outside_omens | (no subject)

"That it does," Aziraphale said, wincing slightly as something creaked when he twisted. "Though I suppose we are built for it and ought to stay in practice."

Spring was beautiful along the Zayandeh. The scent of flowers and windswept grass still carried even through the car exhaust of the busy city. And the steam of strong, sweet coffee. It was possible they'd even make a decent baklava here.

Aziraphale thought Ellie looked tired, but calmer. He gave her a sad little smile. "So we've made some good headway on our quest, at least. We did know it wouldn't be easy."

Falling further back into a very old dialect, in which it seemed quite natural to discuss these matters, he said, "It occurred to me...and I hope this isn't too sore a subject with you...I must seem dangerously ignorant of the politics of Hell. I didn't expect to encounter a flavour of demonkind who still use the Zoroastrian names."

"And I think it must have been a revealing moment when he became so upset to be called a misfit, but I'm not certain what it revealed."

Ellie nodded, and replied in the same language, "Don't feel bad. I was guessing more than anything, based on his eyes and the weird aura. I'd never met a daeva before; I'm just going by the rumors that came down the grapevine."

She paused a moment to organize her thoughts. "You see, Morningstar didn't just want to be worshipped as the Creator's equal. He wanted everything, the whole enchalada. His own worlds and people, made in his image. He didn't abandon those ambitions after the Fall any more than the rest." She grimaced. Talking about these things did leave a sour taste in her mouth and a deep ache in places she generally tried her best to ignore. But Aziraphale had asked in good faith, and he deserved to know exactly what he was dealing with. "But of course he doesn't have that kind of power. Or even the imagination to do anything really different.

"He can change what already exists, like he did with Belial, or breed toward his notion of perfection, like Adam. Or he can take bits and pieces of other living things and remix them. The daevas are probably as close as he's ever gotten to something original, but they still turned out essentially in His image." She smiled humorlessly. "It must drive Morningstar up a wall. Word is he spoiled them rotten at first, but eliminated each in turn as soon as they disappointed him, which, of course, they were inevitably going to do. Our friend's got one monster of a Sword of Damocles hanging over his head, I expect.

"At any rate, this guy's coming at us from an entirely different world view. He's never been to Heaven, never felt the Presence, has no sense of kinship to anyone who has, and regards Lucifer as his sole progenitor." Pushing her hair back from her face, she sighed. "I shouldn't have goaded him, the poor slob. As much as I've got issues with Him Above, I don't even want to contemplate what it'd be like to have that psychopath as a father figure."

She shook her head, concluding, "But at least it's pretty easy to put a name to him. To my knowledge there's just the one left, so unless Lucifer has built a new one since I 'retired,' I'm guessing we're dealing with Asmodeus."

Ellie was clearly not happy discussing these matters and that gave Aziraphale a twinge. But he was glad he'd asked, although her answers did bring on a hint of vertigo. For millennia, he'd got himself through all sorts of uncomfortable situations and discomfiting realisations by reminding himself, sometimes at great difficulty, that they were all God's creatures, ultimately, even people like...well. Of course. In a sense. And yet also, when it came right down to it, their own. They had to be, for free will to have meaning--and it did. It had taken him so long to acknowledge it, and yet once he had...

So could it be? Was there truly a creature who was not? "I knew of the name, abstractly. But not the full story. So Lucifer tried so hard to be original, and yet wound up with a subcreation." Aziraphale paused for a moment. "Yet he didn't seem...unusually deficient, if you take my meaning. You'll have to pardon me, I'm a bit shocked that the daevas would have turned out so well. Relatively speaking. Er." He thought for another moment, processing another bit of the revelation. "And at first he treated them well, and then...I don't suppose you would happen to know how they disappointed him? I suppose what I'm getting at is," and here he lowered his voice significantly, "you know perhaps better than anyone that we all can think for ourselves, although the...propaganda...was often otherwise. That we can reach conclusions and make choices that are, well, not in the official manual, so to speak. You'd probably lose respect for me if you knew how frightened by that I once was. Do you think he's different?"

