"Do you think you could tone it down a little?"
"Tone what down?"
"All…Of that."
"You just gestured to all of me."

Wyr huffed a laugh and nodded as she once again checked her basket. Lucifer touched a hand to his chest, his expression of mock offence trying to distract the woman from the anxious staccato her hooves were tapping on the gravel path. This was the fourth time she'd checked inside her basket. He'd offered to fly them to the northern gates, but Wyr had gone grey and insisted they walk so she could explain what was happening today.
She had talked as they walked, and maybe it was in part to the passion he could feel rolling off her in waves, and to the sight of pearly white thighs peeping through the slits in her dress, but he'd listened, intent on not interrupting what was an in-depth look at exactly why Wyr was good at her job.
He wasn't over how she'd looked at him at the undertaker's either. Just thinking about the imp's words to her made him feel hot under the collar again. Why had he pardoned all the hellborn from extermination again? It had been a test of brute strength not to pull her against him when they'd stepped out into the daylight. Did she realise her tongue had flicked out to lick her bottom lip? The way she'd shifted and her hands had squeezed together…Was she aware of the effect her body had on a person?

He took a deep breath, slowly breathing out through his nose, trying to calm himself. It looked as though she'd been attracted to his demonic attributes. From one moment to the next, he could understand the imp's desire for the witch, but fury worked through him at the thought of an imp thinking they could touch the pagan priestess.

"Lucifer?" He startled and looked up. Wyr was smiling, eyebrows pinched together. He tried for a suave grin, and satisfaction shot through him when she looked away, a pink blush dusting her freckled cheeks.

"Tone it down?"

She nodded.

"The people coming today aren't exactly in the state of mind to meet their king." Lucifer waved a hand, understanding immediately. Wyr had explained what they were doing today. His heart had become heavy when she'd told him about the people they were giving rites to.
Three burials, one after the other, one expected, the other two…

Lucifer knew this was Hell. Knew that this was what his choices had wrought. Knew that the people who lived here, every being from an imp to his six generals, were shaped by the pain and suffering made by his choice. But still…It ached.

Guilt was a companion that never went away but sat on your shoulder and told you all the ways you'd failed.

But he could do this. 'Toning it down'. Lucifer rapped his cane against the ground, and with a shower of angelic sparks felt his muscles moving, growing, shifting, his clothes un-threading and rethreading against his skin. When the magic cleared, he held out his arms for Wyr to inspect. He watched her blink slowly, her jaw popping open. She nodded slowly and he was pleased to see the blush spreading across her cheeks. If he lifted the strands of curls from the side of her face, would her ears be tinged the same colour?
"So when I said, 'tone it down'…That wasn't quite what I had in mind." He smirked.
"Darling, you can't tone this down." Wyr's eyes snapped to his and a surprised cackle burst from her pretty lips. He'd decided that her husky cackle, full bodied and rich, might be one of his new favourite sounds.
Lucifer looked down at his new clothes. He'd decided to match Wyr, dressing himself in the shade she seemed to prefer. He thought the billowing black dress shirt had been in style. The ruffles at the neck were suitably dressy, and his cuffs were cinched with black lace ties. He'd changed the shape of his pants to breeches and ditched the boots, instead becoming golden furred goat legs. Instead of being a crown tucked into his top hat, the sign of his sovereignty was the golden apple brooch pinning his neckpiece in place and his hair was ruffled by the breeze.
"Do you…Are you, can you at least make yourself a cloak?"
"And cover this up? But you're having such a good time." Oh this was just too easy. The witch shot him a glare, nose wrinkling even as silver eyes looked away from his. The flush across her cheeks had developed and grown, her exposed collarbones turning pink. He shouldn't enjoy tormenting her like this…Didn't truly mean to…But it had been years, and he liked the way her attention made him feel.
He snapped his fingers and a matching cloak to Wyr's settled across his shoulders. It already felt a bit warm, but Wyr gave him a considering once over, and finally nodded.

Her face was still flushed though.


