It's a story within a story!

Manon was dragged back until her head hit hard against the dais. She didn't make a sound nor did she flinch as Erewan grabbed her by the hair and lifted her until she was standing.

"Come now, brother. Don't waste a beautiful little pet for falling into temptation. Don't forget they were once lovers." Meave in fake persuasion, as clearly took pleasure in watching Dorian kneeling, unable to move, as Erawan did as he pleased with Manon.

Dorian could still recall as Manon screamed as Erawan forcibly removed each of her iron nails…pulling them out one by one…Her screams still reverberated through Dorian, through his memories. It made his magic roar louder within him, and he could feel as the stone beneath his one bent knee began to crack.

"Dorian. Rise." Meave commanded and he obeyed. But his gaze was still focused forward, to Erawan as he continued to hold Manon by the hair. He let go of her, shoving her down forcibly so she once again sat in front of his throne.

"It didn't have to be this way. I gave her the choice of being my queen and she chose to be my prisoner." Erawan had the audacity of sounding remorseful as he took a seat on his throne of bones, his gaze now falling on Dorian.

"I must say, your methods of controlling your subjects is no fun at all, sister. I much rather do it my way." He grinned. It was an evil grin. Made of all things vile and terrible.

"I don't control this one like I do the others. There was no need for a blood oath with my young husband." The Valg queen invaded his mind and took over his thoughts with her vile magic. Unlike her other subjects, she didn't even bother with the blood oath. It was meant to further insult him, he knew. He couldn't prevent being collard, and now he couldn't prevent Meave from taking over his mind, his thoughts, his body…she took his free will and his dignity. And mostly, she took his will to live.

"I don't have to do any of that with my witch." Erawan bragged as he tapped his fingers on the armrest, his gloved fingers thrumming over the bone of Dorian's friends…

There were footsteps echoing behind Dorian, coming closer and closer. Strong, steady footsteps. Dorian didn't move to look, but he could tell by Manon's eyes, and the way they glazed over with dread…he could tell this was how Erawan controlled her.

Manon stared at the sleeping man whom now invaded the left side of her bed.

He'd slept two days straight and still did not show any signs of waking. Manon hated how she'd barely left his side, how she couldn't bring herself to simply leave him be. She needed to make sure he was breathing and she didn't trust the others to tell her if anything was wrong. Manon hated how she'd become such a fussing nursemaid, but still couldn't help herself.

Now, after two days of working from her room just so she could watch his chest raise and fall…now she truly started to worry. Why wasn't he waking? Was he so tired?

Or was he trapped in his nightmare? What if he couldn't wake from it? Panic rose within Manon then and she summoned her council. And so now Petrah, Bronwen and Glennis stood within her room.

"It has to be a Yellowlegs. Before the fall of the Witch Kingdom over five hundred years ago, the Yellowlegs were known for casting curses that would make men go mad." Glennis insisted. They'd held this conversation for weeks now, since Manon had returned from Rifthold the last time. Since Chaol had approached her with his concern.

"But why would they care for the King of Adarlan? Why not strike at me?" Manon asked, not understanding why the Yellowlegs would bother with Dorian. She didn't think they wanted anything with Adarlan, especially after the defeat of Erawan and Dorian's alliance with Terrasen and the rest of Erilea.

"They do strike at you." Petrah pointed out, her icy blue eyes shifting to Manon.

"They strike at you through those you care about." She explained, and Manon could feel as Bronwen sucked in a breath next to her. They all stood silent, waiting for Manon to either rebuke or agree with Petrah's statement. She did neither as her eyes fell on the sleeping King again. He was slightly drooling on her pillow…

"They curse the King of Adarlan, making him weak and vulnerable and then what? Move in on the Witch Kingdom? Do they plan to attack? Could their numbers be so great?" Bronwen asked, but seemed skeptical of the latter.

"Or they hope to draw Manon out. To send her in search of whomever did this." Glennis offered, her voice calm and wise.

Manon frowned and bit her lower lip as she considered the possibilities.

"What happens to Adarlan if their King…" Petrah, wisely, didn't finish the sentence.

"His brother would be King. But he's very young still. Perhaps Lord Chaol would rule until he comes of age." Manon found herself saying, somehow understanding the politics of it despite her pretense of not caring.

"But what would happen to us if their King were to be harmed while in our Kingdom?" Bronwen asked, pointing out how precarious the situation truly was. For Dorian and for their still young kingdom. Could Adarlan turn on them? Would Terrasen or the rest of their allies in Erilea consider them enemies if something happened to Dorian?

"Can we break the curse?" Manon finally asks, her golden eyes still fixed on Dorian's face. That beautiful, wicked face…

"Not with what we have here. We need to understand more." Glennis stated, her voice steady.

