Chapter Text
“Judgement, dear, could we talk in the kitchen after dinner?”
It was an innocent, if loaded, question to ask as we put out the plates but I was met with uncharacteristic silence. A quick glance at her face only rewarded me with a suspicious glare from her blazing eyes. I wasn’t concerned, her lack of an outright denial was answer enough and neither of us pressed the subject as members of our household noisily filled the dining room.
Dinner went well. I decided to try a modern spin on an old recipe and soon enough we had roast hog with a sweet chilli glaze and vegetables roasted in the pork fat. I may have neglected to mention the use of ghost chillies in the glaze until my Taker almost spat it out in surprise. To his credit, he ate his entire portion and even seemed to be enjoying it near the end. Azazel only ate about half, and only with copious amounts of milk. Zdrada, on the other hand, loved it and inhaled her second helping as smoke poured out of her nostrils from the heat. It gave the room a rather ominous vibe. A horror movie BBQ, perhaps? Judgement was silent throughout, not even chiding Cerberus for attempting to leap onto the table to tear into the hog centerpiece with her teeth. She must be nervous.
A small mountain of plates, a forest of cutlery, and numerous oven trays were stacked up in the kitchen ready for washing. Taker offered to handle it but I needed some privacy for this conversation.
“Thank you for dinner.” A quiet voice from behind me breaks me from my thoughts. I sigh a little, and turn to see Judgement leaning against the far wall. Very nervous.
“Of course, and thank you for agreeing to talk with me.” She doesn’t respond. I give her as gentle a smile as I can manage and open a cupboard and fetch a bottle of wine that Justice got me as a joke: ‘Bat’s Blood’. As the silence stretches on, I pour a glass and offer it to her. She crosses her arms and shakes her head. Leaning against the counter, I raise the glass to my own lips and have a sip. Loganberry and… Vanilla. Odd.
Exhaling slowly as I try to relax for what I’m sure will be a difficult conversation, I meet Judgement’s eye and start.
“I wanted to talk to you because of our shared experience, as Fallen.”
Her neutral expression, forcedly so, tightens.
“We are not kin, Snake.” Her voice is low, and venomous.
“I disagree, but nevertheless something has come up that demands our attention, and I know you’re going to want a say in how it’s handled.”
“and why is that?”
“Because I got it wrong with you.” Shock washes over her features before being swiftly replaced with fury as she processes my insinuation. A slashing gesture towards the door barricades it as her chains fill the room, embedding themselves into the walls, ceiling and floor. She slowly walks towards me, stopping a few feet away as chains of the horizontal, vertical and diagonal variety completely ‘trap’ me in this corner.
“WHO HAVE YOU DESECRATED NOW?!”
Maintaining an unimpressed mask, I scan her metallic web and sip my wine. The door is completely blocked, the center of the room has an oblong bubble allowing her some free movement, and the majority of the chains stop just shy of me; quivering and glowing with the hellfire forged into them. The others are still and dull. I take a long breath through my nose. She’s afraid and trying to compensate. Don’t retaliate.
“Have you noticed anything unusual with Azazel? Familiar, perhaps?”
Her right eye twitches but she doesn’t respond.
“I’ve heard from Zdrada that she’s using black dye to cover greying hairs. According to Justice, she’s starting to grow horns. She’s in denial, insisting that Falling is a fiction invented by the church to scare young angels into obedience-”
The chains only glow hotter and snap around me, a muted burning sensation around my bare arms and neck as she tries to wrap me up like a cocoon. Were I a mortal, I would have instantly turned to ash. My glass shatters, pulverized by the heat and constricting pressure, the wine sizzling as it drips over the hot metal links. Forcing down my anger and ignoring the pain, I continue.
“Judgement, I know you probably don’t believe me, but I had nothing to do with that. Taker and I have both taken great pains to ensure that she can maintain her allegiance to Heaven. Multiple, exhaustive conversations with Modeus, Pandemonica and Zdrada on how her boundaries are to be respected and not to be pushed. He has not fucked her or corrupted her, and neither have I. Now, you are going to release me and we are going to continue this conversation like adults or so help me you will pay for ruining our three-day streak of no broken dishes.” I can see my irises, a‘glow like Hell’s embers, reflected in Judgement’s eyes.
She breaks eye contact first, flushed with anger, and the chains she spun up fall away and disintegrate. Only the ones sealing the door remain. She turns away and leans on the far counter, the claws of her gloves digging into the granite counter-top so hard I can almost hear the shrieking metal. Her shoulders are shaking.
Exhaling with relief, I fetch another glass and pour myself some more. Opening another cupboard, one with a Heroes 3 sticker on it (i.e. Malina’s secondary alcohol cupboard), I find a small bottle of Zubrowka vodka and slide it over to Judgement. Her talons grab it by instinct and she gives me a disapproving glance.
“I’ll buy her more. Just drink it.”
I take a long sip of the wine and close my eyes for a moment, willing my demonic biology to heal the red welts on my skin. I hear Judgement ripping off the cap and downing half of the bottle, before slamming it back down on the counter. My eyes open as my pale hue reclaims its lost territory.
