Ah, but he had not seen this very betrayal coming! His very efforts to insist Dorian not allow himself to fall down that path of defiance and eye-rolling and back talking so prompting not only another roll of Aiden's own eyes and that insistence he 'shut up' but too- Alexander's ready declaration that such defiance seemed strikingly familiar. The Frenchman's own silvered gaze narrowed readily upon his eldest of companions then. Alexander doing little to support his position in this. Rather, the age-old Hunter seemed to take some ready delight in adding only further justification to Aiden's cause by suggesting Matteo himself had not been so terribly different all those years ago. Surely he had not been quite as difficult as Aiden had he? Matteo content to consider several moments or events in which he supposed he had pushed Dear Alexander to the very brink of sanity and patience with him and yet he was quite assured he had never been so....moody as his own Aiden was (perhaps rightfully) inclined to be over the world at large. Perhaps later tonight he would need query Alexander upon it further. The Frenchman inclined to offer him that ner dubious look all the same before his attention so returned to the kitchen and the sheer wealth of food that required presentation upon the table.

It had hardly been a difficult thing, in any sense, to tailor not only that Macaroni and Cheese for Aiden but too- to find time to make that far more traditional English dish for his own son-in-law. Something that might appeal to both Sebastian's inner Englishman and too that vampiric nature that craved far more than merely food. Matteo was, perhaps, willing to admit that for all the veritable joy he took in so teasing the unfortunate Englishman he could hardly deny that Sebastian had been decidedly useful to him this past year. That very venom the vampire had supplied, even if he hardly remembered it, had proven to be nothing short of critical to his own work and yet, more so than that, for all the anxiety he so knew his own presence prompted in the vampire he could hardly deny how very.....good Sebastian was for Dorian. This past year by far the happiest his own son had ever been in near all his living memory of the boy. A distinctly large portion of that happiness so hardly attributed to himself as much as it was that English vampire- even if such a thing so required him to share his eldest son. The very presentation of that dish, he knew, despite that careful control of emotion upon the vampires features had perhaps only served the baffle the man all the more and yet, simple though a gesture it surely was, he so strove to display at least some amount of both acceptance and thanks toward Sebastian. That very dish one of the few distinct gestures of goodwill he had ever made toward the man. Matteo offering him that warm simper in turn before insisting upon just what sort of blood had been used in its creation. Ah, but how suspicious Sebastian appeared all the same! Matteo quote unable to prevent that flutter of amusement as he continued to lay out the rest of that food and Sebastian continued to eye that dish with equal parts desire and veritable fear over some concern it might yet prove to be a ruse. What an amusing creature his son-in-law was.

It was only once that turkey had been placed in front of Alexander for carving that Matteo finally so took his own seat beside Aiden. That very insistence he was assured both off his son's could benefit from referring to him as 'sir' as he once been the manner of the world prompting that disapproving look from Dorian and near equally timed snots of derision from Aiden and Alexander. Sebastian, it seemed, his only ally at this very table. His silver gaze glancing readily toward the vampire then only for Sebastian to have become all but fixated upon his meal. Well, at least the man appeared to like it. Still, Alexander's very insistence that he too had once struggled with the concept of the use of the word 'sir' seemed to prompt that pout from the Frenchman in turn. Matteo wholly quick to defend his own youthful actions. The near ancient Fae, in that moment, oblivious to the manner in which his figure had taken up a near identical stance to Aiden's own from moments before. Matteo inclined to realise his error far to late. His gaze cutting readily sideways in some vague hope Aiden had not noticed that very thing only to find those emerald yes upon him with astute sharpness. That insistence he shut up falling from his own lips then before he moved to hurriedly right himself- only for Aiden to afford him that playful shove. Matteo unable to prevent that simper that found his lips all the same. How very quick both men so found a near boyishness between them when given that chance! Those accented words offered toward Aiden once more.

"If it is from me you inherited your infamous arm-folding ways then at least you do it effectively. I am pleased you inherited something so useful from me. Such a legacy I leave."

That ready, teasing sarcasm was so punctured with his own soft chuckle and yet he had so hardly anticipated Dorian and Aiden both seeking those tales from Alexander. Ah! But how many tales there were he was assured were better not known. Especially by his own sons. The near ancient Fae quick to find his companions true name upon his lips along with that very warning that whatever tale Alexander offered would likely be returned in kind. The ever-astute Hunter returning near indignantly that he would merely keep those finer tales for when Matteo himself was not present. The Frenchman offering his own soft snort then as he further helped himself to several potatoes and his first bite of turkey. That meat nothing short of succulent. Matteo inclined to find favour in his own cooking this very evening before eyeing his own father figure once more with a near abject wariness for that tale. Matteo wholly aware, from that first moment, just which tale the Hunter had settled upon. That heavy sigh falling from is own lips in response and yet he made no move to prevent its retelling. His own affinity for future, in those younger years, had been distinctly less practiced. His ability to understand his own visions even less so. Matteo having not only misread that battle and its location but too- he had failed to grasp the time that battle would take place so resulting in Alexander's army having arrived distinctly....earlier for that particular engagement. A very tale they had since laughed over several times and yet how utterly wild Alexander had been with him at the time! The amount of money and resources and men and horses wasted in marching four thousand men in the wrong direction and for several weeks had been near immeasurable. Let alone that veritable blow to both their reputations his mistake had caused them.

