***major spoilers if you haven't read the latest book!*** Set one year after Kingdom of Ash. Manon and Dorian have met in the middle. But who will be the first to cross the line? A sweet, one-shot aimed to answer this question. Please know there is sexual content in this story, and please, if you have not read the last book, please know this has major spoilers!
The first time she'd made the sweep around the castle, many started screaming and shouting as they saw her atop Abraxos. She didn't blame them, knowing how thoroughly Rifthold had been sacked by the Ironteeth just months before.
Now, when she came around, and the boom of Abraxos wings was heard circling above the stone palace, she only received solemn nods from guards posted in all the entrances, including the large balcony she uses to land. Already the city looked to be recovering, the castle itself almost back to its former state…before the Ironteeth attack…before the glass castle atop.
Before Morath.
As soon as she landed, there was a steward waiting nearby to take Abraxos to be cleaned and fed. Abraxos didn't even look her way as he was led by the young steward. Manon resisted the urge to arch a brow, but knew he was well taken care of, that he'd be fed his favorite treats. He would be spoiled and clearly, Abraxos enjoyed it.
Not sparing another thought for her most loyal companion, Manon went inside the castle itself, nodding stiffly as some of the palace emissaries and courtiers bowed to her as she went.
Her arrival should be a surprise to those within the palace. No one knew when she'd appear because she never sent word before doing so. Today was no different, and yet no one looked or seemed surprised.
Especially the young King of Adarlan as he smoothly made his way down the corridor from the opposite end, with no one by his side. He looked elegant in his dark pants and jacket, both lined with green stitching, the white shirt underneath unbuttoned at the top, revealing some of his golden skin, exposing that thin line around his neck…
His turquoise eyes never left hers as they met in the middle, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Hello witchling." He almost purred the words, and she knew he was happy to see her. His eyes gleamed with amusement, but she wasn't sure why.
"I had some business with the rukhin." She answered the unasked question, guessing that's why Dorian smiled, knowing she had a poor excuse for being back.
"I'm always happy when you have business with the rukhin." He didn't dare take that extra step towards her, the one that would close the gap between them. Manon didn't move either, understanding his amusement now.
She was becoming predictable. No one looked surprised at her arrival today because they weren't. It'd been exactly a month since her last visit. And two months before her next to last.
Manon frowned slightly but didn't bother saying anything as she moved past the king. Towards his room…his tower. Where she slept when she came to Rifthold, to visit Dorian.
Manon didn't know if she liked this yet. If she could get used to being expected.
Dorian didn't say anything as he followed after her, his hands clasped behind his back.
They'd been at this for a year now, though for the first six months, she only came twice. But now she came quite predictably, towards the end of each month. He followed after her as she made her way up the stairs to his room and wasn't at all surprised at how she pinned him against the door as soon as he'd closed it behind him.
Their lips met and soon it was him pinning the witch against the door, taking hold of her wrists and lifting them, holding them over her head.
A moan escaped her and she pushed against the door with her immortal strength and pushed him until the back of his leg hit the edge of the bed.
Gods, she tasted divine.
They tumbled onto the bed in a heap of limps and kisses, and Dorian couldn't help the smile which grazed his lips. Manon pulled away, her hand still at the button of his pants.
"What?" There was an edge to her voice, and he knew she didn't appreciate his smiling.
"I missed you, too." He smirked, knowing it would probably piss her off more, but he couldn't help it. His hand didn't stop stroking her side from under her shirt and the fact that she didn't slap it away was all the indication he needed, despite how she rolled her eyes at him. He pounced her and soon their clothes and boots were off and Dorian was inside of her.
Her moans were exquisite, her moon-white hair fanning his pillow, eyes half drawn, her hips moving with him, urging him to go faster. Dorian kept a slower pace though, before bending his head to the crook of her neck, lightly tracing kisses, nibbling her skin. Manon did not complain, did not resist his touches along her skin, his nearly paused pace as his hand squeezed her upper thigh before guiding her hips slightly upwards so he could plunge himself deeper inside of her. Another exquisite moan filled his ears, her back arching, exposing her generous, perfect and peaked breasts towards him, so he could take one of them in his mouth and lightly graze his teeth over her sensitive nipple.
