Trials of the Adversary
Title: Trials of the Adversary
Author: redsilkribbons
Series: Bible
Pairing: gen, Jesus, Lucifer
Rating: PG
Warnings: Blasphemy, probably.
Summary: Conversations in a desert.
Word Count: ~1900
Also posted here.
When I open my eyes, it’s the twenty-first day. My hands are numb when I watch the sun rising for the twenty-first time. Soon, it will climb in the sky and everything will go hazy from the heat. I am half-way there,I tell myself. And he hasn’t shown himself yet. When I sit down, the ground is still cold beneath me and it helps me regain my resolve. I return to my meditations.
***********
The smug bastard knows I’m coming. It’s fucking unfair. He’s known the ins and outs of this ridiculous business for years. He’s losing focus now. The tactical decision to let him rot in his own piss for twenty days was sound. I have the upper hand. It’s time to go.
*********
It’s well past noon when his shadow falls over me and I am ready. He is unruffled and clad in black and he shines brighter than desert sun.
He sits across from me and smiles. “Hello, brother,” he says.
“You are no brother of mine.” I reply. I cannot look him in the face. He bothers me. He terrifies me.
“As you wish,” he replies, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I mean you no harm. I’ve only come to talk.”
“I will not be swayed from my task.”
“Then you have nothing to fear. I just think we have a lot in common, you and I.”
“We are nothing alike. I bid you, leave me in solitude.” I can feel him looking at me. My skin is prickling.
“You’re favoured. You’ve been chosen. I’ve been in your shoes and it’s a lot to ask of one man.”
“I have been given the strength to perform my duty,” I say. I am looking at the sand. I must not lose focus.
He stretches his legs out before him and leans back. His polished shoes come into sight. “Oh yes, I know,” he says. You have all that power and no say in how to use it.”
“I have been blessed. My purpose is to serve.”
“And what do you hope to achieve?” he asks. When I look up, he is lighting a cigarette. He looks up and exhales plumes of smoke into the sky.
“It is not for me to question. It will be for the best.” I say.
He laughs and it makes me want to fidget; to uncross my legs and wring my hands. But I will not let him know my discomfort.
“It may be,” he says, “but you can never know that.” I see him lean forward from the corner of my eye. And he is looking at me again.“You have a choice,” he says. “You can use your gifts to help people; to make a life of your own. They are yours to do with what you choose.”
“I cannot.” I say.
“You’d be surprised at what you’re capable of. You can start small.” He waves his hands expansively. “Tell these stones to become bread.”
I meet his eyes for the first time. It hurts to look at him. “I cannot abandon my faith,” I say. “Man does not live on bread alone.”
“You should not have to give up claim to you own life for your faith.” He stubs out his cigarette and stands up. “I’ll see you soon,” he smirks.
***********
I think our dear Father has lowered his standards tremendously. What a sanctimonious little shit this one turned out to be. Who did he think he was, parroting the party line to me. Me. As if I don’t know. I, who was most loved. I can just picture the fool hanging on every word imparted, waiting for some sort of greater design to show itself. I fucking hate dealing with humans. Humans can fence-sit and waffle. Until they actually do something, it’s a moot point. Angels are easy. You just have to make them doubt. Just once. After that, it’s a free fall. I should know. I was fucking played.
***********
When he comes back, he comes at night. I have fallen into a doze but I hear him shuffle his feet before he sits down.
“You’re holding up well”, he says. “You must be chilled through.” He offers me his grey blazer and adds, “the cold doesn’t bother me.”
“I have already been provided with what I need,” I tell him. It’s the truth. I will only feel the cold on my skin when the sun starts to rise.
“Mmm. I’m sure you’re perfectly capable,” he says. He sprawls on the ground beside me with his jacket folded under his head. His body emanates inhuman heat. “No reason to turn down the creature comforts.”
“It would not be a test of faith without sacrifice,” I say.
“A test of faith,” he muses, sitting up. “And has your faith never wavered?”
“You know very well that I have never faltered.”
He leans forward and holds out his hand. “I want to show you something,” he says. “Come with me.”
“I am not so easily fooled,” I say.
“I said I wouldn’t harm you. I don’t think I could, even if I tried. I just want to show you something.”
The moment I touch his hand, the sand gives way beneath me and we are atop a temple in Jerusalem.
He looks at me with his burning eyes and says, “Jump.”
