Waiting For the End
TEMPTATION
The Itch

It has been a little more than a century since the death of the Nazarene, and Gabriel the Messenger is still on Earth. He has remained for so long in order to watch over his Father's fledgling religion... or rather, that is what he tells Michael on the rare occasion that his older brother thinks to question it.

It is that, more than anything else that has happened in the years since Lucifer's Fall, that hurts the most. Centuries ago, Michael would have been the thorn in his side; the constant watcher over his shoulder. He would have insisted on knowing everything that Gabriel was involved with, on knowing every message and all the possible trouble that he could get into earth-side. He would have been there to offer aid and even comfort if needed. Once... well. Once their brother would have been right there alongside Michael, scoffing and poking and prodding. He would teach Gabriel a trick here and there, while Michael was distracted.

Those times are long gone; Michael has become so wrapped up in training Raphael to be the 'perfect' Archangel, to become another Michael, that he has forgotten that Gabriel was already one. Michael has allowed himself to dwell on their brother's Fall and on the destruction of their family that followed. Gabriel is unfortunately aware that Michael cannot see the damage that he, himself, has done to the Host while he sits and stews on the hateful things Lucifer whispers to him through the cracks in the Cage. He has allowed those spiteful words to strike at him and penetrate all too deeply, and now all that he can see is the final battle so far into the future.

Gabriel doesn't want to think of it. He doesn't want to think about how his brothers will fight to the death, or about how many of their siblings will die just so they can have their little pissing contest. So he hides. He hides away on Earth, pretending to be a pagan while guiding the new church along the path that Father has set for it.

He's gotten pretty good at hiding, though any angel with a drop of sense to their name can still find him. All they have to do is reach out for the curious squish-crunch of Grace forced into a form too small for it. Thankfully, most of the non-human entities that populate Earth aren't quite as versed in feeling out an angel's Grace. To them he is Nal. Or rather, she is. She is one of them, just another pagan looking to make a name for herself.

It's not that hard of a sell to make when sharing the body with an actual pagan. Laufey has stirred and brushed against his grace every few years since the first anniversary of their "partnership". Each brush has gifted him with glimpse of memory and a little more knowledge of how to use her powers. It has helped him to weave the story that has bound the unlikely pair to the Nordic pagans, and it has become such a familiar touch that he barely notices it these days.

So it is that he thinks nothing of it when he feels her stir again. Nothing, that is, until a soundless voice tears a hole through his Grace, right up from where she is cocooned. The pain that lances through their abdomen is so unexpected that for a moment he loses control of the Vessel and it crumples to the ground.

"Nál!" the impetuous pagan prince that he has been whispering his father's secret too is the one that catches her, hands curling protectively into her tunic. Gabriel can see greatness and power in the future of this pagan, but without using powers that are far beyond what he can borrow from Laufey, he is unable to say just how it comes to be. At the moment, however, he is young and worried; his hands shift nervously to press against her abdomen just above her trembling arms, then against her forehead.

Gabriel laughs slightly, a weak and breathy sound, as she pushes him away. "Settle down. I'm alright, it was just an unexpected kick." The pagan's brow furrows in confusion, but Laufey's lips curve into a gentle smile that it had taken Gabriel thirty years to figure out. "Do not worry so, Borson. Nothing is wrong."

"You are... certain?"

"Of course I am. Odin, if I didn't know my own body, who else would?" Well, Gabriel supposes that Laufey would know the body better than he; by the way that she is tugging and pulling at his Grace it's obvious that she is up and wants... something. To talk, most likely. It's not really a conversation that he is looking forwards to, but it is one that needs to happen.

So she claps a hand on Odin's shoulder, presses a kiss to his forehead, and whispers a blessing in Enochian into his hair. Odin makes a face at the kiss, and Gabriel finds himself laughing again. She braces himself against his shoulder as she lurches back to her feet. "I do believe, however, that it is a sign that I should return home. We will continue out discussion another time."

"Yes, of course." He is still young enough that a mother-figure using that particular tone is not someone he wants to disagree with; it is a tone that Gabriel has forced himself to learn. She flashes him another smile and flickers away, going only so far as to hide the sound of his wings. A moment later, and he is settling them into the Garden, the only place that he can think of where they won't be bothered by angels or pagans or Christians as he tries to commune with Laufey.