That was too much for one woman to handle. Was the last time this angel looked in on Earth the Regency era? Lucifer was leaning hard into 'Mr. Darcy' and it did things to her that shouldn't be happening right now. If she could sit her body down and slap some sense into it, it'd be fine, but no.
Lucifer's cloak shifted as he struck a pose for her. Wyr was once again hit with the sight of his legs, the golden fur and black shiny hooves a similar match to her own. It made her smile, seeing the way he tried to match her. It felt like a compliment. It had taken her forever to get used to not having feet anymore, even longer to get used to taking care of hooves, cutting them back, polishing them, and getting used to how her body moved on them, but Lucifer made it look easy.

Wyr was thankfully cut off from her train of thought when she heard the rumble of an engine pulling up. The northern cemetery sat atop a hill, the gravel winding path leading far enough out of Pentagram City that Sinners weren't ever bothered to approach. It meant the road stayed clear, and Esca's van was able to make it right up to the iron gates guarding the border.

The imp driving the van wasn't Esca, probably still traumatized by Lucifer's outburst, but one of his attendants. He must have picked up on the vibes because the guy was quick, polite and quiet as he unloaded the bodies. Lucifer stood at the gates, watching carefully as Wyr signed the delivery papers, and they both watched the imp scurry back into his truck and drive away.

"Uh, Wyr…I don't mean to pick apart your process…But what are we doing with the…" He didn't finish his sentence, instead falling silent as with a wave of Wyr's hand, the bodies began to rise, all covered in shrouds, and float on powdery shadows. The use of telekinesis always made her head throb in her right temple, but with how her last few days of pain were going, it felt like her eye was about to implode inside its socket.

"Open…The gates." She muttered, clutching her basket tight. Lucifer watched, eyes wide as she walked forward, and she was hyper-aware of her hooves moving over the gravel. If she stumbled now, it would be too embarrassing. He'd never believe she did this all the time. He'd think she was a faker.
Lucifer would think she wasn't cut out for this, and think she'd been screwing up for the past six hundred years when that wasn't true.

He opened the gates for her and stepped back as she raised the materialised lantern.
"Wyr? You're looking a little-"
"I'm fine. Just follow me." She grunted, feeling the sweat pool in her armpits. She was going to stink tonight.

Lucifer walked beside her, staying close to the circle of light the lantern cast. She had to admit, he'd truly listened as they'd made their way here. He hadn't nodded and made agreeing noises, but had stayed silent and listened to her like…She shook her head, trying to clear some of the pain clouding her thoughts. Telekinesis was a struggle to use, on good days it was like doing a day of heavy lifting…On a bad day, like today, when she'd stretched herself thin only a few days prior…It felt like her brain itself was carrying the weight of three dead bodies.

She led the way through the fog, letting the lantern guide them forward until a clearing emerged. Only then did she lay down the burden. She lost her footing though as she bent to set down the lantern, and instantly, hands were holding her arm tightly, righting her before she keeled over. The same soothing feeling, a cooling sensation spread from where Lucifer held her. It felt like he was searching for the pain because the sensation worked upwards and her brain, throbbing and hot finally steamed as his angelic touch inched up. Wyr wanted to lay down. To enjoy the way his touch seemed to eat away the throbbing.
"Why didn't you tell me you were in pain?" She blinked wearily, eyes focusing on Lucifer's worried gaze, one hand on her arm, the other was offering her a black handkercheif.
"I-I don't need that. I'm fine."
"Your nose is bleeding." Her tongue flicked out and dabbed at her top lip, coming away tasting of iron and copper. So it was. She took it and dabbed at her face.

"I can help, you know. With the heavy lifting. You just needed to ask." Wyr wanted to do no such thing.
"I can do this without help."
Her head was already feeling clearer than it had in days, finally soothing after over-taxing herself. Lucifer stepped back, the hurt clear on his face. Her stomach tied itself in knots. She could do it all by herself. Had done so forever…But she wanted him to see her in her element. Wanted to see just what she did, with no help, with no one to rely on. On these grounds, she was fully in control, powerful and strong. How could she just open up to him so quickly about weaknesses? She just couldn't.

Acknowledging weakness and admitting it to anyone were different things.

