Sarah J. Mass One Shots

Princeling

The queen of Adarlan smiles at her child, as she sits in the royal chambers, on a squishy couch.

Her iron teeth snap into place, and the little baby reached up to play with them.

She had her dads eyes. Bright sapphire blue.

Not even a fleck of gold.

Mannon supposed it was a good thing, because sometimes, she would hate her own eyes after Erewan had shown up with them.

Dorian had smiled at the baby the moment that she had entered the world.

It had been horrible giving birth, but the little child was worth it.

Mannon had undone her braid when they got home from the hospital, and tied the red band around the baby's wrist.

The baby had just cooed at the red, but Dorian had kissed her. He knew, goddess, he always knew.

"How are my two favorite witches?" Dorian asks from the doorway, his midnight black hair tousled, shrugging off his cloak.

"We're good baby, how was the council?"

"Same old garbage."

He swoops in and plants a kiss on his wife's forehead, before plucking Mayla from her hands.

She raises an eyebrow and gives him an iron smile.

He laughs and sits down in the chair across from her.

Mayla reaches up for her dad, gurgling happily. He places a finger in her little hand, staring at his child with so much love in his eyes.

Dorian had taken to parenting very well, but Mannon had not. Once she had almost forgot to feed her all day. She would leave her weapons around, and ignore the little one for hours.

Mannon wasn't trying to be a bad parent, she was just used to being alone.

Her and Dorian had only been married after they found out about the baby.

Dorian looks up from his giggling daughter, finishing some baby game mannon would be bad at.

"What's on your mind witchling?"

"You're a perfect dad," she whispers, "and I'll never be a good mom."

Dorian stands cautiously, walking over to place the child in her crib.

He sits back down right next to his wife before planting a kiss on her lips.

"Mannon, I wouldn't want anyone else to be the mother of my child."

She frowns at him, before moving closer to him.

A few years ago, she would have never been able to imagine a child, or a husband, or anyone to love and call her own. But here she was, in the stone castle.

Mannon rests her head on the kings shoulder, and he sends ghost hands to brush her hair back, before he kisses her.

Slow and passionate, a kiss that goes on for ever, but can never last long enough. She moves over to straddle him.

Dorian pulls her against him, using his ghost hands to unbutton her shirt.

Mannon knew he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her immortal life with. The perfect man for her.

Her beloved princeling.

Sorry it's so short. Hope you like this manorian head cannon.

Word count: 495