Michael was silent for a long moment.
"The Shadow Monarch knows," he said at last. "He understood it himself."
Lucifer's brows rose. He turned slowly toward Arthur, and the look on his face was one of frank, delighted curiosity.
"Did he, now?"
Arthur let out a short, quiet breath. He folded his arms across his chest, and his violet eyes met the devil's without a flicker.
"I'm not a fool," he said. "Nothing happens in this universe that goes past Heaven. Not for long. Not on that scale." He shook his head. "The Rulers didn't act that way because they were bold. They acted that way because they were allowed. Heaven let them, they are afterall a lesser life form compared to you Angels."
Michael said nothing. His fingers tightened slightly on the handle of his cup.
"And you carry no grudge about that?" Lucifer asked. "Against Michael? Against Heaven?" His voice was very light. "A great many people died, you know. Hunters. Children. Whole cities, in the early months. You might be forgiven for holding it against someone."
"No," said Arthur.
"No?"
"I already did what I did." He said it simply, and there was nothing to be read in it but truth. "The Monarchs are dead. The gates are closed. The Rulers are dust. There's always a reason behind a decision, Lucifer, even the ones that look like cowardice or neglect from where I'm sitting. I'm in no position to question Heaven's."
Michael looked up.
He didn't speak. But something moved at the corner of his mouth.
"But," said Arthur.
The word fell across the garden and every head turned. Arthur had not moved. He sat exactly as he had been sitting, arms folded, expression calm. But his eyes had gone a deep, steady violet, glowing faintly.
"I expect them to honor the same thing," he said. "If I'm not going to question Heaven's choices, I expect Heaven not to question mine. Not now. Not later. Not when I go after what I intend to go after." His voice did not rise. "That's the only courtesy I ask."
A long silence followed.
Lucifer looked at him for what felt like a very long time. Then he threw back his head and laughed, a warm and genuine and entirely delighted sound that rolled across the lawn and startled a pigeon out of the oak.
"Impressive," he said. He wiped one eye with a knuckle. "Oh, that is magnificent. Seems I wasn't needed after all." He gestured grandly at Michael. "Did you hear that, brother? Respect for the old order and a line drawn in the sand. I've been trying to manage that for a hundred centuries."
"You rarely are needed," said Michael. But he was smiling, very slightly, into his tea.
"And yet always so wanted," said Lucifer, entirely unrepentant.
Didi was shaking her head, helpless with laughter. Arthur's eyes had faded back to their ordinary color. He unfolded his arms and picked up his cup, and for the first time that afternoon he looked almost relaxed.
"Now," said Lucifer.
He turned in his throne and raised a hand, snapping his fingers in the general direction of the house with all the effortless entitlement of a man accustomed to being obeyed. "George, was it? A word. I don't suppose a man could get a spot of tea?"
"Of course, sir," said George.
"Earl Grey, if you've got it. Two sugars. And if there's a biscuit, I'd be heartbroken to be forgotten. I've come all the way from a lovely beach, you see. It's been a very long walk."
George looked at Arthur who simply nodded to him, "I imagine it has, sir." George inclined his head towards Lucifer with grace and turned back toward the house. Halfway across the lawn he paused, and without looking back, said quietly to no one in particular, "I shall need a fourth cup."
"Make it a full pot, George," said Arthur, smiling. "The garden keeps attracting random guests."
"So I have observed, sir," said George, and went in.
George returned bearing a fresh pot, a plate of biscuits, and the expression of a man determined to treat the devil exactly as he would anyone else.
"Earl Grey, sir," he said, setting a cup before Lucifer. "Two sugars. The biscuits are shortbread. I took the liberty of selecting the good ones."
"George," said Lucifer, with real feeling, "you are a treasure. I'd offer you a position in my bar, but I suspect you'd find the staff unbearable."
"I should find the standards unbearable, sir. I believe I shall remain where I am."
He withdrew. Lucifer lifted his cup, inhaled, and closed his eyes with the expression of a man who had waited ten thousand years for exactly this.
"Mm," he said. "Dreadful for the soul. Marvelous for the afternoon." He opened one eye and aimed it across the table. "Well, brother? Don't let me interrupt. You were in the middle of being profound."
Michael set his cup down with care.
"Every choice Heaven makes," he said evenly, "is made for the greater plan, and for the greater outcome. That has not changed."
"Of course it hasn't." Lucifer smiled. It was a lovely smile, and there was nothing kind in it at all. "Then tell me, dear brother. If everything is so well in hand, why are you here?"
Michael said nothing.
"I only ask," Lucifer went on, stirring his tea idly, "because it's rather unlike you to come down in person. You send messengers. You send signs. You send very stern dreams. You do not wander into a garden and sit in the shade drinking Earl Grey." He tilted his head. "Unless you aren't sure about the outcome this time. Unless you're acting on your own, outside of G..." He paused, and his smile sharpened by a hair. "His approval."
The garden went very still.
"It is none of your business, brother," said Michael.
"Oh, it's a little of my business."
"Try not to fight in my house," said Arthur.
He said it mildly, over the rim of his cup. Neither twin looked at him.
"They wouldn't dare," said Didi.
