Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

Crowned Prince of Italy

It seemed frivolous to change but one singular aspect of the grand hall with the passing of each season. That alteration so slight that it surely had been overlooked by more than just the Englishman himself. He supposed it had seemed like a novel idea, within the time and yet Sebastian was used to the splendor of England and Buckingham that a mere shift of carpets was almost senseless. There was, admittedly, a part of the Prince that held some distinct level of pride. That very emotion so tugged at the vampire at that singular moment, prompting some level of thought in how the grandeur of the throne room might somehow be made all the more spectacular. "I think...if red holds such importance to Naples in the crown then perhaps it should stay though I would agree that maybe we can venture out beyond the carpets." He was, admittedly, inquisitive to what the palace staff could work to so alter the decor to match the very passing of each season. It was, he knew, a very idea his lover could not only get behind but also get lost within. The result, he was certain, would be just as stunning as the room so surely deserved.

His striking ultramarine gaze remained station upon his husband as Dorian crossed the gleaming granite floors. His lover's shoes near echoed in the vast emptiness of that room, accompanied only by the sound of his own as Sebastian followed behind the Monarch. The King's very gait gave way the sheer depth of thought that lingered so heavily upon his mind. Those old, regal mannerisms had a fashion of flaring in such moments, quite akin to the vampire's own dapper accent. He watched as Dorian paused, his foot hitting the carpeted dais as he mounted those stairs in the same fashion he had surely done countless times before. It was almost inquisitive to consider, really, how that throne Dorian lounged within so lackadaisically was far more reminiscent of the last King and yet, that very seat of power had belonged to Dorian himself for far longer. His lover seemed so...at home within that seat, as if he quite belonged there even despite the casual fashion his cheek nestled against the palm of his hand and his leg draped so comfortably against the other. He could hardly deny how alluring that very sight was - his beloved so confident to the point of relaxed ease in the very seat that so embodied authority. How far that very imagery was of the man he knew - the one who had looked upon the world with such childlike wonder.

His thoughts, however, were drawn from such internal contemplations as his lover spoke of a life that had occurred long before Sebastian's own conception. Though the vampire was not ignorant of peasants had once paraded through those halls to beseech their King for his infinite wisdom and just judgment, he had never witnessed such pageantry for himself. It was endearing really, the enjoyment his lover had held for those days before the realization of the very cruelty of the world and indifference of his own faux father. It was lamentable that such could not be one in this modern age. Dorian would have been an exceedingly kind and fair King if given such a chance. The sudden creeping of that impish grin upon the Monarch's features prompted an almost inquisitive weariness from the vampire himself. That role so abruptly thrust upon him was unexpected, to say the very least, and yet not without existing within his realm of capabilities to fulfill if his husband so desired it of him. It was without hesitance that the Prince dropped to that respectable bow, weaving a tale of a sheep with great aspirations, a thieving neighbor, and a despondent farmer with no hope to be found but in the infinite wisdom of his Monarch.

How Sebastian could not deny the satisfaction he gained from the coy smile that so tugged at the corner of his husband's very lips! That very sort of beaming bemusement brought the Englishman a proud sense of victory if only for prompting such happiness within the only soul he loved so intensely. His lover was all too quick to return to those age-old speech patterns, ones Sebastian had once so subtly strived to break him from. For now, however, the vampire was willing to allow that slip of the tongue to slide, if only for how well it mirrored that very century in which such a request as this might be presented to any reigning Monarch. His crystalline gaze lingered upon the fae King's figure as Dorian's fingertips tapped together in a contemplative fashion. That very notion that an animal was capable of knowingly crossing those government-imposed boundaries prompted a soft chuckle from the vampire's lips and yet, he made every effort to return to that role of a raptly attentive farmer. He watched as the Monarch rose from his seat, only to announce his conclusion and those possible solutions available to the forlorn peasant.

It was the mere presence of a third option that caused his eyebrow to rise, the vampire entirely willing to latch onto that bait he was offered as he inquired what was required of him. The very declaration of his appeal prompted laughter upon the vampire's lips, that poor peasantry facade all but decimated at the King's words, the very sound prompting an almost similar glimpse of amusement from his husband. The offer of a goat was, he was certain, a worthwhile exchange for the favors of a King - the very sort of invitation most would be foolish to turn down, regardless of their interest within their Monarch. It was surely only all the better that Sebastian was all but intoxicated with the man that stood before him. That declaration that Dorian was a generous Monarch was met with but a small nod of agreement before the vampire extended that very request to approach his own lover. It was only once that permission was given that Sebastian stepped up those few steps that separated them, his hands reached out to settle upon both sides of Dorian's neck.

