him, gripping her tightly against him. This was real. She was real.

"I'm sorry…" He breathed out between gulps of air. He must have frightened her, again. She didn't speak and simply held him until he could turn to face her, his hand coming up to caress her cheek.

"Thank you." He said simply, knowing there wasn't anything else he could say. This was probably the tenth time he'd woken up like this, and Manon's fourth time witnessing his nightmares. They were always the same…and yet different. It was as though the nightmare continued where it left off each time. The first nightmare had been the worst by far. When Dorian and Manon had seen each other in his dream, both enslaved to their new masters, they tried to fight, to get to one another…the consequences had been atrocious for both.

With a sigh, he laid back down on the bed, wrapping an arm around Manon as she settled over his shoulder, wrapping her own hand over his chest.

"Was it the same?" She finally asked after more minutes of silence, perhaps too startled to fall asleep right away.

"It continued where it left off the last time. But it was more of the same." He said as he ran his fingers through her moon-white hair, enjoying as the strands caressed his fingers.

"You must think me so weak, for being startled like this over a dream." Why couldn't he get over this? He was sure Manon would tire of it soon and stop visiting altogether. Manon shifted, her head coming up so she could stare at him property. Bright golden eyes found his as she arched a fine brow.

"I do not think you weak." She said with honesty, making Dorian smile despite the heaviness he still felt.

"What do you think of me, Manon?" He asked with a husky voice, and hoped she allowed him the distraction his question afforded. She paused, considering before finally speaking.

"I think you're a wise ruler, despite your young age. I think you're a brave man, who is not afraid of his feelings or caring for others. You're passionate about Adarlan and having it prosper…" She rested her chin on his chest as she spoke, her fingers drawing light circles there.

"You're a formidable lover." At this, Dorian barked a laugh, hefting his head so he could stare down at her property.

"Formidable? I'm an amazing lover." He countered, eyeing the witch-queen with amusement. She smirked just so, and Dorian grinned. It was as much as an admission as he was going to get.

"You're not so bad yourself, witchling." He earned himself a pinch on the side for that remark, and pretended it hurt with a loud ouch! He attacked her then, tickling her sides as he knew she hated until they were rolling around the large bed in a mess of naked limbs. They fought to get the upper hand, trying to grab one another's wrists so the other wouldn't strike them where they knew it'd hurt-tickle the most. By now, he knew all her tickle spots, and the witch hated laughing uncontrollably at his hands.

"No!" She whaled as he pinned her down, putting all of his weight over her as his hands crept up her sides, making her spasm with laughter.

"Stop! Please!" She managed to say between bouts of giggles as she tried but failed to push him away.

"I will stop only when you admit I am the best lover you've ever had." He let go of her hands just as phantom ones took over, pinning her in place so he could appreciate her, naked…panting hard as she tried not to laugh.

"You humans and your nonsense…" Manon could have spewed fire from her eyes then, but instead she tried to control her breathing, willing her unbreakable mask into place. Dorian wiggled his fingers over her belly but didn't touch her skin, and still Manon couldn't help the bouts of spasm as she tried to angle away from him, chuckling despite her efforts.

"Fine, it's true!" She relented and Dorian let go of her only to find himself pinned beneath her in one quick flurried motion. Manon slapped his shoulder hard, with her immortal strength, causing him to ouch for real this time.

"Don't tickle me!" She was flushed red and looked beyond annoyed, her white hair cascading down her back and over her shoulders…and Dorian's eyes became heavy lidded as he watched her, enjoying as she straddled him, how her skin glistened with the moonlight coming from the window.

Slowly, tentatively…Manon bent down and brought her soft lips to brush over his. Dorian breathed her in as she kissed him again, this time his lips parting to meet her tongue, the taste of her making his skin boil with need. He cupped the nape of her neck, pressing her down towards him as they kissed with fervor and want, his body aching to be inside of her again.

