i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

It was intriguing to consider, the vast difference between the two men that sat upon the opposite side of the table in front of him. Alexander's blue-green gaze swept over the pair of Matteo's children, simply watching with consideration as Dorian inquired after Aiden's birth and childhood. The were-feline was such a stark contrast to the far more optimistic demeanor of the Italian fae and yet, given all Alexander knew of the boy, it was hardly surprising. He was, perhaps, no better than Dorian, even despite his unwillingness to admit such a thing out loud. He had offered, before, to liberate the were-child from the clutches of the vampire woman who had held him so steadfastly and yet, Matteo had denied him each time. Those futures the Frenchman's crimson gaze saw had not quite aligned in such a way the fae found desirable - not yet. Still, he found himself inquisitive of the man who seemed to persist in spite of it all, the Dark Hunter having his own fair share inquiries and yet, they were hardly fitting, he suspected, of a dinner such as this. Instead, the Dark Hunter was wholly content to merely listen to the pair interact with one another, equally as aware of just how long it had been since Matteo and himself had a family they could call their own. It had been an eternity since the pair had gathered around for a family dinner such as this, the last of which surely had been either when Dorian's mother was still alive or the last time Alexander himself had made some effort to settle.

His gaze refocused upon the Frenchman as Matteo emerged from the kitchen with a nondescript white casserole dish between his fingers. Alexander's eyebrow rose ever so slightly as Matteo placed the dish in front of them, that pasta the very last thing Alexander anticipated to find upon their dinner table. His blue-green eyes turned upwards in a questioning fashion towards the Frenchman and yet, the Ambassador only seemed to have eyes upon a singular soul at the presentation of that dish. His gaze skirted towards Aiden, altogether surprised to see that grin upon the man's features at the simple sight of Macaroni and Cheese. That dish was, quite clearly, for the Matteo's youngest son alone. That glimpse of glee, however, was short-lived before Dorian inquired what was wrong with the cheesy pasta dish as if that very creation was nothing short of an atrocity. The corner of Alexander's own features tilted upwards in a rare grin as he listened to the green-eyed boy all but railed against the Frenchman for Dorian's utter ignorance of pasta. Of all the things! He could hardly help the chuckle upon his lips at Matteo's rather dismal efforts to simply sidestep his own failure, one that Aiden hardly seemed to buy in the slightest - exactly as he shouldn't. The boy's far more colorful language hardly went without notice by the Macedonian King and yet, with his own life largely centered around the spoils of war and awaiting battlefields, such a thing was strikingly normal to the ancient man. It was a fact he'd all but forgotten until Matteo gestured to the all but astounding features of the Italian Monarch.

The Dark Hunter's shook ever so slightly and yet, there was no denying the man's bemusement at the certainly young boy. Truly, Aiden was more akin to a teenager than a man on the cusp of his thirties and yet, he was assured that Matteo quite deserved this in some way or another. After all, raising his own son had all but been stolen from the Frenchman, thanks to the precarious situation that Matteo had found himself in with impregnating the married Queen of Italy. "He looks almost familiar." The Macedonian retorted in a clearly teasing fashion, only for Matteo to continue to correct the Were boy in some equally as vulgar fashion. Those very curse words from Matteo's lips quite nearly caused Dorian to choke upon the Brandy within his glass, causing ready laughter from Alexander. The Macedonian King easily waved off Matteo's chastising, his own amusement surely showing within the man's words as he insisted Aiden should be allowed to speak as he desired. Dorian, he was sure, would merely need to get accustomed to it in time. After all, there would undoubtedly be a time when the Monarch would not be surrounded by servants and individuals that so carefully watched and guarded their words as he had been accustomed to over the past many centuries. The modern world paled in comparison to the simple civility of the age in which they had come from. Aiden's own language was far more common than Dorian was surely used to.

