1.14 & 1.15

-14-

As Zuko looked around Loki’s library, he felt an innate sense of dread.  This was the first time in all of the years that he had served in the halls of the Hells that Loki had commanded his counsel under Lord Lucias’ direction.  He knew that it didn’t bode well for him that he was doing so now.

            Lord Raziel might have succeeded Lord Lucias’ crown.  But that didn’t mean that the Gods who served Lord Raziel didn’t realize who, ultimately, was in charge.  Exiled or not, if Lord Lucias demanded something of one of his Gods, that God would snap to the minute that they received the order and do as Lord Lucias bid.

            Zuko had long suspected the time would come when he would have to pay for siding against Lord Lucias during the war.  He had been so young—and so stupid—then.  And his only excuse for taking arms on the wrong side of things was that he had chosen the wrong set of friends whilst trying to find the place where he would, ultimately, belong.

            He had believed everything that his friends had told him.  Yet, over the course of the war, he’d come to realize that his friends were exactly the people against whom Lord Lucias was rebelling.   Now he was the only one of that crowd left.  The rest of them had long since been relieved of their duties and now lived on the thirteenth level of Hell, which was the level reserved for the damned.

            “Zuko.”  Zuko started at the sound of Loki’s voice.  He turned in the direction of the book shelf that had opened and gave Loki a quizzical smile.  “Sorry I’m late.”

            “How may I help you?”

            Loki ran his large hand through his short brown hair as he shut the book case behind himself.  Zuko thought that he heard screams coming from that direction.  Knowing where that door led, he shivered.

            “Can I offer you a drink?”

            “No.”  Zuko shook his head.  The son of a toxically abusive alcoholic, Zuko had never been one to imbibe.  “What does Lord Lucias require of me?”

            Loki’s brow furrowed.  “Right to the point?”

            “Yes.”  Zuko replied, watching Loki as he slid around his desk and fell into the chair on the other side.  He looked tired.  And in a foul mood.  Zuko realized, looking upon him, that he had never seen Loki any less than completely jovial.  It was strange to see him wearing such a serious expression. 

            “Very well.”  He sighed and indicated one of the chairs on the other side of his desk.  Zuko lowered himself within it, his eyes never leaving Loki’s face.  He reflected for a moment on how striking Loki was.  His features were intensely masculine and his skin was bronzed from the sun.  The beard, which had caused so much contention and good humor over the years, only served to further his virile good looks. “You and I are going to be working closely with one another for quite some time.”

            “Alright.”  Zuko had known that he wasn’t going to like this conversation.  He was not suited to doling out punishments to the damned.  He saw too much of what was wrong with the mortals of the various worlds to have any desire to know any more. 

            “I’m sure that you’ve heard the rumors about the existence of Lords Lucias and Noliminan’s son.”

            Zuko felt himself start.  Yes he had heard the rumors.  They had all heard the rumors. 

            “They’re true.”  Loki muttered, raising his hand and scratching his cheek.  “His name is Ishitar.  And you, Aiken and I have been charged with the minding of him.”

            “Charged with the minding of . . .?”  Zuko shook his head.  Ishitar was a word from the ancient texts.  Zuko knew few of the old words, but he did know this one.  Ishitar, literally translated, meant a cataclysm of the most devastating of all magnitudes.  “Me?”

            “Yes.”  Loki gave Zuko a tired smile.  “Really, Zuko.  If you think about it, you’re the perfect choice.”

            “I fail to see how that’s the case.”  Zuko replied, still shaking his head.  “No.  I can’t.”

            “It wasn’t a request.”  Loki warned him.  “Lord Lucias was very specific on this point.  You need to teach him about familial betrayal.  I could do that, but not as pointedly as you.”

            “But . . . Why?”  Zuko didn’t understand this request at all.   “Neither Lord Noliminan nor Lord Lucias would ever betray such a child as he.”  Then as an afterthought, “Would they?””

            “Lord Lucias’ reasons are his own.”  Loki shrugged.  “He hasn’t shared them with me.  And I learned a long time ago that when he doesn’t want to share something with me that it’s best that I don’t ask.  I have never liked the answer when I have figured it out on my own.”

            Zuko raised his hand to his face and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.  “What if I refuse?”

            “He will not allow it.”

            “I don’t want this task.”  He replied, lowering his hand.  “Please, Loki.  I beseech you.  You have to get me out of this.”

            “I’m afraid that I can’t.”  Loki replied.  His face bore a strange, concerned regard.  “Zuko . . . Whatever you think this is about, it’s not meant to be a punishment.”

