River

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Branch

After the end, the worlds are still there, and both angels and demons have to figure out what to do with themselves. Politics, cosmology, and manga spoilers throughout. Note: stories and sections from Mad Hatter's point of view use the indeterminate pronouns se/hir, in accordance with my reading of this character. If that drags fingernails over the chalkboard of your soul, go read someone else.

Ink Burns

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

This is a work of fanfiction, produced according to the principles of transformative fair use as put forward in US copyright law, and abiding by the custom and practice of fan-produced work in Japan, where the source texts were created. No author is in any way affiliated with any of the creators of the source texts, nor with the companies who distribute their products, nor any other rights holder, and these stories were not authorized by either the creators or the producers. Ink Burns is a fan site and the material here is freely provided for the enjoyment of fellow fan-community members; there is no commercial infringement.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 US license at the Ink Burns fanfiction archive (http://www.branchandroot.net/archive/).

"Appendix" published on 2004-11-20 17:43:04.

"The Name" published on 2004-11-21 16:49:48.

"Mercurial" published on 2004-11-22 16:52:11.

"The Mind is its Own Place - Part One" published on 2004-11-29 17:06:56.

"The Mind is its Own Place - Part Two" published on 2004-12-15 17:25:20.

"River - Chapter One" published on 2004-12-19 17:32:34.

"Homecoming" published on 2008-05-01 19:12:31.

"Watermark" published on 2009-05-19 16:19:48.

Attributions can be made by author's name and a link to the archive.

This ebook edition was published on September 6, 2019 by the Ink Burns fanfiction archive.

Cover illustration is "The Tree of Life" by Louis Comfort Tiffany, public domain (http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tifftree.JPG).

Cover design by Branch.

Appendix

This is the running tally of side information for River—what angels I added, etymology of names, inspiration from Revelations, links to sources, etc.

My contributions to the angelic cast

My main source for these names and their associations is Angelology. The site is almost totally undocumented, but a primary source appears to be Gustav Davidson's A Dictionary of Angels. From what I can tell it's a bastard combination of solid mainstream biblical interpretation and the kind of iconic mysticism that gives serious Christian theologians hives. It does, however, function as a useful practical compendium of the associations that have grown up around angels over the past couple thousand years, and is no more problematic than any attempted synthesis of such variable and wide ranging materials must be.

Refugees

Arariel: has power over the waters of Earth, latterly the curer of stupidity. Dominion.

Armaita: truth and wisdom. Persian Archangel.

Charoum: secrets and silence.

Harahel: knowledge.

Isda: nourishment.

Maion: self-discipline and hard work.

Nisroc: freedom, associated with the eagle. Principality.

Tabris: free will and choice.

Zachriel: memory.

Anima Mundi

Bodiel and Oriphiel: Thrones. Oriphiel sometimes cited as head of that order rather than Zaphkiel (or a handful of others). Though Zaphkiel's assistant, in the manga, is not named, I have given the name Bodiel to that character.

Jael: Guardian of the Ark of the Covenant in the aspect of mercy. Cherubim.

Rampel: associated with mountains.

Other

Rehel: battles enemies of religion

Hebrew Terms

Belial: "Belial, from a Hebrew word that was formed from the combination of two other Hebrew words, pronounced bel-ee, meaning failure, and yaw-al, meaning to be valuable, was a term of scorn meaning to waste one's worth. The word is used in the Old Testament (see The Older Testament) to describe people who were rebellious and lawless. In the New Testament, it's used only once, for Satan." Source

Ya'al (yaw-al) is also to yeild (make a beginning, determined, pleasing) and to be slack (doting, foolish). This appears to be the same root, futher back, as to ascend (to be valuable, useful, good). Belial could, then, also be read as the one who will not yeild—worthless only when the greatest worth lies in yeilding (to god). Source

***
The name of the new realm, ie the borderlands and growing merged area: Abe. Hebrew for fruit or green plant or growing thing. 'eb, Strong number 3. Source

I named it for association with the fruit of the tree of life that will, according to Revelations, grow in New Jerusalem after the end of the world. Revelations 22:1-2 NIV "Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations."

General notes and sources

I make the supposition that Uriel is, or was, the Great One of Dominions, as that is the only order unaccounted for and his is the only title not given.

Next Access is a good site for information on characters, heirarchies and maps, though based on only about two thirds of the manga.

To check passages in several different translations of the Bible, Bible Gateway can't be beat.

The Name

Lucifer wakes up. Drama, I-3

"Monster... created to be... mine now..."

The fog around his senses was thinning. He was waking. The soft words that he caught in bits and pieces told him this was unlikely to be enjoyable. When he finally opened his eyes he could only reflect on the accuracy of his instincts, because he recognized the person leaning against the glass above him.

"Ah. Awake at last, Lucifer?"

Lucifer? Yes. That was his name, wasn't it? But it matched badly with what he felt, now.

He sorted, a bit slowly, through his memories. His body had died. He had felt it. Felt it twice. And now... He flexed his fingers, ignoring the pain. This was Kira Sakuya's body; it didn't respond as his own should have, power didn't run through it quite the right way.

But he was not Kira. He was Lucifer. He remembered. Had his spirit really clung so hard to this flesh that Rociel had been able to revive him from what, to all his recollections, should have been a very, finally, thorough death?

"Confused, Lord of Hell?" Rociel taunted, lightly. "I'm not surprised; you always were. And being mortal for so long couldn't have helped."

He wondered, in a detached sort or way, why Rociel was lounging against such a flimsy barrier and baiting him. Even injured, he could do a good deal of damage, and Rociel had never liked being damaged.

He got his answer when Rociel dangled a clear red stone in front of the glass separating them. A sharp edge of shock sliced off his breath, and he closed his eyes, letting Rociel's bright laugh wash over him.

He felt nothing.

No call, no nagging pull from the stone. It had no connection to him.

Impulses raced through him, and he stifled them all. Satisfying as it might be to rip off Rociel's wings, Rociel stood a good chance of killing him as the price of the pleasure. And that left out of consideration whatever poor fools Rociel had bound to himself, here. Lucifer could wait for his opportunity.

Coolness settled into his thoughts, soothing, calming him. Familiar, though it had been far too long since he'd felt it. Felt like himself. Comforting. Chill. Familiar.

Alien.

He frowned behind a smooth face, as Rociel's voice picked up again above him. His true self couldn't be alien. It was all the centuries without his memory that should feel that way. Although, actually... Nanatsusaya had carried his chill and his anger just as easily as his original form ever had. His wish to protect and possess Alexiel had been nothing particularly new, either, he'd felt it since the second time he came to her in Eden, from the moment she'd taken his hand.

Why should he feel strange to himself, now, then?

Never mind. Introspection could wait. For now, he needed to play along with Rociel and wait for his chance. This time, Alexiel's twin would die.

"...and in Etenamenki I will have the body I should have had and we'll be one again..."

Rociel's rambling caught his ear again. Etenamenki?

Fire rose in his soul, burning cold. A chance. Oh, yes. A real chance at his real enemy. If anyone would be allowed into the Presence it would be Rociel, and Rociel liked to keep his toys close. Lucifer would definitely play along. He started listening again.

He followed everything, occasionally even feeling a spark of appreciation for Rociel's unapologetic and gleeful cruelty. It was when Rociel got to the part about killing Setsuna that he felt a pang.

And then he was annoyed at himself.

Rociel had a point, after all. Setsuna had to die for Alexiel to awaken as herself again, since it had become obvious that Setsuna had more than enough determination to hold his own personality even while using her power. And only Alexiel's memory could break the doors of Etenamenki. It wasn't pleasant but it was necessary. Setsuna was mortal, he had to die some time...

His heart twisted sharply.

Lucifer breathed carefully for a few moments. He would deal with that later. For now, was there anything he would have to maneuver around, in Rociel's plans?

He would, he supposed, have to be careful that his demons didn't notice him playing lapdog for the Inorganic Angel, or there would be Hell to pay when it was all over. Quite literally. Fortunately, they almost never managed to infiltrate Heaven, except for Belial, and he could trust Belial to see the difference between her lord bound and her lord biding his time. More than that, he could trust her not to interfere too much against his wishes.

He paused in his thoughts. Trust? Trust Belial?

Perhaps, he pondered dispassionately, the revival had gone wrong and he had lost his mind.

And yet... wasn't it true? Certainly, Belial had proven willing to betray anyone and anything. Except him. Certainly he was repulsed by her flaunting, mocking seductions that ended in ruin and death. But what, precisely, disgusted him about that? Was it only her interest in him, personally?

Or her dependence on him?

Katou had made him angry that way, too.

He stilled all his thoughts, trying to call them back from wandering. Later. He would deal with these things later. When he didn't have one of the two most powerful angels in all the planes breathing down his neck, and he didn't have the death of his ultimate enemy to plan. In the meantime, he would simply have to trust his own strongest goals and deepest responses.

He would do what was necessary.

End

Mercurial

Mad Hatter has a few difficulties coping with how people have changed, post-canon. Drama With UST, I-3

"Where do we go now?" Belial asked hir lord, as they watched Lucifer's final contract partner return to his proper plane.

"Back," Lucifer said, laconically.

Belial had to stifle a bit of surprise at the thin quirk to Lucifer's lips. It was a more sardonic and less bitter expression than se had been used to seeing on the Lord of Hell's face. Perhaps his time sharing Alexiel's cycle of reincarnation really had changed him.

"Back... to Hell?" se speculated. "Or to Heaven?"

Lucifer arched a brow and didn't answer. Belial took back hir thought about having changed. Se knelt with studied and only faintly mocking grace at hir lord's feet, holding hir hat over hir heart.

"Your wishes command one, lord." That, at least, was entirely sincere.

Lucifer's eyes rested on hir for a heartbeat longer than Belial expected. "Come, then."

Belial rose and followed, pleased that familiarity had returned.

Belial understood Lucifer's refusal to name their destination within a very short while. The heavens and the hells were assimilating each other. The results were interesting. On the one hand, it sent the most powerful denizens of every plane into what could only be described as a tizzy, insisting that it couldn't be happening, or shouldn't be happening, and trying to find some way to stop it. On the other hand, a good many of the lowlier residents didn't seem to notice much difference.

The contrast amused Belial.

"Well, really, what did you think was going to happen when we jammed the planes together?" se interjected, when Astaroth paused for breath.

"We were expecting to take over Heaven," he snapped. "And might have succeeded if everyone had actually been attending to business."

Belial brushed aside his searing glare with a deprecating smile. "Indeed. Very few were attending to the real business at hand. One sympathizes with your frustration; such disloyalty is distressing."

Astaroth opened his mouth, and closed it again as Belial's glance sharpened. Se lowered hir lashes, satisfied, and moved away across the hall currently serving as the court of the Lord of Hell. It was not precisely crowded; too many of the ranking demons had died in the most recent round of war for that. Barbelo, Asmodeus, Mammon, all gone, and most of their people with them. Even so, Belial didn't really think demons were meant to congregate in anything as cooperative as a court. Which was, come to think of it, probably why Lucifer had never much bothered with the trappings of one, and still wasn't now. Belial didn't think he was even present today.

Everyone would probably calm down a bit when they managed to sort out separate domains again. Having all the higher demons brushing shoulders with each other like this made them... tetchy. Belial no less than any of the others, se admitted privately. Normally, se wouldn't make an issue of disloyalty to their lord. It was pointless, considering that they were all demons and demons were, one and all, selfish and opportunistic creatures.

Speaking of opportunity, Belial felt eyes on hir as se moved out onto one of the balconies. Delightful. Se could use a diversion. Se lounged against the stone rail, letting hir head fall back as se stretched. Apparent vulnerability was titillating to so many fools. Hir lips curved, harshly.

"This eternal guilt of yours is getting boring, little butterfly," a low, familiar voice said from the shadows by the wall.

Belial recoiled upright with a gasp. "My lord," se murmured, and then blinked as the actual words registered. "Guilt? One is a demon," se reiterated hir recent train of thought. "We do what will benefit or amuse us; we use the innocent and the tarnished alike; where is the place of guilt in that?"

A few quick strides brought Lucifer close enough to hold Belial with a hand against hir back and another curved around hir jaw. Belial bit back another gasp wondering, on a surge of sharpened senses, whether Lucifer had finally decided to kill hir. He had been volatile since his return, and Belial had been expecting, for centuries, that he would eventually cease to tolerate hir devotion and attention. Would it be now? Belial tensed but did not move.

