It was fortunate, perhaps, that the walk from Sebastian's home to Dorian's own was hardly far. Matteo was certain that this was altogether the most walking he had done in at least a century! The Frenchman however so hardly dares raise that topic, if only for the certainty he felt in knowing Alexander would not cease to let him forget how very far he had once been capable of walking all those centuries ago when the army trudged mile upon mile upon mile. There was every chance, too, that Alexander might make him walk once they returned to their own world. Matteo, for now, distinctly determined to avoid any of his Father's training reigemes. That home Sebastian led them too was nothing short of...grand in every fashion. This home was near exactly the sort of place Matteo could pictured his eldest son within. Everything about it spoke of Dorian's tastes- from the lush gardens to the opulent finishes and golden colour that seemed to cling to just about everything. Alexander's soft mutter of just how on earth they had missed this was met with a distinctly narrowed gaze from Matteo himself. His own words little more than a mutter in return.

"We missed it because our incubus friend wouldn't tell us which way to go."

Someone, it seemed, was still decidedly irritated at Sebastian. Matteo having proceeded to all but ignore the vampire for most of that walk as Sebastian fell behind them now. Any further consideration Matteo felt for the Incubus however was all but forgotten in the wake of the complete shock from the pair of guards that stood dutifully at the gate. Both men were inclined to stare toward the trio in utter disbelief. This....was not the greeting Matteo had anticipated. It took several moments before one guard so seemed to recover his senses enough to offer them those stammered words. The Matteo and Alexander of this world so apparently dead. Matteo's eyes lifted in clear surprise. The Frenchman momentarily at a loss for how to handle his apparent death. Had they been dead....long? Had Sebastian known this all along? Dorian, clearly, was hardly going to be expecting them in any sense. Those gates were, at last, pushed aside to admit them- the trio beginning to stride up that long drive and towards Dorian'sopulent home. Matteo's attention shifted briefly away from those gardens and the thoughts that turned hastily within his own mind to return to Sebastian. The Frenchman querying whether or not Sebastian had any notion who they were. After all, if they had died recently then surely the death of the King of Italy's Father and Grandfather would make some sort of international news, would it not? Sebastian's insistence that he had no idea who they were prompted a frown to the Frenchman's features once more. How long had they been dead for in this world? Alexander's sudden interjection that Sebastian was 'useless' prompted a soft snort of agreement from Matteo himself as the trio finally reached the front door.

Matteo's hand lifted to rap agianst the polished wood. The near ancient Fae pausing for the briefest of moments. How on earth was Dorian going to handle their sudden 'appearance' in his life. Worse, how would he handle that knowledge they intended to leave again? Matteo's head shook ever so slightly before his knuckles at last rapped agianst the wood. For several moments the trio were greeted with nothing more then silence before, finally, the sound of someone approaching echoed from behind the door- that large mahogany structure so at last pulled softly open to reveal a petie, pretty young blonde fae woman with striking blue eyes. Whatever words Matteo had intended to offer her however were abruptly cut short by the piercing scream that seemed to emit from her- the woman so abruptly collapsing onto a heap upon the floor! Hmmm. This was not going terribly well. Matteo's voice interjected into that silence once more, the Frenchman's near teasing words holding the added pleasure of a veritable barb agianst Sebastian- one the Englishman was quick to retaliate agianst with his own words. This Sebastian was so hardly as....mild as the one Matteo had grown accustomed too. The Vampires' boldness in his willingness to spar with him prompted Matteo's silver irises to find the Incubus once more.

"I prefer the Other you. This version of you is....irritating."