Once he'd started, best not to stop. "I wonder if he's acting under orders in trying to appoint himself her guardian. Or if he thinks it would please his master but took the initiative himself. And if so, what awaits him if it turns out he was wrong?" Or if we thwart him good.

"Well, the daevas were the end result of a long process. There's no telling how many failed experiments came before them," Ellie said darkly, thinking of some of the wretched creatures who scratched out a miserable existence in Hell's darkest corners. It was assumed that they were all just fiends, but who could say? No one cared to look too closely. "Or what deformities he may be hiding. He's powerful, as powerful as Morningstar could make him; I'm sure he can alter his appearance. But he wouldn't necessarily need to, I think. We've been building human corporations down there forever, after all." She left it at that, unwilling to distress the angel by elaborating.*

"I haven't heard many specifics, I'm afraid...there were stories about a daeva who was involved in a failed attack on a prophet, and rumors that another had been taken apart and rebuilt into several lesser demons, though I'm not sure I buy that one." She tapped her fingers on the table, thinking. "If I remember right, the Snob--sorry, Gabriel--might be able to tell you more. I remember there was something about his having thwarted a daeva, once."

She smiled sadly at Aziraphale's confession. "No, I doubt it, Aziraphale dear. I was terrified when it finally dawned on me how far beyond the scope of our jobs Tali and I had gone. What we did wasn't just forbidden, it was supposed to be flat-out impossible. That's why we went to John. We had no idea what to do without rules to guide us..."

Trailing off with a faraway look in her eyes, she fell silent for a few moments, then shook her head impatiently. "I really don't know what he might be thinking. But I know in his place I'd be absolutely petrified of displeasing Lucifer. He must be fairly sure of what he's doing..." she paused, looking thoughtful, "...assuming he's being given any kind of guidance, that is. Morningstar's attention span is a bit erratic--he's been known to develop fixations that keep him distracted for long stretches. Asmodeus could be acting as a free agent by necessity. That could very well be what tripped up his predecessors, in fact."

Another thought occurred, one that she didn't particularly want to contemplate, but it was a possibility that they probably ought to consider. "Then again...not to paint him as too sympathetic, but I suppose it's possible he was just lonely. He's the only one of his kind, a misfit, and so is she. Hard not to see a certain parallel there, I guess."

---

*Heaven had the original blueprints to work from, so to speak. Hell had been obliged to reverse engineer their version, once there were enough humans around that a few bodies wouldn't be missed.

Aziraphale shivered a little, involuntarily at the thought of those creatures...who had never seen the light of Earth, much less of Heaven. And it wasn't the first time he felt his knowledge gap acutely when speaking with a demonic friend; after all Ellie has seen Heaven, Earth, and Hell and he himself only knew two out of three.

He'd had millennia to ask Crowley for more information about everything in the corners of Hell, and yet he hadn't very often...there was a whole world right here of things to talk about, after all, and he didn't want to make his friend revisit unpleasantness, and...there were things Aziraphale did not want to know much about, honestly. Kindness or cowardice? A bit of both.

"If only I had my books," he said wistfully, remembering the ancient tomes fondly, many of which he had read so long ago their memory was dusty and ashy. And many he hadn't read since they were current, which was probably about the time the legends of the daevas were hot gossip among humans. Oh yes, there were memories. Few of which seemed immediately useful.

Aziraphale had an impulse to take Ellie's hand. He couldn't remember how long it had been since she had spoken Tali's name in a tone that relatively calm. He nodded gently. "The realisation of how far beyond our jobs we had come...came a lot more gradually for Crowley and me, I believe. Well, I can't speak for him. In my case, it's possible I didn't realise I had crossed the rubicon until I found myself perfectly willing to die to save Earth, if it came to that. At the moment, I didn't have time to be frightened. I've more than made up for that since."

"Your courage astounds me. It has as long as I've known you." He thought he ought to say something brave, and he thought of Ellie and of Tali and of John. And of Asmodeus. "I do pity him. He's not much like her, though...at the very least, Ellie, your daughter was created in love. I have to think that makes a very great difference." He looked up into her eyes. "She needs a name, Ellie. And that's a mother's prerogative."