"I think, at the time, it was near the angriest you had ever been with me. You gave me the dressing down of a lifetime and then assigned me to watch over the damn sheep for three days because, if I recall, you said they were the only things I was fit to lead. You were an ass."

That ready simper so found his lips at that memory all the same, his head shaking lightly. How....long ago it had been and yet how he remembered it all the same. It had taken near three days, he suspected, for Alexander's temper to calm enough to send for him again, let alone to convince those troops to march all the way back and yet- he still remembered Alexander wading through those sheep three days later to find him to talk. How young Matteo had been then! And how utterly wilful. Yet it had still meant the world, then, for Alexander to forgive him that error and too- assure him he had hardly lost faith in him. That very day one of the first times Alexander had ever referred to him as 'like his own son' and how much that had meant. That memory, even now, prompting that simper once more before that near impish look so found him. His gaze returned to Alexander again.

"You know, I never told you, but I lost four of those sheep over three days. I feel asleep watching them. I didn't have the balls to tell you back then."

How easily he so fixed the Hunter with that near toothy, ridiculous smile if only for the very look upon Alexanders face. That ready laughter falling from him once more before Dorian asked after the rest of that tale. His son so suggesting those places he too hoped to visit before offering that very trip of sorts to Aiden. A trip Matteo had perhaps been.....inclined to assure had aligned near perfectly with this very evening and yet he offered no such indication here and now. The Frenchman so allowing his features to remain distinctly nonchalant as he continued with his own meal. Aiden, however, was perhaps more perceptive than he so truly gave his younger son credit for. The WereKings eyes narrowing abruptly upon him then as if the sheer coincidence off a Lamborghini factory was perhaps a little more then the emerald eyed man was willing to accept had occurred by the notions of fate alone. Matteo affording him a distinct (and purposefully annoying vague) shrug as he took another bite off his meal His gaze glancing upward again.

"I don't know what you mean."

How readily that knowing simper so danced upon his lips all the same. That very look, perhaps, so giving away to some measure of his involvement and yet, while he had, perhaps, had a hand in making sure that invitation was extended to Dorian's Court- it was Dorian alone and without any measure of prompting from himself whom had offered it to Aiden. Matteo merely having assisted a little in the timing of that even and tonight's dinner. Was it truly a terrible thing to so encourage his sons to spend time with one another alone? How very destined they were, in time, to value each other....immeasurably. He was merely assisting them on finding that path sooner rather than later. Matteo's own gaze shifted briefly sideways at the soft sigh that left Aiden's lips. Prompting any level of excitement from the man over anything relatively akin to drawing blood from a stone and yet- he had already foreseen just how much Aiden and Dorian both were set to enjoy that very trip. His younger son's agreement met with that simple nod off his own head in assurance of those fears he knew turned readily below the surface.

"It is perfectly okay with me, Mon Amie. All will be well."

Those very words were worded so specifically so as not to offer any further curiosity toward Dorian or Sebastian and just why Aiden might suddenly seek his permission.The Fae offering them with a simple nonchalance and yet laced with that promise of safety all at once. He would turn his eyes upon that future again well before and during that trip and yet with Aiden's teleportation abilities so coming along they were afforded an even wider safety margin. The future, for now, holding nothing but pleasantness for that time away. Matteo wholly quick to press that conversation forward then before Dorian had any chance to query Aiden, here and now, on anything that might prevent his taking that trip.

"I think though it is time we heard a tale of Alexander, no? The year is 1215, England. The First Barons War. Several wealthy landowners in England, The Barons, with the backing of the French army under Louis VIII went to war agianst King John of England. Sebastian, I am sure, could tell you all about his countries infamous King John. Needless to say, The Barons were being led by one Robert Fitzwalter, an absolute tower of a man at nearly six foot seven and as broad as the side of a barn. Our dear Alexander managed to get into quite the argument with him over how best to take the stronghold of Dover. Alex never did take well to being told he could not do something. Fitzwalter said Dover could not be taken from the South side. Alexander argued it was the only sensible side as it was flat and open for his cavalry."

Matteo paused then, affording that near teasing glance to his eldest companion before continuing.

"I had the great misfortune that day of standing beside Alexander while this argument became only more heated. Alex, in his day, was not afraid of coming to blows with someone if need be and yet on this particular occasion Alexander felt the need to duck that rather terrific right hook Fitzwalter aimed at him. That blow collided directly with me instead. I was too busy trying to keep my future sight on the battle occurring further down the hill and I was knocked completely unconscious. Alexander then had to carry me nearly five miles back to our encampment where instead of waiting for me to recover and tell him what would happen if he marched South- he proceeded to do so anyway. Do you remember what happened then Alex? Apparently Fitzwalter was right. You can't attack dover from the South- because between the castle and the flat open battlefield there was a giant bloody ravine with no bridge!"

In fairness to his companion, that very ravine had been marked on no maps and given the nature of the battle the day before there had been little chance to scout ahead. Yet how it had amused him to see Alexander storm back into camp that day!

"He swore revenge on the ravine after that. It took him a year and a half after the battle finished- but he built the fucking bridge."


m a t t e o
it's tough to be a god