Fic: A History of Heaven (Gabriel/Various Angels, PG-13 for this chapter) 34/59
For full notes and other chapters, please see the Masterpost.
Notes: Sammael = Lucifer
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 2,158
Chapter Summary: The battle is over, and now God’s judgment must be heard. What does this mean for Heaven’s brightest angel?
CHAPTER 34:
Judgment Day
There was no cheering as the gates of Heaven swung open. Ranks of angels lined the Axis Mundi, watching silently as Michael shepherded a grace-bound Lucifer down the path. Gabriel followed, flying stiffly but under his own power. He held Lucifer’s sword, passed to him by Michael after the battle. Michael’s eyes had been exhausted as he handed the blade over, but more alarming to Gabriel, the oldest Archangel didn’t seem to be acknowledging that he had nearly killed his little brother to get to Lucifer. Did Michael simply want to pretend it didn’t happen, or had he honestly not even seen Gabriel with how strongly he was focused on Lucifer?
There would be time to question Michael later. Right now, Lucifer needed to be brought before God for judgment. None of the Archangels were a high enough authority to sit in judgment of all of Lucifer’s crimes.
Cariel was not at Gabriel’s side. As soon as they had returned to Heaven, Gabriel had nudged his second away. He couldn’t be seen leaning on another angel, not with Raphael barely clinging to life and Lucifer surrendered. Heaven needed the Archangels to be tall and strong now. Cariel had joined the crowd in the back, keeping pace with the slow procession of the Archangels. Gabriel could feel his presence, even though he couldn’t see the Seraph through the multitude of his brothers.
Joshua was standing outside the doors of the Throne Room, looking small and solemn without his usual broom. He bowed as the Archangels climbed the stairs before turning to push the doors open. “He is waiting.”
Michael pushed Lucifer past Joshua without a word. Gabriel managed a weak smile for the Cherub. As soon as all three were inside, the doors were pulled shut behind them, sealing them away with an echoing boom.
God was in His throne already, a blazing pillar that Lucifer flinched from. Gabriel silently watched his brother’s reaction, not feeling any need to cringe away himself. God was not loving right now, but His wrath was not suffocating Gabriel either. If anything, God felt sad, a heavy depression weighing down the five angels in the room.
There were five angels in the room. Raphael was slumped in his throne, supported more by the seat than his own spirit. His power flickered thinly within him, and his eyes were closed, but he was present and alive. Gabriel could see his own grace woven through his twin, still doing most of the work of holding him together. Raphael would not heal quickly, but he would heal. Relief Gabriel hadn’t realized he was praying for smoothed through his spirit, easing some of his prickling unease.
Standing at the base of God’s throne, the silver-winged Metatron fidgeted nervously, a pen poised over a notebook. As Gabriel’s attention slid over him, Metatron sent a smile his way. Gabriel couldn’t find it in himself to return the gesture. How could anyone be happy in this atmosphere? He looked away from the younger angel, shifting his grip on Lucifer’s sword.
“Father.” Michael bowed low, his wings brushing against the ground. Gabriel bowed as well, not quite as deeply, still too stiff to easily move. Between them, Lucifer scoffed and refused to even duck his head in respect. “We have brought You Lucifer, to be judged for his crimes against Heaven, humanity, and You.”
God gestured, and a raised dais was before Him. Metatron jumped at the sudden creation of something that had always been there, but Gabriel had long ago become accustomed to his Father’s habit of creating things out of nothing and tricking your mind into thinking they’d never been absent. Gabriel strode forward and set Lucifer’s sword on the stone, offering his Father another stiff bow before claiming his own throne.
Michael brought Lucifer forward, pressing his brother to his knees before God. Lucifer gave an obvious resistance, the resistance of an angel who couldn’t truly fight but was going to put up a show anyway just to prove that he was not submitting of his own free will. Michael said nothing about this, and his impassive grace gave nothing away except his own weariness. He stood behind Lucifer, tired but alert.
Silence fell over the Throne Room. God watched Lucifer, who stared defiantly back, his vessel’s skin blistering even further in the direct glow of God’s grace. Michael watched Lucifer. Raphael’s eyes cracked open to glance at Gabriel before watching Michael and Lucifer together, and Gabriel did the same. Metatron looked between everyone, his pen held perfectly still despite his fidgeting.
Lucifer.
God’s voice rolled through the gathered angels, waves of disappointment breaking over their graces. Lucifer lifted his chin in defiance, his eyes glittering in their Father’s glow.
You have turned on everything we hold dear.