            Zuko opened his mouth to argue that point but couldn’t find the words to do so.  He snapped his mouth shut and sighed.  After a moment, he asked, “Have you seen him?”

            “No.”  Loki replied, his tone low and respectful.  “But he’s here.  In the room I set up for him.  Samyael visited me in the basement about an hour ago to tell me as much.”  Zuko shivered at Loki’s term of endearment for the thirteenth level.  Loki mistook the action as fear regarding meeting Lord Ishitar.  That was alright. Zuko was afraid of meeting Lord Ishitar.  “I thought it would be easier for all concerned if you and I were to meet him together.”

            Zuko found a bit of relief from that statement.  Loki was as frightened by the prospect of meeting the only child of Lords Lucias and Noliminan as Zuko was.  “Good.”

            Loki appraised him for a moment and then stood.  Taking his cue, Zuko stood as well and then followed him out of the library and down the hall.  They stopped at the first door.  Loki gave Zuko a guarded smile, raised his hand and then—almost hesitantly—knocked. 

            Their wait was short.  And when the door opened, Zuko heard himself gasp.  Though he had no desire for other men, he had to admit to himself that the God on the other side was probably the most beautiful creature that he had ever seen in the full of his life.  He was a perfect blend of Lords Noliminan and Lucias.  His facial features were strong and so similar to Lord Lucias’ that it was almost violently striking.  But he had Lord Noliminan’s light brown hair and tawny colored eyes. 

            Zuko, who felt himself stumbling slightly, was suddenly grateful that Loki stood at his side.

            “Lord Ishitar?”  Loki asked, catching Zuko very deftly and very discreetly.  His generally saucy tone was reverent.  

            “Just Ishitar.”  He replied, his eyes darting from one to the other of them.  Zuko was amazed to realize that Lord Ishitar seemed just as terrified of meeting them as they were of meeting him.  “Please.  I beg.”

            Loki chuckled nervously at that.  “I’m Loki—just Loki—please.  I beg.”  This made Lord Ishitar smile.  And what a smile it was!  It was soft and almost contemplating. “And this is my friend, Zuko.”

            Friend?  Zuko started at the reference.  He and Loki had never been what anyone could consider to be friends.

            “I’m very pleased to meet you both.”  Lord Ishitar said, holding out his hand.  Loki took it and gave it a good, firm shake.  Zuko stared at it for a moment, not quite daring to take it.  Here stood the third most powerful being in all of creation.  Zuko felt less than worthy to touch him.  Not understanding the turn of Zuko’s thoughts, Lord Ishitar’s brow furrowed slightly and he, very abruptly, lowered his hand.  As his eyes darted away from Zuko he said, “Thank you for allowing me into your home.”

            “It’s my pleasure.”  Loki replied. Zuko didn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t bothered to share with Lord Ishitar that this was Lord Lucias’ apartment long before it had transferred title to Loki.  Therefore, if this was anyone’s home, it was Lord Ishitar’s.  Not Loki’s.  He bit the corner of his lip in contemplation of this thought.  “Hopefully you’ll be happy here.”

            “I’m certain that I shall be.”  His expression was soft and somewhat innocent.   “You must know that the Quorum speaks very highly of you.”

            “I’m certain that this is not the case.”  Loki chuckled.  “But if it is, then what they’ve told you is all lies.”

            Lord Ishitar’s smile grew.  As it did, Zuko’s head began to swim.  He was drowning in his admiration for this God.  This terrified him.  “I don’t think so.  Zadkiel holds you in very high regard.  He’s even gone so far as to tell me that he admires you.”  Then, more reverently, “My father seems very fond of you as well.”

            Zuko felt his brow furrow at that.  Lord Noliminan wasn’t one to pass compliments to anyone.  Especially second hand. 

Zuko shifted uncomfortably at Loki’s side as he realized that Lord Noliminan must truly hold Loki in high regard to have done so.

            He made a vow to himself that he would do what he could to endear himself to Loki.  He had never formally met Lord Noliminan.  And he desperately wanted a private audience with him. So, he decided, he must be held in high regard by Loki.  Because if Lord Noliminan favored Loki, any word that Loki might pass him in regard to Zuko that was favorable may lead to Lord Noliminan’s notice of him.

            “My friend, Aiken, will be helping Zuko and me.”  Loki advised Lord Ishitar.  “He’s going to move in with you and I until you’re comfortable living here.  That way if you have questions you’ll have someone nearby that you can go to at all times.”  He turned his gaze to Zuko then.  “I didn’t think about this before, Zuko, but would you be comfortable switching apartments with Odin so that you’re closer?  I’d really like to have you living next door.”

