Demon!EnglandxReader Whispers in the Dark 4

“I had to be sure.” Arthur leaned into the pillows.

“Sure of what?” you asked.

You were becoming impatient, waiting for the demon to answer. He shifted so he was looking at you. He took in your appearance, from the way you (h/c), (h/l) hair fell to the way your (e/c) eyes eagerly looked into his, having forgotten your fear in favor of curiosity.

“There is an enchanted Bloodline. The Bloodline yields one daughter for every generation. This daughter is the Lightsword. The Lightsword is the protector of the humans.” Arthur paused, a strange burning in his throat, and you jumped in.

“Protector of humans, how?” You leaned forward, swept up in curiosity.

“The Lightsword slays the creatures of the dark, amongst them, demons. She is blessed with special abilities. Increased strength, speed, agility, cunning, faster healing and, in some cases, the ability to use Light magic.” You looked at the demon for a moment.

“Well, that’s a great story, Arthur, but why did you tell it to me?” It was the first time you had used his name, and you saw his eyes flick up to you. You raised your eyebrows expectantly at the demon. Arthur shifted again, the burning in his throat moving down and causing his chest to tighten.

“There hasn’t been an active Lightsword in three generations. Until now.” He paused again, his chest finally releasing. His blood began to hum in his veins. What the bloody hell is going on? he thought. “(Name), you are the Lightsword.”

Silence fell over the room. You looked at Arthur incredulously for a moment, before you fell backwards in laughter. You laughed so hard tears began to slip out of your eyes. Arthur looked at you, dumbfounded. You didn’t believe him. You gasped for air, and started laughing again.

Arthur let a growl rumble from his chest, a warning. The light hair on your arms stood on end, a shiver echoing around your body. Arthur gritted his teeth, knowing you would most likely hurt him. Then, he hit you, as hard as he could without causing any serious damage. You cried out in outrage, looked back at him, and sent your fist flying into his face.

Arthur was thrown backwards into the bed, and he groaned slightly as he sat back up. You could punch, hard. You slid off the bed and walked over to a small mirror that hung on the wall between two floor-to-ceiling windows.

You gasped. Arthur’s hit had left a small cut your lip, but it was shrinking before your eyes. You watched your skin knit itself back together, caught between disgust and fascination. Soon, there was no sign that Arthur had ever hit you.

You whirled around to face the demon, who was wiping a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth. More evidence of what you were. “What the hell was that for? And if-“ you paused, swallowing, “If I’m really a…  a Lightsword, why didn’t I see any of the signs earlier?”

“I hit you so you would see what you are. You were never taught about your abilities. You had never had occasion to use them, never even known about them. Your abilities most likely lay dormant, until you needed them when I came after you.” The bruise you had left on Arthur’s face was already fading, and the humming in his blood had finally subsided.

“But, last night, when the French demon attacked me, why didn’t any of my abilities… work?” You wished for a better word than ‘work’. You sat back down on the bed.

“Again, you’ve never used them. They seem to be fairly random, at the moment.” Arthur said as he a lay back against the pillows.

“At the moment?”

“Love, what good is a Lightsword who can barely defend herself? Especially now that the entire demon underworld knows there is an active Lightsword.” Arthur closed his eyes, and you let your eyes rake over him. Suddenly, you had the strangest feeling, like your blood was humming. “It’s ironic isn’t it, a demon teaching a Lightsword.” A light smirk graced his features, and your breath caught.

“How do you know I won’t kill you?” You managed to make your voice sound even.

“Take it as a sign of good faith.”

---Timeskip---

Arthur flipped a large, green, dusty volume shut, with an aggravated sigh. He had been researching all day, looking for the cause of the chest pain, and blood hum, he had experienced while talking to you, with no luck.

You walked out of the bedroom, feet barely making a sound of the wooden floors. Arthur looked up, motioning to a chair at the table next to him. You walked over and slid into the chair, looking over the leather-bound books that littered the table.

Arthur dropped one in front of you. “This will tell you more about your powers, and how to use them. This is where we’ll start.” You coughed slightly as dust rose from the table. The pair of you poured over books for nearly an hour, before Arthur called for a break.

“Alright, love, show me what you’ve learned.” You looked at Arthur in apprehension.

“You mean, what I read?”

“Yes. Come on, now.” Arthur stood a few feet away from you.

Your mind wove through the information you had read, and you decided to try some apparently ‘basic’ magic. You sighed, and began to do as the volume had said, calming yourself. You were still for a few moments before the awake feeling flooded your body, familiar and foreign at the same time.

You directed the flow of energy to your fingertips, which was surprisingly easy, and then brought your hands together, forming a white ball of flame. Keeping the flame alive was a different matter entirely. You struggled, trying to keep the flow even, but the flame sputtered and died.

Your limbs felt heavy, and you were suddenly so tired you could sleep where you stood. “That was good, but you’ll need work.” Arthur seemed different as he motioned for you to follow as he walked into the flat’s kitchen. You leaned against the counter, closing your eyes for a moment. “Don’t fall asleep.”

You opened your eyes again, feeling that Arthur was more worried than he was letting on. You watched as he threw various herbs and a shot of whiskey into a small blender. The whirring of the blender filled your head as he turned it on. A minute later, he poured the mixture into a glass, and handed it to you.

You looked at the sickly-green liquid suspiciously. “Don’t worry, the whiskey covers the taste.” You brought the cup to your lips and tilted it up, the thick liquid sliding down your throat. It tasted like whiskey, not your favorite taste in the world, but not horrible. You felt yourself regaining energy, the tired fuzziness clearing from your brain. Arthur looked relieved.

“You used a lot of energy, that drink will replace it.” You kept sipping. Arthur touched the blender again, a bit of the drink getting on his fingers. He moved close to you, his arm brushing yours as he reached behind you, his other hand bracing himself on the counter, creating a cage around you.

Arthur grabbed the dishcloth he had been reaching for, wiping his hand off on it. You sucked in your breath as Arthur dropped the cloth and looked down at you. The very air seemed to electrify between you, and you could feel his warm breath on your lips. His scent, like roses in the rain and blood, overwhelmed you.

Arthur looked down into you (e/c) eyes. He had never felt anything like that, much less with a human. He tried to shake himself, but the feeling didn’t abate. He could smell the (favorite perfume/shampoo smell) you wore, and the way the light fell on your shoulder made him want to leave a trail of kisse-

Arthur forced himself to step away, turning to finish cleaning up.