(no subject)

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Date: May, 2000
Setting: Manor Grounds
Status: Public
Summary: A General Announcement and a meeting.



There had been a sign Aziraphale had sellotaped to the edge of his desk a few days ago, since his conversation with Hermes. It was simple, and drew a few questions, but Aziraphale rather liked it. It read:


Mr. Fell's Storytime. Come one, come all!
Saturday after tea.


It made him feel like one of the readers from that show, Jackanory. Except Aziraphale was rather grateful he didn't resemble Prince Charles or the like.

It was now three o'clock and he was sitting in the library, a large, weathered book open in his lap. He had his glasses on, sliding as they were, and a glass of water sat on a coaster within arm's reach. There were pillows strewed about in the small space in front of him, and the bookshelves stretched back. Aziraphale stroked his chin, deep in thought, as he mouthed the words of the next passage.

"Never was the dawn so beautiful," he said to himself, tapping the page. He was so wrapped up in the text and the elaborate illustrations he hadn't noticed the newcomer.

Comments

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Uriel had not come to the library for the reading session. In fact, she hadn't even seen the sign, as she hadn't been to the lobby at all during the last few days. She hadn't exactly been seeking out other people, because that would lead to them noticing her newly female appearance, which would lead to questions. And questions might lead to her not being able to come up with acceptable answers. She was imaginative, yes, but she simply could not lie.

No, she had simply gone to check if the library had any books on pregnancy -- reading things from books was, after all, her favourite way of learning new information. She hadn't counted on the library being already occupied when she got there.

"Oh, Aziraphale," she said softly as she noticed the other angel. "Good afternoon. I'm not disturbing you or anything, am I? I can leave if you'd rather be alone." She doubted she could take a single book from the shelf without Aziraphale noticing just what she was interested in, and that would lead to even more awkward questions than her being suddenly female and smaller than even Raphael.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"No, of course not! Don't be silly, Uriel," he said, looking up. "I was only just having a readthrough of what I'm going to read this afternoon." Aziraphale caught the dark-haired angel's blank look, and explained hastily. "I'm having a reading session soon, I'll just be reading aloud. It's sort of an everyone-welcome thing..." He trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Don't pay me any mind if you need the library. I'll be sitting here and reading. It was raining outside. Good afternoon," he bid Uriel finally, taking advantage of the silence to close his foolish mouth.

He was flustered that Uriel had noticed him first, caught him reading out loud. It was simply unexpected - the angel was always so absorbed in his books that even when he knew an audience was arriving (small as it would be, surely) he jumped about a foot. Crowley had plenty of experience making him jump like that, sneaking up on too-quiet feet when he knew very well that Aziraphale was too enthralled in his latest addition. Aziraphale thought, irritably, that it must seem a bit like a sport to him. Angel-jumping, or... well, making an angel jump, not jumping an angel.*


*Although nowadays this was quite likely as well.

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

"Sounds like a brilliant idea. Literature, any literature, needs more attention," said Uriel with the fond air of somebody talking about their own field of work, like, 'This is what I work on and everybody should appreciate it more'. (Sure, she had several fields of work, many of which she didn't particularly enjoy, but literature was a part of the Arts, the one responsibility of hers she was most fond of.)

The thought of simply giving up on her research and sitting down to wait for the beginning of the reading session was quite temptating. However, the less people saw her new appearance, the better. Therefore she just scanned the shelves for books that might be of some interest to her.

The books weren't in any particular order, it appeared. Sure, the satanic texts were mostly apart from the medical ones, but there were a few books on pregnancy right next to one she had studied earlier for information about mental disorders. With a silent miracle to turn the covers into something not-quite-so-suspicious, she picked the pregnancy books from the shelf, adding the already familiar mental health book on top for show.

"I think I'll just go and study these in my own room," she said. "I wouldn't want to be any distraction to you. Do not worry, though; I'll be sure to return them with all due haste," she then added with a smile.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale smiled. "Well, it's not my library to be strict about. I do hope you found what you're looking for..."

The angel vaguely wondered why Uriel would need a book on Occult Sexual Practises, Vol. III, but dismissed it. Privacy in reading material was to be treasured.

[bipolar-uriel.livejournal.com]

Uriel smiled. "Oh, I do believe I did," she said, not thinking there was anything wrong with her choices of fake names for the books. Anything that did not hint towards pregnancy was not-quite-so-suspicious in her opinion.

Quite happy that her first meeting-other-angels-as-female incident had gone by without any trouble, she left the library with the books.