"I might know who could help…" Petrah trailed off, but Manon knew what she meant, or whom rather.

"Find her. Find your mother. I will pay her a visit myself." Manon commanded, uncaring of her tone.

It was time for Cresseida to pay back a life debt.

Dorian's eyes opened to strange surroundings. Initially, he had no idea where he was nor why he was there. Or how he got there. The beamed ceiling looked completely foreign, just as the blankets and the firm bed felt strange. His eyes roamed over the bright room until they landed on a very familiar form sitting behind a desk. He could see the graceful stroke of her hand as she wrote on parchment, her moon-white hair falling over her shoulder as she leaned forward slightly. Her brows were pulled together and her lips slightly parted.

Beautiful. He couldn't help as his heart quicken just by staring at her.

Her golden eyes lifted suddenly, catching him staring. She stilled, and he could tell she held her breath. Their eyes locked.

"How do you feel?" She asked, somewhat carefully.

"I feel…" He began, and soon realized he really needed to pee.

"I need to go relief myself." He managed a half smile as he slowly tried to sit up. He heard the chair skid back as Manon rose, and she was next to him in seconds.

"Do you plan to carry me to the washroom?" He asked teasingly, causing her to narrow her eyes.

"If you fall on your face, I will not move to help you." She retorted as she crossed her arms and took a step back. She was wearing a similar gown as when he'd arrived…how long ago now?
"How long was I asleep?" He asked as he took his time in standing, feeling as his body felt numb in too many places.

"You slept for three days."

This made him pause. No wonder he had to pee so badly.

Dorian took his time crossing the room, his toes still numb. Manon followed behind him and apparently waited outside the washroom as she was still there when he came out.

"I called for food." Manon stated before she moved to turn around. Dorian caught her hand and pulled her closer to him, her dress bellowing with the sudden movement, until he could frame her face with his hands. She meant to protest but he quickly hushed her as he covered her lips with his. He tilted her head upwards to deepen the kiss, coaxing her tongue with his until she reciprocated the kiss. At first, she felt stiff against him, but soon she seemingly relaxed, her body molding into his, her hands coming around his back. When they finally came apart, he pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. Not sure why he apologized but somehow knowing he should.

Manon took a deep breath before pulling away from him.

"I said you could come." She said, probably meaning to deflect his apology.

"Yes, but not like this. I didn't mean to intrude on you and then collapse on your bed for three days." That's exactly what he'd done. Manon ignored him as someone knocked on the door of the room and a young witch proceeded to bring a tray of food. Manon pointed the witch out to the balcony, where a tall table for two was available.

As Dorian ate, he was able to see much of the Witch Kingdom, the ocean beyond the now green fields. There were wyverns flying around, and witches on brooms could be seen jetting across the sky. Manon didn't sit with him but stood with her hands folded, resting on the ledge of the balcony as she stared out into the horizon. So, once he was done eating, he joined her.

"It's beautiful." He said with sincerity.

"It's less busy than Rifthold." Manon pointed out, making him smile.

"Yes, well…wait a couple more years and this place will be buzzling as well." Dorian could almost forget what brought him here in the first place as they stood there, side by side. He felt…clearer.

"Lord Westfall has sent a small brigade of Adarlan soldiers and they should be arriving within the day. He says they are to be stationed around the castle for precaution. I suppose he doesn't trust us with your royal neck." Manon sounded somewhat miffed and Dorian had to hide a smile.

"I'm pretty sure Chaol knows Adarlan soldiers are no match for the witches. It's probably more for optics. As King, I shouldn't be traveling on my own." He offered, truly believing this even if Manon looked skeptical. They stayed silent for some minutes, all the while Dorian couldn't keep his eyes off her.

"I didn't realize how…different…it is here. How comfortable you look in your own space." Dorian pointed out, and for the first time he understood some of the apprehension Manon always seemed to possess for their relationship. Their interactions always took place in his own space; in Rifthold, in his palace, in his room.

He was the outsider now, and this was her domain.

And yet, Manon turned to look at him, her golden eyes bright with pride, her features calm and serene as the wind mildly blew on her hair.

"Would you like to see it?" She asked, and that was a small smile on her face.

The main street was still a bare road lined with temporary structures that were being upgraded little by little. As a mixture of stone and sand was added to the wooden frames, making them permanent and steady. There were many hearths and too many tents still erected around them, but there was definitely progress and pride in the work being done.

"We spent quite some time habilitating the old castle, but now we've clearly outgrown it and we've started rebuilding the city itself." Manon explained.

"Are the Crochan's and the Ironteeth keeping apart?" Dorian asked, unable to differentiate between the witches as they walked among them. Many stopped to look at them, but most continued their tasks, and hammering could be heard coming from more than one direction.

