Breakfast

Dorian woke up tired and sore as he lazily opened his eyes to a rising sun. He was confused as he noticed the sunlight drifted over a bare stone wall, not his ornate dresser. The moment was broken as he remembered his night, the terrifying trip on the back of a wyvern, the slam of the wind as they descended. The nice moments afterward, heavy breaths and long, slow kisses.

Manon's bed was small, comfortable for one person, but cramped for two. Still, Dorian didn't mind having her so close, or half sprawled over each other as it were. They had taken to sleeping together after sex, and the young King was reluctant to address out loud what it meant, what it could mean.

This was the first time he'd stayed over at her place though.

The room, her room, was simple, with a few candles on opposite sides of it, a tiny wooden dresser with nothing but two knives on top, a neat pile of leathers on a corner and three hooks with her red cloak and two black ones next to it. His own set of clothes were in a bag on her worn chair. No vanity, no mirror, no dresses or jewelry. The only shoes she owned were two pairs of boots, one for flying and the other for long travel.

Dorian suddenly felt a little foolish within his opulence. He had a room just for his countless footwear alone.

Shifting a bit, the young man bit back a hiss. He tried something different with her and though deeply enjoyable, her nails were a bit too sharp and his skin a bit too breakable. Manon had actually apologized, kissing her way down his throat and passing soft fingers over the scratches on either side of his waist. Speaking of which, though she was on her stomach and turned toward the wall, Manon was still fast asleep. Unfortunately, she was not a cuddler. Fortunately, the bed was so small the little witchling had no choice but to let him tangle their legs together, her arm over his, fingers close.

She had a single flimsy sheet to cover herself with and Dorian wondered if she ever got cold.

Bravely, the King slowly raised his left arm and made a move to lay it on her head. He watched her fingers, flinching at the memories of her nails and wondering if startling her awake would make those same claws sink into his neck.

He stopped right before he touched her hair, reconsidering. "I'm not going to attack you," he heard her mutter.

Her voice was so nice like this, Dorian was momentarily distracted by its sound. Then he registered what she said and tried to save himself the embarrassment. "You can't blame me for being careful. You bite." It was a joke, but he wasn't a complete fool. Manon was dangerous, rivaling Aelin, perhaps worse. And yet here he was, unguarded and potentially vulnerable, literally in this beautiful predator's claws.

Completely deserting common sense, Dorian let his hand drop on her hair in a gesture he wouldn't have done a few weeks ago. It was so soft he had the urge to groan. "Like a lamb," she muttered, turning her head and meeting his eyes.

Dorian shrugged a little as his hand brushed hers. Leaning close he smiled. "What is a wolf doing sleeping next to a lamb?"

This time their lips were the ones brushing against each other as she spoke. "Perhaps I am a lamb too."

"Hm," he wondered, leaning back. "Is that it? Or are we just two wolves?"

"Perhaps wyverns."

He chuckled and to his delight, she smiled back- a tiny thing, the ends of her lips rising. "I could get used to this," he admitted slowly. When she tilted her head, he cleared his throat a bit. "Waking up next to you."

As expected, Manon froze over, going so far as to sit up. "It's late, breakfast will be ready soon."

"Hey, Manon." But she was climbing over him, her movements so fast and coordinated, he had trouble taking her arm.

The witch looked at his hand then up at him. She raised her own fingers and touched at the center of his chest. "Stay," she ordered before going for his wrist and prying herself away.

Entranced and a bit confused, Dorian watched as she dressed, always fast-as if following a rhythm. When done, Manon glanced at him again, still naked on her bed, his hair a mess. "Where are you going?"

There was a hint of humor in her pretty eyes. "Washroom. You can use it when we are done."

He knew who she meant by 'we.' Nodding because she was staring, Manon imitated his gesture before leaving the room. Not really knowing what to do, Dorian just sat there, observing the room. He really wanted to get her a better bed, and proper sheets. The pillow could use a change too, to silk and cotton. Curiously, the King glanced at the door, smirking a bit as he stood up and placed on his lower underwear. Manon had had plenty of time to explore his quarters, he might as well explore hers. Taking his time, Dorian went to the dresser first. Cheaply made, wooden, nothing pretty about it. As always, its function was favored over its looks. One of the hinges was missing, but he got the upper drawer to open.