(sorry about npc, but none of my other characters could come)

[no-npc-here.livejournal.com]

Mr. Sniffles, with the Mrs. and all the rest of the baby Sniffles (holding hands, no one was getting misplaced this time) headed towards the library. Mr. S. had been promising them all an adventure and when he had seen the notice in the front hall, he had seen the perfect opportunity.

Settling themselves on the bookshelf with the globe, he settled the kids and made sure everyone had a juice-pack before the angel started to read.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley had scowled when he saw the notice and tried to ignore the stab of jealousy. He liked it when Aziraphale read to him and didn't want to share the experience, but when it was clear that he had no choice in the matter, he decided to attend. Not wanting anyone to know that he was there listening to his partner's softly carrying voice, he lurked expertly in the stacks and kept an eye on who appeared.

[diaktoros.livejournal.com]

Hermes had evidentally been out doing some shopping*, because he bounded in next, wearing a form-fitting shirt, which showed that his jeans fit like a glove**. He looked dressed for a date, and sat on the closest pillow to Azi in about three seconds, looking up at him adoringly.

If it hadn't been obvious before, it was now: Hermes was utterly, completely sweet on the Principality.

______________
* Which, for Hermes, probably meant stealing, and probably included fun and ridiculous things like black bodysuits, droplines, and putting postage stamps on the lenses of security cameras.

** Of course, they were is Favourite Jeans, and as we all know, FJs always fit like a glove and have at least ten holes. They are also that particular shade of blue that only comes after eight million and sixty-two washings. On the perma press cycle.

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

Ellie slipped into the room a few moments later, smiling slightly when she saw the peculiar little audience Aziraphale had already collected. The smile faded a bit when she'd got a good look at Hermes, however--more specifically, the look of starry-eyed adoration on Hermes' face as he gazed at the angel.

Oh dear. This bodes ill, she thought, observing that Aziraphale didn't seem to have noticed. Typical. She was fairly sure that someone else was going to, though.

After a moment's hesitation--this move was guaranteed to draw attention, something she usually tried to avoid--she went to a spot on the angel's opposite side, tugging another pillow a bit closer so it was more or less directly across from Hermes, and curled up on it like some big cat settling into its favorite snoozing spot on a warm afternoon.

The predatory implications were not altogether unintended. Hermes had wandered into more dangerous territory than he could know, and if Crowley wasn't around to bring this fact to his attention then someone else had better do it before things got too far out of hand.

The fact that the hapless god had also swiped what Ellie considered her storytime spot had, of course, absolutely nothing to do with it.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

Aziraphale sent her a warm, happy smile, looking benevolently down at the succubus near his feet. "Hello, dear girl," he whispered. "I'm glad to see you."

He patted Hermes' shoulder, too. "No snakes today, Hermes? Shame, they're such nice girls. Are you comfortable?"

It was nice to be so cozily set between such good friends, the angel thought happily.

[diaktoros.livejournal.com]

"They're shedding, so they're cranky," he answered, relishing the small touch and wrapping the memory up in a bow to look at later. He neglected to mention that after they were done shedding, they were going to look for something to shag--preferably Crowley*. Hermes wonderd if any eggs would come of it, and what they would be.

Seeing Ellie, he smiled. "Hi miss Ellie!" he greeted. "Ooh, I like your outfit today! It looks well on you."

He blushed, realising that he was probably talking too much for a library, and quieted.

____________________
* A) Crowley was the sexiest thing they'd ever seen and B) He was not a mortal snake, making him that much more attractive. Eggs would most likely come of it as the three were the 'same' species, as it were...but only expirimentation would tell.

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

Ellie smiled fondly at Aziraphale and gave Hermes a guarded look, though like any woman she couldn't help but be secretly pleased at the compliment. He was a sweet thing, but between the kleptomania, the seemingly fragile ego and this unfortunate crush, he just seemed like a crisis waiting to happen.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

He had waited long enough. After all, no one should be kept from their supper, and he would hate to run too late.

"For anyone who's present today for my storytelling," Aziraphale began, touching his glasses nervously despite the steadiness and clarity of his voice, "I'm ready to begin. Thank you for coming," he added, nearly forgetting his manners.

He glanced down at the cover, smiling faintly. "I chose a book of folk and fairytales, and from that book I found a story called, The Aztec Sun. And without further delay - are you certain you're all comfortable? - I'll launch right in."

