every king had a story, of ancient glory,sweetly told

The other mans assurance that he had failed to complete that business with his own father was met with a simple nod. After all, he supposed, those affairs mattered little now and even then they had hardly been his own business- his father had made sure of that. He had been curious of Andras once, the man one of the very few Fae he had met in his childhood and yet Ferdinand had gone to great lengths to keep the pair apart during the fellows stay within Caserta. Those few things he had learned of Andras in that time however, had inclined him to the man all the same. The Andras he remembered was personable, pleasant and largely diplomatic- at least by his own opinion. The being he was presented with now appeared perhaps a little more guarded then he recalled and yet much had surely changed in that time and those years. Dorian content to refrain from any quick judgement just yet. The Monarch offering instead his own reasons behind hardly choosing to convert any of his own family into Fae. Perhaps, had he known of just how it was done when his Mother was still alive he might well have considered saving her and yet even Matteo had declared it too late. Still, outside of the woman whom had given birth to him he cared particularly little for those blood relatives, at least, not enough to bestow immortality on them and too- though he hardly saw need to admit it to Andras, the process of that conversion was....abhorrent to him. No part of Dorian believing he was capable of inflicting such pain on another and at his hands.

He fell easily into step with the other man, brushing off concern for those guards, assured the other man would do the same. After all, they were merely doing their job and indeed were practised in remaining inconspicuous and unobtrusive while keeping their eyes upon the duo. It was Andras' inquiry as to what had befallen his palace that prompted that look pf contemplation to his own features. Those memories hardly welcome within his mind, his expression surely displaying it and yet he afforded his newfound companion knowledge of that tale all the same. Why shouldn't he? It was hardly a secret in any sense and if he truly desired it he was assured Andras need only travel to Italy to find the story all the same or indeed- pick up any recent newspaper or magazine that featured Sebastian and himself- as so many of them seemed to. The other Fae slowed to a halt , Dorian moving to do as such in turn as Andras offered those customary condolences, his own hand simply shaking off that apology.

"It is fine, the story is becoming more well-known now that the press has gotten hold of it. You would have found out one way or the other. I would rather you hear it from myself all the same."

That was entirely true in every sense. The press so often having a way of sensationalising those stories well beyond their origin. Dorian rather preferring Andras have the truth of it as opposed to goodness knows what else the media might invent. The Monarch still attempting to fend off those rumours of his own illegitimacy, true though that story was, he hardly desired it be published all over the world. That sudden, almost blunt statement, so caught the Monarch by surprise. One eye lifted briefly upward as that almost rueful smile seemed to touch the other's fellow features. His comments upon that notion of being fortunate to watch his family die perhaps...curious. The almost bitter smile on the man's face indicating perhaps more then he intended for it to do. This, he thought, had little to do with his own family and far more with Andras'. Dorian affording it no comment for now all the same, merely storing that knowledge as the pair continued on the path. Dorian not assured he was grateful to witness the death of any within his palace and yet he considered the matter little before Andras continued, speaking of others within the city he had once known before returning to that topic of why he had left Naples so many years ago before an alliance might be achieved. That sudden declaration of his own massacred court seeing Dorian's own head turn sharply at that pain that near coated his companion's lyrics. The other man's voice decidedly soft and yet the King was assured he had heard it all the same.

"By what? By who?"

Perhaps he involved himself little in the affairs of his own species in particular. After all, he had a veritable country relying upon him and yet there was a part of the Monarch that cared all the same for his fellow Fae. They were a near dying breed after all. To lose an entire court of them, even if centuries ago, was perhaps more loss then their species as a whole deserved to suffer. The question of why tugging at his mind. Andras seeming to have shoved those emotions aside all the same as he abruptly halted again- Dorian along with him. The Fae Monarch inclined to wonder just how long Andras had been....angry. The sudden offer seeing his own eyes suddenly lift. Surprise dancing within the silver off his own gaze. Dorian hesitating, if only momentarily. There seemed to be some measure of things unresolved within the man before him. Dorian wary of such a thing. Ah, but how anger could consume a man if allowed! Yet the Fae King was nothing if not diplomatic. Politics a matter he knew well.

"What position would you see me filling within these ranks?"

After all, Dorian was hardly inclined to offer his support without so understanding just what or whom he was offering it to, his gaze meeting Andras' own levelly now in a ready anticipation of that answer. His features frowning slightly before those easy words fell once more from his lips.

"If I am to offer you my support then it must be upon but one other stipulation. Though times have changed and the world is not as it once was- and though I suspect this moment shall never come- I will not follow you blindly into any matters of war. If ever the times comes where my sword is required I will decide for myself whether to offer it. You must understand that a country looks to me and too- I have someone waiting for me at home. I will not be reckless."

He had seen Kings, Leaders and Generals all fall in the name of war and while he hardly suspected such a thing would ever come to pass the matter remained all the same. Andras was a Leader and yet, so was he within his own right. Dorian far from foolish in any sense. His own support came with a great deal, Dorian aware of his own value in this. The Monarch careful with his words, his choices and his agreements. Andras was angry and an angry man might be inclined to rashness. Dorian already having begun to tease at the threads of Andras' personality and indeed put in place those sensible measures. The man every inch that diplomat he had been born to be and so excelled at and too, perhaps, he might so be able to help the fellow before him find whatever it was he needed in this life to be whole again.

dorian aragona