Hey hey people, Danzy here
thx for teh support. very cool
here's the next chap
Defying Fate
[Chapter 1]
||Pride||
A pair of long golden lashes fluttered as the enchanting emerald eyes of Artoria Pendragon woke up to the world of marbles before her. She'd have thought she was back to her throne room and had woken up from a terrible nightmare if not for the fact that she was submerged in pleasant hot water. It was a bathroom, she realized, and a very… furnished one, compared to the one in her castle.
Her ruined castle.
A light throb on her head caused her to wince, grunting softly as she clutched her forehead, feeling her wet golden locks against her fingers. As she felt her head, she realized her bun was undone.
Where was she? She wondered. She knew this was a bathroom, but where?
How did the room remain well-lit when there was no chandelier or candles? And how did the water stay warm when there was no heating beneath this… white tub-shaped container? It was a tub for sure, but she had never seen one that wasn't made out of waterproofed wood and had its own cushioning.
Let alone a bathroom with so much precious marble as the wall and ceiling, and cream-colored carpeting as its entire floor. And what were those small white tubes on the rack? She recognized the soap and towels, but the rest of the bottles containing various conditioner, shampoo, and body lotion eluded her mind.
Before enough curiosity replaced confusion, she heard the crisp click of a door.
As it swung open from the outside, water splashed as Artoria abruptly sank herself up to her shoulders. No one other than her wife, and that scheming bastard of a sister…
"Ah, you're awake!"
But she didn't matter right now, as the man who appeared right at the finale of her last battle had appeared from the door. Held in his arm was her unmistakable blue royal outfit that somehow had found its way to him.
"I found this in your chamber, along with a slew others I was able to salvage," Perhaps noticing her stare boring at her clothes, he spoke to her as he approached, paying no mind to her naked form or even showing a sliver of interest. Not that she realized yet as she was too busy being mindful of her body. "I may be a man but I don't think using wrappings around your chest is healthy. If you'll allow my helpers to measure your bust, they'll whip up new brassieres and lower undergarments in no time. Briefs, slacks, spats - whatever you want."
"I-I'm fine with what I have… thanks…"
"Nonsense. Underwears are essentials for a lady," Lucifer stated in a matter of fact kind of tone and manner. "Especially for a busty one. They do miracles to your back and prevent the shape from sagging."
A hot blush splashed across her face. What kind of a man would talk openly about ladies and their undergarments?
Devils in general, really. The non-reincarnated ones at least.
With the same amount of tact he showed earlier, Lucifer patted her clothes. "These are all I could salvage before the rabbles stormed down your palace."
She eyed him like a hawk as he placed the folded uniform atop of an end table. There was a faucet in its center and a large mirror resting on the wall. Staring at it, Lucifer promptly picked up a loose black string on his suit's shoulder, and idly crushed it as it evaporated into black ashes, disappearing smoothly into the cool air.
"I hope you won't mind that I've taken the liberty of wiping off those blood and visceras from your body," he said, turning to her with one hand on his coal black trousers' pocket.
Her eyes widened slightly. "You… touched my body?"
Lucifer looked confused. "Well… yes? You don't suppose I'd resort to magic when my hands are perfectly capable of wiping if given the appropriate tool. In this case, a towel and a hefty amount of water."
She suddenly felt twice as dirty instead.
"A man…" she whispered under her breath, "has…"
Lucifer was quick to shoot down the notion. "Oh don't you worry my lady. I hold no interest in laying down with you nor do I desire your body. No offense meant; you have a perfectly wonderful figure. It's just that I'm-" he held up his right hand, pointing at the silver jewelry in his ring finger. If looked closely, the name 'Lilith' was engraved on it. "-a bit preoccupied with another lady."
"...I…see…" Artoria blinked once, trying to gather her thoughts from the shock. "...Although...won't your ladyship be upset?"
"She's a very broad-minded woman, I assure you," Lucifer smiled gently. Difficult and aching as it was to remember her, he'd rather not forget her either. Deep inside, her embers burned still. Sometimes warm, sometimes cold and dim.
"W-wait, you mentioned rabbles…?"
"Mmm. Yes. Not a pretty sight," Lucifer pursed his lips as he nodded, taking a seat on the counter. "You're aware of the common people and why they are common and illiterate. They're closest to the brainless apes they are without a ruler to keep them leashed and no rules and guards to tell them what is tolerable and what isn't. Especially when they found out the truth hidden behind your silver armor."
"...My sister must be the one who informed them, doesn't she?"
"She's a very spiteful woman. You shouldn't be surprised."
