i used to rule the world

seas would rise when i gave the word

It had been centuries since the Macedonian King had taken part in any festivity that did not include Matteo and his own house staff. Alexander's own children had long since died, the Dark Hunter almost tired of the grief of their passing, causing the man to simply have little interest in taking another woman for himself in quite some time. With Dorian's own capture for the last six hundred years, there had simply been no reason for a family gathering. This was the first time in an eternity that the pair celebrated a holiday with the Frenchman's own children. Matteo's own enthusiasm was near palpable, the fae only offering him a short hello before disappearing back into the kitchen. He could hear the flurry of activity within the room and yet, Alexander made no effort to intervene, much less to assist. Rather, he had been more than content to simply settle in the living room, perfectly positioning himself to see into the dining room and glimpse further into the kitchen itself. The drink he was offered was gratefully accepted, the Dark Hunter pleasantly surprised by the plethora of liquor that filled the cabinet. It was certainly not cheap liquor, the names of the bottles and years well known to the King. Someone clearly had an inclination for a fine, stiff drink, it seemed. It was but several moments later that Alexander was handed his choice of brandy in a glass tumbler with Dorian's newly created crest engraved in the side.

A soft breath left his lips as Alexander gingerly swirled the brandy in his glass. He lamented the lack of his own Macedonian liquor, particularly on such a day as this. Still, he supposed he had little reason to complain when the drink was well enough. The King's blue-green eyes settled upon the figure of Charles as the manservant emerged from the kitchen with a tray of teacups in his hand. His eyebrow rose and yet Alexander said little as the Were-creature moved up the stairs and towards the bedrooms above him. it hardly took terribly long, however, before Charles returned with his hands empty, a fact which Alexander took to mean his Godson was finally beginning to wake. He continued to watch the procession from the kitchen, all the while content to sip up the liquor that warmed his throat. His piercing gaze eyed the basketed bread rolls and the large glass bowl of salad. He watched as Matteo himself emerge from the depths of the warm room with several plates and bowls in hand. His eyebrow rose and yet he said little as he watched Matteo fill the center of the table with those completed dishes, clearly far too distracted in his own thoughts. He knew that look upon the Frenchman's features all too well by now. the very weight of Alexander's gaze, however, seemed enough to prompt Matteo's own enigmatic silver eyes to rise upwards.

For a brief moment, his eyes met his oldest companion's. The sardonic tone within the Frenchman's voice hardly perturbed him in the slightest. Alexander's shoulders rose ever so slightly in a small shrug. "I can see that." He responded in an almost deadpan fashion, perfectly content to remain nestled within the armchair rather than venture into the kitchen - a place Alexander was certainly not a home within. He watched as Matteo turned to head back into the kitchen, only to pause and turn ever so slightly. That threat to not so much as even touch the table, however, caused the age-old hunter's head to tilt to the side ever so slightly and yet, he rewarded his companion with but a soft snort. The sound alone showed neither acceptance nor an outright refute. Quite on the contrary, he waited until Matteo once again disappeared into the kitchen, only for his blue-green eyes to turn back towards the mahogany table and the golden dishware stacked upon the top of it. For a moment, his gaze turned back towards the kitchen in consideration before Alexander placed that glass of Brandy on the coffee table. He rose, approaching the dining room table only to reach out and move the plate closest to him exactly one inch upwards.

It was hardly enough to interfere with dinner and yet, considering the conversation of butter coming from the kitchen, perhaps Matteo could use just a touch of goading. Alexander easily returned to his own seat, settling back within the warm chair with liquor in hand as if he had hardly moved at all. The sudden presence of Matteo at his side hardly perturbed him, that millennium spent with the man had all but obliterated any sense of surprise within the Conqueror. It was the sudden thrust of those spoons, however, that prompted a sigh upon his lips as he placed his glass down again, reaching for each in turn. The first was slipped easily between his lips, the Dark Hunter savoring that flavor, comparing it almost effortlessly to the millions of tastes of gravy he'd had before. His attention deviated only at that idle reminder to be nice tonight. "To whom?" The Dark Hunter retorted and yet, the subtle hint of a simper existed on the far corners of his lips. Alexander knew, naturally, the importance of tonight to Matteo. Although the Macedonian man himself was rather fond of his Godson, his own prejudice against the vampiric man at Dorian's side often left him regarding the couple together with a cool indifference. Aiden, on the other hand, though he knew much of the boy and had too heard much, remained a mystery by and large.

A small grunt of protest left his lips as Matteo stole his drink, only for Alexander to slip that second spoon within his mouth - regarding this flavor too. "Hmm..." He commented, resting his head upon his hand. "Less sage, more thyme." The Macedonian King concluded after a moment longer, only for his vibrant gaze to turn towards his companion at Matteo's softened tone. "1904." Alexander answered factually, recalling that year with such ease. It had been just over one hundred years since they had truly bothered to celebrate the holiday when they had both momentarily be preoccupied with a set of sisters, casual though their interest had been. It had been an enjoyable difference to the monotony of their life then and yet that year had been so strikingly different to now. Now they were together as a family of their own.