            Zuko started at that.  Odin was one of the oldest living Gods.  His eight bedroom apartment was a palace compared to Zuko’s one bedroom suite.  The only reason that Lord Raziel and Loki’s apartments weren’t just as grand, Zuko knew, was because they had an apartment of rooms at their disposal on every level of all thirty of the Hells.  “I don’t think that he’d be comfortable with that.”

            “I don’t think that if I raise the issue with Lord Raziel that he’ll have much to say on the matter.”  Loki grinned.  “After that hoopla over his eye . . .” He chuckled and shook his head. 

            Loki was probably thinking, as Zuko was in that moment, about what an idiot Odin was.  He had sacrificed his eye to the giants on the world called Asgard under the belief that if he did so he could drink from Hermes’ pool of knowledge and understand Lords Noliminan and Lucias’ grand designs.  After Hermes had refused him—because Hermes had no more knowledge to that end then Odin, himself, had—Odin had demanded that Hermes be put on trial and punished for tricking him into the sacrifice.  The joke being, of course, that Hermes had played no hand in the giants’ request for Odin’s eye.  They had wanted it for the power that they perceived that it contained.  Lord Noliminan, angry with Odin for his stupidity, had not only refused the trial but had decreed that Odin’s missing eye might never grow back.  

            “Any way, as I said, I need you living next door.  That way Ishitar won’t have to go wandering about the thirty levels of the Hells to find you.”

            “I wouldn’t turn the opportunity down.”  Zuko admitted.

            “Good.”  Loki clapped him on the back.  Zuko stared at him, surprised by the unexpected, yet completely masculine, show of affection.  “I’ll speak with Lord Raziel right away.”  He flicked his eyes to Lord Ishitar.  “He’s going to want to meet you soon and not late.  So if you want to join me, it would be the perfect opportunity.”

            “I’m interested in meeting him as well.”  Lord Ishitar admitted.  He was watching Zuko with guarded curiosity.  Zuko suspected that it was because he had no idea who Zuko was.  Zuko was alright with that.  If Lord Ishitar didn’t know about his checkered past, that was all to the good.  “Is it true that he and my father are having a sexual affair?”

            Loki burst into laughter.  Zuko, who had heard rumors of such a tryst but would never have dared to ask the question out loud or attempt to confirm it, merely smiled. 

            “So they say.”  Loki replied, grinning ear to ear. 

            “Whoever they are.”  Zuko added.  “And they are liars.  So who should believe them anyway?”

            Lord Ishitar awarded Zuko with a contemplative smile.  “I don’t think that I was meant to know about it if it is true.”

            “I don’t think that any of us are meant to know about it if it is true.”  Zuko found himself smiling in response.  He swallowed and turned to Loki.  He needed to process his new lot in life before he became overwhelmed by it.  “Why don’t you send Samyael to my apartment with a schedule when you’ve worked it out?  I’ll make sure that I’m available whenever you have need of me.”

            “Of course.”  Loki leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest.  “I was thinking that we could take it in turns.  Each one of us takes a day.  That way we’d each have him every third.”

            “That won’t work for me.”  Zuko sighed.  “Quite frankly, Loki, my task can take months or years at a time.”  He gave Lord Ishitar an apologetic smile.  “Though I could use the break from them whenever I can get away.”

            “Me too.”  Loki admitted, reaching forward and setting his hand on Zuko’s shoulder.  He gave it a tight squeeze and then dropped his arm.  “Maybe Lord Lucias understands that on both of our accounts.”

            “Mayhap.”  Zuko mumbled.  He shook his head and forced a smile in Lord Ishitar’s direction.  “It was a pleasure meeting you, my Lord.”

            “And you.”  Lord Ishitar nodded at him.  “My Lord.”

            Unsettled at receiving title from this benevolent creature, Zuko gave them both a hesitant smile and then made his swift retreat.

-15-

            As the doorframes drew further and further apart, Ishitar’s anticipation at the prospect of meeting Lord Raziel was slowly kindling into violent fear.  He knew by the words of the Quorum how important Lord Raziel was to both his father and his mother.   What if, when Lord Raziel met Ishitar, he found Ishitar to be a sad disappointment to the many questions that he had long had about the young God.

            They came to the end of the hallway and stopped at the door at the very end of it.  Loki turned to give Ishitar a tired smile and then raised his hand to the door and knocked.  Either he hadn’t seen the fear that Ishitar felt or he chose not to address it.  Whichever was true, Ishitar was extremely grateful.

            After a moment of waiting, Loki began to whistle under his breath.  After the full of a minute, he raised his hand and knocked again.  Ishitar braved, “Maybe he isn’t home?”