Her breath caught and he knew she was oh-so-close…
He kissed her deeply, her hands coming around his back, pressing him closer to her as he continued to slowly devour her mouth while he buried himself inside of her.
He didn't stop kissing her, not as she tumbled over the edge of her pleasure, as her hips buckled beneath him, as her breath passed from her to him. He pulled away from his kiss but not from her…he wasn't done yet.
She'd come because she needed to take the edge off. She'd come because she could always count on Dorian to provide what she needed, when she needed it…how she needed it.
What she didn't except was how much she wanted this. How much she wanted him buried inside of her like this, setting the pace, taking charge. His thrusts were agonizingly slow, but they seemed to reach her very soul, and so she didn't protest. She couldn't, especially as she found herself reaching her climax so quickly.
He then flipped her over, on her belly, and was once again inside of her, except this time, from behind. This was new territory for them and at first, she wasn't sure if she could enjoy it…that is, until he lifted her hips upward just so, so she was on her knees, and had her moaning as he thrusts into her. Manon clutched the fabric of the sheets, her hands fisting, her toes curling…
One of his hands hooked around her lower belly, past the permanent scar, until it found the apex of her womanhood. Manon surrendered to the pleasure, to the painful pleasure of having the King of Adarlan take her as he willed, and didn't hold back her moans nor her iron nails as they dug into the sheets and pillows and she found the ecstasy of her new orgasm.
This time, the King came with her.
The lay next to each other, naked. He wasn't entirely holding her but his hand continued to make smooth, soothing strokes up and down her arm. He was half turned towards her while she lay on her back, staring at the beamed ceiling. She knew his gaze was on her face, knew the look he held in his eyes. Manon turned towards him, though, just because she couldn't keep herself from looking.
His turquoise eyes met hers, his face exactly as she knew it would be. Thoughtful, pensive…wanting.
Manon ran a hand through his soft, dark hair. Such a simple thing to do but oh-so intimate. He knew it, too, and didn't hesitate as he caught her hand with his lips and kissed it. A small smile grazed her lips and she tried to look away before he caught it.
He saw, though. But he didn't comment on it.
He wouldn't cross that invisible line, she knew.
And Manon was no longer sure why.
Dorian knew that if he pressed something more formal between them, Manon would not object. And yet, he didn't want to push it, push her. What they'd just done bordered on love making. And it wasn't the first time either.
The first time happened within a tent…just over a year ago now. When she'd offered more than he would have ever imagined, more than she was probably ready for, especially at that time…all because she was frightened of what could happen to him. She cared for him, then, and now…well…
Dorian would never be the number one man in her life as he knew that title belonged to Abraxos. But he wouldn't mind being number two. He knew, though, that he threaded on melting ice, and so he didn't push it. At least, he wouldn't push it out right. He could be subtle, though. Manon spoke up before he could, though, and she seemed to stump right on that thinning ice.
"I find that I don't care about the ruhkin or their wyvern. I didn't even stop by before flying here."
He smirked before rolling onto his back, though his eyes remained on her.
"Don't complain when they turn out to be big, sub-trained wyvern babies." He couldn't help teasing, despite what she offered. Honesty.
He knew she didn't find any humor in his statement.
"You don't need an excuse to come here." Dorian said quietly then, her golden eyes boring into his with such intensity, he needed to remind himself to breathe.
"I could go to the Waste, visit you as well. No excuses needed as I want to see more of you." Dorian added. She arched a brow, turning from him so she could look to the ceiling again.
"I think we would benefit from your experience." We, meaning the Crochans and the Inronteeth… or Manon's way to disguise what she really wanted to say, that she would benefit from his visits. "You know how to run a kingdom…how to negotiate with neighbors. I find that I want to kill Ansel quite often, and it's only a matter of time before one of the Inronteeth loses her temper and we find ourselves at war once again."
