Changes in Attitude pt 3

Eight – Rings and Things



Mihdael almost laughed, and then thought better of it. Wounds inflicted by Michael took a very long time to heal. Acting on his own initiative, Liftheon left with Belloc, giving his brother warrior a bemused smile as he faded from sight. Mihdael knew the dark Angel would eventually seek Aleilah out and try to placate her ruffled feelings.

The Archangel slumped down heavily on one of the marble benches, running a hand through his hair--an all-too-human gesture that was becoming very natural to him.

Mihdael leaned against the gray-black marble column; arms crossed, he looked down at his dejected Commander with an expression of amused sympathy. “You should not have disparaged her tunic, Commander. She is very sensitive that way, as God formed it for her Himself.”

“I know. It is unreasonable of me to be bothered by something that does not bother Our Father in the least.” He sighed, another human quality that clearly expressed what he couldn’t verbalize. Only Aleilah seemed able to provoke such human responses from him. “Why is it different now? I do not understand this.”

“You are allowing your protective nature to become possessive. I know, I felt the same way about Elena before she, uh, set me straight,” he smiled wryly at that memory. He had taken umbrage with a few Medieval males who had stared a bit too long at his soon-to-be wife. It was one of the few occasions that she had lost her temper and actually yelled at him. “You were not going to suggest what she said, were you? You would not have her shrouded in layer upon layer of fabric…”

Michael glanced away, unwilling to admit that he considered the idea. What was so wrong about asking her to wear a long, billowy-sleeved, floor length robe and surcoat--both of which could be quite feminine? And, quite concealing.

Instead, he looked up at his Second-in-Command in a very serious manner. “Actually,” he said somberly, “I was thinking of asking her to wear this.”

The air shimmered, and a piece of extraordinarily sheer russet red fabric appeared. Michael eyed it speculatively while waving a casual hand at it, whereupon it fashioned itself into a tiny, barely-there miniskirt. It would have been too small, even for Aleilah. He tilted his head, gave a slight nod, and it disappeared in a puff of orange mist.

Mihdael looked at him, dumbfounded. Then he chuckled, then laughed, sliding down the column until he was sitting on the marble tiles, holding his sides with hilarity.

Michael had not only saved face with a very good joke, but revealed it as well.

His laughter finally died down, until he was able to get to his feet. He avoided his Commander’s eye, trying to conceal his amusement at the Archangel’s depressed state.

Michael’s large, powerful frame slumped inside the bracing armor, and he looked at his Second-in-Command with bemusement. “A ring,” he murmured. “Not a diadem, or a necklace, nor earrings; but a small, trifling bit of metal.”

His gaze fixed on the ‘small, trifling bit of metal’ on Mihdael’s left hand. He reached out, took hold of the warrior’s wrist, and examined the plain gold band closely. “Why does she place such great value on such a small item? Why is it so important to her? Just as it seems to be so very important to you, for you keep this ring with you with the same devotion and commitment as you wear your sword. You are never without either.

“Will you explain it to me?”

“The sword was given to me by God; the ring was given to me by Elena. Both are symbols, for I could just as easily employ AngelFire as a weapon, and I would feel the same about Elena regardless of any token she may give.

“The sword, you need no explanation; but the ring…

“The ring is a symbol of our love, commitment, and the deep esteem and honor that we have for each other. I am proud to wear it.”

“Yes, such an exchange of vows and tokens thereof between mortals--and even mortals and angels--I can well understand. But such is not the case with Aleilah and myself; it should not be necessary. I have told her of my feelings for her; I have given her my bond. The relationship we share, by mutual agreement…” He paused, shook his head. “Is not my word sufficient?”

“Commander, what is that on your armor?"

Somewhat taken aback by the apparent change in subject, the Archangel glanced down at the overlapping Star and Cross design on the silver breastplate. “It is a symbol of the nation and people that I love and protect; and a symbol of my love, devotion, and defense of my Lord God."

“But why do you wear such symbols? After all, is not your word sufficient?"

“I wear it so others will see and know that I have accepted, and… that I stand by… my commitment…" and the Great Light Dawned. “Oh.”

