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It was a horrible day in London, it was pouring rain and the couple were stuck in a hotel room. They didn't have anything special planned, they just wanted to spend time together and they could not go to heaven or hell, no one knew their relationship. Well, no one except Saraqael.
Michael was rereading notes on her phone on the couch while Dagon sat at the table, tending to some of the shedding scales on her arms. Except that the brunette could see, in her peripheral vision, that Dagon was agitated and discreetly trying to scratch her back against the back of her chair. And this for almost thirty minutes.
" Are you okay ? " Michael asked without looking up from her phone.
" Very well, why ? " the demoness raised her head.
" Because you seem… bothered by something, " explained the brunette.
" What makes you say that ? " asked Dagon.
" Oh you mean other than the fact that it's obvious ? The fact that you're squirming like a worm for half an hour ? " said Michael. " Are those your wings ? "
" No, " the Duke replied quickly, suppressing a groan.
" Dagon, " scolded Michael.
The redhead rolled her eyes, trying to squirm as little as possible.
" We can say that, " she replied. " So what ? "
" Just get them out, that does not bother me, " said the brunette, shrugging her shoulders.
" Hmm yeah, no it's good. "
Michael had never seen Dagon's wings until now. The wings were a private part of every angel and demon and few would show them in front of someone they didn't trust. But there it was Michael, she could show her right ? Unless...
" Is there something wrong with them ? " asked the angel, narrowing her eyes slightly and Dagon nodded no. " Need some preening ? "
" Laziness... " muttered Dagon, still focused on her arms.
" Just, let me do it, " Michael then said, getting up to come closer.
" It'll be fine ! " replied the demoness, quickly getting up to walk away almost making her chair fall over. " It’s really not necessary. "
" This clearly bothers you and I know how hard it is to do it alone, let me help you, " Michael told her, frowning.
" Yeah but no, it will pass, " assured the redhead who was still at a safe distance.
" Dagon, it’s just me here, " assured Michael who did not understand her reaction.
She really didn't like looking weak, she hated it and could be stubborn when she wanted. Except that against all odds, Michael could be much worse.
" You’re not going to let me go, I have the impression, " she said.
" Good impression indeed, " affirmed Michael.
" ... alright, " Dagon gave in without hiding her dissatisfaction.
She squirmed a little and grimaced before releasing her two feathery limbs and the brunette walked slowly to stand behind her.
Messy and dirty was probably a good words to describe what Michael was currently seeing. The two wings were there and whole, which was already a good thing, but they were really damaged. The feathers were a very dark brown, almost black, with some orange highlights, or was it blood ? Michael wasn't really sure.
" Aren't you forgetting anything ? " she asked her in a tone that suggested it wasn't really a question.
" No ? " tried Dagon.
" You are a Duke, " Michael said simply.
" No kidding ? Breaking news, " Dagon replied sarcastically, which earned her a smack to the back of the head, more affectionate than violent. " Ouch- okay, and ? What's the connection ? " she asked.
" If you are a Duke it is because your rank was high before and I know what that looks like. Then, get them out. All of them. Now, " demanded the angel in a voice that left no room for negotiation.
Dagon huffed and with a grunt, she brought out two more wings that were in worse condition. Many feathers were missing and had not grown back, due to lack of maintenance. Others were stuck together with what appeared to be blood and some sort of blackish liquid similar to oil.
Michael touched the edge of one of the wings with a finger, she could see the bone under the wounds in certain places and was almost afraid that the appendix would disintegrate under her touch. It would take a lot more than preening to fix this, miracles will be necessary.
" How long has it been since you didn't… ? " began Michael.
" Guess, " the redhead replied simply.
" Dagon..., " huffed the angel. " It’s really not serious and- "
" And what ?? " Dagon almost shouted as she turned around. " Excuse me angel, but first of all, we don't need them in hell and second of all, if you let your wings out down there, someone will probably try to tear them off of you. Believe me, I've seen this before. So no, Michael, I never took care of them. "
In truth, she immediately regretted getting angry like that, but she felt really vulnerable like that and she had learned, in hell, that being vulnerable was a very bad thing. Aggression had become her means of defense, like many other demons, but she wasn't in hell now and she didn't want her angel to pay the price.
" I'm just trying to help here, " Michael told her in a calm voice so as not to make the situation worse.