“I thought you did not wish to hurt me,” I say.
“If He always provides for you, then He’ll send reinforcements. You won’t even bruise. Jump.”
“It is not my place to test my Father,” I reply.
He smiles a bitter, twisted smile at me. “Of course not. He never was one for reciprocity.”
“Our father rewards our faith,” I say. I refuse to look down and I cannot look at his face. “If it is His will, we should not question him.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew of all the things he has willed into being.”
When I blink, I am sitting cross-legged in the desert once more and the sun is rising. It is the thirty-first morning.
***********
I hate Him. When I think about what I’m up against, I feel so cripplingly useless. I’m not stupid, you know. After all this time I know my Father. He’s a manipulative fuck. At times, I think He’s better at conning people than me. And my technique is perfect. I have style; standards. I never lie. Never needed to. It doesn’t matter whether He lies or not. He knows just which buttons to push to make things go his way. He had it easy with me, I’ll admit. Angels are like well-crafted, beautifully predictable machines. All he had to do was talk to me. Just that once. And the pieces just fell into place. His words sowed distrust in my brothers and their distrust caused doubt in me and that was that. There’s no forgiveness for Angels. We don’t get second chances. Humans are like dogs. They’re easily managed and easily seduced, but occasionally, one of them will surprise you. That’s what I’m counting on.
***********
It’s the last day and I am exhausted. The sun is rising and someone is coming. I see him just as the stars fades from the sky. He sits across from me. He is smoking again.
“You’re almost done,” he says.
“Everything is happening as my Father has said,” I reply.
He smiles at me. “It doesn’t have to, you know,” he says.
“He is the Father of everything. It must be as he says.”
“Your father gave you the gift of choice.” He sounds very serious now. “It’s your divine right to exercise your will.”
It’s the last day and I am exhausted. He has been talking in circles for hours.
“You know you will not win this fight” I say, feeling reckless. “Why do you tempt me?”
“I have to try, don’t I?” he says. “Your death will bring about mine, in time.”
“Why do you not repent?” I ask.
He leans forward and looks earnest. “I want to make amends,” he says. “I can only do it with your help. Let me show you.”
This time I take his hand without hesitating. He takes me to a mountain. We are very high up; I see thin clouds below me and beyond that, I see the whole world laid at my feet.
“I have dominion over all this,” he tells me. “If you join me, we can do good. We can serve humanity. And maybe I can earn forgiveness.”
My throat is dry and he is still holding my hand. “Why can you not make amends alone? Why should you need me?” I ask.
He turns his eyes on me and I quake. They are raw and feverish. I realize for the first time that he is desperate. “I can’t,” he tells me. “I don’t have that kind of power.”
“Why?” I ask. “You were good once. Why can’t you go back?”
“I’m not human. I can’t choose to change. I was willed to be this way. Do you think that’s fair?”
“You disobeyed,” I say, angry. “You made a mistake.”
When he turns to me, I feel his rage shake the ground beneath my feet. “I couldn’t have become this way if He didn’t want me to,” he spits. “You’re supposed to be good and forgiving. You can do anything with your power. If you choose to go off script, you can make me good and everything will be good again.”
“Our father has a plan. Following him cannot be wrong. Why should I do your bidding?” I say.
“We can use your gifts and mine to make the world like heaven. We can give people heaven tomorrow. How could that not be the right thing to do?”
“You must think me a fool,” I say. “Were I to follow you, I would face His wrath as you did. Why would I agree to such a thing?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do. Don’t you want to help make things right?” Now he turns to face me once more.
“I cannot.” I tell him. “I trust my Father to take care of me and I will obey him in return.” I feel helpless and I tell him, “I must do what is written.”
He stands up and walks toward me and I am paralyzed with fear. We are nose to nose. “You’re a filthy coward,” he says, and I close my eyes.
It’s the last day and I am exhausted. The sun is rising and someone is coming.
***********
The end is coming and it’s going to be over so fucking fast. There was a time when I made it a point to stay out of this stinking pit but now I really don’t want to go up there. I know he’s waiting for me and I can’t believe that that hypocritical, spineless asshole will be one to kill me. It’s time to go.
***********
He’s here. He is as bright and terrible as I remember. He’s fighting hard. When he meets my eyes, it is as if he doesn’t know me. I feel guilty; I want to apologize, but he’s too far away. I know what I must do and I raise my hand.
