Goodbye and Hello - 4
Manon and Dorian said goodbye in Orynth. But for them, saying hello again is only a matter of time.
Kingdom of Ash spoilers
Tagging @itach-i @nestasbucket @manontrashbeak @blackhavilliard @bookishwitchling @jimetg98
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Part One: I Wish…
Part Two: Another Day
Part Three: Those Two Words
Part Four: Breakfast in Bed
Manon couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept.
On the rare nights when she actually fell asleep, it never lasted long. Dreams kept her from getting any rest. For every nightmare about the battle, she had mundane dreams that left her just as lonely and drained. Visions of the Thirteen yielding, conversations with Asterin or Dorian, or even the sister she’d killed. Memories from when she’d come of age and formed her coven. They plagued her each night.
As she struggled to come wake, Manon wondered exactly how long it had been. A year perhaps? Yes, definitely before the war. Which meant she just had her first full night’s sleep in about a year.
Opening her eyes to a dark room, her mind stumbled in groggy confusion as she tried to recognize her surroundings. A fire flickered from somewhere behind her, and there was a sliver of daylight coming through the curtains. Silky soft sheets caressed her bare skin as she rolled onto her back.
The Ferian Gap.
It was completely remade from the horrible place of valg infested men where she’d once lived. The rukhin were transforming the Omega into more of a home than a military outpost. She started to doze off again, reaching towards the other side of the bed for the warm body on which she’d fallen asleep.
When her fingers met nothing, she stretched further, thinking perhaps the bed was bigger than she’d remembered.
Manon jerked fully awake and sat up. Ignoring the clench in her gut and the rush of her pulse, she scanned the room for Dorian. But like the bed, it was empty.
The bathing room door hung open, showing no signs that he was in there. From where she still sat motionless in gloomy darkness, she couldn’t see any bags or clothing strewn across the furniture, or piled on the floor.
This reaction was irrational and stupid. And it was something she could not control. No matter how she tried to steady her breathing or reason out where he could be or hear above the formless ringing in her ears, her body refused to obey. Frustration wove itself into the fear and she bit her lip, trying to will the first tear from breaking free.
“Manon?”
She twisted towards the door, where Dorian now stood holding a tray piled high with plates and bowls. Strange aromas - spicy, savory, sweet - wafted through the air as he lightly kicked the door closed behind him.
She’d thought he’d left. Not to get them breakfast. But left. Gone.
Just the sight of him eased some of the pressure and gnawing ache in her chest. But the damned tears had not disappeared. One fell and she turned away before he could see it.
More tears threatened as she noticed one of his shirts crumpled on the bed, less than a foot away and within easy reach. It had escaped her search moments before. Manon grabbed it and threw it over her head. By the time she looked at him, her eyes were dry.
He still stood by the door, watching her, his brows knit in confusion and his gaze searching her inch by inch, like a flame on her skin. She thought about blaming her state on a nightmare, but she didn’t have the energy to lie.
For whatever reason, Dorian said nothing as he sat the tray on a table. An invisible lash of his magic opened the curtains to a bright sunny day. Squinting against the sudden light, Manon excused herself to the bathing room.
She saw to her needs quickly and returned to the bedroom. Dorian was rearranging what looked like days’ worth of food, spreading everything out on the table. When she pulled out a chair to sit, he shook his head and ushered her back to the freshly made bed.
“Breakfast in bed. Remember?”
Dorian was back to the table by the time she recalled their goodbye in Orynth, and the life he’d wished for them. Travel, no responsibilities, libraries for him, weapons for her, nights like the one they’d just shared, and yes, breakfast in bed.
Manon sat cross-legged and watched as he continued with his preparations. His very literal take on ‘breakfast in bed’ seemed silly. And potentially messy. But the sight of so many dishes distracted her from the thought. “How much do you think I eat?” she asked.
He laughed, and she knew from its lilting tone that he would not press her about what he’d walked in on. At least, not yet.
