Goodbye and Hello - 1
I’m still bitter we didn’t get a proper manorian goodbye in Kingdom of Ash. So here’s my attempt. KoA spoilers!
Tagging @itach-i and @nestasbucket. If you’d like to be tagged in the next few parts, let me know!
fanfic master list (including the link to my fics on AO3, under the same username)
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Part One
I Wish...
Laughter and music filled the great hall as everyone gathered for their final night together. All the armies, all the healers, all the witches planned to leave Orynth tomorrow.
Manon stared at her plate, trying to convince herself to eat what was on it. A round of applause broke out and she looked up to see a crowd gathering at the far end of the room. A group of young witches walked past her, hurrying to join the dancing. As the clapping took on fast tempo, Manon’s attention returned to her food.
The initial burst of joy that had accompanied the tiny purple flower brought from the Wastes had dissipated over the past weeks. The reality of what it meant slowly settled like a lead weight in her chest. Seeing Ironteeth and Crochan witches looking forward to the future helped to buoy her mood sometimes. But it couldn’t erase the truth that none of them really knew what the future held in the Wastes. And it couldn’t fill the hollowness that continued to grow inside her.
Her eyes flitted across the room, never lingering very long on anyone or anything. The itch to fly was beginning to prickle under her skin. She knew Glennis watched, so Manon ate a few bites, then stood to leave, claiming she had to pack.
It wasn’t a lie exactly, as she did need to gather her things. But she also needed to get out of here. The witches at her table accepted the excuse without so much as a glance, and Manon felt a sharp pang of grief at the thought that the Thirteen would have seen right through it. Asterin would have gone along to make sure she actually did pack, Sorrel and Vesta following close behind.
As she walked through the maze of hallways, she could almost feel Asterin trailing her to the room she’d been sharing with Dorian.
Most nights she ended up in the aerie, but she usually began them here. He never stopped her going, even when she accidentally woke him. She had not mentioned the Thirteen to him, to anyone, since those moments after the final battle. He knew why she was pulled to the balcony to stare across the plain with Abraxos. He’d offered to come with her once, and when she’d hesitated, he’d kissed her forehead and said, “Just ask if you ever change your mind.”
When she opened the door, his scent wrapped around her, and she immediately set to gathering her things. This was going to be hard enough without drawing it out, she might as well get it over with. A humorless laugh escaped her as Manon better understood why Dorian had left without saying goodbye all those weeks ago.
“What’s so funny?”
She whirled to find him closing the door. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed he’d followed her here.
“You should be back in the hall. Enjoying the celebration with your friends,” she said, ignoring his question.
His eyes bore into her, and she almost looked away. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
She went back to stuffing clothing into her bags. She didn’t want to do this. Didn’t know how to do this.
Without a word, Dorian walked over and took the shirt from her hands. Setting it aside, he gently turned her to face him. Manon didn’t think she could look at him, so she stared straight ahead, focusing on the triangle of bare skin where his collar hung open.
The pale band around his neck called to her, and she brushed her fingers along it. The sound of his heartbeat quickened and she felt the heat rise in his skin. For a moment, she considered not stopping. Considered taking him to bed to distract them both from whatever conversation he seemed intent on having tonight. And what was coming tomorrow.
But the idea seemed like a coward’s way out, and she was not a coward. Even if fear lined most of her thoughts these days.
She’d admitted her fears to him once before, and he had not judged her. There was no one else left that she trusted this much, no one she’d allow to see her this vulnerable.
As before, he knew what was wrong, at least the shape of it. But instead of confronting her, he’d been quiet and patient and... there. Always there. Nothing more, unless she’d asked.
Dropping her fingers from his neck, she took a breath and said simply, “I’m afraid.”
Dorian pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Of what?” he asked, his hand stroking her back.
His touch felt so good, the pressure easing her tense muscles, and she relaxed into him. “I don’t know how to do this without them.”
The truth had been building in her for days. Confessing part of it lightened the heaviness inside her, just a little. So, she went on. “I don’t know if I ever truly believed we’d go home. Not until recently. And now. To face it without them...” She trailed off. As he squeezed her tighter, she said, “I feel so alone.”
Not once had Manon truly considered a future without all of the Thirteen. A future where they were gone and she was left to carry on. Even the prospect of being queen, a duty she’d now fully assumed, had never altered that image. If they weren’t there, she wouldn’t be either.
