Chapter Text
[25] And the Lord spake unto the Angel that guarded the eastern gate, saying 'Where is the flaming sword that was given unto thee?'
[26] And the Angel said, 'I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down somewhere, forget my own head next.'
[27] And the Lord did not ask him again.
*
It remembered the kindly angel at the Beginning. It remembered his hands being warm, and the way he respected it as a tool for only the greatest need, when all other options have failed.
All the other flaming swords spoke of being treasured, or being glorified, of the eagerness with which they were hefted and swung with little enough forethought. The other flaming swords had cried out in the tight fists of the sharp angels who wielded them. They struggled while trapped in the greedy grasps of the blood-thirsty, and were not heard for those who took them had no interest in learning how to listen.
The flaming sword of Aziraphale is the only one who is not entirely wanted, and so right from the Beginning, it is special.
The flaming sword of the Principality Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate was not held with righteous blood-lust, nor was it viewed with the eagerness of the inexperienced. No, this flaming sword was held in the tentative hope of doing the right thing, and viewed with the respect of one who has taken the lives of others before and wishes very much never to need to do so again.
The flaming sword of Aziraphale can certainly respect such an attitude, and is not at all offended by its angel’s caution.
Flaming swords were made for angelic wars, but they need not take pride in this fact.
Not to mention, the flaming sword of the Eastern Gate had a Duty to uphold; it must help its angel protect the Great Garden, and its occupants. It was very proud to assist in such an important mission.
Aziraphale might have missed the Serpent creature hanging around, but the sword certainly hadn’t. But the Serpent doesn’t taste like Evil or Danger to the sword. It tastes like… it tastes like mischief and ambivalence, and it watches the sword’s angel with frank curiosity, like it knows not what to make of the quiet Principality with his endless fascination for anything that wanders into his orbit. The sword thinks it could empathise with the Serpent a little on that one.
Perhaps the Serpent will keep the sword’s angel company? Aziraphale is very happy with his flowers and his birds and whatnot, but the sword worries sometimes that its angel will become very lonely indeed if he has no one to talk to properly. The angels belonging to the other flaming swords will not do at all – they are far too eager act, and not at all good at listening. The Serpent seems to do nothing but listen, and watch quietly, and even if it does all end in mischief and tears, the sword still broadly approves of him.
There is, as the sword expected, a certain amount of mischief, and a great deal of shouting, and the flaming sword is suddenly very aware of its angel being so very, terribly unhappy all of a sudden. The sword doesn’t like this at all, but it certainly likes it a whole lot less when it is hurriedly thrust into the hands of Another Being [1] before it is carried away from the Garden and its angel. The flaming sword wants to call out to its angel, to beg to be taken back and kept.
[1] Though not another angel at least; that would have been an insult too great to be borne, and the sword swears immediately that it shall never suffer the hands of another angel upon it, no matter what comes.
But then the sword tastes the fear in the hands of the one who now wields it. These people are being sent into the unknown, and they are alone. The angel cannot come with them, it seems, and so the flaming sword was sent instead, to keep them safe while the angel cannot.
It feels like exile, and indeed it is. But it is also Duty, and that is not a thing the sword will be ashamed of, for its angel was not ashamed to wield it, and he was not ashamed to send it away. Aziraphale had known, perhaps without even knowing that he knew it, that this was the right thing to do.
The flaming sword of Aziraphale will not fail its angel. It will keep faith alongside him, no matter how far or how long they are parted. They will be reunited one day, after all.
*
The first time the flaming sword tastes blood, it is because the starving must be fed. Indeed, the second time it is wielded, it is used to cook the meat which it has just killed, and the third time is the keep a woman who carries new life within her warm through the night. The flaming sword takes heart from this; it is still a tool of protection, a symbol of safety, in a strange and uncertain world.
If the flaming sword of… of who? Of no one? No, it is still the flaming sword of Aziraphale, no matter that it has been given to others who had greater need of it. If the flaming sword of Aziraphale could see the future, perhaps it would have savoured this moment less. Perhaps more. But it is a sword, and so it can only know what is and has been. And so far it has not yet learned to dread the hands who hold it, as its brethren once did.
The principality Aziraphale had only ever wanted to help, and so too had his sword.
For there comes the day when the flaming sword of Aziraphale is taken up in a grasp painfully tightened by rage, when it is brought down into the flesh and bone of another, spilled hot blood not to feed or protect the needy but in vengeful murder of the innocent. The sword screams its horror out into the sky, to the heavens, begging its angel to come and prevent this.
And from Heaven, there comes an answering scream of outraged pain. The angel Aziraphale has heard it and cannot come, but they both mourn together for all the innocence lost this day, and they have neither of them felt so helpless.
*
It may have been banished, but the flaming sword of Aziraphale is never forgotten.
For one thing, half of Heaven keeps asking the angel about its location.
Whenever it is referred to, the flaming sword perks its (metaphorical) ears up – perhaps this is the time when the angel will come and find it, will take it up once more and they will accomplish great things together? When they will be reunited?
It never is, but the flaming sword of Aziraphale has one thing in common with its angel: Hope. They will neither of them give up on the things that they place their trust in, and they never will.
It has been so long, and the sword has seen terrible thing - has done terrible things too, or been made to do so. It no longer calls out for its angel these days; it has realised that so long as it stays quiet then its angel does not know what his sword has done, and they have both of them enough pain by now that the sword will not add to it. Its silence protects its angel, and the sword clings to this knowledge. It is still a thing of protection this way, even if only a little.
And one day, the sword knows, one day they will see each other again.