#so like in modern au before Dorian came into the picture it was Asterin who would literally fight anyone who hurt Manon

[pergaminaa]

I dunno why but in my brain Asterin is always taller than Manon. Manon is like 5’7 (same height as Aelin) but Asterin? She’s probably 5’10 or 5’11 she just has this tall energy. And also I think it’s because of what she represents to Manon? She’s her light, her lifeline, her support. Asterin is someone Manon can lean on and she will never let her down. She’s always there to support her, to guide her, to call her out when she’s fucking up and also— she’s always there to protect her.

Fuck, I’m going to cry now. But yes Asterin is definitely taller than Manon this is all I’m saying here.

[rufousnmacska]

Museum Day

A modern manorian au request

Part 1

Part 2

___

Part 3

The bar was unexpectedly full for a Thursday night and when Dorian opened the door, several people had to step aside to let him through. Loud and boisterous, cheering and booing as one, the crowd was focused solely on whatever championship game was on the big screen. Rifthold never made it into the playoffs of any sports, so their presence in the final tonight meant the bar was packed and Manon was working.

Too busy pouring beers, she didn’t see him come in. But the man working beside her did. He hadn’t been here the night Dorian first met Manon. His long, dark hair was pulled back and Dorian could see all the features he’d passed on to his daughter, including his unusual golden eyes. Those eyes were inspecting him now, taking in the expensive clothes and styled hair. Dorian smiled politely, trying to interpret the look, but the man was inscrutable. Someone ordered a drink and Dorian finally escaped her father’s gaze.

As he waded through the crowd to where Manon was working, he spotted her cousin. She was walking towards him, arms full of glasses and dishes, when she stopped and pointed her chin at him. “Art guy, right?”

“I’m Dorian,” he said, yelling slightly to be heard over the noise, and hoping to disguise his disappointment that she didn’t already know his name. “I’d shake your hand, but that’s not a good idea. Can I help?”

She huffed a thankful breath and held her arms out for him to take a stack of pint glasses. “I’m Asterin. It’s nice to meet you. Officially, I mean. Unofficially, I know everything about you.” She grinned and winked before moving past him towards the kitchen.

Dorian found himself smiling too as he followed her. Manon finally saw him as he passed the end of the bar. Her puzzled expression at his appearance was, for lack of a better word, so adorable, that he wished he could have taken a picture. He paused before the swinging door and shouted, “Asterin recruited me.”

Manon glanced over at her father, who was waiting on people at the other end of the bar.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked, more quietly this time. He should have called before showing up out of the blue. Although they’d talked often, they’d only seen each other once since she’d let him and his brother stay at her place. Dorian’s efforts to free himself and Hollin from his uncle’s grasp had wreaked havoc on his already hectic class schedule. And her work schedule was just as bad. But after the interview had gone so well, she was the first person he wanted to tell.

“No,” she said. “The game is almost over and things should quiet down soon.”

“Okay. I’ll stay out of the way.”

With a fearsome point of her finger, she said, “Don’t let Asterin boss you around!”

Dorian gave her a look saying it was way too late for that and headed into the kitchen. Asterin was instantly there, plucking the glasses from his grasp and setting them in the dishwasher. When it was loaded, she turned around to examine him.

“I can turn around,” he joked. “Mr. Blackbeak gave me the once over when I came in, but he only saw the front.”

Asterin laughed and looked as if she was going to say sure. But instead, she said, “Mr. Crochan. Manon uses her mother’s name. I wouldn’t want you to screw things up right off the bat.”

“Oh shit, thank you,” he said. “That would’ve been bad.”

“Nah, he’s easy to get along with actually,” she said. “Just protective of Manon.” Her eyes narrowed and she pointed at him. “We all are. So, princeling or not, you better not hurt her.”

Solemnly, he said, “I promise.”

Asterin gave him another once over before declaring, “Okay, you’ve passed my test.”

Laughing, he asked, “How did I do that?”

“How will I do that,” she corrected, looking pointedly at the dishwasher, then back at him.

Dorian found a clean spot to put his portfolio down, then joined her. “What do I do?”

“First, you need an apron. I’d hate to mess up your pretty suit.���

*****

Asterin had been running back and forth to the kitchen like a mad woman, going in with dirty dishes and returning immediately with clean ones to put behind the bar. She’d refused to answer Manon’s questions about where Dorian had disappeared to, or what she’d saddled him with.

When she finally had a free moment, she headed back into the kitchen. Dorian was standing at the sink, working his way through a stack of plates. The kitchen wasn’t big enough to offer a full menu. Or even a half menu. But her dad had partnered with the pizza place next door so their food could be ordered here.

“I thought I told you not to let Asterin suck you into this,” Manon said. She’d silently walked up behind him, and at the sound of her voice, so close to his ear, Dorian flinched and dropped a plate on the floor.

He swore and picked up the pieces, only to find her grinning at him. “You did that on purpose!”

Ignoring the accusation, she asked, “How did it go?”

