i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

Despite that bristly demeanor in which the aged Dark Hunter so presented to the fellow in front of him, he could hardly deny that he held a certain level of fondness for the boy, at least in idea alone. After all, he had celebrated every single milestone within the now King's life with that French fae. Not to mention the years they had spent chasing every possible charleton and self-proclaimed blood witch down in an effort to break that spell that so bound that Italian boy to that castle. How many continents they had covered, how much money they'd wasted, and how many bribes and threats they'd dished out in their efforts to speed along that near everlasting spell. They had done far more for the sake of that man than he would likely ever know. After all, it was hardly partial to either Matteo or himself to discuss their failures. Still, there was something...near peculiar of knowing so much of an individual and being so involved within their life from afar only to finally meet the young man. Though that inquiry on Matteo's disappearance hardly surprised him, the Macedonian King all too easily brushed off such concerns - after all this was his time with his dearest comrade's boy.

He was hardly oblivious to that frown that crossed the fae King's features and yet, Alexander seemed more akin to act as if he'd hardly noticed it at all. Instead, the man inquired ever so gruffly if that undead Consort was going to be joining them tonight, though he hardly expected that simple show of undeniable adoration that crossed Dorian's features at the mere mention of the man. He couldn't help the way his own thoughts seemed to drift to a time ages upon ages past to the very soul that had, no doubtedly, been his own soulmate. He'd lost that man far too soon and now he was cursed to an eternity without him. Still, the Dark Hunter pushed away such thoughts readily at the outstretching of that hand, his own reached out several moments later in an altogether short hand shake. That news that Dorian had heard of him and the ventures Matteo and himself had engaged upon was hardly surprising, Alex easily offered that response that Dorian too had been a topic that was greatly spoken of. He was hardly unaware of Matteo's decidedly lack of mention of fathering the boy and yet, unlike his companion, he was perhaps not so unwilling to help shove those puzzle pieces in place.

Even so, he hardly lingered long upon those introductions, instead offering the Italian a beverage whilst he waited for his father's return. It was an offer that Dorian seemed quite keen to taken up though that coffee he asked for was hardly surprising in any fashion, really. His head bobbed as he turned towards those machines, ever so neatly leading that orchestra of machinery to craft that piping hot, cream topped coffee. He hardly expected that painting of Bucephalus to so draw from the boy a remembrance of that toy that Alexander had crafted nearly a century ago, and yet, that tale fell decidedly easy from his lips. That widening of Dorian's eyes coaxed a small simper at the corner of his lips, his head shaking ever so slightly at that hope he should never have to venture in that god forsaken forest. "I think you are safe from such a fate." He commented idly, placing that drink before him. He leaned against that countertop, his gaze steady upon Dorian as he watched the man sip upon that carefully created coffee. That vague hint of a compliment was taken with yet another small simper though it was but fleeting in the wake of the mention of that vampire.

By habit, Alexander near despised the species. Though he had, in the past, befriended several of their kind, they were altogether difficult to kill and tended to bring about some of the greatest massacres in their never ending thirst. It was habit, surely, that saw him hesitate to so accept the man Dorian so clearly loved and yet...Alexander offered little but a small shrug, the man willing to concede in some fashion. "Perhaps we shall make him one before you leave then." He commented simply. It was a small gesture by any outside appearances and yet, Alexander was altogether prone to such intense and harsh judgments when it so suited him. It was that inquiry of those pastries, however, that drew such thoughts away, the Dark Hunter freely admitting that this was certainly not who he was, much less that he had hardly allowed Matteo to get away with that punishments of sorts. It was a matter of pride within the conqueror to so find his revenge. He hardly expected, however, for Dorian to so make an effort in helping with that vengeance of sorts, a glimpse of consideration so fluttering across his features. "Does he now?" He inquired, "That bastard owes me back rent. I'll have to charge him something exceedingly ridiculous." He paused to consider this, knowing well he was capable of wiggling that cash from his friend on the basis of their very bet. Though, then again, perhaps he could barter his own freedom from this cafe on that misstep. "You, my boy, might have just saved me two years behind this bar." He commented, those bright blue-green eyes near sparkling in a mischievous fashion. It was those very challenges that so brought some measure of life within him after all these years.

He was far too busy considering the implications of such a thing to notice that contemplative look that crossed the young Italian King's features, at least, not until that inquiry so left Dorian's lips. His attention entirely was captured by the fae as he regarded that hint of uncertainty that seemed to shine but fleeting through that otherwise confidant exterior and yet, that very question prompted little more than a soft sigh from the Dark Hunter, at least, at first. "He's a right coward when it comes to you, you know." He muttered, shaking his head ever so slightly. "After all these years, he's still trying to figure out how to speak to you properly sometimes." Still, was this not his duty all the same? Although his role of Godfather had never truly been officiated in any fashion, not that it would have mattered anyways with Alexander's blatant disbelief in that Christian God, this was still exactly what he had agreed to in some sense when Matteo had asked that fateful evening. "Dorian, Matteo is more proud of you than he is anything in his entire life. He always has been. You should see how smug he gets when talking about you, especially when he's drunk. He went on a whole triade once about how you were so amazing for even just living longer than fourteen." He could hardly help the way he'd rolled his eyes about that simple memory, purposefully leaving out the part where he'd left Matteo to meet the Guadalajara cartel in his drunken state by himself for even mentioning the Dark Hunter's murdered son.

And yet, even in the spite of those efforts to reassure the fae King, Alexander hardly saw the need to pry on those thoughts. Instead, moving to inquire of their meeting as if those concerns had never truly touched his heart. The Macedonian man certainly knew better than to buy that charade and yet, for now he was willing to put up with that change in topic. "We met in France." He stated simply enough, pausing only to glance upwards at the King as if this was enough. That ready look of amused curiosity, however, was enough to prompt him to continue in far more detail, even if it was accompanied with a soft sigh. "There was this Roman commander named Syagrius. He was in charge of this state in Northern Gaul. Roman rule was beginning to get a bit too....big for my tastes. The Frenchman named Clovis killed Syagrius and wanted to unify all of the Frankish Kingdoms under one flag. It caught my interest enough to join them for a time. Matteo was amongst Clovis' ranks. He was...young at the time. No more than a mere foot soldier with visions most wouldn't even acknowledge. I took a liking to him and within two years we'd helped Clovis conquer all the Kingdoms west of the Meuse river and assisted in establishing the city of Paris as his capital." It was only natural, truly, that he would have met the man in the thick of war. During those years it was but wars and hunting that interested him in the slightest. Those years the council had little for him were often spent throwing himself in every conceivable conflict he could find. Those days, however, were long gone. A small shrug crossed his shoulders at the end of that tale, as if establishing one of the world's greatest cities was truly nothing of great interest, rather, Alexander pushed himself away from the counter, only to gesture slightly with his hand up those stairs and towards his own personal flat. "I have a...gift for you, Dorian. You can bring your coffee. Just...don't get too excited."