Matteo

It's tough to be a god

Ah, but how he enjoyed Andras' good humour! The other man, he had decided, was agreeable company. Indeed, Andras was the very sort of company he found himself near favouring. It was a decidedly rare thing to find another being close to himself in age. One whom so effortlessly understood the pull and sway of the world and too- had survived to tell those very tales of it in turn. Any being whom had lived as long as Andras, as himself, was surely one worth befriending rather than seeking to disgruntle in any sense. It was that very notion of such disgruntlement that perhaps prompted that shift of talk to his own Dorian and his husband. Sebastian near destined to disapprove of his lover travelling through portals without either his consent or knowledge. Andras indeed so existing in several possible futures in which he received a rather notable right hook from the British vampire for his endeavours. For all Sebastian's faults- his love for Dorian simply could not be argued. If there was any being whom loved his son with that same potent fierceness as himself it was surely Sebastian and for that Matteo was inclined to find himself...grateful, for the Englishman. Even if he remained inclined to tease him unmercifully. An act his younger son was equally as destined to scold him for when the moment came. Such thoughts, for now, were easily cast aside in the wake of Andras so considering he might fairly allow Sebastian one hit if only because he understood how very terrifying that portal travelling might have been for Dorian and that Sebastian, as his staunch defender, was entitled to some retribution. That very grin on Andras' face so coaxing that laughter from the depths ofMatteo's own throat. Tht near impish grin brushing the Frenchmans lips.

"Ah, if that is what you wish, Mon Amie. I shall watch from a distance and chuckle at your chosen misfortunate. Frankly, I am rather curious to see Sebastian punch anyone at all. He's very mild, most of the time. His blood does not heat easily."

Another hint of amusement tugged smoothly at his features as the pair downed those drinks with that same, casual ease of men whom had, perhaps, become far too familiar with alcohol over the years. That conversation shifted once more to Andras' ward of sorts. The name Navi a wholly curious one. Matteo finding himself intrigued by this fairy girl whom seemed more like a child than a grown woman. One whom had seemingly given Andras his fair share of trouble with her manner and desire to so apparently live in a tree. Ah, but the fantasies of children so rarely grew old! How surely he did not miss those imaginative games Doran had played as a child in which Matteo himself was so implored to be a pirate or a dragon or some other ridiculous villian that his son might flee from in those moments of boyish games. Yet, while he hardly missed those hours having been spent indulging his elder sons imagination he so found he near.....longed for those moments with his younger child. For that childhood Aiden had been robbed off. His own head shook lightly, dismissing those very thoughts with another mouthful of that liquor as Andras admitted he had, perhaps, bitten off more than he could chew when it came to Navi

"You have no children of your own, in all this time?"

Surely, in all those centuries Andras had lived he had managed to father at least one child. Illegitimate or otherwise. Matteo, in turn, surely having welcomed his fair share of bastard children to the world throughout those expansive years. He could name them still, every one of them, even if it was Dorian and Aiden's lives alone he had ever chosen to take part in. Andras, in turn, was a decidedly...attractive individual. The Frenchman assured that the other Fae had taken far more then merely Lani to his bed over the years. Matteo hardly caring for the prying nature of the question. Once a man had so chased you about his home and near flattened that residence in turn there was little need for formalities, he was sure. That sudden offer to join Andras court was unexpected. That clear note of surprise so found the Frenchmans features then. Matteo inclined to feel near...pleased at that very invitation even if his own vows to the army of one man alone so surely sawy him prevented from taking up that position. Matteo having chosen, long ago, not to join any Court. Still, that very offer was endearing all the same. The near ancient Fae's simper hardly falling from his lips as he insisted he would keep that offer in mind- before allowing his mind to shift entirely to the women of Somnia. After all, such a place was so surely filled with women had not yet met! That simper upon his lips appearing near impish again. Ah, he was surely getting too old for such things and yet how readily the appeal of women never lessened! That easy, good nature so remaining all the same at Andras' words and insistence some of those women were happily married. Matteo assured several of his greatest conquests had once described themselves as 'happily married'. Andras insisting he could surely introduce him to several all the same. Matteo so allowing his silver gaze to rest playfully upon Andras once more.