Dorian pulled away, steadying her with his hands on her shoulders. “You are not alone, Manon. They can never be replaced. But don’t ever think you’re alone. You have friends and family who care about you.” Moments passed in silence until finally, his voice roughened with emotion, he said, “I care about you.”
He’d said it before. But there was something in the words this time that felt different. A weight that had been lacking. The weight of a promise.
Manon slowly lifted her head to meet his gaze.
***
The dread of saying goodbye had made Dorian’s heart feel more and more fragile with each passing day. Now, he thought it might actually shatter.
It wasn’t lost on him that Manon couldn’t even say their names. No matter what mask she’d worn in front of the others, he saw the truth of what lay beneath.
The Thirteen were her family. Her entire family. And they were all gone. Glennis and her Crochan cousins might fill in that void someday, but it would take time. If it happened at all.
In a past life, Dorian would have tried distracting her with pleasurable touches or pretty words. In this life, had she been anyone else, he probably would have done just that. But Manon was not anyone.
Yet, if he spoke the words he truly wanted to say, whose mind would it ease? Likely not hers, as it would only overwhelm her. But his self control faltered as he felt the pain and sorrow emanating from her, as if his magic could sense it.
“I care about you,” he rasped. With each word, a spark of warm magic flowed from his hands into her. That spark lit something in her, making her eyes glow like flames as they met his.
“What do you want Dorian?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
She’d asked that of him days ago. But this time, it was an entirely different question. The desperation to answer with the truth, with the words he’d kept from her before - You, all of you - almost won out.
Almost.
It would be too much for her right now, he reasoned, an extra burden she didn’t need to carry. Especially with their goodbye growing closer with each minute.
“I want…” he started, then stopped. If he couldn’t tell her everything, he could at least give her a glimpse into what he felt.
Dorian took her hand in his, and they both watched as his thumb glided back and forth over her fingers. “I wish we could take off on Abraxos and fly around the world,” he said. “Not as a king and queen. Just a man and a witch. No crowns, no responsibilities.”
Manon’s eyebrow quirked in mild amusement and Dorian took it as a sign to continue.
“We can go wherever we want. East to Wendlyn, or the fabled lands across the western ocean. North to the frozen wastes, then to the Southern Continent. I can visit libraries and book shops and you...” he paused, thinking.
A wry, expectant expression crossed her face and he almost laughed.
“You can visit blacksmiths for new and exotic weaponry. When we run out of money for new books and daggers, you can teach girls how to fight while I perform magic tricks and shape shifting for crowds. I will make you breakfast in bed each morning.” He gave her a knowing look. “And you can shut me up each night.”
Manon’s smiles had been given sparingly before the war, yet he’d still come to think of himself as an expert on them. The smile she rewarded him with now, the first he’d seen since they’d reunited, was soft and brief and breathtakingly beautiful.
“I asked what you want, not what you wish,” she admonished with a touch of teasing.
Without thinking, he asked, “Can’t it be both?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “I want whatever you choose to offer.”
Manon closed her eyes, all traces of her smile gone. No doubt she was remembering when she’d first spoken those words to him, on a ship just off the Eyllwe coast. It felt like lifetimes ago, but it had been little more than a few months.
Or, he realized, perhaps she was thinking of a different offer she’d made more recently, in a tent at the edge of the White Fangs. One he’d abandoned rather than answer. He knew that if he had, if he’d faced the same choice as Gavin, then the keys, the gate, this war... all of it would have ended much differently. He told himself he didn’t regret it, and perhaps he didn’t. But it haunted him nonetheless.
She said nothing, and turned away again to resume her packing.
Mentally kicking himself, he silently watched her move around the room. She didn’t have much to take with her, and he had no idea what had been done with the Thirteen’s things. It was likely that their weapons and supplies had been redistributed as the siege had dragged on.
When Manon was done, she stopped at the makeshift bed, little more than a pile of hay covered with blankets. Without looking at him, she said, “I wish we didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”
Any remaining will power he had left dissolved in that moment, and Dorian walked to her side. “I wish for that too, witchling. More than anything.” She shifted towards him and he pulled her into a hug. “Whatever happens, you will not be alone."
