"Surely, we can all agree it cannot be allowed to continue." Lucifer's sharp voice from the head of the table cut across rabble in the chamber, silencing his squabbling brothers. Opposite him across the long, polished sandalwood table laden with the barely touched courses of a feast, umber eyes flashed with excitement. The corner of Samael's mouth twitched as he recognized the opening Lucifer had unwittingly given him among the chaos.

At least once every decade, the eight demon kings sat at this same banquet table in Lucifer's grand ballroom and held a formal meeting in the King of Light's Byzantine palace. While other kings could easily accommodate such a gathering, the meetings were always held when and where Lucifer deemed appropriate due to the limitations of his vessels. The corporeal kings were to make every effort to attend or else face the madness of the crossed Light King. Rewards were handed out from time to time at the meetings, but more often punishments were to be expected, the most severe of all: forcible return to Gehenna via painful destruction of vessel at the hands of Lucifer himself or, occasionally, Samael.

While admittedly politically uncomfortable, Lucifer did host the kings in absolute luxury at each meeting without fail. Honey-soaked breads, candied fruits, wine and fine cannabis stuffed hookah were piled high on every table in the palace. There were endless plays, songs and tournaments in the days before the meeting for early arrival's entertainment. In the evenings, hot baths with any soak one might want, luxurious quarters with soft mattresses and fine linens, escorts and companions. Any Earthly pleasure a demon could want, all of it available in excess. All out of Lucifer's bountiful goodwill, of course.

What demon king could resist the call of such delights and risk the wrath of their superior?

The meetings and offerings served as both stick and carrot, the true purpose being Lucifer's paranoid need to monitor the other kings, constantly watching for signs of rebellion among the kings and probing developing factions or alliances before they became troublesome to him. The meetings generally devolved into mediation sessions with the higher kings resolving petty disputes between the lower. Most resolutions involved some penalty for the offending party and drawing territorial boundaries to prevent any bad blood from escalating to large scale feuds or to full blown war. Even minor clashes between kings could be devastating to the humans and cities that served them. The arrangements were often tumultuous and temporary, but the system had been effective so far in preventing the destruction of the civilized world.

At Lucifer's implicit demand for silence, the present demon kings sunk back into their seats. Of the seven others, only Samael, Ilbis, Azazel and Amaimon were in attendance this year. The only corporeal demon king missing was Astaroth, though this was by design rather than a slight by the rot king.

His presence would have made conspiring against him considerably harder.

Though if he had been present, Lucifer might have done away with his, currently, most troublesome brother already in his impatience, ruining the delicately balanced sequence of events Samael was just beginning to tease out of this otherwise worthless meeting.

After only 3 years, it seemed Lucifer's latest vessel had almost reached its limit. His constant haze of pain made him perpetually irritable and impatient, his decisions sloppily reckless. He acted without strategy or care and took well-placed advice without pause. The perfect opponent to play in circles.

Samael rested an elbow on the table and swept his long fingers across his chin, playing with his beard.

"Of course, my brother," he spoke, his smirk present in the breath of his words much to the visible displeasure of Ilbis and Azazel. The Fire and Spirit kings eyed Samael warily as his silver tongue flickered to life. "We must take action, or everything will be destroyed. After all, we owe the pleasures of Assiah to the flourishing Earth. While contained to the Far East for now if this mindless rampage continues, I fear the destruction will ultimately create a world as excruciatingly unstimulating as Gehenna itself. Allowing this to continue could absolute disturb the order of things to the point of Heavenly intervention."

Azazel tilted his head back a moment as though in thought. Samael watched. The argument for balance should just barely tilt Azazel in his favor as well.

"And what, exactly, should we do, Samael?" sneered Ilbis, recognizing Samael's intent, "Kill him?"

She turned her gaze to the King of Spirits for support, but she was too late. He faltered and looked away, saying nothing. Their shaky alliance had been built only upon opposing Samael, but at the crux of the issues at hand their foundation was weak, neither genuinely supporting the other's cause. Ultimately, Azazel accepted the need for balance superseded other disputes and was unwilling to fight for the overzealous Fire King.

Samael's glee couldn't be contained any longer. He smiled, gracefully interlocking his fingers before resting his chin on top of his hands. He closed his eyes for a moment and basked in the victory of his successfully placed wedge. When he opened his eyes again, his smile grew wider and his teeth, sharper than usual, gleamed as his appearance took on more prominently demonic features in a show of aggression toward the lesser king. His elbows slid apart slightly on the table as he leaned forward to Ilbis, facing her directly.

"Precisely," he told her, dangerous smile, laced with the smugness of victory, never leaving his face.