His lips pressed sweetly against the softness of Dorian's own, relishing in the very taste that was so distinct to his lover. All the while, the Prince was well aware of the touch of his husband's hands upon his figure, adoring every glimpse of physical affection the Monarch provided him! The melody upon his lover's lips only further coaxed the very beginning of that want within the Englishman. His hands slowly trailed town the King's physic, brushing across his chest and down his abdomen, simply enjoying the sensation of those hard lines that existed beneath the fabric of Dorian's luxurious shirt. His fingers trailed tauntingly along Dorian's pant line, so purposefully attempting to bring to life those very lustful desires within his husband. Sebastian slowly pulled away from the Monarch, only to inquire how the King might feel forgoing those sheets altogether - a rarity for the pair and yet, an idea so toyed with his thoughts as his crystalline irises turned towards the throne behind them. Sebastian's eyes fluttered towards Dorian's own features, witnessing that very look of inquisitiveness upon his husband's face as Dorian pieced together the very intent of his makeshift plan. He was hardly oblivious to how audacious such a fantasy was and yet, with his lover's affinity for invisibility he failed to see why the pair shouldn't partake in those auspicious couplings.

He was, admittedly, rather amused that even after all this time, Dorian still inquired after his skill in an art he was so well experienced within. The fae had placed a challenge before him, one Sebastian was more than eager to rise to. "I shall make every effort not to disappoint, sire." The vampire commented softly as the fae tugged him ever closer. The soft brush of Dorian's tongue against his lips caused them to part, allowing the King access to his mouth as he so eagerly met that feverish kiss. Sebastian was intently aware of the tentative touch of Dorian tongue against his fang. The vampire almost anticipated the press of the muscle against his canine, bringing that sweet taste of his lover's blood welling to the surface, the very flavor of which saw him lean into the Monarch's embrace, plucking at that usually substantial control. How Dorian's blood could so undo him! The very scent of it was all but suffocating, the taste one he so eternally craved more of! A soft sound of regret left his lips as Dorian pulled away from him, only to run his tongue across his lips, smearing that blood just for the vampire's taking.

All too eagerly Sebastian leaned forward, taking Dorian's bottom lip between his own in an effort to caress the very wetness of that flavor he so desired. A soft sound reverberated within the back of his throat as the Monarch's fingers slid so tantalizingly against his skin, pressing between the material of his dress pants and his very flesh. His own hands slowly shifted upwards, catching the hem of Dorian's dress shirt. His lips parted, taking his lover's top lip within his own as his fingers worked deftly at plucking each individual button upon his lover's chest till the Monarch's shirt hung loosely around his figure. It was that simple desire to feel Dorian's skin against his that caused his hands to settle upon his lover's sides, gingerly running upwards to caress every crevice of the muscles in the man's chest before pushing his shirt off the Monarch's shoulders and onto the very floor of the dais they stood upon. Tentatively, Sebastian pulled away from his husband's lips, only for his bright blue eyes to turn downward. His hands deftly reached for the button upon Dorian's pants, impatient to rid his lover of that restrictive clothing that so thwarted him. Though he had indulged in the Monarch's frame the night before, those very urges Dorian brought to life within him seemed nearly unrelenting.

His hands easily pushed the fabric of Dorian's pants and undergarments downwards, waiting only so long as it took for the Monarch to kick off his shoes and step out of those bunched pants upon the floor before his hand gingerly pressed against his lover's chest. It was with a purposeful intent that Sebastian guided the Monarch backward towards that very seat that had so fully captured his attention, easily pushing his lover back downwards and into his throne. He leaned over the King, stealing one final kiss before his hand reached down, threading his fingers within Dorian's own. "The next time you sit in this chair...." The vampire started, placing the King's hand against the arm of the throne before that familiar red hue of his own threads embraced both Dorian's wrist and the head of the griffon that made up his lover's chair. He reached for Dorian's other hand, repeating that process as he continued, "...I want your first thought to be of tonight." Sebastian released his hold upon his husband's hands, content with the tightness of those threads as he stepped back to survey what he had done. The very image of it was undeniably appealing and yet, his intentions went well beyond the simple imagery of the fae Monarch so bound to his own throne. Slowly, Sebastian lowered himself to his knees at Dorian's feet, his gaze turned upwards towards his lover all the same as he so purposefully sought to pull that very same level of confident dominance from the usually softer man - tonight so clearly coaxing some level of intrigue from vampire as he so easily fell back into that very game Dorian had initiated. "What does my King want from his humble servant?"