The embrace lasted forever and no time at all, until she broke away and took a half step back. Tentatively, not bothering to hide her shaking, she took his hand and placed it over her heart. "You will always be with me.”
Dorian smiled, amazed. He was always amazed by her.
“And you will always be with me.” He clasped her hand against his own heart, another wave of his magic pulsing into her.
***
Promise again laced his words, and the force of it settled within her chest. Just as his touch had done, the soft smile he gave her now seemed to pierce through her sadness.
Manon sat down on the bed, pulling him with her. Curled into his arms, she pressed her ear to his chest and listened to the strong, even rhythm. She’d expected a night of little rest, but instead, Dorian held her tightly, giving her occasional kisses until she fell asleep.
Waking well before the first rays of dawn, she tried not to disturb him when she rose to get dressed. Dorian’s eyes opened the instant she sat up and he watched silently as she began to strap on her sword and daggers.
“Are you planning to sleep in?” She’d meant it to sound light and joking, but it was overshadowed by the farewell they could no longer put off.
“You want me to go up to the aerie with you?” He tossed the blankets aside and stood, quickly throwing on clothes. “I thought you’d want to say goodbye here,” he offered as explanation.
I don’t want to say it at all, she thought, but said nothing.
A sharp knock on the door announced it was time, and she scanned the room once again before her eyes landed on him. “Ready?”
He opened his mouth, and for a second she thought he might actually say no. Instead, he nervously ran his fingers through his hair and nodded once. When he held his hand out for her, she didn’t hesitate.
They walked slowly to the castle’s uppermost balcony that had been serving as the wyvern aerie. Dorian’s hand was like a vise and Manon wondered whose trembling the tight grip was meant to quell.
When they reached the final door leading them outside, he stopped short and spun her around to face him. “The Ferian Gap.”
It wasn’t a question but he seemed to need an answer, so she said, “Yes.” He relaxed a bit, and she added, “I don’t know how long before I can get away."
With a tight smile, he cupped her face in his hands. “I know. We can decide on a time later. I just...” He blinked rapidly, but it didn’t lessen the bright sheen of moisture in his eyes.
Manon raised up onto her toes and kissed him. “I know,” she said into his lips. He dropped his arms around her waist and lifted her up against him. Sliding her arms around his neck, she held on as if her life depended on it. Just as he was holding her.
***
Dorian tucked her braid into the fur collar of her cloak and they walked outside to where the others were waiting. As soon as their queen appeared, shouts to prepare for flight rang through the dark, frigid air.
He stayed with her until she checked all the harnesses on Abraxos, never taking his eyes off her as she climbed up into the saddle. Every nerve in his body wanted to leap up there with her, every ounce of his magic strained to touch her. But he stepped back, just far enough to be outside the reach of Abraxos’s wings.
When she was settled and strapped in, and there were no more excuses to delay, Manon placed her hand on her heart and said, “Goodbye, princeling.”
Dorian touched his own chest and said, “Goodbye, witchling.” He forced himself to give her a lighthearted wink. “For now.”
A twitch of a smile. “For now,” she agreed.
Before he could take another breath, Abraxos was at the drop-off overlooking the city far below. His booming wings flapped once, twice, and then they were airborne. On brooms and wyverns, hundreds of witches took to the sky, a few falling into formation around their queen with the rest streaming behind.
He stayed, watching as the large host grew small on the horizon, where the first rays of morning were breaking over the mountains. The sunlight caught a shining wing that flashed silver, just for an instant. And then, it was gone.
Long after they disappeared and he could no longer stand the cold, Dorian turned and went inside.
***
Manon felt Dorian’s magic surround her and Abraxos the moment they’d taken off, and she was surprised by how long it stayed with them. Its warmth soothed them as they passed over the blast site that was the focus of their nightly vigils. When the power began to flicker, like a candle being blown out, she glanced over her shoulder, unable to make him out as anything more than a dark figure on the highest balcony.
And then, it was gone. They’d flown past the reach of his magic. The freezing air bit into her now unshielded skin and Abraxos released a melancholy whine.
A lifetime of habit had Manon twisting around in her saddle, an order for Asterin already forming on her lips. When unfamiliar witches stared back at her, she said nothing and faced forward again.
The reminder hit her as it always did, like a physical blow. Like the punch to her gut that had left her behind, and left her alone.
To be continued...
