#itherael

Forgot I had this

“What do humans do that makes angels happy?”😎

😆In this thread, Itherael and Auriel can make an appearance as well! 😆

"Unity in all things" and at the end, Valor became Wrath and Fate, was broken.

---------READ THE FIC-------------

Then There Were Five - page 14

Diablo III fancomic

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Come on, Mal! Be a good big brother! It takes a Silver City to raise an underdeveloped archangel.

"Imperius."

The monotone voice didn't startle him, because the culmination of Heaven's bravery and strength couldn't be startled. Yet Imperius wasn't expecting the interruption, was in fact engrossed in calculating death-toll and the time it would take to recover their losses. He glanced over his wing to see the intruder, and didn't mind the presence; it was only Itherael.

Fate itself floated before him. For once, their scroll was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, they had what looked like an armor-maintenance kit in their hands. Strange; Itherael was usually not so interested in their own upkeep, but to be fair, their robes and armor was rarely in dissarray. Even now they gleamed in his office's soft light.

Not like Imperius, whose hide had been buffed out and rebuilt so many times it was basically a new set of armor every few years. Even now it was cracked and scuffed from their last (recently concluded) battle, and lacked the luster typically associated with Archangels. One of his gauntlets was completely missing even.

The only time Imperius was busier than planning a battle, was cleaning it up.

"Yes? What do you need Itherael?" Imperius turned to give them his full attention. It wasn't something he afforded many. "How fair your host? I had read their after-action reports, but if there's something that has been missed, do tell me."

"Have you a moment to yourself?" The other archangel floated closer to him. And completely glossed over his question.

Imperius really didn't... but he could make it so.

"I can." He offered. "And you know that." Despite himself, Imperius was not displeased to have Itherael pestering him for time. Even if he was a busy angel; they deserved his attention.

"Good." Itherael set their kit down on the desk, right on top of the scroll Imperius was reading.

"Ah-"

"My host is well." The other angel explained as they pulled out tongs and buffers, a torch and polish. "The rest of the Heavens are recovering. Everyone's needs are being seen to."

They lit the torch with a click of a striker, and peered down at Imperius.

"Except you."

"...I am well." Imperius tried to protest, after a stunned moment.

"You are dented." Itherael corrected. And their fingers were oh-so gentle when they traced the crimped metal of Imperius's helmet. He'd taken a hammer to the face; all things considered, he was feeling quite fine.

"I don't need-"

"You do." Fate itself silenced any protests. "Let me take care of it. Since you clearly will not." Even when their voice was as emotionless as ever, Imeprius could hear the fond exasperation. He couldn't help himself, and laughed. The disapproving trill from his partner was precious, as the crimp they'd begun smoothing out was juttered from their hands.