“I know how much you eat, but not what you eat. Or rather, what you like.” He raised a steaming silver kettle high above a mug and began to pour. “One of the cooks in the kitchen showed me how to do this properly,” he said, speaking slowly to concentrate on not spilling.
Most of the black liquid ended up in the mugs and he flashed her a grin that was irresistible. Relenting to his charm, Manon clapped, without too much sarcasm, and was instantly rewarded with an even brighter smile. Dorian brought the tray over and placed it on the top of the bed, then sat carefully across from her.
“I’ve never seen tea like this,” she said, looking down into a mug. Now more of a caramel color, the liquid was swirling with foam.
“That’s because it isn’t tea. It’s kahve. Milk and sugar are used to counter the bitterness.” Quickly, he added, “As I learned yesterday morning when I almost spat it out all over the table. Did I mention that I’ve made a wonderful first impression here?”
Manon laughed quietly, raised the mug, and inhaled. It smelled very good, like nothing she’d had before. Spicy and nutty, with other earthy scents she couldn’t quite place.
“What is your favorite food anyway?” he asked, handing her a napkin and utensils.
After so many years of eating only what was available - whatever game could be caught, the slop served here and then at Morath, travel and war rations - Manon didn’t have an answer. Like sleep, it was difficult to remember the last time she’d had a choice in what she ate. The food they had in the Wastes was nourishing and hearty, but nothing extravagant. Their options were limited by what they’d been able to grow in one season, or acquire through trade, which wasn’t much since they had little to offer in exchange.
“I don’t really know,” she admitted, feeling foolish as soon as the words were out of her mouth. “I don’t cook. Except for what I can catch. Game, fish. And this past year, we didn’t have a lot of variety.”
“Well, it’s good that I brought a little of everything then. Maybe something in here will become your favorite.”
“You made all of this?”
Sheepishly, he said, “No. I made some of it. Most are things imported from the Southern Continent that they keep stocked in the kitchens.” He took the napkin she’d done nothing with and spread it out over her lap, then began naming things as he pointed to each plate.
“Smoked and cured meats. Warning, some are spicy. A few different kinds of cheese. Olives.”
“I know what meat and cheese and olives are”, she said dryly, but Dorian ignored her.
“Dried mango, candied ginger...” He went on, naming a bunch of fruits from the Southern Continent that she’d never heard of. “Nothing fresh unfortunately but that’s the nature of bringing in food from so far away.”
Pointing to a still warm loaf covered in seeds and nuts, he said, “I believe you know what bread is.” Another laugh escaped her lips before she could hold it in. “Porridge,” he continued, lifting the lid off a bowl. “And to make it palatable,” three more containers were uncovered, “honey, orange jam, and yoghurt.”
Before he could tell her that the bowl of almonds did in fact contain almonds, she asked, “And what did you make?”
“Ah! The main course.” There was a large, oval platter in the middle of the tray, its contents hidden by a ceramic lid. With a flourish, he pulled it off and announced, “Eggs with cheese, ham, peppers, and tomatoes. I usually put different vegetables in it but I had to improvise.”
Manon examined the dish, bent over to smell it, then poked it with her fork. “It looks edible.”
“You won’t know until you try it,” he purred.
They had flocks of chickens at the Keep, so she ate eggs often. But unlike her normal breakfast, these were fluffy and light. At least the parts not drenched in melted cheese. Trying to get a little of everything, she gathered the egg concoction onto her fork and took a bite. He watched her like a hawk, waiting for any reaction, any tiny sign of enjoyment. Manon kept her face stonily flat as she chewed. Upon swallowing, she immediately reached for more.
Dorian leaned over and kissed her cheek. With the touch of his lips, she realized she was smiling.
Just as she began sampling the other food, he casually said, “Let’s play a game while we eat. A question for a question.”
Manon froze with her fork midway to her mouth. His eyes held the please he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, speak.
“I already asked one, so it’s your turn. We can’t give yes or no answers, and we each have the right to refuse...” He thought for a moment. “Three questions.”
She finished the jam laden bite of porridge. “Don’t we have to meet the Captain soon?”