The Real Sebastian was...far easier to tease. Matteo hardly inclined to consider his irritation with this Sebastian was so hardly linked to the vampire's ability to verbally spar with him and far more towards how far he had managed to take things within his living room. That, it seemed, would forever remain a veritable sore point. That this Sebastian would hardly understand what he was talking about hardly mattered. Alexander's insistence that Matteo hardly looked any different either earned his Father a notable scowl of disapproval before the sound of someone else within that opulent home drew the gazes of the trio inward once more. Matteo moved to step over that fallen woman as Alexander and Sebastian followed, the door closed within their wake before that gasp echoed down the hall. Dorian. How very like his son this Dorian looked! Albeit dressed in far more modern clothing then Matteo had ever seen him wear. For several long moments the Fae King seemed to struggle to believe what his own silver eyes so surely assured him were real before he nearly sprinted down the hall to launch himself into Matteo's arms and afford him a hug near fierce. This was the very thing Matteo had feared! This, after all, was not his son. Not really. He was not the Matteo this Dorian so desperately sought and yet those Fatherly instincts remained all the same. The mere sight of his son's tears prompted Matteo to draw him closer and return that hug before those soft, gentle words of comfort left his lips. His true son or not- Matteo could so hardly stand to see him cry.

It was only the soft sound of Alexander clearing his throat that seemed to prompt Dorian to glance eupward, the Monarch proceeding to throw himself at his grandfather with the same enthusiasm. Alexander swept up into an equally fierce hug. Just how much Dorian had missed them was near painfully clear. The Monarch insisted he had searched for years for them both. That sudden mention of 'Clarissa' however managed to prompt Matteo's own curiosity once more, his son affording him a near baffled look as he detangled himself from Alexander only to crouch down to gently shake the woman at Sebastian's feet. Clarissa so apparently the collapsed Fae- and Dorian's wife. The surprise upon Matteo's features was readily echoed by that look on Alexander's own. The Hunter, in the least, managed to conceal that look of astonishment far quicker as Dorian's own gaze shifted between the pair with clear confusion in turn- only to query whether or not Matteo had hit his head. Alexander's insistence that he had struck it far more times then Dorian would ever know earned the hunter a near indignant look from Matteo. The Fae King merely chuckling in amusement at that very jest before insisting he would summon a doctor all the same. Anything else Dorian had been about to offer however was cut short by the Monarch's sudden discovery of Sebastian.

Dorian's silver gaze was quick to find the bright, ardent blue of the vampire's own. The Monarch so merely seeming to...stare for a moment. The fashion in which Dorian so appreciatively seemed to eye Sebastian in his entirety was hardly missed before he stepped forward to boldly offer the Incubus his hand- along with that introduction. Sebastian's hand was warm within his own. The vampire so clearly having fed recently. His features flushed with the sort of life that came from blood alone. How very...striking a man this Sebastian was. Sebastian was quick to insist that apology was hardly needed, Dorian so making no move to release the other man's hand as a warm simper fluttered to his own lips at the sound of Sebastian's distinct accent.

"Oh! You are an Englishman! I utterly adore England. I have been several times for Her Majesty's Annual Garden Party. Do you travel to England terribly often yourself? I should find it wonderfully helpful if you might suggest-"

The clearing of Matteo's throat seemed to break that spell. Both men abruptly releasing the other hand as a soft flush of red seemed to touch Dorian's own features in the realization that he had, perhaps, become but a touch exuberant in his desire to speak with the Englishman. Dorian was quick to summon several members of his staff before leading the way further into his home, his query of just where Alexander and Matteo had been prompted that soft insistence from the Hunter that such a thing might best be discussed with him alone. Matteo's wn eyes rose once more as he fell into step with the pair, leaving Sebastian to follow behind while a manservant carried Clarissa.

"What exactly do you plan to tell him, Alexander? That we are imposters?"

Those very words were uttered to the Macedonian alone as the group rached that living room. Clarissa was hurriedly laid upon the nearest couch, Dorian himself taking the nearest armchair before gesturing for Matteo, Alexander and Sebastian to make themselves comfortable. Dorian's voice echoed within that space once more. Brandon, would you take Her Majesty to her room? Please have Geoffery attend to her and let me know how she is. I have a great deal to discuss with my Father and Grandfather and this has already been a big evening for Clarissa. She hardly needs to stress herself further. Brandon was quick to agree before summoning several more servants to assist in carrying Clarissa out of that room. Matteo, for several moments, merely watched the woman go before turning back to Dorian himself.

"She has her own room? You don't share a room?"

This was so hardly a pivotal question, Matteo supposed and yet the Frenchman found himself near...baffled with the life this Dorian seemed to lead. How very alike his Dorian he looked and yet how striking those differences were becoming. Dorian's own head tilted in a look near confused once more before his head softly shook. "She shares my room when either of us desire it but she finds displeasure in my having the company of any others and prefers to keep her own space."