She had been quiet for some time. Now she set down her teacup and folded her hands, and when she spoke, her voice carried a calm, amused. "The last time they tried, it did not end well. For anyone. There was a small moon involved."
"Two moons," said Lucifer.
"Two moons," Didi conceded.
Despite himself, Michael's mouth twitched.
Lucifer was silent for a moment. He set his cup down on its saucer, very slowly, and turned his head, and for the first time since he had arrived, he looked at Didi properly. The grin had gone.
"I remember," he said. "Death of the Endless."
"You always said it like that," said Didi, softly. "Like a title you were trying not to enjoy."
"It was a good title." His eyes didn't leave her face. "I also remember telling you, once, that you had no claim on me. That you could take anyone, anything, everything I'd ever loved, and I would still walk away." He tilted his head. "That was true then. It's true now."
"I know," said Didi.
"And it goes for the current Death as well."
He turned, slowly, and looked at Arthur.
Arthur looked back.
He simply met the devil's gaze with the same calm violet stare he had given a god on Warworld and an archangel in the dark, and the silence between them was a long.
Lucifer's mouth curved. It was not quite a smile.
"Good," he said at last. "That's the correct answer."
"I understand," said Michael, "precisely what would happen if I were ever to fight my brother. Here, or anywhere else." His voice had lost its edge. "I would not do it. I would not risk it. But I tell you this, Arthur, because I think you must hear it."
Arthur turned to him.
"If you engage True Darkseid," Michael said, "you will cause great harm to the cosmos. I do not see a clear winner in that fight. I see only losses. Enormous ones." He folded his hands on the table. "Your last war, with the Empty Hand, already dealt grievous harm to one universe. It is not yet healed. It may never be."
"I know what it cost," said Arthur.
"Then you know what I am telling you."
"I do." Arthur set down his cup. His voice was quiet, steady, and not unkind. "And nothing you say will change my mind, Michael. I want to be clear about that, so there's no misunderstanding."
"I never thought it would."
"So what now?" Arthur leaned back. "Are you going to seal me? Try to kill me, to stop me?"
Lucifer's smile bloomed again.
Michael was silent for a long while.
Didi was watching the archangel with an odd, careful stillness, her hands folded in her lap, and Arthur noticed that her eyes had dropped, very slightly, to the table.
Then Michael sighed.
It was a long sigh, and it seemed to let out something that had been held in for a very long time.
"No," he said. "I will do no such thing."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow.
"We have already lost one precious concept to a creature of darkness," said Michael quietly. "I will not disrupt the order of the universe a second time on the strength of an assumption." He shook his head. "I do not know that you are wrong, Arthur. I only fear that you are right in a way that costs too much."
"How wise of you," said Lucifer.
"Be quiet, Samael."
"Wise and rude. What a combination."
Michael rose.
He did it in one smooth motion, unfolding to his full height, and for the first time the garden seemed to remember who he was. He looked down at Arthur, and his face was grave and tender and unyielding.
"But I will warn you anyway, Monarch of Shadows," he said. "There will be severe consequences for all of this. For what you carry within you, and what you mean to do. They will come, and they will not be gentle." His eyes were quiet. "I only hope that you will be ready to face them all."
"I'll manage, Archangel," said Arthur.
"I hope so."
The archangel inclined his head to Didi, and then, after the smallest hesitation, to Lucifer. Then the air folded gently around him and he was gone.
A single golden leaf drifted down from the oak and landed in Michael's abandoned teacup.
"How dramatic," said Lucifer, leaning back in his black throne with satisfaction. "Always playing the high and mighty and all-knowing. Honestly. I've heard that exit a hundred times. Every time, he says I only hope you will be ready and then vanishes, and one is left with a cold cup of tea and a sense of mild reproach."
"Is he wrong?" asked Didi.
She was smiling, but it was a small smile.
"Of course not," said Lucifer.
He said it lightly. He did not quite look at her as he said it. His gaze slid away across the garden, to the roses and the fountain and the long gold light, and for a moment his face was the face of someone remembering a thing he had no intention of discussing.
Arthur watched him for a while.
"Are you all really afraid of the Great Darkness?" he asked.
The question hung in the air. Lucifer didn't answer at once. He picked up his cup, and looked at it, and set it down again without drinking.
"You do well to be wary of it," he said at last.
"Knowing your true nature, Monarch of Shadows," said Lucifer. "Knowing where your power comes from. You, of all people, should be the most wary of it." He turned, and met Arthur's eyes. "Darkseid is nothing. A shadow of a shadow. He is the least of your worries, truly."
Arthur smiled slowly.
"If you can call him nothing," he said, "you must be very confident in yourself."
"Oh, I'm not confident." Lucifer's grin snapped back into place, bright and brilliant and entirely unconcerned. "I'm bored. There's a difference. I don't fight, you see. I never do now. I just do things." He spread his hands. "And he's amusing. So are you. So is everything else that keeps this dreadful little reality interesting. It's all just a big drama, at this point. A very long, very elaborate, very entertaining drama, and I have the best seat in the house."
"You never change," said Didi.
She sighed it, shaking her head, but her eyes were fond.
Lucifer reached for the last biscuit, and held it up to the light as if inspecting a jewel.
"I changed once,"he said, "and then never did." He bit into it with a crunch, and closed his eyes, and smiled.
/-\
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