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Fenrich was a proud, feared, and respected demon. He had zero tolerance for misbehavior or nonsense, and was the steward of his Lord Valvatorez- leader of the Hades Party, destroyer of Fear The Great. He used to be known as the Moonlight Fang, for Hell's sake.
So, to some unwise people, the sight of him not even showing a hint of aggression as a small vampire leaned heavily against his back, nuzzling into his soft silver hair, might have been a bit strange.
Not like it really was. They were comrades, after all, forever bound together by honor and nobility. Why wouldn't some unexpected cuddling be okay?
"Is something the matter, my lord?" Fenrich asked, pausing from his demon taxes. Something like that.
"Hm? ...Mm, yes, I'm quite alright."
His voice was muffled, and the response seemed sort of absentminded. Was he tired, or just content?
"I can move to a more comfortable spot, if you wish to rest."
"No, no, I'll… get up soon. I wouldn't want to interrupt your work."
Fenrich was starting to get concerned. Something about his lord seemed, well, off.
"Your well-being comes before anything else, my lord. There's no need to worry about interruptions." The werewolf gingerly stood up from his chair, now holding Valvatorez's shoulders and gazing at him carefully. "On that note, are you… sure you are feeling well?"
"..."
He sighed.
"I guess I really can't hide anything from you, can I? To tell the truth, I've… been feeling a little under the weather. Despite my in-depth research of sardines and their invaluable nutritional properties, my body, it's…"
Trailing off, Fenrich finally understood what was going on. He wordlessly led Valvatorez to the master bed in the room, (which neither of them really used, due to the vampire sleeping in a coffin and his steward lying beside him in a… Well, not exactly a dog bed, but what was basically a soft mat with blankets and pillows next to his master) sitting them both down and waiting for the other to speak.
"It just makes me feel so weak, Fenrich," he started reluctantly, "like I should be better than this. I've lectured the entire corrupternment on what it means to be a proper demon, practically the entire universe, and yet…"
It was a simple law of the species, really. Vampires weren't supposed to survive without blood. They were supposed to die, from being locked away by a hero or however else they had lost their life-giving food source- never by purposefully starving themselves.
Valvatorez, from the moment Fenrich had met him, wasn't bound by the rules of common sense.
"Please, my lord, this is no personal fault of yours." Fenrich murmured, letting him rest against his shoulder. "Time and time again, you've accomplished what no other demon would've been able. Don't blame yourself for hurting."
His master smiled slightly.
"...Thank you, Fenrich. For sticking by me even when I couldn't fight a single slumbercat. I'm grateful for it."
He laid down to rest on the fluff of Fenrich's tail. A lot of self control was used to stop it from wagging.
“There’s no need to thank me. I’ve vowed to stay as your steward, haven’t I?”
“Hm, yes, I suppose you’re right.” He mused, sounding content.
Valvatorez could’ve gone further with his doubts. Repeated the same conversation they had many years ago, asking if Fenrich ever regretted his choice. What he didn’t seem to realize was that the werewolf wasn’t tied to promises the same as himself- Instead, he would willingly choose his master over and over again. It was different than some… some foolish bargain with a human woman.
Maybe he had managed to finally convey to him, with all his easygoing bows and scheming in his honor, that Fenrich really saw him as a demon fit to rule the netherworld. A high honor for such a conniving, merciless werewolf.
Neither of them made an effort to move. In fact, Fenrich picked up some book on the pillow titled “History and Tales of the Lost, Void Dark, and the Rebel Army” to pass the time. A little too droning for his taste, but there wasn’t much else to do as he heard the slowing of his lord’s dead heartbeat in what seemed to be sleepiness.
It was… Nice.
That was, until the three annoying brats of their party burst in through the door.
“Fenfen? You in here? Listen, the Rosen Queen vendor and some zombie got into a fight and I think you’re the only one who can break it up at this-”
…
The lass stopped mid-sentence as she actually paused to look at him. Then glanced at her other two companions.
They looked back at her.
Slowly, her expression turned into a dark grin. Fenrich's fur started to bristle.
"Get out," he quietly growled.