i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

There was an undeniable hint of amusement within the far corners of Alexander's lips as all eyes turned pointedly towards Matteo. There was no denying the Frenchman had meddled in the trio's affairs to ensure each and every individual within the room made it here this Thanksgiving. Alexander was more than content to merely sip upon the liquor in his drink, unaccosted by those accusations that Matteo now faced. It was Dorian's sudden declaration that alcohol was needed, however, that prompted the age-old hunter to speak up, particularly after Matteo had indulged himself within that fine Brandy. That glimpse of disbelief upon the Frenchman's features, however, prompted a small simper on his own features as Dorian took his glass with the clear intention of refilling it. Alexander's gaze lingered upon Dorian, simply watching the fae boy as he so saw to ensuring each member ha a beverage. It was particularly peculiar behavior for the fae King. His godson was much a product of his own time, his first reaction to often order the servants to fill those beverages rather than doing so himself. The very action was clearly an effort to escape that situation for a brief moment, to so right his thoughts under the guise of filling tumblers and yet, Dorian seemed to be coping well enough.

Alexander listened as Matteo recounted with half truth's and maybes exactly how close the two men had come to meeting a near plethora of times prior to this very moment. Sebastian himself playing a large role in righting that apartment before it was returned to Tetradore's care. At the very least, he supposed he was pleased the vampire had proven to be responsible even if Alexander remained doubtful of Dorian's union with the Englishman. He took that glass Dorian offered, the Dark Hunter more than content to simply watch the duo of newly formed brothers. How curious Matteo's Aiden was. He was near the exact opposite of Dorian, far quieter and more prone to considering each word that left his lips whilst Dorian seemed all but content to prattle on with both curiosity and perhaps a smidgen of excitement at finding himself with a brother, adopted though it was. Frankly, given what he knew of Aiden's past, perhaps that difference between the two men was hardly surprising. Indeed, now that he had finally met Aiden, Alexander almost found himself pitying the boy, almost prompting the sleeping conquerer within him back to some resemblance of wakefulness. If only Matteo had allowed him to set the boy free all those years ago - though, he trusted the Frenchman's affinities and those futures that could not be.

Alexander's blue-green eyes briefly met that striking silver hue of Matteo's own. He knew well just how much tonight meant to Matteo - to have both of his sons under one roof, safe, sound, and happy. A small simper crossed his features, the Dark Hunter was, truly, pleased to see Matteo's own dream slowly unfold after all these years of such careful, astute planning. His attention shifted much with Matteo's own back to that singular word Dorian seemed to be struggling with. Motorcycle. That very word seemed to prompt that telling hue to Matteo's otherwise ethereal gaze. The future, it seemed, had something to say of that very topic of motorbikes. The sight of that frown caused Alexander's eyebrow to raise ever so slightly as he rose his glass to his lips, the man hardly intruding upon Matteo's unanticipated effort to parent his adult sons. After all, he knew well their safety had always been the Frenchman's utmost concern. He watched in silence, observing the trio of far younger men as their gaze turned towards the ever lackadasical Ambassador. It was almost humorous, truly, to imagine Dorian having any true proficiency upon a motorcycle. With the very speeds that bike alone could achieve, much less the very danger that it would put Dorian in should an accident occur.

He watched as Matteo, rather than truly make some effort to parent his eldest son, instead merely employ a far more underhanded trick. The vampire. That simple declaration that Dorian might injure himself seemed, in turn, to prompt one, stern glance from Sebastian, all but silencing any protest Dorian might have made. That decision apparently final. Any further conversation of motorcycles cut off by Matteo's declaration that dinner was surely ready to eat. That announcement alone was all that was necessary for Alexander to make his way towards the dinner table, the man's lackadaisical meandering paused only by Matteo's sudden insistence that Alexander had moved that plate. He had, of course, and yet the Macedonian King was all but willing to deny it with some faux innocence that he knew well they both could see through. That rare mischievousness within the Monarch was all but snuffed at the very threat that the Hunter might be forced to consume his least favorite bits of the turkey. That pout apparently sufficient enough to prompt a pleased glimpse upon Matteo's features as the Frenchman made his way towards the kitchen, leaving Alexander to take his own earned place at the very head of the dining room table.

Alexander leaned back in his seat, his Brandy placed in front of him as he listened to the two boys talk, his own interest far more trained upon the kitchen archway than the intrigue of Aiden's species. His nose twitched as that first dish made it's way towards the table, that platter of noodles a rather atypical Thanksgiving dish. He was hardly oblivious, however, to the way Aiden seemed to light up at the sight of that dish, that glance alone surely all he needed to explain it's existence and yet, even he was not prepared for the Italian King's inquiry on what was wrong with the food. His own lips parted to offer some clarification and yet, before even a syllable left the Ruler's lips, Aiden was all too quick to defend that clearly treasured dish. The boy's language was nothing short of colorful and yet, with a lifetime spent within the army, Alexander was strikingly used to such a thing. Though the words themselves might have changed over the years, the meaning certainly had not. A soft chuckle left his lips, however, at the very reaction that language had upon Dorian himself. The Italian Monarch was nothing short of refined, his very upbringing had all but eliminated such words from the fae's vocabulary. Aiden's sudden rounding upon Matteo himself, however, only furthered that genuine laughter on his lips. This alone surely made Thanksgiving worth it.

That half-hearted shrug, and equally as a half-hearted excuse, however, hardly seemed to be accepted by Aiden - the boy eying Matteo with a clear dubious glance upon his features with his arms folded like such a petulant child. He was a willful one, that very consideration of an argument upon his lips already before Matteo moved towards the kitchen to see to the rest of those dishes. That sudden pause at the kitchen door, however, much less the very words Matteo offered seemed to prompt a near immediate reaction with Dorian himself. For a moment, Alexander rolled his eyes, the Dark Hunter finally inclined to step into that role as Patriarch. "Matteo, let the boy speak as he pleases, Dorian will have to get used to it one way or another." It was dreadfully unlikely, after all, that Matteo was going to somehow convince the boy to modify his language around his new brother without any such slip ups occurring in the future. Nevertheless, Alexander was content to watch as those dishes were gathered from the kitchen, both by Matteo and Sebastian's own servants till the dining room table was nearly filled, the scent of it all but mouthwatering.

The turkey took its place before Alexander but a moment's later, the bird was nothing short of exceptional in appearance. He had, admittedly, come to expect such a level of excellence from the Frenchman over the years. He took the offered knife only to set about carving the turkey with extreme precision. Alexander deposited several pieces of the turkey upon Matteo's plate, the Dark Hunter well aware of the fae's preferences after so many years spent together. He glanced upwards at the sound of the Frenchman's voice and yet, it was that notion of 'sir' that prompted a snort from Alexander's nose. "I distinctly remember you struggling with that yourself when you first joined my army." Alexander retorted, glancing at his companion with a glimpse of a grin. How many times had Matteo been corrected in those early years to get those positions and titles exactly as they should be? Though whether it was from outright rebellion or simple ignorance remained to be seen, even after all those years.