"I know," Ellie said, smiling tightly. "I've been trying to think of something...but a name should have meaning, and I don't know her yet."

She looked down at the table. "I don't feel very brave," she confessed. "I don't think I've not been afraid since...well, since the day I found out I was pregnant. And does how she came about makes such a difference? Really? I'd like to think so, I really would. She certainly hasn't known much love since." In a bizarre way, she thought she could be almost grateful to the daeva for involving himself (if he really did have benign intentions, which she wasn't about to take for granted.) If he was teaching her how to trust, though, that would have to be a good thing. Wouldn't it? Ellie still wasn't terribly good at that herself, so it was hard to say for sure.

"Perhaps it will come to you at the right moment," Aziraphale said. "I think names have a way of that."

He smiled at her nervously. "I don't think being brave means not feeling afraid. That would just be being dense, all things considered. You've certainly been right to be frightened. But you buck up and do what you must anyway."

Aziraphale just nodded at her next question. "I think it does. No, I know so." Half-formed feelings and angelic instincts and doubts created a confusing and misty stew in his mind, and he wasn't sure exactly how to explain quite what he meant, that even those who had Fallen had been created in love once also, though in a different fashion, and had to still know in the cells of their being that love existed. It was hard to talk about these things when one didn't want to hurt or offend one's dear demon friends. He knew it, but he couldn't speak it. Not yet.

"That's reassuring, I suppose." Ellie smiled faintly. "But you know, I think you and Crowley take the prize for that. Facing Him Below with one sword, a Witchfinder and a tire iron? That's so many kinds of brave I think it must have set a record."

She hadn't consciously spoken of Aziraphale and Crowley as a pair to either one of them since the breakup. But the fact of the matter was, a pair they were, whether friends, lovers, Adversaries or co-conspirators, and one bad fight wasn't going to change that. Maybe she was just biased, having lost her own lover; but every time she thought about it she fretted that something might happen to one of them or the other, and then how would the survivor be able to live with himself?

"I'm not sure brave is the word, my dear," Aziraphale chuckled. "I think 'asinine' rather captures the flavour of it better. Or perhaps 'desperate.' After all, fleeing wasn't much of an option. Without Adam..." his voice trailed off into a shudder. "Well, at that point it had become a family matter."

He smiled wistfully. "Crowley has never needed much prompting to do insanely brave things. Tries to convince the world he's a lazy callous bastard, but, well. I worry." And I miss him terribly, he thought, but it hardly seemed right to inflict complaints about his personal dramas on Ellie of all beings...after all, Aziraphale's...beloved? Yes, still, alas...was still alive, and that meant there was always hope.

Ellie nodded, not arguing the point, though she still disagreed. Even if you were backed into a corner and doomed, meeting your fate with a weapon in your hand, with your head held high, was different than meeting it cowering or begging for mercy.

"Oh, I know," she said, smiling sadly. The day she'd first met Crowley, he had been in no condition to present any kind of front, and so she had some inkling just how illusory that cocky act of his really was.

"Do you know," she said, scanning the menu and speaking not quite casually, "that day in the greenhouse, those accusations Raphael made against him--all he was worried about was that you might believe it and not want to talk to him anymore." He'd go away forever, Crowley had said, as though that were the worst of all possible catastrophes. "I think that frightened him more than the idea that two archangels had just damn near killed him."

Aziraphale's fingers tightened around his tiny coffee cup just a little, but it had a great force behind it. "He thought I would believe that?" Then he remembered that Crowley had been all too ready to believe something nearly as absurd of him - just for long enough to do lasting damage. Aziraphale shook his head. "Crowley...would be no more capable of an act like that than I am. Not to mention that...well, if Raphael told me the grass was green, I would have to look to check, and it would probably happen to be red that day. Don't get me started on him. Oh, just don't. Please. I won't be able to stop." Thinking of all the pain Raphael had caused was making Aziraphale feel emotions quite unbecoming an angel.

