how fate does so love the restless
He should surely have been used to such things by now. To seeing Aiden all but broken and clinging desperately to whatever fragments of feeble hope existed and yet- each and every time Matteo so found his heart all but aching for the son he loved so dearly and yet was so often forced to merely....watchover from affair. His role so often merely that of picking up those pieces once more in his own surely feeble attempt to hold the boy together. Perhaps, in some ways, he had done more for Aiden over those years- even if only to attempt to provide the younger man with some moral compass, some semblance of compassion. To assure him that despite that inevitable blackened oblivion in which his life persisted there was still some....light to be found. Yet how terribly had it was, sometimes, to be that very source of hope over and over again when his own heart ached so terribly. When he desired nothing more then to take Aiden away from anything and everything that brought him even a hint of displeasure. Yet- how terribly that would disrupt the plans of fate. Those inner workings of destiny were nothing if not steadfast. He had been gifted the ability to glimpse at those plans perhaps and yet to change them was not...his place. Even if he desired it.
Aiden, despite his distinct effort in keeping those shields in place, allowed that emotion to find his voice in those moments in which he broke that silence. The WereKing silently questioning how long he would have before that woman summoned him back to Syn. Ah, but how it tore at his heart to see Aiden worry for those he would leave behind were such a fate to come to pass! Matteo, this time, so at least able to attempt to provide some modicum of assurance as his head softly shook. The Frenchman's hand extended gently, his fingers resting lightly on Aiden's arm to draw the boys gaze away from that dancing fire and back to himself. Matteo waited until those near entrancing emerald eyes found the silver of his own before he offered that insistence that, this time, Risque would not summon him back to the Ark. This time- such a thing had so hardly been her intent. Yet to guess the intent of Risque was near akin to attempting to hold sand in one's fingers without it sifting through. The confusion upon Aiden's own features was momentarily clear, the younger man attempting to grasp as some sense behind that loss as his words rose and fell short before his own head shook. Ah, but how Matteo had contemplated that very question himself. The Frenchman's accented lyrics fell from his lips once more, his tone quiet in the warmth of that room.
"I think there are two reasons, Mon Fils. To take your home from you punishes you, it makes you hurt, it unbalances you and above all- it makes you anxious, Aidun. Given a chance, anxiety will do her job for her without her ever needing to be near you, non?"
Matteo paused for a moment to allow those very words to rest within his younger son's mind. Risque, with near no effort at all, had attempted to trigger that anxiety within Aiden's thoughts. To prompt the WereKing to fret and worry night after night, to allow restlessness and unease to claw at him more than her silver nails ever could. It was an...old ploy and yet Matteo could hardly deny its effectiveness. After all, had it not already started to work? Had Aiden's mind not surely already started to turn agianst him? That secondary reasoning however was far more....complex and one even Matteo himself remained decidedly...wary off. Aiden's very query of just how long he would be safe within that home so falling beneath that secondary reason in some fashion.
"I am also not certain and indeed Aidun, I can afford you no promise when the future remains ever changing but.....Risque may not ever call you back to live at Syn permanently as she once did when you were young. Darcy had altered her nature a little."
The Frenchman frowned but slightly at his own words then. That very contemplation was one he had considered multiple times. The bafflement he was assured existed upon Aiden's features met with that soft explanation.
"Darcy no longer exists as merely another vampire in her collection. She has done what she has never done before in six hundred years by taking him as her significant other. I do not believe even she truly understands the...bonds, if you will, that exist between them now, but your presence infuriates Darcy extensively. He tolerates your existence because she demands it but I suspect he will not tolerate your living permanently at Syn again and I do not believe Risque will...choose you over her lover."
Risque would be commanded by nothing and no one, how well Matteo knew that truth and yet there was far more at play then merely the vampiric Queen's whims. Even she was not immune to the veritable....snares of a relationship. Darcy meant something to her, even if she refused to acknowledge it, even if she denied it with every fibre of her blackened soul. Yet how very ironic it was that Darcy another being within Aiden's life who had brought him nothing but torment might so unintentionally have provided him some extra...length to Risques leash. Matteo fell silent then, those contemplations returned to his mind alone before that drink within his hand was offered quietly to Aiden. The WereKing smoothly took the glass from him, finishing that liquor as Matteo toyed idly with the colours of the fire, before he reached to take that glass back. His very suggestion that he might linger within Dorian's home a while longer was met with Aiden's own insistence that it might be...nice. Hmmm. How typically Aiden. Matteo could hardly prevent that soft simper that found his lips in response before he lent further back in that chair. The Frenchman content to gently offer that insistence that despite it all- how very upset Aiden felt was nothing short of clear to him. It always had been. How little Aiden could hide from him and yet, in turn, how easily aiden often saw through him as well.
The pair returned to that contended silence then. Matteo, tonight, seeing no further need to push the younger man. How readily that exhaustion played upon the WereKings features and yet....there was still a little time to be shared before Aiden inevitably fell asleep where he sat. Matteo's finger neatly tapped the rim of that glass. The tumbler instantly filled with whiskey once more. Ah, but only if alcohol made itself more difficult to access perhaps he would not be so often inclined to indulge within it. The near ancient Fae took another sip of that drink before passing it back to Aiden. The Frenchman was more than willing to share that drink between them before one leg folded over the other in a clear relaxation. Matteo, for now, content to draw their thoughts away from veritable darkness and towards but one of those metaphorical beacons of light.
"So, Mon Fils, tell me of her then."
That near puzzled look he was afforded in response so readily prompted a near dubious glance of his own before his silver gaze rolled gently in a faked exasperation. A chuckle rose from within his throat, Matteo gently reaching to afford Aiden a soft, playful shove.
"Your girl, Aidun. Tell me about Mira. Ah, do not look at me like that, Scoundrel. Either you tell me of her or I shall throw you a party for your having slept with her. Do not think I won't do it, oui. Then you shall have to deal with your brother asking you endless questions which will annoy you sufficiently. Come now, indulge me."