Prejudice


It was gloomy, here in my cell. I really couldn't say how I'd gotten here, but there was only one place I knew would have white marble in their dungeons. Really, it was the only place that had white-marble everything— The White City.

Now, last time I checked, I hadn't done anything in particular to piss them off. That I remember. Which isn't saying much, really, but in my defense I tend to keep track of my annoyances as fond memories and thus am not likely to forget them. And I don't exactly hate these angels either, so there wouldn't be much of a reason for me to do something nasty to them.

I was given a cot, at least. Which was a lot comfier than a lot of surfaces I'd been forced to sleep on— Either the angels are far more epicurean than even I imagined, or I had been given a small mercy by someone unknown. And, instead of sitting around and worrying myself to death that the Four were off slaughtering any doves they could get their hands on, I laid down and did it. The chains didn't give me much leeway for pacing either, so it was really the lesser of two evils.

Though, while I had a comfy cot, this dungeon was still like any other in the way that it was horribly cold. I had no blanket with which to cover myself, so I merely curled up in a ball on the soft padding and tried to conserve heat that way. It didn't really work, but I liked to think otherwise. Self-delusion is half the battle in trying to survive, after all.

But, in the midst of my laments over the temperature and complaints about the lack of something to cover my shivering back with, there was the sound of a lock clicking, and then sliding out of place. Half-fearful that it was another one of the opinionated guards here to bring me food, I opened my eyes to just slivers in order to keep up the pretense of sleep. Thus, I really couldn't see the blurry blob of a silhouette too well, but I was able to notice how it hesitated before approaching. No silent judgement, so air of scorn— A hand reached out tentatively, and I reacted instinctively.

I grabbed the wrist it belonged to, turned it aside to land a disarming blow in the solar plexus of whomever it was…

…And stopped mid-strike when I actually saw who it was.

"Azrael," I blurted out on a hiss, releasing his wrist with a sharp jerk of my hand. "What in the world are you doing here? At this time of night, in a prisoner's cell— This isn't going to look good for you, not at all!" I rolled off the cot and tried ushering him out of the cell, but he's a lot bigger than me— Like most everyone I meet around here— and it didn't work too well.

A pair of warm hands landed on my shoulders, and the relief I felt at it had me faintly discomfited. Or I was just really, really cold and he isn't, so it felt weird.

"You are worried about that when it's for your sake that I've come." The grave-toned Angel of Death sighed in greeting. "You needn't try so hard to impress, young one. I am on your side already."

I screwed my face up, looking at him funny. "What are you sellin'?" I asked bluntly, sitting back down. "Of course I'm worried about that. Over half the population of the White City is under the assumption that you're going to randomly start an uprising or something. Which means you really shouldn't be seen with me right now, in this situation. I am the last person you need to be seeing right no—"

A hand covered my mouth lightly, and I glared at him poutily over it. He never lets me finish ranting… "I care not." He declared simply, keeping his voice low. "I understand that the Law is important, perhaps even necessary. But as long as we, the constituents, enforce it… We cannot expect to be right all of the time. Now, tell me. What know you, of why you are here?"

I watched uneasily as he knelt on the floor before me, and noticed for the first time his lack of regal robes— He was clad in simple clothes, suiting to him well enough but oddly not doing him enough justice. I guess I just got too used to seeing him in all the gilded gold and filigree… "Well, I wasn't exactly given a reason why they abducted me." I confessed, twining my fingers together on my lap and looking to them for courage to continue. "I got told a lot that I was bad, though— That only demons try to wield control over others. I suppose they were calling me manipulative or something. Which isn't exactly wrong…" I shrugged a shoulder. "I don't have all the muscle everyone else does, so I have to get other people to do things for me. It makes sense."

Two bronzed, warm hands covered both of mine, removing them from sight and causing me to blink up at him curiously. Azrael gazed at me steadily, and said, "It is not their place to judge you. The denizens of the White City do not get to decide your place, nor the demons or even the Horsemen. Outside of the conflict you were born, and outside of the conflict you shall live. And I fear to tell you that the blame may be mine, as to why you are here."

He was trying to comfort me, I realized, and mentally fumbled around for an answer worthy enough. "You mean you got me thrown in here?" My mouth bumbled along. "Is this because I didn't come and visit as much as I said? I had sent letters in apology, but I was so busy and—…" Someone, just smite me now.

"I am saying that there was a vote in the White City, as to my fate." He intervened, fingers giving a squeeze. "They had come to an agreement that my punishment would be mete out by the Rider of whom I had committed the transgression. There were many hoping for my death."

"And now they don't like me, because I stopped it." I sighed, head drooping. "Well, I can't make friends with everyone." Then I smiled a bit. "Just the ones who count. But, I want you to remember that you're one of the most important angels to existence. They couldn't just decide to throw you away like that."

The Angel of Death smiled upon me at that. "I never claimed my race to be the most rational of minds, no matter how hard they try to achieve it." He appeased me amiably. "A lot of mistakes are going to be made in the aftermath of the Betrayal, and this is one of them. You will be released by morn… One way or another."

I blanched at his meaning. "Please tell me the Horsemen didn't find out. War's already on the White City's blacklist— A second rampage is going to make him a target." My head spun with the implications of it.

Azrael raised his brows and sighed. "What am I to do with you? Here you are, at the mercy of those with questionable intentions, and all you care for is everyone else." He clicked his tongue at me in a clear, rare expression of disapproval. I don't get that reaction from him often…

I blinked at him. "I'm not at the mercy of someone with questionable intentions at the moment." I stated bluntly. "You already told me I'll be out by morning, so why should I worry?" I wriggled my arms at the elbows. "Though, it is really cold in here. That worries me." Then I wriggled my hands under his. "Couldn't they have at least given me a blanket? Yeesh." I gave him a look of bemused 'what can you do?'

He studied me for a moment or two, as if debating something. It was a little funny, seeing him indecisive about something. But, he must have come to some conclusion, for he nodded and reached up to his neck. A tie was undone, and the cape draped over his shoulder slid down. As I was too busy flinching at the shock of the chilled air hitting my hands, I didn't see it when the material was whirled out to settle over my shoulders until it actually had.

I immediately tucked it around me, because it was warm too. It brought a grateful smile to be born, and he returned it as he smoothed the velveteen fabric down my arms. "That will do the trick. Now that I have taken care of that worry, I will see to it that the Horsemen stay their blades. If I can end this peacefully, then it will be all the better." He let go, and then pushed to his feet with the same grace he took to the sky. "Have you need of anything, in the meantime?"

The only thing I needed right then was a law that said angels weren't allowed to be so free with their smiles— But then I remembered that they really didn't smile that frequently, and I should consider myself lucky to get to see it as often as I do. Lucky, lucky… "No, nothing really. As long as the patrols keep their tongues in check, I shouldn't have any temptation to strangle someone."

His smile went serene, and it was then that I was reminded that, while he was an angel, he could be a little shifty himself. "I have no qualms with lending you my mantle, young one. But it would be appreciated if you could wash the bloodstains out of it before returning it to me."

I grinned.

"Duly noted."


Authors Note: Well, as it seems I am completely and utterly out of control as to where this series of one-shots is going, I am just going to say that I regret nothing and perhaps am going to take another stroll through the game. :3