The angel assumed his storytelling voice as he spoke, measured and thoughtful words, gentle and strong by turns. He loved reading books (albeit it was usually quite silently) and he loved listening to himself, although he'd never admit that to Crowley.


"Before the Sun that now shines brightly over Mexico came into being, there had been other suns; four in all. Each died away in turn before our present Sun appeared." A beat.

"The fourth Sun, Chalchuitlicu, had been a water goddess, copper-coloured and dressed in emerald green. For hundreds of years she provided light and warmth; and in that time the first men and women appeared on Earth. But other gods grew jealous of the Sun God; some reproached her for giving fire to humans - for they did not always use it wisely." (Prometheus, the Inquisition, and my bookshop, Aziraphale agreed silently.)

"One night, the black God of Darkness," he continued, "began to torment the gentle copper Sun, saying that she had grown too vain and selfish. At this, Chalchuitlicu burst into tears and lost control of the waters thus released. The tears put our her light and then the sky rained down upon the earth in torrents.

"The land vanished into darkness beneath a mighty flood which drowned all human life: every man and woman turned into fish; all, that is, save one lone family which survived to start the human race again."


Aziraphale peered over the tops of his glasses to see who was smirking at the similarity of the story.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Damn it, thought Crowley, Why'd he have to pick a fucking flood story?

He remembered the Flood quite well. It was hard to forget a month's worth of poison death raining from the sky drowning nearly everyone you know. He'd rarely felt so helpless. Even inside the ark he'd been very ill from breathing in the holy water vapour. In the end, it only cemented his belief that God didn't really care about the creatures he'd created. If He had, Crowley reasoned, He wouldn't always be drowning them, destroying them in righteous fire, or allowing them to Fall from grace.

Now in a very bad mood, he squatted in the far corner of the bookcases and wrapped his arms around his knees in a subconscious protective gesture. He hoped this would be over soon so that he could leave.

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial slipped in behind Crowley, padding along the floor without even the faintest whisper of breath; his nature gave him a few advantages. He would be a gulf of nothing in Crowley's supernatural senses, and the demon's head was turned away from him besides.

He squatted down beside Crowley in one fluid motion, curled his finger beneath the disheartened demon's chin, and tipped Crowley's face up to look at the angles of it properly. "Why so sad?" he murmured. "Time passes, and you've got something much better than fragile faith in a hypocritical God." His eyes flicked towards the reading angel and he gave Crowley a darkly brilliant, knowing smile.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley looked up, surprised. He hadn't heard or sensed anyone approaching and having someone able to touch him without any prior indication is disconcerting indeed.

"Belial?" A faint smile crossed his face. "How the... not hell are you?"

He followed Belial's glance and looked at Aziraphale ensconced in his chair, Ellie and Hermes at his feet like adoring worshippers.

"I don't know, Bel," he whispered. "It's different for us. We have a lot of history."

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Sliding down beside Crowley, Belial leaned against the demon companionably, hefting a heavy volume from the stack of books on the very bottom shelf. It was a dusty copy of Encyclopedia of European Geology and Tectonics. Volume F.

"'Fissures: Elongated fractures or cracks on the slopes of a volcano. Fissure eruptions typically produce liquid flows, but pyroclastics may also be ejected.'" He paused, blinked, and shook his head. "That was about as helpful as a pointy rock in a water bed. I was hoping to find something inspiring on the first try."

He looked up at Crowley and gave him a reassuring smile. "You two will be fine. Trust me. Besides," he grinned mischievously, "an immortal would have all sorts of history with anyone to find as good a kisser as you."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Giving Belial a puzzled glance, Crowley allowed the familiarity and smirked back. "If you're angling for another, you could just come right out and say so..."

Then he sobered a bit. "It's not the kissing that's an issue, though. It's just... before about twenty years ago, we only ever saw each other once every few years. It got more frequent as we went on, but I still spent most of my time alone. Now he's around all the time. And I want him around all the time. But there's still a lot to work around. Things we've never discussed. Things that never came up when we were just friends. Like why one doesn't bring up traumatic events from the past in public, for starters."

Crowley glowered again for a moment, then relaxed. "But you don't want to listen to this crap. How are you doing? And Gabriel? Talked him into the Full Monty yet? He doesn't seem quite as cold as usual..."

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

"Am I so transparent?" he teased, waggling his hand dramatically.

Belial shut the encyclopedic volume and let it dangle between his knees, looking back towards Aziraphale. "There's a lot to get around. It'll be difficult. But if you care any whit about one another then you'll get around it."