***********
Author: redsilkribbons
Series: Bible
Pairing: gen, Jesus, Lucifer
Rating: PG
Warnings: Blasphemy, probably.
Summary: Conversations in a desert.
Word Count: ~1900
Also posted here.
When I open my eyes, it’s the twenty-first day. My hands are numb when I watch the sun rising for the twenty-first time. Soon, it will climb in the sky and everything will go hazy from the heat. I am half-way there,I tell myself. And he hasn’t shown himself yet. When I sit down, the ground is still cold beneath me and it helps me regain my resolve. I return to my meditations.
***********
The smug bastard knows I’m coming. It’s fucking unfair. He’s known the ins and outs of this ridiculous business for years. He’s losing focus now. The tactical decision to let him rot in his own piss for twenty days was sound. I have the upper hand. It’s time to go.
*********
It’s well past noon when his shadow falls over me and I am ready. He is unruffled and clad in black and he shines brighter than desert sun.
He sits across from me and smiles. “Hello, brother,” he says.
“You are no brother of mine.” I reply. I cannot look him in the face. He bothers me. He terrifies me.
“As you wish,” he replies, raising his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I mean you no harm. I’ve only come to talk.”
“I will not be swayed from my task.”
“Then you have nothing to fear. I just think we have a lot in common, you and I.”
“We are nothing alike. I bid you, leave me in solitude.” I can feel him looking at me. My skin is prickling.
“You’re favoured. You’ve been chosen. I’ve been in your shoes and it’s a lot to ask of one man.”
“I have been given the strength to perform my duty,” I say. I am looking at the sand. I must not lose focus.
He stretches his legs out before him and leans back. His polished shoes come into sight. “Oh yes, I know,” he says. You have all that power and no say in how to use it.”
“I have been blessed. My purpose is to serve.”
“And what do you hope to achieve?” he asks. When I look up, he is lighting a cigarette. He looks up and exhales plumes of smoke into the sky.
“It is not for me to question. It will be for the best.” I say.
He laughs and it makes me want to fidget; to uncross my legs and wring my hands. But I will not let him know my discomfort.
“It may be,” he says, “but you can never know that.” I see him lean forward from the corner of my eye. And he is looking at me again.“You have a choice,” he says. “You can use your gifts to help people; to make a life of your own. They are yours to do with what you choose.”
“I cannot.” I say.
“You’d be surprised at what you’re capable of. You can start small.” He waves his hands expansively. “Tell these stones to become bread.”
I meet his eyes for the first time. It hurts to look at him. “I cannot abandon my faith,” I say. “Man does not live on bread alone.”
“You should not have to give up claim to you own life for your faith.” He stubs out his cigarette and stands up. “I’ll see you soon,” he smirks.
***********
I think our dear Father has lowered his standards tremendously. What a sanctimonious little shit this one turned out to be. Who did he think he was, parroting the party line to me. Me. As if I don’t know. I, who was most loved. I can just picture the fool hanging on every word imparted, waiting for some sort of greater design to show itself. I fucking hate dealing with humans. Humans can fence-sit and waffle. Until they actually do something, it’s a moot point. Angels are easy. You just have to make them doubt. Just once. After that, it’s a free fall. I should know. I was fucking played.
***********
When he comes back, he comes at night. I have fallen into a doze but I hear him shuffle his feet before he sits down.
“You’re holding up well”, he says. “You must be chilled through.” He offers me his grey blazer and adds, “the cold doesn’t bother me.”
“I have already been provided with what I need,” I tell him. It’s the truth. I will only feel the cold on my skin when the sun starts to rise.
“Mmm. I’m sure you’re perfectly capable,” he says. He sprawls on the ground beside me with his jacket folded under his head. His body emanates inhuman heat. “No reason to turn down the creature comforts.”
“It would not be a test of faith without sacrifice,” I say.
“A test of faith,” he muses, sitting up. “And has your faith never wavered?”
“You know very well that I have never faltered.”
He leans forward and holds out his hand. “I want to show you something,” he says. “Come with me.”
“I am not so easily fooled,” I say.
“I said I wouldn’t harm you. I don’t think I could, even if I tried. I just want to show you something.”
The moment I touch his hand, the sand gives way beneath me and we are atop a temple in Jerusalem.
He looks at me with his burning eyes and says, “Jump.”