Tossing the broken dish into the trash and wiping his hands on his damp, dirty apron, he said, “You are looking at the new intern for Adarlan Architects.”

Before she could congratulate him, her father stuck his head in the door. “Manon, get out here!” When he saw Dorian, and what he was doing, Tristan gave a brief nod - of greeting or approval, she couldn’t tell - then disappeared.

On her way back out, Manon said, “We’ll have to celebrate. Something better than washing dishes in a bar.”

The next day, when he wanted to go to the museum, she wondered if she’d made a mistake in leaving the method of celebration up to him. She loved the museum, but she’d been volunteering a lot in addition to her normal hours. This was her first day off in a long time that she’d planned to avoid the place.

Coming through the rotating door, Dorian took her hand and pulled her to the left. Towards the entrance to the art museum.

“Have you ever been through this side?”

“Once. For the employee orientation,” Manon admitted, expecting disappointment or annoyance. But his face lit up with excitement.

“Well then, can I interest you in a tour?”

“It’s your party,” she said. “But, I don’t know any tour guides who hold the visitor’s hand.”

Leading her into the first gallery, Dorian smirked. “Things are done a little differently on my tours.”

“I suppose I’ll need to choose a favorite piece?” Glancing around the room, all she saw were a bunch of dark, drab paintings hanging on the walls. Boring portraits of old men, groups of old men, and more old men. A few naked women. Cynically, she wondered if any of the artwork would be of naked men.

“Your grimace tells me the Xandrian style is not for you.”

Heat radiated over her cheeks and she cringed. “Was it that obvious?”

Dorian tilted his head and stared at her. The flush of her skin grew hotter under his gaze and Manon wanted to turn away, but she crossed her arms and stayed put.

Finally, he said, “I think I know what you’ll like. But in the interest of giving a proper tour, we’re not skipping things. Figuring out what you dislike and why can help you better appreciate the things you do like.”

Manon knew nothing about art, and had never been interested in it. During her orientation tour of this wing, she’d ignored most of what was said, relegating it to mindless nonsense. Give her the concrete science of bones and minerals and anatomy over the ever-changing interpretations and feelings of art any day. Though, paleontology involved its own kind of interpretation. Yes, it was science. But unless someone developed a time machine, there was no way to be 100% certain of what these animals looked like or how they lived. So, in some ways, science demanded just as much creativity as the arts.

As Dorian began to talk about the paintings in the first gallery, she tried to keep an open mind and follow his advice, thinking about what aspects she didn’t like and what, if any, she did.

*****

The route through the art museum had been circuitous and he’d doubled back through a few galleries. But Dorian wanted to save the exhibit he thought Manon might appreciate for last. While she’d enjoyed some of the sculptures, not a surprise based on her preferred subject, she hadn’t expressed much interest in the broad collection of paintings. Her eyes widened at a few, but he was counting on the next room to blow her away.

Letting her walk in first, Dorian held his breath, waiting for her reaction.

The room was smaller than most, displaying works by a single artist. Darkly painted walls and focused lighting gave off an air of neutral elegance that worked well with the art. Huge landscape paintings using bright colors and simple strokes surrounded them: towering mountain peaks glowing in the sunrise, sinuous rivers meandering through wide valleys, and skies filled with billowing clouds that seemed to be alive with movement. They possessed a wild, windy sort of beauty that he had come to associate with her.

Trying not to stare too intently, Dorian watched Manon slowly walk around the room. She stopped in front of each painting. Ever so faintly, her neutral mask was starting to break. But before he could claim victory, she turned a corner and didn’t come back.

He found her in front of one of the smaller pieces, and the only one with figures. At the foot of soaring, snow-capped mountains, a man was leaving his home, leaving a woman and child behind. Eyes wide and glistening, Manon looked at it for a very long time. Dorian retreated to a bench, leaving her alone with the painting and her thoughts.

When she finally joined him, he made no mention of the tears ready to spill down her cheeks, and made no move to hug her, even though he desperately wanted to.

“I never knew my mother,” she said, speaking so softly he had to lean closer. “She died when I was born and I was raised by my grandmother. I didn’t even know my father until I was 16.”

Unable to resist, Dorian slowly placed a hand on her back. It was a light touch, until she sank backwards an inch or two, resting against it.

“My grandmother was...” she shivered before continuing. “She was not a good person. She framed my dad for dealing drugs and managed to get custody of me. But she told me I was unwanted. Abandoned. And it was her bad luck to raise me. She...” Manon paused, then took a deep, steadying breath. “She was very good at finding your weakest points, digging her claws in, and not letting go. And while she was feeding me lies, she was telling my father I was ashamed of him, that I wanted nothing to do with him. Asterin had it worse.” She stopped abruptly, perhaps realizing how much truth she’d just laid bare to him. “We survived it somehow. When I tracked down my dad and learned the truth, Asterin and I left and came here. His family took us in.” She smiled then and added, “It’s a big family. Lots of cousins.”

