Category: Darksiders I & II
Rating: M
Couples: Azrael/War, Strife/Caim
Warnings: AU, Yaoi, Lemon, Mpreg
Chapter: 18
Copyright: Characters & places © By Appropriate Copyright-holder, Plot & OC´s © by me and Food-for-mind
Author's Note: Sequel to Angel of War
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Several days later, the healers allowed Strife to try sitting up at least. During that time, his siblings did evade him, only visiting when they knew him to be asleep. Or at least, they tried to.
Azrael was adamant in his demands that War visit the brother that nearly died for his children. The youngest Rider was less than happy about this, but acquiesced.
As in the White City the hunt continued for the angels that would dare sell out Azrael's children to the demons, the inhabitants of the fortress saw a new side to Strife. Despite being less than happy with Azrael for spilling his secret, the White Rider in the end merely shrugged and went back to how he had been long ago. Fury came to his bedside soon after that incident of her own volition, having been the closest to him even after Eden.
At the suggestion of fresh air helping the recovery, at one point the healers allowed Strife to attend a small picnic outside the fortress.
The Gunner was placed in a reclining chair, little Gabriel at his side. After what happened, he had become her hero, even instilling in her the Nephilim lust for battle.
That's how Death found them, his first-raised teaching the second child of War how to use a bow. Azrael and Caim were watching, the scholar reclining on a blanket on the ground while the Fallen stood beside Strife with an indulgent smile. The green-clad girl was holding a small bow of flawlessly white wood, tongue sticking out as she tried to do as her uncle was telling her.
Looking at the softly talking Nephilim beside her, Death couldn't help but wonder for the umpteenth time how he could have been so blind.
It was Azrael noticing him first, eyes narrowing at the posture of the Firstborn. He said something, speaking so softly that Death could not understand the words. In turn, they were all looking at him now.
"Can I speak to you, Strife?" For once, his voice was soft and demure as he closed in.
"We'll leave you to it then." Azrael rose from his seat on the ground, putting one hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Come, before your muscles cramp up from holding a bow the entire time."
"That's how we learned it back in the day though." Strife pointed out with a small smile at Gabriel's sounds of protest. "Your mother is right, Gabriel. Go on."
"I'm staying." Caim countered softly, not budging as his brother and nieces headed back to the fortress.
His two daughters fluttered on to the fortress, but the younger angelic adult waited at such a distance he could see but not hear the three that had stayed at the little picnic.
Waiting, he watched as Strife merely looked at Death, giving no reaction to whatever the Firstborn was saying. The scholar could tell from his brother's wings however that the Fallen did not quite like whatever was being told.
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Despite Caim seemingly not really agreeing with whatever the Nephilim Firstborn had said, Strife and Death slowly started mending their relationship. Not that Strife cared very much about that right now.
"You're looking good like that." On healer's orders, he was forbidden from any strenuous activity, much to his frustration. He was smart enough to not risk their wrath however, so he amused himself by enjoying the view.
"That, we covered a good while ago, me guesses." Caim had taken a bath and was currently preening his long feathers. In response to some puppy-dog-eyes, he was doing that naked. "Or was I supposed to think that you liked me for my skill in bed?"
"Well…" The Rider smirked lightly. "More the 'lack of skill', actually: perfect to be trained." He was rewarded with a nearby book flying towards him, missing him only by virtue of Caim having aimed poorly since he was still weakened. "Aww, come on, my little Raven."
"Watch your words or the Raven flies away." The Fallen half-snarled, getting up to retrieve the book and put it back where it belonged.
"No need to get cruel, that's my job." The Rider managed to catch the hand of the other male, tugging as hard as he could on it. This forced Caim to frantically flap his wings to keep from crashing into the half-healed wounds of the male on the bad. "Join me."
"You are insatiable." The angel sighed, carefully climbing in beside the black-haired male.
"You wound me. I haven't touched you in over a week."
"Because you're too wounded to do so."