Fic: A History of Heaven (Gabriel/Various Angels, PG-13 for this chapter) 44/59
** CHAPTER 30 HAS BEEN UPDATED**
To reflect the events of Episode 9.06, a scene in Chapter 30 has been extended. The new content is live.
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: Sammael = Lucifer
I want to apologize early on for this story's strong Christian tones. I originally wanted to at least give all of the Abrahamic religions a fairly equal showing in this story, but really only Jesus' intersected neatly enough with the timeline of Gabriel's story to get a full mini-arc of its own. I did do my research on all three, and there were going to be all these scenes and adventures and... it just didn't matter in Gabriel's eyes. So for all you non-Christians out there, I do apologize for the unequal treatment here.
I blame Gabriel. He was controlling my muse.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 1,345
Chapter Summary: Gabriel has a biblical message to carry to a priest named Zechariah.
CHAPTER 44:
Hello, Zechariah
The old man's eyes were half-closed as he performed the rite of the incense offering all alone in the sanctuary of the temple. His lips formed each word deliberately, rapt devotion etched into his face as he went through the steps he knew by heart. Gabriel watched his hands move, listened to his prayers, and was bored.
It wasn't the old man, Zechariah's, fault. For a priest, he was genuinely incredibly devoted, with a true faith in God that burned like a flame within his soul. Gabriel was just tired of watching over all the rites and incantations that these temple ceremonies required. God didn't actually care. Not about the pageantry. The faith was what was important, but even more than the faith, just love alone earned God's favor. A flawed man who genuinely loved something, even if it were only his dog or his home, was greater than a man who loved nothing but followed all the rules.
Zechariah had the best kinds of love, love for God, love for his faith, love for his religion. He also had love for his wife and the people who looked to him for guidance. He was a good man, albeit one who had led a boring and safe life.
Gabriel had seen a lot of these men lately. God had been sending him on Messenger errand after Messenger errand, bringing His word to His people. Prophets were popping up all over, with never a moment's rest between them. One of Gabriel's tasks as the Archangel watching over Earth was to protect the current prophet of the Lord. He had tried to pass the task off to Raphael, claiming that defense clearly fell under Raphael's jurisdiction, but Raphael passed it right back insisting that prophets bore the message and that was a job for the Messenger, trumping everything else.
That had been back in the days when Michael still laughed, and he had laughed at both of them before tugging Gabriel aside and pointing out that setting Raphael to guard the prophets was like setting a fox to guard chickens-eventually, it would end with a big mess and a lot of blood. Gabriel had “diplomatic skills” that would be far more useful in this particular situation.
So Gabriel flew to Earth frequently, slotting messages into the prophets' dreams, smiting demons who tried to get too close (and some humans who tried to cut down the prophets before their time). When God told him to stop, Gabriel would stand back and let the prophets be killed, if that was their fate, or he would wait with them until their Reaper came if they were permitted a natural death of old age or sickness.
Prophets were jackasses. Once they realized they had an Archangel at their beck and call, they tended to abuse that power. Most of them liked sending Gabriel to bring back souls so they could be seen raising the dead. Jeremiah seemed to find fun in intentionally pissing people off and making Gabriel save him. Gabriel hated being their baby-sitter, but at least he didn't have to sit on their shoulder constantly. He could do other things with only one ear turned toward them in case they called.
Zechariah wasn't a prophet. He was just a priest, just an old man, but he was destined to father a prophet. For some reason, in the depths of His unfathomable mind, God had decided that Zechariah needed to be warned about this in advance. So Gabriel stood beside the altar, waiting for him to finish his prayer. It would be rude to interrupt.
The priest finished the rite with a murmured Amen and a firm nod to himself accompanied by a mental There, that's done it loud enough for Gabriel to hear without even trying. The angel unveiled himself, revealing his vessel just as the man lifted his head and opened his eyes.
Zechariah's reaction would have been priceless if Gabriel hadn't seen it a thousand times over already. The man clutched at his heart, staggering back, his eyes nearly bulging from his head. “How, you, who!?”
“Do not be afraid, Zechariah,” Gabriel intoned, the words as dry as the Sahara, “for your prayer has been heard.” He hated word-for-word messages. They were always so boring. “Your wife, Elizabeth, will bear you a son, and you will name him John.” And others will add 'the Baptist,' because that is the name I know him as on my list of prophets. “You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord.”
Zechariah wasn't looking much less afraid. Gabriel tried to throw in a smile, see if that helped. Nope. The old man was still terrified. Gabriel let his expression return to neutral. “He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah,” Oh Father, do not get him started on Elijah's pyrophilia, “he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”
And done! Gabriel's smile now was less forced, as the message had been delivered and he could now head back to Cariel, provided-
“How can this be? Because I'm an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.”
