manorian oneshots and hcs

4 - dancing

A/N: Sorry about being so painfully slow with my writing rn, i have some pretty major exams going on and they're kinda taking up most of my time... yippee! Anyways have this as an apology. 

☆Summary☆
Manon fears she won't be ready for the wedding, and this all leads up to her and Dorian having some major heart to heart (I LOVE THEM SO MUCH) and it transpires she doesn't know how to dance - so naturally Dorian decides to teach her - following a very long introduction.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･''･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Manon smiled as Abraxos neared the Ferian Gap. It was the day of her monthly visit to the mountains of Adarlan, going so regularly to check on the wyverns... and also maybe to see Dorian. Actually maybe only to see Dorian - although she'd never admit that to anyone, least of all him. She knew he would never, ever let her forget it if she did.

Dorian had ensured that he would wipe all traces of the Valg presence from the desolate mountain area, and she was glad to see from her high vantage point that he had kept his vow. In fact, as she looked down she saw that the region actually almost looked kind of... good? Well, maybe not good, but it did seem to be thriving. It made a lot of sense. The formation and training of Adarlan's aerial legion had called for hundreds of people, for all sorts of roles, and Manon supposed it made sense that all of the small villages she flew over had sprung up.

As she neared the peak on which the aerie was somehow miraculously balanced, she caught site of metal reflecting the sunlight, as a young rider Manon didn't recognise waved Abraxos over to the landing square. Manon hopped of Abraxos quickly, moving towards his snout to thank him for the journey. The Wastes to the Ferian Gap wasn't exactly strenuous for her loyal mount, but she still gave him some loving strokes, and some jerky she had in a pack attached to her saddle.

The person who had directed her walked over from where they had stood near the dizzying drop, sporting a blue cape adorned with a red wyvern, the sign of a rider in His Majesty's Aerial Legion... or 'Dorian's flight club' as Bronwen liked to call it. The rider stopped before Manon, bowing low, and then rising to face her again. "Your Majesty. I hope the journey here wasn't too bad? I know sometimes the last bit over the mountains can get slightly stormy," the person gestured behind them to where a small grey wyvern was curled up, "Alia can get quite skittish when the weather's rough. I'm Raya. Apologies that the general wasn't here to meet you like usual, he had some urgent family business to attend to." Manon nodded, looking back out towards where the sun was setting over the peaks. She opened her mouth to reply, but Raya was already speaking. "I can't believe it's sunset already. Don't worry though," they shot Manon a mischevious look, "you won't have to make awkward conversation with me for very long. His Majesty is set to arrive any moment now. His Majesty being uh, King Dorian. If that wasn't clear."
Manon smiled, turning back to Raya and raising a brow. "Thank you for clarifying."

"Anyway!" Raya turned back to another rider who had been petting Alia behind them, rapidly trying to move on, "Adrien, do you know when His Majesty is set to arrive?"

Adrien looked up from where he was, and grinned. "His Majesty is already meant to be here. Although I do vaguely remember a letter he sent, in which he said to tell Queen Manon that he had suffered through some life-threatening accident if he were late, so as to avoid having to tell her that he has poor time management skills." Adrien turned his gaze to Manon, inclining his head and then smiling. "So, Queen Manon, I hate to inform you that His Majesty is only running late because he has had an absolutely terrible accident. Supposedly something awful happened in Rifthold," Raya snorted as Adrian shook his head woefully, "truly terrible news."