Manorian Edition

Long after the festivities were over and the guests had drifted away, Dorian found himself wandering through the wreckage of his not-so-secret second home.

Scraps of wrapping paper and torn ribbons festooned the entryway, parlor, and back halls. Dishes covered in scraps of food were piled high on every available surface. Dorian's ears still bled with the roaring of endless banter- much of it his own as he chatted idly with his friends.

In all over a hundred people trickled through the Rifthold estate for some early Yulemas celebrations- largely witches he'd met who chose to remain in Adarlan or servants of the palace who he'd befriended.

He and Manon had prepared gifts for everyone, mountains of holiday sweets, gallons of hot cocoa, and what felt like an entire farm's worth of roast meat, potatoes, and vegetables (not to mention the entire cow they'd had delivered for Abraxos to feast on in the garden). The sheer quantity of food was stunning to behold as they set up, but it was still barely enough. Just four small bundles of scented candles or samplers of Rifthold-made alcohol remained- each neatly labeled for someone who hadn't made it to the party.

Three days before Yulemas, and Dorian had already survived his third party. The first was an early feast in Terrasen to mark altogether the holiday, the first anniversary of Maeve and Erawan's defeat, and the unveiling of a monument to the Thirteen who Yielded. On its heels came a more informal gathering in the Witch Kingdom, then this party- somehow louder and more chaotic than any that preceded it. The next day he and Manon would attend Chaol and Yrene's Yulemas party, then it was back to the palace for two days of merrymaking (and drinking) before heavenly quiet returned.

Dorian loved the light and life, but five gatherings in a week took its toll.

Even though he knew one of the two servants of the house would clean up the mess in the morning, Dorian picked up a trash bag and began in the kitchen. It would be easy to just go upstairs and rest, but he wanted to do something with his own two hands. He wanted to earn it, to feel a sense of accomplishment and surprise the maids with an easier day than they were expecting.

Manon was outside getting Abraxos settled for the night, for Dorian the same easing of stress would come from a job well done (and maybe a candlelit bath with Manon later).

First, he cleared off every crumb of food or half-eaten cookie. Next, he set aside anything they might still nibble at the next day (which amounted to a plate of cheese and a few gingerbread cookies). In the parlor, he cleared all the trash with the aid of another three bags, then it was the ruins of the buffet in the dining room, and finally wisps of debris in the entrance and guest bathrooms.

With the trash taken care of, there was finally space to move dishes into the kitchen to be washed. Already he was feeling better. Methodical, tedious, repetitious- it was like training without the threat of broken bones.

He could hear Manon come in from outside, but he wasn't concerned that she would start helping. She knew what it felt like to be social-to-death, and there was no more mess in the parlor for her to clean. Manon merely kindled the fireplace, straightened up a couple of decorations, and went to change out of the loose shirt and linen pants she'd worn for the party.

Dorian stopped four times to dry the dishes building up in the drainboard, but even so he made quick work of his task. When he finally ran out of things to do and realized there was nothing left to tidy up, he smiled. The next three days of feasting and celebrations would be with Chaol and Yrene, and he was looking forward to everyone's faces as they opened their Yulemas gifts this year- especially his goddaughter Josefin, who he and Aelin had conspired to get three speckled black puppies (already potty trained, of course).

The puppies were asleep in a small heap in Dorian's study- the only room downstairs that could be closed off with a door and yet was within sight of Abraxos, who had a calming effect on the hyper puppies. He was oddly cautious of the little ones underfoot, as if he knew they were to be companions to the tiny human who loved to crawl-chase him around the yard.

He was hesitant at first about buying the ruined estate beside Chaol's. He had an entire palace to call his own already, but he wanted somewhere he and Manon could be alone during her visits. Somewhere that let him feel like a normal man, not the King of Adarlan. His two servants were the only ones allowed within the confines of the residence, everyone else who entered did so as friends (though, he'd befriended the servants as well).

It was the perfect home, no matter his initial reservations. Dorian found himself sleeping there more often than in the palace, and since he could shift and take on the form of any human, it was impossible for the poor guards Chaol sicced on him to ever keep track of their King. He could endure ruling an entire kingdom, but only if he had a place that was his own to go back to at the end of the day.

The palace belonged to the people of Adarlan, the estate to him and Manon alone.

Dorian smiled as he busied himself making twin mugs of coffee with slivers of chocolate melted in. A plate of slightly stale poppy-seed crackers (the only thing in the kitchen not holiday themed) accompanied the drinks onto a silver tray.

"Feel better?" Manon was back in the parlor by the time Dorian finished. An oversized blue robe was the only thing between her and the couch, and she'd already opened it to feel the heat of the fireplace on her bare skin.

"How could I not with a view like that?" Dorian winked as he handed Manon her mug. She pulled her arms from the sleeves of the robe and scooted over so that Dorian could sit beside her, "What about you?"

