Work Text:
48 BCE
It was hot. There was a cool breeze blowing in off of the Mediterranean but was heated to match the dry desert air. Aziraphale, an angel, stood outside of the Roman hippodrome, waiting under the limited shade of a palm frond to escape the sun, snacking on some honeyed dates. He stepped back from the bustle of merchants and spectators, practicing a look of indifference, aloofness and boredom. He normally would have been inside the Lageion instead of loitering outside it but he was waiting for someone who, predictably, was late. The previous night he’d run upon Crawly in the Jewish Quarter of the city and they had promised to meet here, now, today.
“Waiting long?” Crawly asked, appearing suddenly at his side, sipping something through a silver drinking straw.
“Yes,” Aziraphale remarked testily. “I’ve been here for an hour.”
“Huh,” was the only reply the angel received. Then: “Follow me, angel.”
The demon’s black robes were fluttering behind him as they walked through the city. Back through the Jewish Quarter, past the barracks of the soldiers that were currently trying very hard to prevent Caesar from arbitrating the will of the previous pharaoh and settling the succession matter. There wasn’t much going on besides.
The angel and the demon didn’t speak as they walked through the crowds. Aziraphale just trailed along behind the demon, occasionally popping a date into his mouth.
They walked along the water, toward the Posidium. There, Crawly stopped and leaned against a marble column. “Hold this, will you?” He asked, holding out the cup with the straw in it.
Aziraphale took it and sniffed it, the smell of alcohol was unmistakable. Beer and not the diluted sort given to the laborers and slaves. This was the good stuff, if you believed there was such a thing. Aziraphale wrinkled his nose.
“Alright, you don’t have to drink it,” Crawly said. “I’m just asking you to hold it.”
“I am!” Aziraphale said, demonstrating his holding of the cup. “What are we doing here? There are soldiers everywhere, I don’t want to be stabbed because of some demonic hijinks.”
“You won’t be stabbed,” Crawly said, kicking some dirt off of a cache he’d obviously placed there earlier. “We aren’t doing anything worth being stabbed over.”
Aziraphale watched as Crawly uncovered a polished, handheld mirror, a highly polished aspis, and some remnants of straw.
“What exactly are we doing?” Aziraphale asked, as Crawly approached him with his arms outstretched. The angel could feel his ears burning.
Crawly placed his hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders, a jolt of something ran down his arms, causing him to shiver in the heat. Well, he was ignoring that. He turned the angel, directing him straight toward Pharos across the harbor.
“Wait here,” the demon said, hurrying over to the cache and hefting the large aspis. The weight wasn’t a hindrance to him but he did make a show of struggling with it just in case someone was watching. He handed the shield to Aziraphale. “Hold this.”
Aziraphale took the aspis with one hand, still holding the cup in the other, not bothered with the show of preternatural strength. Crawly admired him for a moment.
“You know, Crawly, when we met last night I thought we might dine together and go our own ways. Not that I mind this excursion, it is nice to see the city. I rarely walk along the harbor, but you’ve been unusually quiet and making me hold all these things. What are we doing here?” Aziraphale asked, holding up the aspis and the cup of beer.
“You are helping me.” The demon said, picking up the polished mirror. “Hold on, I have to get into position.”
Aziraphale watched, exasperated, as the demon ran along the harborside, his red hair streaming behind him. The angel admired the way he moved, nimble and lovely. He caught himself blushing and gave himself a quiet talking to. Crawly was created by God and he thought all of Her creations were beautiful.
“Angel!” The demon shouted, waving his arms to get Aziraphale’s attention. “Catch the light!”
Aziraphale watched as Crawly waved his hands. He was shouting something about catching something. He shrugged and shook his head. The demon huffed and jogged back.
“I need you to bounce the sunlight off of the shield, angel.” Crawl used his robe and polished a spot on the shield. “Down toward me.” He took a sip of his beer through the straw. “I’ll let you know when we’re good.”
“Right. What are we doing, exactly?”
Crawly didn’t answer, he just ran off pretending he didn’t hear the angel’s question. Once again he picked up the mirror and waited as Aziraphale picked up the aspis and held it up, quickly figuring out the right angle. Crawly shouted and gave Aziraphale a ring gesture, letting him know to stay still. He made adjustments to his mirror.
Aziraphale was confused. Crawly brought him out to the harbor mysteriously, handed him a shiny, bronze shield, and then ran away. Now the demon was telling him he loved him? He shrugged, Crawly probably didn't know what it meant. The angel sipped the beer without thinking much about it, surprised at the sweet taste. He was expecting something much worse. It should be alright, as long as he didn’t drink to intoxication.
“C’mon angel,” Crawly shouted, running at him at full speed.
“What’s going on now?” Aziraphale demanded, mid-sip.
“Nothing, we just should just go. Drop the shield.”
“I really think you should tell me what is going on. I don’t mind being helpful but I have to draw a line somewhere. I mean, you are a demon and I’m an angel. Technically we shouldn’t even be talking to each other.” The angel rambled.
“Aziraphale. It was nothing, we’re done now. You wanted to get something to eat, I hear there’s a great new thermopolium on the lake side of the city. I’ve heard they have the best souvlaki in town.”
“I’m not stupid Crawly. What is all this for?”
“I’ll tell you while we eat,” the demon held his hand out, glancing quickly over his shoulder.
Aziraphale eyed the proffered hand warily before leaning the aspis against the Posidium and handed Crawly his beer back, rather than take the hand himself. “Where is this place then?”