"You don't have to though remember? We made a deal. I'll help you, you teach me."
"That was just paperwork." Lucifer's laugh was a rueful chuckle.
"You're stubborn." Wyr rolled her eyes. Her nose had stopped bleeding and she dabbed one last time before wadding up the handkerchief and slipping it into her pocket.
"So I've been told." She straightened up and looked at the wrapped bodies. She pulled out her phone and checked the time, wincing.
"What? Everything okay?"
"We're running low on time, and I still need to dig the graves. Our first guests will be at the gates any time now." Anxiety chewed at her insides, twisting her up. She'd been distracted. Had let her thoughts and feelings get in the way of her job, and it was showing. He would never believe she had things in hand now. She was fumbling the ball.

Lucifer nodded, hands going to his hips as he eyed the area critically.

"I can do the graves. You said two for burial, where do you want them?"
They're just going over there, but I'll be-"
"Don't say fine, alright? I'm the Big Boss… I can dig some graves, Darling."

Darling. There was that word again… She could get used to hearing that endearment from him. That was a dangerous thought.
By the time Wyr had turned to her basket and back, Lucifer stood, dusting his hands together with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Two plots had appeared in the clearing, two mounds of earth piled off to the edge of where the fog sat surrounding them. He was the king of Pride for a reason, because his smug, boastful grin was about as wide as it could get. Wyr had to tell herself to close her mouth, the way her jaw had popped open seemed to make him all the more smug. She should have known…Angelic magic, of course Lucifer could just have things done with the click of his fingers. The sight of the two graves, and Lucifer's grin, made Wyr want to smile too.


Lucifer watched Wyr consoling the second family of imps as they stood over the deceased in their burial shroud. They'd requested a red silk shroud embroidered in black, and Lucifer wondered how Wyr had come across the materials needed for such a thing. It wasn't as though silk was harvestable in Pentagram City, and Wyr wasn't able to leave. Wyr was bound inside the city and would have been ever since he'd made the deal with Heaven.
The thought gave him pause as he stood back from the group, standing at the edge of the fog, an intruder on the family's sorrow for their missing loved one. He could hear Wyr's quiet murmurs of the 'next life' and it made him feel sick. He still didn't understand how she could believe in a 'next life', a life after Hell, because Hell was the after. Heaven and Hell were the after for everyone on Earth, but the woman dressed in black, holding a bereaved mother close to her side, insisted otherwise.
Where and when had Wyr come from for her to believe in other lives outside Earth, Heaven and Hell? It made him question just how Lilith had come across the goat-legged Sinner, and how he'd never come to hear about her.

Lucifer looked up from his hands, twisted together and held tight against the flood of unfamiliar emotions welling up inside him. The first burial had been a tiny affair, with only the friend of the deceased coming to pay their last respects. The old hellhound had pulled out a bottle of moonshine and bade them all to drink a glass. He could still taste the astringent alcohol on his tongue. Wyr had downed her shot and it had left her with rosy cheeks and a flushed chest. The guest had been a melancholic merry; sad to say goodbye, but he regaled Wyr with old stories of his best friend. Wyr had laughed at all the right times, had rested a careful hand on the hellhound's shoulder at the right moments, and had become someone completely new to him.
He would have worried the moonshine had left her incapacitated because the flush hadn't left her as they'd walked the hound back out of the graveyard, but when the second group showed up, Wyr had stood tall, pushed her shoulders back, and lifted her lantern higher.

"Sam? We're ready now."

Lucifer startled, looking up at Wyr, arm still wrapped around the sobbing imp. She gestured to the grave site and Lucifer swallowed back the barbs in his throat. He shouldn't have given that to her as an alias. Shouldn't have even thought about that name, but he had. Maybe because she'd told him Wyr wasn't her real name…Maybe it was his way of sharing a truth of his own with her…Even if he didn't explain. Still, hearing that name from her husky throat sent his mind tail spinning.
Lucifer grabbed the shovel Wyr had left with him and started forward. She'd insisted he not draw any attention to himself, and he'd made her a promise. He didn't look into the grave, emotion clogging his throat, and an overwhelming terror that if he looked, he wouldn't see the shroud of a small imp child, but the blond hair and pink dimpled cheeks of his own child.
The extermination hung over his head, looming closer and closer as he tried to get in touch with Heaven. If he couldn't help Charlie, if she fought back, would she end up in a grave like this? With Wyr standing over her, holding him close as another person sifted dirt over his daughter?