“As I was saying… both Zdrada and Justice have tried to tell her the obvious, but she refuses to listen. What’s more, Modeus saw her packing earlier today. I think she’s going to try to return to Heaven, if she’s convinced that she’s suffering some illness.”
“You want me to stop her?” Her voice is heavy with resignation. She’s staring at the counter, her back to me still.
“No. I want to, gently, break it to her what’s actually happening and let her go from there.”
“and if she chooses to reject Falling, reject you?”
“Heaven might kill her. Or they’ll send us another scapegoat and break that poor girl’s heart.”
“So, you want to force it on her, for the greater good?” Sarcasm drips from her words
I swallow back my retort, knowing that her ire is well deserved. “Judgement, she…. belongs with us.” I’m given a snort of laughter in response. “No, hear me out. What was she doing in Hell to begin with? What is her stated reason for joining the harem? She wanted to ‘research demons’, right? Well, what has she done now that she has had ample opportunity to study us, up close? She’s been drooling over our chests, stalking us, acting as a fucking camera-woman when Justice and Modeus decided to impersonate human-law enforcement so they could recreate pornography!”
A deeper blush creeps over Judgement’s neck and cheeks, colouring her stony skin as my diatribe continues.
“Judgement, she is -to borrow modern human terminology- a ‘useless lesbian’ who can’t seem to help herself around us. Besides, lusting for demons is hardly her only vice. She can’t seem to stop herself from trying to gather more knowledge that Heaven’s laws forbid. Any roadblock in her personal morality is quickly sidestepped with some mental gymnastics about how she is ‘serving Heaven’s best interests’. She has convinced herself that her motivations for her ‘research’ are ‘pure’, and that her ‘purity’ as an angel is unassailable. We know better, and so does Heaven. For how long can this charade go on?”
A long silence follows my words. Judgement turns around and lifts herself up to sit on the countertop, her clawed gauntlets clasped together as she thinks.
I swirl my glass and inhale its bouquet, reconsidering if I should have included Judgement in this.
“Can Heaven undo an unfinished Fall? Can she be… purified?” I look up. She’s watching me with an intense, guarded expression. I sigh heavily, I know what she really means.
“It may be possible, Judgement, but I’ve never seen them try. Heaven is convinced that the taint of Sin, when their courts have ruled it to be present, is both damning and eternal. I was not offered a chance to reform or to be ‘cured’ before they took my wings. No other Fallen has been, either.” Judgement winces at the reminder. “Regardless, to ‘purify’ Azazel would require them to fundamentally change who she is. She is unable to contain her excesses, so they would have to change her desires. Would it not just be another form of murder? A different angel would walk away.”
More silence, and she reaches for the vodka and downs the rest.
“I didn’t properly answer your previous question. Once she understands what’s happening to her, and that part is non-negotiable, and she refuses to just let it happen and join us, I will not force it upon her.”
“Perhaps you’re just trying to speed it up, you’re trying pretty hard to convince me that it’s in her best interest.” Resentment boils in her voice as she makes her accusation.
“… If that was my intention, all I would have to do is tell her that having horns and white hair would help her integrate with demons better, for the sake of her ‘research’, and leave her in denial. She would do the rest for me, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. It would be so easy.” I sigh.
“I do not like that tone, Snake. You want to.”
I’m growing more than a little irritated by Judgement’s insolence. “Of course, I want to! Such a sweet, naïve little lamb so easily guided away from Heaven’s camp.” I retort. “I could snap my damn fingers and Heaven’s lost their spy in my house!”
“SHE’S NOT A TOY FOR YOU TO PLAY WITH!”
“I KNOW!” I set down the glass, still half full, and grip the countertop behind me as I glare back at my mistake. You deserve this. Prove that you’ve changed. I push myself off the counter and close the distance between us. She shrinks back, and I stop.
“Judgement…. I regret what I did to you, and I don’t want to do it to anyone else. I thought I was helping you, doing you a favour, even if it was with a trick… but you’ve never seen it that way. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. Please, help me. Help me do the right thing this time.”
She leans forward and buries her face in her claws, the points piercing the skin and bone of her forehead and temples as her fingers tighten in the gauntlets. I almost speak out, but I sense that I should wait. With a shuddering motion as her silent screaming dies down, she drops her hands and looks up, lazy rivers of red running down her face.
“How are you going to break it to her?” Her tone is business-like. We’ve gone as far as we’re going to today about our history, it seems.
“According to Justice, she pointed to both of us as examples of Fallen but Azazel denied it all the same. I’m going to take Azazel aside, ensure she’s comfortable, and prove to her that my legends in Heaven are at least partially true.”
“How?”
I grimace. “My scars should suffice.”
“I should do it.” She nods. The puncture wounds in her face have already healed, just streaks of blood remain.
Damn it. Don’t overrule her, persuade her “I think it would be best if I did that, Judgement.”
