they keep the bad at bay101.179.239.202Posted On November 07, 2017 at 2:08 PM by Dorian Aragona

The Sun Also Rises

It was an entirely silly thing, surely, to miss someone who was no more than a few rooms away and yet Dorian had become hopelessly and unashamedly used to Sebastian’s near constant presence. He was entirely capable of that independence when he chose it and yet he so hardly enjoyed it in any sense. The Fae King having come to resent that office over the past evening or so if only for the very fact it required him to spend several hours away from his fiancé with his mind turned to those far less pleasing ideals of independence and Spanish policy and government rule. The world had, once, been significantly easier he was sure. Perhaps the days in which his own Father ruled had been seen as far darker, that lack of sanitation and health and the threat of famine and war were constant worries. Kings had played something of a game of thrones to maintain their rule and yet too- they had held far more freedom in a sense to rule effectively without policies and metaphorical red tape and government bureaucracy. Dorian, those past few days, having been forced to learn just what all of it meant and how it might apply to him. How many new words he had learned! Yet how very unsatisfying words they were. Dorian assured that if nothing else his English and Spanish would only improve all the more by the end of it.

Sebastian’s appearance within that doorway was an entirely welcomed distraction. The vampire’s mere presence so having a habit of quickening that beat of his heart in simple anticipation, Dorian oblivious to Sebastian’s own realisation of that very change in rhythm as that glorious grin found his features. Those words of appreciation readily upon his lips as that soft chuckle left his lovers own. Sebastian assuring him that while they surely had one another each night- it was hardly every night he prepared that cocoa. Dorian so allowing both eyes to lift in that moment in that near teasing surprise as his own chuckle seemed to hum softly from within his throat. Those accented words finding him once more in that ever teasing tone.

You made this, Mon Cher? You cooked in the kitchen for me? You truly must love me.”

It was a decidedly rare thing, after all, for either one of them to actually cook. Such tasks more often than not left to Charles or Elizabeth if only for the simple fact neither Sebastian nor himself were terribly prone to eating and as such neither of them was perhaps truly skilled in the preparation of food beyond those basic dishes. Dorian allowing that playful simper to find his lips before eagerly accepting that offered kiss that was, he was assured, far too fleeting for his own liking and yet surely he might coax that furthered affection from his lover later. His finger lifted to sweep carefully through that cream as Sebastian settled at his side, that finger slipped between his lips to lick that sweet substance from it with a clear appreciation for that taste. It was that simple inquiry as to just how Catalonia was going that managed to stir that frown to his features. Dorian assured the rouge state was the result of his headache those past few evenings. The Monarch promptly announcing that he was no longer speaking to Catalonia at all- as if the nation was akin to a being he had fallen out with. In fact, he saw little need to engage with that entire affair for the rest of the evening. That decision seeing him turn within that chair to flick off that monitor before his phone followed suit. Dorian content to announce that such measures as that, surely, would provide for a more enjoyable evening. The Fae King sipping contentedly at that drink then before Sebastian’s mention off his permanently flustered PA saw that small touch of amusement find him again.

“The poor woman will give herself a heart attack regardless. I threatened to turn off my phone yesterday, I am quite assured she will know just what I have done. She is likely to phone you or poor Charles and Elizabeth before she drives over in the least. You can assure her of my state of wellbeing when she does.”

That almost knowing grin so found its way to his lips then. Dorian well aware of Emma’s tendency to try every avenue to reach him even when he had informed her explicitly that he did not desire to be reached in any sense. Dorian quite assured that woman rung Sebastian’s phone in those moments if only because that British politeness instilled within his lover seemed to result in the vampires near inability to blatantly ignore someone. The Fae King so having come to find such a trait terribly endearing in Sebastian all the same. Dorian shifted easily then, the man near slumping in that chair in a manner decidedly unroyal as that hot chocolate rested atop his chest and yet this was but the first time all evening he had simply….stopped. Dorian content to acknowledge that he almost felt tired. The man simply enjoying that sweet treat for several moments, his legs shifting to press against Sebastian’s own in that simple need for the mans touch before inquiring over that guest list that the entire household had so been attempting to press Sebastian into completing. That soft assurance that the vampire had finally finished it seeing the return of that grin to his own lips, Dorian commenting upon the sheer number of guests they had in attendance to that ceremony. Thank heavens that basilica was so entirely large else they would surely have ceased to fit them all! Sebastian’s mention of those members of the public whom would be in unofficial attendance, that look of contemplation adorning the Fae King’s own features then.

