Here it is!
xHatter
As her attendants-who were all too fussy by the way, a trait that grated on her nerves like none other; the High Queen was not one to be fussed over, but feared eternally-finished dressing her, Manon stepped away from their throng, effectively dismissing them. She could tell they weren't used to such abruptness because in any similar instance the girls would always fall all over each other, blushing harshly and muttering apologies as they scampered away. They did so now.
Once they were gone, Manon returned to the mirror to get a better look at herself.
The dress felt...comfortable, to Manon's surprise. As she stared at the mirror and admired what she saw, she couldn't help but feel like she was gazing at a version of herself that she'd never encountered. The woman staring back at her was refined, dressed in a gown that was simple but regal. She loved the beautiful skirt that hugged her hips until mid-thigh and then billowed out into a train that wasn't ridiculously long and fussy. She'd felt a little apprehensive about the sleeves of the dress because they reached all the way to her wrists, but she couldn't even hold onto the feeling because she didn't feel the least bit restricted. The top of the dress reached to just below her shoulders, but the material gave enough that should the need to fight emerge, she would have full range of motion. (She knew nothing would present itself, but still hoped for it anyway.)
Her hair wouldn't present a problem either, as it had been swept into an artful braid that dangled over her shoulder casually. She preferred the braid to any other style they could have concocted, and was grateful for her good fortune.
Before she could start to focus on her shoes, the one unfavorable aspect of her whole ensemble, the Queen of Terrasen made her presence known.
Manon had done what Glennis had bid her and gone to get dressed while the other females in her wedding party had converged in another room to ready themselves. Manon had no idea what they were wearing, nor did she particularly care.
The High Queen's hackles rose the second the silence in the room was broken.
"Never thought I'd say this and actually mean it, but...you look gorgeous."
"Must you always insist on poking the bear?" Came the sweeter, much more gentle voice of Lady Elide Lochan, a dear friend, and one of the bravest women Manon had ever known.
"Please, Manon loves it."
"I think you have an addiction to danger."
"I'm not going to tell you that you're wrong." Manon almost chuckled at the clearly exasperated sigh that followed, but instead opted to turn around and face her hecklers.
Her great-grandmother gave a little gasp, and held a hand to her mouth, tears glistening in her eyes. Manon felt her throat tighten, and in an effort to ignore it, looked at Queen Aelin standing in the middle-clearly the unofficial leader of the party- and noticed that around her stood Glennis, Elide, and Yrene Towers (the Savior of Erilea, loathe as the young woman was to admit it). She would never express herself out loud, but Manon was glad for her companions.
Petra Blueblood joined a minute later, holding two glasses of champagne and with a knowing glint in her eyes, walked right up to Manon and offered her one.
Their eyes met in understanding. With a grunt of thanks, Manon took a gulp, hoping it would calm her rekindled nerves. She took deep breaths, reminding herself that in a few hours time, the wretched ceremony would be over and done with and she'd be free to do as she pleased. Feeling a little refreshed, she took a deep breath and handed the glass back to Petra.
When they had initially fought Erowan and Maeve and won, Manon had only one focus: the mourning of her Thirteen, and the struggle of life without them. She had been so lost in her sorrow that she hadn't noticed anyone else, but now that these females were with her, she felt like she had been given a second chance to truly celebrate with them, though again she'd never admit it out loud.
She was pulled from her thoughts by the clanking of a glass.
"Ladies," Aelin began, "I would just like to take a moment to say a few words about the blushing bride-to-be," She paused as giggles broke out amongst them, "Manon Blackbeak is without question one of the fiercest warriors to have ever lived. Her courage, her skills, and her heart are unmatched. Without her aid during the war, we would not be in this room celebrating, but somewhere without light, and more importantly, without love. So let's raise our glasses to this brilliant witch," her grin would have been almost feral, had there not been mist in her eyes as she concluded, "and wish her the best of luck dealing with Dorian." Another pause as giggles again erupted, and then she raised her glass. "To Manon!"
"To Manon!" Echoed the others, and Manon couldn't help herself as she smiled, just a tiny bit.
The High Queen took yet another breath, and decided that she was ready to face this, to walk not towards uncertainty, but towards Dorian, who despite himself, had proved to be her one true companion in every way. She sent a prayer to the Mother, thanking her Thirteen for everything they'd sacrificed and the journey they'd led her on, towards the light.
Conviction rang in her bones as she announced, "It's time."