Manon sighed, "Promise me that after Chaol's party and Yulemas we won't have any celebrations for a month."

"Four months," Dorian clinked his mug against Manon's, "but then we have to celebrate Josefin's birthday and you know that will be an Erilea-wide event."

"As it should be," Yrene had saved all of their lives while Josefin was growing inside her, they both deserved to be canonized as far as Manon was concerned. "Is Josefin too young to learn how to ride a wyvern?"

"Eight months old? Yeah, just a bit too young," Dorian snorted.

"When she's three I'm having a child's saddle made for you and Abraxos, so she can at least go for rides."

"If she throws up on me, you're cleaning it off before I change back."

"Deal," Manon took Dorian's mug from him and he obediently removed his shirt before she returned it. Bargain struck, she nuzzled into his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around her naked torso and pulled her against his side. A simple comfort- to bask in the warmth of the fireplace with his lover in his arms and a mug of cocoa-coffee in his hand.

"The servants won't arrive until late tomorrow morning," Manon mused as she sipped her drink and listened to the fire crackle.

"I know."

"Chaol and Yrene aren't expecting us until early afternoon."

"I know that too," Dorian raised an eyebrow and peered down at Manon. His eyes drank in her breasts and he shifted the arm around her shoulders so that he could brush his thumb across the soft curve of one.

"Abraxos can open the outside latch on the study door if the puppies want out," it was a system they'd developed that worked better than expected.

"How bad do you think my memory is?"

"We're completely alone, and there won't be any interruptions for a long time," Manon shifted to murmur the words against his neck.

"I'm aware."

She growled, "Then take the damned hint."

"What hint?" Dorian teased. He innocently stretched- and when he settled one leg was over hers, "We're just discussing completely random things."

She only grinned as he tightened the grip his legs had on her thigh, holding her open.

"You assume a lot," Dorian nuzzled the top of Manon's head as his free hand traced lightly across her throat. When she closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her he hesitated, then flashed a wicked grin, "Don't just hint, love. Take."

Manon's smile only grew, "Well in that case- kiss me."

"That's my girl."

"Make it good," she added.

Dorian was smiling as his lips brushed against hers. The first kiss was chaste, light. Dorian's fingers traced her collarbone. He was still smiling as he kissed her again with a hint of the passion he intended to unleash. Manon shivered in the fire's heat as she felt his tongue flick across the seam of her lips, but he didn't take the offer when she parted them for him.

Instead, Dorian drifted away from Manon's mouth, disobeying her instructions already. His soft lips never left her skin as he traced along the edge of her jaw to the delicate curve of her neck.

His hand found its way to her breast, though it took Manon a while to notice. Dorian's mouth against her neck made her heart race and her breath hitch. Blush crept across her cheeks and stained her chest. She'd told him to make his kiss good, he was doing his very best to exceed expectations.

Manon moaned as he gently rolled a peaked nipple between two fingers. Her thighs clenched and she panted when his tongue found its way up along the column of her throat. Dorian nipped at her jaw before claiming her mouth once more.

She grabbed the hand on her breast and pushed it down her torso towards the apex of her thighs. Dorian didn't move, waiting to see what precisely she wanted. She broke the kiss with a shuddering breath and both of them looked down to where his hand was poised and waiting. Manon shifted her legs apart then stretched her hand out across the back of his.

Slowly, she pushed one of his fingers down until it parted her folds. Dorian took the command and gently stroked as they both watched. Manon shivered against him and closed her eyes. One hand pushed her head back while the other positioned over her mound. At the same moment, Dorian latched back onto her neck and plunged his finger deep into her.

Manon jumped and her grip on his hand tightened. Dorian kept his pace slow and measured, enjoying the whimpers and small moans that escaped her lips. She rolled her hips, grinding against the hand that kept moving even as Dorian loosed a breathy laugh.

"Was the kiss good?"

"Um-huh," Manon bit her lip at the sweet sensation building inside of her.

"What should I do now?"

"Exactly what you're doing, and don't you dare stop," she turned her head to rest her forehead against his. Dorian's was already watching her when she opened her eyes and met his heavily lidded gaze.

He just grinned and slid a second finger in.

It wasn't fair. Dorian always teased and taunted Manon. She wanted to play with him for a change- so even as she closed her eyes again and enjoyed the wondrous feeling of his palm rocking against her knot and his fingers moving inside her, she took the hand that had been holding his in place and undid the stays of his pants.

With a bit of maneuvering (and a helpful scoot from Dorian) she pulled his member free from it's prison and stroked him in time with the pulse of his fingers. He cursed soundly when she flicked the pad of her thumb across the head, and again when her nails lightly scraped along the underside of his shaft.

He was already hard when she pulled him free of his pants, but Dorian still responded to her attentions. Usually he monitored her and slowed his pace whenever he felt she was too close to release. This time though he was giving her full command, so he just enjoyed the hand that stroked him.