"I will be more than honored to be part of your council." Dorian offered with a small smile, knowing that even now she was still coming up with excuses.
"I don't have a…council. It would just be you." She clarified, her eyes once again falling to his. A smile crept into his face, one he knew drove her crazy.
"All the better." He couldn't help the deep of his voice, how his heart pounded against his chest.
"So, you would come here once a month and I would go there once a month?" Maybe he was pushing it, but he wanted to understand how she meant this to work. And that perhaps Yrene had been right, over a year ago, when she blatantly stated they should just get married so they didn't have to pretend.
"I'll be here a week and you'll be there a week." She offered, before she surprised him by finding his hand and interwinding their fingers.
"It's a sound plan. This will only keep us away from our individual courts for a week and we get to spend half the month together."
Dorian braved another intimate moment as he brushed his lips over the top of her shoulder, once again turning completely on his side. He took a deep breath, knowing there was one more question he needed to ask. One he hadn't braved himself to ask before.
He'd faced the Valg…he faced Morath and Meave, for gods sake! And yet this one question caught in his throat. He diverted, not able to face it yet, the invisible line keeping him back. So he went with whatever popped into his head first.
"I know witches have a hard time conceiving, but what happens if you miraculously become with child?"
It shouldn't be such a shocking question, especially considering they'd been having unprotected sex for over a year now. It was Manon's turn to arch an amused brow and she turned on her side as well, facing him completely.
"If it's a girl, I keep her."
"As heir, you mean." Dorian frowned, somewhat awed at how quickly she answered that question. Clearly, she'd thought about this.
"She would be High Queen of the Witch Kingdom."
"And princess of Adarlan." Dorian added before daring to place a hand on her exposed hip, tracing light circles on her soft skin there.
"I don't know of many witches who have more than one child. And Ironteeth don't bear males." She clarified, her golden eyes dancing around his face.
"So, hypothetically, if we were to have a child, and it's a girl, then I wouldn't have an heir? She wouldn't be able to rule both kingdoms?" He asked, his fingers now sliding down to her lower back.
"If it's a boy, he will be your heir." She offered in turn, not answering his questions.
"And then, you wouldn't have an heir?" He asked, and couldn't help as he chuckled.
"I'm not sure how this is relevant." She answered, and he knew her patience was growing thin on the subject.
"I could always appoint my brother's children as heir. Or perhaps Chaol's and Yrene's son. I wouldn't mind one bit having him succeed me."
Dorian didn't know how true his words were until he said them. He could live with that, he knew.
"You might very well live longer than any of Chaol's children. Your magic is powerful…I don't think you will age like mortal men." She'd thought of this too.
"Then his children's children can inherit." Dorian was quick to say.
He paused then, his hand no longer drawing circles around her back.
"What will you call me, when I'm in your keep, in the Wastes?"
And there it was…the invisible line.
Will you call me lover? Consort? Husband?
"King of Adarlan." Manon didn't bat an eye as she said this.
Dorian smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
Manon hadn't been sure where the conversation was heading. All this talk of heirs and what-ifs…things she had already thought about, it seems, as she answered his questions without a second thought.
And then he asked what she will call him.
She answered without a second thought, but knew that's not what he meant. Manon knew it, but couldn't bring herself to say what she really felt. Mostly, because she was still unsure.
Not of what she felt…but on how to say it.
"I have to go check on Abraxos." It was the only excuse she could think off to change the subject.
"He's fine." Dorian insisted, his voice sensual as he began to caress her skin again. Before long, they were kissing, the princeling ready for her once more. This time, thought, she set the pace and the rhythm, which to her surprise, she kept on the slower side…taking her time as she rode him, his hands roaming up and down her stomach, breasts, her sides…she rolled her head back as both his hands cupped her breasts, lightly tracing circles around her hardened nipples before he applied pressure down her sides as his hands moved to her hips, helping her move along…keeping her paused pace but helping her guide her strokes.
It didn't take long for her to find her release.
