Husker hummed uncaringly as he was guided through the grand corridors of the Sin of Pride's palace. When he received the summons, he made sure to keep the letter's contents and sender a secret. He knew it would only cause everyone to worry and panic. Husker wasn't particularly concerned, though. As much as Charlie has improved her acting abilities, fathers always know their children. Husker was sure that one way or another, Lucifer would eventually figure out that Charlie was keeping secrets from him. And when he did, he'd wait for her to confess on her own. But if she didn't, his patience would run out, and he would demand answers from him.
Husker twirled his dice-head staff as he entered the Throne Room, his demeanor as casual as ever despite the imposing surroundings. The throne of the King of Hell was a sight to behold—golden with intricate motifs of countless eyes, each one seemingly watching and judging. Lucifer, the fallen angel himself, sat upon it. He had a slender figure, white skin with rosy cheeks, blond hair streaked with thin light coral highlights, and eyes with light yellow sclera and red pupils. He was shorter than his daughter, though not by much.
But what truly caught Husker's attention was the ethereal glow that surrounded Lucifer, making him appear almost holy despite the infernal realm he ruled. It was as if he was the only remnant of divinity in Hell. No wonder Alastor had been so obsessed with the king lately. There was something mesmerizing, something otherworldly about him that drew you in, whether you wanted it to or not.
As Husker stood there, appreciating Lucifer's almost angelic presence, he couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. There was a part of him that was fascinated by the fallen angel's aura, a curiosity about what made him so different from the rest of them. Yet, there was also a lingering apprehension, knowing that he was about to face the most powerful being in Hell, the one who could see through any facade and uncover any secret.
Husker's thoughts wandered briefly to Charlie, wondering how she was coping with the inevitable confrontation with her father. He hoped she was ready, that she had a plan. But for now, his focus had to remain on Lucifer. There would be time to worry about Charlie later.
The room was silent, save for the soft hum of Husker's tune and the faint echo of his footsteps on the marble floor. He felt the weight of Lucifer's gaze upon him, intense and unyielding. Husker kept his own expression neutral, masking any hint of unease. He knew that the next few moments could shape the future in ways he couldn't yet predict.
He stopped a few steps away from the throne, twirling his staff one last time before letting it rest by his side. The dice-head spun lazily, catching the light and casting small, flickering shadows on the floor. Husker took a deep breath, steadying himself for whatever was to come. Husker's eyes met Lucifer's, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. The fallen angel's gaze was unreadable, a mix of ancient wisdom and untold power. Husker felt a shiver run down his spine, but he held his ground, refusing to let any sign of weakness show. This was a test, and he was determined to pass it.
As he stood there, Husker couldn't help but marvel at the sheer force of Lucifer's presence. It was like staring into the heart of a storm, knowing that at any moment, it could unleash its fury. But there was also a strange, almost magnetic pull, a sense that here was someone who understood the balance between light and dark, order and chaos.
He understood now why so many, including Alastor, were drawn to the king. There was something undeniably compelling about him, something that went beyond his power and authority. It was an aura, an essence that set him apart from the rest of Hell's denizens.
Lucifer magically summoned a golden headband with small gold horns into his hand. Husker almost sighed when he realized whose headband it was. It was the same headband Stolas had enchanted to help Charlie create a glamour that could even fool a sin. The same headband Charlie used to transform into Melora. Husker didn't speak, knowing better than to address royalty without permission. For a moment, there was something akin to respect in Lucifer's eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.
Lucifer then asked, "So, you recognize this headband. Was it you who gave it to my daughter?"
Husker bowed respectfully, answering, "Your Highness, Charlie came to my casino and resort years back. She shared her dream about opening a hotel to help rehabilitate sinners and wanted to learn how to run it. We created a fake identity, Melora, so that her position as Crown Princess wouldn't be jeopardized."
Lucifer's eyes widened in shock at the revelation. Then, in a soft tone, he asked, "Do you truly believe in Charlie's dream?"
Husker could see the emotion in Lucifer's eyes. To find out that his daughter was still fighting for her dream, despite the ridicule she faced, made him proud of his little girl. Husker nodded, answering, "Yes, I do believe in her dream."
Lucifer sighed, using his powers to return the headband to Charlie's room. He could see that Husker wasn't using his daughter; the cat demon truly cared for her. A fond smile appeared on Lucifer's face as he said, "Melora, eh? Golden apple, it suits my apple pie."
Husker felt a wave of relief wash over him. The tension in the room eased slightly, though the weight of the moment still hung in the air. He could see the pride in Lucifer's eyes, a father's pride for his daughter who dared to dream and fight for that dream, no matter how impossible it seemed.
