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041. Shapes

Aziraphale blinked. He had come to the training field, expecting to find Michael and perhaps Uriel there, supervising the warriors. What he did find, however, was everybody forming a large circle. This usually happened when Michael paired some of the better warriors together for a mock battle. As far as Aziraphale could see, though, the battle was already over. An angel lay curled on the ground, apparently in great pain. Over him stood another angel, smaller than most angels Aziraphale had ever seen. She had minimal armour over a simple white dress, which formed a clear contrast with her black hair and dark skin. As though sensing Aziraphale's approach, she turned to look at him, a hint of amusement in her green eyes.

...Wait a minute. There were very few angels with dark skin, and the eye colour... "Uriel?" gasped Aziraphale. "What on Earth..."

"Nothing much," replied a cheerful voice from his right. "Just a little lesson, nothing else."

"Michael?" Aziraphale turned towards the Marshall. "Would you care to explain just why Uriel is female? And what kind of a lesson are you talking about, exactly?"

"This one idiot," Michael pointed at the warrior withering on the ground, "claimed that women should not be allowed into Heaven's Army because they are supposedly less capable than men. In fact, he went as far as to say that even genderless angels should be thought less valuable as warriors. Well, I then told him that I believed otherwise, and that I would face him in combat in female form right away to prove my belief correct."

"So what are you doing here on the edge of the field, then?" asked Aziraphale. "Didn't he agree to your suggestion?"

"Unsurprisingly not," Michael replied. "Neither would he face any of my generals – even those who are primarily female. Then he agreed to fight if his opponent was not one of my forces."

"And then you took the closest person available, who just happened to be Uriel," Aziraphale continued dryly. "What would he have proven, anyway, if he, as a warrior, had won somebody not equally trained in the art of battle?"

"That's beyond me," Michael replied, shrugging. "Now, as he actually lost the battle, he has proven himself to be an idiot."

"Well, he probably didn't expect to go against a general," Aziraphale pointed out. "Not that Raphael is much of a warrior, mind you, but Gabriel and Uriel certainly haven't earned their general's feathers solely due to their status as archangels. Don't you fear he might claim the battle unfair?"

"What are you talking about?" Uriel asked calmly. "My value as a warrior is mostly due to my mastery of the Presence. However, I can't use that against an angel. So, if I, a knife-wielding woman little more than half of his size can win him, a sword-swinging, tall man, I do think it has been proven that female body does not make one less capable of fighting."

"How did you win him, anyway?" asked Aziraphale curiously. "I don't see any large wounds on him anywhere. What got him on the ground?"

"A simple fact of life," Michael answered in his lover's stead. "The fact being, anybody idiotic enough to make a full male effort in a battle where the opponent is known to use dirty tricks deserves to lose."

"In other words, I kneed him in the crotch," Uriel said dryly. "Maybe next time he will be more aware of the disadvantages of a male body in comparison with a female one." She flung her hair over her shoulder. "Let this be a lesson to you all," she then said loudly, glancing around at their audience. "The ability of an individual is not in their apparent gender but in their skill and wits. If anybody would like to claim that I won unfairly, they are welcome to fight with me. I promise not to go for any sensitive bits this time." She smiled coolly, her usual open and smiling attitude completely away.

Nobody stepped forth.

"So, from now on, all sexists can keep their misguided opinions to themselves," Michael announced. "An angel's gender or lack thereof is everybody's personal choice, not any reason for me or anybody else to discriminate anybody. Also," he then added, "if I ever find out that anybody, and I do mean anybody, has made a full male effort while fighting a demon, I'll send them to Raphael as trainee healers, since their place is clearly not on the battlefield. We may fight fairly, but our enemies won't. Do not ever, not even for a minute, forget that, or you lose."

"Why the long hair, Uriel?" asked Aziraphale a moment later as they made their way away from the training field. "Is it especially favoured by females nowadays?"

"Nah. It just makes for a more dramatic effect," Uriel replied with a slight smile, at the same time shaking her head. The long tresses fell away, leaving behind the usual short curls. "I'm an artist first and foremost, Aziraphale. I may not look like it, but I always think about appearances – especially when it's a performance of some kind. In such things, appearances are truly important."

"Why are you still female, then?" asked Michael. "The performance is already over."

"Oh, I just thought I'd try it out for a while. Don't you like it?" asked Uriel with a mischievous glance.

Michael grinned. "I never said that."

"Gabriel might get annoyed, though," Uriel then said. "He still hasn't gotten completely over that one painting... Ah, well. It's not my problem, is it?" She smiled in slight amusement. The expression was so painfully familiar that Aziraphale ached inwardly at the mere sight of it. Sure, it was definitely better to see Uriel smiling than depressed, but he couldn't help but remember how he had heard Uriel laugh in the old days. The archangel hadn't laughed even once since the... incident.

Neither Michael nor Uriel seemed to notice the change in his mood. Michael just smiled, settling a hand on Uriel's shoulder and drawing her closer. Usually he would have placed an arm on the other's shoulders, but their difference in height was too large for that right now.

Aziraphale did wonder, though. Just how strong were Michael's love and loyalty for him to cling to what little affection he could receive? Treasuring, remembering the rare moments when Uriel's strong emotions surfaced only to fade again, never knowing when he would feel them again? What could it be like to love somebody so much that you stayed by them even though you couldn't even know for sure whether they loved you back?

It was very difficult to imagine. Fortunately, Aziraphale would never have to experience it himself. After all, he hardly would fall in love with anyone, never mind with a being incapable of normal angelic love.

Or so he thought.

Next Prompt: Triangle