He scrunched up his nose. "Take my word for it, you'll figure it out--he'll figure it out. You've got eternity, and until you adjust just don't stop talking. If you stop talking it'll all fall apart."

"As for Gabriel and I, we're getting along quite well. I'll leave it to your imagination to what I do with him in my spare time, because I think he'd be a bit miffed if you followed him about smirking madly. And really, he's rather warm..."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley laughed then. But quietly. He didn't want to draw Aziraphale's attention. And it was probably a good thing he hadn't yet noticed how much attention Hermes was paying to the angel. "Like a pane of glass. You never were all that subtle."

He slumped comfortably against the undemon. "And listen to you talking about communication and caring. When the hell did you become Mr. Long-Term Relationship Expert? I always thought you were the love-'em-and-leave-'em type. Except for messenger boy. I'll just take your word on his relative temperature, thanks."

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

"Let's just say I spent a great deal of time watching humans. Not all of them have it figured out, and the ones that have it figured out don't think they do," he said, grinning sideways at Crowley. "Surely you've seen it. We're no more emotionally mature than human teenagers; you and Aziraphale are the voices of human and emotional experience and you still don't know how to be in love."

Belial tilted his head back against the bookcase and closed his eyes. "We're all still growing up. I've lived in desperation. Gabriel has lived in ignorance. We're all just wayward children of a God who didn't get it right the first time 'round. But at least humans do well, right? Maybe he'll perfect it on the third try, if there is one."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

"Sure, I've watched humans, but I don't agree that they know what they're doing. We get more souls for Hell from love than anything else. You know that." He laid his head on Belial's shoulder. "And seeing someone else walking through the park hand-in-hand isn't exactly a manual for how to do it yourself. Damn, it took me a millennia or two to figure out what the hell I was feeling anyway, because demons can't love, supposedly. Or shouldn't. Or whatever the fuck they tell us. And angels are supposed to love everything but mostly Him. Not one being specifically or else they tumble. ... Are you worried about that? For yours, I mean? What with Michael and everything?"

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial flicked a strand of hair across Crowley's nose, playful.

"You think we're that much different than humans? We learn and fuck up like any one else. We've got a bit more weight to pull, more responsibility, so I suppose our punishment is more harsh for our screw-ups. But love isn't one of them. People go to Hell because they do the wrong thing for love, not because they love. I did the wrong thing for love, when I could have had my joy right there, when I was too ashamed to confront my desires. Afraid."

Hand cupped, he caught a feathery mote of dust in his palm and lit it afire with dancing blue flames. It wisped, a tiny gasping crackle, and expired into nothing. "This is what they are to us, all dust and fire, in our hours, they live whole years while everything around them spins."

"To find love so quickly, a thing that takes us so long to even recognize, maybe something is to be gained from watching mortals hold hands in a park."

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley snorted.

"You could have had your joy right there? Somehow I don't think so. I can't imagine that even archangels are allowed to bugger each other in Heaven. Would you have been able to accept love without sex? Do you think you'd have been able to convince him to even try if you were both angels? Not that angels are incapable of being the instigating parties..." His glance flicked to Aziraphale holding court, trying to disguise his good looks with bad clothes. No one looking at him would ever believe that he'd made all the first moves in their relationship, and that was part of what the demon found so damn appealing about him.

"I still think we could find love just as quickly as any human if we know we can have it. But just imagine introducing love to Hell. Not much of a punishment anymore then, is it? And in Heaven? Angels breaking up with one another? Causing anger, jealousy, and lust? Neither side would ever get any work done. Both would get fucked up, just like the Earth, only worse because we're all immortal. Your ex-boyfriend would never go away. Total chaos and destruction."

[lordofthesouth.livejournal.com]

Belial turned his dark eyes on Crowley, face suddenly hard, the demon's words like nails raked across old wounds barely begun to heal. "You can listen to me, or you can listen to your cynicism. If you don't think I could accept love without sex then you are sorely mistaken. I've suffered through Hell for Gabriel. Literally. I'm not a martyr, nor am I a saint; I have my selfish reasons for doing it, and I have and am still willing to accept responsibility for my errors."

He unclenched his fist and stood. "And you're wrong. We can't. Not us. We don't trust like that. It took the both of us centuries to fall in love, and ten times that long to admit it. There is love in Hell, but you might be too blinded by being on Earth so long to see it; it's not always happy, or fun, or even good, but it's there and it flourishes. Love already exists in the purest of places, just as it exists in the most depraved. It's not love at fault, it's only us."

