Leviathan clenched his teeth, contending with the prattling noise coming from the elder. To him, it sounded like the same thing, told on different ways, over and over again. From a young age, spending enough time with these pygmy-sized demons whose small bodies had trouble carrying their large heads, Leviathan had learnt enough of their language to pick up some meaning; just where and when it mattered. The finer, long-winded details, he thought of as ear-scratching gibberish. Just as the elders refused to speak the common tongue as a form of principle, Leviathan passed on on indulging them in theirs. Though from his side, it wasn’t for any particular higher or custom-worthy notion; he simply disliked it.

Most of it was exhaustion; Miina would be fine. Then why was she not waking? How did she exhaust herself to the point of passing out from a broken arm?! What has she been trying to prove? He had let her roam too much under this captaincy business; she didn’t know when to stop. Like everything she did and said, she was taking it all to the letter. He hadn’t appointed her this position so she could prove anything to anyone. Not to everyone else.

The elders had removed most of Miina’s uniform, leaving her usual under-vest. Leviathan spotted more bruising spread out on her arms; newer bruises since he had last seen her skin just a few nights before. Had he not made himself clear to the wolves about how far they could take things? That Faolán seemed like the type to only pretend to retain information.

“My king, forgive the intrusion,” the culprit’s voice came from behind the divider curtain. Faolán. The juggernaut Mammon vouched for when he returned from Vargr. Granted, the wolf was a menace in battle, but every time Leviathan spotted him, he was always there, with her; stuck in, like honey in her hair. “What do you want?”

“I came to check on Mii—Captain Miina. Her squad is… restless.” The wolf sounded too close to the curtain for Leviathan’s liking. “Why did they send you? Aren’t you in a separate squad?”

“…I am. They know the captain is my sparring partner. A close friend. They thought it best to ask me to come. I also wanted to know.”

Leviathan narrowed his eyes on Miina’s bruises,and something  pricked behind his eyelids. “She’s in no shape to see anyone. Go back and tell them, she’ll be taking some time away. Hand over her command to—”

A soft groan from the bed had Leviathan turn to find Miina blinking the sleep away.

“My king?” Faolán called hesitantly.

Miina quickly averted her eyes from Leviathan’s, which was nothing new. She looked around, recognising the infirmary catacombs. She frowned at the thin top she wore and offered him a dubious look. Then she noticed the thick bandages around her forearm and wrist. Judging by her unagitated demeanour, the elders had succeeded in eliminating the pain.

“Faolán, is that you?” Her voice was still groggy from sleep, or the treatment; or both. Leviathan wondered, as he often did of late, if he was truly invisible to her sometimes.

“…Captain, you’re awake.”

“Why are you out there? Come in.” 

“Don’t come in,” Leviathan said.

Miina clenched her teeth. “I said: Come. In.”

Leviathan crossed his arms. “I dare you, wolf.”

There. That was more like it. Those grey eyes shooting daggers at him.

“Captain, it’s alright,” Faolán said awkwardly, “the king has explained your situation. I’ll let your squad know. Everyone is worried. Please, save your energy. Everyone will want to see you soon. We’ve also secured Anise. She’s safe.”

“Wait… secured where?”

“In the dungeons.”

“What? Why?!” Miina strained, shifting herself into a sitting position.

“’Cause I said so,” Leviathan said, already expecting her soured reaction. “You’re dismissed, wolf.”

“My king,” Faolán bowed to the divider and left.

An uncomfortable silence followed when a servant girl came in to refill Miina’s water jug. His captain had things to say, he could tell, judging by the frown deepening by the second, and the pursed lips. Still, there was only so much discourtesy and petulance one was allowed toward the king in front of the help.

This serving girl on the other hand was taking her time, unbothered  with a blatant stare at the king, going as far as to broaden her smile. Belatedly, Leviathan recognised her. Samira, the human soul he had shared his iron wheel with too many times to account. Contrary to the heated urges he'd once feel from less than such seductive glances, something less invasive and less impulsive took over. A kind of distant nostalgia for what now felt like a previous life. There was even a kind of reprieve, or relief, from seeing the girl with some colour back in her plump cheeks. The soul had survived the madness she was destined for, had she stayed by his side and on his iron wheel. “Thank you, Samira,” he said, hoping his tone was as cordial as Mara suggested he used when addressing human souls. By the servant's pause, Leviathan could see his gratitude welcomed surprise.