“I saw Orghana already. She’s giving us the day to ourselves.” Manon arched a brow, to which Dorian innocently replied, “We got here early and they weren’t prepared for everything yet.”
She reached for her mug. The kahve was still steaming, almost too hot to hold, but she kept it cradled in her hands anyway. Warmth settled through her as she took a few tentative sips. It was good, she decided, savoring the sharp bite that came after the initial sweetness.
Dorian ate while she stalled. As she looked over the tray of food, at all he’d done, she decided she could at least try. He was giving her an out. Three of them, in fact.
“Okay.” Manon finally said, staring at him to gauge how far she could go in her questions. She remembered every single letter from him, every thought and confession. But there were things he hadn’t said that she’d wondered about.
“Now that you know more about your father, how he gave you his name, do you feel differently about him?”
***
Dorian almost choked on his kahve. As he cleared his throat, she watched with a mix of curiosity and apology. And just a hint of you asked for this.
“I was expecting something along the lines of ‘what is your favorite color’,” he joked, but she made no move to alter the question. Not that he’d expect her to. So, after some thought, he said, “When I think about him, it is... different than before. In some ways.”
His letters had contained almost everything – what he’d learned from Erawan, how he’d seen his father in the space between worlds, even the one or two details he’d managed to pull from his mother. But it had always been straightforward accounts of what had happened, never anything deeper.
“Honestly, I still hate him for what he did. All the people he hurt. But...” He’d never admitted this to anyone else, not even Chaol. “But there is love too, for his help in the end. For knowing he’d fought back as much as he could.”
Manon smiled. She had once tried to get him to consider that his father had not been his true self and perhaps didn’t deserve the full brunt of Dorian’s hate. But he’d refused.
“I wasn’t able to see that before,” he acknowledged. “And there are days when I can’t see past the destruction he left behind. When all I can focus on is the bad. But mostly, I pity him.” Manon listened to every word, almost greedily. It made him think this wasn’t just about him and his father. Yes, she wanted to know about that. But it was almost like there was a different question hidden within it. One she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, ask.
“I don’t know who he really was, let alone who he could have become. That’s what I wonder about more than anything. The what-ifs.” After a long pause, he admitted to something else he’d never said out loud. “Sometimes, when I have to make a difficult decision, I imagine what he might have done. The real him, not the valg. I wonder if I could have made him proud.” Shaking his head, he huffed a laugh. “I don’t know if any of that made sense.”
“It did.” Her voice was thoughtful and quiet, her eyes intense and glowing. A moment passed before she shifted her attention back to the food.
“My turn,” he said, giving her his most mischievous grin. Not giving her a chance to protest, he asked, “What is your favorite color?”
This time her laugh was a little louder, a little more joyful. After a few moments, she said, “I’ve never had a reason to think about it.” Manon looked around the room before stopping and fixating on his eyes. “Blue.”
Dorian’s grin softened. “Good answer, witchling.”
“The blue of the sky in the Wastes,” she amended, drinking more kahve. “Sometimes, when the clouds are just right, it looks like the horizon is on fire from the setting sun. There’s a moment right before it disappears, when the sky is a deep blue. But there’s still that tiny bit of sunlight that makes it bright and distinct from the black. It’s impossible to describe, but it’s one of the things I’ve come to love about the Wastes.” She narrowed her eyes. “What?”
He almost said it. Listening to her, watching her face glow at the picture her memory painted of sunsets in the Wastes, he almost said he loved her. But he didn’t.
That lit up joy was a harsh contrast to the sight of her earlier, panicked and gasping for air, tears filling her eyes. He’d told himself she’d just come out of a nightmare. Even though she’d slept deeply the entire night, hardly stirring. Even though when he’d left to get breakfast, she was still fast asleep.
Biting back the words he wanted to say, Dorian replied, "That’s a better answer.”
She smiled and reached for a pastry. “And yours, princeling?”