“Respectfully, I haven’t.” Lucifer folded his arms over his chest. “I still love the world, love my brothers, love You. I have turned on the misguided insistence that we submit to humanity, that we turn aside our praise of You for praise of them, that we are nothing more than slaves to be ordered about. I have not killed a single angel in this war between our realms. Even with Raphael, I purposely checked my blow, so the wound would not be fatal with Gabriel present.”
“You attempted to kill me,” Michael murmured behind Lucifer. The younger Archangel stiffened for a moment before letting his wings fall limp again. Only now did he give a slight bow of his head in acknowledgement, his grace infused with sadness.
“Respectfully again, you were attempting to kill me first,” Lucifer replied, just as softly. “With our battle, Michael, I had to fight for your death in self-defense. You would not have permitted anything less.”
The Nephilim?
“I did not ask my brothers to lie with humans, nor did I ask them to create hybrid children. They did so of their own volition. Once the hybrids existed, I thought it better to take them in and give them guidance than to leave them to fend for themselves, alone and confused, as You did us.”
“The Nephilim killed angels,” Gabriel pointed out, closing his eyes and picturing Barachiel stretched out against the stone pyramid, wingless and near death. He was awake and moving around on his own now, but his back was still devoid of wings, and the angel’s once irrepressible joy had been replaced with a grey muteness.
“I ordered them only to defend our home,” Lucifer answered, turning his cool eyes toward Gabriel. “How they did so was their own choice. I do recall that you killed more of them single-handedly than all of the Nephilim combined did of the Host.”
The angels you lured to your side?
“The only brothers I asked to follow me are here with us now.” Lucifer extended his hands toward Michael and Gabriel. “Both refused. All the others chose to follow me without any encouragement on my part. Again, the only orders I gave were to defend our home and guide the Nephilim.”
“The angels,” Raphael whispered, his voice cracked and weak, “were more deadly than the Nephilim.”
“Does this honestly surprise you?” Lucifer asked. “Every last angel, even that tiny scribe standing there, is trained as a warrior. Even the youngest, weakest of our brothers has wielded a sword for billions of years.” Lucifer closed his eyes and ducked his head, clasping his hands over his vessel’s charred heart. “The fratricide devastates me, of course it does, but Raphael…” Lucifer opened his eyes now, canting his head toward the younger Archangel. “Like Gabriel with the Nephilim, more angels have died on your sword than anyone else’s.”
“Don’t!” Gabriel pushed off his throne, balling his hands into fists as he shouted at Lucifer. “Don’t make this his fault! Don’t make it our fault! You instigated this bloody war! Just because you did not directly drive a sword into another’s core doesn’t make it any less your doing!”
God’s presence swelled over Gabriel, pressing him silently back into his throne. Gabriel huddled against the black stone, drawing his wings in around him. He hated this. He wanted it over. He wanted Heaven to go back the way it was. He wanted to be wrapped in his brothers’ wings again, curled together in the crown of Michael’s tower, or on the forest floor. That small paradise was gone now, forever destroyed.
Lives have been wasted on all sides. Tell me, Lucifer, about the human souls you have claimed for yourself.
Lucifer’s mouth twisted into a sneer that was very nearly a pout, and he gave an absolutely human-like shrug. “I’ve given the most corrupt souls a place in which to congregate, so they stop wandering the Earth like wretched vagabonds. Heaven certainly doesn’t accept them. It’s not like I’m stealing souls away from You. If anything, I’m protecting humanity.” Lucifer’s sneer ratcheted up several notches at the word ‘protecting,’ the curl of his lip clearly stating how he felt about that.
And the demons?
Surprise flickered through Lucifer’s entire grace for just a fraction of a second, so quickly shut down that Gabriel wondered if it had actually been real. What had God meant, demons? What was a demon?
“I haven’t the faintest idea what You’re talking about,” Lucifer answered primly, lifting his chin again, his grace blank but his eyes furious.
You forget with whom you are speaking.
“I haven’t the faintest idea what You’re talking about,” Lucifer repeated, folding his arms across his chest.
I AM. God’s voice rattled the foundations of the Throne Room. Metatron stumbled, his pen streaking ink across his page. Raphael grimaced and slumped further in his chair, while Gabriel folded his wings in tighter and hung on. Michael swayed but did not move his feet, and Lucifer flinched, shutting his eyes for several minutes. I know all that happens in My universe. While you have been clever to cut off your realm, you are kneeling before Me now. There isn’t an inch of your mind I do not know. There isn’t a single secret I have not seen.
Lucifer opened his eyes slowly, lifting his face to glare at the Lord. “Then You know my purpose with them. I am demonstrating the weakness of humanity, their inferiority. The demons are proof that Your ‘greatest creations’ are beneath us!”