"No. Bronwen and Petrah will assign any new joining coven to an existing coven from the opposite witch group. This forces them to live and work together. Each coven is responsible for building their own homes, and they must all help each other. Many of the rebel Ironteeth who fought in the war had already joined Crochan covens by the time we arrived to the Wastes. It sort of happened…naturally." She finished explaining as they were waved over to one of the burning hearths, with Ironteeth and Crochan gathered around to eat their evening meal. Manon was offered a bowl of the stew that was being served, and she graciously accepted one for herself and one for Dorian.

The witches made space for them to sit on the surrounding logs, and so they quietly ate the stew.

"It's delicious." Dorian complimented the young witch by the hearth whom had served them, making her blush.

Some of the soldiers Chaol had sent stood around, lingering nearby. He could see they were as awestruck as he felt. There were also a surprising number of men. Helping with chores or sitting around hearths also eating their evening meals.

"The Crochans…they brought their husbands and sons." Manon answered, apparently having followed his line of sight. Indeed, there was a boy around five years old running after a young witch of the same age. They tagged each other in a fit of giggles before another youngling surprised them both by jumping out from behind a stack of logs. Their giggles made Dorian smile.

"As Crochans, we honor the Fae tradition of mating. Some would even argue that there is a remnant of the actual bond." An older witch commented. She sat closer to the hearth and perhaps this was her coven.

"That explains some of the comments I received when I first arrived." Dorian said as he realized this. He remembers someone muttering something about Manon's mate…

"Do you perform a ceremony?" He asked the older witch, and then regretted the question as Manon stilled next to him.

"Yes. The coven leader will perform the ceremony." The witch answered with a small smile on her wrinkled face. She must be ancient, Dorian realized, if she showed such obvious signs of age.

"Sounds exactly like getting married." He said with amusement and sort of hoped the subject would die there.

"Except humans seem to find ways out of their marriages. When we mate, it is forever." The crone further elaborated, her eyes softening as they moved from Dorian to Manon.

Manon simply stared down at her bowl of stew, apparently finding some interest in her spoon.

"I see." He settled for saying as he stood and handed back his empty bowl. "It truly was delicious." He complimented the young witch by the hearth again as she took his bowl.

"Thank you, Y-Your Highness." She stuttered slightly, making Dorian smile.

"It's Your Majesty, actually, as he is the King of Adarlan." Manon spoke softly as she handed her own bowl to the young witch, her eyes widening in shock. Manon gave the young witch a soft, reassuring smile which had her blushing further.

"Yes, Your Majesty." She was quick to say, eyeing them both with awe and fright.

"You may call me Dorian, actually. What is your name?" He asked, giving her one of her trademark smiles to make sure she felt at ease.

"D-Daria." She stuttered again.

"Well, thank you Daria for this wonderful meal. I truly appreciate it." Dorian smiled one last time to everyone around the hearth before Manon led him back towards the castle.

They stayed in silence for some moments until they reached the gates, now guarded by both Adarlan soldiers and witches.

"It is so natural for you to converse with others." She mussed, making him smirk.

"Is that a compliment, withcling?" He teased, as they reached the entrance to the palace and walked right in.

"It's an observation." Her tone was not playful but she didn't sound upset, either. If anything, she sounded insecure. Dorian paused, looking at Manon curiously.

"Do you find it hard to converse with your people?" He asked, but already knew the answer.

Manon frowned but turned to him. Her brows slightly furrowed and lips lightly pursed in thought. Gods, he wanted to kiss her right there and then.

"I find it difficult to be as approachable." She confessed, her golden eyes meeting his.

"Hmm…I could give you a few pointers, you know. But it will cost you." His voice lowered as he stepped forward and inched his head closer to hers, until they shared breath.

"You're in no position to ask for payment, princeling." And yet her voice sounded strained and he could see as her breathing changed. It was her tell.

Before he could retort, Petrah Blueblood rounded a corner, her blue robes bellowing as she made her way towards Manon with unbreakable focus.

"I found her. I found my mother." She said with excitement before realizing they were in an open area and that Dorian was right there. She eyed him with surprise before turning to Manon, probably realizing her mistake.

"Why have you been searching for the Blueblood matron?" He asked. After the war, the witches had decided not to pursue a vengeful path. Instead, Manon had declared amnesty for all Ironteeth whom were willing to return and help rebuild the witch kingdom. Those who didn't join them would not be hunted down, but they would be forever shunned from the Wastes. Cresseida, he knew, had chosen to remain in isolation.

Manon didn't meet his eyes, as her own were lost in thought.

"Manon." He called her name with surprising force, making her jerk her head towards him.

"It is none of your business." She seethed before turning away from him and heading down a long corridor.

"I'll see you in the room later." She didn't even bother to turn to him as she dismissed him, leaving Dorian alone and confused.

Thanks for reading!