"I'm not. Just disappointed."
"Siblings are like that sometimes," Lucifer chuckled. He'd gladly wrap his hands around their neck and wring them off their pretty feathers if given the chance. "Feel free to hunt her under your new servitude."
"I made the mistake of not killing her," Artoria seethed. "I won't repeat it again."
And Lucifer would gladly see to that. "Anyway, back with your castle; within the hour, they have successfully ransacked everything ransackable in your place, and torched everything down."
Horror crept its way into her heart and eyes. "...But I… Even though I fought for them…?"
"You did and you died. None of it mattered to them in the end, unfortunately. They adore you when you're alive, but they can't keep their grubby paws to themselves when there's a palace empty of guards and full of shiny riches."
"What of my servants? The helpers in my castle?"
"As far as I'm concerned, they partook in the country-wide activity, your majesty. All the nobles died with you in that battle. Well. You or your daughter. Err...son."
Artoria closed her eyes. Guilt weighed down her body. "I...see… so it is."
"So it is," Lucifer parroted. "But that is the ending of the life you left behind. You've lost your kingdom but that does not mean you won't be able to be king anymore. New paths and new doors are laid before you, Lady Pendragon. Yes it will take a long while, but you have a long while."
"...You… you revived me," she reopened her eyes, remembering her not-so-final moments. "Is that right? I died, didn't I? Everything was dark and…cold…"
"Sadly, yes… but you lived!" Lucifer beamed a toothy smile. "Granted with the help of an external source…" namely Ajuka's Evil Pieces and Lucifer's Demonic Power, but these didn't matter. "...but you're alive again. Second chances are very rare especially to someone who is very much dead."
There were so many questions storming within her mind, and one that struck her was, "And…Mordred?"
"Her as well, as promised," Lucifer assured. "I'm citing her as a 'she' because this whole son-daughter-thing is confusing."
"...She's no son of mine," Artoria clasped her eyes shut with stubborn bitterness. "She betrayed and murdered her king, and brought down the entire kingdom."
"Now, now, don't be so readily dump everything as her fault. The girl misinterpreted her rage caused by your rejection to be your heir-"
"She's unfit to lead a kingdom."
"And now said kingdom had breathed its last breath, burning in a sea of flames set alight by its own people."
"..." The harshly stated truth silenced her.
Being cut off in the middle of his sentence was not something he readily tolerated, but as this woman was in an emotional state, he let it slide with a slap to her wrist.
"Emotions are confusing," Lucifer continued. "And they confused her. Reasonable enough; she was raised by a scheming mother and an uncaring father."
Artoria said nothing but curled her fists, no longer aware that she wasn't covering her chest.
"She thought the anger she felt was fuel for her desire to rip your kingdom from your hands. But I understand desires better than most, and I can tell you what she desired was not your throne or pursuing her right through violence."
She met his crimson eyes. "...What… What do you mean? I entrusted her to watch over the kingdom while I sought for Lancelot, yes she betrayed me and seized my throne and raised my own army against me. For what other reason would she do all of that if not for the throne?"
"Because she saw the burden of the role you took."
"What?"
"Your kingship," Lucifer said. "That golden crown on your head. She wanted to take that burden off you, and claiming it and wearing it herself was the shortest, most straightforward shortcut she saw."
"I don't… understand?"
Lucifer sighed. The problem with 'heroes' was that they always see things in black and white. When in truth, the world wasn't painted that conveniently. Just gray and grayer who always saw themselves as white and painted those who opposed them with black. Precisely what this kingdomless king was doing for years.
"When was the last time you made time for yourself, Artoria," Lucifer asked a simple question all Devils would have answered within a heartbeat, but she struggled to even comprehend what he meant until he made it clearer for her. "When was the last time you did things for yourself?"
Her eyebrows creased.
"Still not getting it? My word…" Lucifer shook his head, running a hand through his white hair swept to the left side. "Fine… I'll rephrase… When was the last time you enjoyed yourself without putting your kingdom in your mind? When you do what you were doing for you, not your kingdom or its people. Just you."
"I…" she understood now. What he was asking her. "A king's duty is to protect their people and realm. Everything I did, I did it for them. I am king. My personal wants should not enter into it."
"Yes, yes, how very dutiful of you," Lucifer muttered dismissively, being strongly against that notion. "But all work and no play isn't good for the soul. It makes them dull and utterly boring. Like those Angels up in Heaven. It's hard to tell which one's which because of how similar they are to one another aside from their appearance."
"...I did what I thought was best for my kingdom. Are you telling me I've been misguided all along?"