“Heavens but we are going to have to close down the streets if we even hope to make it to the church ourselves! I did not consider the public. Do you know we have already begun receiving wedding gifts? I’ve not opened any yet though, I thought you might enjoy assisting me.”

After all, Sebastian’s assistance in opening that fan mail had been by far the most pleasurable assistance he had ever been offered, even if it had been largely unproductive in every sense. Dorian wholly content to remember that evening with a terribly great fondness even now. That simper resting upon his lips before that mention of a needed date to afford the wedding co-ordinator was interrupted by that scrambling of paws. Maxwell yet to master the decorum of entering a room and merely allowing his presence to speak for him. That ever-delighted puppy launching himself at the Italian Fae he had been denied the sight off all evening with that clear demand to have him acknowledge that pilfered sock Dorian so instantly identified as Sebastian’s own. That soft chuckle rose from within him then, his fingers reaching down to snatch the other end of that sock, engaging the puppy in that tug-of-war game that he would, one day, surely defeat Dorian in every single time. Sebastian’s mention of those toys prompting a nod from himself.

“Yes I think we ought to. I suspect he is teething. The books said to expect this.”

He offered simply, Dorian pulling that puppy forward only to let the little creature tug furiously back on that sock. The Monarch having read several of those books on puppy care in the wake of Maxwell’s impromptu arrival in their home. Dorian taking his care decidedly seriously even if he was rather assured Charles and Elizabeth, in the least, found his level of dedication amusing. It was that talk of weddings, however, that prompted the mention of that singular gift of sorts he had for his lover. One that had taken several weeks of meticulous planning and no small measure of anxiety on his part to complete. Dorian so at last satisfied with those results enough to present the man with that singular and yet significant token of their upcoming union. His lover’s query of whether or not they might have a late autumn or winter wedding momentarily distracting his thoughts, his own features frowning softly in consideration.

“It does not snow in Naples, the air may be a little crisp, especially in the evening- but those longer hours of darkness might well be required. I do not think our wedding day would be an ideal time to test the limits of my powers for shielding you from the sun. I think an autumn or winter wedding is an ideal suggestion. With the amount of people attending I think perhaps that body heat shall keep them warm all the same.”

That hint of amusement so found his words once more then, Dorian chuckling softly before releasing the end of that now partially shredded sock to afford Maxwell that victory, that warm simper finding his features before another sip of that delightful drink was taken and his silver gaze turned to that calendar resting beside him on the desk. The Monarch momentarily pensive once more as he considered those dates before him.

“It is autumn in Italy now which means the soonest time we could be married would be this coming February, that would be late winter, affording us those extended hours and yet it would not be quite so cold. That would give us about three months to finish planning. Either that or we could look at the late autumn of this time next year, say October or November?”

His gaze lifted easily away from that calendar then, his attention return to Sebastian in full, Dorian so seeking the man’s preference in just when he might like that ceremony to take place. Dorian rather assured such an event could be made to occur successfully within three months or twelve, a large portion of that planning already taken care off as it was. Their preference in this alone surely that deciding factor, Dorian finishing the last of that hot chocolate then before easing himself from that chair. One hand held suddenly out to Sebastian then, Dorian content to entwine his fingers within his lovers own- that almost impish smile finding his features.

“Come, let us go down to the living room. I should like to give you something terribly important and I should not like to do it in the presence of Catalonia.”

His head nodded once more to that computer and those mounds of paperwork that surrounded it. Dorian quite assured he had grown tired of that room altogether.

Dorian Aragona


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