Last chapter is up! Enjoy!
He felt a sense of awareness first, followed by the sound of a bird calling in the distance…not a bird, a wyvern, he realized, after hearing a familiar returning call. He felt as though floating in the air, until the prickling of his skin alerted him to the firm bed beneath him. A soft exhale caressed his face, and he became aware of a warm presence lying next to him. His eyelids felt heavy but he opened his eyes.
Gold eyes met sapphire blue.
Manon slowly blinked a couple of times, as though to make sure this was real before a hand came to rest over his cheek. Her lips parted just so and liberated a soft breath of relief.
"Dorian." His name from her lips. It was the sweetest sound.
Dorian tried to speak but felt as his voice failed him, his throat too dry. In fact, when he tried to move, he found he couldn't as much as lift his hands. Manon instantly sat up and poured water into a cup before slowly bringing it to his lips, urging him to swallow slowly. After downing the entire content of the wooden cup, he once again tried to move his hands, this time he was able to grasp the fabric of her dress, right over her forearm.
"Manon." He managed to whisper her name, causing a reaction he never expected from the Queen of Witches. Manon closed her eyes tightly before opening them again, revealing tears. But not of sorrow…these were tears of joy. She half laughed half sobbed before throwing herself over him, crushing him with her immortal strength as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.
Dorian wanted to offer one if his trademark remarks, perhaps alluding to how Manon couldn't live without him, but her crushing embrace and the moisture now trickling down his neck from her shedding tears deterred him from doing so. Finding more of his strength, he was able to wrap his arms around the woman he loved—and breathed in her scent before planting a firm kiss on the side of her head. Manon pulled away so she could stare down at him, her now shoulder length hair falling forward over her cheeks. Dorian moved to remove a strand, tucking it behind her ear before wiping some of her tears with his thumb.
"You saved me, didn't you?" Dorian asked, though he knew the answer. Manon broke the curse.
"It wasn't just me." Manon confessed, her eyes dancing to the foot of the bed. Dorian followed her stare and found Chaol sitting on a chair, lightly drooling on the mattress where his head lay. Beyond Chaol, he could appreciate as Bronwen's head laid on Petrah's shoulder, who's head laid on Ansel's shoulder, who's head was leaning against the side of the wall. All three were sprawled on the floor.
Dorian smiled widely but then slightly frowned as he noticed someone missing.
"Glennis?" He asked, and Manon's eyes became glossy again. Before she could speak, the doors to the room opened, causing Chaol, the two witches and Ansel to all jerk awake.
Dorian couldn't immediately see who'd come in as he was still unable to sit up. He couldn't quite read Manon's expression, either. Her fingers curled around his wrist, squeezing a bit tighter than she perhaps intended. Chaol stood, his eyes opened wide as he looked to the door. Then he looked to Dorian, their eyes meeting, and he could physically see as Chaol had to keep control of his emotions as not to unravel. Such was his relief.
"My King." He breathed, tears stinging his eyes. This caught Bronwen's, Petrah's and Ansel's attention and they soon joined Chaol at the foot of the bed. The latter lightly shifted, extending a hand to someone whom then came into view.
Yrene Westfall.
Dorian's smile spread as he observed the people who surrounded the bed. His extended family. He turned to look to Manon and his smile died as soon as he saw her face. Her hand still held his wrist and her eyes were fixed on the opened door.
Manon's heart skipped a beat as she stared at the open door.
Up until this point, she'd been almost certain she'd lost not one, but two people she cared for deeply. Because in her haste and desperation to save Dorian, she might have sent her closest living relative to the grave. Cresseida's curse hadn't really sunk in until the hours weaned and her great-grandmother was still not back.
The curse demanded a sacrificed freely given by someone she loved.
And now, Glennis stood at the door of her room. Safe and sound.
"Glennis." It was Bronwen who first spoke, relief in her eyes and a smile on her lips.
Manon's eye locked with those of her great-grandmother, and there was pride and something else, edged in her stare. Manon couldn't keep her emotions in check anymore, and wanted to hate herself for the tears which now slid down her cheek. And yet, as she looked around those in the room, Manon felt and understood that it was alright for her to feel. She wasn't unworthy of Bronwen's, Petrah's and Ansel's friendship; she wasn't unworthy of Chaol's loyalty and sense of responsibility; Yrene had always been Manon's favorite person back in Rifthold and perhaps one day she'd tell the healer as much; and she definitely was worthy of her great-grandmother's admiration and of Dorian's love.