A nearby vase burst with flame and popped, shattering loudly when Ilbis lost her temper. Samael had bested her, easily shaking apart the flimsy alliance she had formed with Azazel. What was worse than losing to Samael was his infuriating gift for barely veiled mockery in his triumphs. He was as gifted with glib verbal seduction as he was with inconspicuous taunting, and he blatantly delighted in both. Furious he would obviously be having his way once again, she leaned in her seat towards Samael, opening her mouth to present a case that wouldn't be heard.

"Ilbis, you forget your place." Lucifer's firm gaze was upon her as he instructed, "Leave."

Ilbis receded from Samael immediately and stared back at Lucifer's end of the table blankly for a moment before smoothly rising from her chair. She bowed her head slightly towards her eldest brother, impassive face barely concealing her burning anger.

"I apologize," she said simply to the Light King before crossing the room without looking back. Her wary-looking aides rushed behind her, preparing for the temper they would surely have to endure.

The remaining demon kings sat, serious and unmoving in their seats, their eyes fixed on the banquet table before them as they waited. Only Lucifer's eyes followed her. No one spoke again as the lock of the door fell behind her.

Lucifer's eyes remained on the door glazed over in thought. He straightened up after a moment snapping his attention to the remaining attendants standing in wait along the wall of the room.

Azazel had brought a servant and a member of his own bloodline to observe the meeting. The small army of servants holding aloe, mandragora pouches and clean rags were Lucifer's nurses and care team. Both Amaimon and Samael had neglected to bring help with them this year. This was common for Amaimon, who seemed incapable of remaining in consistent contact with any creature less powerful than himself and allowing them to live for a significant period of time. Behemoth, his spirited, green Familiar sitting at his feet being the obvious exception. For Samael, the lack of servants was odd, but not unprecedented. He traveled to the meetings by Time Key, and often stepped in for the meeting and stepped out a door home as soon as it was over unless he needed to stick around for additional political maneuvers after the main event. The attendants along the wall looked uncomfortable, a couple shuffling their stances nervously as Lucifer stared.

"The rest of you. Out." He barked suddenly. They mobilized instantly, shuffling out of room obediently. Amaimon nudged Behemoth with his foot, silently ordering the hobgoblin to follow suit. The door opened, shut and locked with a click once again. Azazel broke the silence this time.

"Even if we follow this through, is it not only a temporary measure? He will struggle, but Astaroth will certainly find another vessel in due time."

Lucifer's complete attention shifted to Azazel immediately. Though Azazel did not wilt beneath his glowing eyes, the Light King's barely-checked ire filled the space between them. He was at his patience's end with this meeting and was ready to end it. By any means.

Sensing the impending escalation, Samael expertly cut in on Lucifer's behalf, "Regardless, he will recognize this measure as a punishment for his disobedience and warning of excruciating consequences should his behavior continue." He glanced to his older brother, verifying his approval before continuing with a light and lazy drawl, "I believe it will be supremely effective."

Azazel's expression was one of disapproval, but still he gave a curt nod in response. Lucifer seemed placated.

"Then it is settled. Samael, I will offer my kin to the temple's priest. You will be responsible for giving them the knowledge required to forge a demon-slaying sword fit to subdue the Impure King. And you will handle Astaroth yourself."

The Time King bowed his head in agreement no longer able to contain the self-satisfied smile crookedly playing on his lips. "Excellent."

"And what of Amaimon?" Lucifer remembered that the meeting could not yet end with a sigh of irritation that escaped his lips as more of a painful grunt. The King of Earth had been sitting quietly since Lucifer first spoke to end the bickering about the table, his posture slightly slumped and eyes down in submission. He raised his head slightly in acknowledgement of his eldest brother's attention. "He has brought a level of disorder and chaos to Egypt in this past decade that is irresponsible and unsustainable. The entire region is no longer able to provide services fit for any of us, let alone luxury goods."

"And his stolen body! You did not follow proper procedure, Amaimon!" Azazel slammed his hand on the table, forgetting Lucifer's frayed temper again. "My bloodline is not meant to serve as a bouquet of vessels for you to rifle through, Dirt King!"

Amaimon's eyes flashed at the insult. "The body was suitable and I—"

"A King as weak as yourself can certainly find another suitable host."

"I will take him," Samael offered, cutting in expertly. Amaimon's body visibly unwound but he remained stone-faced. "Though the damage has been severe, the wounds of his recklessness will fade naturally with time. Not to mention, he may be of some use to me in my efforts to stabilize the East, if necessary. A beast on a leash for a shock and awe campaign if all else fails."

The Earth King raised his head to regard Samael. He kept his back slouched in his chair as his eyes flicked to his savior brother. His face remained unchanged except for the slightest crinkle of his brow, barely creasing his placid skin. This had undoubtedly been one of his more disastrous meetings.

"If he disobeys or causes further trouble," Samael continued to Lucifer without so much as a glance to his young brother, "I will kill him, too."