Manon couldn't think clearly as he laid her on the bed and continued thrusting until he found his own climax, collapsing on top of her not long after. They stayed like that for some time, Dorian draping her body with his, Manon still panting beneath him. He kissed her one final time before rolling off her and onto his back, clearly exhausted.
With a small sigh, Manon rolled off the bed and began dressing, ignoring as the King of Adarlan stared at her through half drawn eyes. He smirked but didn't say anything until she was by the door.
"That's my shirt, witchling."
Manon paused by the door, arching a brow. She didn't bother looking down to see if what he said was true.
"I know." Is all she said as she left the room to go find Abraxos.
A monument worthy of the Thirteen stood finished on the large square, where she could appreciate it from high above the castle, leaning on the ledge of the large balcony. Twelve statues made of iron, with wyvern wings wrapped around near replicas of her fallen sisters.
Manon knew what they meant to her before their sacrifice. She'd realized, through her twelve sisters, because that's what they truly were to her,…sisters… she learned the true meaning of love. Unconditional love. She hadn't known what the word meant until then. Until she chose to forfeit her own life to save Asterin, to fight her grandmother, to give them all a better world. To bring them home. She allied herself with the young, untried Queen of Terrasen, managed to convince the Crochan to join her…convinced Petrah and other Inronteeths to rebel against all they've ever known. They all joined her in battle.
Manon did this to save them.
Instead, they saved her. And the entire world.
And now they were to be celebrated in all of Erilea. From Terrasen to Adarlan, even in Eyllwe and Antica…monuments had been erected to commemorate their sacrifice. It didn't dull the ache in her chest. Of having to forge a new Kingdom without them…not having their wisdom, their insights.
Manon often found herself looking for her second and instead came face to face with Petrah or Bronwen. They were good witches, both of them. And she supposed they were now her…companions? She wasn't sure what to call them, or her great-grandmother, Glennis. They didn't feel like her family, but perhaps, with time, they would be. For once, Manon did not wince at the thought, but simply settled for giving herself time to adjust.
All of this was new to her. Being without the Thirteen, her relationship with Glennis, Petrah an Bronwen, her title as the High-Queen of the Crochan and Ironteeth...all of it was new and somewhat startling. Rebuilding the Waste, the Witch Kingdom, had not been easy. It'd taken more patience and diplomacy than she was accustomed to, not able to use her iron teeth and nails. But it was a new world, a better one.
Paved by her Thirteen, by her parents before them…by her half-sister, who went to find her and died at her hands.
Live. Asterin had said. The word echoed in her mind as she looked at the monument.
It wasn't enough to simply breathe, to simply live through half-lit eyes. No, Manon realized what the Thirneen wanted for her was to live and thrive. To love and feel. To allow herself to be happy. To fly high…ride the winds and soar above the sky. She would do that, for her sisters. For her Thirteen.
And suddenly, just like that, Manon knew what needed to be done. And she pushed off the balcony, determination in her eyes.
Yrene had the baby swaddle in her chest, a fabric wrapped around her body in such a way were she could move around freely without disturbing the sleeping youngling.
Manon was not seeking her out, but since she past the healer's working quarters and caught the radiant woman bouncing around form side to side, she felt inclined to at least say hello. Yrene was working on setting up this room as a classroom for her students. She'd made a call to all those across the continent who wanted to receive training in medicine and healing, especially those who held magical powers. Many had come, including witches, so much so she'd needed to open up more rooms.
She'd greeted Manon with a small hug, careful not to squish the baby between them, and quickly employed her to move around some of the larger tables to the far side of the room. Manon did as she was asked, somewhat amused by the young and vibrant healer who clearly didn't care for rank or position.
"I'm so glad you're here, Manon. And not just for helping me with the tables. But Chaol wanted me to tell you not to keep Dorian up too late tonight. He has an important meeting tomorrow."
Yrene shrugged and made an apologetic face as she said this.
Manon arched an amused brow, before asking.
"What meeting?"
