Dorian AragonaHis Royal Highness

It was curious, even to himself in a fashion, how entirely much he meant those French lyrics that so feel from his lips in that all too tender moment. He had been, once, entirely honour-bound to fulfil such a requirement. As the fifth born child he had, originally, had few expectations placed upon himself other than to marry someone of his Father's choosing, no doubt to fulfil some political alliance that left him destined to remain a Lord over some small province that answered fully to the King, while producing a small army of children with a woman he held decidedly little affection for. It was, after all, for the good of the country as his Father so often assured him. It was his responsibility, his duty, his purpose and yet how quickly Dorian had tired of being so informed of what his purpose was. How he had loathed the idea of any sort of family. After all, he loathed his own a certain extent, why he should seek to expand upon it he hardly knew and as such he had managed to avoid that inevitable marriage for a number of years, allowing his Father to focus on his numerous and surely more important siblings and their affairs. How he had so disdained his own illegitimacy as a child and yet how he had relished it as an adult if only for how often Ferdinand ignored him as a result. He had avoided 'family' in any sense for near six hundred years and yet so nestled against Sebastian now he found himself so wanting just that, Dorian hardly ashamed to admit such a thing aloud. After all, he had long since ceased to see their relationship as something fleeting. Even if it was so they were destined to be but the two of them alone and with Sebastian's small, makeshift family to visit each Christmas, the Fae King had so simply come to decide that it was enough. It had taken him but several centuries to find one with whom he wanted such things and yet he could hardly deny that he did so with Sebastian. To have but a glimpse of that was a most glorious thing indeed.

It was only then, as his lover so drew him closer that his gaze is drawn to that frosted window behind and his mind is given to consider that which it had been denied the chance to explore fully before, his silver gaze turned back to the vampire beneath him now if only to request they might go outside for but a moment more. The tight press of Sebastian's lips was hardly missed as Dorian so lifted himself upward now, a flicker of amusement so tracing his features as the vampires perhaps momentary disdain at his desire to move from the sofa before allowing the other man to lead them back outside once he had been re-dressed in that obscene amount of clothing once more. It is only now, within that embrace of that cold, crisp night air that Dorian so makes his way down those stairs and onto that front lawn buried beneath a layer of snow. Snow was a true oddity to him, a glorious, wondrous thing that his ever-curious mind was determined to understand, his bare fingers reaching to touch that substance in an entirely experimental fashion before hurriedly withdrawing them. It was far, far colder then he anticipated, Sebastian's idle comment on how he had so told him to wear gloves for a reason seeing the Monarch glance briefly backward to his lover, his eyes rolling slightly in a truly playful fashion. That simper upon his lips still.

"Whatever should I do without you? My fingers might well have fallen off."

There was perhaps a distinct tease to those words, Dorian so lightly mocking at the vampire's determination to dress him in every known available article of winter-themed clothing while he himself wore but a one winter neck tie. A chuckle upon his lips all the same as he moved to lift a handful of that snow upward, surprise so tracing his features as it proceeded to melt. How curious! It is Sebastian's assurance that it was frozen rain that sees a look of understanding dawn upon his features, Dorian leaning closer to better inspect that snow within his gloved hands as if he might see these different snowflakes with the naked eye.

"They all appear very similar to me."

He was, in that moment, entirely oblivious to his lover crafting that snowball behind him. Dorian taking several more experimental steps through that powdery substance with a clear and almost childish glee at such a discovery. The vampires assurance that he would show him the uses of snow met with a nod of agreement, Dorian's lips parting to inquire as to just what else they could do with snow when he is suddenly and abruptly struck. It is hardly a hard hit, nor is it painful in any sense, those flying flakes of snowy landing in his hair (he rebelliously did not put his hood up) and along the skin of his neck to tease at him with those tiny touches of chill, the Fae man jolting forward in surprise before pivoting to face Sebastian with an entirely dumbfounded look. Such a look alone perhaps, surely answering as to how long it had been since he had played in any sense at all.

"Did you just throw snow at me?"

He had not, in all his adult years, ever had another throw anything at him, Dorian momentarily entirely unsure as how to take the gesture. Was this some sort of British cultural gesture Sebastian had failed to inform him off? Yet- the very delight and almost childish look of amusement upon the vampires features so seemed to suggest otherwise. It was a...game of sorts? Very well. Dorian bent easily to scoop up another handful of snow, eyeing those loose flakes for several moments.

"How did you make it....throw-able?"

He shuffles readily closer to the vampire now, coming to stand beside him, waiting for Sebastian to show him just how he had made that snowball, Dorian attempting to mimic his lover's actions and roll that snow together- compacting it with care- before reaching to pluck that snowball from Sebastian's own hands. Assuring the Monarch now had one for each hand.

"Thank you, Mon Cher. I fear though you are far too trusting of your enemies. Italy has outsmarted England this eve."

His own affinity so suddenly sees him disappear. One snowball hurling from the right to collide against Sebastian's right side, a moment of silence giving way to a second snowball colliding with the vampires back. Dorian reappearing now behind his companion with a clear look of delight upon his features, a near glorious grin upon his lips. How....silly this was and yet how delightful! Dorian never before having truly played with his lover in a manner so wholly innocent and yet ah, how he enjoyed it! He crouches once more, so gathering another handful of snow to form into yet another ball. Dorian assured his lover might not allow him to make any further shots so easily. A simper tugging at his lips once more as he said softly.

"It pleases me to see you have a good, how you say, throwing arm Mon Cher- you shall need it for New Year's Eve, along with the red underwear."

The third snowball is sent flying towards his lovers chest then, Dorian so attempting to distract the man with idle conversation.