“My love—- this is a simple battle barely even a battle - I can lead the troops and be back before breakfast tomorrow “ he insisted pouring Over the map of the territory that in far further would have become pentagram city as soon as they laid full claim of course .
༒︎ . She perches at the Dragon-King's side, a veil of grace shrouding evermore her disposition. The chamber's maw is one with many heads, and many teeth, and many voices ━━━ each in each entwined, a pandemonium of passions. Her king is urged every which way by his advisors, and they would eat him alive were that they could, if only to sate their appetites. Hell is a beast that must be gentled again with each turning moon, lest it turn its teeth inward and feast upon its own hunger. ❛ Hell is not so starved for victories that it must spend you carelessly. ❜ Guilt flutters betwixt her ribs like a bird in a cage, a thing with feathers, nipping at her heart. Had it been her voice, then, that tilted his thoughts toward war? Had she spoken something that became, in his mind, a reason to go? When her desires had taken shape, had he thought to win them for her? Battle has never been her language. She does not pretend otherwise. Strategies of war belong to others, to his councils and commanders, and she insists not upon them ; but she knows better in matters of statecraft. Lucifer is the symbol of Hell, and he cannot be felled. ❛ We cannot lose you, beloved. ❜ Lilith says, voice resolute as her lilac gaze flickers toward him.
Her husband is her King, and her King is her husband, and she shares him with the Realm. Even if she were to lay her own want aside, fold it neatly and hide it where even she cannot look too closely, the truth would remain unchanged: she knows him too well to believe conquest and bloodshed are the true wish of his heart. Lithe hand caresses up his armoured arm, the steel cold to the touch, and then she steps closer, caging herself between him and the map, ❛ I would have you here, with me, when morning comes. ❜