"It has no place," Lucifer agreed, coolly, "which hasn't stopped you from heaping contempt on yourself. Haven't you seen past the lies of our Creator yet?"

Now Belial was confused, and the confusion was only making hir more tense. "My lord?" se asked, a bit tightly.

Belial thought se heard a sigh as Lucifer gathered hir close, but was far too shocked to be sure. He couldn't... not now...

"Why am I always surrounded by idiots?" he asked, rather caustically.

"What...?" Belial choked, now completely disoriented.

"Hush, foolish butterfly," Lucifer told hir.

The hand stroking hir hair, as much as the command, silenced Belial. Se didn't understand what was happening at all.

"You are not fit to carry the weight of Pride," hir lord said, evenly. "You have none. Not really."

Belial veered back to thoughts of imminent death, and searched the gray eyes that held hir own; not that se really thought the moment of decision would show there. It never had before. Lucifer shook his head and placed a light kiss on hir brow.

"Consider it," he directed, and left Belial staring after him in unaccustomed bewilderment.

Belial spent a few days wandering the nearest angelic cities, and incited a few fights just to settle hir nerves. Se returned to court in a better mood, reappearing in a swirl of extravagance, scattering barbed illusions around hir like drops of water splashed from a fountain, ready for the unwary to slip on. Se was in a mood to remind the court of hir power and danger.

The reminder seemed effective, as even Beelzebub kept a prudent distance after taking in Belial's tiny smile and chill eyes. Astaroth was not so fortunate, and stalked out in a high temper after he embraced an illusion of his sister-self only to see it turn to one of Belial. He dismembered the wisp quite thoroughly, and would likely have attempted the same on the actual Belial he discovered standing in front of him, smirking, as the illusion dissipated, if they hadn't both known exactly who would win.

Belial had retired to the window with the best view, feeling satisfied, when black feathered wings swept around hir, blocking any view at all.

Four black wings.

Belial turned, trying not to shiver at the whispering touch of feathers and magic, and looked up at hir lord, barely a breath away. His wings surrounded hir in his power, a feather's edge from destruction or... what? Lucifer's face was unreadable.

"I would say to entertain yourself as you like, if pain and humiliation truly amuse you," he said. "But your deception has gotten thin."

Belial raised hir brows. "You are the only one who was never deceived, lord," se pointed out. "One cannot see that this has changed."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed, and Belial stiffened a little. Had one of the other demons turned their lord's opinion against hir? Well, se had to amend, turned him against hir in more than the usual way. Was that the reason for the cage of his wings?

"A pose of self-honesty makes a brittle mask." His voice was cold, colder than it had been since he returned to them, as cold as it had been the very first time they spoke. The tone made Belial relax, even as se puzzled at the words. Hir effort wasn't much use, as Lucifer's fingers, brushing back hir disheveled hair, brushed away all hir thoughts. Belial was starting to wonder whether Lucifer was simply amusing himself by toying with hir. He hadn't used to indulge much in that sort of thing, but...

Grasping for the thread of this strange conversation, Belial murmured, "At the risk of repeating the obvious, one is a demon. Whether we delight in the pain and humiliation of others or are merely indifferent to it, we all bring it."

"I didn't speak of others' pain," Lucifer told hir, and cupped Belial's cheek, brushing his thumb over the teardrop under hir eye.

A thin sound of denial forced its way out of Belial's throat, even as se leaned into the touch, parting hir lips. He couldn't. He couldn't. Please, no, not this one. Belial believed in the efficacy of prayer even less than se had before the third war, but se was desperate enough to entreat the memory of their progenitor, dead as Adam Kadmon was, not to let Lucifer desire hir. It would be glorious. It would be the end of Belial's existence, the end of the only truth se had ever found.

Lucifer sighed, looking faintly exasperated. "A complete and utter fool," he stated. "I seem to be cursed with them."

The hold of his wings tightened for a moment before unfolding from around hir. Belial tried to decide, as se watched Lucifer walk away, and felt the many eyes on hir, whether se was comforted or terrified by hir lord's parting words.

Need drove, and Belial didn't think se could face much more of trying to keep the rest of the court guessing whether Lucifer was favoring or punishing hir. Especially when se hadn't the faintest idea which it might be. Thus, se was the first of the Satans to risk imposing hir will on the borderlands to establish a domain of hir own. Belial was actually rather proud of the effort. If the definition held, then the domain should expand as the assimilation of planes continued.

Unfortunately, unless se wished to deny hir allegiance to Lucifer, se could not avoid an explicit summons into his presence. Since such a denial was unthinkable, Belial crushed the messenger's heart to relieve hir stress a bit, and prepared to attend on hir lord. Drawing on the jester's mask helped calm hir, at least.

Lucifer had called hir to the gardens, which were inexplicably developing just inside the border. No one Belial knew of, including Lucifer, had had anything to do with creating them. That was happening more and more frequently, of late, on both sides of the border, and Belial occupied hir mind with speculation on whether the angels had any more idea of what was going on than the demons did. It worked up until se found Lucifer.

He was sitting on the grass, propped up against a set of steps that didn't seem to lead anywhere, reading. Belial blinked, trying to remember if se had ever seen the Lord of Hell looking so... relaxed. Se was fairly sure not.

"There you are," Lucifer said, closing the book. "Come here." He held out a hand.

Belial approached, stopping beside him the usual foot or so away—as close as se could come without being forced back. Or so it used to be. The hand remained outstretched, and Lucifer's eyes glinted. Rather worn out from trying to guess what he meant to do, Belial placed hir hand in his with only a brief hesitation. Se was not entirely surprised when Lucifer pulled hir down to his side, but this time he made no move to draw hir closer.

Nor did he let hir go.

"My patience has not grown that much," he informed hir, softly. "It's time to choose, now."

The entire thing would be a great deal easier, Belial reflected, if se had any idea what the choices involved were. Several likely possibilities did present themselves, though. One was that Lucifer had, in fact, come to desire Belial, and wished to know whether Belial would give hirself willingly or not. Another was that he had finally become sufficiently annoyed or disgusted with Belial that he wished to destroy hir, or, possibly, merely torment hir, and was asking whether se would submit or resist.

The complete lack of clues as to which might be true only added to the inherent stress of either option. When Belial considered the fact that these possibilities were not even mutually exclusive, and that both might be true, the tension rose enough to leave hir shaking.

None of that, however, affected hir decision in the least.

Belial lowered hir head and leaned against Lucifer's chest, waiting.

Lucifer's free hand came to rest on Belial's back, touching off new tremors. "Is it that difficult, butterfly?" he asked.

"Your wishes command one," Belial whispered. "If your intent is to destroy, though, may one beg the favor of a swifter end?"

The hand moved to Belial's shoulder and shook hir slightly. "I never thought I would actually meet anyone who was more of an idiot than Setsuna," Lucifer remarked against Belial's hair. "You have a better mind than that; you know the difference between ruthlessness and cruelty."

Belial stopped breathing. If it was not destruction, then...

A silent chuckle rolling through Lucifer's chest startled hir into looking up. Lucifer's expression was ironic.

"And did you really think I had fallen victim to your rather overdramatic wiles?" he added.

Belial's admittedly excellent mind went entirely blank. "Then what...?"

"One of the things my idiot managed," Lucifer noted, calmly, "was to point out to me a more interesting and effective method of rebellion."

Connections cascaded through Belial's thoughts. Se had understood, long ago, what drove Lucifer's frozen rage. He hated the Creator's plans, and yet had been mouse-trapped into playing a part in them. How to rebel, when one's assigned role was to do so? Taking part in the slaying of God surely qualified, but Belial knew better than to think that alone would appease hir lord's long, long fury. A better method? The Messiah's method? The Messiah stood outside the balance of Heaven and Hell, refused to give any credence to the rules of those realms: the rule of God's order versus the chaos of solely individual desires. Except for Belial, of course, whose desire was not purely for hirself, who cared also for the wishes of another...

Cared also for another...

The single greatest sin, for any angel...

A better rebellion...

Cared.

Belial stared up for a long moment, finally recognizing the strangeness in Lucifer's eyes as cool affection. And then se started to laugh. Laughed until se had to lean against Lucifer or fall. Laughed until se cried, wracking sobs that tore the air from hir lungs. Lucifer merely held hir until se quieted. It took a while.

"I was right the first time," Belial murmured against his shoulder. "It did change you." Se had known Lucifer loved Alexiel; even the blind couldn't help seeing that. Se had long suspected that it was the transgressive nature of his desire for the Organic Angel that had been the entering wedge for genuine care whether he recognized it or not. Se had never, for the tiniest instant, suspected he might come to expand that care to anyone else, no matter what the rationale or advantage. Why?

Lucifer lifted Belial's face with two fingers under hir chin. "You're a mess," he told hir, smiling faintly. He mopped Belial's face with a corner of his cloak, scrubbing away the remains of hir mask. "There. A little closer to truth."

Belial tried to look away. Lucifer didn't let go.

"I can't... I'm not..." Belial broke off. The mirror that had shown hir worthlessness and degradation with such merciless, enchanting clarity was warping, turning, angling in another direction. Wasn't it Belial who was supposed to play tricks like that? Se bit hir lip sharply.

"Stop that," Lucifer ordered, sounding a bit exasperated, and leaned forward.

His lips brushed over Belial's, softly.

The shock of it drove an unvoiced cry from hir, and Lucifer answered with a quiet laugh, tumbling hir down to the grass. Belial gazed up as he leaned over hir, shaking harder than before, frightened by the very possibility that he might touch hir. Se couldn't accept this, couldn't be worth the frosted shadow of gentleness in hir lord's eyes. He combed hir hair back with his fingers, smoothing it.

"Not yet, foolish butterfly," he said, and pressed a kiss to Belial's brow. "Choose your new truth, Belial. Then we'll talk."

Belial answered with the only surety left to hir.

"Your wishes command one."

Belial retreated to hir domain again, and spent a rather long time trying to stave off panic. The effort was only intermittently successful. This did not, when Belial was calm, particularly surprise hir. Lucifer had done precisely what would most unsettle, discomfit, and generally unbalance hir. He had changed, while he was away, but he showed no more mercy than he ever had.

Which was to say, none.

From the first, it had thrilled Belial, that exacting ruthlessness, the edged truth that Lucifer used to draw blood. Se found it beautiful, like perfectly clear ice, frozen from perfectly still water. And he had completely confirmed Belial's own view of what the world was. This was the first time se had not been able to see what hir lord did.

Belial drew hir knees up and rested hir chin on them, tucked into a corner of hir bed. A better rebellion. Se understood that. And love itself was insane—se knew that, too. But care for another was not natural to demons. Or any other living creature, as far as Belial had ever been able to tell. As soon as anyone, angel or human, cast off the rules they bound themselves with, they consumed each other in perfectly selfish savagery. Angels had long managed to do so without breaking any rules as such. It was that hypocrisy, masking utterly solipsistic cruelties as holiness, that had most disgusted Belial with Heaven. The fact that, even when se wrote it out in blood and sex and rot for them, no one saw the truth.

No one but Lucifer.

Belial loved the honesty of the fallen. Surely the Lord of Hell, of all people, wouldn't try to deny that? Could he truly believe that living nature held something else? Hadn't Belial proven it otherwise, in Heaven and on Earth both? Se remembered his expression, the one time he had come to the cities by the sea—chill and ironic and unsurprised. Had that not been the ultimate example of the truth that lay behind God's rules? The truth of the Creator's work, the Creator's reflection, the Creator's corruption?

Outside the rules...

Belial paused, unfolding as se remembered the thought that had come to hir earlier.

The Messiah had gone outside those rules. Rather well outside; it was one of the things Belial had actually somewhat respected in that strange individual. And yet, Mudou Setsuna had not acted with pure selfishness. He didn't care for abstracts, that Belial had been able to see. But he did care for his people. His friends. His sister.

Belial nibbled on a nail for a long moment before rising, decisively, locking hir domain and heading for Machonon. For once, se didn't look for centers of unrest, or levers to pull, or bother with the houses of the powerful. Se came, instead, to an enclave of those who had fled from Raquia when it crumbled. A fairly small enclave, but one se had noted before was more cohesive than any faction of the angelic armies managed to be. More cohesive than any powerful angelic faction, period, except for young Raziel's. They reminded her a bit of Kurai's people.