“Why?” Her face was once more twisting with anger. It’s going to take a long time for her to ever trust me.
“It is, and for good reason, a very painful subject for you. Your biases and feelings on the subject will be obvious to her, and emotions instead of reason could influence her decision. Not to mention that my authority as Queen, and my position as de facto Archenemy of Heaven, makes it harder for her to dismiss the truth if she just thinks the Church is lying. Judgement…. Darling… you are about as subtle as a hammer. You know full well how subtle I can be. Let me open her eyes gently. A poorly handled existential crisis will not help her right now. Please.”
I wish I could say I’m not used to having to constantly deescalate tensions within my staff, but this household is an interpersonal minefield, nay, a warzone. What I am not used to, however, is having to be so patient and gentle about it with anyone other than our Taker.
More silence greets me, and I go back to fetch my wine glass. Draining it in a few gulps, I refill it. I’ll need to get Justice to try some of this. It’s growing on me, slightly.
“Another.”
“Hm?”
“Another vodka.” Now she just sounds depressed.
“Of course.”
Opening Malina’s cupboard again -May as well, I’m already paying out for a new glass and the Zubrowka- I slide the 1Ltr bottle of Rokita to Judgement, who rips off the metal cap and crushes it before downing a quarter of it. Oh Judgement, you never were one to drink to excess…
We both stand there, ‘enjoying’ our drinks, for a while.
“I want a deal.”
I cock my head in surprise. “Oh?”
“I don’t trust you, but I do trust your deals.”
I silently cede the point, I do have a well-maintained reputation as a demon of my word, but I can’t help but smile at the irony as I roll up my red shirt sleeves. “Go on….”
“I will let you handle Azazel’s falling, and defer to your judgement-” The corner of my mouth twitches at the pun. “-Shut up! I will defer to your judgement, but there are conditions. You are to explicitly give your, and anyone else’s, opinion on what she should do as just opinions and give them separately to the facts. You are not to otherwise try to persuade her to Fall. You are not to act to stop her if she decides to go back to Heaven, and you’re to prevent others from trying to stop her… except for myself.”
A raised eyebrow and a glare is my only response to the final condition.
“I’m the person who is most opposed to her Falling, if I am persuaded that she should be stopped from returning to Heaven, than it is definitely in her best interests.”
“So… this isn’t about the moral principle of her being able to make her own choices, but rather that only you can be trusted to make choices for her?”
“I wouldn’t try to imprison her if it’s obvious suicide, just try to persuade her! Delay her if I have to…” Her tone is defensive, evasive even.
“and how is that, fundamentally, any different from me doing the same?”
“...”
“because it’s me?” I offer.
“...”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and growl under my breath. Yes, a very difficult fucking conversation!
“Judgement, this isn’t you thinking rationally, you are being blinded by your pain. You and I will, together, make sure that Azazel does NOT experience what you experienced because of me. You are quite justified in being sceptical of my involvement but your determination to prevent a repeat of what happened to you is leading you to forget that, as you say, the person who ultimately should make personal choices for Azazel is Azazel. The only person you have the right to make personal choices for is yourself.
“So, I will agree to your deal, provided that the final clause is amended to ‘preventing anyone else from trying to stop her, including you’. How about that?”
“Fine. I also want a report from you after you’ve had your talk with her.”
“You want me to report to you?!”
“Just once. We can agree on what to do afterwards.” Judgement cooly meets my incredulous gaze.
Suppressing my laughter, I nod. “Fine, deal. 'My Judgement'.”
She grits her teeth into a snarl and reaches forward to clasp my arm, which grabs her back. My evil grin matches her snarl as her claws and my nails pierce skin and draw blood. Both of our eyes momentarily glow brighter as the deal is sealed.
Releasing each other after slightly more pain-infliction than is strictly necessary for the pact to be made, the tense atmosphere in the room seems to have significantly improved. Smiling brightly, I check my gunmetal pocket watch and fetch my glass and the bottle as Judgement dematerializes the chains holding the kitchen door shut. 7:20pm. Plenty of time to deal with our curious little angel…
“Your Majesty?” She’s suddenly behind me.
“Yes, High Prosecutor?” I match her formal tone, turning. She sounds nervous again.
“Thank you, and….” She trails off, looking away and trying to muster the words I know she loathes to say to me.
I step forward and carefully wrap my arms around her, my hands still full of glass. She stiffens, before forcing herself to relax and awkwardly reciprocate.
“I know, Judgement, and it’s okay. You’re forgiven, and I will keep working to earn yours, even if it takes until your horns pale.” I kiss her cheek and disengage as she freezes and I make for the door
“Now, I need to draw a bath and have a conversation with our mutual interest, so I trust you won’t mind doing the dishes for me? Do try not to scratch any of them, of course.” I laugh at her horrified expression as she first looks to the beloved clawed gauntlets she never removes, and then the small mountain of ceramic, glass and silverware, and realizes she has no way out of this. Closing the door gently behind me, I sip my wine and go forth to conquer. It’s good to be the Devil.