            “He’s home.”  Loki muttered.  As he did so he raised his hand to the small sign posted to the right of the door.  Ishitar turned his gaze to look at it with great curiosity and he smiled.  The sign appeared to be a schedule of sorts which listed the most recent hour that had passed with a message that warned the person who had come to call that if they were to knock on the door during the course of the rest of the evening that whatever they had to say had best be important.

            “Oh.”  Is how Ishitar responded.  The note of amusement in his own tone was palpable, causing Lord Loki to laugh.  “Do you think he’ll find me important?”

            “I think that he was expecting you.”  Loki replied, shrugging.  “And that the message is meant for those who follow.”

            This made Ishitar smile.  “Surely not.”

            “Surely so.”  Loki shrugged.  “He’s been extremely curious about you from the beginning.”

            “I hope that I won’t disappoint.”

            “Trust me,” Loki replied to this, “you don’t.”

            Ishitar was about to thank Loki for his kindness when the door opened.  When it did, any thought that Ishitar might have had was suddenly lost in his surprise.

            On the other side of the door stood what could only be described as the most femininely beautiful man that Ishitar had ever seen.  His wings, like those of the other angels in this realm, where black.  As was his long hair, which was braided in tiny rivers over his bare chest, fell to his waist.  He wore a long black skirt which scooped well below his navel but afforded him the modesty of flowing to the tops of his feet.  His eyes, which were the most haunted eyes that Ishitar had ever in his life looked into, were large and black.  His skin was as pale as Ishitar had ever seen.

            “Lady Zamyael.”  Loki bowed to the angel.

            Ishitar, taken aback by the strangeness of the title given to the angel, merely swallowed.

            “Lord Loki.”  The angel said, closing his eyes and bowing his head.

            “We’ve come to see Lord Raziel.”  Loki said in extremely gentle tones.  “Will he receive us, do you think?”

            “I believe that you already know that he has been expecting you all day.”  The angel said, his wide, full lips parting into a slight smile.  “Dear Gods.  But you do look like your mother.”

            This made Ishitar smile.  “So I’ve been told.”

            “Come.”  He said as he stepped, very gracefully in Ishitar’s opinion, into the room, pulling the door behind him.  “You’re very slightly earlier than we anticipated and Raziel—vein creature that he is—is still primping.”  He chuckled.  “Might I offer you something to drink?”

            “You know my poison.”  Loki replied as he pressed his hand upon the small of Ishitar’s back and encouraged him to step in.  Ishitar smiled apologetically at him and did as he was bid.  “My Lord?”

            “Please.”  Ishitar smiled thinly at him.  “Ishitar.”

            Loki chuckled.  “Very well.  Ishitar.”

            “Michael doesn’t allow me to drink anything stronger than wine.”  Ishitar said, smiling at the angel.  He realized as he did so that the angel’s eyes were, very slowly, dancing over every line of his face.

            What the angel said was, “Michael is a prude.  And he isn’t here.  What is it that you would like?”

            “In that case, I do not know.”  Ishitar’s smile grew.   “As I say, I’ve only been allowed the wine.”

            “You should start with something light.”  Loki warned.  “Drop a bit of vodka into a glass of juice for him.”

            “As you will me, my Lord Loki.”  The angel, whose eyes were still dancing over Ishitar’s face, reached for his skirt and gave them both a very pretty, very graceful curtsey.  “Will you not take my beautiful boy—“  His cheeks flushed red.  He closed his eyes and shook his head.  As he did so, his gaze snapped to Loki.  Ishitar felt his brow furrow throughout all of this.  “My Lord Lucias’ beautiful boy, I should mean, to the library.”

            Loki raised his hand, set it upon the angel’s shoulder and ran it down his long, slender arm.  “As you will me, my Lady Zamyael.”

            Loki began walking away from the angel and Ishitar followed.  He gave the angel—Zamyael—Lady Zamyael—a wan smile as he did so.  He—nay, she—gave an embarrassed smile in return and then swiftly turned away.

            When they were behind the closed door of the library, Loki turned to Ishitar and said, very gently, “You must forgive the Lady.  She was your wet nurse after you were born.  And from what Lord Lucias tells me, very devastated when you were taken from her arms and given to the Quorum.”

            “She . . .?” Ishitar shook his head and looked at the door.  “She was?  But she has a male body.”

            “She was born a Goddess.”  Loki muttered.  “She angered your father and her current lot is her punishment for having done so.”  He sighed.  “It’s not commonly known, so please let’s keep the fact that I’ve shared this with you between just we two.”

            “Yes, my Lord.”  Ishitar promised.

