and the sun also rises120.154.95.146Posted On December 27, 2017 at 2:23 PM by Dorian Aragona

The Sun Also Rises

Goodness but it was cold here! Dorian’s hands tucked further into his pockets as his shoulders hunched against that cool air, his breath rising like thick smoke as he leant back against the nearest tree, that neasusa continuing to rise within him from that unintended trip through the portal. Surely he would not feel so terribly ill had he managed to step through it upright. Navi’s shove having so resulted in the unfortunate Fae King tumbling through it before being veritably thrown out the other side. That anxiety that clung to him hardly assisting in any desire to feel well. He had so little idea of where he was, the others nowhere to be seen, the veritable stress of being unable to return forming knots within his very stomach. How desperately he wanted to believe Andras that this place was entirely safe and yet how terribly he feared being trapped within it. He could not bare to be trapped somewhere again. Not after the past five centuries. The Monarch assured he simply could not survive it a second time. Not without Sebastian. The very idea of so losing that life he had so finally built for himself was terrifying. What would become of his country if he was not there to lead it? What was he to do if Andras and the others appeared in some other part of this….land whatever it was? Why on earth had he taken off his jacket at the door to Andras’ house when he so clearly needed it here? Really Andras should have told them it was snowing. Dorian momentarily considering the other Fae’s poor hosting skills, really Andras could use a little lesson in that and yet now was so hardly the time. The sudden sound of someone else seeing the Monarch look up, his silver gaze landing firmly upon Andras as that sense of relief seemed to find him. In the very least he was no destined to wander some frozen tundra alone.

It was the sight of Navi not a moment later however that seemed to draw the most of his attention. Dorian was, by design, a decidedly pleasant being. The Monarch able to count on one hand the amount of times he had so much as raised his voice to another person, his gifts for diplomacy known throughout the world and yet, here and now, that irritation so potently flared within him. That fear he had been utterly forced to confront before he was ready manifesting itself as anger in that moment. Navi so baring the veritable brunt of it even as those words were directed to Andras himself. That age-old latin leaving him now, that stress perhaps prompting that shift in languages, his words decidedly sharp and a little louder then he was often inclined to speak. That polite dip of Andras’ head seemed to soothe him slightly, that utterance for forgiveness prompting a soft sigh from Dorian himself, his own head softly nodded then.

“Tibi nihil ignoscendum. Non est vestrum erit flagitium.” (You have nothing to be forgiven for. It was not your fault.”

These words were offered far more calmly, Dorian so hardly finding any off his irritation directed toward the other man. It was, perhaps, wholly unfortunate that Andras had not chosen to be honest from the very beginning in his talents for such powers and yet too, Dorian so well understood the need to protect oneself and one's people. After all, how long had he concealed the worst of his own powers? Sebastian and Vhalla alone aware of his affinity to summon that darkness to his defense. A power Dorian had long associated with sins he cared not to think on and yet, one he had engaged when he so needed it most. Andras’ desire to protect those others a decision much the same. Dorian so hardly faulting him for that. Navi, however, was another matter entirely. He hardly desired to be cross with the woman and yet she understood so terribly little of the world as he knew it. Her actions so displaying her as brash, disrespectful, hotheaded and impatient with no skill for diplomacy in any sense. She was clever perhaps and yet how such an attribute might pale when listed beside those flaws of her personality Dorian had so simply witnessed within her in that single moment. Surely it was a sin to be so judgemental of the woman and yet her actions had so distinctly displeased him. Perhaps, in time, he might see fit to re-evaluate such opinions and yet for now he remained content to have her kept away from him. Troy abruptly stepping in front of her then as if to shield her from his gaze and yet Dorian hardly saw any need to fault him for merely acting as a gentleman. Andras offering his own sharp words in that moment.

Navi, it seemed, was ill-inclined to merely hide behind the other man, however. The young woman so displaying that very brashness and impatience Dorian had so deduced off her in that moment as she stepped about him to quarrel further with Andras. The Fae King so allowing one eye to lift ever so slightly at the tone she took with the other man. How glorious such passion and spirit could be in a being! Yet too- how utterly difficult it could become if allowed to go unchecked. Andras, he was sure, would have difficulty with such a woman for the extent of their friendship. The Monarch near amused at the idea if not for that irritation at her deception that still existed within him. Navi promptly explaining she hardly understood why Dorian had been upset by that scenario in any sense. The Monarch hardly seeing any need to explain is own past. Not here and now. His gaze cast nervously back towards that portal if only to make sure it was there before Navi herself promptly strode towards him. That apology proffered a moment later, Dorian so merely eyeing her for a moment before his own head simply nodded as the woman turned to storm away. His words returned to English then.

“I would appreciate that, thank you.”

There was a certain stiffness to those words all the same and yet Dorian was hardly a creature inclined to grudges in any sense. The matter for now was surely over. The Fae King unwilling to afford her very much trust in any sense and yet there was little that could be done of the situation now. Dorian, instead, far more concerned with that chill in the air as he moved to follow Andras, keping to the man's other side as he placed himself between Navi and himself. Dorian grateful for that brick path then. Andras’ sudden assurance that he wished to show them some sort of lodge that appeared to the side managed to stir the faintest look of curiosity to the Italian’s features before the other Fae so declared they had somewhere else to go first, gesturing to a hill behind them. He was distinctly ill-prepared for a hike in any sense! How far did Andras intend to march them? Dorian, it would seem, unused to being asked to walk any great distance. The man eyeing that hill (small though it was) with a look of mild disdain- one he moved to cover quickly all the same.

“I shall be with you in a moment.”

One foot reached forward then, Dorian moving to scrape that snow from the brick path at his feet, that single, white pastel fetched from his back pocket before the man promptly proceeded to crouch down atop that path, that pastel placed to that brick as the Monarch simply began to draw. As if here and now was the perfect time to create an artwork. The Fae King a distinctly gifted artist in every sense of the word. Dorian taking no more than several minutes to create that near exquisite drawing….of a coat. His own hand reached forward then, passing through that brick to pull that very drawing off the pavement, Dorian shaking it a moment before that drawing abruptly became real at his touch. Dorian proceeding to slide that now very real jacket over one arm and then the other, the man zipping it up before nodding in contentment. That white and gold coat he had drawn from himself and crafted into reality at merely a touch was a decidedly glorious piece of craftsmanship that was distinctly warm in turn. Dorian, now, content to stride up that hill with little explanation for that power. The man joining the others at that crest then.

His own eyes widened decidedly at that view that presented itself . That city sprawling out below him then, Dorian so effortlessly able to sense the sheer amount of Fae who existed within that metropolis. Somnia, as Andras called it. This place, perhaps, a final refuge for their own struggling, dying species. Andras so hardly needing to explain just why such a place was a veritable secret from the world. He had seen so many Fae, over the years, die at the hands of Hunters determined to wipe them into extinction and more so- he had known entire Fae lines to be wiped out by vampires seeking their blood. Fae blood the favoured choice by nearly every vampire. That hunger and their own struggles with reproduction having pushed them to the very brink of extinction. Dorian so eyeing that city quietly then, his thoughts content to turn and yet that warm simper so found its way to his features all the same.

“I think it is beautiful.”

He commented simply. His silver gaze turned to Andras then before returning to that city, that inquisitiveness clear upon his features. Dorian, ever the diplomat, so finding himself a flurry with other questions then.

“I know well the meaning of secrets, you hardly need worry and yet i must ask you how does this city...function? Do they grow their own food? I presume there is no electricity? How many Fae live here? Forgive me, I simply wish to understand how things work, I…..this baffles me.”

Dorian Aragona


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