"I can't change reality for you, my friend."

Tongue stinging from the anger in his own words, he turned his face from Crowley and left as he had come, shadowy silent.

[anthony-crowley.livejournal.com]

Crowley stared at Belial's retreating back, wondering what he'd said to set him off. Then he snorted.

"If you really think we're the ones at fault, Belial, you're way more cynical than I am," he murmured, wrapping his arms around his knees again to avoid a chill.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

The storyteller noticed nothing, not the newcomer or anyone, really. He began again, low but clear, his very British voice enunciating his words brilliantly. He sounded like one of those grandfather storyteller figures.

It was extraordinarily contrasting to his appearance (if not his clothing).

"When the sky thus fell on Earth, the gods opened up four roads beneath the land, where they created four giants and some sturdy trees. And then together - the gods, the trees, the giants - all tried to lift the Earth from under the vales of tears. They heaved and pushed until the land rose upwards and all the water fell away. At last they managed to fasten the land securely to the sky.

"But the Earth was still plunged in utter gloom; it had no dawn, no dusk, no sunlit days. The vales of tears were salty, there was thus no fresh water, for no Sun appeared to draw the tears back up to heaven and change them into rain.

"It was then that the gods resolved to give the world a fifth and final Sun. They argued loud and long, but eventually it was decreed: There had to be a Sun.

"And there must be moonlight while the Sun is at rest.

"But who would do the job?

"After all, the first four Suns had died away. The gods ordained a sacrifice: whoever volunteered would not live to see themselves as Sun or Moon, but would have to change their form so that the Sun and Moon could last forever.

"Only one god came forward," and here Aziraphale looked up, apologetic as he attempted the next word. The language of the Aztecs were not quite his specialty, and while he had approved of cocoa he rather disliked the sacrificing to the gods aspect. "Tecuciztecatl, God of Snails and Worms. He was rich and strong and vain. He thought by sacrificing himself he would gain immortal glory. He wished therefore to be the Sun.

"No one else was willing. Uneasily, the gods looked around them; there had to be a second sacrifice to make the Sun and the Moon. Their gaze fell at last upon a humble goddess in their midst: Little Nana, the unsightly one. If she agreed, the gods declared, they would transform her body.

"Poor Nana did not want to die. Yet she smiled gently when they told her she might light up and warm the Earth; for she might help little children not yet born.

"The gods began their preparations. Two tall stone altars were erected: one for the Sun, one for the Moon - though which was which had yet to be agreed. Both sacrifices were bathed and dressed in their own way.

"The God of Snails and Worms put on a fine plumage and brightly-coloured robes, earrings of tourquoise and jade, and a collar of shining gold.

"Little Nana had no such finery. So she daubed her red-raw body white and donned a thin, torn paper dress. That was all."

[diaktoros.livejournal.com]

Hermes itched to lean up and look at the word, and taste it, wrap his tongue around and through the exotic collection of sounds. He didn't want to spoil the enchantment, though, so he sat still and merely fidgeted with his hands a little to stave off a bit of the energy. So strange, how so many had myths involving a world-wide flood. And why would the god of snails and worms be rich and strong? And what was this obsession with the one ugly deity? (Hermes was still confused about that one, even though his own pantheon had Hephestus)

This is why Old Stories enthralled him--so many points of similarity, so much to discuss and wonder about!

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Meanwhile, beneath the altars, the gods had built a sacrifical pyre. So many logs of wood were heaped upon it that the heavens seemed to light up in the roaring blaze. At this sight, the God of Snails trembled in fear and bit his lip; yet Little Nana sat quietly by, her hands folded in her lap.

Tecuciztecatl was honoured to be the first to leap into the flames. At the gods' command, he drew near the pyre..."

[pedigreemongrel.livejournal.com]

There was the patter of paws in the hallway. Little paws, persistent paws. Dog was on the trail of a rat, although instincts far more sophisticated than (and just as important as) a simple terrier's told him, very gently, that this was not a rat that it would be wise to pursue. A dog's habits are not hard to entirely ignore.

Sirius had met up with him halfway, and more out of boredom and a certain gnawing loneliness than any real interest, he had tagged along, his footsteps wandering behind the quiet clatter of Dog's businesslike claws, pausing here and there to examine a framed picture on a wall, a bit of interesting frippery on a shelf, or the view from a window. They enjoyed one another's company in the tacit way of canines everywhere, a natural and unforced feeling of togetherness, an unspoken treaty against cats and newspaper men everywhere.

