i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

It was bemusing to the ancient Monarch, how very delicate his Godson was. Such language hardly the most obscene he had heard, much less the crudest the table alone had heard and yet, how readily Dorian seemed to take offense to such language. The Dark Hunter's own gaze rolled ever so slightly and yet, the quick-witted man could hardly help his own desire to rise to the occasion. "Are you sure everyone at this table has some?" He inquired, providing Matteo an almost pointed look. After all, the fae had all but uttered mere moments ago how he'd lacked that very courage to inform the Macedonian Commander of just how much money he'd lost all those years ago, quite literally letting his fellow soldier's pay simply wander off! Truly, it was baffling to think that Matteo had thought he wouldn't notice, considering just how astute the Dark Hunter was to all matters of his army, particularly those that kept his own soldiers happy and, most importantly, fighting for him. Even so, he could hardly help that rich sound of laughter upon his lips as Matteo so cursed him for keeping that knowledge to himself after all these years - the Dark Hunter more than capable of biding his time if only for those rare glimpses of genuine astonishment upon his Oracle's features. How they brought him such joy! That jovial grin to his features hardly diminished in the slightest as Matteo reached over, the fae's hand shoving at his shoulder in an almost playful fashion. That singular gesture one that the pair had exchanged over and over again over those infinitely long years and yet, for now, Alexander saw no reason to so combat it when such a feast lay before them, ready for the taking.

That tale he had offered the small party, however, seemed to prompt even further thoughts upon Matteo's son as Dorian spoke of those very places he so desired to visit - places that Alexander had been to time and time again and yet, if only Dorian knew of the veritable world that now lay at his feet! Oh, the places he'd like to ensure the boy went to and yet, he supposed, with all the infinite time ahead of them, there would be plenty of time for Dorian to see every corner of that world. His own blue-green gaze shifted slightly towards Matteo, the Dark Hunter all too aware of that subtle hint of utter contentment hidden within the corners of that soft smile that afflicted the fae. How long Matteo had waited for this very moment - the Frenchman all but refusing to give up on his son despite those years that had passed. They'd hunted far and wide for some witch capable of breaking that spell, for any artifact or potion that might free him before the magic wore off, if it ever did. It was all worth it though, those years they wasted, just for this very moment. He placed a piece of that turkey into his mouth, simply watching as Dorian turned his attention instead to mortal man slouching within his chair. One day, they'd too ensure that the tenacious boy found himself free of the chains that so gripped him. One day.

The Macedonian King drew his thoughts from such bloodthirsty contemplations as Aiden so quickly rounded upon the Frenchman - so clearly questioning the Oracle's involvement in that invitation extended to him. Admittedly, it bemused him just how quickly the boy was so able to piece together Matteo's involvement, despite the fae's attempt to appear nothing less than utterly ignorant. How very well Aiden so knew the fae! Those years in which the man had acted as his veritable father clearly prompting a sort of closeness between the two, the very sort of relationship that was undoubtedly obvious to even the Italian. Alexander remained silent, however, as Aiden so tentatively requested the elder fae's permission for such a trip, that doublespeak hardly going unnoticed by the Conqueror. That simple assurance that all would be well seemed enough to sedate the boy's worry and yet how that simple glimpse of...worry from the young Were only furthered that hatred Alexander held for that vampiric woman that had snatched him so strikingly young. He was hardly unsurprised, however, as Matteo so strove to redirect the attention of the party at large and yet, the last thing he anticipated was that it would be with a story about him. The very mention of Dover prompted a groan from Alexander's lips - that battle one he had not heard the end of for nearly two years straight. In fact, Matteo had been near keen to remind him of it for every single day he had lingered at the edge of that ravine in the aftermath of that won city.