“I was never able to settle on a single favorite color growing up. It always changed. But, I’ve always been partial to red,” he said, lifting her braid to admire the bright ribbon of fabric securing the end. “And I like gold.” Nodding back to the sofa, the red and gold wyvern of the Havilliard crest stood out on his heavy cloak. “But not that shade.” He leaned over so he was barely an inch from her face. “This gold,” he said, looking into her eyes. “This is my favorite.”
Manon gifted him a soft smile, which he promptly committed to memory.
“My turn,” he said, sitting back and popping a sugared almond into his mouth. “How do you think the rukhin will take to wyverns?”
There was no pause this time as Manon said, matter of factly, “They won’t have any trouble flying once they adjust to the larger size, which won’t take long. But wyverns are different animals. Their dominance hierarchies are more complex than they appear. It’s not just about sex or size. Abraxos is proof of that.”
Dorian suspected the rider had quite a bit of influence over the mount, but he didn’t interrupt. Instead, he watched happily as she grew more animated while describing some of the training she had planned for the coming days. He knew the challenge - not the kahve - was the source of her excitement. Manon would be in her element here, and he couldn’t wait to see it.
***
He was staring at her again. Staring as if he’d never seen her before. Or, as if he wanted to toss the tray of food off the bed and continue where they’d left off last night. Or like he was on the verge of saying something.
Dorian’s face was usually like an open book to her. Sometimes she could see the writing clearly, other times, it was more like a picture book, only giving away broad strokes of the story. Right now, she knew he wanted to tell her something, but she didn’t know what.
As she reached for a pastry, Dorian picked up one of the larger treats and offered it to her. “Try this one first. I want to see if you like it.”
It was a square of golden dough, with corners pressed together in the middle, a dark filling, and sprinkles of large sugar crystals on top. Manon took it, but didn’t bite into it. “Trying to distract me from my next question?” she teased.
Dorian waved a hand. “Go ahead. Ask me anything.”
“Do you enjoy being a king?”
With an uncomfortable laugh, he said, “I’m going to reconsider playing these kinds of games with you in the future.”
The certainty in his voice, that they had a future together, made something in her relax. Manon hadn’t even known the tension was there, until it subsided.
“Yes, and no,” he said.
She waited for more and when he went back to eating, she sat the pastry down. “Answers cannot be yes or no,” she reminded him. He opened his mouth but she held up her hand. “And ‘yes, and no’ is the same thing as a singular yes, or a singular no.”
That grin was back, and Manon had to look away.
She’d told a partial lie earlier. Her favorite color was the blue of his eyes. It was why she loved the evening skies in the Wastes. In that flash of time before darkness, she was always reminded of his eyes. The sight of them now, ablaze with intensity, left Manon feeling utterly defenseless.
“I enjoy helping people. In some ways, I even enjoy that Adarlan is starting over. I wish it wasn’t because of war, but the chance to change things is exciting. It would be so much easier if I could just make proclamations and laws and see them done without the paperwork and meetings and politics.” He let out a heavy sigh. “If I never see another petition asking me to step in between two petty lords arguing over a border, I’d die happy.”
“Hmm. I never took you for a despot,” she mused.
“A benevolent despot,” he corrected. “Now, will you tell me what you think of that pastry?”
The smart ass had made it into a question. Manon huffed a laugh, then took a bite.
Her eyes flashed wide in surprise. “What is this?!”
“You’ve never had chocolate?”
“This is chocolate?” She ate the rest in one bite and grabbed another. “I’ve had something called chocolate but it didn’t taste like this. I’ve always wondered why people went crazy for it.”
He pushed the plate towards her, separating the chocolate pastries from the others. “They’re all yours,” he said. “I like the poppy seed myself.” Dorian selected one with a black, slightly gooey filling. “Try dipping yours in the kahve.”
She did, closing her eyes in pleasure. The flavors alone were amazing, but mixed together... She’d never tasted anything like it in her life.
“I think we found your favorite food. And drink,” he laughed. “I won’t make you give a verbal answer. This will suffice.”
Catching herself just before she spat out bits of the pastry, Manon started laughing too. He was beaming at her, just as he had when she’d first donned her crown so many months ago.
