TBTT 42. Meteorological anger runs in his family

[moonshadows]

As much as he would rather not move, he does still have things he needs to do today. Gently, he lifts her to her hooves and - yes, that is affection when she sways slightly, still dazed. Normally, he would be painfully anxious over how she was interpreting that kiss, but he trusts her to be patient and forgive him when he does not repeat it. No doubt he will be less blasé about this development later tonight, but he will deal with that when it happens. He does not want to ruin this exceptionally good mood.

"I will not be able to escort you back to your rooms," he growls softly, assuming his human form.

She nods absently and heads for the door, glaives forgotten on the floor. Has he really muddled her so badly? It sinks in for the first time that she really, truly, likes him. Not just as the one she serves, but in a way that could be termed 'besotted'. For her to be this spaced-out when she is normally very alert strengthens the warm seed of affection that has put forth tender leaves in his heart. Idly, he wishes that she were not a child. No matter; she will be patient. He can trust her to do that.

"You forgot something, my Champion." Attempts to throttle back amusement fail.

"Oh." The teenage half-demon turns back, collecting her glaives and mechanically putting them away before resuming her dreamy journey to the door.

"You forgot something else." He did this to her. By the stars, he was enjoying this!

"Huh?" She turns to look at him in puzzlement, sees his illusions, and looks down at herself. "...oh. Sorry, Kal'shan."

He follows his properly-disguised Champion to the door and opens it, struggling to scowl and look unhappy. He doesn't quite succeed.

"You-" he points to a guard at random. "escort my demon back to her chambers." The habitual scowl makes a genuine appearance as the guard so indicated glances nervously between Lord and demon. "Is there a problem?"

"No, my Lord."

"Then why do you seem so...reluctant...to obey my command?"

The guard throws another, almost fearful, look at the tame demon standing off to the side in her own personal La-La Land. "The day of the cabinet meeting. We never opened the door. One moment she was just standing there, and the next - gone."

Warm brown eyes narrow. "I see. You witnessed a fraction of her power - the power that I command - and fear her."

The guard swallows. "Yes, my Lord."

One well-manicured hand waves dismissively. "She was obeying orders, nothing more. I commanded her to attend me; I did not command her to wait for the door to be opened. You do not command her, and your actions will not deter her. Now, I have ordered my tame demon to return to her rooms, and you are going to follow her as she does so. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Having the illusion of control - and therefore, responsibility - stripped away actually makes the guards more comfortable; there is a visible release of tension in the air. The guard chosen for escort duty follows calmly as she walks by, still dazed by the day's events. A quiet chuckle escapes the Warlord. His remaining guards share a glance and unanimously, silently, decide to pretend that never happened.
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"Minister of War Agnes."

"Warlord Raphael."

He scowls, as always, at being addressed by name...but War is blank-faced as always, and she brings him results and not excuses, so he lets it slide. As always. Ritual complete, he turns to the reason for this meeting.

"So. This region has been deemed fully pacified, our troops are free to move elsewhere, and you have decided to begin marching on...?"

War stands up, moves to the map, points to a hilly region. "Here."

He stands as well and peers at the map before pointing to a region containing a rich delta metropolis. "Why not here?"

"Too prosperous. If we move on them now, they'll fight, and we'll destroy half the region taking it. The hill region isn't as useful to us, except as an example. We were able to spook this region into surrendering because they have no standing army here, and underground cities are very vulnerable. The hills-region people are historically very independent and prone to violence; they won't surrender until they've been ground into the dust."

"Then we won't even bother making the offer. We'll just swoop down and crush them." He strokes his chin thoughtfully. "We take the hills, forcefully, and the delta will surrender to keep their precious cities intact." The disdain in his voice hints that he has seen this tactic in the past, and has little respect for the city-folk who value comfort and submission over hardship and freedom.

"Exactly, my Lord," War nods. "If we demonstrate what could happen, they won't be so eager for it to happen. I fully expect a delegation from them before we're even done taking the hill region."

"Hn. Well, when that happens, State will deal with it." He pauses, curious. "Is it known outside the mountain region that I have a tame demon?"

"It's public knowledge in the conquered regions and rumored in the regions bordering, but no one is entirely sure what difference that makes."

"Including you."

War hesitates only slightly. "Including me."

He smiles slowly, cruel anticipation licking the edges of the expression that he lavishes almost fondly on the hilly region of the map. "I see." The words are a satisfied hiss. "I shall have to arrange a demonstration, then."

A veteran of many battles before swearing herself to his service, War doesn't believe in anything she hasn't seen - but she doesn't disbelieve, either. "As you wish, my Lord."

For a long moment, he seems not to have heard her; his eyes trace the curves of terrain as though admiring a masterpiece.

"A storm..." he murmurs. "Let them feel the storm's rage...yes, it is only fitting. Minister of War, what colors are considered unlucky in the hill region?"

"Uh...unlucky? None that I can think of, but green lightning is a very bad omen."

"That will do splendidly. Make a few preliminary strikes, let our intentions be known, and announce that on Week's Dawn I will display my demon's power. Is there a religious center in this region?"

"No, my Lord. A few small shrines, but the populace is too fractured and independent for any spiritual center."

"A pity. I suppose the capital will have to do."

For a brief moment, War almost asks 'for what?' but decides just as her mouth opens that she'd rather not know. "Week's Dawn. Understood, my Lord."