how fate does so love the restless

How easy it was to coax that tired, worn group to take up the notion of sleep. Aiden looked near relieved at the idea and even Mira, who had bravely strived to endear herself to their family in the midst of a veritable tragedy, seemed wholly willing to embrace the idea of rest. Dorian had risen smoothly from his own seat to lead Aiden and Mira to one of the spare bedrooms that Charles had organised earlier. His elder son gestured to the ensuite bathroom attached and the doors that led out into the garden should the couple desire to explore it at any stage before softly closing the door behind him with those warmly uttered goodnights. Dorian, despite the stress and distinctly unexpected nature of Aiden's arrival, was delighted to have his sibling stay with him. The warm simper that adorned the younger Fae's lips hardly faltered. Sebastian had risen to join his husband then, Dorian's hand gently grasped his companions own before the couple had headed toward the stairs that led up to their own room. The Fae King paused briefly at the base of the staircase. Your welcome to our other spare room, if you should desire it, Matteo. It is just down the hall, on the right. The Frenchman glanced upward from that fireplace then, his hand waving loosely.

"I think I will sit up a little longer, goodnight Dorian, Sebastian. Can you turn out the lights as you leave, Mon Fils?"

Dorian's head nodded readily then, his finger flicking at the light switch, before he and Sebastian disappeared up the stairs. Matteo, for now, was left alone within that warm living room. The near sudden silence was almost....comforting. The warm, crackling fire bathed the living room in a dull orange glow. Matteo's gaze shifted back towards those flames then to stare idly at it before he reached for his empty tumbler. The Frenchman's finger ran along the rim of the glass almost contemplatively before it began to rapidly refill. The man lifted that drink to his lips. One more would hardly hurt him. His tolerance for alcohol had grown so high over the years it was near....a feat to prompt him into drunkenness of any kind. Hmmm. How unfortunate it was that even liquor was so at last beginning to fail to offer him any escape, any break, even for a moment, from the relentless weight of fate upon him and her never ending plans. A soft sigh left the Frenchman then as Matteo eased himself further back onto that plush leather couch. It was nothing short of comfortable and with that fires warmth agianst him that evening might well have been near perfect- if not for the circumstances that had led to it. How...desperately he desired but even a glimpse of happiness for Aiden. Perhaps Mira, with her determined personality, might prove good for his son yet. The girl had already proven herself to be...fiery, to say the least. The very sort of woman that might yet have a chance of being able to handle Aiden and his...moods. Perhaps he shouldn't have toyed with her as he had and yet- he could hardly deny it had amused him. She had been a good sport. Perhaps he even liked her. Even if he hardly chose to admit it.

The faintest hint of a simper brushed momentarily at the Frenchman's lips before Matteo's gaze shifted to the clock upon the wall. It would be at least another hour before Aiden found himself unable to sleep and- assured that Mira would not wake- would make an effort to slip from that bedroom to find him again. How very much they had to discuss. In the very least, no lives had been lost as the Ark sunk tonight. The death of a packmate would have struck Aiden even more potently. His younger son, despite that stoic shield he held so firmly in place, cared deeply for that pack he called his own. With their safety assured it had only been a matter of time before the weight of those emotions would prove too much to bear. It was hardly a healthy coping mechanism, to attempt to conceal such an onslaught of emotion and yet....how could he fault Aiden for dealing with the weight of the world in near the same way as he himself did? The faintest sound from within the depths of Matteo's pocket prompted the fae to glance downward before he moved to fish that phone from within. The text message from Alexander lit up that screen. The near ancient Fae's features shifted into a frown. Matteo for now, was inclined to return his phone to his pocket. He could surely deal with his own Father in the morning when Alexander was less....cranky with him. Even if Alexander was hardly prone to changing his moods overnight. The Hunter and his infinite memory were...difficult sometimes. Alexander apparently had taken issue with his methods tonight.

That drink was lifted to his lips once more, Matteo savouring those flavours before his gaze turned back to the flickering flames of the fire. He could feel the power emanating from it. Those flames were vastly different to regular fire and yet the truth depth of its power remained to be seen. If that fire could be used as he suspected it could then perhaps that very game of sorts might change all over again. How very much he had to contemplate tonight. It was some time later that the faintest sound of someone heading down that hall prompted Matteo's head to turn once more. The Frenchman's silver gaze settled upon his sons figure as Aiden lingered within the doorway. The WereKings ruffled dark locks seemed all the more askew from his tried- and failed- efforts to sleep.

"Hey, Scoundrel."

It was decidedly rare for the near ancient Fae to indulge in that childish nickname he had so long held for her younger son. The affection within those words however was surely clear, their earlier argument long since cast aside as they so often were.

"You are thirty seven seconds early, Mon Amie. I cannot remember the last time you were early for anything."

A near impish look tugged but briefly at the Frenchmans features within that firelight. Matteo's hand gestured toward that spot beside him on the couch then, the invitation clear.

"The fire is still warm, if you think you should like to sit by me for a bit."