"Crowley, well," Aziraphale said more softly. "Has a way of making his fears come true sometimes. Sometimes I feel he's the one who's gone away from me. The situation, I mean, the way we are...it can't stay this way, it just can't. I can't imagine not wanting to talk to him. I want that more than anything else on earth."

Ellie rested one hand in her chin, regarding the angel with an unreadable expression. "Of course you don't believe it. But we're not talking about a rational fear here. He's got abandonment issues--a lot of us do." It wasn't the easiest thing to talk about, even after all this time, but she tried not to sound too bitter. "It's easy to trust when you feel secure in His grace. I remember. None of us would have believed before the Fall that He would judge us the way He did; we couldn't even have imagined it was possible."

She shut her eyes briefly against the memory. Knowing that the Fallen had brought about their own damnation, and that it was all part of His big Plan, did nothing to lessen that sense of betrayal. They hadn't been deemed worthy of even an explanation for the severity or the permanence of their punishment. "And none of us thought afterward that it would ever be possible to trust again. Most still don't. They lost too much the first time, they aren't going to risk what's left.

"So yeah, Crowley's staying away. He's protecting himself. I'd probably do the same thing in his place." Tali hadn't lived long enough for them to have a first fight, but it probably would have happened sooner or later. "I think you're right, though; you two need each other. But I must warn you, Aziraphale dear...even if he does come to trust you again, that fear is never going to go away. Accepting Crowley means accepting that part of him, too."

"Feel secure in His grace?" Aziraphale said softly. "No...I can't say that I do. Not completely. Who can? It's so bloody ineffable, after all. Do I think Michael deserved that? No. Frankly, I don't. Or you? Or Crowley? If it were up to me...but I can never forget that it isn't."

He looked down. "I wonder if, after something like that, if trusting isn't too much to ask. The thing I have seen about humans...they fail each other. In countless little ways, all the time, and sometimes big ways. And yet, regardless...they still love. It's silly, sometimes. They do beat their heads against walls, again and again. And yet, I can't help but feel it's one of the things they do right."

"If he's trying to protect himself, I can understand that. But..." he took a deep drink and let his body absorb caffeine. "When I said I was willing to die to save the Earth, that was a half-truth. It might have only been true because Crowley was on it at the time."

Ellie smiled in an oddly serene way, and said gently, "I don't doubt that for a moment. And I'll bet Someone Else has a pretty good idea where things stand. Crowley's the one who has to get it through his thick skull." She leaned in slightly, the smile widening. "So why are you here telling me?"

Aziraphale looked up at Ellie sideways, moved by her generosity. "Well, I assume Someone Else has a good idea of all of it, but alas for us all, He's not talking." And if He did, what would He say? How could He make it right again for those who had lost so much?

"As for why I'm here telling you, why," he smiled a little. "Of course sometimes the best way to distract oneself from one's own aches and pains is to try to help someone else. I do believe we have a current quest on our hands, and I am still at your service. I haven't been to Cairo in quite some time, but perhaps we'd best be getting on with it?"

Thoose, alas, were questions to which Chantinelle did not know the answer. If she had, her own life might have turned out very different.

Reaching across the table to take and squeeze his hand, she said, "And I don't know how I could do this without you. But we'll make it home eventually. Think about it, all right?" She rose gracefully at his suggestion. "Yes, we should probably get moving. I shudder to think what those two might get up to unsupervised."

He smiled and squeezed back. "I have every intention of making it home. But at my age...one Quest at a time please."

Ellie had a way of making herself the centre of attention when standing, and Aziraphale, just briefly, allowed himself to wonder how much Crowley would enjoy that if he were here. The thought, for the first in quite a while, made his smile just a little wider.

Unsupervised. Aziraphale was hardly an expert on the subject, but it seemed to him that Ellie was already beginning to act like the mother of a difficult teenager. It was a side of her he looked forward to seeing more.

Ellie walked outside and waited until the angel had joined her. Then, masking herself from the surrounding mortals with a thought, she unfurled her wings and took to the sky, unerringly homing in on Cairo and the pair who awaited them there.

Trusting in Ellie's potent instincts, Aziraphale followed.