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hh_mirror((Open to anyone else who happens to be on top of the Astronomy tower at dawn, or who wants to run into Cas on the way downstairs.))
---
Castiel stood at the parapet of the Astronomy tower, oblivious to the punishing wind that whipped away the steam of his breath and the frost that was slowly encrusting his trench coat and hair, and watched the sun rise.
It was Christmas, a holiday which (in and of itself) held little meaning for him. The actual birth of Christ had not occurred in December, and most of the other details and traditions now cherished by men were similarly inaccurate, if not adopted wholesale from some other religion.
This year, however, he found himself compelled to pause and mark the occasion, but for reasons of his own that had nothing to do with human tradition.
And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be. And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.
It was a very pretty passage. Cas smiled sadly to himself, trying to imagine how (roughly translated) the Annunciation had probably really gone:
Hey, babe! Wow, I can see why he chose you. Talk about a hot mama-to-be. Listen, Dad just wanted me to stop by and tell you tha--whoa whoa, put down the pot, lady! Geez, shoot the Messenger, why don't you. Look, I'm just here to pass along a memo, so why don't you just calm down and listen a minute, and then I'll get back to that sweet little number a few tents over and you can carry on watching the camel cheese curdle or whatever you were doing, okay? So, here's the thing: you're marrying that Joseph guy pretty soon, right? Well, you might want to consider moving the date up a little, or else your gown's gonna need some alterations...
Castiel wasn't sure what Gabriel had thought of the way humans chose to commemorate the alleged anniversary of the birth. But he did know that--like the one whose coming he'd heralded--the archangel had sacrificed himself, not in the name of God or truth or any lofty principle, but in the name of mankind.
Because, flawed though they were, a lot of them tried. And sometimes, sometimes they got it right.
"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior, which is Christ the Lord," he recited quietly, staring into the morning's brilliance unblinking. "Merry Christmas, Gabriel."
When the sun had cleared the horizon, he turned and descended into the castle to wait for his friends to wake, absently brushing off icicles as he went.
---
Castiel stood at the parapet of the Astronomy tower, oblivious to the punishing wind that whipped away the steam of his breath and the frost that was slowly encrusting his trench coat and hair, and watched the sun rise.
It was Christmas, a holiday which (in and of itself) held little meaning for him. The actual birth of Christ had not occurred in December, and most of the other details and traditions now cherished by men were similarly inaccurate, if not adopted wholesale from some other religion.
This year, however, he found himself compelled to pause and mark the occasion, but for reasons of his own that had nothing to do with human tradition.
And the angel came in unto her, and said, Hail, thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women. And when she saw him, she was troubled at his saying, and cast in her mind what manner of salutation this should be. And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.
It was a very pretty passage. Cas smiled sadly to himself, trying to imagine how (roughly translated) the Annunciation had probably really gone:
Hey, babe! Wow, I can see why he chose you. Talk about a hot mama-to-be. Listen, Dad just wanted me to stop by and tell you tha--whoa whoa, put down the pot, lady! Geez, shoot the Messenger, why don't you. Look, I'm just here to pass along a memo, so why don't you just calm down and listen a minute, and then I'll get back to that sweet little number a few tents over and you can carry on watching the camel cheese curdle or whatever you were doing, okay? So, here's the thing: you're marrying that Joseph guy pretty soon, right? Well, you might want to consider moving the date up a little, or else your gown's gonna need some alterations...
Castiel wasn't sure what Gabriel had thought of the way humans chose to commemorate the alleged anniversary of the birth. But he did know that--like the one whose coming he'd heralded--the archangel had sacrificed himself, not in the name of God or truth or any lofty principle, but in the name of mankind.
Because, flawed though they were, a lot of them tried. And sometimes, sometimes they got it right.
"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a savior, which is Christ the Lord," he recited quietly, staring into the morning's brilliance unblinking. "Merry Christmas, Gabriel."
When the sun had cleared the horizon, he turned and descended into the castle to wait for his friends to wake, absently brushing off icicles as he went.
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