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

It was a futile thing, surely, to consider the world the way it might have been had his choices five centuries ago differed from those he had decided upon. He had wondered, more than once, just what his life may well have been like had he allowed himself to follow his companion from Naples that ever fateful night. Surely, he would have lost any and all claim to the Italian throne with his abandonment of it and too- running off with a man no less would have placed a stain upon his character that none would have been capable of removing. As if his illegitimacy was not already enough! Perhaps he too would have crafted some great invention marvelled the world over else painted some masterpiece so famed, although why anyone seemed to praise that portrait of the Mona Lisa baffled the Italian Fae all the same. Sebastian had shown him several pictures of it and too- assured him they would visit it in time and yet still how a portrait lacking eye brows had achieved such accolade seemed little more than foolish to him. Dorian decidedly unimpressed by that painting each time he saw it. Were Leonardo still alive he was assured he would have told the man off thoroughly for his poor efforts. Yet still, even if he had spent the better part of his early years with that man whom he knew had adored him- he would still have grown old. He would still have died and truly, in a world as brutal as it once was, Dorian himself was inclined to wonder whether he would have survived. The Monarch holding little doubt his Father would have sent men after him with every intention of removing his existence entirely had he done something so blasphemous as run off with Leonardo. Matteo so having suggested once, so many year ago, that they both may have met early deaths had Dorian chosen that path. The man never seeking to ask his friend of those vision upon it again. Some pasts and futures were better left unknown. Those softly uttered words from his lover so seemed to punctuate that idle thought then, Dorian merely shaking his head.

"I do not regret the choices I made, not at all. They brought me to you- even if you took your time getting here."

There was something almost akin to a tease in those words, that warm simper alighting his lips. Dorian so easily dismissing those emotions he simply did not care to ponder on any longer in favour of those he surely did. The Fae wholly content to tease his lover over the idea he had taken several hundred years longer to appear in this world after himself and yet, somehow, despite all those possible paths either might have taken they had arrived at one another. This an idea Dorian so often enjoyed to consider, a part of the man perhaps a hopeless romantic all the same and after all these years- if only for how he so often liked to consider the ideas of fate and soulmates and those so designed for one another even across the span of histories page and born years apart. His thoughts inclined but briefly once more to the monument before him, Dorian content to eye those students Sebastian made mention off. The Fae frowning in critical judgement of each before asking after which was the one his once-lover may have taken up with eventually. Dorian paused beside this Andrea Salai- eyeing the man silently for several more moments. He was acceptable, he supposed, a little too young really and yet if he had brought Leonardo joy where Dorian himself had not then this was perhaps all that mattered. Dorian afforded him little more than a soft sound of acknowledgement before so declaring he should not like Sebastian to ever attempt to grow a beard. That soft chuckle from the vampire returning that simper to his own lips. His Consort so declaring this was unlikely. Dorian looking contemplative for but a moment as if a truly precarious thought had blossomed within his mind.

"Do you know, I don't think I have ever seen you even shave?"

It was such a small thing, such an idle thing and yet the Fae found himself but suddenly curious of it all the same. The man having never considered the idea until now. His fingers reached for his companions own all the same, Dorian curious now of but one of those lit up buildings that surrounded the square. His delight in being outside those palace walls and simply free to explore a truly glorious notion that he so intended to make the most off as they counted those steps to what was so evidently a gallery of some kind. His hand reached easily to take that offered pamphlet from the woman only to find himself halted by her sudden declaration off whom she was sure Sebastian was. The vampire appearing equally baffled as if he truly had not anticipated he might be recognised when his image had been published the world over! It was perhaps, Dorian's turn this evening to so come to that metaphorical rescue, the Fae so easily declaring the woman mistaken and that such a mistake plagued them often. The Monarch so calling Sebastian by his middle name before proceeding to hurry them out of that main foyer lest anyone else eye them too closely. Dorian hardly inclined to be forced back to their car so soon.