Hir intent to remain unnoticed met with a check almost as soon as se arrived, which actually confirmed hir opinion that this little group might offer the insights se needed. It was obvious that the Forbidden Children among them were taught to use their powers rather than simply suppress them, and Belial suspected their leader had once been an angel of high rank. A strange combination. If anyone could demonstrate living outside the rules, it would be them.

"...if we're lucky, Rehel will be too busy to get around to us for a while..." their leader was saying as Belial slipped in.

One of the others raised his head, sharply. "Arariel. Someone's here."

All three who were present looked around, and Arariel frowned. "You're sure?" she asked.

"Very," the one who had alerted them said, definitely, looking in Belial's direction.

Interesting. "One is impressed," Belial lilted, stepping out of the shadows.

The third angel, younger than the other two if Belial was any judge, tensed, but Arariel held up a hand. "Who are you?" she asked.

Belial fanned out a handful of cards. "Merely a jester. You might call one Mad Hatter."

The alert one's expression said that he didn't think much of this. "Whoever that is, he isn't merely anyone," he said to his leader, tense and wary. "He's strong. And a demon."

Arariel nodded. "I'm Arariel. What do you want here?" she asked, still calm.

"Merely to observe," Belial answered with a charming smile.

"Observe," Arariel repeated dryly. "Is this a synonym for scout? As in, the advance of an invasion?"

Belial laughed. "One very much doubts it. One's compatriots are far too taken up with the assimilation of planes to have much taste for other amusements yet."

"Yet," the tense one muttered, glaring.

"So you just want to hang around and watch us for no particular reason," Arariel summarized.

"Quite." Belial smiled.

"Is there anything we could do to stop you?" Arariel asked, in a tone of academic curiosity.

"Unlikely." Belial taped a finger against hir lips, judiciously. "It might be somewhat more of a chore under the gaze of your eagle eyed one, there," nodding at the alert one, "but not much."

Arariel thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Try to stay out of the way, then."

"One will endeavor to do so," Belial murmured, amused.

"Good. This is Nisroc, and that's Tabris," she nodded to the alert one and the tense one, respectively. "I'm sure you'll meet everyone else as you go. Make yourself at home." She turned back to the little conclave Belial had interrupted, and, after a few distrustful glances, so did the other two.

Belial withdrew, quietly, musing on Arariel's invitation.

"I still don't get why Arariel let you in so fast," Tabris complained, flicking the red wings that had gotten him thrown into the slums in the first place.

He and Belial were perched on the ruined roof of the group's home, watching a small but rather nasty fight between two splinters of the angelic host through Tabris' spell.

"Practicality, most likely," Belial speculated, admiring a particularly sharp explosion. "And, perhaps, an instinct for truth. She knows one is no threat to you, at this time. If it's any comfort to you, she does not seem to trust one too much."

Tabris growled. It entertained Belial that he, who made a considerably greater show of hostility, tolerated hir presence far better than Arariel's other second, Maion. Belial could drive Maion out of a room just by producing flowers from nowhere; the frivolity seemed to offend him.

Actually, they all entertained hir. Perhaps even fascinated hir.

Se still had some difficulty understanding how they managed to hold together, for one thing. Arariel was a large part of the answer, se had no doubt, but not the whole of it. Belial didn't see how Arariel could have anything to do with Isda's tolerance for the double-handful of obstreperous brats the enclave boasted. Nor the way even Tabris and Maion, who constantly sought in small ways to show each other up, would guard each other's backs without an instant's hesitation. Belial had seen it, shadowing them while they hunted information on their neighbors. More than that, each of them accepted the other's guard without a qualm.

Even Charoum and Harahel, who, by standing rule, were not permitted to be alone in the same room lest only one of them walk out, even between them lay... something. Belial couldn't exactly call it warmth; any warmth between those two could only be the beginning of spontaneous combustion. Acceptance, perhaps. Se had been waiting, in vain, ever since se met them for Harahel and Charoum to kill each other. Instead they seemed to accept that they detested each other passionately and worked around it.

All the time jealousy and spite and greed pulled every one of this little band in one direction, and that something else pulled them back. They weren't a perfect or model anything, to Belial's great delight; se didn't think se could have stomached it if they had been. Perfection was only ever a cover for corruption in hir extensive experience. What they were, illegal children, imperfect angels, political refugees and all, was a living whole in absolute defiance of the uncaring chaos around them.

Definitely fascinating. If Belial could understand them, se might have the key to hir lord's changed vision.

"Hey, Tabris!" Isda poked her flour-powdered face over the edge of the stairs. "Harahel and Nisroc found something. Arariel wants you to hear about it."

Tabris, without a word of farewell, abandoned his observation and dove down the stairs, eyes bright. Belial chuckled, and slid into the shadows to emerge, well ahead of him, in Arariel's makeshift office.

"Hatter," Nisroc said, less a greeting and more a warning to everyone else that se was present.

Maion, leaning over Zachriel as his fingers danced on a keyboard, twitched just slightly. His shoulders tensed even more as Tabris burst into the room, and glared at Belial.

"Will you cut that out?!" he exclaimed, irate at having been beaten to the office once again.

Belial considered for a moment. "No, one doesn't think so."

"Indulge your silliness more quietly," Maion directed, firmly.

"Certainly." Belial produced hir brightest, laciest parasol and twirled it gently over hir shoulder. Se gave Maion a brilliant smile as he twitched again. Arariel raised a brow at hir, and Belial obligingly let the gaudy thing fade away again.

"Zachriel, anything yet?" Arariel asked.

"Nope. There doesn't seem to be a thing in the records about this place." Belial was a bit surprised that he sounded so pleased. Normally, Zachriel took any failure of information as a personal affront. And se had to admit, while he was physically frail, Zachriel's relationship with the various databases and archives of Heaven was something close to symbiotic. Or, perhaps, romantic.

"Even I wouldn't have found it if we hadn't more or less tripped over the doorway," Nisroc observed.

"And it's only half a mile through the southbound tunnels," Harahel enthused.

A memory stirred in Belial's mind. Hidden, through the tunnels, just south of their present location...

"I wonder if it's proof against the scanners Rehel's people have," Arariel said, half to herself.

"Yes," Belial answered. Se smiled, urbanely, as the entire room turned to face hir. "Scanners, signature seekers, any and all messengers, even the voice of Bath Kol. At least once the door's shut."

"It was ajar when we found it," Nisroc confirmed. "You know the place?"

"Oh, yes," Belial murmured. "It was very useful on any number of occasions."

Everyone visibly decided not to ask.

"All right, it's confirmed," Arariel said, briskly, "Maion see what you can do about an evacuation plan."

Belial blinked. "Confirmed?" se echoed in mild disbelief. "You do realize that one might be leading you straight into a trap?"

"Yes, you might," Arariel agreed, serenely. "But the expression on your face just now, when you mentioned how useful the place was, was far too vicious to be a put on. When you're lying, you smile. You meant that."

Belial took in Arariel's matter-of-fact expression for a long moment before se burst out laughing. "One knew there was a good reason to like you. How marvelously realistic."

An edge of discomfort followed Belial when se left, though. Reviewing the way they had behaved around hir just now, se could only come to the conclusion that this little group had accepted hir as... well, if not one of them, an ally. Following Arariel's lead, they growled and teased and ignored hir much as they did any of their own.

It was far from the first time perfect strangers, and even acquaintances who should have known better, had come to trust Belial. But se thought it might be the first time it had happened when se hadn't been trying. What were they thinking?

What were they expecting, assuming such trustworthiness on the part of a demon? Just as Kurai had trusted hir "wedding proposal". Just as Lucifer...

Belial bit hir lip and frowned.

That comparison rooted at the bottom of Belial's mind, and it wasn't long at all before it bore a fruit se would never have expected.

It started with Isda rounding up the children with the kind of sharp haste Belial had seen on battlefields, and herding them toward the tunnels. That was enough to tell Belial that someone was coming, and the explosion shortly after confirmed the suspicion quite conclusively. Se emerged, discreetly, to find Arariel, Nisroc, Tabris and Maion standing on the remains of a wall, facing a sizable group of intruders in uniform. The best shots among Arariel's people had managed to find spots for a fairly good cross-fire pattern, if their leaders would just get out of the way.

"It's simple enough," a tall man was telling them, in a voice which was, in Belial's professional opinion, far too smooth. "If your leader surrenders herself to us, no one else will be harmed and we'll leave you in peace."

Tabris was inhaling, presumably to tell the man where to put his suggestion, when Arariel spoke. "Will your word bind Rehel?"

The angel standing on the launcher which had, presumably, demolished the wall, barked a laugh and jumped down to saunter forward. "Yes, it will bind me. After all, without a leader, these others will fall apart into pointless rabble again."

"Very well," Arariel said, after a cold pause.

"Arariel!" Tabris burst out. "You can't...!"

Arariel spun and laid a hand on his shoulder, and another on Maion's. Belial saw her lips shape the words But you can. She turned again and stepped toward the intruders. Buying time with her death, Belial decided, tallying the defenders against the intruders. Time to make just a few more preparations that might give her people enough of an edge.

Maion's hand clamped on Tabris' arm and held him back when he would have gone after her.

Rehel grinned, and gestured to his tall lieutenant, who drew his sidearm.

And Belial was, abruptly, consumed with fury—the kind of blazing, acid rage se hadn't felt since the first war, having been far too busy since then trying to keep Gehenna in one piece. It didn't matter that se knew Rehel had made a severe miscalculation, that executing Arariel in front of her people would ensure they hunted him down to destruction with the last shred of life and breath in them. The expression on Arariel's face, as she stepped forward, was too like and too unlike the shadow of a smirk Lucifer had worn when he unravelled his body to blanket Hell with the smallest breath of life for his fallen followers. Rehel's smirk was too very like the twist on the lips of the angels who had touched hir. Se remembered too well. Se didn't step back to watch the show, as se normally would have. Instead, Belial stepped forward, and was beside the intruders in a slide of shadow.

The tall man's hands hit the ground with a slight thump, followed a moment later by his body.

"Hatter!" Arariel shouted, cut off as Belial threw her back into the arms of her seconds.

Belial turned on Rehel, a snarl twisting at hir usual sardonic calm. He had threatened these people who had accepted hir, whose beautiful, precarious, living balance had lured hir into taking part in their lives. Just as Lucifer had, when he returned.

Rehel clearly saw his destruction in Belial's face, and sprang back, shouting to his soldiers. They fired with the speed of fear, but Belial was gone. Se slid among them, and they fell, cut down one after another, until only Rehel stood. Belial stepped in front of him long enough for him to get a good look, and then was gone again, flickering through the shadows that surrounded them, reappearing always long enough to be seen but never long enough to be struck. Dancing with this creature who dared think himself righteous, as se had danced with so many before. Slashing through his illusions until they were all gone and he died of truth.

Belial stood, at last, looking down at the bodies, absently shaking blood off hir hand.

"Ha... Hatter?"

Belial turned to see blank disbelief in Tabris' eyes as they tracked from hir to the bodies and back. Se tipped hir head to one side and waited to see what would happen next.

What happened next was that Arariel picked up a scrap of towel and came to offer it to Belial, silently. Hir mouth curled in appreciation of this sang-froid, and se accepted it, wiping off hir hands. Something, though, perhaps the expression on Maion's face, wouldn't let Belial leave it at that. Arariel's orders to her people about disposing of the bodies, while it did shake everyone out of their apparent paralysis, also offered an opportunity just too good to pass up.

"There's a much easier way," Belial noted, blandly.

"Is there?" Arariel eyed hir. "Do tell."

Belial waved a hand, opening a gate to the borderlands under the entire lot of erstwhile intruders. "There are gardens taking hold," se said, into the resulting quiet. "One is sure they could use the fertilizer."

After another long, frozen moment, Nisroc turned and called up to one of the others, "You owe me two weeks of late patrol. I told you he was a Demon Lord."

Amid the ensuing expostulation that the bet had only been for one week, and Nisroc wouldn't cheat a friend like that, would he? Belial had to wonder how se had known that they wouldn't react with fear. Because se had been sure of it.

And for the life of hir, se couldn't have said how. Perhaps it was this trust thing, again; it was really extremely counterintuitive. Se sighed.

