Category: Darksiders I & II

Rating: T

Couples: Azrael/Abaddon, Zeruch(War)/OC

Warnings: AU, Disturbing Imagery

Chapter: 42

Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me

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"It's been over a decade now, Zeruch!" Naya'il exclaimed in frustration. "She's been courting you for over a decade and you just won't take that final step? Why?"

"People hardly get married within a decade, Naya." Zeruch muttered darkly, trying to concentrate on his paperwork, but his friend always compensated for her small size by being made from pure volume if she felt the situation called for it. "Also, I am very certain you haven't finished your share of the work yet."

"To the Well with the work." She snarled. "I'm not expecting you to marry Gabriel, but I am expecting you to be engaged at least. Monks don't take this long."

"Monks are required to stay abstinent." Her commander dryly answered that statement.

"Exactly!" His second-in-command exclaimed. "Creator, what is wrong with you!? She's the biggest catch among the women of Heaven short of Iaoel… who doesn't count because she is a Firstborn." She slammed her hands on the desk. "And you're just sitting here instead of using the fact that she wants you to your advantage."

"Naya'il." The blue-eyed warrior glared at her. "Mind your words."

"Then explain to me the 'why'!" The glare passed by her without any effect. "You two have become a bigger dream-pair than your parents ever were in the eons people put them together! I want to bet she has wanted to progress for years now, so why don't you?"

"There have been far longer courtships than this one." Zeruch abruptly rose from his seat, heading to fetch a book from the bookcase on the opposite side of the office.

"For people that did not know one another beforehand!" She did not follow him, her wings beating in her agitation. "For people that did not write letters for years!"

"She hardly knew me." His wings were tight against his back, muscles tense.

"She knew you well enough to initiate the courtship." The small female snarled. "Why are you so stubborn!? I have seen you two together whenever she visits here! Creator, she is this close to throwing propriety down the Well and jumping at you! Did you even see some of the outfits she wore the last few times!? Those were more appropriate in a bedroom of a married couple… or prostitutes, fo…"

"Don't you dare call her that!" His voice beat against her like a storm, but even that hardly fazed Naya'il. Mostly because she knew that if she didn't throw him off his equilibrium, Azrael's teachings of serenity would mean she might as well talk to a wall. Though she always would apologize later on.

"Then. Tell. Me. Why!?" She did step back a bit, his blue eyes blazing. "What is keeping you from her!? Why are you keeping yourself from her!?"

Zeruch, the rising star of the White City, deflated after a short staring-match between them. "I am not worthy of her."

"What." She almost whispered at that only to have her voice rise sharply. "Are you even more insane!? Why the Hell would you be unworthy of her? You're the son of her equals, projected to become a greater warrior than Abaddon himself! If anything, she'd be more likely to be unworthy of you!"

"You don't understand." He turned away from her, clutching his desk.

"Then explain it to me." She would not let him, almost flapping her way into his desk so she could see his face. "Because I can't understand if you don't explain."

His shoulders sagged while he turned his face away from her.

"Zeruch." She beseeched him, flying around him to catch his gaze.

He finally mumbled something, pushing off from the wooden piece of furniture to head over to the window.

"I am not Orth, Zeruch, I can't understand mumbles." She left him his space, remaining at the desk.

She saw his grip on his own arms tighten. "I am a Nephilim."

"What."

"I'm a Nephilim!" He snapped at her, trembling now. "I… I will never be worthy enough for her. I would taint her, defile her... I... I..." He backed away, sliding down the wall he hit. "That's why I never wanted her to know those were my letters…"

"You're… a Nephilim?" The pure-blooded angel echoed, backing away as well. Had Zeruch been looking at her, he'd have seen thousands of thoughts shoot through her mind. "Oh Creator, that makes so much sense!" She exploded into laughter, clutching her sides.

"What." Now it was his turn to look confused.

"You being a Nephilim, it explains so much." The smaller angel snorted. "I always wondered why you were so weird when we were small… Your eyes and… well, you in general, I guess." She gestured him over. Even crouched down as he was, it was clearly visible he had surpassed even Abaddon in size, towering over almost any angel anyone could name including nearly all of Heaven's vaunted Firstborn. "But if you're half-demon… well, that explains all that, doesn't it?"

"You're not upset?" He blinked at his still snickering friend.

"I know you, Zeruch, you're more angelic than many angels… honestly, taking this long to get going in a relationship." She shook her head, chuckling at his astonished face. "Oh my god, does that mean you got your cute, tiny fangs from your other side of the family?" She poked his cheek. "Though I think you got your chubby cheeks from the angels…"

"I don't have chubby cheeks!" He flapped his wings at her, hiding behind the thick feathers.

"Sure you do." She ducked under them, squishing her friend's face. "Creator, you got to be the cutest Nephilim around."

"Stop that."

"Hell no."