The demon drank the rest of the sweet beer, performing a quick miracle to refill his cup. He much preferred the pure sweetness of the dates, honey, and pistachio to the nutrient rich, watered down version given to the slaves and workers currently dispatched through the city repairing damage done by Pothinus’ original besiegement of Caesar and his men.
Crawly led Aziraphale further into the city, walking through the marketplace and finding himself having to double back frequently as stall keepers caught Aziraphale’s eye with silks, spices, and trinkets from all over Africa, Asia, and the rest of the Mediterranean. Crawly even ended up paying 25 denarii to a particularly persistent basket weaver.
“It is a lovely basket,” Aziraphale was saying, admiring his new basket. “A lot of hard work and time probably went into it. It was nice of you to buy it.”
“Not nice,” Crawly hissed over his shoulder. “I'm a demon, remember? Demons aren’t nice .”
“Do you like being a demon, Crawly?” Aziraphale asked, carrying the basket under his arm. “I know you don’t like some of what Hell expects you to do, but if you could not be a demon, would you?”
“What else would I be, angel?” The demon asked as they approached the lakeshore in the south of the city. “If the choices are demon, human, or angel I’m fine with being a demon.”
“Oh,” Aziraphale said, sounding surprised. “I’ll go find us a seat, shall I?”
Crawly nodded as he went into the thermopolium to fetch the food. He reemerged ten minutes later with a variety of things for Aziraphale to sample, both Greek and Egyptian. He also set down another cup of beer.
“There isn’t much else to drink, angel.” He explained.
Aziraphale had already picked up some dolma and was biting into it. He closed his eyes and hummed happily. “Delicious!”
Crawly ignored the jolt of whatever that was traveling down his spine. “Glad you like it,” he said.
The two shared the tray of dishes, Aziraphale either humming or wiggling happily as he found the next bite more delicious than the first. Crawly had to hand it to Aziraphale, he’d taken the whole eating of human food and run with it. It was one of the few times the demon could remember the angel looking truly happy.
“Seems to be a column of black smoke. I hope it’s nothing serious,” Aziraphale said, taking a sip of beer. It tasted better than before.
Crawly didn’t bother looking. “Maybe the fighting’s started up again. Ptolemy’s man seems a bit reluctant to share power. Especially with a woman.”
Aziraphale shook his head. “It’s a shame men keep underestimating them. I wonder if I should go and try to stop the fighting?”
“It’s not like it’s your assignment to keep the peace here. I wouldn’t get involved unless it gets serious.”
The angel frowned. He happened to think any time men were stabbing swords and spears into one another was rather serious. “That fire looks pretty bad.”
“They’re probably trashing the harbor. That is what a siege is.”
“Their own city, though?”
Crawly shrugged. “War isn’t my area of expertise, angel.”
The angel and demon continued to eat and once they’ve finished off all of the savory dishes, it was Aziraphale’s turn to find something sweet to finish the meal off. Crawly watched the black plume of smoke become larger.
“Crawly,” Aziraphale said breathlessly, sitting back down across from him, no sweets in sight. Not a dragati or halawa anywhere to be seen. “Something terrible happened.”
The demon looked around. “What? Were they out of baklava?”
“No, you idiot.” Aziraphale said sharply. The angel took a few deep breaths before speaking again. “Sorry, that was unbecoming. But they’ve burned the library!”
“Who did? What library?” Crawly asked, taking a long sip from his cup.
“It had to have been the soldiers. So much information and knowledge, it’s tragic!” Aziraphale said, eyes shining. “We should go and see if we can help.”
“Sorry, angel. I don’t really do help. I’m sure it’ll be fine. They probably have it out by now and it can’t have all gone up so quickly.”
“Papyrus burns fairly quickly, Crawly. I still want to go and see. If I can offer assistance, I’m obliged to, I think.” The angel got to his feet, retreading back the way they had come about an hour earlier.
Crawly sighed loudly and debated following him. Cursing, he kicked the chair out from under him and caught the angel up. “I’m only going to watch,” he said.
“I expected just as much, Crawly. I mean, we were just down here, weren’t we? We might have seen something suspicious. Do you remember anyone sneaking about?”
Crawly did, as a matter of fact. “No, nobody. Especially not any soldiers who were the ones who were supposed to have done it.” He silently cursed himself as he said it.
“How odd.” Aziraphale said.
The angel and the demon made their way back through the winding paths of the city, this time avoiding the marketplace that distracted Aziraphale so much before (“Oh no, I’ve forgotten the basket!”). They were stopped a block from the harbor wall, the plume of black smoke that had been visible from the thermopolium blanketing the old library.
“They’ve gotten it out already,” Crawly said, “I told you they would.”
“Still, all of the scrolls that burned. There are so many that are likely to be one of a kind. Some truly great things could be lost forever.”
“You are being just a touch dramatic don’t you think, angel?” Crawly asked, watching as the Vigiles were crowded around the sipho as they watched the soggy mess of scrolls smolder.
Aziraphale frowned and marched over to speak to the centurion. Crawly watched as the two seemed to have a lengthy and in depth conversation. The demon was about to leave the angel to figure things out without being in the general vicinity. Aziraphale seemed to sense this and marched straight back to Crawly.
“Find out anything interesting?”
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at Crawly for a very long moment before shaking his head. Eventually he smiled, “No. Looks like it was an accident, afterall.”
“Oh, really?” Crawly said, unsure if he was being lulled into a false sense of security but smiled back tentatively.
“Let’s go back. We’ll get something sweet and take a walk along the lake,” the angel said, grabbing the demon’s hand and once again leading him through the streets of Alexandria.