“I thought you did not wish to hurt me,” I say.
“If He always provides for you, then He’ll send reinforcements. You won’t even bruise. Jump.”
“It is not my place to test my Father,” I reply.
He smiles a bitter, twisted smile at me. “Of course not. He never was one for reciprocity.”
“Our father rewards our faith,” I say. I refuse to look down and I cannot look at his face. “If it is His will, we should not question him.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew of all the things he has willed into being.”
When I blink, I am sitting cross-legged in the desert once more and the sun is rising. It is the thirty-first morning.
***********
I hate Him. When I think about what I’m up against, I feel so cripplingly useless. I’m not stupid, you know. After all this time I know my Father. He’s a manipulative fuck. At times, I think He’s better at conning people than me. And my technique is perfect. I have style; standards. I never lie. Never needed to. It doesn’t matter whether He lies or not. He knows just which buttons to push to make things go his way. He had it easy with me, I’ll admit. Angels are like well-crafted, beautifully predictable machines. All he had to do was talk to me. Just that once. And the pieces just fell into place. His words sowed distrust in my brothers and their distrust caused doubt in me and that was that. There’s no forgiveness for Angels. We don’t get second chances. Humans are like dogs. They’re easily managed and easily seduced, but occasionally, one of them will surprise you. That’s what I’m counting on.
***********
It’s the last day and I am exhausted. The sun is rising and someone is coming. I see him just as the stars fades from the sky. He sits across from me. He is smoking again.
“You’re almost done,” he says.
“Everything is happening as my Father has said,” I reply.
He smiles at me. “It doesn’t have to, you know,” he says.
“He is the Father of everything. It must be as he says.”
“Your father gave you the gift of choice.” He sounds very serious now. “It’s your divine right to exercise your will.”
It’s the last day and I am exhausted. He has been talking in circles for hours.
“You know you will not win this fight” I say, feeling reckless. “Why do you tempt me?”
“I have to try, don’t I?” he says. “Your death will bring about mine, in time.”
“Why do you not repent?” I ask.
He leans forward and looks earnest. “I want to make amends,” he says. “I can only do it with your help. Let me show you.”
This time I take his hand without hesitating. He takes me to a mountain. We are very high up; I see thin clouds below me and beyond that, I see the whole world laid at my feet.
“I have dominion over all this,” he tells me. “If you join me, we can do good. We can serve humanity. And maybe I can earn forgiveness.”
My throat is dry and he is still holding my hand. “Why can you not make amends alone? Why should you need me?” I ask.
He turns his eyes on me and I quake. They are raw and feverish. I realize for the first time that he is desperate. “I can’t,” he tells me. “I don’t have that kind of power.”
“Why?” I ask. “You were good once. Why can’t you go back?”
“I’m not human. I can’t choose to change. I was willed to be this way. Do you think that’s fair?”
“You disobeyed,” I say, angry. “You made a mistake.”
When he turns to me, I feel his rage shake the ground beneath my feet. “I couldn’t have become this way if He didn’t want me to,” he spits. “You’re supposed to be good and forgiving. You can do anything with your power. If you choose to go off script, you can make me good and everything will be good again.”
“Our father has a plan. Following him cannot be wrong. Why should I do your bidding?” I say.
“We can use your gifts and mine to make the world like heaven. We can give people heaven tomorrow. How could that not be the right thing to do?”
“You must think me a fool,” I say. “Were I to follow you, I would face His wrath as you did. Why would I agree to such a thing?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do. Don’t you want to help make things right?” Now he turns to face me once more.
“I cannot.” I tell him. “I trust my Father to take care of me and I will obey him in return.” I feel helpless and I tell him, “I must do what is written.”
He stands up and walks toward me and I am paralyzed with fear. We are nose to nose. “You’re a filthy coward,” he says, and I close my eyes.
It’s the last day and I am exhausted. The sun is rising and someone is coming.
***********
The end is coming and it’s going to be over so fucking fast. There was a time when I made it a point to stay out of this stinking pit but now I really don’t want to go up there. I know he’s waiting for me and I can’t believe that that hypocritical, spineless asshole will be one to kill me. It’s time to go.
***********
He’s here. He is as bright and terrible as I remember. He’s fighting hard. When he meets my eyes, it is as if he doesn’t know me. I feel guilty; I want to apologize, but he’s too far away. I know what I must do and I raise my hand.
***********