And just like that, unbidden and unwanted, memories flooded her mind. Images of the Thirteen, that battle, the yielding.
It was too much. Too many emotions coursed through her, twisting up with this sudden empty vulnerability. Manon didn’t know how to react, and before she could control it, her laugh turned into a choked sob. One moment she was actually happy, and the next, she was again forcing back tears.
***
Dorian made himself memorize everything about this moment. Manon, cross-legged on the bed, driving him mad by wearing his shirt, eating and drinking and laughing as if they had no cares in the world. As if they were the only two people alive.
But with no warning, no apparent reason, a shadow seemed to overtake her, and she was on the verge of tears.
He grabbed the tray and put it aside, returning to sit in front of her. “Manon?”
“Ask me when I last laughed,” she whispered shakily, staring down at her empty hands, open and lifeless in her lap.
His heart felt as though it were shattering, and he had no idea what to do. “It’s your turn,” he replied numbly, hating himself for being such a fool. For thinking this stupid breakfast could somehow fix things.
You can’t fix her.
Chaol’s words came back, almost a taunt in his head.
Cupping her cheek, he wiped away some of the tears before they fell. He knew the answer, but still, he asked, “When?”
“I don’t know,” she said, leaning into his touch. “I can’t remember ever laughing.”
“I’ve heard you laugh,” he said. “It’s my favorite sound.” He let go of her face to hold onto her now trembling hands.
“Some days are okay,” she went on, watching him rub her palms. “I can function, make decisions, force myself to seem normal. And other days, most days, it’s like I’m wading through a fog.” Her shoulder rose in a half-hearted shrug before she curled in on herself. “I must look normal though. No one says anything. No one notices.”
For a split second, Dorian was flung back in time to when he’d been imprisoned by the valg collar. No one had questioned its presence, his behavior. He’d felt so alone, so lost, he’d wished for death.
But Manon had noticed. She had seen the real him hiding within, and for some reason, she’d deemed him worthy of living. Enough to risk her life to try and save his.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “When you didn’t write, I should have known. I should have come.” Instead, godsdamn him, he’d let his doubts and insecurities get the better of him.
“It’s ok,” she said flatly.
“No, it’s not.”
A shadow flitted across her face, along with that wariness from last night. “I’m tired,” she said, bringing an end to the conversation.
You can’t fix her.
Maybe not, Dorian thought. But he wouldn’t give up on her again.
As she lay down, he reached for a blanket and threw it over them both. Underneath, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against him. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered into her ear. “And I won’t let you go.”
He felt a slight nod of her head, the release of a held breath, and within minutes, she was asleep.
***
For the second time today, Manon awoke dazed in a dimly lit room and had to remind herself where she was.
And for the second time ever, she awoke to the presence of a strong, solid body pressed against her back, an arm draped over her waist, and warm, steady breaths caressing her skin where Dorian nuzzled her neck.
The morning they had parted in Orynth had been the first.
Somehow knowing she was awake, he kissed her shoulder. “I’m here, witchling.”
Manon pulled her arm out from under his and took his hand. With their fingers interlaced, she brought it to her chest, forcing him to shift even closer. Then she fell back to sleep.
To be continued...
