I didn't use to care about my Fallen Angels who got their wings. I would go off and take care of other business while it happened. But I couldn't bear to leave while Lucifer got his. When he asked me if it was painful... I couldn't bring myself to tell him it would. It would hurt more than death itself.

Two archmages came into the room, and shut the door behind them. I watched as they began the process, and as Lucifer began increasingly uncomfortable. I winced as his skin began to split open. It angered me that he was in pain and there was nothing I could do for him. He had to feel the pain to the mages knew when to stop the process. The smell of his blood assaulted my nose as it poured out of the rips, dripping onto on the table and pooling out so far it dripped off the table.

As the tips of the wings began to push their way out of his skin, I heard him whimper. My hands tightened into fists as I resisted the urge to kill the archmages for harming Lucifer. I had to remind myself over and over that they were just doing their job.

Despite my advice earlier, Lucifer began to freak out, pulling at the restraint on his wrists. I knew it was making his pain worse, as did the archmage holding his shoulders, but the archmage was too busy hold down his shoulders that he couldn't hold his arms down. If his shoulders moved, the wings wouldn't come in right, making them useless. I was almost relieved when I saw Lucifer pass out as the largest part of the wings pushed their way through. But he came back not even ten seconds later. The pain must've been terrible for him to come back into consciousness so fast.

What he did next shocked me so much I couldn't bring myself to move. He began to bang his head into the table over and over, so hard I saw blood trickling from his temple.

The archmage holding his shoulders shouted, "Hey! Stop!"

Those words snapped me from my stupor, and I leaped into the fray. I ran to Lucifer's head and grasped it gently so he'd stop. He struggled, gasping for air and trying to shake my hands off, but I didn't let go. I looked as the archmage got the last of the wings out of him. With the process complete, I could take the pain away.

I began to let my spiritual energy seep into his head. The reaction was instantaneous. His body went limp, and his breathing slowed until it returned to normal. It deepened as he fell asleep, but I didn't stop there. I kept circulating it through his body, letting it heal the bleeding tears in his back, the cut in his bottom lip, and the gash on his temple. Only once everything was sealed up did I stop. I waved away the restraints, freeing him.

The archmages bowed to me before taking their leave, probably sensing my murderous intention towards them. The moment they left, I began to clean Lucifer up. I obviously removed his blood-soaked boxers, relieved he was face down, so my focus wasn't shaken. Okay, maybe I stared at his bubble butt for longer than necessary, but I concentrated on my task right after.

Summoning a bucket of water, I slowly poured it over him, letting it wash away any and all blood from him. I also took the opportunity to clean off his bloody wings. They were raven black, and probably sensitive, so I carefully rubbed them down with a damp cloth. The blood that came off of them was a tad worrying. I had to be sure to give Lucifer plenty of water once he woke up to be sure he hadn't lost too much blood.

Once I was done washing him up, I retrieved another pair of boxers for him. After placing them on him (an admiring how they perfectly squeezed his bum) I lifted him from the table, toddler style. Only because his wings would've gotten in the way if I had carried him bridal style. Plus, toddler style was a whole lot easier, because he could rest against my body instead of making my support all of his body weight on my own.

His drooping wet wings sort of got in the way, so I brushed my fingers down Lucifer's spine, dealing them into their tattoo. The tattoo was basically just angel wings on his back, and the actual wings would come out with just a thought from Lucifer, no pain.

As soon as I stepped from the room, the dogs came running to me, sniffed at Lucifer worriedly. I pushed them away, scared they'd wake him up. "You three, go to Haldir. See if he needs help," I ordered. They looked reluctant to leave Lucifer, but did as I commanded. I knew they were being sweet, but I needed them to be my eyes while I couldn't be on the front lines.

I carried Lucifer back to my room, noticing how servants bustled around the castle, the news of the war probably having spread throughout the entire capital. They smartly dodged me, not a single one getting in my way. In my room, I shut the door behind me, and gently set Lucifer onto the bed. I laid him on his stomach so he wasn't laying on his sensitive back. He looked the slightest bit uncomfortable in his sleep, and I knew he was still feeling the phantom pains of having the wings forced through his back.

While I waited for him to wake up, I sat by his side on the bed. I rethought my plans to have him out surveying the battle. I had said it in such a way that it seemed like I was sure he would be fine, but in all honesty, I was afraid for his safety. The dogs would protect him at all costs, but humans were scheming, evil beings, and anything could happen. For some reason, they blamed all their evil deeds on me, even though I had no hand in anything that went on in human minds.

With an exasperated sigh, I ruffled Lucifer's hair, and stood up. If the humans were going to play dirty, I'd just have to do what I did best, and beat them at their own game.