"You know, with the Lords of Adarlan. There's some resistance with how Dorian wants to use the coffers, to rebuild and for his new alliance with Eyllwe. He wants to expand trade and make new alliances that are not derived of fear. We cannot forget, it was Adarlan who assisted Erawan all these years, and there's also the matter of the Lords of Fenharrow…" Yrene's voice trailed off, as though the pain of the war and the cost still weight heavily on her. On them all.
"He is their King. They must do as he says." Manon offered, unsure why Dorian would even need their permission or good standing. He could crush them with his magic without a second thought.
"Yes, well…I suppose he would like for them to agree. Dorian is untried as a King, and perhaps there are some Lords who see an opportunity in this." Yrene shrugged again, clearly not too familiar with the politics of it besides what her husband most likely shared with her.
Manon nodded in understanding.
"I will not promise that he won't be up too late. But I promise he'll be there." Manon smirked again, especially as Yrene smiled widely before turning to her wakening youngling. She promptly lifted him from the swaddle as she sat on one of the chairs, making quick work of her gown to have the child attach to her breast. Manon frowned, not sure how she felt at watching the woman feeding her youngling so uncaringly.
"It's normal for a mother to feed her child this way." Yrene explained, perhaps catching a glimpse of her frown.
Manon nodded once. The first time she saw the youngling she thought him to be the ugliest thing she'd ever seen. Now, with a tuff of honey-gold hair on its head and some color to his skin, the baby looked less frightening. In fact, if Manon was honest with herself, she'd say the baby looked…adorable.
"I must go." She said simply before nodding to Yrene. She wore a knowing smile, as thought she'd caught Manon admiring her baby.
"Next time you're here, you'll get to hold him." Yerene declared, making Manon smile softly despite herself.
"Next time." She agreed and left out the door.
"I'm going to ask Manon to be there tomorrow." Dorian said, not looking to Chaol as he offered this information. He was currently patting Abraxos on the head, the wyvern nuzzling his large head in his hand. Dorian smiled, although he knew Chaol wasn't.
"You think that's wise? They might take her presence there as an attempt at intimidation." In other words, Chaol saw this to be unwise as the Lords would definitely see her presence there as an attempt at intimidating them to agree with Dorian's plans.
"With her charm? Nonsense." Dorian flashed Chaol as smile, and knew his friend was not impressed with his humor.
"Look, the Lords have to get used to her presence here. She's the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom, and an ally to Adarlan…"
"…and the King's girlfriend." Chaol finished for Dorian, raising an unimpressed brow.
"I'm not sure she'd appreciate being called my girlfriend." He continued, without skipping a beat. "Now that we're on the subject…what title would you give her?" Dorian asked his friend, hoping Chaol had a better answer for this than himself.
"Title?" Chaol looked confused as he crossed his arms, his honey-brown eyes boring into his with a fierce scrutiny Dorian had come to fear from his right-hand man. He scratched the back of his head with the hand not petting Abraxos and offered a sheepish grin.
"Don't worry about it." Dorian decided it was best to drop the subject or else Chaol might sense what he truly wanted to do.
"If you're thinking about marrying her…" His friend trailed off as he took a step closer to Dorian, eyeing him wearily.
"…then she'd be the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom and Queen Consort to Adarlan." There was a smirk on Chaol's face, a knowing a smile creeping up on his lips before his friend…his brother….placed a strong hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
"She'd be damn lucky, too." He offered softly, their eyes locking then. Dorian nodded once with a smile, knowing he had his friend's approval. It meant the world to him, he realized, as they shared another smile between them.
They stayed like this for some time, until Manon cleared her throat and interrupted them.
Dorian and Chaol turned to find Manon with both her hands on her hips, eyeing them curiously, her bright, gold eyes gleaming. Her moon-white hair fell around her shoulders in soft waves and Dorian found himself unable to breathe.
"Well then. I will see you tomorrow, bright an early." Chaol gave Dorian a pointed look before turning to leave, pausing briefly next to Manon, bowing his head just so.