Mihdael leaned over, placed his hand on the Archangel’s shoulder, and grinned. “You see, it is not as difficult a thing as you saw it to be. And,” he added, “it can also be anonymous. I wear Elena’s ring and she wears mine, and all know of it because we wish it to be so.

“Aleilah’s ring will signify commitment--but not necessarily identify the one who made that commitment.”





Nine – God’s Decision



Archangel Michael, Angels Mihdael, Liftheon, and Aleilah, and… the being known as Belloc--all will attend Me in the Throne Room.

All appeared as requested, with Michael at the forefront, and Belloc last in line, keeping Mihdael’s armored form between himself and the glowering Archangel.

I have given this matter careful thought, and although Belloc cannot remain in Heaven, there is naught else where he can be safely sent.

As he is no longer classified as demon or minion, he would face execution in his own dimension; and he would not be welcome in another dimension inhabited by like creatures. He is unsuitable for non-demon dimensions as well, due to his past association with demons and minions of like mind and nature.

God settled back in His throne, hands clasped before Him. He looked intently at the assembled Angels and Archangel. At the extended silence--other than the muted praising that was a continuous background in the Throne Room--Aleilah stepped forward.

She knelt gracefully, and then looked up into His Radiance. “If I may make a suggestion, Father?”

Thou may speak, Daughter.

“It seems obvious to me that Belloc’s gentle nature would make him unsuitable for any demonic plane; and I can understand Your reluctance to send him somewhere that knows little of evil or demons. However, as he is quite taken with the Woodland, and seems quite at home there, I propose that You consider sending him to Earth. Not in the present time, but in the early centuries of the British Isles. The people there would accept him as a… wood spirit or dwarf; he would not come to any harm.”

God’s eyes sparkled with humor, and He laughed. Thou are wise, Counselor. It shall be done.

Belloc, thou are now classified as ‘Troll’; thy abode will be the woodlands of Early England. Thou will be granted abilities to enable thee to not only survive in such a habitat, but to also aid any who would seek thee in good fellowship. Whosoever seek to harm thee, will they themselves suffer grievously; and thou will have the ability to remain invisible to their senses.

Doest thou agree with this proposal?

Belloc edged past Michael, giving the Archangel a look of trepidation. Then he, too, knelt before God. “I accept Your terms, Great Lord of Heaven. I know now that I was completely misinformed on all aspects of Heaven.” He glanced warily back at Michael, “Well, with the possible exception of one aspect.”

“You are safe, Troll,” the Archangel grumbled. “As God has decreed, shall I obey.”

Liftheon smiled happily at Mihdael, the only one of the group who appeared to be less than happy about the arrangement. “Well, at long last our Commander is now in agreement with us. Belloc is no longer connected with the demon element, he has new abilities, and an entire country for a home. Did this not work out well?”

Belloc looked at his Guardian Pro Tem. “You appear sad, Man-Angel. I assure you, I am quite happy with the outcome. It is much better--and preferable--to total destruction.”

Yes, Mihdael, say now that which troubles thee.

“I do not question Thy decision, Father; but, he will be the only one of his kind. To be alone, with no one to speak with, to share his life, to--” He broke off, getting a little too close to home.

Mihdael, more than any other Host of Heaven, knew the pain of being parted from his mate; and the worse pain of being completely alone. The warrior straightened, and continued more strongly, “Would it not be cruel, Father, to send him thusly to ancient Earth, to be all alone?”

Thy point is taken, Mihdael. Very well, then…

God waved His hand, and the air next to Belloc shimmered, sparkled; the energy arcs swirled, then merged into a form very similar to Belloc--with one important difference. Slightly smaller, the creature had long blue hair, lop ears, and deep purple eyes with long, thick lashes. A small, rabbit-like nose twitched over full, delicate lips; and her bosom sagged over her rotund belly, nearly to the floor.

Belloc gazed at the being in wonder, forgetting all about the pretty Woman-Angel, Aleilah.

Belloc, if she so chooses, this will be thy mate. Her name is Bella.

