One possible reaction of Iblis when he finds out about Alexandra. Moving about tomorrow, so early update is early. God I am so tired. *yawns*
Writing Iblis's part of the dialogue is easier when you take a Malibu shot before typing.
Concerning reviews: *bows* Thank youuuu!
To Justreading: You have a fanfic?! About Iblis and Jenny?! PUBLISH it please please I don't care if it's weird or whatever PLEASE okay the fandom NEEDS YOU. Seriously now, don't worry about being "weird" or "stupid" with ships or whatever, look at what weird shit the larger fandoms have. Coffee shop AU? Harry Potter is a vampire and loves Voldemort AU? Lesbian Victorian Steampunk Mermaid AU? It's all been done...and I think every fandom can use some. This one too! (frankly I'm peeved that the only pairing people write about in this fandom seems to be Dylippa. I fucking hate Dybbuk...)
It is a seemingly normal evening for Nimrod when, out of the blue, two Ifrit materialize in his library.
Now, Nimrod isn't the shoot-first-ask-questions-later type, but as soon as the two clouds of black smoke take human shape, he takes action.
"QWERTYUI-"
"Parlay!" one of the Ifrit shouts.
Quite similar to pirates, djinn have the right to parlay. It's written down in the Bagdad rules. But there is also a right to decline parlay, and Nimrod is inclined to use it as he looks these two fellows over.
They are eeeeevil djinn. They are also of the opinion that evilness is best displayed by wearing greasy leather jackets, slicked back dark hair and sunglasses at night. Nimrod is vaguely reminded of Iblis in his Eighties phase, except that Iblis somehow managed back then to make leather jackets look classy. These two of his underlings have not quite gotten the hang of it. Nimrod, not being intimidated by them, sees no use in fighting just now.
"What do you want to parlay about?" he asks. "And how did you even get in here?"
"We have our ways" one says.
"Our leader wants to speak to you" the other adds.
"Iblis? Then why didn't he just phone me? He's got my number, somehow."
"Our leader wishes to speak to you in person" a third voice suddenly says in his back.
There's a third one? Nimrod spins around, but not fast enough. The last thing he sees is a piece of wood making contact with his forehead. Then everything goes black.
When he wakes up again, he is apparently being driven around in a car – apparently because he's also blindfolded and has to go by the sound of the engine. He is neither tied nor gagged, but someone has put him under a Sesquipedalian binding, because, as he soon finds out, he is unable to utter his focus word. So he just settles for being sensibly quiet.
At some point they leave the car and enter a building. The Ifrit thugs lead Nimrod up some stairs, and through some hallways, until at last they end up in a room that contains Iblis – Nimrod knows that with empathic certainty as soon as he steps through the door. He doesn't even know how he knows it – smell, perhaps. Nimrod has a very fine sense of smell.
The blindfold is yanked off, and he finds himself in a tastefully furnished study, the walls lined with bookshelves. He can't see much of the room, though; it's dark. A single lamp illuminates a desk littered with papers of all kind. Nimrod can make out something that looks like a census study, some official-looking forms concerning the profit made in several casinos, letters and a pencil sketch of a city skyline. Behind the desk, indeed, is Iblis, toying with a letter opener. At least Nimrod hopes it's a letter opener; it looks more like a small, mean dagger really.
He stands there and just waits as Iblis dismisses his minions. When they are alone, Iblis says: "Marid. Please excuse this whole abduction, rather tedious I know. But I needed a word with you in private."
"Is this a kind of parlay?" Nimrod asks.
"Kind of."
"Is this drawing yours?"
Iblis shuffles some papers on his desk, making the drawing disappear. Now Nimrod also notes the framed picture of the Teer family next to the lamp. How cute.
"As you probably are aware of, I have some prominent Marid under surveillance, you of course being one of them" Iblis explains, pointedly not answering the question. "To make this short, I did some snooping around, and I happened upon something most peculiar." He takes a folder from the desk and opens it.
Nimrod's fist panicked reaction is Oh no, oh no, what does he know, what did he find out? His second thought is Why, that's silly. I've got nothing to hide from him.
He is completely thrown off ground when Iblis remarks, in a voice carefully kept neutral of all emotions: "I never knew you had a wife."
"What? Alexandra? You had me dragged here to talk about Alexandra?"
"Why don't you explain yourself first, Marid, and doubt my decision later."
"Explain...what? How many times have you been married?"