"No no no. That's not the point I'm trying to make here, Lady Pendragon - it's about relaxing to relieve your pent up stress once in a while, so you can be king with a clear head instead of brooding all the time. But alas! None of it matters now. It's in the past, and the past shouldn't matter more than the present or the future."
"I… yes… you're right..." her eyes fell down to the soapy water. She realized she was naked still, but no longer cared anymore. "...You wanted to prevent your kingdom from the same fate, right?"
"Well. Not exactly my kingdom anymore as it has a different king, but yes."
"...And you revived Mordred?"
"Yep."
"...What about the others? There are other Knights of the Round Table present in the battle and died with us. Why didn't you bring them back?"
"Ah, I have several reasons for that," Lucifer hopped off from the counter. "First reason is because my resources aren't unlimited, second being you and your daughter are the best knights, and lastly because there are other Devils like me who can do the same."
Her eyes widened. "Devils?"
"Why yes," Lucifer lowered his eyebrows, momentarily confused as they bounced up again. "Wait, haven't I introduced myself?"
"N-no… I don't believe you have."
"Oh. My bad," he said. "My name's Lucifer. Used to be Helel but… 'Lucifer' has more oomph in it, even though they have more or less the same meaning."
"L..Lucifer?"
"Mmm. Yes. Roll off the tongue nicely, doesn't it?"
"I'm… under servitude of the Devil?"
"Well… yes. You're a Devil yourself."
Two crimson eyes rolled when they noticed the shocking horror dramatically emerging from the fallen king's eyes.
"Oh sweet Magdalene… here we go again…" he sighed. "Do you think every bad thing in the world is happening because of the little old me? That your daughter falsely killed you because I influenced her. Is that so?"
She didn't need to speak for him to know her answer. It was always the same, no matter how these humans reworded it.
"'The Devil made me do it'. Is that it? Why. Why would I ever waste my time with how they want to live their life."
"...The faithful believe that you want to drag them to Hell so they can be tortured," Artoria replied with carefulness, like someone who doesn't want to step on a bear trap but was forced to trigger it.
"Torture? My dear… have you seen what humans are capable of doing? Powerless as they are, they didn't let their unmagical nature stop them from inventing torture methods that no Devils have thought of." A calm sea with a bottomless rage began to boil as Lucifer spoke in a calm manner, but clearly angered. "They crucified a good friend of mine. Impaled his hands and feet on a cross with a rusty nail the length of my finger. As if that wasn't enough, they gave him a crown made of thorns, and laughed and mocked him even as he died. For them. A selfless savior wasted. Never understood why Father even bothered."
"I..." The words stopped in her throat. What words? She didn't even know. What to say when the Devil looked like someone who had lost their own brother?
"He was good and kind and they killed them. Then they hunted down his disciples, fried them and served their heads on a silver platter because they hated their preaching. That was thousands years ago, and they have only gone more inventive over the time," Lucifer seethed. "What, you think it's a Devil who invented that thing specifically made to tear out a woman's breasts or give them the idea of sawing people upside down in half to prolong their misery? Do you know how many children are being abused, raped, forced into marriage? How many people have been forced to become soldiers in meaningless wars started by their leaders? How many have killed and will kill for ideals they believe in because it blinded them enough to murder?"
Artoria stayed gravely quiet. There was nothing she could say. His words were unbearably honest and every sentence sliced into her like a blade. The water was warm yet she felt cold and sick.
"And they have the gall to point fingers and accuse my people for the insanity they've done… No. We never lift a finger. We don't have or want to. Humans live their own tiny lives and sin and corrupt others on their own, and they're doing it just fine without any meddling hands. But of course, the blame falls on the Devils or some sort of an evil deity because it's more convenient for them than to admit they are rotten to their core."
The hellfire in his eyes finally dissipated as Lucifer finished his spiel. "My hands aren't clean, but theirs are far bloodier and they won't apologize, I assure you."
"...There are good people out there…" Artoria muttered. "...Those that deserve mercy despite their faults. People can change."
"They change only if it suits them or when it's too late," he scoffed. "The good doesn't wash out the bad, or the other way around. This is true. A single drop of milk in a sea of tar."
Lucifer straightened his suit, fixing his smooth white tie on top of his red dress shirt as he prepared to leave her with her thoughts.
"Which is why I'm picking out the good flowers from Father's dying garden, so I can raise them and see them grow on my own. Man or woman, black or white, Hell doesn't care. Being a Devil or a Demon won't automatically suppress you from doing good or force you to do evil. You do what you want. That's the point I made when I dropped out of Heaven." Him and the 72 others who agreed with him.
