Dorian AragonaHis Royal Highness

It was a truly precarious gift to give, even Dorian was aware of that. After all, there was every chance it might so prove to be almost too overwhelming for his lover, the Fae King having hardly failed to consider that the man might simply prove to be too afraid to truly make use of it and yet, more so, he perhaps feared any number of other reactions that vampire might present him with. He understood, at least to the extent in which he could all but imagine those precarious years of mortal life his lover had once enjoyed, that such a moment as this might yet rise to the surface any number of emotions long since forgotten or perhaps, wholly buried in that acceptance of immortality that had surely occurred after two hundred years of one's undead existence. The enormity of that which he had done was hardly lost upon him and indeed it is that which, perhaps, so results in his own anxiousness to some degree. To distress Sebastian, after all, was hardly his intention and yet he knew well that such actions might prove to do just that. The vampire was, after all, perhaps the more emotive of the two of them, the one more prone to that deep thought and worry over things Dorian himself often failed to consider entirely. It was simply within the nature of that man he loved so dearly to be prone to consideration and by that taken perhaps, predisposed to feeling things in a manner more potent than most.

It is with a distinct care that he chooses his own words, the man pleased in some sense that Sebastian had not been stunned into failing to move entirely and too, Dorian so taking his queries in that moment to be something of a positive sign. After all, his questions so seemed to indicate that he was, in the least, considering this idea of going outside and allowing that sun to touch his skin as it had failed to do in several centuries. Yet, for all the composure his lover was so evidently struggling to maintain there remained a part within Dorian himself that was merely expectant perhaps, of but some outburst of emotion in some sense. Indeed, the Monarch had near readied himself for it, whatever it might be, even if directed wholly at him for so having pressed upon Sebastian a state of being he may struggle to comprehend. Dorian was, in every sense, as prepared as he surely could be for whatever emotion the vampire might have. After all, there was sure to be a veritable plethora of them turning within his lover now. Dorian so unable to shake his own anxiousness in that moment. Ah, but what a strange feeling this was! The man so unable to recall the last time he had ever felt that strange blend of fear and concern and excitement and nervousness that seemed to result in this anxiety within him. It was perhaps the sheer depth of his affection for the man before him that had so prompted him to afford that gift and yet too, that so feared its outcome all at once. For several moments further he remains silently beside his lover, his own gaze so eyeing that frosted window and the colours beginning to mark the horizon in anticipation of that coming morning. Dorian so soundlessly leaving the vampire to his own thoughts once more.

He steps away from that window and his place beside his companion at last only to softly tug upon the man's hand and lead him but a few steps sideways and towards that ornate mirror that decorated his room. The Fae King so attempting in that moment to afford him some view of both his complexion and too that beautiful blue of his gaze that was so wholly striking when ensnared with that life that so often alluded him. He had perhaps, failed to consider those more negative emotions that might be stirred to the forefront of his lovers mind in response to just this. That story of his creation one Dorian had never sought to ask for and indeed one Sebastian had never seen fit to share in turn. After all, it simply was not their way. Gentleman did not pry. Those age-old customs still wholly present within them both and yet it is only now that Dorian has, himself, ever felt any true disdain for whatever or whomever had ever taken this from his lover to begin with. How foolish it was to dislike an individual he never had and surely never would, be given to meet, but oh how he did! He allows such despairing thoughts to press from his own mind, those French lyrics uttered softly all the same, a grin so at last finding his own features before those near-teasing tones stir but a hint of a chuckle from between his lips.

"I think you might find, Mon Cher, I am inclined to like you in any state of being."

After all, it was that entirely vampiric man he had fallen in love with and yet, still, there was much to enjoy about that colour and warmth that surrounded his consort now. It is that rapidly increasing light that sees him step from that mirror once more and towards the window, the first rays of that sun beginning to strike the sky with those golden spears. How glorious such a sunrise was! That light shining all the more brightly atop that stark white snow that littered the ground. Dorian too, in that moment, afforded his own first look at an English winter morning. He was almost loath in a sense, to turn his own silver gaze away from that exquisite sight and yet there was but a far more important being whom so required his attention now. Dorian so seeking his lover within what darkness remained, his hand so gently extended in some effort to coax the man from the shadows. The Fae King prepared to wait for the next hour if need be before he is rewarded with that soft nod, Sebastian almost hesitantly coming forward to stand beside him. The way in which the vampire so clung to the curtain was hardly missed and yet Dorian said nothing upon it now. Some moments, after all, require nothing but silence.

So he said nothing. His own gaze cast upon those snow lit fields with his own sense of wonderment, this, after all, the first time Dorian had ever seen a snowy morning in any sense. How that sun shone atop that white snow! How glorious the colours within the sky! A grin he can hardly help working its way onto his features before that sun so finally reaches them, filtering but softly through that window to alight his own bare skin in that golden, morning glow before his gaze merely lifted now to watch his companion, to so see that wonderment upon his own face. That look, perhaps, far grander than the sight he was afforded through that window. He watches still in silence at the rays of sun that touched his lover's fingers, Dorian curious perhaps, to note whether or not the vampire had even noticed that sun upon his hand and yet some discoveries are for Sebastian alone to make. A smile touching his own lips once more, pleased with his work in some sense as his own gaze returned to that window. The man utterly unable to hide his own delight at the sight of this. He had, willingly, resigned himself to sharing Sebastian's own waking hours, it was a matter of simplicity if nothing else, Dorian so having failed to see the sunrise himself in some weeks- the man usually entirely asleep. Ah, but how beautiful it was! His lips pressing in a stolen kiss upon his lover's cheek for this exquisite, shared moment.

It is only once that sun has fully crested the horizon that Dorian steps from the window, leaving Sebastian at it still, before he moves towards his own bag, fishing those clean clothes from within it before quietly dressing. His attention returned now to Sebastian himself. Dorian moving to his lovers own luggage to select those pants and shirt from within, placing them neatly upon the bed with those navy sunglasses and too the thickest pair of socks he was capable of finding. The Fae King, for perhaps the first time, so taking over that role Sebastian himself so often performed in some sense. The vampire more often than not wholly dedicated to caring for Dorian, to leading those nightly excursions in some sense and if only because the modern world still so often rendered Dorian naught but confused. Today however, it is the Monarch himself whom is so determined to take that lead.

"Bastian?"

He waits only so long as it takes the vampire to, at last, draw his gaze from that sunlit window and towards Dorian himself, the Fae gesturing now to those clothes upon the bed he had readied for the man.

"I think, Mon Amour, that if we are to go to see this orangery of yours that it might best be done in clothing. Your gardeners may not appreciate your naked form quite as much as I do."

A quiet chuckle rises within his throat then, a soft simper upon his lips. Dorian so taking it upon himself now, to care for his companion as Sebastian so often did for him.

"Do not forget your sunglasses either. The sun on the snow is very bright, your eyes are not used to it at the best of times let alone when reflected from snow. You own a heavy coat too don't you? I shan't have you getting cold."