Provided Zechariah didn't ask stupid questions. “I am Gabriel,” Gabriel answered. His name was already known to God's chosen people as the Messenger of Heaven. He was one of only a handful of angels that they actually knew. Michael and Raphael's names were also fairly well known. None of the humans had heard of Cariel, because Cariel deliberately made sure his name was never mentioned. “I stood in the presence of God, and I was sent to bring you this news.”
Zechariah looked like he was about to ask another question. Gabriel narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers, casting a silent hex. You are getting a message directly from the mouth of God Himself, and you doubt me!? “Because you don't believe my words, which will be fulfilled, I have made you mute, unable to speak, until your son is born. Any further questions?”
Zechariah's mouth opened and closed uselessly, and Gabriel smiled thinly at the man. “You have faith in the Lord. Don't question Him again. Or me, when I'm speaking with His words.” He'd remove the spell once John was born, but for now, Gabriel simply folded his wings around himself, hiding from Zechariah's sight.
A snicker echoed in Gabriel's mind, emanating from behind the altar. Gabriel turned to see Cariel unveiling. The Seraph, so much weaker than the Archangels, had been able to hide from Gabriel's senses. “Impatient much?” Both angels were hidden from the human now. Gabriel could finally roll his eyes in exasperation.
“It's not him, it's just…”
“Isn't this the fifty-eighth message you've delivered to humans this year?” Cariel asked.
“Even my patience has limits,” Gabriel concluded with a little nod. “It wouldn't be such a pain if they didn't always react the same. They want proof that we exist, but when we appear right in front of them, that's when they bring out the doubt!”
“Maybe next time, show some wing?” Cariel suggested, spreading his own. “You know. Spice it up a bit.”
“Spice it up?” It was all Gabriel could do not to laugh. “I'm the Messenger, Cariel, not the Escort!”
“He's imagined angels all his life,” Cariel said, pointing after where Zechariah had gone, out of the sanctuary. “I'd bet he's always imagined us with wings. Without wings, you're just another human.”
“So the next time I go to deliver a message to a human, you think I should show off my wings?”
Cariel nodded. “Maybe they'll doubt less if you're more like how they imagined.”
Next...
To reflect the events of Episode 9.06, a scene in Chapter 30 has been extended. The new content is live.
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: Sammael = Lucifer
I want to apologize early on for this story's strong Christian tones. I originally wanted to at least give all of the Abrahamic religions a fairly equal showing in this story, but really only Jesus' intersected neatly enough with the timeline of Gabriel's story to get a full mini-arc of its own. I did do my research on all three, and there were going to be all these scenes and adventures and... it just didn't matter in Gabriel's eyes. So for all you non-Christians out there, I do apologize for the unequal treatment here.
I blame Gabriel. He was controlling my muse.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 1,345
Chapter Summary: Gabriel has a biblical message to carry to a priest named Zechariah.
CHAPTER 44:
Hello, Zechariah
The old man's eyes were half-closed as he performed the rite of the incense offering all alone in the sanctuary of the temple. His lips formed each word deliberately, rapt devotion etched into his face as he went through the steps he knew by heart. Gabriel watched his hands move, listened to his prayers, and was bored.
It wasn't the old man, Zechariah's, fault. For a priest, he was genuinely incredibly devoted, with a true faith in God that burned like a flame within his soul. Gabriel was just tired of watching over all the rites and incantations that these temple ceremonies required. God didn't actually care. Not about the pageantry. The faith was what was important, but even more than the faith, just love alone earned God's favor. A flawed man who genuinely loved something, even if it were only his dog or his home, was greater than a man who loved nothing but followed all the rules.
Zechariah had the best kinds of love, love for God, love for his faith, love for his religion. He also had love for his wife and the people who looked to him for guidance. He was a good man, albeit one who had led a boring and safe life.
Gabriel had seen a lot of these men lately. God had been sending him on Messenger errand after Messenger errand, bringing His word to His people. Prophets were popping up all over, with never a moment's rest between them. One of Gabriel's tasks as the Archangel watching over Earth was to protect the current prophet of the Lord. He had tried to pass the task off to Raphael, claiming that defense clearly fell under Raphael's jurisdiction, but Raphael passed it right back insisting that prophets bore the message and that was a job for the Messenger, trumping everything else.
That had been back in the days when Michael still laughed, and he had laughed at both of them before tugging Gabriel aside and pointing out that setting Raphael to guard the prophets was like setting a fox to guard chickens-eventually, it would end with a big mess and a lot of blood. Gabriel had “diplomatic skills” that would be far more useful in this particular situation.