How fortunate it was that the galleria they had so entered was proven to be empty, the Fae King so breathing a sigh of relief to have escaped that singular moment of threatened exposure before the silver of his gaze was turned upon those artworks. For all his companions love of music it was truly those paintings and drawings and portraits that inspired Dorian in turn. The Monarch assured he could spend endless hours within any gallery. The prospect that, within the world, there were surely hundreds if not thousands of them to visit an utter delight to his mind to consider and indeed it was surely that consideration which so prompted an idea of sorts as he turned back to his lover now- asking the man to choose which painting he liked within this room. It took but a few minutes for the vampire to select that portrait of the Italian hillside beneath the moon, Dorian rather relieved in that moment he had chosen perhaps one of the simpler ones before asking the vampire which flower amongst that painted hillside so best captured his fondness. That look of curiosity upon his boyfriend's features was hardly missed, Dorian moving to stand beside him to better eye that chosen flower before he simply nodded. His gaze meeting that striking blue of his companions own at that query.

"I should like to show you something I have learned in but these past few weeks. You know I hold some affinity for art yes? Those colours so respond to me just as I wish them and yet it seems I have been...underusing my affinity, if you will. You shall have to trust me for but a moment though. I promise I am not about to destroy an art gallery. Have a little faith in me, Mon Cher."

How difficult it might be for that very British part of his lover to so watch those things he did next! Dorian reaching into his pocket for that single white oil pastel he had taken to carrying near everywhere upon the excuse that inspiration may well strike him at any moment. White by far the easiest for him to manipulate into any other colour he desired and yet it was hardly a mere picture he desired to paint tonight. The pastel was pressed suddenly to the wall beside that painting Sebastian had chosen, Dorian proceeding to so seemingly do that very thing he had claimed not to be doing- defacing an art gallery no less- the Fae taking but a few minutes to craft a near replica of that chosen flower before stepping back to allow his affinity to colour that poppy in the greens and reds that so marked it. That rather splendid picture crafted now upon the wall and yet he was hardly done, not this time. Sebastian was offered but a momentary glance before Dorian moved to reach for that flower now, his fingers so gently coaxing that image off the wall. His fingers closed about that stem, pulling that drawing from image to life itself, that flower held now within his hands as entirely real as any other had ever been, that whitewashed wall bare once more. Dorian holding that flower out to his lover now to take within his own hands if only to see how truly real it was.

"It would seem I can bring my drawings to life, though whether this is my affinity for life or art or both combined I cannot say."

His voice was entirely soft in that moment, his gaze resting upon that man he adored, watching for his own reactions to the display of that truly unique gift. That soft simper rested upon his features still as he reached forward to run his fingers along the petals of that Italian poppy, each of them fine and smooth and almost silken to his touch- the artist so inspecting his work.

"Do you know what is perfectly ridiculous in all this? When we were back at Belton and you were sleeping, I drew some of the flowers I had never seen before from the garden there. Elaine told me that such flowers would surely thrive back in our city yet it was difficult to transport plants, they are fickle and that was why you didn't have any of them at home. I kept the picture I drew, for I thought I might give it to you when we returned home. Yet it was that picture I was working upon when I came to discover just what I could do with those images some days later."

He paused but a moment, amusement so touching his features all the same at perhaps how perfectly hopeless he truly was when it came to that man he loved.

"I did not consider, at first, that I could draw money or food or glorious swords or any other thing I might ever desire. All I considered was that such flowers would look lovely in your garden and I had surely found a way to do it. All the things I might have- and I think about flowers for you."

He chuckled then, grinning readily as Sebastian now, the silliness of it hardly lost upon him. After all, between them both in this life, there was surely nothing in the materialistic fashion that would ever be denied them. Sebastian wholly wealthy in his own right, their fortunes so combined there was little to nothing they could not buy and yet- off all those things he could draw- it was flowers he had so decided upon!

dorian aragona