Mr. Sniffles's trail led Dog right to the library, where he paused, aware of a certain feeling of power in the air, subdued; there were demons here, and a creature reading from a book, the kind of creature that ordinarily would have made him (or at least his hellhound half) bristle. But surely there was no harm being done here. His steps slowed, his nose lifted from the ground, and he padded into the library cautiously, followed by Sirius, who paused to lean against the stacks behind Aziraphale's little circle of pillows, making as little noise as possible, thrusting his hands into his pockets and attempting without success to be normal-looking despite his unkempt hair and unshaven jaw. Then again, perhaps here a man who looked like a raving madman was relatively commonplace. He stood still, pretended not to look at the other people in the room (this was particularly difficult in Ellie's case) as he absorbed the story and formulated his own beginning for it. Aziraphale reminded him vaguely of Remus: the sort of loveably-frumpy Englishman who did do things like storytime with Aztec myths and probably was going to make a nice cup of tea directly afterwards. He found the sound of Aziraphale's voice, an accent and a tone that was familiar, and the sound of the words, alien and unusual, inexplicably soothing, and he felt jittered nerves calming in their influence.

Nudging Dog with his toe, Sirius slid as silently as possible to sit on the floor, the hellhound flopping companionably down next to his knees, head stretched out along the floor and his ears perked, for all the world as if he were listening, as well.

[chantinellie.livejournal.com]

Ellie glanced around at the sound of another entrance, and blinked in surprise as a Hellhound disguised (very well disguised, she amended) as a small flop-eared dog accompanied a disreputable-looking man with a very unusual aura into the room. Neither seemed inclined to disrupt Aziraphale's reading, and the man had a look about him of someone who preferred to remain unnoticed, a sentiment she understood very well.

So when he shot her a covert look (hmm, pretty eyes, she noted in passing) and immediately dropped his gaze again, she smiled slightly but let him get away with it, turning her attention back to the story without comment. She could investigate later. For the moment, she kept the peculiar pair in her peripheral awareness the same way she was Hermes, content to live and let live as long as nobody tried anything funny.

[ineffable-angel.livejournal.com]

"Tecuciztecatl stood tall and grand upon his pillar of white stone, his plume of red and green and yellow streaming in the breeze. But his courage failed him and he drew back abruptly, pale and trembling. Three times he was summoned, and three times he nervously stepped back."

Aziraphale didn't blame him. The story, however...

"The gods finally lost patience and turned to Little Nana, crying, 'Jump!'

"She stepped forward instantly and stood unflinchingly on the pillar's edge. Then she closed her eyes, smiled bravely as she thought of her sacrifice for the people, and leapt into the red heart of the flames.

"Angry and ashamed - but more afraid the noble power of the Sun would not be his - the God of Snails and Worms shut tight his eyes and jumped. But his leap was to one side, where the fire was weakest and the ash thick.

"Just then an eagle swooped from nowhere into the flames, then out again so swiftly only his wingtips were singed. He flew upwards swiftly with a bright ball of fire held in his beak - like a fiery arrow through the sky - until he reached the eastern gates of Tectihuacan. There he left the ball of fire - for thus Little Nana had become - and she took her seat upon a throne of billowing clouds. She had golden shining tresses strung with pearls and precious shells, shimmering in the mists of dawn; her lips were brightest scarlet.

"Never was the dawn so beautiful. A great roar of pleasure issued from the gods and rumbled through the morning sky.

"And then a hawk swooped into the burning embers of the fire and was scorched a charcoal black; it emerged at once with a glowing, ash-coloured ball of fire held in its beak. And this it carried to the sky and placed beside the Sun.

"Thus the cowardly God of Snails became the Moon.

"The gods were angry with the feeble Moon and one flung - dear me - a rabbit at him - the nearest thing at hand. The rabbit flew straight and true, striking the Moon full in the face. Ever since, when the Moon is full, you may see the scars left by the rabbit's long ears and flying feet.

"As the Sun makes her journey around the world, bringing warmth and light, the Moon sets off in vain pursuit. But he is always slow to start; and when, cold and weary, he reached the west, the Sun has long since set; by now his once-fine robes have turned to tatters.

"That is the story of the fifth and final Sun."

Aziraphale closed the book. "The End," he added, as an afterthought, in case anyone had accidentally fallen asleep (he didn't see any sleeping faces, but then, he didn't trust his storytelling abilities either, and the cushions were awfully comfy...). The angel smiled benevolently, bizarrely similar to a grandfather clock, down at the mismatched audience.