The Sun Also Rises

He could hardly help that veritable plethora of thoughts that turned within his mind at his lovers soft admittances, at last, of at least some parts of that marriage and that wife he had previously spoken off only in the vaguest of terms. It was, Dorian suspected, the touch of that alcohol that seemed to have loosened his tongue in this, his words less polished then they might otherwise have been and too- his accent having become so entirely thick even the Monarch was forced to listen carefully least he somehow misinterpret the vampires words. How unhappy it seemed this marriage had been, at least within its ending stages and yet there was perhaps a lack of surprise within the Fae over such a thing if only for his own understanding of those unions in ages past. Unhappy marriages were so terribly common within his own time that they had very near become the norm. Within his own age at least, a marriage was, above all, a contract, an agreement in a combining of status and assets and politics to secure a better future place within that social hierarchy or- to maintain what one already had. Love was rarely a factor. A couple held but one duty above all, at least within those royal families, that being the continuation of the bloodline. To produce a son in an age when daughters held no value to fathers and were instead things to be married off. Divorce was unheard off. It simply was not done. It was better to live in misery and hold covert affairs- many often looking the other way if their spouse carried on with such things providing, of course, those children had already been produced.

Divorce had, he knew, become more common throughout those ages and perhaps even by Sebastian's time and while the man had not so specifically stated this was how his marriage had ended, that it had failed in any sense was clear enough. There was so terribly little he could do, much as he might wish it, to repair that damage and heartache already done and yet a part of him was loath to see his Consort shoulder all that blame- for surely he did. How poor it was of him to consider such things of his lovers wife. A woman Sebastian had once loved enough to marry and yet Dorian could hardly help those thoughts that nestled within his mind and those questions that rose and yet for now, he so dismissed. He wondered perhaps- whom she had been before she had married him and what too she might have gained from that union if it was so there was never to be a child from it- a thing most women would not be without. It was as if Sebastian had not been enough for her and yet, to marry him, knowing well what she knew of him- that he would eternally seek the affections of others for blood and too- that he would never provide her a child.....had he ever been enough? Had love simply blinded her to those realities or had she married him for another reason entirely? How could the love of that man he adored so very much not be enough? It was the very world to Dorian. Sebastian the very sun he orbited about. The Monarch aware he was perhaps biased in his assumptions in this. Protective off his lover even now and inclined to think the worst of her. How improper of him! Yet how such thoughts might seep but slightly into his words.

His lips found his companion's own with an almost fierce determination, as if his love might somehow make up for the failings off his once-wife and overshadow that memory of her. Dorian entirely content to remind his consort each and every day if need be that he was not this Isabella and that any marriage so shared between them would hardly be the same as before. Dorian perhaps embracing that vampiric side of his lover more readily then the vampire himself in some instances. The Fae King, at his heart, a wholly practical man. No part of him so expecting that, even after they were married, that his lovers feeding habits might change. That soft query that left the vampires lips was hardly unheard and yet for that singular moment Dorian was distinctly content to relish in the taste of his lips and the intimacy of that kiss as he rested atop his companion now with that near playful simper back in place. He paused but briefly in his consideration of just how to respond in that moment, after all, for all his own thoughts it would be disrespectful and a matter of great improperness to speak ill of Sebastian's deceased wife, Dorian frowning slightly as he considered how best to voice that which he meant without so hinting at his belief that Isabella had sought more than simply love in that union and too- without spiralling his lover back into that state of unhappiness when he was so beginning to draw him from it.

"It is merely so that I do not think you alone hold blame for that failings of your marriage. Some is hers."

He chose, in that moment, to offer nothing further then the simplicity of that answer that but barely spoke of his true thoughts. Now was hardly the time for such talk though Dorian was assured that, in time, such a conversation would surely be had. The Monarch assured that for tonight at least his lover had been distressed enough for one evening. How those simple words might see his own heart flutter! Dorian unable to prevent that entirely warm look that crossed his features at that simple utterance that there was only ever himself, a truth the man already knew and yet so delighted in hearing all the same from that man he loved so irrevocably, whom he missed so painfully in those nights he returned to his own cold bed and whom he so eternally lusted after even after all those months. Such forgiveness falling from his lips without but a second thought. After all, there was nothing to forgive to his mind. His lover could not help his worries. That they were assuaged was but his only concern as that hand nestled within his dark hair stirred a chortle from his lips, the return of the vampires simper thoroughly pleasing. Sebastian reached then for that wooden game board, turning it about within his hand as if to better examine it before so imploring that Dorian might teach him to play now that the matters of their marriage had been so discussed. The Fae King shifted easily then, leaning away from his lover to sit upward once more, reaching for his own game board before frowning but slightly in consideration once more.

"Perhaps we might avail ourselves of the floor- at least for now. There are some things I should not like to be spilled in my bed."

That near impish look so dared to grace his features for but a single moment, the man offering no explanation as to just what such words might mean in any sense as he moved to step from the bed, those game pieces within his arms as he settled himself upon the plush rug upon the floor. His legs folded beneath him in that almost boyish fashion once more before gesturing Sebastian do the same, placing that wooden board now in front of him before opening those little silken bags and placing them between them. Dorian proceeding then to offer that explanation.

"It is a simple game, Mon Cher. On the board before you there are numbers between one and fifty. Some numbers are there more than once, some numbers you do not have at all. My board is different to your own. When it is your turn you reach first into this bag, you take disc and turn it over, it has a number on it, you read it out. Both of us search for that number on our game boards and then place a red counter from the second bag upon that number, if you have it, as many times as it appears."

Those silver eyes glanced upward then, assuring his lover understood so far that concept of play and placing a coloured counter atop each number that was read out and present upon his board before continuing.

"The idea is as such, for each row or column you complete, you may ask me to take off one piece of clothing. Pants are last though and socks count as two, that is, you must pick which sock you want me to take off and complete another row for the other sock. Whomever is left in their red underwear first is the loser."

The playful grin had so readily worked its way back onto his features once more. Dorian wholly assured he might yet stir that desire within his lover that Sebastian had so been lacking in those moments of his distress. The Fae King quite assured this New Years game might well prove satisfying for them both. Dorian leaning forward but a final time.

"Most of the numbers do nothing but some of them are special numbers, like this eighteen on your board, it is painted red for you but not for me. Our red numbers are different. If eighteen is drawn merely press upon the tile and it will flip over and award you an extra prize written on the back. I fear though the prize tiles are written in ancient Italian, the sort spoken in the late fourteen hundreds- you shall have to trust me to read them for you. Shall we start?"

One eye merely lifted upward, eyeing his lover now in the semi-dark of that warm room, the fireplace providing that soft glow of light and so set their shadows dancing about the floor as Dorian so reached for that number bag first. His fingers plucked at the first disc, drawing it out to turn as show Sebastian the number two. The disc was tossed onto the floor to the side, Dorian reaching for three counters, the number two appearing three times on his own board but only once upon Sebastian's.

"That's a shame- for you. Your turn."

Dorian Aragona