Bella smiled shyly, batting the long lashes at him. Her feet, he noticed right off, were small and dainty, with trim shapely ankles. He was smitten; love claimed him then and there. And Bella, too, appeared quite taken with him.

Unnoticed by all except Michael (and God), Aleilah reached down and unfastened the gold anklets. The links would no doubt go around Bella’s tiny ankles several times.

She quietly sidled over to the Troll, and with a gentle nudge, placed the anklets in the hand he placed behind his back. Belloc gave her a smile and a wink, pleased that she had chosen to keep the shoes.

Aleilah resumed her place between Michael and Mihdael, avoiding the Archangel’s sideways glance.

And as they stood, Troll and Trollette, hand in hand while gazing into each other’s eyes, God waved His hand. They vanished, to take up residence in their new home and era.





Epilog



Archangel Michael paused briefly just outside the entryway to Aleilah’s aerie. He had left his armor at his own aerie, and was attired in his black tunic and silver cloak, with the silver sword belt and sword the only evidence of his Warrior status. Michael had no plans for physical battles today--at least, he smiled to himself, not with his usual adversaries.

Hoping to make up for his ill-timed jealousy-attack, he had spent the past few weeks searching out a certain place; and if he could not find it, then he would create it.

It would have to meet certain criteria:

First and foremost, it had to be somewhere private.

Second, a water source of some type would have to be nearby. He much preferred a lake or ocean to a waterfall, but both would be suitable.

Third, there would be hills, meadows, and valleys covered with thick carpets of green grass and various, vividly colored fragrant wildflowers of orchids, freesia, lilies, and roses.

And Fourth, the nights would never end…

Actually, only the Fourth Criteria was really important to him.

He had found a few candidates, but none had everything he was looking for. So, in a dimension next to Eden, he ‘terra formed’ exactly what he had in mind: his own, personal version of Shangri-La, and just big enough for two.

It would be place to provide some ‘quiet time’ for himself and Aleilah, a place still in Heaven, but apart from it. A place to call their own…

If she accepted it.

Michael could prepare himself for any reaction from her except an angry rejection. He had never been able to shrug off her disapproval, especially when that approval now meant so very much to him. But he valued honesty above all else, and he knew she wouldn’t spare his feelings with a little white lie. And for some reason, he didn’t know if he should be pleased or troubled by that fact.

Not wanting to delay any longer--he didn’t want to impose on Mihdael too much, although he knew the warrior was pleased to take Command in his absence--he approached the archway and called to her. “Aleilah, are you occupied?”

She appeared promptly, and waved him inside. “Not at the moment, Michael. Is something wrong?” Her violet eyes sparkled with welcome, regardless of his purpose.

He grimaced at the fact that his unexpected presence seemed an indication to her that ‘something was wrong’. “No, nothing is amiss. I thought I might visit you and--” He broke off.

Aleilah loved her time on Earth, in any era she lived in; her aerie reflected this Earth-influence, in both style and furnishings. The walls of her aerie had always been some tint of white or pale green, and always some form of plaster. The corners and framing for the ceilings--‘ceilings’ that did not actually exist, as the roof of her aerie opened to Heaven’s very skies--were adorned with heavy, dark cherry wood pillars and crown molding, like that of an old library. The furniture was right out of a Frank Lloyd Wright home or a Medieval castle, with a few couches from Earth's “Leave It To Beaver” era--all in the same dark cherry wood frames, with green and blue upholstery.

The floors were a dark green stone, and the floor of the circular entryway that greeted every visitor was decorated with chips of stone and tile, arranged in the very same image of the Star and Cross design on Michael's breastplate. Oddly enough, she had put that there a few short years after her creation, back when she appeared as a young female, and he hadn’t had the time of day for her, yet she still looked up at him adoringly as her teacher and protector. It was an unhappy piece of their history that hadn’t lasted very long. He was surprised that she had never changed the design, as it was a constant reminder of him as he had been during all those difficult years.

