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Dorian *hugs and kisses Manon*
Manon: what is this?
Dorian: affection
Manon: That’s disgusting
Manon:
Manon: Do it again
sjm really made manon’s character development be like “i eat mortal men for breakfast” to “i eat a mortal man for breakfast”
Just for the hell of it, have a Manorian head canon.
- Eyllwe has called a summit of Erilea’s rulers. Kings, queens, nobles from across the continent will attend. The war ended several months ago and Manon has yet to visit Dorian in Adarlan. But there are no excuses to get them out of this event.
- Aelin, too far along in her pregnancy to travel, sends Lysandra in her place. The Lady has been in regular correspondence with not only Yrene, but the Witch Queen’s great grandmother. The three had formed a friendship in those final days when they were all still in Orynth, a friendship bound by a singular purpose.
- Everyone is to arrive on the same day, which begins with a reception before the long day of diplomatic and trade meetings. Dorian notices very quickly that this summit will involve more than the usual politics. Nobles have brought their eligible sons and daughters in the hopes of forming marriage alliances. He is swarmed with attention and sticks close to Lysandra, the only person there that he knows well. She’s not much help as she teases him mercilessly. Though she knows who he is waiting for and why he is so on edge. Manon is late and Dorian is beginning to worry. And of course, just as the doors to the reception hall open for a late arrival, Dorian is pushed into a corner by three young women demanding his attention.
- Manon enters the hall, still in her flying leathers, hair wind blown and thrown into a messy braid. She scans the room and sees people in jewels and finery. She feels more out of place than at any time in her life. Behind the main crowd stands Dorian, surrounded by women, some with their hands on him. He’s staring at Manon as if she burst into existence out of thin air. She finds herself glaring daggers at the women, leaving them frozen with fear. He unceremoniously disengages from the tarts who were flirting with him and walks towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. She feels like the room has emptied of sound and all she knows is him, pushing through the crowd to get to her. But the King and Queen of Eyllwe get to her first.
- The royals and Manon exchange greetings and pleasantries and she apologizes for her lateness (bad weather in the mountains) while Dorian stands politely behind them, his hands shaking with the desire to hug her. Her eyes keep flicking to him as if she is thinking the same thing. But the Eyllwe king offers her his arm and announces their meetings will now begin. The rulers and higher nobles are pulled into a large room and Lysandra appears at Dorian’s side. “You will see her tonight at the ball.” It doesn’t calm him though. If anything, he wishes these damn meetings wouldn’t happen. Before leaving him she adds, “I’m so excited! Aelin was adamant that I be very formal tonight. I was given a royal tiara to wear.” Dorian hides his bemusement with a smile and takes his seat. Hours of concerns and demands and negotiations. He and Manon try to listen but their gazes always find their way back to each other, sitting on opposite ends of the large table. Dorian briefly considers using his magic -phantom touches are better than none - but he refrains. This isn’t the place for that. It’s also not the place for a Fenharrow lord to be staring so lasciviously at Manon. Dorian sends a phantom kick at the lord’s shin, biting back a laugh when the man yelps. Manon is watching him, fully aware of what he’s done, but she doesn’t hide her smirk. At the end of the long day, the guests are quickly ushered out to their rooms. And he still hasn’t even been able to tell her hello.
- After Manon bathes and braids her hair, she tears into her bags only to find brightly colored silk instead of her usual dark leathers. Pulling one item out and holding it up, she realizes it’s a dress. Realizes that her bags have been switched. She holds it against her body and looks into the mirror. The dress is deep red, threadlike straps for over her shoulders, a slit along her thigh, and a plunging back. Manon wonders if she’d feel less exposed by wearing nothing at all. But she has no other option. She enlists one of her guard to help, and the witch knows less about dresses than Manon. But they manage. When she puts her crown on and looks in the mirror, she doesn’t quite recognize herself. The feeling is heightened when she realizes she kind of likes what she sees. Just then, there’s a tap on her window and she turns to see a raven. Honestly she’s surprised he waited this long. After shooing the guard out she returns to her room to find Dorian standing there. He’s in a very form fitting jacket and pants, shining black boots, his crown placed atop his dark curls. She’s never seen him this fancy. Never seen him wearing a crown. And for the second time in as many minutes, she realizes she likes what she sees. Likes it a lot. More than that, she has missed him.
