Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/?, Abaddon/?
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery, Lemon, Character Death
Chapter: 14
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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The now public relationship of War with an angel was confusing, to say the least. Most Nephilim wondered what pleasure an angel could give a creation of Lilith, particularly if it was a scholar, who no doubt could handle precious little. Questions that had not been asked about Lust and Cahethal – mostly because he was assumed to be merely a short fling, if even that – were now asked about War and Azrael.
The White City too was in something of an uproar. While the Codex Bellum never outright forbade relationships with non-angels – a precaution the angelic Firstborn took when seeing Metatron's appetites – it was generally agreed that demons were far from appropriate. That Nephilim were only half-demon mattered little to most of the city.
Abaddon meanwhile was mostly annoyed, arguing in sharp angelic with the other dignitary of the White City. "So all your visits to the White City or the Well were simply covers to see him? You do realize I was joking, right?"
"Certainly not all my visits, Abaddon." Heaven's first Mystic chuckled lightly. "Besides, my family is mostly rejoicing that I am finally no longer single."
"You are the only child Laylah ever produced, by my knowledge. It is a giving they overlook your flaws." The General countered sharply. "You cannot seriously be considering this Nephilim husband-material!?"
"Abaddon, mind your tone." Ever so slowly, annoyance formed on the blue-clad angel's face. "I am being courted and marriage is still well-off… and even if it were not, I do not answer to you, warrior. You answer to me and will continue to do so until either of us perishes."
Glorious white wings shifted, the air trembling between two men who would not back down easily. In the end, angelic obedience to authority won out, Abaddon sketching a bow and backing away. But his eyes burned and Azrael was well aware that the last word had not yet been spoken about the matter.
Both felt the new arrival at the same time; something pure and unmarred had arrived in the Nephilim-encampment. The feeling of an Angelic Firstborn alone was enough to calm them. Abaddon led the way, looking up into the sky where four wings were carrying a woman down to solid ground.
Even the nearby Nephilim could tell that whoever this was, she was no ordinary angel, if only by how all angels seemed to reverently shrink in on themselves, wings demurely closing behind them. Only two angels did no such thing, Cahethal approaching the female in the air as she touched down in front of Azrael. Lust trailed along under her angel, eyes narrowed in distrust just a touch. In her experience, if someone was too much of something, it always boded ill. Absalom had been too perfect a Nephilim and had perished under the blade of one he had deemed inconsequential…
War tripped and nearly faceplanted at the greeting Azreal offered her. "Welcome, mother! What brings you here?"
"A great many things, my son." Laylah set down on solid ground, her wings curling behind her. "But business first, I suppose." Her shining white eyes settled on War, who was pretty certain he'd have preferred some warning before meeting his near-mother-in-law. Beside him, Death gave no indication he cared about the implications of the female angel before them. "Apologies, but I assume you are War? You're the only angelic-looking Nephilim I am seeing here."
"Mother." Azrael's eyes narrowed.
"It's the only description I ever got about him." She shrugged her son's disapproval off, marching over to the Nephilim in question, smiling lightly at the sight of Cahethal having touched down beside Lust. "And I assume you must be Death, then?"
"I am." Orange eyes glowed. "And from his greeting, I assume you are Azreal's mother?"
"In the flesh; I am Laylah, Archangel of the night and conception, First of the female angelic Firstborn… and a couple other titles I can do without." Her smile turned serene as she ignored the snort of amusement of the green-clad angelic male nearby. "I come for business and for pleasure, Nephilim."
"My tent, then..." War caught himself, gesturing into the camp. Business he could do, but he was not looking forward to whatever she meant with pleasure. He knew enough of thing that mothers-in-law were
not merciful to those their children had chosen. Briefly glancing over his shoulder, he noted with some surprise that Lust and her angel seemed to be following them.
"I admit myself concerned about what business could warrant sending out an Angelic Firstborn as messenger." Abaddon spoke up once they were securely in War's tent. "Even with… pleasure as an added activity."
Laylah settled down on her offered spot, legs curling under her. "Iaoel's Sight, grand-nephew. You might recall we do not lightly spread her words."
"What did my mother See?" Cahethal had lingered near the tent's entrance, but now he approached.
"War. Fire and blood." She leaned towards the Nephilim. "This tent-city in flames. She has narrowed it down to some time next mid-Autumn, but there will be an attack of some sort."
"A mere season away." War breathed. "This 'Sight'…?"
"Second Sight. The ability to see past, present and future, to receive visions there-off and with enough training, to guide those." Azrael informed him. "How certain is she, mother?"
"Considering the reports about troop-movements in Hell, I think we can take it as a certainty, my son."
"If this is the case, perhaps we should finalize the portal-gate between the White City and here." Abaddon suggested. "Outright stationing angels here might be problematic, but an established portal-gate would work just as well. Certainly better than having to manually craft one like we have been doing."