"Do you know, it is a shame you are so taken with your Lani. I think, you would make a very good, how you say, homme aile, wing man."

Those French words rolled smoothly from his tongue. The eternally youthful Fae grinning once more before offering his assistance, some day, should Andras find himself in need. The other man inclined to appear througful a moment before suggesting he might require it sooner rather than later and changing that topic once more. Hmmm. How very curious. Prhap Andras knew more of the future then he cared to show. Matteo himself having peered into it several times. Andras, in those coming months, so set to truly be tested in far more ways than one. That very knowledge, as always, so kept to Matteo himself. The Frenchman instead casting his gaze about that rather.....destroyed room before inquiring as to whether or not Andras might desire he repair it. That idle wave of the elder Fae's hand brushing off that idea of debt with good-natured ease once more.

"You have already paid this debt, Mon Amie. This drink is very good."

The price of a drink, it seemed, was all the Frenchman required. That very glass was placed upon the table then. That affinity for restoration summoned easily to his fingers, an abrupt wave of his hand readily seeing that room rapidly begin to repair itself. The very house itself, within a manner of moments, restored to just the way it had been before Andras' outrage. Every break and crack and tear and leak healed in its entirety. Matteo so nodding in satisfaction at his work before reaching for his drink again.

"Try not to break it again."

That easy chuckle once more hummed within his throat, Matteo reaching over toshove the other Fae's shoulder in that gentle playful fashion before he settled further back within that couch. Hos surely the world still called to him and yet.....they could surely survive one evening without him. The near ancient being decidedly...content with that drink, that sofa and his current company. Matteo so suddenly asking after Andras' lack of wife. He was hardly surprised, perhaps, that none of those lovers had become anything more. To marry into that Fae society of royalty was no simple task. A life spent being hunted in turn surely not for most. Andras near lamenting how very fragile Lani had been as Matteo's own head simply shook.

"We cannot help who we fall in love with, Mon Amie. Sometimes it turns out for the better, sometimes for the worst. Either way, we learn something from it. We meet no one in our lives by chance. There is a reason for it all."

Ah, but how surely he knew the truth of those very words. Fate so inclined to shift and change before his very eyes to moment some beings crossed paths. Matteo allowed that simper to find his lips once more, one eye lifting ever so slightly.

"You will marry one day. It is as I said though, whatever Lani should choose, in the end, it will work out for all."

Just when, or too who, so apparently remained to be seen. Matteo offering little more than that in the habit he was accustomed and Dorian found so infuriating. Those very words so offered in response to Andras' assurance he had come to terms with the notion that Lani might not yet be prepared to stay at his side. The Frenchman, once more, saying little of that future he had seen. Some things, some futures, better left to make their own path. That sudden question of his own marital status coaxing that fleeting look of surprise to his features before his head simply shook.

"No. The woman I loved more than any other was already married when we met. A political marriage. She could not simply leave him, you know how it was in those days, no? People did not divorce. I was the 'other' man for over twenty years. Her husband despised me. She was human- and she died. The Balck Plague. She...would not let me change her. She gave me Dorian though. I see much of her in him."

How...precarious those emotions he felt over Isabella. That love for her had hardly lessened over the years and yet....she had chosen to die. Chosen to leave him. He had, somehow, not been enough for her. Yet too, impossibly, even Dorian had not been enough for her to stay alive. That very resentment he still felt for that day equally as potent as that affection. How very conflicted he was upon it, even now, Matteo so hardly allowing those emotions to find his features all the same as he regarded his companion. Ever the liar when it came to his own emotions. A perfect mask.

"After her I merely set about...enjoying the world. It is a very big place and there is a lot to enjoy."