Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/Abaddon
Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery
Chapter: 8
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me
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Abaddon chuckled at seeing the boy eat like he wouldn't be getting anything the rest of the week. "Can I speak to you after dinner about that letter you send me yesterday, Azrael?"
"Certainly." The scholar was likewise amused, though also worried. How did Nephilim feed their children if a roughly five-year old packed as much as an angelic warrior? "Zeruch, slow down a bit, will you? There is plenty."
"Sowwy." The boy slowed down obediently. His face and hands were a complete mess... again.
"Been a while since you had a good meal?" The General smirked lightly. "Though normally one uses one's utensils for eating." He waved his fork lightly.
"Let the poor boy." The Scholar was quick to come to his ward's rescue. "Let us be glad he still knows how to chew. I doubt demons feed their prisoners properly."
Zeruch ducked his head at that, looking at the utensils beside his plate. Hesitantly, he picked up the fork, stabbing his next bite with it. Angels were weird...
"See?" Azrael pointed out.
"Alright, alright." Abaddon raised his hands in a placating gesture. "You're the all-knowing scholar, remember?"
"In comparison with you, that is not hard." The rune-winged angel's statement was accentuated with a snorted giggle from the far end of the table, Zeruch smothering his laughter in his hand.
"Ares you married? When Stwife and Sis argues Eldest says they's married." The boy tilted his head in confusion when Abaddon spit his food halfway across the table.
"No, we are not." Throwing a glare at his guest, Azrael made the spilled food disappear with a wave of his hand. "Just friends."
In answer, the warrior muttered something under his breath, making the scholar whack him with his wing and send another glare in his direction. It promptly sent the boy into another fit of giggles.
"Anyway, not married." Azrael stated again. "I think I'd do something decidedly un-angelic if I ended up with this..." He waved a hand in Abaddon's general direction. "for the rest of eternity."
"You have yet to complain." The broader male countered. Within moments, the two were bickering.
"Don't worry, they do that all the time." A warm female's voice told the now slightly worried child. "The Lords cannot be around each other for longer than an hour before they start arguing about something." Damiana leaned down beside him, exchanging an empty pot for a full one. "In fact, one has to be worried if they don't argue." She added in a conspiratorial whisper.
Zeruch giggled again, fuzzing a bit when the matronly angel cleaned his face and hands with a wet towel.
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"Now what did you want to speak with me about?" Azrael sat down on one of his lounges, inviting the general to sit down opposite him. Damiana had taken the young boy under her wing and was currently teaching him how cookies were made.
"Why the Hell do you want to know where the Nephilim are?" Taking the glasses of wine, Abaddon took the invitation.
"They grow bolder each passing year." The scholar took the proffered glass. Thank the Creator he was quite adept at rationalizing just about everything if it suited his needs. "How long before they will attack one of the Kingdoms, Abaddon? How long before they come here?"
"They would not dare." The proud General seemed almost offended at the notion.
"I am sure several other worlds thought likewise." Sipping at his wine, the mystic leaned back a bit. "Well…?"
"They conquering a planet, but they abandoned it in haste halfway through their slaughter." Pride not-withstanding, Abaddon was always willing to help. "From what the inhabitants could gather, there was a large-scale demon-assault. There are corpses just about everywhere on there."
The face Azrael made could either have been distaste at the demonic involvement… or at the fact that if the Nephilim had gone into hiding, there was no way he could return Zeruch to his family.
"I don't like demons, but whatever they did, it was darn effective." The broad male continued. "And it'll keep their eyes off us, for certain."
"Yes…"
They both were interrupted when Zeruch ran into the room, holding a plate above his head. Somehow, he managed not to drop a single cookie on it. "Mades these." He offered them to the two males, who both obediently took one.