Directly across the entryway was a polished stone fireplace, and over the fireplace was a cherry mantle. A stuffed Pooh Bear and an empty bottle of Vodka rested on one end, and a small pedestal with a hologram of her Earthly adoptive parents, Joe and Maria Carter, was on the other. Placed in the center opening of the fireplace, where the fire would have been, was the Lava Lamp--with those unnerving white globules afloat in green liquid. All were souvenirs of their visits and missions to Earth.

But the center of the mantle… that held his gaze. There sat the gold and white shoes, from Belloc. His auburn brows drew together. “Aleilah…”

She followed his line of vision and smiled to herself, waiting for him to continue--and waiting for his reaction.

He was silent for a few moments, thinking furiously. She had taken the shoes off shortly after Belloc and Bella were sent to Ancient England, and had returned her tunic to its former appearance. Not because he had told her to, but because it had suited her. And although she obviously did not intend to wear the shoes, she just as obviously intended to keep them.

Not only keep them, but place them where they would be the first thing one would see when entering her aerie.

Why?

He could ask her, but he sensed that she expected him to know the reason--whether he actually did or not. And he knew exactly why the shoes were there. All he had to do was recall his first, and last, reaction to seeing them, and the results thereof.

His tensed muscles relaxed, and he looked down at her solemnly. “Is this your method of reminding me not to give in to jealous rages?”

“Only if it worked.” A quiet smile crept over her lovely elfin features.

“Leave them there; a silent reminder can be very useful at times.”

Aleilah glanced at the Vodka bottle, a silent reminder of her own. She frowned, remembering many an Earthly argument between them, and her addiction… She had said, and done, some pretty horrible things to him; but in the end he hadn't abandoned her. He never left her to wallow in her self-pity, never allowed her to sink deeper into her morass of self-destruction…

But there was no need to dwell on any of that; such tokens did their job well. The mistakes of the past were just that: the past. He was here before her now, and many things had changed between them--for the better.

She laughed lightly, and went right into his offered arms for a warm embrace. “You really need not be jealous, my Warrior. Other than our Father, no one else in Heaven commands my attention as you do. And no one pleases me more than you.” She leaned back, and looked up at him, back to her normal, short-for-Heaven, shoeless height. “And I am positive you realize this. Yes?”

He ran a gentle knuckle along the line of her jaw, then his large fingers combed gently through her blue-black hair. Whispering, he leaned over, wanting to be closer to her. “I realize this, yes.”

She smiled and hugged him again.

“Angel…?” Michael spoke quietly.

She hummed, not answering him, content just to be in his arms again, no matter how brief the moment.

“Leea?” His query more insistent this time; she had a tendency to… ‘zone out’ when her thoughts wandered.

She sighed. “Yes. I am sorry; we have so few moments alone.” She pulled away from him, however reluctantly. “I get lost in them at times. You obviously came here for a reason. What is it, Michael?”

“Two reasons, actually. First and foremost, this which you spoke of--our time alone together--is what I wish to discuss.” He crossed his arms, looking down at her with a ‘made-up-my-mind’ expression.

She nodded, almost solemnly. “You want… to discuss… oh, boy…” She turned away from him, facing the mantle. Aleilah always reverted to modern Earth terms and slang when she felt confused or frustrated.

“You, uh…” she looked back at him again, at his stern stance of defense. “You want we should cut back on it? Is it getting too, um… uncomfortable for you?” She winced slightly.

Michael hesitated, realizing his body language and tone of voice was not appropriate for what he was about to request, to offer her. In just one sentence, he had somehow conveyed the exact opposite of what he had come to ask of her. He uncrossed his arms and closed the distance between them, grasping her small hands gently in his large ones. “No! On the contrary, I think I have found a way to… that is, to say I have created… Ummm,” he frowned. “Words are insufficient. It is easier if I just show you!”



***

Nestled comfortably in her Warrior’s powerful arms, Aleilah looked up at him. “This so beautiful, Michael. I just might get you jealous more often, if this is the end result.” The teasing glint in her eyes told him she wasn’t serious.