Lucifer took one last look at her, and confirmed for himself that the point he made was clear to her.
"Apology for my outburst," he said. "Refusing to be a scapegoat for something I bear no responsibility is a theme in my life, I'm afraid. But let's not dwell on this silly blame game. Your stomach must be empty, yes? Dinner has been prepared, and I have one of my helpers stationed outside this room. Just talk to her and she'll lead you to the dining room. Good evening, and do enjoy your bath time."
She gave him a silent nod, and Lucifer walked out the door.
As the door clicked shut, Artoria fell into a silent pondering. She hadn't truly wiped away the possibility that she was being lied to, but she didn't completely throw away the possibility of him speaking the truth either… Because she was able to see his point. Humanity was indeed corrupt and easily misled, which was why they needed a king to keep them on the right path.
Then again… the light of her kingdom couldn't reach some shadows where the corrupt plotted to tear down the light. Her own sister slinked in the shadows, and she brought down an entire kingdom on her own through manipulating her own king and their daughter.
As a king, Artoria couldn't step inside the shadows as it wasn't right of her.
But perhaps… even as a Devil… she could yet still serve the light.
break
Although all nobles have their own personal preferences to the dress code of their servants, most commonly a dress inspired from the scattered kingdoms in Western Europe, with varying colors according to their House's crests, it was easy to separate those who served Lucifer. Instead of puffy maid dresses, his house helpers dressed in any formal outfit they preferred, black and rich red in color. Though they were rather difficult to spot because of their low numbers.
For a fact, Castle Lucifaad was the most compact castle in the entire Underworld. Seated snugly at the top of a flat hill in the Eisen Fields, surrounded by nothing than grassy plains and
Red had always been Lilith's color. No one could wear red nearly as well as her. Signifying bravery, dignity, and most of all, her fiery passion. She was an excellent lover and an even better wife. As for black, Lucifer simply favored its simplicity and sleekness. It was a commanding color that conveyed power, authority, and perhaps drama. A symbolism of stature, of sorts. And it was intended from Lucifer himself. Despite being his servants, they demanded enough respect that all highborn Devils would think twice to dare lay a hand on any of them.
And his servants had a devil who dictated their duties. Signified by the silver suit he wore in contrast to the black and red, Euclid Lucifuge was that devil. Fiercely loyal and devoted and answer to no one but his Lord Lucifer himself.
Euclid was always at the ready, and Lucifer rewarded his loyalty with his trust and ears. No advice spoken from this man had ever gone unnoticed by Lucifer. Rejected, yes. But not without consideration.
"Excuse me for my rudeness, my Lord, but may I ask you as to why you chose a woman devoted to a dead god to be your Queen? In terms of Evil Pieces, of course."
"She's more devoted to her kingdom than the dead God. Her strong sense of duty has been her own downfall, but she's no longer bound to her kingdom. She's bound to me, and she'll serve me better without a kingdom chained on her ankles."
Lucifer presently stared out the window of his castle overlooking the pristine land and the rolling hills of the Lucifaad territory. The blade of grass swaying along the cool night breeze. The artificial star he created to light the otherwise everlasting darkness glowing dimly as it was supposed to be nighttime throughout the entire Hell. It glowed without the negative effects toward the Devils or Demons. Not unlike the sun created by his father, who had deemed the dwellers of the Underworld unfit to be 'blessed' by its light.
Well screw him. He could make his own. Maybe not as big as hot, but it didn't need to be big or hot. Who liked heat anyway? Hell was much smaller and far less populated and polluted. Easier to control the weather compared to the gargantuan piece of rock filled with water and walking primitive apes.
There had been no other living soul other than those residing or working in his castle. Not because Lucifer despised lowborn Devils or Demons, but because he wanted to get away from all their noises. To admire the land he and his old friends and their sons and daughters had created. That, and because he wanted to be alone while he occasionally remembered Lilith a bit too much to stay chipper.
Hell was as or even more beautiful than Earth. Garden of Eden was still unrivaled, but it would get there. If Lilith was present, she'd want nothing less the same. An accessible paradise where no one had to queue up on some golden gate with a huge discriminatory 'NO DEMONS OR DEVILS ALLOWED' hovering above it while an old Angel searched for their name in some dusty book.
"While that remains true, my Lord," Euclid said, "perhaps you could have been more… mindful? Towards her faith and virtues? Towards her… fascination towards the illusion called honor?"