He takes an unneeded breath, and then pulls up one of Laufey's oldest memories for them to speak in. It is an ancient palace sitting room, decorated with Grecian columns made of white marble. Gabriel has never seen the long destroyed Palace of the Serenities, but it is obviously their location. The Earth is a cool blue orb that hands in the sky over their heads.

"Gabriel."

He turns to face her, once more wearing Fárbauti's face. It is the only face of his that she would recognize outside of her own. "Laufey."

"Pandeia Serenity," she corrects softly, staring up at the Earth instead of at him. "You have been Laufey for far longer than I ever was."

He shrugs awkwardly as he steps up beside her. For a moment her gaze shifts from the Earth to him, and he finds the blankness of her expression to be discomforting.

"How long has it been, Gabriel?"

"One hundred and eighty-five years. Roughly." Even as he is answering her, he realizes that he has never told her his true name. He turns to ask how she knew, and the slap takes him completely by surprise.

"Two centuries! Two centuries, Gabriel? You stole my life from me!"

Maybe it's the heartache caused by Michael and Lucifer. Maybe it's the pit in his stomach that comes from watching Michael replace him with Raphael. Maybe it's the century of hiding with the humans or the decades of playing with the pagans. Maybe it's just a part of Gabriel that was never allowed to flourish in his Father's House. Whatever the reason, Gabriel grins wickedly as he laughs. "Oh Princess, the deal was that I healed your body and then I got to use it. There was no time limit on it."

She makes a frustrated little squeak before she visible collapses in on herself. "I want my life back, angel."

"Don't we all." Gabriel looks away from her with a frown, his moment of vindictive joviality vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. All he wants is for Michael to open his eyes and see what he's making Raphael and Anael and Uriel and all of their younger siblings into. He wants Lucifer to ask for forgiveness and come home. He wants to be able to walk through Heaven without thinking of ages long gone.

"I still need a Vessel, Serenity. My job is not yet finished."

"Why can't you find someone else? Why does it have to be me?" there is a plaintive whine in her voice.

"Because you are the last of your line. You had no brothers, no sisters, remember? You have no nieces or nephews that I could move on to."

"My aunts-"

"Only have half of the necessary bloodlines, Serenity. Their descendants would burn out in less than five years."

She is quiet for a long time, and Gabriel has to admit to himself that he would actually miss being Nál. Her skin has grown comfortable over the decades, and he has actually built a life for himself on Earth. The magics that are available to him through his possession of her body are something that he has almost come to rely on; a shift to a new Vessel would mean having to give all of it up. And while he knows that he doesn't have the right to her power, that he should give it all up, he's not sure if he can. He has become addicted to the bitter-sweet tang of pagan magic.

"...I can still bare children."

It takes a moment for Serenity's words to filter through, and then the Archangel's jaw drops. "What?"

Serenity looks rather displeased with her own line of thought, but she continues one before Gabriel can get his shock under control. "I am still capable of baring children and continuing the line."

"You would give up your own child to escape being my Vessel?" Gabriel's face twists unpleasantly. "If I had had any doubt that you were a pagan-"

"Look," she interrupts, and her voice sounds strained even to her, "Endymion has not yet been reborn. A child of any other union would not be recognized by Mother as part of the royal line, but is considered... considered perfectly viable if necessary to- to ensure good relations with another kingdom." She swallows heavily. "While this isn't... isn't exactly the same, the child could be considered a bridge between the host of heaven and the pagan divinities; it would not be breaking my vows."

"Raising a child for the sake being a Vessel and nothing else goes against the whole free will thing Father gave humanity."

"The child won't be human. Not enough for it to matter in any case. Gabriel. Please."

"I... I need to think about this, Serenity."

As he slips out of their shared mental landscape, Gabriel is careful not to pay attention to the way that his wings quiver. When he opens Laufey's eyes, he ignores the way that her stomach clenches. As he returns to Earth, he pretends that her mouth is not dry.

This is a temptation he is not sure he can withstand.

to quote Chuck: writing is hard. More specifically, this chapter was hard. It's been written out for longer than I've been posting this story to ffn/ao3, but I've been working on pieces of Paved and Perdition that directly effected how this one was to be written. So I had to keep going back and changing things. Then changing things in Paved. Then back to Waiting. You get the idea.

Still debating if I like the way I've written Serenity here; she's been locked in her own head for almost 200 years, and she's a lot closer to her pagan origins than Usagi is, so hopefully that balances out the fact that she's basically selling a child to Gabriel.