A gentle, cool breeze came from the ocean, the waves breaking over the reefs and rocks; the waterfall, a short distance away, provided a soothing backdrop of pleasant sound. They reclined in the feathery comfort of Michael’s wings, the long primaries fanned over and around her, keeping her close to him.

Elegant Weeping Willows and tall, strong Oak trees lined the rolling meadow, and the meadow itself was home to a multitude of wildflowers and exotic flora, as if Michael couldn’t decide which she would prefer, and so chose all of them.

The combined fragrance of woods, ocean, and flowers was a perfect romantic blend, and was somewhat surprising for her as she hadn’t thought the stern, taciturn Archangel Warrior and Commander had it in him. It was the rare moments such as these that his insight into her soul both awed and pleased her, and caused her to love him even more.

"I apologize for my jealousy, such was unbecoming for an Officer and Angel of God. I admit I do not fully understand my reactions, but I will guard against any similar reactions in the future.”

“Welll, a little jealousy can be good, too…” She ran her hand through his long, red-gold hair, the lustrous color both a warning and an indicator of his fiery temperament.

He looked down at her, the silver light from the twin moons reflecting in his puzzled eyes. “What you do not understand is how difficult it is for me, Little One, to walk that line. To judge the moment when you enjoy a jealous streak versus the moment when you want to bash me over the head for it.”

“Hmmmm… Michael?”

“Yes?”

“I, too, was unfair to you. I apologize for letting my temper get the better of me. Sometimes, my Earthly life interferes with my Heavenly existence. I wouldn’t trade a day with you for a perfect lifetime on Earth.”

He gave her a bemused look, and she punched his muscular arm playfully. “You know what I mean. And… I know you can’t give me a ring. Rings are for marriage ceremonies, and Angels don’t marry; nor do anything that married mortals do… I know that. And I really prefer it our way.

“I was just being…”

“The Angel I have grown to love.” He kissed her briefly, his wings holding her close.

“Michael, what is the second reason you mentioned?”

He smiled, quiet for the moment, letting her inquisitiveness build to the point that she could no longer contain it.

“Michael! Tell me what you’ve done!”

“Something you have wanted for a long time.”

She gave him a wry look. “You’re going to settle down, get a real job, and start a family?”

Genuine laughter greeted her dour guess, and he winked at her, “I already have a real job, and a family--as for settling down…” He let the sentence trail, a thoughtful expression on his angular features.

“Don’t you dare! Now, tell me!”

“Let me show you instead.”



*** *** ***

They appeared together in Space, in a secluded region of the Cosmos. Hand-in-hand, they alighted on the surface of a flat asteroid as it orbited a larger planet.

Aleilah laughed with merriment. “Is this my ‘rock’, Michael?”

“No…” He looked up, and she followed his gaze.

Above and to their left shone a brilliant new nebula. The midnight blue of Space filled the center, the thin, outer rim a brilliant, glowing nimbus of gold and white gases igniting in a gigantic circle. Positioned on the summit of the upper arc, a pure white swirl of energy created a globe tinged with pale lavender and deep red sparks of energy. And around the outer circumference blazed Michael’s energy sigil, undeniably his signature of commitment to her, and there for any who could recognize it.

Aleilah looked up at him, wide-eyed and speechless.

He smiled down at her wonderment, and finished his comment, “Your ring.”









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Next Part 3 of 4:



“Almighty Afterthought”



In an attempt to learn about Mihdael and Michael’s past association in order to better understand them in the present, Aleilah learns from Liftheon things that Mihdael would just as soon not be reminded of. Angry at her prying, Mihdael refuses to have anything to do with her (and he’s not too happy with Liftheon, either); and in an effort to repair the rift between them, Aleilah turns to God for help. He sends her to an Alternate Reality, as she wants to see if she could have helped to prevent the War in Heaven and mend the conflict between Michael and Mihdael. Lucifer, however, in this Alternate Reality, sees Aleilah's potential not only as a way to further his cause, but as a means to drive a deeper wedge between Mihdael and Michael. As a result of Aleilah's input, Mihdael joins Lucifer's forces with disastrous results for everyone.