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

It was The Plague that had started it all. In a time within history in which medicine and too- the human form were so poorly understood, the world had searched for veritably any answer in regards to just why so many people died of that all-too terrible disease. Most, simply, had settled upon the understanding that it was a punishment from God himself upon mankind and yet for all of Dorian's own faith within the Church no part of the Fae King had truly believed that such horror was brought about by any sort of Deity. More so, the man had simply come to believe, as so many within his own palace, that the sickness was spread by bugs. It was an aged manner of thinking, surely, one that made little sense to a modern understanding and yet Dorian had seen so readily just what that sickness had done. He had watched several of his younger siblings die and later, his own Mother. He had seen hundreds upon hundreds of bodies piled within the street until the stench of it was near impossible to keep out. That sickness spared no one. Man, woman or child. It left nothing but devastation in it's wake. Even Matteo- for all his power- had not been able to save Isabella and it was perhaps that alone which had driven home that terror within him.

Even if he, born of Fae blood, could hardly catch that sickness it made him no less fearful of it. That fear so manipulating itself, eventually, into an utter terror for any sort of insect lest it bring some sort of harm to him. Not even Elizabeth's medical text books, before Sebastian had confiscated them, had managed to put his mind at ease over such a thing. The man hurriedly peering at the floor even now lest his lover had managed to spot another stray insect. Those teasing tones with which he was presented so managed to steal his attention away from the floor, even if only briefly. The Monarch so regarding his boyfriend with a momentarily dubious look. Dorian debating whether or not to admit to this fear that was neither particularly royal nor manly of him in any sense. This query of a 'large spider' so managed to impart only further terror upon his features at even the idea of it alone! Sebastian, for his part, hardly seemed concerned about this infestation within his bedroom and yet Dorian remained assured this was simply due to a lack of knowledge on just what those insects might well be capable off. The Fae's arms folded across his chest a moment later, the silver of his gaze shifting as if something within the kitchen so required his attention. His words a soft murmur of reluctant admittance.

"It is not a spider it...is a cricket. I am not afraid of it, I simply do not like- are you laughing at me?"

One eye arched upward and yet, despite that clear indignation within his voice the Monarch could hardly prevent that simper that teased at the corner of his lips all the same. A pat of him aware, to some extent, that fear of a cricket was entirely foolish even if he could hardly prevent it. Dorian wholly pleased for the distraction his lovers lips provided him in that moment. That delicate brush so attempting to chase away that disdain over his own failures and yet such a fleeting kiss was hardly enough for the Monarch this evening. Dorian stepping forward a moment later to close that distance between them and so steal that far more ardent kiss from his lover. How often the sight of this man alone so managed to stir that want within him! Dorian seeking but even a taste of him now, that wholly delightful scent of his cologne embracing him all the same as Sebastian's hands found their way to his waist to draw him ever closer and that far too familiar ache settled within him. How easy it would be to simply forget about that ruined house! Dorian far more inclined to such an idea even if some notion of sense continued to tug at him, his gaze following his lovers own to that leather couch, the vampire's words stirring that near-impish grin to his own features.

"I am fond of your work with couches, Mon Cher. In fact, I quite have an idea I should like to try, two actually, though I think perhaps I shall save them for when I am next at your home. My home lacks the correct....furniture for one of them."

That soft chuckle rose readily within his throat, his lips pressed softly to Sebastian's cheek before so moving to lead him towards that required room. Dorian content to leave him wondering as he so often did of just what such ideas might well be- this a game he had enjoyed teasing his lover with since the night they had met. His own form paused just outside that sodden utility room as Sebastian pressed open the door, that sigh upon his lovers lips hardly missed before the man proceeded to remove his shoes and socks, rolling up the hem of his pants in such a fashion as to stir that grin of amusement to Dorian's lips all the same. The Fae King never quite having seen his lover in such a workmen like state before. His gaze following the man readily as he begun to fiddle about- though for what Dorian hardly knew. The Monarch determined to learn all the same lest such a thing as this ever occur again. It was with some measure of reluctance that he so allowed those thoughts on Samantha to be voiced. Dorian perhaps ashamed to admit that for all Samantha had done for him, a part of him resented her for leaving as she had. It was distinctly ungentlemanly and indeed- perhaps overtly selfish and yet it remained all the same. That gentle glance and too, the soft shrug Sebastian so afforded him managed to settle him, if even a little, before his head simply shook.

"She said goodbye as she was near out the front door, she did not say if she would ever return though her words implied she would not. It seems Matteo was correct- though I know not why this surprises me."

After all, had not the Frenchman said just this? That Samantha would no longer be a problem? Dorian somehow having merely anticipated she would simply come to approve of Sebastian rather then disappear entirely and- while he, perhaps selfishly, resented the woman for the manner in which she had left him, he could hardly deny the pleasure he felt in the simple freedom her absence provided him. The Monarch voicing such things a mere moment later. Sebastian so replying that he no longer had excuse to let him leave. It was curious perhaps, that flutter of warmth such words managed to stir within him. The idea that Sebastian might desire he stay all the longer entirely glorious to him even if such words might be wholly teasing. Dorian quite assured that with Samantha no longer waiting he held little need to return to this apartment at all. The notion that he might spend even so much as a week at a time with his lover truly appealing.

"I would not be so opposed to that."

He uttered but softly, that warm simper dancing upon his own features before Sebastian so declared he had discovered the source of the water, Dorian leaning forward to eye that hose that was so apparently the cause of all this nonsense. That request for towels was met with a ready nod. The Monarch stepping away to return but a moment later with several more towels- handing one to his companion now before crouching down in some effort to assist him in mopping up that water. This entire action so very domestic it was near amusing to him. The Fae remembering that Mail quite suddenly, another chuckle humming within his throat at Sebastian's clear confusion at his assurance it was fan mail.

"The palace informs me that it is a way for the people to feel connected to us. I suspect, however, that if your mail is anything like the mail I received then it is also a way for rather a lot of young women to comment upon your exceptional good looks, Mon Cher."

His lips pulled upward into that simper once more. Dorian standing at last now that the water had been removed from the floor and that hose returned, one hand reaching out to assist his lover in crossing back over that still slippery floor. A part of the Fae, foolish as it was, wholly impressed with the performance of such a domestic task. The man truly relieved that the water, in the least, had ceased to flow. His gaze returned to his lover now.

"Thank you. I shall try to remember this if it should ever happen again. I fear though that if you desire your mail we shall have to go to the bedroom and remove the bug. Although- is not your species capable of some sort of speed? Perhaps you might be able to hasten within and grasp the box and hasten back out before it is aware of you."

He did not, at all, fancy this idea of his lover so exposed to that cricket in any sense. His features frowning even now with that consideration.

dorian aragona