Amaimon was suspended between the wills of his two eldest brothers for a moment. If Samael had his way, he was not sure what the future would hold. If Lucifer were to snap instead, Amaimon would likely find himself back in the hellish nothingness of Gehenna at any moment, stripped from his, admittedly, illicitly obtained body.

Lucifer nodded and Amaimon was spared. "In the future, Azazel, your bloodline will be considered protected and not appropriate for use as vessels. Amaimon's imprisonment for the time and terms of Samael's discretion ought to serve as penance enough for his recent crimes." After a brief coughing fit Lucifer continued, "I have no other business at this time," he told Samael, "and no interest in any more of your lesser squabbles," he spat towards Azazel and Amaimon.

"Of course," Samael said with a growing smile. It had been quite a productive meeting for him after all. "Please, take care, my brother."

"And you," the Light King responded as he stiffly rose to his feet. His posture remained regal as he painfully strode across the hall and out the door towards his chambers, almost but not quite able to hide the limp in his gait through force of will and pride. His attendants rushed him at the door to immediately begin the long aftercare ritual he required following such an eventful day. Azazel's servant and kin remained respectfully outside of the hall, but Behemoth sloppily half-ran, half-rolled back to his spot near Amaimon's feet.

Azazel eyed the green, drooling blob with disdain before turning to Samael indignantly, "And just why are you involving yourself in this?" he hissed, gesturing towards Amaimon in his stolen fair-haired, blue-eyed vessel.

"Proper execution of justice requires a fair and unbiased third-party to administer punishment."

Azazel huffed and stood to leave.

"Not that it's any of my business, Samael, but if you're going to play favorites among the Kings," Samael snorted at that and Azazel paused for a moment to look at him sternly. "You could certainly choose more powerful and reliable allies than Amaimon."

"I am still here, you know." Amaimon bleated, digging his claws in to pick at an intricately designed savory game pie a full arm's reach away from his seat. Azazel gaped at his table manner.

Samael took the opening for a quick jab at the Spirit King, "Hmm, a more powerful ally...like you? Was there something you had in mind?" He cocked his head slightly at Azazel, regarding his brother from his head of the table. Amaimon chewed loudly and looked back and forth between the two before scanning the table for dishes he may have overlooked, finally free after the excruciating meeting to dig in.

Samael raised an eyebrow Azazel's way before fiddling with a hookah on the floor to his right, poking at a softly glowing coal with the tip of his claw. "Astaroth's behavior isn't the only unsustainable nuisance in this world now, is it?" He said in an absentminded tone that was markedly inconsistent with his alert body language and very interested eyes.

Azazel narrowed his eyes at Samael, recognizing his attempt at a probe, "Just what are you playing at this time?"

Samael smiled to himself and twirled the hose of his hookah about in his hand. The base bubbled as he took several long drags, letting the thick, sweet smoke fall out of his mouth and nose before Azazel finally gave up with a sigh.

"I see. I am growing much too tired and slow for these little chess games, you know. I believe our ultimate goals to be in alignment. For the sake of that only," he emphasized with a glare towards Amaimon who was pointedly looking away and now kneeling on his chair, doubling his range to pick with interest at sweet breads scattered on the otherwise ignored table, "I will not question your judgment. For now."

"I appreciate that, brother." Samael said softly as the Spirit King turned, leaving to gather his company and prepare for the journey home.

Standing himself, Samael turned to his attention to his foul-mannered younger brother.

"Come, Amaimon, there's no time to waste."

"Mmph?" Amaimon struggled to swallow a large chunk of a chewy raisin bread. "We aren't staying for dinner?"

Samael tutted softly at his brother. "Don't be rude. I, for one, have been here for a day and a half already! We've quite overstayed our welcome, I believe." Lucifer may stack the place with treats, but the gathering of so many supremely powerful entities for any extended time was always stifling.

"Don't worry," Samael shook his ring of magic keys with a wink, "it will be a short trip."

They stepped before the heavy wooden doors together. Samael turned the appropriate key in the lock, and with a dramatic flair, he flung the door open and gestured with both arms for Amaimon to continue ahead.

"After you, dear brother!"

A/N: Hi, everyone and thank you for reading! I just discovered Ao No Exorcist, and the monthly wait for every chapter has been killing me. I finally have the time (and confidence) to put out some fanwork of my own, so I hope you all enjoy my contribution. This will be a multichapter story that I plan to update biweekly/monthly, life permitting. I'll also be crossposting this to ao3 once I get my account set up there.

A warning to all: I am both lazy and busy, so I won't be doing research to make this work very historically accurate. There will be a lot of anachronistic phrases/objects/etc because I'm more focused on what's happening than those sorts of details, so I apologize for that!

I plan for this story to focus primarily on Amaimon and Mephisto, but there will be some time skips (flashforwards?) to the "present day" universe, and we will see some other characters later on.