            “Hey.”  Loki clapped him on the back.  “If you’re to be Ishitar, then I’m to be Loki.”

            Ishitar gave him a wan smile.  “What did she do that was so horrible?”

            “She told him no.”  Loki replied with a slight frown. 

            “No?”  Ishitar’s brow furrowed.  “What did he ask her to do that she would defy him?”

            Loki chuckled under his breath and shook his head.  A deep voice behind them, however, said, “Give him her maidenhead.”

            Ishitar turned toward the sound of the voice and froze.  This man was a mirror image to the Lady Zamyael but for that his eyes were made of flames and his black hair was unbound and flowing in waves to his waist. 

            Ishitar found himself immediately fascinated.  The only other being in the world that he had ever seen with eyes of flames was Metatron.  But Metatron’s entire being was made up of flames.  Not just his eyes.  And Metatron, though beautiful in his own brute, masculine way, didn’t come close at all to the sheer beauty that this creature possessed.

            “He wanted her to lie with him and she told him no.”  Lord Raziel said as the flames of his eyes began dancing over Ishitar’s face in much the same manner as Zamyael’s had.  “And so he turned her into a demon to force her supplication.  This made Lucias less than happy, so Lucias made her male.”

            “I see.”  Ishitar said, his voice not his own.  “And you . . . Did Lord Lucias turn you . . . ?”

            “No.”  He replied.  “It became clear to me that women in this world are never afforded any power and that if I wanted to be considered an equal to either one of your parents that I’d best change my form.  So I did.  And I’m glad.  I’m much happier as a male.”  His pretty lips twitched, almost irritably.  “Zamayel, as it turns out, is not.”

            “And look at you now, my Lord.”  Loki said with a smile that Ishitar did not quite trust.  “You wear Lord Lucias’ very crown.”

            “It’s merely a bauble.”  Lord Raziel shrugged.  “My dear Lord Lucias still sits the throne.”  Then with a beautiful smile that Ishitar trusted even less than that of Loki’s, “Which is where he belongs.”  Now the smile became real.  “I do miss him so.  Would that Noliminan would release him from the binds of exile long enough that I might pay him a small visit.”

            “He misses you as well, my Lord.”  Now Loki’s smile, too, was true.  “He tells me every time that I visit him to remind you that he loves you and your children.”

            “And I love him.”  Lord Raziel sighed.  “Truly, Loki.  I do.”

            “I know, my Lord.” Loki cocked his head slightly to the side.  “Shall I leave you with his son, then?”

            “Would you mind terribly?”  Lord Raziel asked, his expression one of greedy hunger.  “I shall have Zamyael see him home.”

            Loki shook his head.  “I’ll be by in two hours to retrieve him.”  He said.  “He’s had a long day, my Lord.”  He gave Ishitar what seemed to be a concerned smile.  Ishitar smiled gratefully in response.  “And it’s late.  I’m sure you’re tired.”

            “I must admit that I am.”  Ishitar said.

            “Very well.”  Lord Raziel sighed.  “Two hours.”  He grinned prettily at Ishitar.  “With the promise that we shall spend much more time together as our schedules permit.”

            “I am certain that both of my parents would be pleased by that honor if you would bestow it upon me.”  Ishitar replied.

            “Very politic.”  Lord Raziel grinned at him.  As he did so, the Lady Zamyael slipped in the room with a tray of glasses.  “Your mother would be oh so pleased.”

            Ishitar gave him a distracted smile as he stepped toward the Lady.  He took the tray from her hands, smiling at her surprise.   Her surprise softened to something that bordered on adoration as she said, “Thank you, my Lord.  But it isn’t necessary.  I’m to serve you.”

            “I don’t mind, my Lady.”  Ishtar shook his head, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her cheek.  “Truly.”

            Her cheeks flushed pink as she lowered her gaze. “What a sweet boy you are.”

            “He’s not a boy.”  Lord Raziel said, his tone rather brusque.  “And he isn’t your son.”

            Ishitar felt his brow furrow as he turned his gaze toward Lord Raziel.  “Really, my Lord.  I only meant that I would be honored to serve you.  My father does speak often of his deep devotion for you.”

            This wasn’t the truth, but Ishitar didn’t feel bad in telling the lie.  Lord Raziel seemed to beam by the compliment.  Lady Zamyael gave him a strange smile and looked swiftly away.

            As for Loki, that worthy began to chuckle under his breath as he reached for the glass meant for him.  “Two hours, my Lord.”  He said.  “And then it’s off to bed with this one.”

            Taking his drink in one long gulp, Loki turned to Lord Raziel and gave him the appropriate bow.