The Thirteens sacrifice had not been in vein. Her parents sacrifice had not been in vein.
"Healer." Manon called to Yrene as a small smile crept on her face.
"Would you mind working some of your magic on my mate? He looks worse than my new haircut." She quipped and there was a moment of pause as everyone unpackaged what she said. First, because she called Dorian her mate, finally admitting what they all knew and understood to be true, and secondly, because Manon made a joke.
Dorian was the first to burst out into laughter, followed by everyone else. Soon, they were all openly jabbing at each other, sharing tales of what took place in the day's past, as most sat on the bed or chairs surrounding it. They spoke of Petrah's near death encounter with a Yellowleg and how Bronwen had saved her; how Glennis almost got eaten by a wyvern but a ruhkin rider came to her aid in the very last second; how Chaol saved Manon in the nick of time from Thana Yellowlegs. Then Dorian told them the story of their other selves, of their daughter Elena and the last healer of Erilea, Terrin. As he spoke of their sacrifice, no one could help the tears and sniffles.
"We beat the darkness. Together." Dorian finished as he looked directly into her eyes.
"If we have a daughter, her name shall be Elena." Manon declared, not looking away from Dorian's intense stare.
"When, you mean." Dorian corrected her before taking her hand in his before bringing it to his lips for a soft, tender kiss.
"When…" Manon repeated. And knew it to be true with all her heart.
Glennis stood on the battlement, her eyes set on the horizon right where the blue of the ocean met the blue of the sky. Petrah came to join her, Bronwen not far behind. They'd become inseparable, Glennis realized with a small smile. Sisters in all the ways that counted. Ironteeth and Crochan no more.
Glennis smile died then as Petrah's deep blue eyes settled over hers questioningly, reminding her of why she'd asked her here in the first place.
"There was something which plagued me. Your mother's words…" She began but Petrah stopped her by placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I know."
"You know?" She questioned, eyes slightly furrowing.
"There had to be a sacrifice freely given. And we're all here, aren't we?" Petrah swallowed her emotions, her eyes dancing around the battlement just so she didn't have to stare at Glennis.
"She sacrificed herself for you, Petrah." Glennis took the younger witch's hand in hers and squeezed. Glennis had seen as much, having stopped at Cresseida's lair before making her way back to the Witch Kingdom with Yrene Westfall and the rest of the ruhkin riders.
The last remaining matron had set herself on fire, right underneath the gaping hole of her cave, presumably looking up at the eclipsing moon as she burned away into ash.
"She's joined the Three Face Goddess, earning her place amongst the stars." As Glennis spoke, Petrah finally shed the tears she'd desperately been holding, nodding in agreement.
"My mother saved us all." She said through tears and a pride-filled smile.
"Yes, my child. Yes, she did." And they both turned to the horizon, to the line where blue meets blue.
Elena stared at the map before her, eyeing the various markings with scrutiny as she made up her mind.
"It looks…good." And no one was more surprise than herself for saying it.
"It's perfect, actually." She breathed out almost inaudibly before her hand came to rest on the round of her growing belly. The old man whom been tasked with making the map breathed a sigh of relief as he bowed before taking his leave. He wasn't afraid of her, but Elena had indeed created a reputation for being a perfectionist, especially when it came to anything related to rebuilding Erilea once again. Maps would be instrumental as humanity continued to rebuild itself after almost total destruction.
Initially, after her parents had sacrificed themselves to save them all, Elena and Tarrin suspected there would be very few humans left on the continent. But they'd been wrong. Thousands upon thousands had survived…barely, but they endured even through the hardest of times. The lands of the old…Terrasen, Adarlan, Doranelle…those names meant nothing to the survivors now. But maps where a key to uniting men, fae, witch and any magical being which survived over a hundred years of Erawan's and Meave's cruel and unrelenting rule.
There will be more trade, more connection between those scattered…to finally bring all of Erilea together.
A soft smile graced Elena's face as she felt the baby kicking, and a breeze of sea and fallen snow, interwind with iron and the warmth of the sun-blew past her. Terrin appeared then, his naturally narrowed eyes assessing her wellbeing before planting a kiss on her cheek. Elena pretended to glare at him for being so affectionate with others around, but as he placed his hand over her growing belly and the baby immediately kicked, she could only smile.