"Sam?"

He started again and nodded at Wyr, refusing to look at her worried face. He picked up a shovel full of dirt and stood waiting for her signal. Wyr let go of the imp, who turned to her wife and they held each other tight, holding each other up under the weight of something no parent should have had to bare. Wyr lit a candle from her lantern, and the quiet stillness of the flame, after it sparked into life, left the clearing feeling full of presence. Wyr began to speak, her voice full-bodied and echoing thrice over, warm as sunshine used to be.

"We know of a place beyond this, where the good we leave unfinished, the stories we leave untold, and the hopes unfulfilled are continued. We never wish for the old to linger, while the young take the road that goes ever on, yet there are dark times filled with darker days and we must hold on while they go. In sorrow do they leave us, but not bound by such devastating ties. In memory we hold them, in memory may they guide those they leave behind. The roads we travel go onwards, under stone and over mountain and all the while we will carry them with us, not gone, not forgotten, but held close and in comfort."

His heart drummed in his chest, palms slick as he held the shovel aloft over the gaping wound in the earth. He couldn't look down. He refused to look down because then Wyr's deep tones and echoing phrases would undo him. Lucifer couldn't look at the imps gathered around them, could barely tune out the wailing, but he felt it. A bone-deep ache that reached his soul. How could she go through this every day? Every year? How had Wyr survived hundreds of years of this? He'd gotten through one and now there was this.

"So Goodnight, dearest Aaron, we bid you rest with your forefathers and bid the stars farewell."

He felt her eyes glance over him, and she stepped back from the yawning pit. The pitch of the wail increased and Lucifer tossed the dirt over the pit, the dust fading into the darkness of the hole. His breath caught in his throat and not for the first time was he grateful for the hood covering the stinging tears.


"Lucifer? Are you alright?"

Wyr set down her lantern, shaking out the ache in her fingers as she looked at Lucifer's slumped form, leaning against the stone wall. He still had his hood up, despite the warmth of the late afternoon. He didn't respond. That had been a trial by fire for him. When the hell hound had shown up to pay respect to his old boss, Wyr had known they would breeze through. But these last rites…It wasn't something just anyone could handle.

She walked closer and leaned back against the wall, her arm brushing against him as she clasped her hands together. He seemed to tense like he was waiting for something, but when she didn't move, he relaxed.
What could she say? What was he thinking? Did he wonder why the small imp child had passed? Did he wonder about the things she said? Or had his mind turned inwards? Did he think about his daughter? His wife? Wyr could have cursed herself. She'd not remembered Charlie and the way Lucifer had reacted to seeing her disappear. She'd known there was something dark he held onto, and yet she'd made him sit through what had probably been terrifying to think about.
Wyr didn't have the right words to say. She comforted the living about the dead, talked them through the afterlife…But this felt out of her league.

"You do this every day?" Lucifer's voice was far away, wet and husky in a way Wyr understood immediately. She tried to hold herself still, and instead of staring at him, looked up to the sky. She wondered if Lucifer remembered stargazing with her. The eternal blue and glowing lights felt so long ago…Was she even remembering the image right?
"Not every day." She conceded.
"But most days?"
"Most days…I am alone. Hellborn can be quick to forget the dead…But I do have days like this." She felt Lucifer shake beside her and ached to reach out to him, to remind him that he was not alone and that Charlie was very much not in that filled-in grave. But it wasn't her place. She was not his person.
"How do you deal with it?"
She shrugged, unsure of how to answer without sounding unfeeling.
"I…I have done this for a very long time. My whole afterlife in fact and before I died…I put most of my sisters to rest. Since the beginning, I've never thought of death as the end, but as another bridge to cross to see those we love. One day, everyone will cross the bridge, and we'll see the ones we missed."