Lucifer smiled. Euclid's worry was not without vivid reasonings. "The honor does not scheme, my boy. You trust them with something to fight for and they'll die protecting it before thinking of surrendering it to a higher bidder."
"...Ah. I see now. Apologies if I appear to be doubting you, my Lord."
"Yes, yes. You're worried about my safety. No need to be sorry for that," Lucifer said dismissively. "Any news when I'm trotting around the globe? How long was I gone this time?"
"Just a day under a week," Euclid replied, "And no, my Lord. There have been no significant issues or matters during your absence."
"Hmm," He nodded, humming. "And Jeanne?"
"She's still in her cell. Condemned guilty from heresy and will be sentenced to death by burning. Tomorrow at two o'clock in the afternoon for the public's eyes to see. Specifically Vieux-Marché in Rouen," Euclid stated clearly and flawlessly.
"Ah, so the Inquisitors failed to defend their child."
"Griselda and Dulio, my Lord? There was only so much they could do to win against an unjust trial. Justice matters only for the just."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow out of interest. "Am I hearing you defending these 'lowly human' you defined, Euclid? How long have I been away again?"
"There are simply lower cretins beneath their lowly soles, my Lord."
The Devil heh'ed, amused.
"Should I prepare the marshmallows, my Lord? I'd assume you will be attending the bonfire event."
"I'll be paying her a visit later tonight," Lucifer said. "See if I can instill some senses in that thick head of hers. Mayhaps the unfair treatment she received would have put a dent in her beliefs."
"Perhaps not, but you will find dents on her back, that's for certain."
"Did they finally resort to torture?"
"They have. It astonished me why they didn't take her virginity at that point if they so wished to defile her further. In fact I think they would if they were not sniffed out by Dulio Gesualdo and be put in chains."
Lucifer wasn't surprised by either. Dulio was one of those people who wanted to do good in a place surrounded by evil.
"I'll see her after dinner then. Ready another bedroom."
"Of course, my most gracious one."
Lucifer lowered his eyelids, staring at the head butler with great exasperation. "Stop that."
"Stop what, my Lord?"
"Annoying me with needless manners and etiquettes."
"Ah, but how else can I solidify my spot in the 'Servile Snarkers Hall of Fame'?
"By 'my lording' other Devils that isn't me," Lucifer ordered. "Drop the epithets. If I like fancy titles I'd have worn an oversized robe with glitters on it."
"I'll ready the glitters," Euclid Lucifuge said as he swiveled around, returning to his post which was a pillar behind the chair at the end of the dining table. A satisfied smile was on his face, as he noted a shadow darkening a corridor. "One of your 'guests' has arrived, my Lord."
"Which?"
"The taller and the bustier one."
"And the other?"
"Not yet out of her room, I'm afraid. A very heavy sleeper that one, despite her stature. "
"She's a teenager," Lucifer pointed out, moving to his chair. "They need more sleep to grow."
"Apparently so even if they have shattered an entire kingdom."
"Mmm. Imagine what she can do once she matures," the Devil ended as Artoria came out from a corridor that was narrower than most Devils' glorious palaces. Not as shiny either, but held its own simplistic beauty in them.
Hair neatly kept in a bun, Artoria was dressed in her noble navy blue attire. Blue uniform with golden accents and same-colored skirt with a slit on both its sides for more mobility. Gave him a peek at her thighs that weren't covered by her thigh-high dark blue stockings, but Lucifer didn't really care at the moment. She looked good in blue, however. A difficult color to look good in as people tend to associate it with intelligence, trust, efficiency, and tranquility.
In fact, he couldn't remember if there were any Devil Houses that used blue as their main motifs.
"You look stunning in blue. Really brings out your eyes." Lucifer commented idly, standing next to his chair on a table for eight. Ten if you counted the two unoccupied edges.
"Thank you," Artoria nodded courteously, only to be responded with a knife floating in front of her left eye.
"When you speak to a Master you say 'my Lord'," Euclid warned, speaking in a clear and calm tone.
"Cut it out, Euclid," Lucifer spoke as he took control of the silverware, floating it back to the table where it belonged with the rest of its utensil buddies. "She'll address me as she wishes. Enforced formality only creates unnecessary walls. And don't threaten my retainers, you moron."
Euclid lowered himself. "...But of course, my Lord. This one humbly apologizes, Lady Pendragon… King of a fallen kingdom."
"Euclid. Don't make me call you 'Eugene'."
"An honest slip of my sharp tongue, my Lord."
"Yes, yes," Lucifer shook his head as he made his way to the stunned woman. "I do apologize for his behavior. Humans are… not as welcome in the eyes of a Devil."