"I don't know about you, but I need a drink," Arariel said, under the hubbub. "Care to join me?"

"One would be delighted," Belial agreed.

They wound up in Arariel's office, where people occasionally looked in to tell their leader that the children had returned, or that the hole in the building was boarded up, or, curiously enough, to grin at Belial.

"May I ask your rank?" Arariel said, at last.

"One is first among the seven Great Satans," Belial answered, and then amended, "well, four now. Curious how that matches the reduction in numbers of the Great Angels."

"What are you really doing here?" Arariel asked, softly, examining her glass.

"One spoke the truth. You were not mistaken in that." At Arariel's exasperated glance, Belial smiled and continued. "One has long held certain opinions about people's basic natures. Opinions which, one's lord has recently suggested, may be... incomplete." Belial leaned back and looked at the light of sunset, painted across the ceiling. "One felt that you might be complete."

"We like to think so," Arariel agreed, dryly. After a moment she spoke again. "Are you complete, now, too, Mad Hatter?"

Belial's breath caught. "You do remind one of the young Princess," se murmured. How did they both strike the things hidden even from Belial, like that? Because it was true; alone, Belial had never felt completion, even when se destroyed those whose corruption seemed the source of diminishment. Se adjusted the brim of hir hat lower. "Yes."

Arariel tossed back the last of her drink. "Good."

Belial waited long enough for everyone to stop tip-toeing around hir before announcing hir departure over dinner one night.

Tabris claimed hir timing just proved hir perversity.

"Thank you for your help, while you were with us," Arariel said, coming forward.

"It was entirely one's pleasure," Belial said.

Arariel looked hir in the eye. "And will you be coming back some time with a suggestion that we join Lucifer's people?"

Belial arched hir brows. "What would you say if one did?" se asked, intrigued.

"I don't know."

"Fair enough," Belial murmured, amused. "One does not know either."

"Would you destroy us if we refused?" Arariel asked, with that detached curiosity she showed over particularly vital questions.

"Only if the service of one's lord demanded it," Belial told her.

Arariel nodded. "Understood."

"Wise angel," Belial smiled at her. "One does like you." Se touched two fingers to hir lips, and then to Arariel's cheek.

Arariel's mouth quirked with appreciation of this delicacy. "Come visit us some time, then," she invited.

Belial paused in the act of turning to go. "One just might."

When Belial returned to the borderlands, se chose to fly. It was not a common choice for hir, and hopefully that would prevent anyone connecting the person on top of a very tall and barren crag with Belial and pestering hir. Se wasn't in the mood to deal with demon politics just at the moment.

"Was your vacation nice?"

Belial had not sensed any presence behind hir, and, in the moment before logic noted that only one individual now alive and mobile had the power to conceal himself from hir, Belial spun around violently, teetering on the edge of the cliff. Hir wings flared out, preparing to turn a fall into a swoop which would, without a doubt, be very painful.

Lucifer caught hir back from the edge with an arm around hir waist. Belial spent a moment making sure se did not dig fingers into his shoulders hard enough to bruise, nor pant for breath, nor answer hir lord in unbecomingly blunt language.

"I do hope your usual aplomb will be returning at some point soon," Lucifer observed.

There was, as they said, no time like the present, and Belial decided se might as well put hir new resolves into practice starting now. If Lucifer really wished for reciprocality, for hir to consider him a companion as well as leader, to answer his familiarity in kind, well, he would get his wish.

"Ah, but one's upset was a gift from you," se answered, sweetly. "One has no wish to seem ungrateful by getting over it too quickly."

Lucifer's mouth curled. "You chose well when you called yourself a jester."

"Does one amuse you, then? One is most gratified." Belial's tone was sharper than se usually took with hir lord.

"It is somewhat endearing when someone so controlled has to work so hard to keep from calling me names," he admitted, eyes gleaming. "Ruffling such legendary composure does carry a certain satisfaction with it."

Belial had to agree; it had entertained hir for centuries on end, especially when it came to Lucifer...

Oh... dear.

This information and its possible implications, were driven home when hir lord ran his fingers, lightly, through hir feathers, stroking one wing into place behind hir. Se shivered at the touch and looked up to see his smile.

"You never used to like to tease this way," Belial said, glancing aside, still rather taken aback by it.

"You were the one who noted that I've changed, somewhat," he returned, still smoothing hir wings.

Belial sighed, ending on a small laugh, and leaned against him. "Indeed."

"And you?" Lucifer asked, quietly.

Belial thought of Kurai, who liked hir despite knowing personally the depths of deceit and betrayal Belial was willing to descend to for hir lord's sake. Of Arariel, and her clear-eyed caution and grave acceptance. Belial had never accepted care, especially on those rare occasions when se discovered what might have been true feeling directed at hir. But those two had somehow slipped past hir guard. Could se really expect to keep Lucifer out?

"I... have already begun, I think," se answered, softly.

"It's about time, idiot butterfly," Lucifer said, tone gentler than his words.

Belial looked up at him, and smiled, wryly. "I will always follow you."

"Why?" Lucifer asked, face still.

"Because truth is merciless, and reality makes no apology," Belial said. "And I love that."

The hard gray eyes softened just a bit. "Keep a little mercy for yourself, Belial," he told hir. "You've cut yourself on your own edge for a long time. If you want to die that way, I won't stop you; but think a little about what target you really want to strike."

The words slid through Belial like a sword, the same visceral thrill se had felt at their first meeting. "Yes," se breathed.

Lucifer and Belial shared a long smile, nearly a grin—of celebration, of bloodthirst, of comfort, of freedom. He leaned down and kissed hir once, a fierce kiss of companionship.

Belial sighed as they parted. "And that, my lord, is enough, I think. Unless, of course, you truly desire me. You've made your point."

A low laugh answered hir. "We'll have to start thinking of you by the older reading of your name," Lucifer said.

Belial gave him an inquiring look.

"Unyielding," he prompted. "Worthless only if the greatest measure of worth is yielding to God."

Belial was glad hir mask was on; se thought se might be blushing. "Really?" se murmured.

Lucifer's eyes gleamed at hir tone, but he let it go. Only for the time being, Belial was sure. The future promised to be... interesting.

"Are you ready to return?" he asked instead, twisting a gate open in the air.

Belial pulled hirself back together. "One is ready," se confirmed.

As they crossed through, se couldn't help laughing to hirself. Lucifer, Lord of Hell, was, unless Belial was very much mistaken, planning to take Adam Kadmon at that being's word. He intended to rule a realm neither holy nor fallen.

Belial smiled wickedly, looking forward to the expressions on the faces of the angels and demons, both.

End

The Mind is its Own Place - Part One

The world is changing for everyone, and everyone has to find some way to deal with it. Drama With Vague Romance, I-3

"The mind is its own place, and in itself, / Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n." Milton, Paradise Lost, Book 1, ll 249-55

Uriel

Uriel sat back in his chair as Doll bounced into the room with the tea tray. Perhaps someday he would discover how she managed that without rattling a single saucer; for the time being he only accepted the cup she poured him with absent thanks, mind still occupied with a different mystery.

"Master?"

"Mm?" Uriel turned his attention back to her.

"It's time to wind me up again," she told him, brightly, removing her key from its place on her necklace and offering it.

"Doll," Uriel told her, a little amused, "you can do that for yourself, now."

Doll nibbled her lip and glanced down, and then back up at him from under her lashes. Uriel stifled a sigh. She really had a remarkable instinct for how to get around him. Her determination on her own way of doing things reminded him strongly of his old second among the Dominions, though their tactics couldn't be more different.

"All right, then." He accepted the key and opened the panel in Doll's stomach as she tucked her blouse up modestly. "There," he said, gently, as he finished. He couldn't help but return the brilliant smile she gave him.

"What are you working on?" she asked, picking up her own tea.

A slightly different blend than his, to be sure; she was still a creature of Yggdrasil, after all.

"Is that," she tipped her head, frowning at the bright lines and curves hovering over the table, "...Heaven?"

Uriel had come more and more to believe that Doll must have been an angel of rank before her death. For her to recognize this schematic view only confirmed it.

"In a way," he agreed. "And also not. You remember that the hells were cut loose and driven into the heavens in this last war?"

She nodded, still frowning at the image.

"This is what's happened since. Some reaction occurred between the two, and the planes have been merging into each other." Uriel paused a moment, contemplating the image himself. "Or, perhaps I should say, they are merging into something else."

"Yes," Doll murmured, one fingertip tracing lines here and there. "This isn't how it used to be."

"It's causing a certain amount of consternation." Uriel tried to keep his expression from being too pleased, but wasn't sure he succeeded judging by the way Doll suddenly grinned at him. He cleared his throat. "The land is... refracting. Structures are appearing that aren't quite like anything ever created in either Heaven or Hell, and they seem remarkably resistant to being changed. I don't know who first started calling the new area Abe, but it's very fitting. The land grows like a living thing." He hesitated. "What I was looking at today," he continued, slowly, "was the connection that seems to be developing between Abe and Yggdrasil."

Doll blinked at him. "They're... touching?" she asked in a startled tone. He couldn't blame her; it was a rather unusual development. The heavens had always refused the touch of the World Tree, before.

"Yes. There seems to be a place where they're growing together. I think it may be the new connection between realms, the way our worlds are stabilizing themselves after the old connections were cut." He smiled at Doll. "It does mean you could come with me, when I go there."

She looked up at him, solemnly. "Do you want to go back, Master?"

"Back to my old place? No." Uriel stared, unseeing, at the table in front of him. "I'll never give either angels or demons the power of my voice again. And the order of Dominions... I have no place with them anymore." Though he did sometimes wonder whether Ara-san had survived or not. He hadn't seen his old second during the recent conflict, but that didn't really mean anything. Though she was the sort to rise to prominence wherever she went. But, perhaps... He shook off the dark reflections as well as he could.

A slight weight settled against him, and he looked down, surprised, to see Doll's head resting on his shoulder.

"It will be nice to be able to stay with you," she offered.

Uriel smiled a little, and stroked her hair. "Yes," he agreed. "It will."

Belial

The windows of Lucifer's growing city occurred in strange places sometimes. Belial liked it. Especially the ones with deep ledges set just above head height, that allowed someone to perch in them unobtrusively and enjoy the view both inside and out. At the moment the view inside was more interesting. Outside offered the architecture characteristic of all Abe's cities, glass and stone, odd trees, towers with doors halfway up, fountains in the middle of stairways.

Inside, Astaroth was waving a knife around his own throat. And, while Belial did make a small hobby of watching the city and attempting to catch new parts coming into being, Astaroth's current performance was moving along at a much more riveting pace.

Belial had heard people say that they would go mad if they had to attend some boring meeting or other for another minute, but had never seen it actually happen before. Astaroth seemed to have been set off by Lucifer's mention that Uriel had begun to receive the souls of demons. It was a bit difficult to tell for sure, of course, given the incoherence with which Astaroth was shouting about oblivion and the destruction of souls.

"You want to follow her?" Lucifer asked, at last, from where he leaned in one of the archways.

Astaroth turned somewhat wild eyes on him.

"Then you might not want to do it that way," their lord continued, nodding at the knife. "Self-destruction was always a touchy issue, you may recall."

Astaroth inhaled, sharply. "You believe His strictures will still bind us?" he asked, voice thin.

Lucifer shrugged one shoulder. "Some parts still seem to hold. Others have crumbled. Who knows?"

"I don't care!" Astaroth proclaimed, voice spiraling up again. "If it isn't broken already, I'll break it!" He raised the knife again.

Lucifer ran a hand through his hair, and Belial smiled, imagining his silent sigh.

"Astaroth."

Belial shivered. That was the voice that none of them could ignore and few of them could defy; Lucifer didn't use it very often. It struck Astaroth silent and still, now.

"Come here," Lucifer said, more quietly, pushing off from the wall and beckoning.

Hope flared in Astaroth's eyes, strange to see there. He laid the knife in Lucifer's hand and sank to the floor at his feet, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. "Majesty... my Lord..." he whispered.

The ironic quirk of Lucifer's lips told Belial that he was reflecting on the rarity of such heartfelt respect from one of the Satans. "Good luck finding your other self, Astaroth," he murmured. "And better luck next time."

The knife slid into Astaroth without drama or flourish, and he collapsed remarkably quietly for someone, in Belial's opinion, so given to histrionics. Se slid down from the window ledge.