They sat quietly for a time until Lucifer reached up and pulled back the hood. Wyr glanced his way and pressed her lips together. His eyes were rimmed in red, gaze vacant. His hair had curled at the ends, sweat undoing his slicked-back look. Wyr was reminded of the statues of fallen angels the churches on earth had, where the morning star lay at the bottom of hell, devastation written into his very being.

Lucifer looked broken.

His voice cracked when he finally spoke again, a quiet admission that made her hands curl into fists and press tightly against her stomach.
"I…I imagined Charlie in that grave. Her eyes closed, her smile gone…My little girl, my little slice of heaven just gone." Just hearing that term…His little slice of Heaven…Wyr had never considered having children, hadn't ever considered marrying a man in her village. It had never been her dream, and yet…The concern she felt for Lucifer at that moment felt like it could drag her down a deep well. But she would never be able to fathom that sort of fear, that pain.

"Lucifer…" He shook his head, claws going to his hair, further agitating the curls.
"If I can't get Heaven to consent to a meeting, and Adam comes down and sees her hotel, he's vindictive Wyr…and he'd do anything to get back at me…Her sinners, those demons will be a target…And if they're a target, she'll fight for them." The rest of the sentence was left unsaid, but Wyr could fill in the gap.

She won't survive a fight against the exterminators.

The news rocked through Wyr, leaving her breathless. Lucifer was trying to contact Heaven, Charlie was trying to push back the extermination that had been moved up… She was serious about this hotel and Alastor was involved for a reason beyond her understanding. She didn't know what to do with the new information. So the plan to redeem souls wasn't just an ideal, they were really working towards that. Wyr had been so standoffish because really, who would believe people like her could be redeemed? And Hell was full of people worse than her.
Despite all of that, she needed to look at the man next to her. There was very little Wyr could do in the face of Heaven…But she knew how to handle grief and fear. She reached out and pulled one of Lucifer's hands away from his hair, wrapping her fingers through his and holding it tightly to her stomach. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips curled into a tight grimace like he was using all his strength to hold something guttural back.

"Aon shoilleir, na cruinnich trioblaid."
His hand was cold in hers, and she tried to will warmth through her hands to his. His head drooped.
"I don't speak Gaelic." His mouth twitched like it was struggling to lift into a smile.
"Don't borrow trouble. Charlie is still here. You are still here... You're forgetting that if the exterminators decide to come for the hotel, Charlie has the leader of a rebellion as a father."

Lucifer lifted his head, and when he opened his eyes, their gazes met. He looked confused and Wyr continued.
"You said she would fight for the Sinners under her protection? I know exactly which parent she got that from. Maybe the angel that started a rebellion because he wanted to give us the right to choose? The angel that led armies in battle?"
"I fell though." Wyr nodded, tightening her grip on his hand.
"But you still fought. And you kept Lilith safe, didn't you? Isn't that what you're worried about? Keeping Charlie safe?"
"I..Well, yeah, but Heaven-"
"Fuck Heaven." Wyr braced herself, feeling the moonshine making her tongue looser than she would have preferred. She needed to be careful. "Look, Charlie, is the most precious thing in this whole universe right?" Lucifer nodded, and Wyr nodded back encouragingly. "Okay! So, what would you do to protect her?"
"Anything." Wyr nodded again.
"And you are the strongest being in existence down here. Nothing will happen to Charlie. And once you get through to Heaven, this will all be negated."

She didn't want to, but Wyr let go of his hand, reaching into the basket she'd dropped at her feet and pulled out some crumpled tissues. She handed him one and waited for him to clean up.
"Heaven won't listen. They never listened to me, they're ignoring me now. I'm failing her already. Charlie needs her mother-I need…Charlie would have been better off if I had been the one to leave." What does one say to that? What could Wyr say to that? Desperately she wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to be able to tell him she needed him. That Charlie needed him. Lilith was important to the status quo, but Lucifer was irreplaceable. To her. Lucifer's pain went so deep, that she didn't know just how far to reach out that hand. But when she was stuck, she was like a dog with a bone for problems.