Manon must have felt the same as she angled herself forward before coming down on his hardened shaft, making him grunt as her warmth enveloped him in the most intimate of ways. She paused for a second, adjusting to his fullness before setting a lazy pace, her eyes never breaking contact with his. Dorian felt mesmerized by the witch-queen, with her fluid movements, her grace…how perfect they fit together. His hands held her firmly, longingly, as he helped her down harder against him while keeping to her slowed pace. It felt…otherworldly. Wholly unreal as his eyes closed, a grunt escaping his mouth again as he felt himself coming so close to the edge of that wonderful precipice.

"Manon…" He breathed her name like a prayer to the gods, and despite his best efforts, felt himself too close now. He couldn't even hold on to her anymore, not as she drove him slowly but steadily towards the abys.

"Open your eyes." She commanded softly, and Dorian did as he was told, just in time to see as Manon bit her lower lip, her breathe ragged as she leaned forward, her hands bracing his chest. The change in angle was all he needed to tumble right off the edge of reason and pleasure, as he held her down against him, a loud hiss escaping his lips. She came with him and he had half the mind to help her enjoy the last of her pleasure before they both collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

When Dorian fell asleep, he didn't dream again.

Manon pet Abraxos after dismounting from the saddle. He nuzzled her hand and huffed into his favorite spot on the large balcony. A palace steward already waited for him with his favorite treats and Manon nodded in thanks.

As she turned, however, she came face to face unexpectedly with the Hand of the King.

"Your Majesty." He was quick to say, his lips pressed together in a slight smile. It didn't reach his eyes. Manon nodded in greeting and waited for the man to speak to her.

"I just wanted to ask you about Dorian…" He began, and Manon could tell he was struggling with what he meant to ask. But the fact that he'd approached her at all…something tugged at her. Something which made her stomach flip with dread.

"These nightmares he's been having lately. They worry me." He finally came out with it, eyeing her with an unwavering stare, his posture rigid.

"They started not long ago, and it's been a couple of years since Erowan's and Meave's defeat." He paused, his bronze gaze boring into her golden eyes. "What do you think it means?" He finally asked.

"I don't know." Manon answered truthfully.

"You're a witch. Could this be a curse? Could it be something…else?" Chaol's worry shown through his eyes, his features twisting with it.

"I'm not sure…but now that you ask." A thought occurred to Manon.

"He claims the dreams feel real." She mused out loud, going over everything he'd told her about the dreams. Chaol nodded probably having heard the same from Dorian.

"What if they are? What if…somehow…he's seeing remnants of a possible outcome from the war?" If they hadn't won the war. If Meave and Erawan had succeeded. The thought sent a chill down her spine and she could see how it did the same to Chaol.

"The guards tell me every time he wakes up screaming. I'm glad you were here last night." He nodded in gratitude. They may never be truly friends, but at least the shared one thing in common...Dorian's undying loyalty and affection. It was enough to keep them amicable.

"Yes, well…I leave today. I have to get back." She debated briefly whether she truly needed to go or not, but she knew she did.

"I understand. If you think of something…or perhaps one of the older witches, they might know something of this?" He pressed, apparently trying to employ her in figuring this out.

"Chaol. It might just be the most obvious thing." Post-war depression. A sense of guilt for surviving when others didn't. Manon herself had gone through a rather dark, ominous period, especially as she came to terms with the death of the Thirteen.

"Perhaps. But perhaps not." His eyes found hers again, and Manon nodded in agreement, agreeing to look further into it.

"I'll return in about a month." Manon surrendered the information without being asked. Dorian smiled with a lazy smirk as he approached her, his hands winding around her lower back, pulling her closer.

"I'll have to make due with myself until then." He teased as he pecked her lips, once, twice…trice. Their kiss deepened, and Manon found herself getting lost in the Kings embrace, forgetting the long ride ahead. She pulled apart, eyeing him curiously and perhaps showing more concerned than she hoped, or that Dorian appreciated.

"I'll be fine." His tone turned serious-colder, as he said this.

"If you get too bored with yourself, you could always visit." She surprised them both by saying. Up until this point, she'd never invited him over to the Wastes. His smirked returned, and she already regretted saying the words.

"We'll see." Was his only response, throwing her own infamous words back at her. She nodded in a final goodbye and mounted Abraxos. They were off instantly, flying home towards the Wastes.

More to come! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter...reviews welcomed! :)