Matteo hardly seemed to fight him upon such an overruling, the fae retreating back into the kitchen with naught a word as Dorian and Aiden's conversation continued without missing much of a beat, even if Aiden seemed far more hesitant to embrace his newfound sibling's appreciation for his distinct audacity. The Dark Hunter's blue-green eyes instead remained stationed upon the dining room table as it slowly began to fill with side dishes from sweetened yams to stuffing. He was scarcely oblivious to a peculiarly dark-colored sausage placed before Sebastian himself, the vampire all but astonished at the very sight of it before the fae merely offered the Englishman a smile. It seemed Matteo had finally embraced the existence of his son-in-law in some capacity. Although the pair of ancients held decidedly little favor for the undead species, he supposed exceptions had to be made on the occasion. Dorian was far more partial then he would have liked to the man and yet, Matteo had assured him that fate itself had destined them to find one another regardless of any meddling either may have one. Some loves, it seemed, were far too great to be easily sidetracked. It was a sentiment that, perhaps, Alexander understood, even if he was not prone to dwell upon that soul he had lost all those eons ago.

He saw little reason to intervene within Aiden's efforts to reassure Dorian that, despite all of those years, Matteo had not once forgotten his only blood born son. After all, it was not him that Dorian had asked to assuage those fears. He waited, instead, until the Frenchman emerged from the depths of the kitchen with that glorious turkey, the skin gleaming with succulent butter to assist in its very crispiness. It was nothing short of magnificent and yet, Alexander had come to expect such from the Frenchman after all those years. That carving knife was taken with care from Matteo as the bird was placed before him, Alexander more than content to see to the dissection of the turkey with extreme precision as those delectable pieces he knew Matteo favored were cut for his oldest companion. He hardly glanced up at Dorian's disapproving glance, allowing Matteo to merely chastize the fae only to insist that they should both refer to the man as 'sir'. A snort left his nose quite before Alexander himself had realized it, causing Matteo's silver gaze to turn towards him. That memory resurfaced all too easily as Alexander commented upon the Frenchman's own difficulty with those simple words of respect - particularly within those early days of their time within Clovis' army.

Alexander's eyebrow rose skeptically as he watched Matteo lean back within his arm, his arms folding over his chest in a very similar position as the boy beside him. The Dark Hunter's lips pressed together in an effort to camouflage his own bemusement as Matteo huffed his own retort. The fae's words stopped in the very middle of his sentence as that realization of just how much he so matched his youngest son in that very moment. He could hardly hide that smug simper upon his features as Matteo abruptly leaned forward, his own declaration to 'shut up' directed far more towards Aiden then himself. He was hardly surprised that both Dorian and Aiden were all too quick to request far more tales of Matteo's less than glorious days, back when the fae had still struggled to grasp those affinities he now effortlessly wielded. Any story he might have offered, however, was interrupted by Matteo's utterance of his true name, one so rarely spoken within this day and age. "I shall merely have to reserve the best ones for when you're not present." The Dark Hunter commented back in retort and yet, there was no doubt that he was not entirely inclined to do just that. For now, however, Alexander was certain he was capable of finding something that might sedate both boy's desires all the same.

He cut several pieces of the turkey, moving to place them upon Dorian's plate. "A few years after I joined Clovis, we were attempting to take over Soissons from Syagrius. We were roughly...four thousand strong and Matteo was convinced we would clash with Syagrius on the banks of the Somme River. I marched four thousand men across France to the Somme and convinced Clovis to hold off marching on Soissons and when we finally arrived....there were my four thousand men, the Somme, and a herd of deer. No army anywhere in sight." Alexander glanced up at Matteo, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly at the very memory of just how distinctly displeased he had been that very morning. "It turns out what Matteo saw was the river Vienne in Eastern France...twenty-one years later." That story was, perhaps, decidedly short and yet, he had been keen to remind the fae for some years later of the 'river incident' when so requesting those visions all the same. It was, admittedly, one of his more favored memories, even if at the time he had been far more irritated then he'd like to now admit. "Sebastian." The Dark Hunter muttered, quickly gaining the attention of the vampire in question before he gestured for the Englishman to pass over his plate, several more pieces of turkey already cut for the Prince himself as Alexander continued to move down their guest list in order of age.