Wyr stood stretching her arms up into the air and leaning from side to side. She may not be able to tell him the depths of her soul, might not be able to convince him how wrong he was about not being needed, but getting through to Heaven? Oh, she could work with that. If you squinted, a flock of angels was just like a coven…And what did her coven mates obsess over besides magic? Each other's family. (It's why Wyr had always been a disappointment.)

"Have any of your family met Charlie?" She turned and Lucifer was looking at her strangely, before gesturing to himself.
"Have you forgotten who I am? My family hates me." She rolled her eyes.
"Hate is a strong word, but that's not my point. Have any of your brothers seen Charlie?" He shook his head.
"Not like I'm invited to the family barbeques you know."

She wanted to shake him. How could he not be getting this? Not for the first time did she wonder how this man had survived so long as the King of Hell.
"Try sending photos of Charlie to your brothers."
"Photos? To my brothers?"
"Yes! You think she's the apple of your eye right? She's the most precious thing in Hell? Well…Show your brothers that. Prove how special she is. Send baby photos, and send any home videos you have. Drawings she drew, songs she sang, literally anything. When they know their niece, they'll consent to a meeting."
"I don't know about that. Lilith was very…Not interested in my family" he chuckled awkwardly.
Wyr couldn't say much to that. It wasn't her place to talk about his wife. She flopped back against the wall. She thought through her next words, plucking them from the ether like each one was worth millions.
"Lilith isn't here, Lucifer. Do you want to avoid seeing those graves filled with bodies you know? You need to throw everything against the wall, and see what sticks."

They both stood quietly for some time, watching as the afternoon light began to fade, and the sky turned darker and darker. There was still one last body needing to be sent off, and Wyr was beginning to feel a bone-deep exhaustion from the day. She missed their time on earth. So intensely that it made her heart ache for a few throbbing moments. When she'd been human, their time together had felt so simple…But now, things were so complicated. This side of Lucifer, emotional and vulnerable was so new to her…She wasn't sure she would trade it though, for what had been before. He'd always been beautiful, strong and unrebukable. A being filled with power she'd been unable to deny. His vulnerability only seemed to strengthen those traits she admired so much in him.
Wyr took a shaky breath, reeling back from the depth of emotions that stole over her. It wasn't the time, and it wasn't the place, certainly not the man she should feel these things with.

Your little crush is pathetic. It has been for decades.

Alastor had had her pegged from day one, hadn't he? He'd picked up on something she'd been trying to bury, something she couldn't give a name to. If she did, it could swallow her whole.
Instead, Wyr picked up her basket and twisted side to side, stretching one last time.
"We still have that one last job. If you'd like, you can go…I've got to take the body to the lake and send it off. There won't be anyone coming."

For one desperate moment, Wyr hoped Lucifer would bolster. He would rally and insist he could stay for the last one.

"Are you sure? You, you don't need my help?"

The words, like their time on the street, felt like they were deeper than they were supposed to be. Wyr had to weigh up her answer before she gave it.
"Your company is appreciated, but I've done plenty of sailings before. It's completely normal to need some time alone after today."

He didn't rally.

Lucifer left in a flutter of wings that sent a warm breeze scented of smoke and caramel wafting over Wyr. The scent burrowed deep inside her, sending an ache of want through to her soul as she turned back to the silent gates of the cemetery. She couldn't be upset, couldn't be angry. The spirits had done nothing to deserve her ire, and they deserved her full compassion.
But as she walked back inside, finding the last body and using magic to take it to the silent lake, her mind didn't linger on her task. At the ancient dock where a small boat waited on calm waters, she thought about Lucifer's confession, his insistence that he was failing. His red-rimmed eyes and faraway look.

When she set the body in the hull of the boat and pushed it out into the waters, she thought about the feel of his hands in hers.

When she dipped an arrow into the flame of her lantern, and nocked it in her bow, the muscles in her arms ached.

When she released the arrow, it soared through the air, straight and true until it landed in the boat. It only took minutes before the flames grew, engulfing the vessel and body within.

As Wyr stood watch, hands gripping each other as she sent out a silent prayer for the dead, she slipped one more out into the ether.

Please, show him his own strength