"It's… alright. I'm sorry, Lord Lucifer…"
Lucifer lowered his eyelids to cover half his eyes, throwing a look at this butler. "See what you've done? Another step across the line and I'll betroth your sister to Sirzechs."
Euclid was grimly silent. "...Please don't. I'll find it difficult to continue to serve you in my best if my mind is plagued with the idea of offing the Gremory, my Lord."
"That's what I thought," Lucifer huffed. "Please. Take a seat. And don't 'my lord' me if you feel forced. We work together, side by side, not front and behind."
"...I understand," Artoria nodded. "But as I am your subject,"
"Retainer."
"Retainer," she corrected herself, "I don't feel it's right to address a nobleman directly by their name."
Lucifer exhaled. A bridge must be crossed before she felt at ease to call him without these meaningless forms of addressing others. "Fine, fine. Do what you will. Just sit down."
"Thank you, my lord."
Another sigh. "Call in the meal, Euclid."
No witty remarks this time. He had a job to do. With a snap of his fingers, dull silver lights radiated from the sides of the modestly-sized wooden-panelled dining room. One magic circle bearing the crest of Lucifuge materialized, and Artoria was once again reminded that she was no longer in a world where magic was seen as spectacular or required a sanctified weapon blessed by a deity.
The thought of her weapons spiralled away when the lights from the pentagrams had molded itself into a figure.
Rather, a woman. A woman in a dark red turtleneck sweater, tucked nicely under a black vest and completed with an elegant office skirt that flowed to her shins, revealing her long leg from its one slit on the side. Her dull grey hair was tied up in a ponytail, her bangs framing her graceful face as the rest of her gray locks reached all the way to her back still. Same color as her younger brother.
"Welcome home, Lord Lucifer," Grayfia Lucifuge said with a light bow, moving towards the table with four silver platters floating next to her. "Your dinner, as requested."
The plates shifted in the air, gently settling themselves before him and the woman seated, the other two settling themselves on an empty seat next to him and Artoria. The covers swept up into the air, leaving only the steaming cuisine of a perfectly cooked and sliced duck breast, glazed with rich dark red sauce of simmered red wine. Resting to its side was a scoop of mashed potatoes, topped with green rosemary leaf. Their flavors exploded in the air, making Artoria's stomach growl from the scents alone.
"Mmm… grilled duck," Lucifer muttered. "Been a while since I had this."
"Perhaps consider coming back for dinner, my Lord," Euclid pipped. "My sister aspires to appease you through your stomach."
"I just might. Grayfia's an excellent cook,"-and an even better fighter when need be-"She's the older sister of this pompous butler, Euclid Lucifuge. Go ahead and eat, my dear. You must be famished."
Artoria nodded gingerly, and gave another nod towards the presumed chef as the utensils started to sing. She cut a small portion of the red meat, sliding smoothly into her fork, and brought it between her lips, and the flavors blossomed in her mouth like flowers opening to the sun.
No one in Camelot could have prepared this dish. She doubted if it even had all the ingredients to imitate the recipe.
In his seat, Lucifer swirled a glass of cold spring water in his wine glass out of sheer amusement from watching his new retainer eat. The dish was exceptionally good, as per usual, but nothing had tasted quite the same when Lilith wasn't by his side, enjoying the same dining, cracking jokes with his established guests or feeding him with those alluring chuckles of hers.
Ten years, he thought. Ten years and still he was missing her smile, sometimes hallucinating her face on other people's. Grief should be turned into the eight sins because then at least he could control it and channel it as his strength, not be drowned by it as it crashed in untimely waves whenever it felt like messing up his day.
Lucifer lodged a piece of meat into his mouth. The rich juicy meat suddenly tasted like ash. Oh well. This was what it felt to lose the woman he cherished since his exile. How long was it? Three, four, five thousand years? He didn't know. He didn't care.
"Ah, yes… Grayfia, can you please take her measurements later on?"
"As you wish, my Lord."
Artoria nearly choked on the red wine she was drinking. "There's… there's no need, my lord. My current clothes suit me just right."
"What, you plan to wear that every single day? My green Devil, like the body, clothes need to be washed at the very least once a day," Lucifer sniggered warmly. "Or if you'd like to run around naked in this entire castle while your clothes are being washed… Well then, be my guest. We're broad-minded individuals here."
"I highly suggest against that, if I may," Euclid pitched in his two cents. Or two Hel, in Hell's term of monetary currency. "Not unless you wish to be devoured by a ravenous Demon of lust bearing the name of Modeus."
