As usual, Ellie sensed the archangel's approach before she saw her. She almost turned aside, not particularly wanting to discuss Sugarplum or Biblical interpretation or Aziraphale or any of the other things an angel was likely to want to talk about if she happened to be in a chatty mood.
But she was tired. Since learning of her daughter's survival, and the attack on Mictain, she'd found it impossible to stay hidden away in the safety of the Manor. Which wasn't to say she hadn't tried. Self-preservation was a powerful instinct, and not easily overriden even by the maternal variety. But after Aziraphale's departure had robbed her of the closest friend she had in this place, the need to learn more had eventually won out.
She'd made a number of trips out into the world since, seeking news from the contacts she had made on Earth and on occasion from the mortal news media, who seldom had any inkling what they were actually reporting when they talked of mysterious terrorist attacks and victims who disappeared before they could be questioned.
As she had feared, though, finding the girl had proved much more difficult than finding evidence of her passing. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to her movements, no means of tracing her once her strange powers had taken her elsewhere. Ellie had had close calls with angry, wounded angels and demons alike, who would not have hesitated to pin the blame for their woes on a lone succubus with a strangely muted aura if they had seen her. To say nothing of what might happen if any of those demons happened to recognize her.
She was weary and discouraged and just wanted to crawl into her bed and forget about it all for a while. And reversing course to avoid Uriel now would mean taking a longer route to her room, past the rooms of some other residents she would just as soon avoid at the moment. Better to just walk past without acknowledging the Severer's presence at all.
When the archangel came into view, however, with a tiny bundle cradled in her arms, Ellie stopped dead in her tracks, the part of her mind that wasn't frozen with surprise rapidly calculating the months since Uriel had started to show. Of course, her time would have come while I was gone...
She'd never seen her own baby. Tali hadn't lived to see her born. Unwilling fascination mingled with an unexpected stab of pure, poisonous envy. It wasn't fair.
"Uriel," she said, rather stupidly, staring at the bundle. "You, uh. It came."
no subject
But she was tired. Since learning of her daughter's survival, and the attack on Mictain, she'd found it impossible to stay hidden away in the safety of the Manor. Which wasn't to say she hadn't tried. Self-preservation was a powerful instinct, and not easily overriden even by the maternal variety. But after Aziraphale's departure had robbed her of the closest friend she had in this place, the need to learn more had eventually won out.
She'd made a number of trips out into the world since, seeking news from the contacts she had made on Earth and on occasion from the mortal news media, who seldom had any inkling what they were actually reporting when they talked of mysterious terrorist attacks and victims who disappeared before they could be questioned.
As she had feared, though, finding the girl had proved much more difficult than finding evidence of her passing. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to her movements, no means of tracing her once her strange powers had taken her elsewhere. Ellie had had close calls with angry, wounded angels and demons alike, who would not have hesitated to pin the blame for their woes on a lone succubus with a strangely muted aura if they had seen her. To say nothing of what might happen if any of those demons happened to recognize her.
She was weary and discouraged and just wanted to crawl into her bed and forget about it all for a while. And reversing course to avoid Uriel now would mean taking a longer route to her room, past the rooms of some other residents she would just as soon avoid at the moment. Better to just walk past without acknowledging the Severer's presence at all.
When the archangel came into view, however, with a tiny bundle cradled in her arms, Ellie stopped dead in her tracks, the part of her mind that wasn't frozen with surprise rapidly calculating the months since Uriel had started to show. Of course, her time would have come while I was gone...
She'd never seen her own baby. Tali hadn't lived to see her born. Unwilling fascination mingled with an unexpected stab of pure, poisonous envy. It wasn't fair.
"Uriel," she said, rather stupidly, staring at the bundle. "You, uh. It came."