He could hardly decide exactly why those fluttering creatures, or indeed any insect, so seemed to instil that fear within him. Dorian so simply assured he had always been afraid of them since the earliest of his memories. Bugs had once been a nearly unavoidable fact of life, especially within his childhood and indeed his teenage years. The fifteenth century hardly upholding the same standards of hygiene and cleanliness the modern day did. Dorian perhaps so having come to associate insects of any kind with the simple unpleasantness of the dark ages. The sickness, the disease, the pestilence and plagues and famines that so often ravaged his own country had, in many cases, been brought about by insects. Nothing good came of them, of that he was sure. The very idea that some of them might directly bring him harm was more then he was surely willing to stand. The very thought of being bitten or stung by one was utterly abhorrent to him. That fear remaining regardless of how illogical it might be. Sebastian, he was sure, was entirely correct in his assurance a butterfly simply could not sting and yet a far more irrational part of the Fae King simply refused to believe it all the same. The simple fluttering so readily saw him near bury his face in his lovers shoulder as if being unable to see the creatures might lessen his discontent. That muffled assurance he was fine echoing a moment later. Sebastian did so many things for him, after all, Dorian assured he could allow the man a singular lap of that butterfly enclosure he desired to see in return! How foolish he was being and yet how unable he was to prevent himself. His hand clutched far to tightly in his lovers own as his very heart betrayed any hint of confidence his voice had attempted to offer with its rapid beats felt against Sebastian's own finger.

Dorian had hardly anticipated those facts, nor the simple notion that Sebastian was so attempting to lessen that fear if only by distracting him from the idea of those creatures. His ever curious mind so evidently managing to seize on to that curiosity even now. Those soft touches of affection only seeming to soothe him further as he contemplated several of those very facts. The Monarch never before having considered how some moths might eat or that butterflies held clear wings colours by the light itself. That singular fact drawing his attention for several moments even if he hardly dared to raise his head from his lovers shoulder for fear something might strike at him. The idea that Sebastian himself might be capable of creating a series of refractions upon their wings so at last managing to stir those words from within him. His voice once more lacking that usual confidence as he uttered his interest in seeing such a thing. Ideally from a distance. Although the idea of his lover being surrounded by butterflies hardly pleased him either, Sebastian assuring him it would hardly happen all the same. The arrival of that exit seeing an end to any further questions on his part. That gentle request to a least view that Monarch Butterfly, that supposed King of Butterflies at last drawing his gaze upward. Dorian content to eye it from near behind his boyfriend all the same if only for the idea that, should the insect take flight, it might surely his Sebastian first. Dorian entirely convinced his Consorts capabilities to defend the both of them from it, even within his somewhat mortal form.

The Butterfly was larger than he had anticipated, that fear gripping at him still and yet for the barest of moments he found himself near taken with those colours and patterns that presented upon its wings. How glorious they were, how beautiful, the Fae King readily willing to admit to the loveliness of them and yet how unfortunate they belonged to such a creature as that. Sebastian remaining decidedly silent as Dorian announced he would never forgive that butterfly if it flew at him. The vampire commenting softly then on how delicate they truly were and how easily they might be given cause to die- before attempting to assure him this was at least one creature more delicate then himself. That very jest so at last returning that simper to himself, his hand shoving playfully against Sebastian now with that command to hush, his eyes rolling lightly in amusement before the very realisation of where they were still standing seemed to distract him. His hand reached effortlessly out once more, grasping Sebastian's own to lead him all too eagerly to that exit beside them and into the safety of the outside. A sigh of relief readily parting his lips, his gaze glancing upward at that gentle murmur he had done well. That simple compliment stirring a grin to his lips all the same.

It was easy then to so entwine his fingers further with his Consorts, Dorian content to lead them towards that garden of fountains with that idle comment he had hardly known Sebastian knew so very much about bugs. After all, he was assured his lover had never really made any mention of them before nor had he ever seen the man read a book on them and yet still, the vampire so clearly knew something about them. Sebastian's comment that even he hadn't quite been aware of it bringing that chuckle to his lips as they wandered into that final garden, the sound of that bubbling water entirely pleasing. Dorian drawn readily to that first fountain so shaped like a lion, water shooting gently from its mouth into a small pool below. The Fae King unable to prevent himself from tracing his fingers through that clear liquid as he seated himself on that marble bench beside it. That warm simper finding his lips again in some simple pleasure at that fountain, the Monarch promptly declaring they should surely have one for their own garden if only because the sound was so pleasing. His silver gaze readily found that striking blue of his lovers own as Sebastian commented upon the idea of placing it somewhere that they might hear it from their bedroom, Dorian's own grin only widening at such a suggestion.