After the girl left, the shooting daggers in Miina’s eyes had somehow turned into molten lava. It would've been cuter if it was jealousy, but no; this was the usual between them, with her always angry with him. Did she even need a reason? Leviathan judged it was better than when she put a cold barrier between them and started treating him like the king; like everyone else did who wasn't Lucious or Mammon. The animosity, at least, had heat in it. He'd take that any given day in lieu of the cold indifference. He was well acquainted with indifference.

Absently, he reached for a strand of her hair, intent on tucking it behind her ear, to which she all but slapped him, so scandalised was her stare. She pulled away in time to avoid his touch. “I won’t do anything. I won't let you do anything to me either, I promise. You need to save your energy~,” he teased.

Miina held her thoughts, when it was obvious something weighed them down. “Go on, say it. It’s not like I can’t read it, anyway.”

“Don’t you dare,” the quiver in her voice betrayed her reluctance. “We agreed you wouldn’t read my mind.”

“Did we? I remember you stating your case…”

She sighed. “You said you’d see how things went.”

“Mm-yeah, that’s still not me agreeing. You know, in context and all.”

Miina turned her head, exasperated, but yet again, it only pulled him for more. Here, only curtains separated them from anyone who passed by. He judged how long he could steal a kiss for.

“How many dead?”

Leviathan had to hand it to her. She was an exceptional expert at cutting those moments short. He looked away, as though he could avoid the sudden reality of his failing circumstances. There was no room for comfort here. “Too many. Souls included.”

“What were those things?”

“I don’t know. We’re going to find out.”

“Why did you send Anise to the dungeons?”

He blinked in disbelief.

“She saved a lot of us when she took down one of those things. She did nothing wrong!”

“Did nothing wrong?! She fucking broke your arm in two places! She’s unstable!”

“She’s scared! What would you know about a scared soul?” She finally faced him. “What would you know of what she had to go through to get here? How it feels to be everyone’s meal out there? Did you even see her face?! You wouldn’t, because the first thing you did when she and the others came looking for shelter was to offer them as bait in the stupidest game I’ve ever—I can’t even believe…” She scoffed.

Of course, he hadn’t the faintest. He’d never been a soul. Most of his adult life, he had spent it using souls to his pleasure. Not so long ago, souls were just things to consume; things for a demon’s pleasure. But hadn’t he accepted the truth? Wasn’t one of the rarest souls Hell had ever seen about to become part of his family? What was he supposed to do? Offer Anise a milky bath and a nail trimming session? And Miina, right in front of him, hadn’t he lost enough of himself to her? Did she need to challenge him at every turn when it came to souls? When it came to her own safety?! They were still clearing bodies at the arena, and the king of Hell chose to be here, with his captain, for a broken arm. Did that mean nothing?

From when he’d first laid eyes on her; since their lips touched for the first time, and every time after that, the single thought prevailed: He wasn’t enough. He would never be enough. And it never bothered him. It shouldn’t, because he was the demon; the scorned one; the one who could not be trusted. The cursed one. It didn’t need to bother him, because Leviathan saw the want. And for him, just those measly crumbs were enough. Every time she beckoned him; every time they held each other, Miina wanted him. Underneath her resentment and distrust, she wanted him. He felt it, therefore he knew it to be real; in the same way one knows they’re still breathing. Couldn't that be enough? Wasn’t it supposed to be enough?

Leviathan inhaled and exhaled with caution. “What do you want from me, Miina?”

She seemed taken aback by the question, and fidgeted, careful not to strain her injured arm.

His tone had been ill placed, giving more weight to the question than either one of them expected; he knew it. They had never spoken about their circumstances, or made any special arrangements to suit their needs or secrecy. She feared even the mention of it aloud, he could see. She wasn’t ready to give voice to whatever there was between them. Of course not. That would require some level of trust, right? Seeing her this tense rocked his castle of patience. “I meant the woman,” he lied. “What would you have me do to her?”