"I-I'll take up on your offer th-then…" Artoria sputtered. It sure would take a while for her to grow accustomed to the… norms of this place. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. And when in Hell… well… she supposed stubbornly holding on to her norms would be considered as rude.
"Excellent. Handle with care, Grayfia. This one is rather fragile and prude," Euclid said. Lucifer just nodded along. A fact was still a fact even if it stung her pride. "On that note, might I suggest shortening Modeus' leash, Lord Lucifer?"
"Why?" Lucifer swallowed another tasteless mashed potato. "Is she scraping your door again at midnight?"
"Not my door," Euclid smiled.
"Mine," Grayfia completed. Annoyance seeping in her usually flat tone. "May I ask permission to feed her to the Cerberuses? They haven't had a soul for weeks."
"You'll do no such twisted thing. You'll murder my dogs from intoxication," Lucifer chuckled. "Have Pandemonica lecture her for a week. In the dungeon. Alone. Provide her the caffeine she needed to ensure Modeus won't repeat her offense. For a month, at least."
"I will. My sincere gratitude, Lord Lucifer."
"Mmm. That's the least I can do in return for you two holding down the fort while I observe the humans," Lucifer said as he finished the last of his meal, and laughed as he noted Artoria was staring at her clean plate. "Enjoy your seconds, Artoria. Those're prepared for you. There are other chefs in the kitchen ready to cook for your daughter," Lucifer gestured his arm, and Grayfia nodded before disappearing in the same lights she appeared in. "We're in Hell! There's no need to be so reserved. You'll need the energy anyway."
Though slightly embarrassed, Artoria couldn't deny she didn't want the flavors in her mouth to die away. Before she could reach out to the covered silver platter next to her, Lucifer had it floated to her while her empty plate had dematerialized into tiny motes of dust, shimmering in the air before completely disappearing - only to re-emerge in one of the kitchen sinks, but she didn't know this yet.
"Thank you," she said, breathing in relief as the grilled duck was still hot and rich in taste.
"Yes. Enjoy yourself," Lucifer said, taking a swig of his drink. He could enjoy cold water, at least.
"Forgive me to intrude," Artoria minded herself, "is my lord's ladyship not going to join for dinner?"
Euclid's face turned sour, and he paid extreme caution to watch over his lord's expression.
The same as whenever someone made a mention of his late wife; he'd stop whatever he was doing, as if frozen in time, and he'd take a small breath as he gazed down over his nose, and put on a simple fake smile that had fooled too many oblivious Devils and Demons alike that they mistook Lord Lucifer as a man who could forget his other half.
"She won't be joining us tonight or anytime soon, I'm afraid."
"Oh? Is she away on a trip?"
"She is," Lucifer smiled softly. "Somewhere in a place I can't yet follow. At the black desert under the endless night where the sun never sets and the stars never fade. "
"That sounds like a beautiful place," Artoria said innocently, actually taken by his poetry.
"It is. She only made it more beautiful and alluring."
"You adore your wife greatly. I apologize for… doubting and thinking you were planning to take advantage of me. It was unfair from me to accuse you without concrete evidence."
"Mhmm. Yep. Don't mind it. The only woman I adore and potentially the last."
He might be a Devil, but his love seemed genuine for her. Even Devils could be in love, she supposed. "If possible, I'd like to accompany you should you ever leave there and see the place for myself."
"Oh we all will go there someday. Just not soon or when it's the least expected."
"Lord Lucifer…"
"I don't plan to join her, Euclid," Lucifer clarified, gesturing a hand. Lilith could rest, but his duty here was not done. "Where's Ingvild, by the by?"
break
The young Devil in question had just turned around as sharply as the corner where she took the turn and gracefully crashed into a statue.
Or what she thought to be a statue… because she was certain there were no statues in these castles. Her uncle didn't like statues, for some reason. He also told her to not run in the hallway, but Ingvild couldn't contain herself when she was told of his return. She woke up for dinner. The reunion was unexpected.
"Whoa there- you okay?"
Neither was the crash… or the boy standing before her, extending a hand to pick her up. Strange clothes for a boy, however… The short ponytail was not the first, neither were the faint muscles shadowing the stomach, but Ingvild couldn't remember seeing anyone walking around in their underwear before.
Unless it was Modeus, but Modeus had white hair, not the pale blonde this boy had.
Her sunset orange eyes blinked as her stare had gotten the boy to feel uncomfortable.
"...You gonna take my hand or are you just gonna stare at it…?"
"Oh, yes. Sorry," Ingvild muttered, grasping the boy's hand.