God allowed Lucifer’s last statement to ring through the Throne Room, accompanied only by the scratching of Metatron’s pen as he transcribed the proceedings. Slowly, the room filled with sadness, with despair, and with a cold, calm anger.
I am decided.
Five angels looked to God for His verdict.
Take up the sword, Michael.
Five angels looked to the sword God gestured at, Lucifer’s sword, resting on the dais. Michael stepped around Lucifer and approached the dais. He gave a little bow at the waist to their Father and reached out to curl his fingers around the hilt.
“You can’t.” Lucifer smirked at Michael as the oldest Archangel turned back to him. “You couldn’t kill me in the Borderlands. You won’t kill me here.”
“I am a good son,” Michael answered, his deep voice as cold as the stone, as unyielding as the mountains.
Centuries ago, Sammael had stood in Gabriel’s office and asked Michael if Michael would ever kill him if ordered. Gabriel remembered their conversation clearly. Sammael had been horrified, and Michael…
Michael had never actually answered.
Remove his wings.
Michael stepped forward mechanically. Lucifer’s smirk was fading, turning into an enraged snarl. “Michael! Think for yourself for once! Do you really want to do this?”
Michael curled his free hand around Lucifer’s remaining primary wing, stretching it away from his brother’s body. He touched the blade of the sword to the joint and leaned in close to Lucifer’s ear. Gabriel felt his words more than he heard them.
“I am a good son.“
The silver blade swung through the air and Lucifer screamed, his back arching away from the oldest Archangel. Michael’s face was impassive as he dropped the severed wing, ignoring how it scorched feather marks into the floor in favor of grabbing a second.
Gabriel. God’s voice was enough to break through Lucifer’s pain, filling the Messenger’s mind. You are still able to pass through the wards into his realm. Go there now. Cast them down. I will have that underworld broken open for the Host of Heaven to cleanse it.
“Yes, Father,” Gabriel whispered, choking the words out past a knot in his throat. Lucifer was on his hands and knees now, the floor around him blackened from thousands of destroyed feathers, and still Michael sliced away his brother’s wings. Anything was better than bearing witness to this destruction.
God’s grace slid through Gabriel, filling him with the Holy Spirit, recharging his own tired energy and restoring his vessel completely. Gabriel flicked out his wings, no longer frozen and stiff, and darted for the doors.
Next...
Notes: Sammael = Lucifer
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Chapter word count: 2,158
Chapter Summary: The battle is over, and now God’s judgment must be heard. What does this mean for Heaven’s brightest angel?
CHAPTER 34:
Judgment Day
There was no cheering as the gates of Heaven swung open. Ranks of angels lined the Axis Mundi, watching silently as Michael shepherded a grace-bound Lucifer down the path. Gabriel followed, flying stiffly but under his own power. He held Lucifer’s sword, passed to him by Michael after the battle. Michael’s eyes had been exhausted as he handed the blade over, but more alarming to Gabriel, the oldest Archangel didn’t seem to be acknowledging that he had nearly killed his little brother to get to Lucifer. Did Michael simply want to pretend it didn’t happen, or had he honestly not even seen Gabriel with how strongly he was focused on Lucifer?
There would be time to question Michael later. Right now, Lucifer needed to be brought before God for judgment. None of the Archangels were a high enough authority to sit in judgment of all of Lucifer’s crimes.
Cariel was not at Gabriel’s side. As soon as they had returned to Heaven, Gabriel had nudged his second away. He couldn’t be seen leaning on another angel, not with Raphael barely clinging to life and Lucifer surrendered. Heaven needed the Archangels to be tall and strong now. Cariel had joined the crowd in the back, keeping pace with the slow procession of the Archangels. Gabriel could feel his presence, even though he couldn’t see the Seraph through the multitude of his brothers.
Joshua was standing outside the doors of the Throne Room, looking small and solemn without his usual broom. He bowed as the Archangels climbed the stairs before turning to push the doors open. “He is waiting.”
Michael pushed Lucifer past Joshua without a word. Gabriel managed a weak smile for the Cherub. As soon as all three were inside, the doors were pulled shut behind them, sealing them away with an echoing boom.
God was in His throne already, a blazing pillar that Lucifer flinched from. Gabriel silently watched his brother’s reaction, not feeling any need to cringe away himself. God was not loving right now, but His wrath was not suffocating Gabriel either. If anything, God felt sad, a heavy depression weighing down the five angels in the room.