Readily, the Dark Hunter insisted that Matteo should have seen that punch coming, even though the Fae's future sight was hardly as keen then as it was now. That snort from the Frenchman caused the Hunter to lean back within his chair, his arms crossing over his chest in that almost adamant manner. "You were fine!" Alexander insisted with a soft huff on his lips. "It taught you to always keep your sight on the present." It was, admittedly, so typically Alexander to twist his own failing, of sorts, into a far more purposeful lesson. Although the Macedonian was well aware of Matteo's goading efforts, thanks to that impish grin that so typically gave the fae away, that age-old argument was perhaps far too embedded within him to simply take the higher ground. Instead, Alexander leaned forward, that fork pointed at the Matteo as he insisted for what was surely the thousandth time that the whole situation could be avoided had Fitzwalter merely told him about the ravine instead of merely insisting the city could not be taken from such a direction! How purposefully vague the man had been about the whole affair! It was Matteo's insistence that he should have ensured a better scout had been sent to provide him the very layout of the land that caused his lips to part with a glimpse of indignation. Those words, however, never left the Dark Hunter's mouth as Dorian inquired so abruptly upon that very bridge that he had overseen the building of.

His sea colored irises turned towards the younger fae, the Dark Hunter was almost taken aback by the naivety of that very inquiry. How well known Alexander's own tendencies were! Aiden himself so commenting softly that he had a 'thing' for bridges. How many stories had Matteo so regaled the child with?! Softly, Alexander cleared his own throat as his attention shifted back towards Dorian. "To prove to Fitzwalter that the city could indeed be taken from the South, of course." He responded simply with a small shrug upon his shoulder. Alexander was hardly prepared, however, for Dorian's own well-poised transition to that Thanksgiving tradition, one Matteo and himself had certainly never partaken of. The very mention of it prompted a groan not only from the throat of Matteo but too the boy at his side, though truthfully, he could hardly blame either of them. Dorian was, after all, entirely protected from the travesties of the world in ways that neither his sibling nor his father had been. A flicker of amusement crossed his own features, in spite of that manner in which Aiden's own gaze turned towards his plate and Matteo seemed to take a keen interest in folding his napkin. He would like to see how either of them so planned to get out of this. Slowly, his blue-green gaze shifted towards the Englishman, Sebastian so clearly elected to have the pleasure of going first.

The vampire's response was nothing short of expected, the Prince the very epitome of his aristocratic upbringing. That answer equally as polite as he the men of that Georgian era. He watched as Sebastian turned almost expectantly towards the young Were and yet, even Alexander was inquisitive to what would so leave the boy's lips. After all, that world of brutal hardship he'd so grown up within hardly left a great deal of room for blessings. That clear hint of sarcasm upon the Alpha's lips prompted a small snort from Alexander, though he could hardly fault the boy as Aiden so declared himself thankful for alcohol. Hell, even he was thankful for that alluring taste of liquor, one Matteo and himself had indulged in far too many times over the years for some sort of blissful reprieve from one thing or another. Still, it was that almost challenging stare that the emerald eyed man presented Matteo with that intrigued him most. How the boy so kept such a fiery spirit in spite of everything was nothing short of a mystery. Though, perhaps it was expected, with what he knew of that very fate Matteo had once spoken of. Slowly, the Dark Hunter's blue-green irises shifted towards the Frenchman, simply watching that contemplative glimpse upon Matteo's features, even if he knew, to some extent of the very words that would surely leave the fae's lips. After all - how far they have gone for just this?

It was, perhaps, so typically Matteo to be so unable to leave a good sentiment to be just that, the man's impish nature so declaring he too appreciated that legacy that he left behind within his wake. He could hardly help the roll of his own eyes and yet, he saw little reason to intrude before the fae nodded ever so slightly within his general direction. His own blue-green eyes swept over that table and those participants, the Dark Hunter, admittedly, hardly giving a great amount of consideration to the true depths of all he was thankful of. The vast amount over the years surely far too much to filter through when Dorian so sought an answer far more sentimental. "I am thankful we all made it here...in spite of death." His gaze briefly fluttered towards the vampire at the table - the boy's fate, admittedly, a result of Matteo and his own failure. "....and prisons..." How long had they tried for Dorian, and how long too would they still try for Aiden. "...and lost love....and all of the bleak hopelessness...." How many tears had been spilled for the loss of Dorian's mother, for sons that could not be saved, for wounds that would not heal and fates that count not be altered. "....I'm thankful we saw it all through...to make it here together."