'So soft!' Was the thought that instantly exploded inside Mordred's head. Compared to her silky smooth skin, her hands must have felt like the surface of a craggy battlefield.
Not just that, the girl was remarkably adorable. Her hair was like one of those flowers she spotted in the field that she didn't know the name of -lilac, if she did know-, and she had the same fragrant smell too. Her white dress had an airy feel to it, elegant yet youthful, and her arms were fair and just as smooth.
Mordred feared she'd broken her bones just from the earlier crash, but as the girl got up just fine and was staring at her with her big orange eyes, she figured she was fine.
"Who are you?" Ingvild asked curiously.
"I'm Mordred Pendragon. Son of King Arthur. A proud Knight of the Round Table," she introduced herself proudly, complete with a toothy smirk. "Are you one of the Devils running this place?"
Ingvild nodded several times, looking up and down at the 'Knight'. Did uncle Lucifer finally use Ajuka's gift? If so, then this person must be treated as a friend.
With that in mind, Ingvild extended her hand again. "I'm Ingvild Leviathan. Daughter of… erm… Leviathan. Nice to meet you. Can I call you Morty?"
"Nice to meet you to— what? No! My name's Mordred!"
"Oh, okay." Ingvild looked a little bit disappointed, but they shook hands anyway.
Mordred scratched her cheek. "Leviathan huh…? I thought those're sea monsters."
"Sea monsters? There's no monsters in the seas here. Only Undines and the occasional Sea Wyrms, but they're not really monsters. They just don't like it if you play in their place for too long. They get really grumpy."
"Wh… Sea Wyrms…? Who'd play around Sea Wyrms…?"
Ingvild blinked owlishly. "Huh? You don't?"
"How am I the odd one here?"
She tilted her head, causing her bangs to drape over one eye. "Don't you have Sea Wyrms in your oceans?"
"No!" Mordred exclaimed, "W-well… not that I'd know… Never been out to the sea before to tell."
"Hmmm…? Then what do you do to spend your time?"
"I train my swordsmanship. Hone my skills and train my strength. What else would a knight do? Time is precious."
"Is that what knights do?"
"...Yes?" Now even Mordred wasn't so sure. This Devil must be casting some magic on her with her large eyes.
"Oh… that sounds… horribly boring."
"Wha—"
"Are you hungry?" Ingvild promptly said as she finally remembered her original goal until she dropped it somewhere when she bumped into Mordred. "I'm going to the dining room."
Ain't that a nice coincidence. "I was heading there myself. Got lost in the way."
"Lost? Here? Even though it's the smallest castle in Hell?"
"W-well it's still a castle! And it's my first time being here too!"
"Ah. Right. That makes sense," Ingvild nodded to herself, as if she just cracked a mystery open. "I'm not hungry but my uncle is there… I think you should see him too."
"Uncle…?"
"Yes!" Ingvild beamed a smile so bright Mordred thought she was staring at the sun. "Uncle Lucy! He just came here from his adventures!"
Mordred further furrowed her brows, creasing the skin between them. "...Lucy…? Isn't that a girl's name?"
"Really? But Uncle is the most gentlemanly Devil in the entire Hell. You should go meet him if you want to grow up to be a gentleman too, so let's go!"
Ingvild yanked her hand, and Mordred felt like she was being pulled by an excitable dog. "H-hey wait! Don't just grab my hand! I can walk fine on my own!"
To be continued...
Mordred more like Moedred
Ingvild more like… DamnIwishsheismysister
In case you struggle with what Lucifer looks like, just search up Aizen from Bleach, cut off that annoying loose hair, and dye his hair in white. That's the closest it'll get for this Luci. Hairstyle wise, at least… because I'm not the type to write four paragraphs depicting how he looks and how tall he is and how handsome he is and why women fall head over heels just by looking at him.
People telling me to focus on one story: please fuck off kindly c:
I'm writing these stories for me. For free. And without begging for support. Because i don't need it as much as other people do
If you want someplace to complain maybe consider going to tumblr or rant about it on twitter. Who knows, maybe you'll find your lost brain cells. I'm starting to lose my mind and motivation to write because of upstuck biased pricks who think a story must be tailored to their taste otherwise it's a pile of trash.
You're in fanfiction mate. It's the entire dumpster. You're already a piece of trash yourself. Let's not pretend we're not degenerates by being here, so let's just enjoy the ride together instead of pointing fingers and say 'this filth must not become me' with noses held up.
Anyway it's been ya boy Danzy, stay frosty and have a nice day ( ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)