Manon's breath hitched as the wave began to grow. Her grip on Dorian's iron length tightened. He wanted to give in to his own desires and take the first steps towards release, but Dorian was exhausted from the party. He had only one in him, so he would save it even if it drove him mad.

She was so soft and warm inside, it was an effort to keep moving his hand and resist pouncing on her. The scent of her arousal was thick as any pine and cinnamon scent in the air, and the way the firelight illuminated her body-

"Slow down," Dorian's whisper was a broken plea. He couldn't do it, couldn't last if she continued on looking like that.

She opened her eyes and grinned viciously, "I win?" A hand pushed Dorian's out from between her legs.

"I didn't know we were competing… but yes, you win," his laugh was breathless. He was panting harder than she was, and beads of precum dripped from the head of his member. If she went on for much longer he was going to be a shivering mess.

Manon tapped his pants, "Take these off."

"What kind of position are you wanting?" Dorian asked as he unlaced his shoes and pulled his pants and underwear off in one motion. He wasn't sure if he should move from where he was seated.

"You're fine exactly where you are," as soon as his pants were off she climbed across him to straddle his hips. He let her take his length in hand and guide it to her entrance.

Now for his favorite part of their joinings- Manon bit her lip and groaned as she pushed herself down onto him. Her breath hitched and her body tensed as she stretched to accommodate the sheer size of him. He was panting and tense as well, but he loved to watch her in those first moments before her body adjusted to him.

Manon's toes were curled when she finally settled against his lap. She was as full as she could comfortably be, and she smiled as he grabbed her chin and began to kiss her once more.

"Once I've come, you can do whatever you want," she murmured against his lips. Manon was as tired as her lover, and while she didn't mind if he continued to play with her once she'd climaxed, she couldn't muster the energy to participate.

Dorian laughed, "I've only got one in me as well."

She leaned back and raised an eyebrow, "Well in that case when we're done I hereby command you to carry me upstairs and bathe me."

"As you wish," he purred.

Manon rested her hands on Dorian's chest and rolled her hips, shifting him inside her. Her toes curled at the wondrous sensation and a warm shiver licked her spine.

Dorian's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him as she began to move in earnest, rising and falling enough to take advantage of the delicious friction without having to leave his embrace. Manon dipped down and kissed him again. Her hands found their way into Dorian's hair, and she held his head in place, lest he try to lavish more attention on her neck.

She wanted to come with his mouth against hers where she could feel every sharp inhale and enjoy his desperate moans. Hearing someone as disciplined as Dorian lose control made her blood boil and her core pulse with need. A broad hand slid down to her hip, helping to lift her as she rode him.

Manon felt the need between her legs turn into something sharp-edged and all consuming. She was forced to end the kiss with Dorian, but their lips just barely touched as they panted for breath together. He was as close as she was, and Manon could feel him shake with the effort to resist his release. He was doing it for her sake, to give her a chance to finish first.

"Almost," she moaned against his mouth. Dorian responded by slamming his hips up into her against the rhythm she'd set, interrupting her control. Manon cried out and by his third thrust, he felt her walls clamp down on him as her muscles went tight and loose at the same time.

She cried out his name as he let his own control slip and began to spill himself inside of her. Dorian never stopped moving, drawing out her climax and his as long as possible. His heat mixed with hers as Manon's hands dug into his hair and chest, holding him tight as her world exploded.

Dorian was done before her, so he slid a hand between their bodes and whipped at Manon's knot until her body began to shake and she suddenly pushed back from him, breaking their contact. He slid from her in the motion and Manon laughed, even as she twitched with phantom bolts of pleasure, "Good boy."

"I always try my best," he crawled the length of her body and kissed her again. Manon's arms wrapped around his neck and he managed to work two arms beneath her torso before sitting up, dragging her along with him.

"Bath time?"

"Bath time, as my lady commanded," Dorian stood with Manon in his arms and laughed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He was glad for the empty house as he carried her out of the parlor all the way up to their private bathroom.

Manon was asleep in his arms by the time he reached the bathroom, and she didn't wake as he filled the tub and lowered her in. Dorian washed them both, smiling to himself all the while at the beautiful creature beside him.

"I love you," Manon murmured after Dorian carried her from the bathroom again, toweled dry and warmed to the bone from the bath.

"I love you too," he kissed her forehead and set her down in her place on the bed. Once Dorian was tucked into her back with an arm around her torso, he pulled up the comforter and breathed in the scent of her hair once again.

In that moment Dorian decided it didn't matter how many parties they had to endure or how many armies of people marched through their home during the festivities, he could survive it all on just the scent of his lover's hair and the warmth of her body beside him.

He couldn't imagine a more perfect life than the one fate had blessed him with.

Dorian smiled as he drifted off to sleep with the only gift he could ever wish for already wrapped in his arms.