"You have Mistresses?"

This was by far the most...shocking news Matteo was near assured he had heard all evening. The very notion of the idea prompting his gaze to rise upward as Dorian's own shoulders merely rose in a shrug. "Father, I am King. I have several favoured women and the occasional man" Dorian's gaze had shifted decidedly towards Sebastian once more. Matteo distinctly aware of that contemplation that seemed to linger within his gaze. This Dorian, it seemed was far more....liberal then the son he had raised within his own world. Indeed, the Frenchman found himself very near...impressed. If this Dorian was so vastly different then how different, he wondered, might Aiden be.

"Where is your Brother?"
Oh! I must phone him at once! He was in Barbados with the PeaceCorp last I spoke to him, assisting with the reconstruction of the local village after the earthquake. He will be thrilled at your return.
"Aiden is in the PeaceCorp!?"
"Who is Aiden?"
"Your...brother?"
Father, my brother's name is Cesare."

Matteo's silver gaze so momentarily blinked in confusion once more, the Frenchman glanced near helplessly towards Alexander again before his gaze shifted towards several family photographs resting upon the mantelpiece above the fire. It hardly took more than a few strides for Matteo to reach the mantel, his hand moving to grasp that nearest picture that showed Dorian with his arm around another young man with those same piercing, silver eyes and light...reddish brown hair. How alike Isabella he looked! Yet...taller. Taller then Dorian too.Like himself. He had never known....none of them had. Not in all those years- whether or not Cesare had been his own or Ferdinand's. The child had been born human. The one in this picture was clearly Fae. Had he been born as such in this world or had Matteo merely turned him? A near pang of something...painful so seemed to settle within Matteo's chest as he turned that picture toward Alexander. Those words that left him once more uttered in Alexander's near ancient language.

"Ítan kai dikós mou ston kósmo mas? Í ypárchei móno étsi?" (Was he mine in our world too? Or does it only exist that way here? )

Alexander, he suspected, would hardly know the answer to that question. Perhaps such a query might never hold a true answer and yet Matteo could hardly prevent those words all the same. That ache within his chest had become near vice-like as he so attempted to push those thoughts away and return that picture frame to the mantle. His gaze lingering on Cesare all the same. Cesare had died.....centuries ago. Merely days after Isabella herself. He had been far, far too young to turn...or to save. No one had ever known whose son he was and yet....Matteo had grieved his loss all the same somewhere within the utter blackness that had been Isabella's death. The sheer profoundness of the loss of his infant son only now seeming to stab at him. Dad? Are you alright? Dorian's voice so quickly seemed to bring Matteo away from whatever place his thoughts had lingered, the Frenchman quick to find a seat on the sofa beside Alexander.

"I am fine, do you have anything to drink? It's been a very long day."

How quickly that want for alcohol seemed to claw at him. Matteo was desperate to chase away any of those...emotions that threatened to tug at him here and now. He could feel that vision rising with suddenness and the same demand to be seen that so often came with the foresight connected to those he cared for most, Matteo so hardly made any effort to prevent it is that red hue abruptly filled his gaze. The Frenchman entirely capable of watching Dorian summon that drink while too allowing that vision to play put behind his eyes. Aiden. Aiden and....a forest. Those images of Risque and Darcy danced with equal ferocity within his mind's eye. That future seemed to duck and weave and dance all at once with uncertainty nd yet several of those outcomes were not.....at all ideal. If the Aiden of this world was not....his son. Then that vision was connected so entirely to his own world. How readily a sense of unease seemed to rise within him.

"Alex, I can see....the place we came from still. We need to....find a way back sooner rather than later."

Alexander, he knew, would understand those words. Dorian and Sebastian so merely left to look on in confusion as Dorian's gaze shifted from his Father to his Grandfather and back again. The drink Matteo had requested was hurriedly brought in by a servant before Dorian abruptly dismissed him and so demanded the doors to that living room be closed. His silver gaze, at last, settling upon his Grandfather. What on earth is going on? I really think Father needs to see a doctor.

c'est dur d'être un dieu.