"And so passes the last of us who kept any significant following among the demons of middling power," se noted, sweeping a mocking bow to Beelzebub and Leviathan and rising to face Lucifer. "Which leaves a significant number at loose ends, now. Do you wish them to be contained or killed?"

Lucifer's cool look gave nothing away. "The ones with enough ambition or hatred to make trouble are engaged with the splinters of the Host still concerned with fighting us instead of each other. They're a self-solving problem."

"Problem?" Beelzebub repeated, softly. "Is it no longer your intention to defeat the Host? Majesty."

Lucifer actually laughed out loud. "What Host?" he asked. "Two thirds of everyone is dead, the Orders are in chaos, even the ones that still have their leaders, and the Anima Mundi, the only credible threat, shows no particular interest in us one way or another."

"And Michael?" Leviathan rumbled.

Belial edged discreetly back, so as to be out of the potential line of fire.

"Michael will come to me, if he comes," Lucifer noted. "What are you worried for?"

"I worry for your future plans," Leviathan answered, bluntly. "We have followed you because you hated Heaven more than any of us, enough to lead us back and destroy those who cast us out. Will you turn away from that now, Majesty?"

Lucifer looked deeply amused. "You followed me because you weren't strong enough to replace me, even with my soul gone," he corrected with brutal truth. "And the one who cast us out is destroyed. Further vendetta is a waste of time when we could be enjoying our return already. If you two are so taken with the idea of spitting on our exile, you could always look into taking over your old order. The seraphim are without a leader, after all."

Belial had to bite hir lip at the long look Beelzebub and Leviathan shared, and the way they carefully didn't say anything to each other as they left. Once they were out the door, se indulged in a good laugh.

Lucifer raised a brow at hir.

"One bows to your brilliance, my lord," Belial declaimed, suiting action to word. "One can think of few things more appealing to their grudge than that. And ruling the Order of Seraphim would, of course, require them to deal once again with angels as their own people."

"I suppose it will," Lucifer agreed. "Hopefully they'll also be too busy watching each other to attack me." His look turned serious. "Or you, which is a more likely first step. Watch yourself, butterfly."

"Life would be boring without these little challenges," Belial said, airily.

Exasperation edged into Lucifer's expression, and Belial laughed up at him.

"One is careful, my lord. With such destructive associates, it doesn't do to ever be otherwise."

Raphael

Building material rained down around Raphael in very small pieces, and he smiled. It looked like Michael had finally resumed his hobby of destroying Raphael's offices; he'd been a bit concerned for a while, there. It just wasn't natural for Michael to be as considerate as he had been of late.

"Trying to give me more casualties to take care of, Mika-chan?" he inquired.

"You're a doctor, you're supposed to have casualties," Michael told him, plunking down on top of his desk.

"That isn't quite the way we hope it will work," Raphael murmured.

"Besides," Michael added, ignoring the interruption, "it's only fair for you to do your share. There's a ton of casualties out there," he waved toward the hole in the wall, "that you never see in your cushy little roost here."

Raphael shrugged that off. "This isn't a field hospital."

Michael glared at him. "You know, you're a real bastard when you're trying to act like you don't give a damn."

"Considering how many casualties you've personally contributed, Mika-chan, don't you think that's a little of the pot and kettle?" Raphael prodded.

Michael snorted, indignantly. "I only add to the body count when the idiots get in my way trying to kill each other. And don't call me Mika-chan," he added with another glare.

Raphael smirked.

"Michael-sama, how nice to see you," Barbiel said from the doorway.

"Yo." Michael waved.

Raphael had been a little surprised, when he came out of regeneration, to see how well his second and Michael were getting along. Michael seemed to have rubbed off on her a little; she was far more outspoken than she used to be. Always polite and respectful, but definitely more outspoken. He wondered whether Michael had anything to do with Barbiel's new penchant for wearing her sleek, black combat gear under her lab coat, too. Not that it wasn't becoming.

"These requests need your approval, Raphael-sama," she said, holding up a handful of folders. She paused and looked pointedly at Michael's seat on the desk.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on," Michael grumbled. Raphael noticed that he did, however, move off the desk promptly enough. Clearly, the influence didn't go all one way.

"I certainly do, in the office at least," Barbiel answered with a bland smile and a glint in her eye.

Definitely more outspoken.

"Too much information!" Michael yelled. "I don't want to know what you do with that pervert!"

"Considering the things you've walked in on in the past," Raphael observed, dryly, "I have to wonder what might be left that you don't know about."

"That's because you're a disgusting lech who thinks anyone who does walk in would be looking," Michael said, righteously.

"The only one who would put up with a brat who has the manners of an untrained puppy," Raphael returned, agreeably.

They grinned at each other.

"Well, I just dropped in to say hi," Michael told him, hopping up onto the ruined outside wall. "So I'll see you around. Later Bar-chan!"

"Have fun Michael-sama," she called after him, smiling. She looked down at Raphael, eyes still laughing. "The requests, Raphael-sama?"

"Hm. What about a kiss, first?" he suggested, taking her hand to draw her closer.

"Work first, please, Raphael-sama," she told him, serenely.

He sighed, but, having extensive experience with her dedication to doing her job properly, let her go and flipped through the folders, signing off on each one. She accepted them back and leaned down to give him a kiss sweet enough to make up for the delay.

"Are you going to be making rounds today?" she asked, as they parted.

"Yes. It's been a while since I checked with our people working in Machonon."

"I'll get your body armor ready, then," she said, one hand going absently to check the gun at her hip. "And," she added, glancing at the hole in the wall, "get the repair crew up here again while we're out."

"Quite," Raphael agreed, smiling at the wreckage.

Noise

"Those towers are new," the queen remarked, pausing on their walk. "Has anyone been inside them, yet?"

"I asked Lil to take a look today," Noise told her. "We don't have enough people, yet, to need the space, but I told her to make sure there weren't any gates to odd places at least."

Kurai-sama snorted. "Like the one in my first bedroom, under the bed, that went through to that ice valley. Can I pick 'em or what? I think it's a sign."

"The new land doesn't seem quite that... intentional, Majesty," Noise answered, torn between amusement and worry. Kurai-sama seemed to notice, and smiled at her.

"Don't worry, Noise, I'm just sulking."

"You don't sulk, Kurai-sama," Noise protested.

"Not so much anymore, I suppose," the queen agreed, easily.

"Have you been thinking a lot, lately, about finding a consort?" Noise asked, after a minute, firmly suppressing the desire to add about time.

Kurai-sama sighed, and leaned against the rail of the colonnade they were walking through. "Some. I'm less worried, these days, about needing a marriage alliance. Our upper border, which is really the one I'm most worried about, is secure. For now," she added, wryly.

"So that really was the Mad Hatter who visited the other day?" Noise asked, as neutrally as she could.

"Yep. It's actually his personal domain that came up against our border. At least we can be sure no one but Lucifer himself will come through there." Kurai-sama frowned, suddenly, and looked at Noise with concerned eyes. "Did you meet him? I asked him to stay away from you."

"He did," Noise assured her, looking down at the courtyard below them. "I just caught sight of him in passing." She shook herself and looked back up at her queen. "Besides, you cleansed his mark from me. I'm fine, now."

Kurai-sama didn't look very convinced, but she let Noise have her way. "It was the dragons who cleansed it," she said, waving a dismissive hand. "I just asked nicely. Anyway, if I don't need an alliance marriage, I do need to find a consort, still. I'm the last of my line. I know it makes you all kind of nervous."

"We want you to be happy, too, Kurai-sama," Noise said, softly.

Kurai-sama threw an arm around her shoulders in a quick hug. "I know," she answered. Then she grinned. "Maybe I'll ask Jade where to find someone."

Noise quailed at the thought of what the acerbic dragons might say to a request like that. The queen was definitely the bravest woman she knew.

Raziel

Raziel listened to his people argue and thought longingly of the bottle of painkillers in the next room.

"Bodiel, we can't possibly include demons in our ranks!" Oriphiel snapped. "It's irresponsible of you to feed Raziel-sama's fancy on this subject."

Strangling Oriphiel might help, too, now he thought about it.

"And now we see exactly why Zaphkiel-sama passed command to Raziel-sama and not to you," Bodiel shot back, her eyes narrow with leashed anger. "He understands Zaphkiel-sama's goals."

"You presume too much on the fact that you were his second," Oriphiel growled.

"You think too much about the fact that he was appointed Great One of our order instead of you," Bodiel returned, coldly.

"Excluding them simply because they were once cast out would be a bit hypocritical for us, wouldn't it?" Jael interjected, soft-voiced.

"And surely not all of them want to kill and eat us on sight," Rampel added, with a smile at Jael for remembering the Forbidden Children who were Rampel's own constituency.

"So you want to go out unarmed to take the risk?" Oriphiel asked.

Raziel slammed his hand down on the table, finally losing patience. "I'm not asking you to serve yourself up with a sprig of parsley! Although," he added, "you're tempting me to reconsider in a few cases."

Even Oriphiel was silent as Raziel's glare swept the table.

"We can't do nothing," he continued, more evenly. "The demons are beginning to spread out more and more. Life will be infinitely easier if they recognize us as, at the least, a neutral force who won't threaten them without cause."

"Raziel-sama, you know I support your decision," Bodiel said into the quiet, "but I am concerned about what we should do if they reject our offer and turn on us."

Raziel saw the echo of Mad Hatter's words, during the Third War, in her eyes. "Well," he sighed, "they haven't attacked us in force or with coordination so far, so I think we don't need to worry too much about the higher ranked demons. Lucifer must not wish to move against us, or things would have been different. For the others, who are settling around the new land... we'll just have to go case by case and keep our weapons handy."

Three of his four subcommanders nodded, and Oriphiel followed after a grudging hesitation.

"Then I think that's all for today," Raziel said, trying to keep the relief out of his voice. He managed to remain in control and at ease until he got past the door. Then he dove for his medicine cabinet.

If Zaphkiel-sama had had to deal with anything like this, he owed his mentor's memory vast apologies for yelling at him so often.

Arariel

Arariel leaned her chair back and examined the ceiling. "How many does this make?" she asked.

"Three," Nisroc answered, despite their both knowing the question had been rhetorical. Arariel knew perfectly well how many demons she had accepted among her people.

"An invasion without troop movements or a single supply truck to be seen anywhere," she stated. "He knows what he's doing."

"Are you sure this is all by Lucifer's intention?" Nisroc asked, cautiously.

"I'm sure," Arariel said, firmly. "Mad Hatter wouldn't follow anyone without a brain, and if he hasn't stopped them all scattering he must approve of the results it will bring." She swung her chair upright again. "Now we just have to decide what to do about that."

"We trust your judgment." Nisroc's voice was quiet.

Arariel stood and clasped his shoulder briefly. "Thank you. You know I'll do my best for all of us." She looked out the window. "No matter what it takes."

TBC

The Mind is its Own Place - Part Two

The world is changing for everyone, and everyone has to find some way to deal with it. Drama With Vague Romance, I-3

Belial liked to perch on top of the arches that bridged the city streets. The view was excellent, and se did like to keep abreast of how the city was running. It was rare that this observation moved hir to intervention, but se was wondering, now, whether it might not be advisable. Se suspected that if the two demons below annoyed Arariel any more the results could be... significant.

Belial sympathized entirely, of course. Se had never had any patience with strutting underlings, either. But it would mean a delay before Belial found out why Arariel had come, and that would be annoying.

"...kind of stringy, maybe we should start with the other one," one of the leering idiots said, eyeing the very tense angel behind Arariel. Armaita, if Belial remembered correctly, not one se had known well.

Arariel's eyes narrowed, and her wings unfurled, pure and brilliant against the stone of the city. Belial decided enough was enough.

"You will not," se stated.

"Yeah, and who..." the demon choked as Belial slipped down from the arch. A cold, amused look sent both demons scuttling away, stumbling over disclaimers and apologies. Belial sniffed, and turned back to hir acquaintances in time to catch Armaita's sigh of relief.

Arariel was wearing a rather crooked smile. "Thanks, Hatter."

"Entirely one's pleasure," Belial assured her with a sweeping bow. "Might one ask what brings you here, though?"

"I got tired of waiting for you," Arariel answered, eyes shuttered.

Belial's brows climbed. "Indeed?" se murmured. "One does apologize for being tardy. You wish to see His Majesty, then?"