" I know, " whispered Dagon, massaging her temples in frustration. " Don’t listen to me. "
Michael pulled the chair out again and with a shake of her head, pointed at it, indicating for the demoness to sit in it. What she did after a few seconds of hesitation. She presented her with her wings again which seemed to tremble slightly and the angel did not know if it was because of some pain or nervousness.
Michael placed her hands lightly on the half-folded wings in front of her and felt them quiver under her fingers before folding against the redhead's back. She immediately pulled her hands back and thought that she had probably underestimated her partner's discomfort.
" Dagon... if this is really too much for you... " she didn't really know what to say, she had pushed her to do it and felt a little guilty. " Listen, forget that, I'm sorry. "
Dagon turned her head slightly to look at her over her shoulder and shook her head.
" Don’t be, " she replied. " It has nothing to do with you. It's just... " she took a deep breath and forced her shoulders to relax and her wings spread a little. " It’s okay, I trust you. "
Michael put her hands back on the wings and Dagon tensed again but tried to stayed as still as possible. After a few minutes of removing the numerous clumps of dried blood and dirt, she set to work, adjusting the few large secondary ones that remained. She followed the movement of the muscles and bones from her shoulder blades down to where the longest primaries were. As it was, the primaries and half of the secondaries were in tatters and completely burned from her fall and no more feathers could grow while they were there.
Michael slid her hand down to her tertiaries and took the opportunity to run her fingers over her covers. She was surprised by the softness of the down she felt and the strength of the muscles which seemed to have never weakened. She worked on it instinctively, carefully pulling and smoothing all the feathers, even the hidden ones, as promised.
" I'm going to have to pull some out, you know, " Michael informed her. " Some are irrecoverable. "
Dagon was silent and her breathing much calmer, she expected it anyway, she knew what her wings looked like. So she just nodded.
" Go ahead, " she said.
Michael began and winced at each feather being plucked because Dagon jumped every time. Plus the feathers were big and therefore difficult to remove, she didn't like to hurt her more than necessary.
" Almost done, " she muttered.
She tried to do it as quickly as possible to finally be able to use small miracles to heal all the wounds. She couldn't use big miracles without being spotted and she didn't want to explain their uses.
After several long minutes that were more caressing than preening, Michael forced herself remove her hands from where she had buried them, in the soft little feathers between Dagon's shoulder blades. It seemed to calm her down a little.
" I'm done, " she said softly, leaning back.
Dagon, who was almost slumped on the table, raised her head sleepily. She opened her wings wide, rolling her shoulders. Michael looked at the feathers shining, they were indeed brown almost black with auburn highlights like Dagon's hair. The feathers were covered in small circular patterns, reminiscent of waves that made the brunette want to stare at them for hours. It should look even more impressive with all the feathers.
The redhead opened and closed her wings several times and seemed satisfied to see her feathers, what was left, now securely in place. The sensation also seemed less heavy to her, of course there was the lack of feathers, but also that of dried blood.
" Hmm, thanks, " she said.
" You'll be able to fly in no time, " Michael told her. " When all the feathers have grown back of course. "
" I haven’t done it for six thousand years, I prefer to avoid making a fool of myself. "
" That cannot be forgotten,” affirmed the brunette. " And they are beautiful, " she blurted out.
" I thought angels didn’t lie, " Dagon almost teased her.
" And that’s precisely why I don’t lie, " clarified Michael.
" Have you seen their condition ? Or are we seeing two different things ? " said Dagon, pointing to one of her wings.
" Does it because something is crooked or broken that it makes it less beautiful ? Besides, it’s only temporary. "
Dagon opened and closed her mouth several times before responding.
" Yeah, you always know what to say, don’t you, " she gave a little kick to the ground. " Can I… return the favor ? "
" Maybe later, " replied Michael, grabbing her hand. " For now, come over here. "
She walked over to the couch, which was big enough for two people, then lay down on it like earlier.
" Come on, you know you want it too, " said the brunette, inviting her to join her.
And it was true, Dagon quickly joined her, resting her head on the angel's chest while her arms wrapped around her waist. This is how the rest of the day went. The two cuddling and exchanging a few words from time to time, all accompanied by the sound of the rain outside slowly lulling them to sleep.