Iblis raises an eyebrow. "Let's just say several. What I want you to explain is...how come I hear of her only now? I mean, the woman is a powerful djinn and your wife. Why has she never come up?"
"Well, I couldn't exactly bring her up while fighting..."
"No, but maybe you should have brought her up at a suitable occasion...like one of the not very cleverly veiled advances you made on my person over the years. Don't even try to deny that now, we both know. A pity, Marid. I pegged you as one of the last truly good individuals in a cruel, heartless world. If I was to find out that you were, in reality, just a cheating little piece of filth, I would be genuinely disappointed."
Wait...what? Nimrod is shocked. Did Iblis Teer, most renowned evil djinn in the world, just accuse me of cheating on my wife with him? With a tone of honest sadness in his voice?
"No...it's not...not like that at all" he tries to defend himself. "We...Alexandra and I...we broke up, see, we're technically only married on the paper."
"Oh I know that. Let's talk about it, shall we? How you broke up."
"What?"
Iblis laughs, a small, hard, mirthless laugh. "Marid, Marid. Seriously? I'm not the jealous type. If anything were to ever...happen...between the two of us, I would definitely cheat on you. I'd cheat on you so much. I'm not a nice man to be in a relationship with. I nag, I have mood swings, I come home late, I participate in questionable activities, I always hog the blankets, I drink – like, a lot – and you'd have to put up with my large, dysfunctional family. You cheating on your estranged wife now and again is pretty forgivable compared to that. I'm not mad because you never told me that there's someone else. I'm mad because when she became too hard to handle, you dumped her in Afghanistan and then tried your best to absolutely forget her. While, and I feel I need to stress that, she was struggling with mental illness. Like, don't do that? It really is surprising what you good guys can get away with."
Nimrod doesn't reply to that, on account of being speechless. He has to admit that this sounds a lot more unpleasant out of Iblis' mouth than he had ever considered it to be.
And then the evil djinn adds in a very quiet voice: "And now I naturally ask myself: If we were...you know...if we ever...started something or whatever...would this happen to me? When you'd finally say goodbye to your fucking delusions and see me as the messed up psycho I am, would you dump me like you dumped her? Where would I go, North Korea? Or no wait, Iraq. Apparently war zones are always best for dumping unstable loved ones."
"No..." Nimrod stutters weakly. "It's not...not like that at all...and besides, you are not..."
"I am not...what? Not messed up? Not as unimportant as the woman who loved you? Not the evil fuck-up who has done nothing but disappoint you and screw with your life since day one, but instead a precious person in some way? Wake the fuck up."
"Now, you got this all wrong. She left me because she needed to join the eremites for some reason!"
"She was mentally unstable, Nimrod. You should have gotten her professional help instead of wallowing in your hurt male pride and taking everything she said at face value. God, I can't believe I actually have to teach you how to be good. I'm literally the worst person for it."
Iblis paces angrily while Nimrod watches. He's still dumbstruck. Then Iblis turns back to him and asks with forced calm: "Now where exactly does that woman live?"
A few days later, Iblis is in Afghanistan. Finding the Penthouse in which Alexandra Godwin lives has been incredibly easy – everyone who is anyone knows her. Apparently she is famous for both her prophecies and her notorious temper...and, of course, her exquisite beauty.
The door is opened forcefully before he can even ring the doorbell. He is face to face with a stunningly gorgeous woman, maybe the most beautiful one he has ever seen...and Iblis has seen many beautiful women. Her skin is very dark, and luscious black waves of hair fall down on her back. Her face is that of a woman who knows that she's an absolute queen. She wears a golden silk sari and a lot of traditional Indian jewelry...a bit of a strange sight in Afghanistan. And her proportions are absolutely godly. Hell, there are goddesses out there who would murder to look like Alexandra. The look she gives Iblis somehow makes him wish he had done something with his hair before coming here. And all of this is the wife of Nimrod Godwin?
"I have foreseen your coming, Iblis Teer" she announces.
"Really? Hi" Iblis replies, giving her his most winning smile.
"Now what could an Ifrit want from me? Do you want your fortune told?"
"Maybe. First of all I want you to let me in..."
Alexandra huffs. "This is about him, right? Nimrod."
"Only partially, ma'am. I heard about Nimrod's wife from a neutral source and got curious. I have read up on you and your...predicament. Not the foresight one, the other. The one that Nimrod left you for."
"You mean my...temper."