"Your Majesty." There was a flicker of amusement on Manon's face but she made a great show of keeping her expression as neutral as possible. She nodded to Chaol before he continued onwards, leaving them alone with Abraxos.
"I'm sorry if I interrupted your little moment." Manon still held amusement in her voice as she came next to him, her wyvern immediately turning towards her and away from him as Abraxos expected her to pet him as well. Manon's eyes gleamed with happiness as her attention turned to Abraxos. There was so much love in her eyes…
"You want me to leave you two alone?" He asked in jest, pocking fun back at her.
She only arched a brow as a response, and otherwise ignored him as she continued to pet and nuzzle Abraxos. They stayed silent for some time, as the both ran their hands through the wyvern's leathery skin, Dorian's eyes never leaving Manon's face.
"I was asked not to keep you up too late tonight." Manon finally spoke. There was amusement in her voice as her eyes settled on him.
They still shone with love.
"Well, if you plan to leave tomorrow, then I will have no choice but to stay up all night with you. If you decide to stay longer, then I might get some good rest tonight, knowing I can take my fill tomorrow instead."
There was no way Dorian would not take advantage of her being there, to be with her. Apart from sex, petting Abraxos together was the second most intimate thing they've ever shared. He looked forward to tangling with her some more on his bed, of running his hands through her silver locks…caressing her soft skin…kissing those beautiful lips. Dorian resisted the urge to swallow.
"Besides, I'd like for you to be there tomorrow, in the meeting." He offered, still holding her gaze.
"Wouldn't the Lords find that somewhat intimidating?" Manon didn't flinch nor bat an eye as she asked, clearly not offended by the reaction she'd get from the Lords. She walked with death and darkness at her side…proudly.
"Maybe, or maybe they'll finally understand that change has happened and that it's no longer an option to look the other way. We are building a better world, and it won't be one of exclusion and isolation for Adarlan. I will not have them pretend our role in the war…how Adarlan was a puppet to Morath and Erawan…I will not pretend it didn't happen. But I will not give up on the good people of Adarlan, at all those rebuilding…all those who gave their lives to defend our world." His eyes drifted from Manon, looking over the balcony to the city below. His city. His home…
He looked back to her again, their eyes locking and Manon simply nodded once in agreement.
"We're powerful allies, you and I." Dorian's voice dropped as he spoke, the invisible line between them appearing once more. Would he cross it now? Abraxos huffed his head between them before moving back to curl up for a nap, as though leaving them, giving them privacy to talk.
"Are we, now?" Manon asked smoothly.
Dorian couldn't help as he smiled, especially as the last rays of the dying sun caught in Manon's golden eyes, filling them with light so bright he actually gasped. Before he could talk himself out what he meant to do, he walked right up to her, forcing her to look up at him to meet his stare.
"Yes, we are. I thought maybe we make it official with a small affair. Nothing big. Just close friends and family."
"Make what official?" Her voice sounded unimpressed, but he could tell her breathing caught in her chest, her brows lightly pulling towards each other.
"You and me. Our alliance." Our marriage. He wanted to say, but kept to the same line of thought she'd offered him just over a year ago…inside that tent within the Crochan camp. Back to the last time he ever saw the Thirteen together.
"I'm thinking Glennis, of course, Petrah and Bronwen, Chaol and Yrene…" He counted the guests with his fingers, ignoring as her brow raised in question.
"I thought you said I'd never want to be shackled to a man in such a way." They stood so close, her breath caressed his face as she spoke. Dorian brought his hands to her upper arms, bracing her there in front of him.
Manon spoke truthfully, and this particular point struck him above all others. Would he be shackling her? Would it truly be a sacrifice for her to be his wife?
"I think it's fair to say things have changed." He settled for saying, praying to the non-existing gods for this to be true.
Manon stared into his eyes, her face revealing nothing of what she felt at the moment. Dorian's heart beat so hard and fast within his chest, he knew she could hear it. So he lay himself bare. He allowed his emotions to show…his fears of what he asked her for, fear of her refusal, to be seen as he stared right into her eyes.