"That is a splendid idea, I should like that. Perhaps we might even find one with a deer on it somewhere. I quite think that seems to be an ongoing theme."

That soft chuckle rose easily from his lips then, his gaze remaining on his companion still before those teasing lyrics left him all the same.

"You could name the deer."

He offered readily, as if such a suggestion might further incline the vampire to the idea if only for the promise of naming further inanimate objects as was so apparently his fashion. Another soft sound of amusement rising from within him before that small silence existed between them. Dorian content to run his fingers through that water again, the pleasing sound seeming wholly fitting for that setting sun. The last few people hurrying out of those gardens then as the volunteers tidied in preparation for the next day. It was that simple peacefulness, perhaps, that so prompted the Fae to share those further thoughts then on just what that water reminded him off. Those droplets running from his fingers and across his palm as he glanced upward at his boyfriend once more. How well he remembered that evening Sebastian had repaired that washer and chased that cricket from his room before that had enjoyed that fan mail and they had taken that furthered step in their relationship.

Dorian having moved the very next day from that apartment he had once called home and into that mansion they shared. Sebastian so assuring him that he too had hardly forgotten that night. Yet- that singular night had hardly been the only one that water so prompted further memories off. That grin still resting upon his features at the comment of that night they had shared that bath for the very first time and too- taken that physical relationship to that more intimate level. That night Sebastian had so ended up with paint in his hair having followed that Chopin concert- the very place they had both so uttered those terribly meaningful words for the first time. He had hardly forgotten even one of them, such evenings, among so many others, remembered with a striking fondness. That water so having been present in some way for near each of those near critical life events Dorian had once so never believed he might ever have.

It was that gentle assurance that he had so come to the decision he was very good at making a mess within their home that seemed to prompt his lover to take up that seat beside him. Sebastian's fingers so easily tilted his head upward, the gentle press of that kiss stirring a simper to his own lips as that gesture was sweetly returned. Sebastian's forehead brushing against his own in that simple closeness and subtle intimacy that so had a habit of making his heart flutter all the same. Dorian assured that it was near fit to burst sometimes with that simple adoration and irrevocable love he held for Sebastian. Even in moments so simple as this. That assurance Sebastian would have him no other way seeing his own features readily soften before his lips pressed again to Sebastian's own in a second gentle kiss wholly laced with affection. Dorian shifted upon that bench then to lie back and along it, his head resting in Sebastian's lap, content to use his lover as a pillow of sorts as he so often did. His feet hanging from the edge of that bench as one hand lowered to brush through that grass beneath them. Those gardens so suddenly quiet without those crowds and yet it was entirely peaceful.

"Bastian, if this is the Royal Flower Show, will your Queen be in attendance? She keeps asking us to tea, we are really going to have to do that at some point, especially if we might see here in the next few days."

It was hardly from any lack of desire to so visit with that English Monarch, rather, so finding a time in which both Sebastian, himself and Her Majesty might all be together had proven largely difficult. Dorian frowning slightly in that further consideration before that amusement tugged at his lips once more. His gaze glancing upward to Sebastian now.

"I think she might quite know we are here too. I suspect there are a thousand pictures of us being put onto that internet by the public now. You might quite need to speak with the staff at your gates tomorrow lest the press decide to appear in any great number."

Those English paparazzi had, so far, hardly proven to be as incessant as their Italian counterparts and yet Dorian hardly had any desire for their presence to disrupt that show he still wholly intended to enjoy seeing the rest off. His gaze drifted briefly down that drive and to those gates, those last few rays of sun dipping below that colourful horizon then and yet the Monarch hardly made any effort to move from the simple pleasantness of that bench. That cooler evening air hardly displeasing to him in any sense and yet that very notion of Sebastian's still very living body so seemed to strike him once more. His lovers disdain for any sort of chill readily known.

"You are not cold are you, love? Should we head back inside? I'm quite hoping they have some sort of lights set up in this garden in the evening else I fear we might fall over the garden beds trying to get back. I shouldn't ever forgive myself if I ruined a display by stepping on it."

His Royal Majesty

Dorian Aragona

The King of Italy