Support Your Tyrant…Even If You Don’t Want To
It was a rolled parchment which was getting the odd looks from the two people in the room. It wasn’t doing anything entertaining, just sitting on the table, as a parchment is wont to do.
"Well, we’ve got to open it," Betre said. The Devil ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. The sentence got him a nasty look from Ax.
The Malefactor sat backwards in a chair, regarding the parchment. "Why? Just leave the damn thing alone, and let the fae sort it out," he muttered. Ax shot a harsh glare at Betre before pointedly turning his chair around to face the window. "It’s not our problem."
"No, it’s Jonas’s problem, and we are going to help him. This has already caused enough trouble. I know you’re upset about his design, and I understand that, but this is a list of requirements he has to fulfill, and we are going to help him fulfill those." Betre frowned, his light green eyes hard. "You, especially, if anything here needs to be forged."
"And if I don’t want to forge anything else? I already did the fucking torque and ring. What else do you want from me? Blood?"
The Devil sneered as he unrolled the parchment. "The way you’re acting, it would probably whine and bitch the whole time I was drawing it." He turned his sharp gaze to the scroll, scanning lines of calligraphy with a practiced eye. "And you are going to be forging. Honoria will need armor and a sword." He paused, looking at the back of Ax’s head. "And none of this creating flaws that will show up later. This will reflect on Jonas, so do your best work."
The chair was flung aside suddenly, crashing into a nearby end table, sending a lamp flying. "Will you get off my fucking neck already?!? Why don’t you go in there and make a fucking sword? She’s worn my armor, she’s wearing a ring he designed and I made, and now you want MORE armor and a blade? Make it your fucking self!"
Betre listened calmly to the tirade, one eyebrow uplifted. "So you care so little for our tyrant you’d let him struggle to fulfill something he’s chosen to do, when we could assist him? Very well, I will call Luther or Marius, whoever isn’t busy at the moment, and ask them to help me. You go have your mental pity party, and I’ll see to Jonas’s needs." His tone was icy, and the way he rolled up the parchment was a blatant gesture of dismissal.
Ax’s hand shot out, grabbing the Devil’s silk tie, and dragged him close, nearly brushing their noses together. "You call either of them, and Luther will find your body on his fucking desk. This is not their problem, either, and the more people we yank into this clusterfuck, the worse it’s gonna get."
Betre stared him down, unblinking, completely passive. "Oh? How would they do worse than you? At least their apathy towards the situation is less destructive than your perpetual hostility towards Honoria. I do not understand why you loathe her so much, and in all truth, I don’t care. If you continue to make life difficult for Jonas, I will ‘fix’ your issue."
The Malefactor snarled, releasing Betre’s tie with a snap of his wrist. "Fine. I’ll make the fucking armor, and I’ll even make a damn sword. The next time you hint that I’m trying to screw things up for Jonas, I’ll kill you. I just want you to know that now." He spit, neatly and accurately, onto the Devil’s highly polished shoe. "So go crawl through loopholes while I forge for the bitch." His steps were heavy enough to rattle the china in the kitchen cupboards, and the slam of his forge door left Betre’s ears ringing. The Devil sighed, looking at his shoe, then delicately wiped the spittle off with a paper napkin. Glancing at the parchment again, he headed into the main office, already making a mental checklist.
Neither demon noticed the child standing quietly in the kitchen. Iris Foster remained motionless for long moments while Betre’s voice floated from the office, and the sound of hammering came from within the forge. She wiped the tears from her face with a dishtowel, and choked back another sob. Quietly, she snuck past the office’s open door and slid into her room with a click of the lock.