He could see the way his companion's features frowned, that delicate furrow of the Hunters brow displaying a far greater displeasure then he so outwardly showed and yet Matteo had spent a near eternity in the man's company. He knew Alexander near as well as he knew himself. The Hunter was displeased at Dorian's choice of consort, the Frenchman not unwilling to admit that he was hardly any more pleased himself. After all, that vampire breed were distinctly dangerous creatures. Irritable and bad tempered at their best, violent and sadistic at their worst and yet for reasons even he himself hardly knew some measure of faith so refused to diminish itself within him. He did not make a habit of trusting easily nor readily. Indeed those few beings whom knew the French Fae well would describe him as wholly guarded, especially when it came to himself and those few beings he still held dear after all these years. Dorian perhaps the most precious of them and yet here he was- so trusting the very life off his own child and heir to a vampire. The very madness off it surely reflected in Alexanders sharpened gaze upon him and yet in this the Fae remained unyielding. If Sebastian was Dorian's choice as fate had long since predicted it would be then he would make his peace with it. In this he would support his son even if it displeased Alexander no end. A part of the Frenchman almost pleased for his friends continued suspicion. That disconcerting nature of the hunter could only serve them well.

His own lip twitched just so at that renowned scowl that danced upon his companions face at that mere mention of the word 'fate'. For as long as he had known the Hunter the man had been determined to overcome it, rise above it or indeed find some way to carve his own path. It was an admirable quality if nothing else. Alexander one of the few beings Matteo had ever truly seen bend those desires of fate with his sheer will alone and yet he had hardly ever breathed a word of it to the Hunter. To inform Alexander that he had, on occasion, forced fate to be rewritten would be to stoke his ego beyond anything Matteo was so willing to suffer again. No. It was better to simply let him scowl. For the most part after all, fate was indeed set in stone whether an individual desired it or not. In the end fate always won. Perhaps it was that very fate he had so been observing of Sebastian and Dorian and but a handful of others all these centuries that almost inclined him to his future son-in-law in a fashion. After all he had seen the boy grow. He had seen Sebastian when he was no more than a mere child as innocent as any other. He had seen him grow, become a man and so unfortunately a vampire in turn. He had seen what he was capable off and yet still there was an...affection of sorts for him. Nothing at all like that emotion that so tethered him to Dorian, or even to Alexander, yet there was something that existed within him when it came to that English fellow. Even if he hardly cared to admit it. He could only hope, truly, that the vampire would not prove him wrong. God but he hoped he had not misplaced his faith in that damn vampire boy! Matteo so hardly believing that day would come when he might defend him. The things he did for Dorian.

"I know what you say is true, Alexander. Tell me though, what other choice do I have? I can refuse to offer them my blessing and yet if it came down to it I do not truly believe Dorian would choose me- not over Sebastian. He is happy, Alex. Happier then I have seen him in six hundred years and I....do not have the heart to ruin that. I cannot. Think me weak if you will but it is what it is. They are happy, both of them."For now that would need be enough. That assurance that Sebastian truly did seem to love Dorian simply for who he was rather then what he might gain from such a union prompting that sigh from the Hunter himself, Matteo so allowing that simper to touch his own lips in the subtle defeat that seemed to settle upon the other man in this. Alexander, it seemed, need simply come to terms with what Matteo himself already had. Like it or not, Dorian had chosen Sebastian and in the end they could only truly watch over them and so hope that faith was not misplaced. That roll of the Hunter's eyes at his assertion that he had perhaps been overly harsh when it came to instilling within that vampire a healthy dose of fear was hardly missed. Matteo allowing that rich chuckle to fall form his own lips. His gaze briefly lingering upon that now empty teacup and yet he knew already Alexander would deny him that further drink. Pride so seeing him refuse to ask for me, his gaze averted lest Alexander spy him looking at it with any kind of want.

"Truly it is not. Sebastian is, how might I put this, a man inclined to worry. He is almost a little too easy to tease. Out rightly terrifying him would not be too difficult. I often say obscure things in his presence merely to watch him worry over them. I am terrible I know."That all-too knowing grin traced his features once more, Matteo assured he had not truly given Sebastian anything too unpleasant to worry off. At least, not in the manner either he or Alexander were truly capable when they desired it. The mention of that wedding seeming to ensnare even the Hunters attention then as he inquired after it, Matteo's shoulders rolling in the briefest of shrugs as his fingers drummed against that chair. "You need not dust off your tux just yet, there are still decisions to be made." That almost disgruntled sound from within the man prompted that soft roll of the Frenchman's own eyes before that promise to avenge his son should any harm come to him was met with a simple nod. Matteo wholly aware that those words were not uttered lightly or with any lack of intent. "If there is anything left of him when I am done with him I shall deliver it to you- you have my word."

Those French lyrics fell softly from his own lips. Alexander was good Godfather, even despite the Hunters refusal to support what he believed to be a falsified religion and weakened god. It was hardly for that religious guidance Matteo had so bestowed it upon him for all the same, rather, it was what that very role so represented. The Frenchman as assured in that moment as he had been the night of Dorians birth that if something were to so happen to him that Alexander would be there to watch over his son even if the pair had hardly discussed such a thing. He simply knew it to be true. That protectiveness readily ablaze in the age-old Hunter even if he might deny it. That shift in conversation to what Alexander had so thought of Dorian himself after finally meeting the boy after all these years prompted the return of that simper to Matteo's own lips, the man bemoaning that simple innocence his son seemed to possess. That inherent belief that the world and all within it were good and yet- had he not once been much the same? I could not agree more. He added softly. Matteo leaning back within that chair, the man content to let talk of those long-forgotten days past as he inquired instead after Alexanders own protégé, that delightful little Russian girl he'd been sending birthday cars too for years even despite having met her only a handful of times. That notion she was in town seeing one eye lift upward. That mention of a child-vampire resulting in that flare of red to his gaze as vibrant and bright as the stars outside themselves.

Caution Anastasia against this child, if nothing else. If you come across her yourself though, this Anna-Marie, it would be in your best interest to eliminate her. Do not stay your sword, do you hear? Trust me on this. He offered little more, his own vision on this distinctly...hazy and yet if anything could be achieved from it he was assured the vampire child offered nothing pleasant. That silver-hue so readily returning to his gaze then as that subtle smile appeared. How endearing it was to see his old friend so disgruntled about his own protégé."She was always wilful, that one. Pass on my regards to her when you see her next. Have you considered just buying her a new music box? What is so bloody important about this one?" Thank the heavens he had not been given a daughter. Women- for all he loved about them- were creatures he might never understand. His gaze glanced toward that clock then, that hour growing later, the Frenchman disappearing from that chair only to reappear atop Alexander's bed. His arms rested behind his head as he laid it upon the pillow then, one long leg folding over the other as stretched himself out. The man shifted to one side, assuring Alexander at least had half that bed as he made himself comfortable."I was intending on returning to Chambord this evening, but I have reason to believe my rent has increased extensively. In this case I suppose I will simply need stay here for the evening with my good friend, Alexander, whom is happy to put me up for the evening I am sure."

Dorian Aragona