Dorian said nothing, trying to take it all in. Trying to comprehend how difficult it was for her to speak about, how much he appreciated her trust. Trying not to angrily ask about the grandmother who’d abused her.

Manon wiped her face dry. “She died two years ago. When we heard, Asterin and I planned to celebrate. But we just cried.” She faced him, her eyes downcast. “We just hugged each other and cried.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said, not knowing what else to say. It seemed to be enough as she tilted sideways against him, letting him shift his arm to wrap around her shoulders.

“That painting. He doesn’t want to leave them. You can’t see their expressions, but you can tell. He already misses them and he’s not even gone.”

He looked back up and immediately saw what she meant. The goodbye held a terrible finality that none of the figures seemed to want. But for whatever reason, had to go through with.

“How did you know I’d like these?”

Dorian laughed softly. “Something about these paintings made me think of you.”

“What was your favorite?” she asked, changing the course of the conversation away from herself.

He looked around the room. “I love this style. The simplicity and use of color. But I think my absolute favorites are the goddess statues.”

Manon rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile. “The naked ones.”

“They weren’t all naked.” Judging from her eyebrow, she didn’t believe him. “And it’s not because they’re naked,” he protested. “You have to admit the carvings were incredible. The way the marble looked like living flesh and muscle. I honestly don’t know how they did it.”

She relented. “Okay. Yes, they were beautiful.”

“You’ve never told me what exhibit is your favorite in the natural history wing.”

Pink spread across her cheeks and she quirked her mouth to keep from smiling. “The pterosaurs.”

Dorian grinned, wide and victorious. He didn’t quite know what he’d won, but it felt like a victory. Like yet another thing connecting them together. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”

She made a noise that could have been agreement and pulled him up when she stood. As they made their way back through the maze of galleries, she asked, “Do you have to get home to Hollin now?”

“No,” Dorian said. “He’s staying with a friend all weekend.” She didn’t say anything more, though he sensed she wanted to. “Why?” He pulled her closer and whispered, “Do you have more ways to celebrate my huge success?”

Laughing, she gestured to their surroundings and said, “I’ll admit, you didn’t go the route I was expecting. But that’s not what I meant.” They were outside now and she stopped to tug a wool hat over her head. Avoiding his gaze, she asked, “I thought maybe you’d like to meet my dad? Maybe have dinner?”

The way she asked it told Dorian this was something she didn’t normally do, if ever. He’d missed officially meeting Mr. Crochan last night at the bar. After berating Asterin for kidnapping him, Manon had pulled him out of the kitchen shortly before the place closed and walked him outside. Her father was busy talking to some people in the corner and he missed Dorian’s exit completely. Despite her enthusiasm about meeting up today, and knowing how much she guarded her privacy, he’d gone home feeling a little hurt.

But that hurt was completely forgotten with her invitation.

Her expression was a little wary, so Dorian said simply, “Yes.” This seemed new for her and he didn’t want to make her feel more uncomfortable by pulling some I’d be honored to meet your father speech, even if that was exactly how he felt. But he added, “As long as he doesn’t insist on pineapple pizza.”

Her laugh rang through the air, musical and lovely. And for that moment, the crowd surrounding them disappeared. No shrieking kids, no busy sidewalks, no loud traffic. Only the two of them seemed to exist.

Looking at him as if she sensed it too, she leaned over and kissed his cheek. When he no longer felt the softness of her lips on his skin, the moment passed and they were once again in front of a bustling city street. With hands held tight, they made their way into the crowd.

*****

Epilogue

He should have checked his bag rather than try to stuff so much into a carry-on. The couple glaring at him as he tried to dislodge it from the overhead compartment was quickly losing their patience. But Dorian just ignored them, gave a final tug, and freed his luggage. In moments he’d be seeing Manon. With his own eyes, not on a screen.

They’d only been apart for five months, but it had been the longest five months of his life.

Getting access to his trust fund and full custody of Hollin had set him back two semesters. Which was fine. Except that part way through, Manon was accepted to grad school at the University of the Wastes. A dream come true that came with a tarnished silver lining. They’d be in two different cities on opposite ends of the continent until he graduated.

Now, with Hollin settled in a good boarding school on the west coast, and his degree in hand - a degree not chained to any one location - they could finally be together.

Finally, he thought, patting the tiny box in his pocket.

That would have to wait though, until her family visited next month.

On the flight, he’d watched the scenery change from forested mountains to rolling, grassy plains, but it still hadn’t prepared him for what he saw when he stepped off the plane. He was struck by the immensity of the Wastes, the wind and wide open sky, the distant hills that were full of fossils. And then by her.

Manon ran to meet him and he dropped his bag. They held each other as if it had been years and they’d been oceans apart.

Lifting her off her feet, Dorian rasped, “God I missed you!”

Manon laughed, and when he put her down she wore a smile he’d never seen before, full of light and joy. “Welcome home, princeling.”

The end :)

*****

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(painting: Remember, by Nicholas Roerich 1924)