There were five angels in the room. Raphael was slumped in his throne, supported more by the seat than his own spirit. His power flickered thinly within him, and his eyes were closed, but he was present and alive. Gabriel could see his own grace woven through his twin, still doing most of the work of holding him together. Raphael would not heal quickly, but he would heal. Relief Gabriel hadn’t realized he was praying for smoothed through his spirit, easing some of his prickling unease.
Standing at the base of God’s throne, the silver-winged Metatron fidgeted nervously, a pen poised over a notebook. As Gabriel’s attention slid over him, Metatron sent a smile his way. Gabriel couldn’t find it in himself to return the gesture. How could anyone be happy in this atmosphere? He looked away from the younger angel, shifting his grip on Lucifer’s sword.
“Father.” Michael bowed low, his wings brushing against the ground. Gabriel bowed as well, not quite as deeply, still too stiff to easily move. Between them, Lucifer scoffed and refused to even duck his head in respect. “We have brought You Lucifer, to be judged for his crimes against Heaven, humanity, and You.”
God gestured, and a raised dais was before Him. Metatron jumped at the sudden creation of something that had always been there, but Gabriel had long ago become accustomed to his Father’s habit of creating things out of nothing and tricking your mind into thinking they’d never been absent. Gabriel strode forward and set Lucifer’s sword on the stone, offering his Father another stiff bow before claiming his own throne.
Michael brought Lucifer forward, pressing his brother to his knees before God. Lucifer gave an obvious resistance, the resistance of an angel who couldn’t truly fight but was going to put up a show anyway just to prove that he was not submitting of his own free will. Michael said nothing about this, and his impassive grace gave nothing away except his own weariness. He stood behind Lucifer, tired but alert.
Silence fell over the Throne Room. God watched Lucifer, who stared defiantly back, his vessel’s skin blistering even further in the direct glow of God’s grace. Michael watched Lucifer. Raphael’s eyes cracked open to glance at Gabriel before watching Michael and Lucifer together, and Gabriel did the same. Metatron looked between everyone, his pen held perfectly still despite his fidgeting.
Lucifer.
God’s voice rolled through the gathered angels, waves of disappointment breaking over their graces. Lucifer lifted his chin in defiance, his eyes glittering in their Father’s glow.
You have turned on everything we hold dear.
“Respectfully, I haven’t.” Lucifer folded his arms over his chest. “I still love the world, love my brothers, love You. I have turned on the misguided insistence that we submit to humanity, that we turn aside our praise of You for praise of them, that we are nothing more than slaves to be ordered about. I have not killed a single angel in this war between our realms. Even with Raphael, I purposely checked my blow, so the wound would not be fatal with Gabriel present.”
“You attempted to kill me,” Michael murmured behind Lucifer. The younger Archangel stiffened for a moment before letting his wings fall limp again. Only now did he give a slight bow of his head in acknowledgement, his grace infused with sadness.
“Respectfully again, you were attempting to kill me first,” Lucifer replied, just as softly. “With our battle, Michael, I had to fight for your death in self-defense. You would not have permitted anything less.”
The Nephilim?
“I did not ask my brothers to lie with humans, nor did I ask them to create hybrid children. They did so of their own volition. Once the hybrids existed, I thought it better to take them in and give them guidance than to leave them to fend for themselves, alone and confused, as You did us.”
“The Nephilim killed angels,” Gabriel pointed out, closing his eyes and picturing Barachiel stretched out against the stone pyramid, wingless and near death. He was awake and moving around on his own now, but his back was still devoid of wings, and the angel’s once irrepressible joy had been replaced with a grey muteness.
“I ordered them only to defend our home,” Lucifer answered, turning his cool eyes toward Gabriel. “How they did so was their own choice. I do recall that you killed more of them single-handedly than all of the Nephilim combined did of the Host.”
The angels you lured to your side?
“The only brothers I asked to follow me are here with us now.” Lucifer extended his hands toward Michael and Gabriel. “Both refused. All the others chose to follow me without any encouragement on my part. Again, the only orders I gave were to defend our home and guide the Nephilim.”
“The angels,” Raphael whispered, his voice cracked and weak, “were more deadly than the Nephilim.”
“Does this honestly surprise you?” Lucifer asked. “Every last angel, even that tiny scribe standing there, is trained as a warrior. Even the youngest, weakest of our brothers has wielded a sword for billions of years.” Lucifer closed his eyes and ducked his head, clasping his hands over his vessel’s charred heart. “The fratricide devastates me, of course it does, but Raphael…” Lucifer opened his eyes now, canting his head toward the younger Archangel. “Like Gabriel with the Nephilim, more angels have died on your sword than anyone else’s.”