As mild as it seemed, he spotted her relief. “To give her a chance. We need to understand what happened to her,” Miina brushed a hand over her breastbone, near where Kiruna had bitten her before. It would’ve been an innocent move, if it didn't remind him of his mother stroking her own scarred neck. Leviathan didn’t care for it.

“You’re right, I don’t know shit about souls. Maybe I know some of what makes them tick, you know, in that other way… but that’s it.” He paused, seeking some reprieve from her narrowing eyes. “I’m not interested in giving them the VIP treatment when they break my captain’s bones. I have to keep saying it: You need to remember that this is still Hell. Souls don’t end up here because they were all virtuous when they were alive. That woman’s soul is already eroding, she'll turn any day now. That's the only explanation to her handling whatever that thing was. I have a lot of eyes on me no matter what I do. I have to take that into account.”

“I know that…”

“If you do, then what the hell is the problem?!”

She stared at him, sensing perhaps a chance of sorts. “They’re still souls; like me and Mara. I feel like I can help, and that might even take some pressure off you.”

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “You’re gonna have to elaborate...”

“I want to make up a squad of souls.”

He cocked his head, as though she’d spoken in a foreign language. “You what?”

“It would be a small team. It would be a strict selection, but I really think we can make good use of them. Anise is the perfect example; you saw what she did out there,” she ignored Leviathan who was already shaking his head. “There are so many more we can put to good use! Tap in with the proper training and the elder’s intervention, we—”

“No, absolutely not!” He stood up and paced a few steps away from her bed.

“…W-why?!”

“A squad made up of lost souls? With you leading them? Have you any notion of how dangerous that is?!”

Again, she seemed baffled by his question.

“Come on, don’t even,” he shook his head.

“I was waiting for the right moment to ask. Anise coming along, it makes more sense. I’m not asking you to make all souls soldiers. I’m asking for a select few who would be part of Court’s army. They’d all be working for you!”

“It doesn’t matter! After what just happened out there? Did you miss the part where I said they’re turning? They’re becoming rogue demons, Miina. You remember rogue demons eat souls, right? It’s bad enough I have you out there as—”

“As your soul captain?”

Leviathan stopped to look at her. She looked deadly serious, yet there wasn’t a trace of anger. This one he struggled with, though the look of disappointment wasn't foreign to him. It had been a constant throughout most of his life. He had seen it from his mother; from his brothers; from the elders when as a child, he had failed once again to control his blood thirsty curse. All of those he had seen and overcome, but this one, on Miina’s placid eyes knotted something in his chest.

“You could’ve died today. Again. If you die here, who knows where you’ll end up!”

Miina didn’t blink at the mention. “Why did you even make me your captain?”

Leviathan let his head fall back until he faced the ceiling, as though pleading to some superior guidance. He then watched her for a long time, studying how best to proceed. He decided she knew. She had to know why. She’d been coming to him all this time, she had to know. Even if they never spoke of it, she had to know how much he needed her. How much he…

He’d been patient, and he had waited. Never knowing what he waited for exactly, but he waited, because he was hers, and all she needed to do was be by his side. So she had to know. They wanted each other. Was it so wrong to admit it aloud?

He approached and sat beside her on the bed. Kiruna flopped behind him, appearing to have fallen asleep. Miina didn’t fidget and her stare never wavered at his proximity this time. His hand rested just centimetres away from her unharmed hand. He watched their hands close to one another, his fingers but a small gap away from hers. He lifted two of his fingers to touch her hand when she pulled away. “Okay…" he chuckled bitterly. "So you don’t know. Fuck. Do I even know…”

She didn’t flinch. Not when he sighed to the floor. Not when he stood and turned his back to her. “You’re off duty until you heal. That means no training, no Anise, no nothing. The elders will use their potions; they’ll smell like a *Stench Kow’s arse, but bear with it; you’ll heal faster. We’ll review things after that.”