The Courting of the Soldier Aziraphale by the Star-Builder Xerzael

by Usedtobehmc

Summary:

**ART MASTER POST**

This right here is a collection of art for my very loosely thought-out headcanons about Zira and Crowley Pre-Fall. Some details may clash, and everything is out of order, but it sure it cute.

Chapter 1: Blue and Gold

 

As Lucifer led his small group of students though the crowded main square, Xerzael's eyes wandered.  Though given strict instructions to keep his head bowed and his eyes only on the student in front of him, he hazarded a glance across the green at the sound of boisterous laughter.  His golden eyes landed on a small group of angels rough-housing.  They each wore only pieces of what was obviously a soldier's uniform, their state of undress suggesting they had just come off of a long day of training and were working out some leftover energy.  They were all obviously built like soldiers; strong and sturdy, all with short hair cropped close to the neck, and some had no hair on top at all. 

One soldier's smile filled his entire face as he pushed at some rowdy cohorts, insisting they leave him be.  He was golden-haired and his eyes were large and expressive.  He showed all of his teeth with he laughed, and his eyes crinkled with mirth.  He spun a piece of cloth about his head like a weapon, playfully swatting his mates and sending them scattering, then used it to dab the copious sweat from his shoulders and chest. 

His eyes were blue.  And the flickered to meet his own. 

Caught, Xerzael spun back around and nearly panicked to realize he'd fallen behind the other apprentices.  He hurried to catch up, thankful that Lucifer had not noticed his distraction. 

Behind him, unseen, the soldier watched him fade into the crowd.    

Chapter 2: Distraction

 

"I was hoping I'd see you today," Aziraphale all but sprinted over to where Xerzael had appeared behind the stone wall bordering the training grounds.  

"Were you now?"  Xerzael smirked, desperately attempting to quell the pounding of his heart in his chest.  He leaned against the wall with a completely fabricated and barely maintained air of cool collectedness, all the while a blush threatened to consume his entire face.  

"Absolutely!" The soldier insisted, genuine and heartbreakingly earnest.  He set his helmet, ornate and gleaming with righteous authority, down on the wall.  Xerzael wondered if he was even allowed to take the ostentatious thing off during training exercises, but then the spear was placed next to it, which promptly fell to the ground and was ignored.   Clearly Aziraphale was unconcerned, and Xerzael knew nothing of the protocol for such things, so he put it out of his mind.

"Ah, I have uh... this for you."  He lifted the delicate crown of wildflowers up and immediately felt the spike of panic that accompanied the reveal of any creative endeavor to another living thing.  Was it utterly foolish and stupid to look at?  Was he gut-clenchingly wrong in his assumption that anyone, let alone a soldier, would appreciate or even WEAR a bloody flower-crown?  His palms instantly began to tremble.

Aziraphale's eyes widened and he reached out to accept the gift with no hesitation.  "How did you do it?  These flowers fall apart if I so much as look at them and you've gone and made this?  It's lovely!"  He gingerly shifted the circlet in his fingers and placed it atop his golden curls with a look of such absurd pride that Xerzael felt that blush return again with a vengeance.  "How do I look?"

Behind Aziraphale, a few gathered cadets glanced in their direction and whispered.

"Perfect," he sighed, unable to look away.

Chapter 3: Valentine

"I feel as though I must see you every day to feel happy. But Sandalphon has told me he doesn't want you visiting and distracting me." Aziraphale pouted as he tucked a stray crimson curl back behind Xerzael's ear.

"Well then," Xerzael began primly, leaning into the soldier's touch.  "Then I won't visit today.  And you won't get in trouble."

Later, after Aziraphale had finally managed to focus on drills, stances and other such tedious training exercises, a ruby-red butterfly cheekily made its way through the ranks and settled on his chest.  It opened and closed its wings a few times, basking in the warmth of Aziraphale's armor before taking flight again, glittering like a precious gem.  Amidst the normal concentration of flora and fauna that speckled the fields where the cadets were lined up, the butterfly went unnoticed by the ranting Sandalphon and the other angels patrolling.   

Aziraphale's heart soared.