Arariel drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Yes."

"Hm." Belial tipped hir head, watching Arariel for a long moment, but she returned the look without a single twitch or flinch. As expected, really. "Follow me," Belial said, at last.

Se led them down boulevards, up stairs, through a hall, a garden and over the stepping stones of a large pool.

"Are you taking us by the scenic route?" Arariel asked, as they climbed the ramp that spiraled around the outside of a tower to reach the door on the roof.

"Not really," Belial chuckled. "Lucifer-sama has a talent for finding hard to reach places. Fortunately there aren't many with approaches quite this obscure. Ah, here we are."

Lucifer was leaning against the arm of a chair, facing the door when it opened. He examined his guests and looked a question at Belial.

"Arariel and Armaita," Belial introduced them. "I believe Arariel has some business with you."

He smiled. "Business?"

"Just a few questions I wanted to ask you," Arariel put in, quietly, stepping forward.

Amusement gleamed in Lucifer's eyes. "Ask."

"What do you require of your people?"

Belial, fading into the shadows to watch the show, paused in surprise. That was far more formal than Arariel usually bothered to be.

Lucifer's stillness shed the lazy edge it had had lately. "That they obey me," he replied. A thin smile crossed his lips, and he added, "And that they keep the body count from their internal plotting within reason."

Armaita wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a little. Belial wondered why Arariel had brought her, and not someone like the ever-calm Nisroc.

"And do you protect your own?" Arariel asked.

Belial smirked. The last time Lucifer had been among them he probably wouldn't have dignified such a question with an answer. Now, he pushed upright from his chair.

"I do."

Armaita stumbled to the floor.

"Armaita!" Arariel gathered the other angel close and looked sharply at Lucifer.

Armaita shook her head, squeezing Arariel's hand. "It's true," she said, a little shakily, and then laughed on a broken breath. "Very, very true."

Belial started. And then se couldn't resist the urge to applaud. "You brought someone who hears truth to negotiations! Brilliant, Arariel." Se paused, judiciously. "More brilliant if it were less obvious, but still."

"Shut up, Hatter," Arariel told hir, exasperated. "This is too much for you, Armaita. Wait for me outside."

Armaita shook her head, stubbornly. "No, Arariel-san. You need to know. I'll be all right." She cast a rueful glance up at Lucifer. "I never thought the Lord of Hell would speak so truly."

Lucifer, who had watched the flurry silently, folded his arms. "Nanatsusaya left me some of its edge, I think. A double edge, of course."

Armaita nodded, and turned back to Arariel. "I'll be all right."

Arariel sighed, and tightened her arms around Armaita. "All right." She looked back up at Lucifer.

"Ask," he repeated, evenly.

"If I bring my people under you, will you protect them?" she asked. "Even if I'm killed?"

"If they wish to continue to serve me, I will protect them," Lucifer answered.

Armaita nodded. Arariel echoed it.

"Then I only have one more question. Will you lead us, and not abandon us, even for Alexiel when she returns?"

Lucifer looked thoroughly startled for a moment, before his mouth twitched and he raised his eyes to Belial's. Se wound hir arms around hirself and gazed back. It was the one thing se had never asked him—had never dared. He sighed.

"Alexiel draws souls after her," he said to Belial and Arariel both, "and there will be times when I'm gone, no doubt. But I won't abandon you."

A shudder passed through Armaita, and she nodded, vehemently. Arariel relaxed, and Belial was mildly disgusted to realize that se had as well.

"All right," Arariel said, tone decisive, and stood. She hesitated, one hand on Armaita's shoulder when she wavered a bit.

Belial settled beside Armaita and offered an arm. The truth was to be valued. Armaita leaned on hir readily.

"Thank you, Hatter-san," she murmured.

Arariel grinned down at them, eyes sparkling as Belial gave her a cool look. "Seems I really did catch you pretty well," she commented. "Only fair that I'm caught in return, I suppose."

"Are you caught?" Lucifer wanted to know, as Arariel approached him.

She snorted and knelt before him. Snagging his hand, she pressed a kiss to the back of it. "I'm yours," she told him, quietly.

Belial laughed silently. That, now, was more the sort of formality se expected from Arariel. In hir arms, Armaita shivered and looked up at Lucifer. Slowly and deliberately, she nodded. His expression warmed a shade as he returned it, and tugged Arariel back up.

"Groveling bores me," he told her. "Don't bother."

She grinned as he went to stand over Armaita. Belial felt a moment of surprise when he held his hands down to Armaita and she took them without hesitation and let him draw her to her still shaky feet. Se didn't think se had ever seen anyone trust the Lord of Hell so simply. Then se caught sight of Arariel's smug expression, behind Lucifer, and had to hide a smile under the brim of hir hat. Arariel was a sly creature, to offer such bait to one who had been betrayed by his creator and reviled by his people because of it.

"Very clever, Arariel," Lucifer said, without looking around.

"I thought so, yes," she agreed, without even the grace to look abashed.

Lucifer directed his amused smile down at Armaita. "And where did you come from?"

"I don't know," she admitted, softly. "Gabriel-sama took me into her household very young. I never found out whether I was a Forbidden Child, or intended to be like this, or simply an... anomaly. But that was where I met Arariel-san, and when Gabriel-sama was struck down Arariel-san took me with her and escaped."

"That's like Gabriel," Lucifer noted. "And like Arariel, too," he added, glancing over his shoulder at his new subordinate. She met his eyes calmly.

"Your assistant, here, should make it easier to convince your people to accept my rule," he observed. Arariel shrugged one shoulder. "How easily could you convince them to move?" Lucifer pressed.

Arariel arched a brow at him. "Here, I take it? That probably depends on just how much your heart is set on rubbing us in everyone's noses."

Lucifer's eyes were hooded. "I am very dedicated to a stable world for all of us, but I'm doing it out of spite towards the dead. I'm not going to kill you off with unwarranted optimism."

Armaita twitched a little and looked up at him reproachfully.

"Always and only the truth," he told her before turning back to Arariel. "There's a new area of the city no one has moved into yet. I would prefer you didn't have to leave a trail of bodies behind you when you walk down the streets, but I do want you closer."

Belial considered that. It sounded as though se was finally going to have some company in hir attendance on hir lord. Se eyed Arariel, who was eyeing hir back. Lucifer leaned back against his chair, out of the line of measuring looks, and waited.

"If the second war taught me nothing else," Arariel spoke at last, "it taught me what loyalty means."

Another two edged statement, that. But Belial was willing enough to trade away a little of hir freedom to betray in return for one more person who would not betray Lucifer.

"One understands the principle, as well," se answered.

"I think the question is whether you'll apply it," Arariel said, dryly.

Belial returned a nod. "I think the answer is that I will."

Se appreciated Arariel's diplomacy in not checking the statement immediately with Armaita.

Lucifer smiled, faintly. "I'll leave you two to settle the details, then." He laid a hand on Armaita's shoulder. "Come. I'll show you the new quarter while they fence with each other."

Armaita muffled a laugh and ducked her head, following him out.

Belial and Arariel both snorted and exchanged a speaking glance. Arariel joined hir at the window, and Belial obligingly moved over to make room on the ledge. They looked out over the city for a while, in comfortable silence. It was Arariel who eventually broke it.

"Alexiel," Arariel pronounced the name like the answer to a question. "Tell me about her."

End

River - Chapter One

Those who are left forge connections along with their new world. Drama With Occasional Romance, I-4 (Incomplete)

Lucifer leaned on the lip of a fountain and watched with some amusement as Belial and Arariel examined the Second Garden of Yggdrasil, each in her own way. Belial perched on a pillar, and Arariel prowled among the arches and benches. Neither of them seemed hugely pleased with the garden, despite what Lucifer considered a wild sort of charm to the place. Or maybe it was the prospective company that troubled them.

"Remind me again why we're bothering to talk to anyone else about this little project of yours?" Arariel asked as she strode back to him.

He arched a brow at her. "As a group, they have the power to carry it off smoothly."

She gave him a slightly pained look. "Am I or am I not speaking to the single most powerful being now alive in these planes? We don't need them."

Lucifer chuckled, quietly; Arariel's bluntness was refreshing. "Not right at this very moment," he agreed.

"Is he always this sneaky?" Arariel asked Belial, after a long moment.

"More or less." Belial slid down from her perch. "One believes people are starting to arrive for the party."

Indeed, one pair was approaching and a quartet had appeared in the distance. Belial stepped forward.

"Raziel-kun, how delightful to see you again."

Raziel was looking older than Lucifer remembered him. Only a bit taller, but far more worn and a good deal less volatile. The boy nodded, warily, back. "Mad Hatter. Lucifer-san. And...?" He glanced, questioningly, at Arariel.

"Arariel," Lucifer supplied. "She's come to me just recently."

Speculation and calculation flickered across Raziel's face as he took in Arariel's ice blond hair and bright, sea colored eyes—classic angelic coloring and form. "I see."

Arariel tucked her hands in her pockets. "Pleased to meet you, Raziel-san. And...?" She tipped her head at Raziel's companion, standing at his shoulder.

"Bodiel, one of the Anima Mundi's subcommanders," Raziel introduced her, taking a seat on one of the benches circling the fountain.

Lucifer listened to the tense amenities with only half his attention, much more interested in the four people nearing them now. Especially the shortest one.

Michael stalked up to him, stopping just far enough away that he could glare without having to crane his neck up. "All right, we're here. What the hell do you want?" he snapped, radiating suspicion and aggression like heat from a bonfire. Lucifer felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. If he ever wanted to give his brother heart failure from sheer rage he would tell Michael that he was cute when he bristled.

Dangerous, but cute.

"Michael. Raphael." Lucifer nodded to his brother's companion, glance taking in the poised woman behind Raphael and the hulking aide standing a bit back from Michael. Wise man, that one. "I have a proposal."

"Well, spit it out, already," Michael growled. "So I can tell you to go to hell. I don't want to spend any more time around you than I fucking have to."

"Going to Hell could present some problems these days," Lucifer noted, coolly.

Flames snapped around Michael before he got hold of himself, and Raphael gave Lucifer a dry look. Arariel had a hand over her eyes, and Belial was smirking. It was nice that he could always rely on Michael to defuse the tension. Well, aside from the tension between the two of them, of course.

"Besides," Lucifer added, "we're still waiting for one more." Right on cue, the twining branches of Yggdrasil, off beyond the pillars and benches of the garden, rustled and a very tall figure emerged from them.

Arariel stiffened, and Lucifer nodded to himself. He'd been right, then. Uriel stopped at the edge of the pavement, looking unusually perturbed. And not, for once, by Lucifer's presence.

"Ara-san," he murmured.

Only Lucifer was close enough to notice the wavering breath Arariel pulled in before answering. "Uriel-sama." She nodded to Uriel, but made no other acknowledgement and didn't move from Lucifer's side.

"You survived, then...?" Uriel asked, hesitantly, eyes flicking to Lucifer.

Arariel drew herself up. "When you disappeared the Order kept itself running reasonably well," she reported, as if she were standing in front of a supervizor's desk. "But the only one left to counter Sevothtarte was Gabriel-sama. I threw my support behind her. It probably wasn't the smartest thing I could have done." Her mouth twisted. "At least I understood enough of the situation to take who I could and run when Gabriel-sama went down. They never caught me, so I was never branded or formally outcast or stripped of my charge. It was easy enough to lose a few more people in Raquiah."

Uriel's eyes were sad. "Ara-san..."

Lucifer laid a casual hand on Arariel's back, and she started like she'd forgotten anyone else was present.

"No wonder you brought Armaita along to ask your questions; especially that last one," he remarked, and smiled to himself when Arariel relaxed under his hand.

"One never did get around to asking your rank, did one?" Belial mused.

A flicker of Arariel's grin returned. "No, you didn't. But don't think this means I'm going to spar knives with you just because I technically outranked you, once upon a time."

Belial made a disappointed moue, and Arariel looked at her old leader with renewed calm. "I survived, Uriel-sama, and so did the Order. Not," she added, "that the judges are seeing much action these days."

A smile tugged at Uriel's mouth. "I'm glad you did, Ara-san."

"Fascinating," Raphael murmured, leaning against a pillar. "I do have to ask, though, whether we could get on before Mika-chan actually explodes from sheer spleen."

