As the male nodded and left, Tohr turned to the mahogany case. Freeing the black steel clasp and lifting the lid, he had to curse under his breath.
The set of black daggers was. . . breathtaking. Taking one out, he marveled at the fit against his hand, and then saw that there were symbols etched into the blade.
More prayers, four of them, one on each side of each of the weapons.
All for strength.
These daggers were really not for fighting - they were too valuable. Christ, V must have worked on these for a year, maybe longer. . . although of course, as with everything the brother made down in that forge of his, they were deadly as hell -
The next knock was Butch. It had to be.
"Ye - " Tohr had to clear his throat. "Yes?"
Yup, it was the cop. Dressed as all the others were, in that white robe with the white rope tie.
As the brother came across the room, there was nothing in his hands. But he hadn't come empty-handed.
"On a night like tonight," the guy said roughly, "I only got my faith. That's all I got - 'cuz there're no mortal words to ease where you're at - I know up close and personal. "
He reached up behind his neck and worked at something. When he brought his hands forward once more, he was holding the heavy gold chain and even heavier gold cross that he never, ever took off.
"I know my God is not yours, but can I put this on you?"
Tohr nodded and dropped his head. As the linchpin of the male's awesome Catholic faith was hung around his neck, he reached up and touched the cross.
It had incredible weight, all that gold. It felt good.
Butch bent over and put a squeeze on Tohr's shoulder. "I'll see you down there. "
Fuck. He had nothing to say anymore.
For a while, he just sat there, trying to hold it together. Until he heard something at the door. A scratching, as if. . .
"My lord?" Tohr said as he forced himself to his feet and went across the way.
You opened the door for the king. No matter what state you were in.
Wrath and George came in together, and his brother was characteristically blunt. "I'm not going to ask how you're holding up. "
"I appreciate that, my lord. Because I'm pretty fucking ragged. "
"Why wouldn't you be. "
"It's almost harder when people are kind. "
"Yeah. Well. Guess you're going to have to suck some more of that shit up. " The king worked at something on his finger. And then put forward -
"Oh, fuck, no. " Tohr threw his hands up and out of the way even though the male was blind. "Uh-uh. No way. No fucking way - "
"I order you to take it. "
Tohr cursed. Waited to see if the king would change his mind.
Got nowhere on that one.
As Wrath just stared straight ahead, Tohr knew he was going to lose this argument.
With a dizzying feeling of total unreality, he reached out and took the black diamond ring that had only ever been worn by the king.