The urge to smile won over. Undergarments, all in white. "Perhaps I should get you more color," he mumbled as he picked up a few items. All in good condition. For a moment, he let himself imagine her in red...or lace.

Closing it, he explored the second drawer. Undershirts and tights. For the cold, he knew. Grabbing one he observed the material. Nylon, a rarity. Very good quality. As he closed the drawer and observed her cloaks, the door opened.

"Hello, little King."

The voice did not belong to Manon and as he turned Dorian felt very exposed, especially as Sorrel's eyes raked over him. "Cute," was her only observation, before stepping forward. Funny how with Manon the room felt of a comfortable size. Now, he couldn't get far enough away. "Don't be so tense, I'm not here to kill you."

That did not calm him down and due to the stress, he felt his magic starting to act up. He had taken some training with Aelin and Rowan and, grinding into his lessons, Dorian managed to hold it back. Sorrel watched him quietly, calculated, as if she was assessing a threat.

She sniffed at the air. "You slept here."

The King couldn't tell if it was surprise or anger tinting her voice. "I did."

"Next to her?"

His eyebrows drew together. "Yes...?"

"Interesting."

"Why?"

Sorrel narrowed her eyes and as the Third came forward, Dorian shrank back. Manon was smaller than him, Sorrel was not. "In our culture, sharing sleeping quarters is a sign of honor." She went for his cheeks, her iron nails digging into his skin. "I'd eat you if she didn't have you as a pet, you know."

A threat? Or just plain brutal honesty?

Dorian couldn't tell.

For a moment, they stared at each other...before Sorrel took a small swipe with her nail underneath his chin. The sting made him jump, but it was a small scratch.

Just as she was about to lick it, Sorrel disappeared.

Her movements were so fast, Dorian felt a sliver of cold run out of him, freezing the spots under his feet.

But Sorrel hadn't made herself disappear. Manon had pulled her out, slamming the bigger witch against the outer wall with a fathom strength he kept forgetting she had. The white-haired witch growled deep, the sound vibrating against the walls. "Leave."

Sorrel's face was down, her eyes focusing on the floor. Nothing of the threat she posed before present, only utter respect and submission. She bowed as low as she could in Manon's hold. "Matron." Even her voice had changed.

As Sorrel left without so much as a glance at him, Dorian let out a breath in relief. He was just starting to notice how dangerous these people were. That they were beautiful meant nothing, that Manon never made a move to attack him meant nothing. It was clear he was barely tolerated.

"Dorian." His eyes snapped up to her face, taking in the fresh scent. Not even her smell could affect him now. Manon slowly approached. "Are you...hurt?"

Was that actual concern or was he mistaken? "I'm fine," he lied. When she merely kept staring, he rubbed the back of his head. "She was looking out for you, that's all."

These weren't human women. They were more beast than anything. Manon's face was a ruse, to hide the malice underneath. What was he thinking? Not just with coming here but spending time with her at all?

"Do you want to go?"

The question sucked out the air in the room like it was fire. Dorian swallowed. "I think so, yes."

Manon nodded, but another voice joined in. "No, you don't."

Both turned to the door where a beautiful blonde stood grinning at them. Asterin. Her smile grew as she let herself inside, sniffing at the room. "Wow, you let him sleep here?"

Manon didn't answer, her face and body stiff.

Dorian remembered it meant something...something deep. To sleep next to someone. It seemed Sorrel didn't lie to him from the funny way Asterin looked at her Matron. "Tell me, Dorian," he preferred his name on Manon's tongue, even though her Second was quite the beauty herself. "Are you hungry? Manon ordered for a fourteenth spot."

His former thoughts of doubt and self-reflection went out the window. "You did?" He asked her.

"If you are uncomfortable," she replied slowly, her eyes on his. "You can go." Next to her, Asterin frowned. There was only one way Dorian would describe the Second's expression.

Bewilderment.

"Can you give us a moment, Asterin? If only for me to dress?"

Asterin bowed in Manon's direction even though the latter didn't acknowledge her, before taking her leave and closing the door behind her.

"Do you want me to stay?" He asked.

Manon's face was stone. "The choice is yours."

"But do you want me to?"

"What do you want?"

