A short fic. I really just kinda do what I want with these guys. No ragrets. Now with ~formatting~ oooooh
He took the offered cake with trepidation. He did not fear something as banal as human food. He stared at the square and at the implement on the side. It appeared to be a very small spear with four points in a row. He was unsure of how to grasp this spear. It was much smaller than Solarion. His hands engulfed it.
The other occupants of the Council chambers were not watching him. They were more focused on the nephalem who was giving pieces to each of them. He surreptitiously looked around trying to see how the others were maneuvering with their cake. It was easy for the others - Auriel and Ithereal had much smaller hands than he. And Tyrael had practice with eating, being a mortal for a year now.
He grabbed the spear with two fingers in his right hand and tried to spear the cake. He growled as the cake slipped off of the spear and tried to spear it again. He felt the rise of heat at the back of his helm. He would not be bested by something as idiotic as this!
"Having trouble, Imperius?" Tyrael drawled as his mortal tongue darted out to grasp the crumbs of the cake. Everyone turned to him, including the nephalem.
"No," he hissed as he set the cake down, "I have other matters to attend to than engage in frivolous festivities. Some of us still take the safety of Heaven seriously."
He huffed and teleported away to his chambers.
"He does not like to be embarrassed, please do not take it personally, nephalem," Auriel said.
Nora looked at where the angel had been and frowned, "I did not consider he might have trouble. I forgot how…sizeable he is. I should find a fork that is more suitable for him."
"He would likely not eat it anyway. You know how he despises anything mortal," Tyrael said.
"He was trying to," she said, picking up the plate and looking at the corner that had been taken off clumsily, "I shall return. Please make sure that this bottomless pit over here," she gestured towards Tyrael, "Does not eat everything I have brought!"
She was halfway to the way point when she paused. A larger utensil would not help if he were to have the same size piece. It would likely frustrate him more. And she was unsure if she even had anything suitable.
Turning back, she looked towards the Halls of Valor and started walking. She would apologize for not thinking about this need of his.
She nodded at the angels that allowed her in and made her way down the gilded halls, decorated with trophies of battles past. Her eyes caught several paintings of battlefields interspersed within. She stopped to ask a walking angel where she could find Imperius' chambers.
After a tense pause, the angel directed her and she nodded and thanked them.
She walked further into the halls and tilted her head as she noticed the trophies becoming more prominent. The demons were larger and more twisted. She chewed at her lip. She had seen trophies like these in some of the elder demon hunters' homes. She did not know how many had survived Malthael.
She finally ended up in front of a golden door emblazoned with the same sun that Imperius wore upon his breast. She moved to raise her hand, suddenly realizing that she had brought the damn cake with her.
She shook her head and knocked with her other hand.
She stood and got no response.
She knocked again. Louder and more forcefully.
She knocked a third time, practically pounding on the door with her fist.
"WHAT?" the angel growled, "Come to embarrass me more in front of our kin, Tyrael?"
She blinked a bit as she looked up. He had shed his pauldrons and gauntlets. She had never seen his arms before. Or what he fashioned into arms.
"Well, no. I came to apologize. I did not consider your needs and I regret that. It will not happen again," she said, focusing on his helm.
"I…" he paused and she tilted her head a bit, "I was not bothered by anything! I simply had to leave to attend to paperwork that could not wait."
She peered around him, to the cleared desk. "Ah. Yes. You are quite busy. But I brought the cake in case you wanted to have it, away from the others. Sometimes it tastes better if you just use your hands," she bowed her head as he took the plate, "I shall leave you to it. Until we meet again, Imperius."
He stared at the plate on his desk. She had mentioned using his hands rather than that stupid mini spear.
He would never admit it, but he had been intrigued by mortal food since their first encounter with nephalem, those many years back. This seemed different than the cooked flesh that he had seen before. Nor was it the green things that grew in their wilds.
This seemed…crafted. He touched the top with his finger and looked at the white substance that had come back with it. Humans ate with their mouths. And while he did not have a mouth in the truest sense of the word, he lifted his finger up to where his mouth would be.
Angels had senses. They could smell and taste, some moreso than others. Imperius had always been keener at tasting and smelling than he let on.
But he had never tasted anything like this…creation. A satisfying sweetness burst through his resonance and he sat up straighter.
This food was unlike anything he had tasted before. He had tasted the sulfur of the Burning Hells and the clean freshness of the Garden's pools but this…
He took a piece of the spongy cake and the red filling and placed it in his false mouth. It was even better all together.
The piece did not last much longer and he felt disappointment when he saw that he had finished it.
Perhaps she would bring more with her next time, he mused as he looked at the empty plate.
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