Lucifer stepped down from his throne, the ethereal glow surrounding him making Husker feel small and insignificant in comparison. Yet, there was a gentleness in Lucifer's gaze, a softness that spoke of his deep love for his daughter. He reached out and placed a hand on Husker's shoulder.
"Thank you," Lucifer said, his voice quiet but full of emotion. "Thank you for believing in her, for standing by her side when others did not."
Husker bowed his head, feeling humbled by Lucifer's gratitude. "It's an honor, Your Majesty. Charlie is an incredible person. I'm lucky to know her and to help her in any way I can."
Lucifer nodded, his eyes lingering on Husker for a moment longer before he turned away, lost in thought. Husker could only imagine what was going through his mind—the realization that his daughter had grown up, had taken risks and fought for what she believed in, even when it meant going against the expectations of those around her.
As Lucifer returned to his throne, Husker stood there, feeling the gravity of the moment. He had just revealed a secret that had been carefully guarded for years. He hoped that Charlie would understand why he had done it, that she would see it as an act of love and protection, rather than betrayal.
Lucifer's voice broke the silence, bringing Husker back to the present. "You may go now," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "And tell Charlie… tell her I'm proud of her."
Husker nodded, bowing one last time before he turned and left the throne room. He walked through the grand corridors of the palace, as the palace doors closed behind him, Husker took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the encounter lift from his shoulders. As he made his way back to the casino, Husker couldn't help but smile. He had just survived an audience with the King of Fucking Hell, not many could say that.
That same night, Husker entered his office and smiled at the scene before him. Angel and Melora were gossiping over drinks and snacks, Angel's laughter filling the room. It warmed his heart to see them getting along so well. After Angel had apologized to Melora, the two of them had become fast friends, and now their bond was evident.
Angel had been nervous about the apology, worrying that Melora would hold a grudge. He had approached her tentatively, his usual confidence replaced with uncertainty. "Hey, Melora," he had started, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just wanted to say I'm really sorry about how I acted. I was jealous and insecure, and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve that."
Melora had looked at him, her face as calm and unreadable as ever. For a moment, Angel had feared the worst, but then a small, understanding smile had appeared on her lips. "It's okay, Angel. I get it. We all have our moments of insecurity. I'm just glad you're honest about it."
Angel had felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Thanks, Melora. I really appreciate it. I'd like to start over, if that's okay with you."
Melora's smile had widened, and she had extended her hand. "I'd like that too."
From that moment on, their relationship had blossomed. They discovered that they had more in common than they initially thought. Both had a sharp wit and a love for sarcastic humor, which made their conversations lively and entertaining. They also shared a deep respect for Husker, and their mutual admiration for him brought them even closer.
In the office, Husker watched as Angel animatedly told a story, his hands gesturing wildly while Melora listened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Angel's laughter was infectious, and soon Melora was laughing along with him, the sound of their joy filling the room. It was a beautiful sight, one that Husker cherished deeply.
Angel's face lit up when he saw Husker. He stood up and walked over to greet him with a kiss. "Hey, babe," Angel said, his voice soft and affectionate. "Sorry, I can't stay. I've got to head to the Ace of Clubs."
Husker kissed him back, smiling. "Have a good night, Legs. See you later."
After Angel left, Husker turned his attention to Melora. He moved to the bar and began preparing two Brooklyn cocktails. The process was calming, a ritual that helped him gather his thoughts. Once the drinks were ready, he carried them over to the table and sat across from Melora.
"Melora," he began gently, sliding one of the cocktails toward her, "our little ruse is up."
Melora's eyes widened in surprise. She reached up and removed her headband, her appearance shifting back to that of Charlie. "Was it you?" she asked hesitantly. "The audience my father had today... was it with you?"
Husker nodded. "It was. But don't worry, Charlie. Your father didn't harm me. In fact, he commanded me to inform you how proud he is of you."
Charlie's tense shoulders relaxed at those words. She sighed, a mix of relief and embarrassment on her face. "I should have told him about my… well, about Melora sooner. I don't know why I was so worried. There was nothing to be afraid of."
Husker reached out and clinked his glass against Charlie's Brooklyn. "To another victory," he said, his eyes twinkling with affection and pride.
They sipped their cocktails, the smooth blend of rye whiskey, dry vermouth, and maraschino liqueur creating a rich, complex taste that felt like a celebration in itself. The tension that had hung in the air earlier was gone, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and mutual understanding.
Charlie looked at Husker, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and admiration. "I wanted to thank you, Husker. For everything. For believing in me and my dream, and for standing by me even when things got tough."
Husker smiled warmly. "Charlie, your dream is worth believing in. You're making a difference, and I'm proud to be a part of it."