"Yes. And, well, guess who else has two thumbs and is notorious for temper tantrums? Basically...I know what it's like to carry a lot of unsolicited rage around with you. I know how it gets hard to manage, and how everyone just seems out to piss you off, and then things, you know, fade into static and you slip up, sometimes, and then things get destroyed. Please let me talk to you."
Alexandra lets him in without a further word.
Two hours later they are sitting in her living room disregarding the coffee that has long gone cold in their cups and exchanging stories. Somehow they have, predictably, drifted from anger management to the only other thing that connects them: Nimrod.
"You know, when we were newlyweds, everything seemed perfect. He was perfect" Alexandra explains. "He was a gentleman. Not like most other men I was used to from home. My family is very traditional. If Nimrod hadn't whisked me away to London, my father would have probably arranged a marriage for me."
"So that is why..."
"No" Alexandra interrupts. "That is not the only reason I went with him. I loved him. He was kind, cultured, generous, open-minded, and he treated me like a princess. When I saw London, and the great house I was to live in, and all the finery...I was amazed. We had our disagreements, surely, but that's just what...married couples are like."
"But then you broke up."
"Yes...that's kind of a long story."
"I'm all ears."
"Alright. One thing we fundamentally disagreed on was the best way to maintain the homeostasis."
"The homeostasis is a fairytale. Kinda like 'the thing women want'."
"No, it's not!" Alexandra snaps, her eyes suddenly full of anger. "And could you please not interrupt me when I'm talking? You know I really hate that."
"Sure, ma'am" Iblis says diplomatically.
"Anyway" Alexandra says, taking a deep, calming breath. "Nimrod. And the homeostasis. I believed the best way was to help the mundanes in a quiet way, like the eremites do. But he believed, above all, in fighting...you. The Ifrit. The casinos..."
"Ah yes, the casinos" Iblis smirks. "He wasted a lot of his time trying to bring those down. As far as gambling is concerned, the mundanes want no help and won't listen to reason. That's why we're still so successful."
"Whatever you say. Well, as time passed, I noticed how his fight wasn't...all about the good in the world. It was also personal...it was somehow about Nimrod himself. It was an odd feeling, and I first passed it off as just me imagining things...but as I had begun to take notice, it got more and more obvious...he was fixated, I'd almost say obsessed, not with smiting evil, but with...you."
"What? Me?"
"You. Iblis Teer. You. He kept a picture of you in his wallet, for heaven's sake! Told me it was there to remind him why he fights. So that's the reason you fight? I wanted to ask him. An attractive blond male? What?"
Iblis chuckles quietly. "Attractive blond male...good one."
"I'm not kidding! I felt awful! And he always went after you, fought you or confronted you about something...and he talked about you! All the time! Until I felt like I was competing with you for my husband's attention!...Well, and then the tragedy with my brother happened and changed everything anyway."
"You know, that wasn't my intention, to have Nimrod fall for me. Not really."
"It doesn't matter. Anyway, I should have known what I was getting into, I guess. He was just in denial the whole time. You know the one thing that was not perfect, right from the start?"
"No...Oh, don't say it, let me guess; the suits?"
Alexandra giggles. "Not the suits. I mean, they're horrible, yes, but when you find a man that is so good, you can forgive his lack of fashion sense. I'm talking about the sex."
"The...sex."
"The sex. It was just...not good. Like he put up an effort for my sake, but he wasn't in it with his heart."
Iblis ponders on that. He has known Nimrod for a long time. To say that, in their oddest of relationships, there have been absolutely zero encounters that turned sexual would be a bit of a lie. On the rare occasion that something has happened, Iblis remembers the experience being...surprisingly satisfactory. And his standards are pretty high there.
Then Alexandra says: "I have to ask. If Nimrod ever...would you..."
"...kill him?"
"No. Not that."
"Ah. You mean..."
"Yes."
"Huh."
"Would you?"
"I don't think so."
"So you absolutely...I mean, if he went and straight out proposed...you would decline him?"
"Who knows what I would do?"
"But you just said...!"
"I said I don't think I would. That's not a definite no."
"You are..."
"A scumbag?"
"An honest man" Alexandra finishes.
Iblis laughs his cynical laugh again. "I'm not honest."
"But you don't lie."
Over their conversation, it has gotten dark. As none of them bothered to put on a light, they are now sitting in semi-darkness.
Iblis reaches over and lays his hand over hers. "Some women seem to want to believe that" he whispers in her ear. "That I won't lie to them...that I'm not all that bad..."