Dorian stepped forward, looking at her with a tilt of his head. "I asked first. Manon, do you want me to stay here?"

She looked away and crossed her arms, pushing him back with her body language. With a low voice she said, "I don't know."

Since he had gained more trust around her, he stepped close, enough to share breath. "Is something happening?" He wondered. "Between us, I mean?"

Her frown was so heavy he wondered if the expression would remain permanent on her face. "What do you want?" She shot back. "Why do you insist on defining this-whatever it is."

Dorian blinked and hesitated before he reached for her waist. She twitched a bit but didn't stop him. "I think..." He paused, going over his many thoughts. The nights he stayed up thinking about all this, about his future. "I think we should be something." Screw everything else but them right now, in this instant.

He spoke again. "I think we should court."

The silence was jarring and he felt like maybe he should have waited longer. At the same time though, saying it felt like a release. A weight eased off his shoulders.

"Court," Manon repeated slowly, each syllable pronounced with force.

"We could start," he offered as she had not objected to his suggestion yet, "with breakfast. Later, perhaps...I would like to take you to the theater. You told me you liked music. We have a really good orchestra. We don't have to though, if you don't want-we can try other things...um...are you okay?"

He was rambling nonsense while she was white as a sheet. Worried, he went for her face. "Manon?"

Her hands came up, grabbing unto his forearms. "You wish to court?" She whispered, like she was talking to herself.

The confusion in her voice so deep, Dorian paused. "You don't want to?"

"You are...so infuriating," she admitted before stepping out of his hands.

"Why do you say that?"

"Court," she repeated, mystified.

Dorian smiled a little. "Yes, and I think breakfast sounds great to start off-"

Her gold eyes were fierce as she spoke. "What of your kingdom?"

She hadn't said no. She hadn't said no. "I don't really care what my people think in that regard-wait," he cut in, "does that mean you want to court?"

She shook her head, but not to deny him. "I think and think but there is no way to understand you."

Surprised, he raised an eyebrow. "And you think I understand you at all?" There was a pause. "Manon, we lose nothing by trying."

He knew what was going through her head. Witches didn't court. Lovers were a luxury, like dessert. Something pleasant and sweet, but not necessary for survival. Disposable. "No."

Dorian fought the ache in his chest. He should have expected rejection, but he was still surprised. Maybe Manon hadn't changed like he thought she had. "I thought you liked me."

"A stupid assumption."

The King blinked. If only for the fact that he was now realizing he hadn't changed her. The fact that he was an idiot didn't stop him from continuing. "But we've been sleeping together," he pleaded. And he did not mean the sex.

There it was, he thought with a bit of hope. Hesitation. But it disappeared as soon as it surfaced, and she was back to being a stone wall. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"What?" He exclaimed, his voice higher than he intended. "That's not fair!"

A scoff. "You think life is fair?"

"You can't just shut me out."

"I don't have to tell you anything, Dorian."

Evading. Manon was always evading. Dorian was starting to know her now. When she didn't want to talk about something, when she was put into a corner, when she felt pressured, the witch just closed up and shut everything and everyone out. But she owed him nothing, and he couldn't ask for more than she was giving him.

For a moment, the King just stared at her. "Breakfast though, right?" He challenged, his tone clipped.

She met his gaze head on. "The washroom is at the end of the hallway, to your left. You have ten minutes."

…

Dorian was finishing up in the communal washroom when he heard footsteps. The sound was on purpose, so he didn't startle and he wasn't sure how to feel when Asterin smiled at him. Their conversation not two weeks before came to mind, specifically the part where she reminded him that Manon was not easy, in any sense of the word. "What?" He asked when the blonde didn't speak.

"Are you angry?"

"No."

He chided himself for saying that too quickly. "You sound a little upset."

Why Asterin bothered with him, he didn't know. "Manon is frustrating."

A very pretty laugh escaped her and the Second tilted her head. "My Matron can be a stubborn brat sometimes, that's for sure." Dorian held back his chuckle expertly, coating the expression with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Isn't that a sign of disrespect?"

The little grin remained. "If Manon truly cared for what I said, I would have been dead decades ago."

"Did she send you?"

The smile turned into a smirk. "Would you send the King's Hand, your Advisor, to speak with her?"

Good point. "Should I leave?"