“Don’t!” Gabriel pushed off his throne, balling his hands into fists as he shouted at Lucifer. “Don’t make this his fault! Don’t make it our fault! You instigated this bloody war! Just because you did not directly drive a sword into another’s core doesn’t make it any less your doing!”
God’s presence swelled over Gabriel, pressing him silently back into his throne. Gabriel huddled against the black stone, drawing his wings in around him. He hated this. He wanted it over. He wanted Heaven to go back the way it was. He wanted to be wrapped in his brothers’ wings again, curled together in the crown of Michael’s tower, or on the forest floor. That small paradise was gone now, forever destroyed.
Lives have been wasted on all sides. Tell me, Lucifer, about the human souls you have claimed for yourself.
Lucifer’s mouth twisted into a sneer that was very nearly a pout, and he gave an absolutely human-like shrug. “I’ve given the most corrupt souls a place in which to congregate, so they stop wandering the Earth like wretched vagabonds. Heaven certainly doesn’t accept them. It’s not like I’m stealing souls away from You. If anything, I’m protecting humanity.” Lucifer’s sneer ratcheted up several notches at the word ‘protecting,’ the curl of his lip clearly stating how he felt about that.
And the demons?
Surprise flickered through Lucifer’s entire grace for just a fraction of a second, so quickly shut down that Gabriel wondered if it had actually been real. What had God meant, demons? What was a demon?
“I haven’t the faintest idea what You’re talking about,” Lucifer answered primly, lifting his chin again, his grace blank but his eyes furious.
You forget with whom you are speaking.
“I haven’t the faintest idea what You’re talking about,” Lucifer repeated, folding his arms across his chest.
I AM. God’s voice rattled the foundations of the Throne Room. Metatron stumbled, his pen streaking ink across his page. Raphael grimaced and slumped further in his chair, while Gabriel folded his wings in tighter and hung on. Michael swayed but did not move his feet, and Lucifer flinched, shutting his eyes for several minutes. I know all that happens in My universe. While you have been clever to cut off your realm, you are kneeling before Me now. There isn’t an inch of your mind I do not know. There isn’t a single secret I have not seen.
Lucifer opened his eyes slowly, lifting his face to glare at the Lord. “Then You know my purpose with them. I am demonstrating the weakness of humanity, their inferiority. The demons are proof that Your ‘greatest creations’ are beneath us!”
God allowed Lucifer’s last statement to ring through the Throne Room, accompanied only by the scratching of Metatron’s pen as he transcribed the proceedings. Slowly, the room filled with sadness, with despair, and with a cold, calm anger.
I am decided.
Five angels looked to God for His verdict.
Take up the sword, Michael.
Five angels looked to the sword God gestured at, Lucifer’s sword, resting on the dais. Michael stepped around Lucifer and approached the dais. He gave a little bow at the waist to their Father and reached out to curl his fingers around the hilt.
“You can’t.” Lucifer smirked at Michael as the oldest Archangel turned back to him. “You couldn’t kill me in the Borderlands. You won’t kill me here.”
“I am a good son,” Michael answered, his deep voice as cold as the stone, as unyielding as the mountains.
Centuries ago, Sammael had stood in Gabriel’s office and asked Michael if Michael would ever kill him if ordered. Gabriel remembered their conversation clearly. Sammael had been horrified, and Michael…
Michael had never actually answered.
Remove his wings.
Michael stepped forward mechanically. Lucifer’s smirk was fading, turning into an enraged snarl. “Michael! Think for yourself for once! Do you really want to do this?”
Michael curled his free hand around Lucifer’s remaining primary wing, stretching it away from his brother’s body. He touched the blade of the sword to the joint and leaned in close to Lucifer’s ear. Gabriel felt his words more than he heard them.
“I am a good son.“
The silver blade swung through the air and Lucifer screamed, his back arching away from the oldest Archangel. Michael’s face was impassive as he dropped the severed wing, ignoring how it scorched feather marks into the floor in favor of grabbing a second.
Gabriel. God’s voice was enough to break through Lucifer’s pain, filling the Messenger’s mind. You are still able to pass through the wards into his realm. Go there now. Cast them down. I will have that underworld broken open for the Host of Heaven to cleanse it.
“Yes, Father,” Gabriel whispered, choking the words out past a knot in his throat. Lucifer was on his hands and knees now, the floor around him blackened from thousands of destroyed feathers, and still Michael sliced away his brother’s wings. Anything was better than bearing witness to this destruction.
God’s grace slid through Gabriel, filling him with the Holy Spirit, recharging his own tired energy and restoring his vessel completely. Gabriel flicked out his wings, no longer frozen and stiff, and darted for the doors.
Next...