She spins her head around and bites forcefully into his lower lip, drawing blood. "Lie to me and die."
Iblis licks the blood from his lips before he kisses her.
One day later, Nimrod (safely back at home) picks up his cell phone and sees that Iblis has sent him a picture. He opens it and sees a sight that makes his jaw drop. The picture shows Iblis in bed, a horribly smug expression on his face. Alexandra is curled around him smiling, with her head on his chest. None of them is wearing any clothes. At least Alexandra has draped her leg over his crotch so that there's not too much indecency. Nimrod stares, not knowing if he should scream or faint or what. The picture is captioned: I'm banging your wife, Marid.
Nimrod, shaking his head about the madness of fate, texts back: Yes, Iblis...yes you are.
Iblis stays at Alexandra's for two more weeks. Their relationship consists of anger management, exchanging anecdotes about Nimrod and nice, casual sex. Until one night, Alexandra wakes him up with tears in her eyes.
"I just had a vision of your future" she whispers in a grave voice.
Iblis yawns. "Are you sure it wasn't just a bad dream?"
"Don't be stupid. I know dreams, and I know visions. There is a difference between the both."
"Okay, so...my future? Do I want to know?"
"Your future. And whether or not you want to know is not important; I can't tell you anyway."
"What? Why not?"
"Such is the nature of my curse. I thought you read about that too."
"I just know that you can tell people's fortunes, but they keep forgetting them. I have no idea how that actually works."
"Well, I see the future. Sometimes it's like looking through a keyhole: a few blurry images that make no sense. Sometimes it is crystal clear. But no matter how it is: I can't tell people. It's a bit like a Sesquipedalian binding, where one can't pronounce a certain word. I open my mouth, I try to describe to people what I see, but all that comes out is gibberish. Angry gibberish." She shakes her pretty head in despair.
"It's alright, you needn't tell me" Iblis tries to soothe. "Was it much that you saw?"
"Everything. In horrible clarity. I saw your death, Iblis."
"My death" he repeats. "Was it...?"
"You didn't look much older than now."
"Djinn age well" he tries to shrug the matter off with a smile. But Alexandra only shakes her head again and cries some more.
"Oh. Was it...untimely?"
"Yes."
"Cruel?"
"Very."
"Will it hurt?" They both know it's a childish question. Iblis is ashamed that it slipped past his lips. "Is it a good death?" he asks on. "You know, one to go down in djinn history?"
Alexandra hesitates, then she nods.
"Then all is well" Iblis remarks, but they both know it's not.
At last he asks: "Is it definite?"
Alexandra exhales shakily. "The future is never set in stone. Right now, though, I can only think of one thing we both can do."
Back in England, the recent events have taken their toll on Nimrod. He can't stop thinking about Alexandra and Iblis, undoubtedly the two most important people in his life outside of the family, now in connection. Whenever his thoughts stray to one of them, he feels a sting of guilt. What Iblis has said about his break-up with Alexandra hits a bit too close to home.
One night, he wakes up from a strange, confusing dream that involved her somehow, and can't help feeling sad. But the sadness makes way to another feeling: the feeling that there's someone else with him in the bedroom. And not just any someone else. He senses djinn powers, lots and lots of djinn powers.
But the shock and fear that should follow such a realization oddly don't happen. He lies calmly and listens as they approach the bed. Then the footsteps cease, indicating that whoever it is is standing right beside the bed now. And then Nimrod, with his impeccable nose, smells it.
It is the smell of Alexandra's sweet, sensual, flowery perfume, but not only that. There is also a man's cologne, sharp and fresh with an undercurrent of other, fainter smells: aftershave, cigarettes, hair product, and just a small hint of alcohol and snakes.
The bed creaks as one, no two additional weights settle down on it. In the darkness, Alexandra snuggles up against his back while Iblis turns his back and scoots close, an almost aggressive silent invitation to spoon him. Nimrod smiles and wraps an arm around the both of them. "You two came back...thank you" he whispers.
"Oh shut up, you dork" Iblis replies.
Nimrod smiles into the darkness, thinking again about the mad turns his life is taking.
When Nimrod, later, asks Iblis why they have returned, Iblis shrugs and says: "She saw something in the future, something about my death, and apparently she thinks that you can change something."
"Your death? But...when? How?"
"No idea. Liver failure, probably."
"Liver failure? Iblis...did you just admit to your drinking problem...? I've been waiting for that to happen since-"
"You heard nothing."