Michael transferred his concentrated glare from his brother to his friend, and Lucifer recalled himself and turned to Uriel.

"Are you aware that Abe's growth has been impeded?" he asked.

Uriel's dark eyes sharpened. "I am. Do you know why?"

Lucifer's mouth twisted. "If I say the blockage is centered in Briah, that should answer the question, shouldn't it?" His gaze swept the lot of them and returned to Uriel. "I want to break that choke point before Abe becomes," he flicked his eyes to Yggdrasil, "twisted and stunted."

"Out of the goodness of your heart, no doubt," Raphael suggested, examining his nails.

Lucifer raised a brow. "Have you not noticed that my people live here, too, Raphael? I hadn't thought you were quite that oblivious."

Raphael coolly declined to answer the jab and settled back, watchful. Michael wasn't nearly as restrained.

"Shit! You really are, aren't you? You're really trying to take over the fucking heavens! What the hell makes you think I'll help, you son of a bitch?"

Lucifer didn't even try to deny his brother's charge; it was more or less right, and explaining the whole plan would take too long. Instead he showed his teeth in a wolfish smile that excluded everyone but the two of them. "Because it will give you a chance to destroy a couple preciously civilized cabals and the supercilious bastards who run them. Raze them to the ground and leave those sneers smoking."

Raw want flared in Michael's face. He leaned into Lucifer's words, fists clenched. "Yes," he hissed. Lucifer didn't think he even realized he'd spoken. They were related all right, he reflected with dark amusement. Though it lightened a bit when Michael's lieutenant, Khamael if he recalled right, examined his leader and heaved a large though silent sigh of resignation. Clearly he understood exactly how Michael would respond to the promise of striking back at the smug bureaucrats who had ostracized him for so long.

Raziel's warm voice, rather sardonic at the moment, broke the fierce focus between Lucifer and Michael. "You've chosen your lures with care, Lucifer-san. So tell me, what inducement do you have lined up to ensure the Anima Mundi's compliance in this plan of yours?"

Lucifer laughed. He'd been sure someone as wily as Zaphkiel wouldn't have chosen a successor without a sharp mind, and was pleased to be right. "None," he told the young angel blithely.

Raziel raised his brows, seeming a bit wary of the edge to Lucifer's smile. "Are you that sure we won't interfere? That sure what you do is in the best interests of us all?"

The boy had an edge of his own, all right. Lucifer eyed him with approval. "I'm very sure you'll agree with me, yes, but that wasn't why I invited you to hear this. I thought you might take some personal interest." He paused, but Raziel didn't bat an eyelash. "One of the choke points we've mapped is the labs."

Fury blazed up in Raziel's green eyes, brighter than even Michael's had, and his face froze in a deadly calm.

"As you do, I see," Lucifer murmured.

Bodiel was chewing on her lip. "Raziel-sama." She laid a hand on his arm, shifting forward more urgently when he made no acknowledgement. "Raziel-sama, please!"

"Peace, Bodiel," he said, at last, very evenly. "I have no intention of abusing my authority by ordering anyone into this affair." She relaxed, slightly. "At the same time," he continued, "I won't deprive those who feel the same way I do of the right to be present for this." He turned his head to look at her, and she flinched back from his hard eyes.

After one more tense moment, Bodiel bowed her head. "Yes, sir. Though I don't want to think about what Oriphiel will say to this," she added, under her breath.

"If Oriphiel has any wisdom left, he won't say anything," Raziel snapped. "Not if he wants to keep his position." His lips curled into an unnerving smile. "We will, after all, need to coordinate this, and an emissary to Michael-san's people would probably be a good idea."

Bodiel winced. "You're getting more like Zaphkiel-sama every day," she sighed.

Given the fey, chill curve to the boy's lips right now, Lucifer could only agree.

"Actually," Arariel put in, "I might have some people who could help you with coordination." Lucifer wondered whether the gleam in her eye meant worse for their temporary allies or for her own subordinates. "I'm sure Tabris would fit in just fine with your people," she said to Michael, "and from the sound of it Maion might be of assistance to you, Raziel-san. And they could both use some external diplomatic experience."

"Really," Raziel murmured, taking in Arariel's steady look. "Very well."

Michael shrugged, irritably. Arariel grinned for just a moment before recovering her composure. Lucifer stifled a chuckle; Tabris in Michael's orbit was a slightly alarming thought, but if it made Arariel happy...

Raziel turned back to him, where he had been leaning on the fountain and enjoying the show. "I can gather some of the codes, from the minds of the guards or scientists, to open the labs for Michael-san and his people, as I assume you had in mind." Lucifer nodded, silently. "But I doubt I can get all of them; there are too many and no one knows more than a handful." His lips were pale and tight, probably with memory.

Belial stirred. "If one goes with you that will not present an insurmountable problem," she said, carelessly.

Raphael jerked upright. "The hell you will," he exclaimed, urbanity breaking down abruptly.

Belial slanted a look at him, mouth unsmiling. "One is no danger to Lucifer-sama's brother." As Raphael's second edged a little closer to him, Belial's lips gained a slight crook. "Nor to you, now, it seems. It took you long enough. One doesn't think anyone else ever reacted so badly to having the blindfold ripped away, and yet lived. One's compliments."

Raphael snarled, and Lucifer intervened before Belial could answer the sharp swirl of icy wind with something sharper. "Enough. Play your games another time, butterfly."

"As you say, my lord," she agreed, demurely.

"The other strong candidate is the High Council Hall," Lucifer continued, turning back to Uriel. "Yggdrasil seems to be trying to break through there."

"I can well imagine the remaining officers and Councilors have been doing their best to hold that off," Uriel growled. "It would be helpful to have someone to keep them off me while I work."

Arariel crossed her arms. "It would be... most efficient... if I joined Uriel-sama there."

Lucifer examined her hunched shoulders while he considered that. "Ah. That would give you both earth and water, wouldn't it?"

Arariel nodded, silently, without looking up.

"Water?" Raziel asked, voice soft again as his eyes rested on the clearly unhappy Arariel.

"I have charge over mortal waters," she answered. "I can only command the waters of these planes when I'm inside the influence of the Angel of Death." She glanced up at Uriel and back down, dodging the concern in his gaze. "It's an effective combination."

Lucifer eyed her for a long moment. "Fine, if you're willing. No one can command you to do this, Arariel."

She blinked at him. Because, of course, they both knew that he very well could command her; that was one of the terms of her allegiance to him. Her eyes cleared as his message penetrated, though. He would not command her, and no one else had the right, now. She belonged only to the Lord of Hell.

Her mouth twitched. "You have a strange way of comforting people, you know that?" she said, for his ears only.

He shrugged one shoulder. "It works."

She chuckled, and he could see her relax. "I'm willing," she said, raising her voice again.

"That's the two major contenders, then," he said, releasing her.

"Should we take it that you don't actually know where the key point of the blockage is?" Raphael asked, sounding rather jaundiced.

"Yes, you should." Lucifer smiled coolly. "With these two out of the way, I expect it to become more obvious. That will be my business."

Everyone stilled for one moment, reminded of Lucifer's power. Michael broke the tension with a snort.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Lucifer-sama," Barbiel interjected, ignoring Michael's look of absolute betrayal at her respectful tone in favor of squinting upward, "did you invite anyone else to meet here?"

"No." Lucifer followed her gaze, picking out what looked like a dragon, spiraling down towards them.

It flapped down to land in the open space beyond the garden's pillars, and two women dismounted. He recognized both of them and had to wonder what Kurai and her guard captain were doing out here. It didn't look like an accidental meeting. Kurai stalked toward them, swept the assembly with glare and planted her hands on her hips.

"I'm going to kill Jade," she declared. "I don't know how it can be done, but I'll find a way!"

Belial was smiling brilliantly. "And what, one wonders, is the Queen of Evils doing here in the garden of Yggdrasil?" she purred.

Kurai's glare got even sharper. "That is absolutely, positively none of your business," she stated, very firmly.

"Hmm." Belial's presence flickered from Lucifer's side to Kurai's back where she could drape her arms around Kurai's shoulders. "Such vehemence from you to one's humble self could only mean..." she paused, artfully. "Husband-hunting again, already, sweet Queen?"

Kurai turned red and made a sincere attempt to bury her elbow in Belial's stomach. "Shut up!" she hissed. Belial slid aside with sparkling eyes.

"You asked the seer dragon something that personal?" Lucifer's brows climbed. "You have even more guts and less sense than I gave you credit for."

Kurai bared her fangs at him. "Yeah, and look what a wild goose chase she sent me on! Taken," she pointed at Lucifer, "hopeless," at Uriel, "obsessed," at Raziel, "taken," at Raphael, "and you've got to be kidding me," with a sneer at Michael.

"Kurai-sama," Noise sighed, rubbing her forehead.

Lucifer could feel a smirk taking over his mouth. Raziel was sputtering and Michael twitching at this cavalier dismissal. Uriel and Raphael, for once, looked equally speechless. Barbiel was looking smug, and Arariel was laughing so hard she had to lean on the fountain to stay standing. "I suppose," he mused, "she might have thought you didn't give your last marriage a fair chance."

Kurai opened her mouth, closed it again, inhaled mightily, and broke off to whirl and yell at Belial instead. "Quit laughing! That was all your fault!"

"Indubitably," Belial agreed, with a sweeping bow.

"Perhaps," Khamael rumbled, tightening his precautionary grip on a fuming Michael, "we should return to the question of Briah."

Noise raised a brow. "At least one person here has his head screwed on straight," she muttered.

"Briah?" Kurai asked, suddenly serious. "What about Briah?"

Lucifer took in her white-knuckled hands and tight lips. "You've felt it, haven't you?"

"The... the blight?" she whispered, and shivered when he nodded. "Yes. It's like Gehenna was, when Assiah's poison covered it."

"Abe's growth has been blocked. We intend to break that."

"As soon," Raphael put in, "as the Lord of Hell, here, figures out where the keystone is."

Kurai looked up at Lucifer solemnly. "I can find it."

"Majesty!" Noise exclaimed. "That's too dangerous!"

Kurai waved her concern off. "I'm the dragonmaster, Noise, I've been one with them before; it won't hurt me now."

"But in such a dangerous place...! I won't be enough to guard you while you're—" she broke off, shooting suspicious looks at the listeners. Particularly at Michael, Lucifer noted.

Khamael seemed to be the one who understood why. "Our people were not involved, Captain. We took no part in that massacre. You have my word. If you wish assistance guarding your queen in Briah, we will give it."

Noise looked at him, expressionlessly, for a long breath. "I accept your offer," she said, at last. "I'll be in touch about that."

Kurai rolled her eyes, started to say something, and paused. She looked from Noise to Khamael and back, and a huge grin slowly took over her face. She clapped her guard captain on the shoulder. "You do that, Noise, I'm sure it will make you feel better," she said, magnanimously

"There, now, you see how much fun it is?" Belial murmured.

Kurai shook a finger at her. "You be quiet! Don't even think of messing this up!"

"One wouldn't dream of it."

"Looks like everyone will be in touch, then," Lucifer observed, dryly. "This should be good for a laugh, if nothing else."

Arariel had finally stopped snickering and caught her breath. "We're done, then? Lovely." She linked an arm through Belial's. "Then you can come have a drink and tell me exactly what you meant when you said I reminded you of Her Majesty."

Belial went along gracefully enough. "To be sure."

"Lucifer." Uriel came just close enough to both speak quietly and loom effectively. Lucifer's mouth twitched; he knew perfectly well what this was about.

"Let me guess," he suggested. "If Arariel comes to harm you'll wind my guts around your scythe handle." Not that he thought Uriel would actually do it. He was too soft hearted.

"More or less," Uriel agreed.

"After you hurt her already?" Lucifer prodded.

Uriel's eyes turned cold. "I know that she was hurt by my abandonment of my place in the heavens. If you, knowing that, hurt her the same way again, I will come for your soul myself. And not to stuff it in a sword, this time."

Lucifer was moderately impressed by the sincerity in Uriel's flat tone. He smiled slightly, looking around the small group as it split up again. "I gave my body and blood to make Hell habitable to those who followed me and were cast down with me. I didn't abandon them willingly. Besides," he shot a sideways glance at Uriel, "you give Arariel too little credit. She gave me her loyalty; she also demanded mine in return. She's nobody's fool. It's why I accepted her."

