Accordant

Chapter Twelve

Another year had gone by just as the others. And now, having been formally banned from Hell, Ariel found himself traveling even more often, restless, dissatisfied. It was not closure he sought; that he had gotten upon hearing of Gabriel's punishment. He simply had nothing to do, he supposed.

Of women he had plenty, and all the food he could wish for; yet his appetite allowed for neither. All he sought were unfamiliar horizons, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Those horizons became too commonplace after a while, and soon they began to blend together; then he had traveled to other planes, as guests of the Olympians and the Seelie Court and every other benevolent dimension he could think to visit; but he never stayed long, wary of exhausting his welcome, and also because after a while, he began to grow too complacent again.

His most recent haunt was Vanaheimr. The Vanir had not complained about his presence, as he kept to himself often and was friendly enough in his interactions with them. They often offered him bits of wisdom, which he found a bit unnerving, since what they knew of him was confined to old stories of the Rogue, the angel that had fallen in the first War in Heaven but escaped to wander Creation. But they were kind and he was kind, so they let him stay and he let them talk at him as they wished. He never thought there might be a reason he was there. There had been no particular pattern to his travels, just convenience and general preference.

But there was a reason for everything. He had simply forgotten that.

There were no coincidences, after all.

The merchant in front of him had some sort of fruit for sale. Ariel had taken to eating a small fruit now and then to help him think. Nothing the Fae or Vanir or others had said had made any sense at all, aside from all pointing to the fact that Ariel was missing something... or that something was missing in general. What, he had no idea. A home, perhaps? Perhaps he would make one somewhere, most likely in the mortal realm, where he could conceal himself the best and not worry about encroaching on anyone's kindness. A companion, maybe, but he had always been a loner. Perhaps the years were finally catching up to him, though. Angels and fallen never aged, but their characters did change. It was possible that all his traveling might just be an avoidance of a real wish to settle down.

He thanked the merchant, tossed the fruit into the air, and turned around. He was not alone.

Even in his current state, no one would ever mistake Gabriel for someone else. His eyes were exactly the same, but to Ariel, who had not seen him since their battle in New Orleans three years earlier, it was like having seen a room bathed in light, and then seeing it again in darkness. The light was gone from Gabriel's grey eyes, and his lips were drawn into a thin line, not like the one that appeared on his face when he was displeased, but one that would have marked unhappiness on any other being. Here, on Gabriel's face, it ran deeper than that. Much deeper.

Oddly enough, to Ariel at least, it was compassion that welled up in him first, not anger or condescension. Gabriel had hurt them all, had wanted to destroy a city needlessly, had essentially become consumed by his own power and let it carry him to his own ruin. Ariel frowned. He should be angry still. Without a word, he pushed past Gabriel, intentionally knocking into his shoulder a bit in the process. That did not seem to deter Gabriel, who simply followed him for a few yards until Ariel stopped and turned around. "What do you want, Gabriel?"

"Your forgiveness."

"And?"

"Your help."

Ariel snorted and continued on his way. This time, Gabriel did not follow him. After a while, Ariel turned around. There was a fair distance between them, but, being angels, they could still hear each other. "How was Hell?"

"Don't taunt me, Ariel."

"Why not? Gonna fight me again? You're half of yourself, Gabriel. You're not even there. You don't have the guts."

Gabriel shook his head. His voice was even quieter than it usually was. "I will not fight you here."

"Fine." Ariel shrugged. "So let's go to one of the barren planes and duke it out. Eden's a good bet. Unless you think you need the mortal winter to back you up."

"Ariel," Gabriel said, his voice still quiet, "you are drawing attention."

"Good." Ariel glared at Gabriel--and then realized that the fallen archangel was right. The marketplace had come to something of a standstill as its occupants watched the two strangers closely. He sighed and shook his head.

"Fine. What is it you want?" Ariel folded his arms.

"That," Gabriel said, "I would have to tell you in confidence. You will have to trust me, at least for a while."

"Sorry," Ariel said. "You haven't earned that."

Gabriel sighed and bowed his head. "You have always been my best researcher. All I ask is that you look into a matter for me. You may contact Jael for further details."

"Fine," Ariel said again, "on one condition: You never seek me out, spy on me, or speak to me again."

For a moment, the great archangel looked defeated. His downcast eyes held a quality of sadness and frustration, and his full bearing spoke of nothing but exhaustion and disappointment. "As you wish."

In the next second, he was gone.

Ariel sighed and tossed the fruit again. The marketplace resumed its activity, mostly. "That was ill-advised," a woman standing just behind him said. Dressed in a colorful blouse and jeans, which was not exactly the standard wardrobe of the Vanir, she was eating a small bowl of what appeared to be rocky road ice cream. Rocky road ice cream was not a treat found anywhere in Vanaheimr.

He glared down at her. "And you know this how?"

"You are among the Vanir, who see the past and the future just as well as they see the present." The woman smiled. "That's why I like them. Playing paper-scissors-rock here is always entertaining."

Ariel blinked. "What?"

"We've never met, Rogue. Apparently Dreamland isn't good enough to be included in your travel plans." She finished the ice cream and shook out the bowl. The little bowl became a bottle of ginger beer.

Ariel blanched. "Q-Queen Tw--"

Queen Twelve raised a finger to her lips. Today she wore her dark hair long, stopping just beyond her shoulder blades. "Careful, now. They don't know who I am. So, back to the subject at hand. Is there a reason for your continued cruelty toward the Messenger? Aside from your personal hurt feelings, that is."

"I don't have hurt feelings," Ariel scoffed. "He's just a pain in the ass."

"Those who suffer are never a pain in the ass, Ariel. Tread carefully. Your actions are a reflection of yourself."

"Well, that's fine," Ariel said, shrugging. "I know I'm a pain in the ass."

"You aren't, but that is dodging the point." Twelve tilted her head. "I'm undecided about you, Rogue. You are caustic toward the people who care about you, but then you deflect with self-deprecation. Which is it, Ariel? The fault of others or the fault of yourself?"

"You're reading far too much into this," Ariel drawled. "I have a right to deal with Gabriel however I wish. He would have fucked me over."

"Then you will only hurt him more." Queen Twelve gave Ariel a pointed look. "Do you need another reason? I see what is coming, Ariel, the threads of what can be, and one which, given the paths taken, will be. And I would not advise being in the path of the Archangel Gabriel at the time of his resurgence."

Ariel started to answer, but Queen Twelve vanished without any fanfare. She simply did not occupy that place in space anymore. "Demi-goddesses," he growled, then turned back toward the market.