Manon opened her mouth to speak but then paused.
She meant to speak, but wasn't sure what she'd say.
The first time she'd suggested this…alliance…it hadn't stopped Dorian from leaving, from realizing her fears as he set out for Morath. She hadn't known how to voice what she felt for him, just how attached she truly was.
Now, things had changed. And yet, somehow, they hadn't. It was still difficult to speak, to say what she felt. He wanted to marry her, and she could see it in his eyes…hear as his strong heart thundered in his chest.
What do I want? Manon asked herself. She was already willing to give him a child, children if she could…she was willing to fly back and forth…
"What would change?" She asked, needing to understand better. His face remained the same, but his eyes gleamed with hope. He knew she was considering his proposal.
"Not much. We would do as you said earlier, split our time between the kingdoms."
"But we would rule our kingdoms together?" She frowned, not sure how this would work.
"You'd be the High Queen of the Witch Kingdom and Queen Consort to Adarlan."
Manon couldn't help as she smirked at the terribly long title.
"That's a mouthful…" She breathed, her smile catching on Dorian's face.
"Longer than Aelin's." Dorian winked at her, as though to consider it.
"We wouldn't have to invite her and her entire, ridiculous court?" They were all clowns, especially at parties. Manon still regretted very much having gone to Elide's wedding not half a year ago.
"Gods no." He breathed, a long smile grazing his face, knowing he was close to her acceptance.
"And what would you be?" She asked, perhaps to understand the final piece of it.
"King of Adarlan. I don't have to hold an official position in the Witch Kingdom, unless you want me to." I'll do anything you ask me to, his eyes practically sang to her.
Manon took in a deep, long breath. She thought of Asterin and the Thirteen…her words, their sacrifice.
Live. The words echoed in her mind.
A phantom wind caressed her face then, and she knew it didn't come from Dorian's magic…even Abraxos stirred, his head perking to the side as though he could sense them. Manon closed her eyes as the wind swept through her, blowing her locks back.
"You shall be High King of the Witch Kingdom."
Dorian nodded, accepting, eyes gleaming with something so strange and foreign to her, she almost didn't recognize it.
Live. The wind whispered…Love, Manon…it said, and then it was gone.
A tear stained her cheek and Dorian kissed it away before capturing her lips. Their kiss lasted an eternity, as she curled her hands around his neck, as he held her waist with his strong grip. They didn't stop kissing until Abraxos nudged them, as if telling them to go away.
"Fine, we'll get a room." Dorian chuckled as he led Manon towards his room as he interwind their fingers together. Manon didn't protest, in fact, she leaned closer to him
The event ended up having slightly more than five people, as Manon decided to invite Elide at the very last minute, who brought her darkness prone husband along with her. Dorian had suggested that perhaps inviting Ansel would be a great idea, as they were still trying to lock down negotiations concerning the Waste. It sort of tumbled out of their hands from there, especially as Aelin got wind of it, most likely through Elide or Lysandra, whom Manon decided to also invite at the very last minute, as she had fought with her as a wyvern during the war. Of course, her husband would be coming along too…and so it went, until it was not a small affair at all.
They both wore specially made riding leathers with gold finishes. Manon wore her crown of light, and Dorian wore his father's favorite crown. Her sword belt held Wind-Cleaver, Dorian's held Damaris. And they married on the large balcony which overlooked the city below…where Manon could see the Thirteen, where Abraxos could stand next to her as she made her vows. Where the Crochans and the Inronteeth could be witness as they flew their brooms and wyverns from above. Even some of the ruhkin circled above them.
Chaol and Yrene were the only two others standing with them as Glennis officiated the ceremony….
There was a great feast in the large hall inside the castle, but Manon and Dorian only stayed briefly before sneaking off, back to the balcony where Abraxos waited for them. They quickly got on the saddle, Dorian behind her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and they were soon off, flying towards the sunset.
Flying nowhere in particular but somehow knowing they went home.
Thank you for reading! Reviews are more than welcome! :)