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

How horrific those few moments of waiting were in which little save for silence echoed with its frustrating lack of answers. The Monarch knew, truly, somewhere deep within himself that he should not fear a single cricket. That his fears were unfounded and too, more so, that his behaviours were wholly foolish and yet he had been allowed- for so many years- to carry on with those notions that his fear, to an extent, had seemed all the more real and entirely validated by a court whom believed it improper to correct a King. He could feel that sharp hike within the beat of his heart. That once steady tempo beginning to beat an entirely new pattern within his chest that only seemed to increase with every passing moment in which he feared for the very life of his consort. That sound of his name saw his form tense in preparation before his queries simply went unanswered, that single moment of silence stretching like a veritable abyss before Sebastian's shouts seemed to form an icy fist within his chest. Dorian so wholly convinced the man he loved was in some sort of danger, that desire to protect him from it so pressing down his own fears and too that apprehension that came with using a power he so feared all at once. It was fortunate perhaps, that the Monarch so had the foresight to open the bedroom door rather than break it down, Dorian so flying into that room a moment later with swords drawn, a throwing knife hurled at whatever it was the man held above his head. The Fae so clearly failing to pause to consider it in any true fashion before pivoting within the centre of the room in search of his lovers attacker. Only to find the room- rather empty.

That confusion that lingered upon his features was so underpinned by that utterly dumbfounded look. The adrenaline that coursed so thickly within his veins taking several long moments to lessen enough to provide him with the realisation that there was no bug at all and that, perhaps, their never had been as those ebony blades of shadow merely faded back into whatever abyss they had been summoned from. This perhaps the one power within his possession Dorian cared not to investigate if only for those very memories that lay attached to it. The man hardly caring to revisit his crimes tonight as he turned his attention to Sebastian at last, collapsing in a clear state of relief onto that bed in some effort to allow his heart to still in his breathing to steady. The Fae King so afforded himself several of these moments before at last rolling just enough to press his lips with a clear firmness to Sebastian's own- stealing that kiss from him and yet such a gesture was wholly born of relief. Dorian leaning back from him only to shove him in a fashion he never quite had before, such a gesture entirely playful all the same and yet Dorian had become entirely aware of the ruse of this situation. Sebastian an entirely impossible man at times! The Fae King having been entirely prepared to take on anything that might have been present within the room, his eyes rolling slightly at the mention of his preparedness to fight a single cricket.

"I would take on far more than that for you, Mon Cher. Do you know, I have not summoned those blades for the purpose of battle in....centuries. Though it would seem my skill with them has not diminished to terribly much."

He gestured briefly to that aforementioned hole in the wall above them. Dorian eyeing it critically a moment before his features softened entirely. The man unable to prevent that laughter all the same. Sebastian surely correct in the least. He would not forget this night any time soon even if he need surely repair the hole. After all, Dorian hardly knew whose home this actually was. He had believed Samantha had owned it for several months, only to learn that it had been her lover whom had maintained it, the very man Dorian had so been informed had died. Surely then, this home had been left to another in his will? Someone must own it. Dorian quite assured this someone was not himself and yet truly the matters of modern house ownership were lost upon him to the extent he hardly knew what to do about it save for wait to see if an owner appeared upon his doorstep with that paperwork. One hand reached for that letter that had fluttered back to the bed, passing it back to his lover now as he made himself wholly comfortable at the man's side, Sebastian shifting within the same moment until his head rested against Dorians own in a truly satisfying fashion. How glorious it was to simply exist for such moments as these when there were no crowds of people or photographers or interviewers or even members of his own court to swarm about them and fuss and hurry and judge either one of them for their hair or clothing or outfit or expression. Dorian so having come to relish these few moments of peace he so found with Sebastian alone when the world itself was calm and he might simply just....exist with that single being whom was surely allowed to see him with rumpled clothing and imperfect hair. How exquisite it was.

That letter held briefly above them was met with a curious glance, that apology for its current state upon his lips and yet his words were nothing but true. Dorian hardly content to apologise if such a letter was from any being declaring their love for his Consort. That often contained possessiveness he felt for his lover flaring just so in that moment before Sebastian merely cast it aside, whether he knew that name or not so apparently unimportant before the vampire rolled over to eye him, his gaze a truly bright blue from the recent feeding, asking whether or not the house was repaired.

"It is not so broken as to worry me any longer. I suspect I might be able to paint over that hole. Would you stay tonight? I am loath to sleep alone again."

It was a rare thing, indeed, for the Monarch to offer such admittances, especially upon a night in which they had held no plans so originally and yet with Samantha no longer present and Sebastian so already having found a meal for this evening, Dorian was assured there was little reason for the man to leave him again unless he desired too. The mere thought of that so turning with discontent within him and yet, as always, such emotions were held wholly at bay for the sheer inappropriateness of offering them should Sebastian have other plans for the evening. His gaze lifting to linger upon the vampire now before another thought seemed to so suddenly take hold.

"Oh, I am just reminded, there was something I wished to show you."

The Monarch shifted then, lifting himself slowly from the bed to cross the room and head towards his bookcase beside that wardrobe Sebastian had once thrown a shirt onto the top off. It took but a moment to lift that terribly large book from Matteo into his arms. Dorian carrying it back to the bed only to place it upon the end, his own form easing back onto the bed a moment later, the Monarch rolling onto his stomach, gesturing for Sebastian to do the same as the vampire came to rest beside him- that book resting before them. It was curious, truly, that flutter of anxiousness that so seemed to beset him in that moment as he moved to open that book, flicking through those pages in search of a particular one.

"I have found something curious in these pages that I thought perhaps you might care to see. I thought it to be a mistake at first."

His fingers paused upon that page then, displaying it to his lover now. It was, in comparison to so many others, a rather plain page with nothing but a list of names scribbled down it. Each name however had been neatly crossed out. John, William, James, George, Charles, Frank, Emma, Grace, Florence and Ethel struck from that list until 'Sebastian' had been circled. Dorian so allowing his lover to examine such a thing before moving to offer an explanation, his words soft in that moment.

"This is the first mention of you within this book and while it is perhaps not such names that are remarkable, I think perhaps this surely is."

One finger lifted to point to that top of the page, dated as every other page within the book. The date so neatly printed at the top of this particular page dated to exactly one week before Sebastian's birthday. Dorian so allowing that soft simper to trace his lips now.

"It would seem to me that Matteo saw you coming very early on. I do not know how it is fate is given to work, Mon Cher, not truly. I know it may be ever changing and yet it would seem that from the very beginning you might so always have been destined to find me. Perhaps it is a fanciful thought but it pleases me to consider that perhaps there was some purpose to my staying in that palace so long...even if only waiting for you."

That smile adorned his features once more, lips pressing to Sebastian's cheek in that moment of affection, silver gaze lingering upon the man now. How silly it might be that he found such pleasure in such romantic ideals as this and yet surely he was allowed such things? A touch of amusement finding his features now.

"I am pleased too- that your parents decided against calling you Frank. It seems they were indecisive of names for some time."

dorian aragona