Uriel shivered involuntarily as he recognized the voice. Mictain.
He listened to the demon's words, fearful, wanting Mictain to simply stop. However, that was obviously not an option. The harsh words wandered through his ears and into his mind, finding and mingling with the doubts and self-blame already deeply rooted in his mind.
The feelings from his first encounter with Pestilence were back. He remembered the feeling of worthlessness, the shame that had come from a mix of his own insecurities, his insanity -- for there most certainly was such a thing --, and his recent experiences. Oh, but he was a whore indeed, wasn't he? He was sleeping with the first person who had ever shown serious interest in him.
And -- no, that wasn't true. He wasn't a whore no matter what he did with Pestilence. He had sex with the horseman because he enjoyed his company, enjoyed talking with him, being with him. And Pestilence felt the same way about him. Pestilence cared about him.
He had to.
He wasn't a whore. Mictain was lying. He was a demon and demons lied.
He followed the interaction between Pestilence and Mictain almost desperately, as if missing one word would mean loss to the horseman. Given Mictain's battle experience, that would most probably be the case.
Pestilence motioned for him to get away, but he hesitated. He didn't want to leave Pestilence alone, but.... He feared Mictain. It was not easy to admit it, but he did -- not only the demon himself, but also everything he symbolized, all the painful memories his presence made him recall. All the Falls. The loss of Presence.
He wouldn't Fall. That was just one of Mictain's lies. If He had disapproved, he would have known. There was no way he could have missed Him being dissatisfied with him. He still had His Presence...
His Presence. That was it. He was an angel -- an archangel, even. If need be, he could probably take Mictain down -- at least for long enough for Pestilence and him to escape. He should stay and see that nothing went wrong, at least.
Except that just then Pestilence again motioned for him to go away. This time he almost obeyed immediately, his fear for Mictain and what he represented surfacing without fail, but then he realized that if he left, Pestilence would be left alone to face Mictain. And he wouldn't have the help of holiness within him. Beating him bloody probably wouldn't take Mictain more than a moment.
Finally he made his decision. Quickly moving away, he hid behind the nearest corner, where he was out of sight at the moment but could notice if Mictain got physical. And then he'd step in, no matter how much he feared the demon. He would never, never allow Pestilence to come to harm because of him.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-03-30 05:28 am (UTC)He listened to the demon's words, fearful, wanting Mictain to simply stop. However, that was obviously not an option. The harsh words wandered through his ears and into his mind, finding and mingling with the doubts and self-blame already deeply rooted in his mind.
The feelings from his first encounter with Pestilence were back. He remembered the feeling of worthlessness, the shame that had come from a mix of his own insecurities, his insanity -- for there most certainly was such a thing --, and his recent experiences. Oh, but he was a whore indeed, wasn't he? He was sleeping with the first person who had ever shown serious interest in him.
And -- no, that wasn't true. He wasn't a whore no matter what he did with Pestilence. He had sex with the horseman because he enjoyed his company, enjoyed talking with him, being with him. And Pestilence felt the same way about him. Pestilence cared about him.
He had to.
He wasn't a whore. Mictain was lying. He was a demon and demons lied.
He followed the interaction between Pestilence and Mictain almost desperately, as if missing one word would mean loss to the horseman. Given Mictain's battle experience, that would most probably be the case.
Pestilence motioned for him to get away, but he hesitated. He didn't want to leave Pestilence alone, but.... He feared Mictain. It was not easy to admit it, but he did -- not only the demon himself, but also everything he symbolized, all the painful memories his presence made him recall. All the Falls. The loss of Presence.
He wouldn't Fall. That was just one of Mictain's lies. If He had disapproved, he would have known. There was no way he could have missed Him being dissatisfied with him. He still had His Presence...
His Presence. That was it. He was an angel -- an archangel, even. If need be, he could probably take Mictain down -- at least for long enough for Pestilence and him to escape. He should stay and see that nothing went wrong, at least.
Except that just then Pestilence again motioned for him to go away. This time he almost obeyed immediately, his fear for Mictain and what he represented surfacing without fail, but then he realized that if he left, Pestilence would be left alone to face Mictain. And he wouldn't have the help of holiness within him. Beating him bloody probably wouldn't take Mictain more than a moment.
Finally he made his decision. Quickly moving away, he hid behind the nearest corner, where he was out of sight at the moment but could notice if Mictain got physical. And then he'd step in, no matter how much he feared the demon. He would never, never allow Pestilence to come to harm because of him.