So Gabriel flew to Earth frequently, slotting messages into the prophets' dreams, smiting demons who tried to get too close (and some humans who tried to cut down the prophets before their time). When God told him to stop, Gabriel would stand back and let the prophets be killed, if that was their fate, or he would wait with them until their Reaper came if they were permitted a natural death of old age or sickness.
Prophets were jackasses. Once they realized they had an Archangel at their beck and call, they tended to abuse that power. Most of them liked sending Gabriel to bring back souls so they could be seen raising the dead. Jeremiah seemed to find fun in intentionally pissing people off and making Gabriel save him. Gabriel hated being their baby-sitter, but at least he didn't have to sit on their shoulder constantly. He could do other things with only one ear turned toward them in case they called.
Zechariah wasn't a prophet. He was just a priest, just an old man, but he was destined to father a prophet. For some reason, in the depths of His unfathomable mind, God had decided that Zechariah needed to be warned about this in advance. So Gabriel stood beside the altar, waiting for him to finish his prayer. It would be rude to interrupt.
The priest finished the rite with a murmured Amen and a firm nod to himself accompanied by a mental There, that's done it loud enough for Gabriel to hear without even trying. The angel unveiled himself, revealing his vessel just as the man lifted his head and opened his eyes.
Zechariah's reaction would have been priceless if Gabriel hadn't seen it a thousand times over already. The man clutched at his heart, staggering back, his eyes nearly bulging from his head. “How, you, who!?”
“Do not be afraid, Zechariah,” Gabriel intoned, the words as dry as the Sahara, “for your prayer has been heard.” He hated word-for-word messages. They were always so boring. “Your wife, Elizabeth, will bear you a son, and you will name him John.” And others will add 'the Baptist,' because that is the name I know him as on my list of prophets. “You will have joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord.”
Zechariah wasn't looking much less afraid. Gabriel tried to throw in a smile, see if that helped. Nope. The old man was still terrified. Gabriel let his expression return to neutral. “He must never drink wine or strong drink; even before his birth he will be filled with the Holy Spirit. He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah,” Oh Father, do not get him started on Elijah's pyrophilia, “he will go before him, to turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord.”
And done! Gabriel's smile now was less forced, as the message had been delivered and he could now head back to Cariel, provided-
“How can this be? Because I'm an old man, and my wife is getting on in years.”
Provided Zechariah didn't ask stupid questions. “I am Gabriel,” Gabriel answered. His name was already known to God's chosen people as the Messenger of Heaven. He was one of only a handful of angels that they actually knew. Michael and Raphael's names were also fairly well known. None of the humans had heard of Cariel, because Cariel deliberately made sure his name was never mentioned. “I stood in the presence of God, and I was sent to bring you this news.”
Zechariah looked like he was about to ask another question. Gabriel narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers, casting a silent hex. You are getting a message directly from the mouth of God Himself, and you doubt me!? “Because you don't believe my words, which will be fulfilled, I have made you mute, unable to speak, until your son is born. Any further questions?”
Zechariah's mouth opened and closed uselessly, and Gabriel smiled thinly at the man. “You have faith in the Lord. Don't question Him again. Or me, when I'm speaking with His words.” He'd remove the spell once John was born, but for now, Gabriel simply folded his wings around himself, hiding from Zechariah's sight.
A snicker echoed in Gabriel's mind, emanating from behind the altar. Gabriel turned to see Cariel unveiling. The Seraph, so much weaker than the Archangels, had been able to hide from Gabriel's senses. “Impatient much?” Both angels were hidden from the human now. Gabriel could finally roll his eyes in exasperation.
“It's not him, it's just…”
“Isn't this the fifty-eighth message you've delivered to humans this year?” Cariel asked.
“Even my patience has limits,” Gabriel concluded with a little nod. “It wouldn't be such a pain if they didn't always react the same. They want proof that we exist, but when we appear right in front of them, that's when they bring out the doubt!”
“Maybe next time, show some wing?” Cariel suggested, spreading his own. “You know. Spice it up a bit.”
“Spice it up?” It was all Gabriel could do not to laugh. “I'm the Messenger, Cariel, not the Escort!”
“He's imagined angels all his life,” Cariel said, pointing after where Zechariah had gone, out of the sanctuary. “I'd bet he's always imagined us with wings. Without wings, you're just another human.”
“So the next time I go to deliver a message to a human, you think I should show off my wings?”
Cariel nodded. “Maybe they'll doubt less if you're more like how they imagined.”
Next...