"Very well," Uriel said, after a long moment.

Lucifer shook his head as he followed his gossiping lieutenants back toward the way home. If his brother believed, after watching this Rube Goldberg alliance in action, that Lucifer truly wanted absolute rule over every faction of Abe, he would think a lot less of Michael's intelligence. However good a life Setsuna was having in Assiah, Lucifer couldn't help wishing Alexiel would hurry up and wake. Intimidation and keeping people guessing worked well enough, but Alexiel's careless compassion worked better.

TBC (eventually, maybe, sometime)

Homecoming

Alexiel finally returns, to the interest of all and apprehension of some—particularly Lucifer. Romance with Drama, I-3

They gathered quickly, and Belial thought that it was just like Alexiel's latest incarnation to not give any warning. The room was small enough, and the interested parties many enough, that aides and seconds had been left outside, but that had never stopped Belial before, and se watched from a slice of shadow in one corner.

Kurai didn't exactly pace, but she hovered at two distances, and flitted from one to the other every now and then. Gabriel, by contrast, stood calmly beside Alexiel's body. Of course, Gabriel had done this herself just a year ago. Raziel sat behind her, equally calm; of course, he had never met Alexiel, only Setsuna. Michael fidgeted, on the far side of Raphael from his brother. And Lucifer and Uriel held up opposite walls, both about as far from Alexiel as they could get without leaving the room.

Belial sighed. Se hoped, for hir lord's sake, this would go well.

And then hir glance sharpened, because hir sigh had been echoed by one from Alexiel. Kurai spun around so fast she wobbled, poised at her distant hovering spot. After one more moment of utter stillness, Alexiel drew in a deep breath. As she exhaled her eyes opened.

Belial watched Lucifer exhale with her.

Alexiel rubbed a hand across her eyes and yawned. "Where?" she mumbled, and then blinked at the crowd surrounding her. "Oh. Right."

Gabriel laughed. "Welcome back, Alexiel." She put a quick hand behind Alexiel's shoulder as she started to sit up. "Take it a little slowly. You weren't sealed, this time, it may take a while to settle back in."

Raphael waved a dismissive hand. "The strength of her spirit will draw the body around itself immediately. No need to worry about her."

"Love you, too, Raphie-kun," Alexiel muttered, flipping him off with the hand not rubbing her face.

Kurai made a small noise, at that, hope lighting her eyes. Alexiel looked around and smiled. "Kurai." When that failed to make Kurai stop chewing on her lip, Alexiel's smile softened and tilted. "Hey, kiddo." She held out her arms.

Belial shook hir head as Kurai took two running steps and flung herself into Alexiel's embrace. It would do no one any good to lead the girl on.

"I missed you," Alexiel said, gently. "Both of me."

Kurai looked up, one crystal blue eye showing under her rumpled hair. "Really?"

"Really," Alexiel laughed, and ruffled Kurai's hair some more.

Kurai giggled, and backed away. "Okay." Her eyes were clear again.

Belial's estimation of Alexiel rose. Maybe this would fail to be a catastrophe after all.

Alexiel swung herself off the plinth and stood, but her stretch was interrupted as her eyes fell on Lucifer, still leaning against the wall silently. "You came," she whispered.

Lucifer returned her gaze, eyes hooded. "It seemed polite to give you a clear opportunity, in case you wanted to try killing me again. Consider it your homecoming present."

Belial had to wonder, as Alexiel stood frozen, whether she could see past the sardonic chill to the genuine offer underneath it. If Alexiel really did want Lucifer's life, for the sake of the world or the sake of a grudge, he would give it to her this time.

As Alexiel paced toward him, through a room full of people holding their breaths, Belial wondered whether she was going to take him up on it.

Alexiel stopped a hand's breadth away, glaring up at him with stormy eyes.

And then she reached out and hauled him into a rib-cracking hug, burying her face in his shoulder. "You are such an asshole," she declared, a bit muffled.

Lucifer's eyes widened, and Belial saw him swallow before his hands lifted, hesitant and slow, to settle on Alexiel's back. "Careful," he said, voice just a little uneven. "You'll have me calling you Setsuna if you keep talking like that."

"Fair enough." Alexiel sniffed. "Kira-senpai."

"Not anymore."

"I know."

Lucifer's eyes darkened, and he ran one hand, slowly, through her long, thick hair.

Alexiel stiffened abruptly, at that, and lifted her head. Belial caught a flash of apprehension in her face.

Lucifer shook his head. "I know why you didn't tell me who I was." His mouth twisted. "Or that I had already had my wish, more than once, in Eden."

The tangle of sorrow and anger and tenderness plain to see in Alexiel's expression was a match for the tangle lurking in Lucifer's eyes. Belial wondered whether it was uncharitable or just accurate to think that they deserved each other.

"What... what if I ask, first, this time?" Alexiel said at last, voice wavering.

Lucifer's snort was a bit pained, but the arms around Alexiel tightened without reserve. "You have me, idiot," he murmured. "You've always had me."

Belial had to look away when their lips met. The kiss was too hesitant, too heavy, too beautiful with hir lord's relief. It made hir dizzy to watch. So se watched the other watchers instead, and hir lips quirked as se took in the generally indulgent expressions on their faces.

Se wondered how many of them realized that Abe's real ruler was home now.

End

Watermark

Alexiel has a talk with Hatter. Hatter is unexpectedly drawn in. Shameless wingfic. Drama, I-3

There were times when Belial really rather envied the Evils their wings. Not only did Kurai's wings, for example, come out in lovely stained-glass colors, but they were also smooth.

Belial's wings, like the wings of any angel, were feathered.

And most of the time Belial quite liked hir feathers. Feathers made for expressive wings, and loose feathers made an excellent remote vehicle of power. It could not be denied, however, that feathers had some unavoidable drawbacks, one of which was to clump sadly when wet.

Few things looked as utterly ridiculous as an angel, fallen or otherwise, in the process of washing its wings.

It was for this reason that Belial liked to have a bathing room to hirself when washing hir wings, and se took some trouble to ensure that se did, even in the current, unsettled spatial conditions that made it uncertain where any door would go or who might come through it. So hir moment of frozen shock, when the door opened, someone having not only seen it through the illusion Belial laid over the entry but also gotten past it, was, perhaps, understandable.

Belial stood and dripped, having just dunked hir wings for the last time, and stared at Alexiel's smile. A dispassionate corner of hir mind noted that Alexiel probably hadn't even noticed the spells on the door.

"Hatter! I hadn't realized anyone was in here."

Belial tried not to grind hir teeth. "One was just finishing," se said, stepping up out of the water. "Don't let one interrupt you."

"Not at all." Alexiel slid into the water with a pleased sigh. "It can be nice to have company."

Belial made a noncommittal noise, wondering a bit grumpily how Alexiel had retained Setsuna's obliviousness. Se dried off briskly, and then had to pause, caught in a dilemma. Hir wings were sodden. Se couldn't close them, like this, it would be extremely uncomfortable in that annoyingly disembodied way of closed wings. They would take hours to dry, if se just left them wet. But one of the only things that looked sillier than an angel with soaking wet wings was an angel shaking its wings halfway dry. The hopping and shimmying involved came close to embarrassing hir even when se was alone. Which se was most definitely not, at the moment. Belial set hir jaw and made for hir robe. Hours it was.

"You're not going to just leave your wings like that, are you?" Alexiel sounded startled, with, Belial had to admit, some justification.

"One is going out in the sun; they'll dry nicely there," se answered shortly.

A snort came from behind hir. "Don't be silly, you should at least brush them out, or they'll dry itchy." There was a splash. "Here. Sit down, and I'll help." Alexiel padded past hir, pushing Belial down onto a pile of towels with a casual hand on hir shoulder. She rummaged an oiled feather comb out of the bathing room shelves while Belial sat, nonplussed, and came back to settle down behind hir.

"You... but..." Belial sputtered, taken completely aback by the offer. No one touched hir wings, that was... Se started as Alexiel laid a steadying hand on the upper curve of one wing, starting at the top. A shiver ran down exquisitely sensitive skin at the touch. Se looked over hir shoulder, eyes a little wide. "What are you doing?" se asked, softly.

Alexiel glanced up, and made a wry face. "I'm not trying to seduce you, Hatter, calm down. I'm just helping you groom your wings. That's all." She turned her attention back to preening the feathers. "Haven't you had friends help comb your wings before?"

After a long moment, Belial murmured, "No."

Alexiel's movements stilled, though she didn't look up again. "For a long time, neither did I," she said, at last. And then added, "Try to relax enough to let your other wing down, at least. You'll cramp up if you hold it up wet the whole time."

Too flustered by the unaccustomed ripples of sensation under Alexiel's fingers to come up with a good argument, Belial slowly lowered hir other wing.

Alexiel's hands were gentle, careful fingers easing the wet feathers apart and brushing them dry. "One was not expecting you in one's bath," Belial observed, just to fill the quiet around them.

Alexiel chuckled. "Well, I thought I was heading for my own, but this is where I wound up." She sighed, fingertips stroking damp feathers back into place. "The land has a mind of its own, no question."

Belial's mouth quirked. "As does much of the Creator's work. A pleasing irony one feels."

That came out rather more husky than se had intended.

Alexiel patted the wing she was combing and Belial could hear the smile in her voice. "There. I told you you could relax." Belial shuddered as Alexiel's hands stroked over hir still-wet wing and Alexiel paused. "Or maybe not. Come on, now, Hatter, that won't do." Her hands slipped up to Belial's bare back, kneading gently around hir wings.

Belial bit back a gasp. Alexiel's hands were so warm se was sure there was magic in them; it felt like her fingers were sliding into Belial's back, under hir skin, stroking hir body into a different shape. "Alexiel..." Se made to draw away, alarmed at the idea of what the Organic Angel's power could do, even to hir.

Alexiel's hands slipped up over hir shoulders, holding her there effortlessly. "Shh, now. It's all right, Hatter, I'll be careful; promise. Wow you're knotted up back here! You need to take better care of yourself, you know."

The casual, thoughtless caring that Setsuna's life had left Alexiel with might amuse the erstwhile Lord of Hell, but Belial had yet to figure out just how to deal with it. So, once again, se dealt with it by doing nothing.

Of course, that left hir draped over a bathing room bench, increasingly limp and breathless, while Alexiel's hands moved over hir wings, her power stroking over Belial's slow and gentle and intimate.

Hir strategy could, perhaps, do with a little revision, at some point.

"I'm glad that you took care of him, you know," Alexiel murmured. "Lucifer," she added when Belial made an inquiring sound. Her rich voice trembled with amusement. "Even when it meant you were trying to bring my incarnation under your power."

"He is one's lord," Belial whispered. And then more sarcastically, rallying a bit, "One is overcome with gratitude for your merciful forgiveness."

Alexiel laughed, breath ruffling Belial's feathers, making hir shiver. "I didn't say a word about forgiving you for it. I just said I'm glad."

Her honesty, the truth of her words, transfixed Belial and se made a soft, breathless sound as the thrill of that blunt truth twined around the sensation of Alexiel's hands on hir wings.

"Ah. So that's what it is with you, hm?" Alexiel stroked Belial's wings open and smooth one last time and stood. "And you hide your taste for honesty behind a face of trickery."

Alexiel's perception made Belial gasp and se didn't resist when Alexiel bent over hir and lifted hir face in warm hands. "Perhaps I see why he calls you a foolish butterfly." Her lips pressed against Belial's forehead. "I'll remember." Her stern beauty slid into a wry smile and Belial blinked. "And I meant what I said. You should take better care of yourself."

Belial couldn't find words to answer and Alexiel brushed gentle fingers through hir hair and left hir, breathless and undone on the floor of the bathing room.

Belial sprawled in an armchair, staring at the feather se played through hir fingers.

Normally, hir feathers were a very pleasing black. Se had never decided whether the fallen angels' wings had turned black in an act of will and allegiance to Lucifer or whether it was simply the Creator's taste for gratuitous symbolism, but se had always found it satisfying to match hir lord.

Now, though, the very tips of them glowed with vibrant light. As far as se could tell, it was a perfect match for the color of Alexiel's wings.

Se looked like hir wings had been dipped in Alexiel's color.

Belial held the feather up to the light. "I do not belong to her," se told it. "I belong only to my lord."

The white edge of the feather glinted like a smile.

End