There was entirely too much of it going on, he thought glumly and averted his eyes from yet another suspiciously rustling shrubbery. Drawing his magnificent black wings tighter around himself, he stalked toward the lovely little rose garden where he knew he'd find her.
Novalis was busily at work in between the roses. Pencils and paints and papers were spread around her in a cheerful mess, and upon her easel there was a canvas where gorgeous shapes were taking form.
Laurence wandered over, peering curiously at the work in progress. He did have a certain weakness for art, and Novalis, for all her lack of discipline and proper behaviour, had a knack with beauty that only Eli himself was able to surpass. When he finally made sense of what he was seeing, he went from shock to outrage so fast even Janus would have been impressed.
"How DARE you sully my Archangel like that?!" he hissed furiously.
Novalis removed her paintbrush from the canvas and turned to face her unhappy visitor. "Laurence dear! I didn't hear you approach, how lovely to see you!"
Her smile was a thing of unsurpassable love and beauty, and it was all for Laurence and all pleased that he was there and oh lord of hosts she did the dimples as well this really wasn't fair. Laurence's ire calmed to exasperation as her aura of divine peace and nurturing encompassed him, as did her arms. The hug was, as always, the most wonderful experience he'd ever had.
"You seem a bit put out, love. What's the matter?" she asked him and gently stroked his inky black cheek.
"My lady Archangel, your picture... I find it rather offensive. Why do you paint such a lie?" Laurence asked and tried not to stare at the horrible image.
Novalis blinked at him and looked at her painting in puzzlement. "Offensive? Lie?! You can't be serious, Laurence. This is fiction and fantasy, but that does not make it a lie!"
"Why?!" he raged impotently at her. "Why do you paint him in this, this situation of wanton behaviour? Uriel and Michael were never like that, I would have known!"
Novalis blinked mildly at him, and on her left cheek a dimple manifested discreetly. "Why do people create works of art such as this," she mused wistfully. "Well. Me, I like the beautiful serpents."