- Dorian literally has no words. He’s forgotten his name, where he is, what fucking planet he’s on. He’s not sure if he’s breathing. Manon wrinkles her nose, looks down at her dress and says, “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?” Dorian can only shake his head as he continues to take her in. But he needs to touch her, make sure this is real, she is real. And before he can speak he is kissing her. Trying not to mess up her dress or hair while still satisfying his need to prove she’s truly there. Her hands are clutching at him searching for the same proof. When he finally trusts his senses, Dorian breaks their kiss and whispers, “Hello witchling” against her smiling lips.
- “Hello princeling.” Manon can’t resist touching his crown, his curls, his fine suit. “I think I like you like this.” His fingers are running up and down her bare arms as he says, “Me too. Uhh I mean … I like you like this too.” He laughs, feeling the heat fill his cheeks. “I can’t even speak properly.” Her fingers have caught on the buttons of his jacket and they share a look filled with how they’d rather spend their evening. But appearances must be kept up. So she takes his arm and he escorts her to the ball.
- So much for appearances and propriety. They spend the entire night ignoring everyone and dancing with each other. Except once when Dorian dances with a curiously smug Lysandra. Despite the marriage madness and the roving bands of single men and women hoping to climb the royal ladder, it’s clear by the end of the evening that the King of Adarlan and the Witch Queen are unofficially yet unmistakably taken, leaving many a disappointed noble.
- Lysandra retires to her rooms early where she sits down to write out two messages. One is addressed to Glennis Crochan, the other to Yrene Westfall, who is in Orynth to see to Aelin’s upcoming birth. The messages are short but will be understood and celebrated by their recipients. Ladies! Our ship has sailed.
*****
It’s been forever since I’ve written anything Manorian but I’ll tag some people who might enjoy this. @itach-i @bookishwitchling @manontrashbeak @jimetg98 @awesomelena555
Thanks for reading ☺️
“ You would be suprised by how closely the healing of physical wounds is tied to the healing of emotional ones. ”
Dorian : helpful grammer tip! ‘farther’ is for physical distance, ‘further’ is for metaphorical distance, and ‘father’ is for emotional distance!
Manon : who hurt you?
Dorian : my father were you not listening?
Just a fast sketch of Dorian’s first appearance in ToG, hope you like it✌️😅
Maybe I’ll do a full version in the future🤗
If you repost it on Instagram, please give full credit to @_manon_blackbeak(me), thank you🖤
Evangeline paused eating and said to none of them in particular, “ Could a healer fix me?” “ There is nothing to fix, ” Aedion said a bit too quietly.
Dorian: *flirting with manon*
Manon: How old are you?
Dorian: 21
Manon: I am old enough to be your mother
Dorian:
Manon:
Dorian: Wassup mommy
Did you understand the joke? If not I am so sorry I bad at this-
Anya Taylor Joy is giving big Manon Blackbeak vibes today with that hair.
‘Not all men’ you’re right dorian havilliard would never
okay, so. this is an old manorian x fenrys fic that… disappeared? i was fixing the links on my masterlist since i changed my url and i couldn’t find it ANYWHERE. did tumblr delete it? who knows lol. so i’m re-uploading it.
**set post-KOA - beware of spoilers**
WARNINGS: hella smut, language. this is ot3 smut, so if you’re not about that, please don’t read it.
edit: thank you SO MUCH to my mate, the love of my life, my besta, @vanserrasvalkyrie for requesting this filth months ago
if this seems like your thing, keep reading below the cut. enjoy!
I finished reading Queen of Shadows and I just want to say that if anything bad happens to my favorite characters I will riot. As always my favorites are the side characters, in this case Elide, Manon and Asterin (and Abraxos😂)
Can we all agree Aelin is practically Jack Sparrow?
Sam being loyal to Celaena and not Arobynn while The Thirteen are loyal to Manon and not the Blackbeak Matron… there are a lot of similarities between those dynamics including… ya know what i’m not even gonna say it
She was fire, and light, and ash, and embers. She was Aelin Fireheart, and she bowed no one and nothing, save the crown that was hers by blood and survival and triumph.
SJM really said I can’t give Nesta a wyvern named abraxos but what I can give her is
✨A House✨
DORIAN CASSIAN
🤝
F*CKING A WITCH
He himself was a beautiful weapon, forged by centuries of ruthless training and warring.