It was a new world indeed.
Dorian awoke with a smile on his face, which only brightened further as his arm wrapped around the warm witch sleeping next to him. He buried his faced in the crook of her neck, inhaling the witch's scent before planning a kiss over her soft skin. Manon stirred and mumbled something incoherent before elbowing him not too gently. Dorian ignored her protests and continued to assault her neck and shoulder with fluttering kisses, his hand now sliding up the short of the shirt she wore as a nightgown (his shirt). Her skin pebbled with his touch, and Dorian couldn't help the grin as his fingers lightly traced her hips, then dipped to her lower belly…
He'd meant to go further south, except something—a flash of warmth, of something foreign yet familiar, interwind with a though, an image of sorts. There was warmth and a soothing, thudding heartbeat.
Dorian stilled, unsure of what he'd just felt, his hand now resting fully over her belly, ignoring the jagged scar which had been bestowed on her by her now dead grandmother.
"Princeling?" Manon questioned through groggy eyes, her brows furrowed slightly as she turned herself over so she could stare up at him properly. She'd been so tired in the last week, but Dorian had assumed it had to do with all the rebuilding back in the Witch Kingdom, and then her unplanned trip to Adarlan to visit him. The previous night, she'd winced as he'd massaged her breasts, claiming they were sensitive…of course, Dorian had used it as an excuse to replace his hand with his tongue, but now…
"Yesterday, when you arrived. There was something you wanted to tell me." He vaguely remembers her saying something as he'd brought his lips to hers, so raptured by her arrival, he didn't let her speak. And now he wondered if it had anything to do with what he'd just felt.
Manon yawned and stretched her legs before coming to a sitting position. She arranged the pillows behind her and didn't turn to him until she was sitting comfortably.
She made to speak, but Dorian stopped her with a kiss.
He knew exactly what she was going to say.
Manon had ridden to Adarlan as soon as she found out. It was by accident, as Glennis was teaching some young witches how to use crystals to tell the sex of an unborn child. As the crystal dangled from a long gold chain, Glennis allowed for it to swing as it willed.
"If it runs in a circle like this…" She demonstrated, "It's a girl. If it runs back and forth…" But the crystal would not go back and forth as intended. It ran in a circle, even as Glennis stopped manipulating the string. Their eyes had locked and Manon knew exactly what it meant.
Now, as she looked into Dorian's bright sapphire eyes, after giving her a rather thorough kiss, she knew he knew as well.
"H-how far along?" He was finally able to ask after a couple of failed attempts as his mouth gaped and closed.
"I'm not sure. Perhaps Yrene will be able to tell me." She admitted. It hasn't been three months since the Yellowlegs defeat, so it had to be recent. And Dorian had needed a couple of weeks to recuperate from his lack of sleep and almost death caused by the Yellowlegs' curse, before they coupled again.
"Perhaps just over a month or two at most." She explained, believing this to be the case. Dorian's smile only widens before his hand came to rest over her belly, his fingers lightly gracing the fabric of the shirt she wore.
"I'm thinking…a small ceremony in the Witch Kingdom, presided by Glennis, of course. Then, a week long procession, which will include a parade of wyverns, before a grand ceremony. Everyone from all the kingdoms will be here…" Dorian's eyes became distant and Manon could only frown further in confusion.
"What?" She questioned, unsure of what he spoke of and how it related to her being pregnant.
"Well, we have to officially marry, of course."
"No, we don't." She was quick to counter, except he pretended not to hear her as he scoots her closer to him, until she was forced to press her hands against his chest, both of them now on their knees.
"Then, we'll go on our honeymoon. Perhaps Abraxos can fly us somewhere far away, just the two of us." He pecks her lips…once, twice…
"Or…we could just go on the honeymoon, skip all the celebrations." Manon countered while her hands began to caress the span of his bare chest, across his pectorals, then down his abs…
" Oooorrr….we could have the hearth ceremony and then one, teeny-tiny one here…" Dorian quickly countered before pursing his lips and blinking rapidly as though giving her begging puppy eyes.
"Urgh…fine-" Manon conceded and before she could state her conditions (mainly at how teeny and tiny the wedding needed to be), she was quickly tackled so she once again lay on the bed. Dorian captured her lips and never stopped kissing her.
THE END