Maurson's brow clenched as another gutwrenching cry rose from the bedchambers, and the grip on his armchair was damn near painful. It had lasted too long, far too long for it to be considered a safe birth, and as he lifted his hand for but a moment to wipe the fiery strands sticking to his cheek away from his, Pauris sipped idly at the tea given to him by his fretting partner.
"You know, you're a bloody fool," Pauris quipped, and Maurson glared at him with a bestial snarl, the other warlock merely responding to the display with a sinister chuckle. "Don't you even start with that growling. I don't even know why you hadn't killed the woman yet. She slept with an incubus, did she not?" The ebon haired male asked, the well-maintained goatee pulling as he gave his friend the most wicked of grins. "Yet, I always told you your wife was a whore, did I not?"
Maurson scowled darkly, and as another belting wail roared from the bedchambers again, followed by the crooning of the handmaidens, he could only feel the sickening satisfaction of the fact the woman was in pain. It served her right, really, Pauris was completely correct after all. However, the other male must have watched Maurson gaze back to the door, for he came over and patted the male's cheek. "Relax, your cunt will be alright, and even if she isn't… one less obstacle for me to deal with, mm?"
"Would you stuff it, man?" Maurson finally snapped, running spindly fingertips through his own hair, though before he could continue his ranting, Pauris' lips were locked with his, the grip on his neck cruel. He remained there for a moment, relishing in the sickening pleasure such a union brought him, before he shoved the ebon-haired male away with a scowl. Pauris only laughed, though it was cut short by the mewling cries of a child and the whimpering of a whore that had just given birth. The man seemed disgruntled at the sound of the woman remaining alive, yet he followed Maurson as the man threw open the door and stepped into the bedchamber with a wrinkled sneer upon his face.
The women who had been tending to the woman jumped as the door wrenched itself open, their eyes snapping to their master before dipping their heads down. Those who weren't directly involved with making the woman presentable dove to the corner of the room, quickly taking to their knees in a panicked curtsy. Pauris seemed amused, quirking a brow as he admired a particularly young looking one, running his fingertips along her shoulder before tilting her head up so that he could better examine her. Growing bored as quickly as his interest sparked, he pushed her head away from him, and turned his attention back to Maurson. He stood waiting, irritation and ire growing as he watched the last of the handmaidens.
"Master Maurson, t'is a boy," one of the handmaidens whimpered, quickly stuffing the bloodied rags into a wooden bed-basin, before taking her place alongside the others, who were already bowed and shivering in the corner. They looked terrified, either by what they had just seen come out of the woman, or by the distaste expressed by their master. Either way, it satisfied Maurson well enough to twinge the lightest of smirks amidst the derision. He stared down at his "wife", who looked every bit as gaunt and sickly as she had when she came with child to the demon, and he'd smile at her.
"Well, you delivered your bastard, did you not?" He growled, holding out his clawed hands to view the proclaimed boy. However, his nostrils flared. Fel-energy dripped amidst the room, it hung in the air like a dense and dismal fog, and it excited him. Just what had come from his whore?
She glared at him for a moment, her cheeks flushed with irritation at her husband's words, yet she clung to the child still. Whether it was the fel-made possessiveness or otherwise, she'd cling to the child and press it against her breast, where it suckled needily. "You'll kill him," she mumbled, baring her teeth in the haze of the incubus' spell, though Maurson would have none of it. He descended upon the woman, pulling the child from her arms as she shrieked, before gazing at the infant. As the bloodied rags that wrapped around him fell away, Maurson's eyes widened and he faltered.
"Gods above…"
The creature in his arms… was beautiful. Uncannily so, even for the standards of a pure human infant. Bright green eyes stared up, doe-like and wide as if taking in his every feature, and a whisping, black tail wrapped and coiled around his wrists as he crooned and pet at Maurson's hands. Initially, the grip meant to be malicious and dangerous for the boy lapsed into a gentle, cradling purr, and he pulled the boy close to his chest, letting those fingertips run along the faintest of ridges that would later be horns. The goat-like legs of the boy would curl up against him, pressing chubbed knees up to his father's chest as infantile hands would reach up to caress Maurson's cheeks. Pauris would quirk his brow, watching the two as he made his way to the child, frowning gently.
"Hmph, at least it will be useful," he purred idly, licking his lips for a moment before he looked down to the woman, who writhed and screamed against the handmaidens and nurses that fought to hold her down. Her own hands outstretched for her child, pleading in Eredun for the boy to be back in her arms… yet Maurson would have none of it. Smiling idly to the boy as their eyes remained locked, he caressed the infant's cheek with a gentle knuckle.
"My boy…"