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Otomatik Tente
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Göçmen Börekçisi EMİNÖNÜ MERKEZ, İSTANBUL otomatik tente
Keyf-i Mekan Lounge BATI ATAŞEHİR, İSTANBUL otomatik tavan
Scarlet Steakhouse Lounge ETİLER MERKEZ, İSTANBUL otomatik branda Otomatik Tente m2 Fiyatları
Food Time Cafe Lounge BEŞİKTAŞ MERKEZ, İSTANBUL kayar tavan
Lotus Cafe & Shop BALAT, İSTANBUL açılır tavan
Chicken Suit BAKIRKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL kapanır tavan
Hayali Hacivat BEŞİKTAŞ MERKEZ, İSTANBUL istanbul otomatik pergole
Mükellef THE HAZE İSTANBUL, KARAKÖY, BEYOĞLU, İSTANBUL istanbul otomatik pergola
Raylı Otomatik Tente m2 Fiyatları
Kaşıbeyaz Bosphorus YENİKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL raylı tente
Armada Teras Restaurant SULTANAHMET, İSTANBUL Otomatik Tente m2 Fiyatları
Vogue AKARETLER, İSTANBUL otomatik pergole ışıklı açılır tente
VUE Lounge & Bar HYATT REGENCY BAKIRKÖY, İSTANBUL ışıklı branda
Kosmos BEŞİKTAŞ MERKEZ, İSTANBUL kayar tente
360 İstanbul TAKSİM, İSTANBUL kumandalı tente
Midpoint TAKSİM, İSTANBUL otomatik pergala
Veranda Pera ASMALIMESCİT, İSTANBUL otomatik pergole
Sur Balık Restaurant ARNAVUTKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL otomatik tente
Bebek Bar – BEBEK, BEŞİKTAŞ, İSTANBUL otomatik tavan
Borgo Kitchen Bar ULUS, İSTANBUL otomatik branda
Mikla Restaurant THE MARMARA PERA, ASMALIMESCİT, BEYOĞLU, İSTANBUL
kayar tavan
Suvla KANYON AVM, LEVENT, İSTANBUL açılır tavan
Sunset Grill & Bar ULUS, İSTANBUL kapanır tavan
Summit Bar and Terrace CONRAD BEŞİKTAŞ, İSTANBUL istanbul otomatik pergole
Bleu Lounge THE RİTZ-CARLTON BEYOĞLU, İSTANBUL istanbul otomatik pergola
Hobo Kitchen Bar ORTAKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL raylı tente
Ravouna 1906 Terrace & Bar RAVOUNA 1906 HOTEL, TAKSİM, BEYOĞLU, İSTANBUL, ışıklı tente
Peninsula Teras Restaurant KARAKÖY, İSTANBUL ışıklı açılır tente
Leb-i DeryaTAKSİM, İSTANBUL ışıklı branda
Konak Cafe GALATA, İSTANBUL
Otomatik Tente m2 Fiyatları
Divan Brasserie TAKSİM, İSTANBUL kumandalı tente
Lacivert Restaurant ANADOLU HİSARI MERKEZ, İSTANBUL otomatik pergala
Handmade Burger Company KADIKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL otomatik pergole
Antiochia ASMALIMESCİT, İSTANBUL otomatik tente
Yıldız Hisar RUMELİ HİSARI MERKEZ, İSTANBUL otomatik tavan
Nusr-Et Burger KANYON AVM, LEVENT, İSTANBUL otomatik branda
Lulu Hookah Lounge – Anjer KABATAŞ, İSTANBUL kayar tavan
Adem Baba ARNAVUTKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL açılır tavan
Duble Meze Bar ASMALIMESCİT, İSTANBUL kapanır tavan
Abdülkadir Restaurant BAKIRKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL istanbul otomatik pergole
Akın Balık KARAKÖY, İSTANBUL istanbul otomatik pergola
Teos Beach Club KINALIADA, İSTANBUL raylı tente
Ceviz Ağacı KOŞUYOLU, İSTANBUL ışıklı tente
Çeşme Bazlama Kahvaltı NİŞANTAŞI, İSTANBUL ışıklı açılır tente
Piraye Taş Plak Meyhanesi KADIKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL ışıklı branda
Antica Locanda ARNAVUTKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL kayar tente
P.F. Chang’s ATAŞEHİR, İSTANBUL kumandalı tente
Baltazar KARAKÖY, İSTANBUL otomatik pergala
Chelsea Tea House ÜSKÜDAR, İSTANBUL otomatik pergole
OD46 MODA, İSTANBUL otomatik tente
Cha’ya Galata ŞİŞHANE, İSTANBUL otomatik tavan
La Scarpetta ETİLER MERKEZ, İSTANBUL otomatik branda
Cadıköy KADIKÖY MERKEZ, İSTANBUL kayar tavan
Baylan BEBEK, İSTANBUL açılır tavan
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