Asterin shrugged. "It's your choice."

Choice. It had always been a choice. He chose to sleep with her. She chose to come back. He chose to invite her to a ball. She chose to take him to this mountain. "Where is she now?"

"In the hallway. She doesn't know I'm here though, nor can she hear us."

Manon had called him confusing. Ironic how he thought the same of her. "Would you be willing to advocate?"

Her eyebrows drew together. "For what?"

"I want to convince her that we should court."

…

Breakfast was interesting to say the least. The mess hall was in the middle of the stone building within the mountain, large enough for a group of forty, though only The Thirteen seemed to stay here. Dorian entered the room slowly, feeling as all eyes turned to him-some curious, some surprised-none of them were hostile as much as he could tell. Sorrel was nowhere to be seen however.

No one seemed to mind and the King followed after Manon feeling as though he was being stalked and judged. If there was something he learned from Blackbeaks, it was their directness, as not a single one hid their stare, even though some had food in front of them.

"You can sit there, King," Asterin told him with a barely concealed grin. She was definitely enjoying his squirming.

"T-Thank you."

The ground should swallow him whole, he thought. A stuttering mess, that's what he was now, a deer in a lion's den. But his embarrassment quelled minutely when Manon turned to him, a meal already placed in front of her. "The food here is different than your fancy meals."

Silence. Even the silverware was put on hold, some of the witches stopping mid-bite.

Pretending this was a council meeting with proud lords and hard-to-impress ladies watching his every move, Dorian smiled charmingly, sitting on the chair like it was a throne. "I highly doubt anything that is served in my castle could hold a candle to this wonderful-looking feast."

A snicker. Probably from Asterin.

Manon gave a slow nod. "You'd better eat it all then less you wish to insult Ghislaine's cooking."

Dorian glanced at the perplexing amount of food in front of him, so much it was spread along three large plates. He then turned to the dark-skinned witch whose narrowed green eyes were amused. "Good thing I'm hungry," he muttered as he picked up a fork and knife.

Everyone in that room knew he would barely be able to finish one plate.

I always thought that not all of the witches would be happy that Manon was spending time with someone else. I chose Sorell because she is Third and she would care deeply for Manon in a different way than Asterin. It would be interesting to see her be protective of her Matron by being distrustful of Dorian, no?

The reviews these past two weeks were amazing!

fandomsareforever15 – Here's that morning after scene-ish. Though I think there will be more versions of this in the future.

Guest / eternity1012323 – I'm happy you both like the series. I'm always trying to portray these characters as realistically as possible.

Guest – I don't think either of them is afraid of love to be honest, but everything is very 'new' at this point (especially for Manon.) It's a nice, different dynamic I like to continually explore.

HawkDramione – I think Chaol and Asterin are great characters to write, especially when it comes to those they care most about.

Anon – I understand your position and I am really humbled to see that you liked my writing. I hope you continue to check out my future one-shots.

Lady Elvira – Asterin/Dorian interaction was a pleasure to write. I hope you enjoy this one ;]

Guest– If you make an account you can get email notifications of when I post a new chapter! Though I don't mind when people reread my stuff.

jadegreen343 – I was initially surprised too that they could be 'something!' But the more I thought about it, the more I came to like them together!

AwkwardNerdyGirl – Really, really awesome review! I can't express that enough! It was honoring to read! Manorian is sadly underwritten at this point, but I do wish to continue updating. Sorry for the wait!

BethBaxter – I'm really happy that you took the time to review twice! Those suggestions were great and I do think I'll incorporate Sorrin more into these one-shots since people like her so much. Really nice to see this sort of review!

RowaelinHerondale – Sorry for the confusion. I chose to describe Dorian as an ice prince because that is how Manon met Dorian (hence the little 'princeling' nickname.) His magic is ice and while Rowan can create ice, his magic is wind. I don't mind that you were trying to clarify, but I don't think it's an issue big enough that I would change the description.

Thank you everyone for the reviews, the follows, and the favorites!

PS: I know, I know, I'm late with posting. I have an explanation though. Unfortunately, Pokemon Go has taken over my life. I'm sorry. (Though I did hit a bit of a writer's block with this one. Fortunately, I got over it, especially because of such great reviews!) Thanks again!