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In a darker than average corner, far away from the windows which were in need of a good clean, sat a well used chair. The chair was worn in a way that indicated that time and love played an equal part in the equation. Upon that chair sat a man, or at least a man-shaped being who had just finished a first edition Wilde, was quite happy with the well known ending, and closed it with a satisfied snap. He set the book down on the table next to him. Beside the book were three cups, half filled with hot cocoa, each in a mug adorned with angel wings and a large dowel-like stick. Two of the cocoas had grown cold and the last one was kept warm with nothing but a thought. None of this would be out of the ordinary except for the fact that the being had two pairs of fluffy, pastel pink wings currently folded neatly behind him.
Aziraphale was a Principality, a title which came with some respect. He was even in charge of his own platoon! During The War, Aziraphale had led angels into battle against the rebels. His platoon was known for never losing a life nor taking one. Due to this great success, Aziraphale was given a position as a guard at a garden that was to hold God’s latest project. God Herself only knew the vague outline of the events that were about to take place. The Esteemed Reader probably knows the subsequent events, how a demon who was at the time, named Crawley tempted Eve. Leading to both her and Adam being kicked out of The Garden. The Reader probably also knows that Aziraphale then gave away his flaming sword, and that on the wall that contained the gate that he had sworn to protect, an angel and a demon met. The Reader is probably unaware of what happened after. Aziraphale was reprimanded.
There is an order in Heaven amongst the angels, three spheres, three ranks contained within each. Best translated from Enochian, the highest sphere is called ClosestToMother’sLight, this sphere contains from top command, Archangels, Seraphs, and then Thrones. The second sphere is known as TheBrightnessOfStars which contains, in the same order, Cherubims, Dominions, and Virtues. The lowest of the spheres is called Oh!HowTheHolinessReigns where the Principalities, Powers, and at the bottom, Angels reside. Aziraphale had been stripped of his rank. Demoted. It was the harshest punishment and the furthest demotion since The War and the subsequent Fall. The worst part, the part that was unthinkable, so cruel that Hell wouldn't even consider it, and what probably planted the first seeds of doubt in Aziraphale's mind. They were going to take his wings. The only true reflection of one’s True Form whilst in a corporal body. They were going to take them. For one mistake, for one grievance. He was only trying to help, after all God loved Her project so much, should he have just let humanity die?
He was standing in the corridors of Heaven, awaiting his fate and feeling the judgements of the angels who were both walking past and sitting to watch what would happen to the One Who Defied. Pushing the door open, Aziraphale was shaking. He was about to walk in to reluctantly meet his fate when a hand was placed on his shoulder. It was Gabriel. He was smiling, not a good sign. Gabriel never smiled at things that made Aziraphale happy. His smile would later be compared to one of a door to door salesman.
“Aziraphale!” he bellowed. Aziraphale gave him a cold, small smile. He noticed that Sandalphon was standing next to him. Aziraphale never really liked Sandalphon. He reminded him of a recently created creature, what would then go on to be called a rodent. He thought it an apt descriptor. Now, as an angel he was obligated to love everything and everyone but, that didn’t mean he liked neither Sandalphon nor Gabriel. They were tolerated at best.
“Ah, er, hello Gabriel” Aziraphale said “And Sandalphon. May I inquire as to why you are here? You see, my um, how would you put it, punishment is to commence soon and I would like to get on with it”
“Yes! That is what we would like to talk to you about” Gabriel said through his obviously fake smile, which was only growing larger and more unnerving.
“Yes, your punishment” Sandalphon said slowly, and in a nasally voice that came off as condescending.
“We are here to talk to you about a deal” Gabriel continued, gesturing to both himself and Sandalphon. “We are willing to let you keep both pairs of your wings if you accept a position as an agent on Earth.” He punctuated the end of the sentence with a clap of his hands. Aziraphale was just about to respond with an enthusiastic ‘Yes!’ before Sandalphon picked up and then continued the conversation.
“We think that Earth would be a great place for an angel like” He paused, looking Aziraphale up and down, scrunching his face. It made him look even more rodent like than before “you.”
“Sadly, you would still be demoted from a Cherubim to a Principality but, you would still get to keep your wings, and I know that you wouldn’t want to go losing those would you?” Gabriel stopped talking after that, looking at Aziraphale expectedly. Sandalphon finished the pitch “So? What do you say?”
Aziraphale waited a few moments to make it appear as though he was considering the offer. In reality, he had already made up his mind. “Yes, that does sound agreeable.”
“Great!” Gabriel clapped once more. “So we are going to send you down right now, so, bye, off you go.”
“R-right now? But I have to gather my thoughts and straighten out my corporation!” Aziraphale stuttered out. Gabriel opened the door in front of him, what was once going to be the center of his demise was now a gateway into the desert, in the middle of Earth.
“Well! You look ready to me. Time to go be a smiting machine, battle your demonic counterpart, perform blessings!” Gabriel smiled again, Aziraphale never did like the things he smiled at.
“My-, smite who, my what?!” Aziraphale was shocked, he didn’t want to do any smiting. Gabriel knew that, he, after all, was the one who promoted him because of his military tactics.
“Well, out you get.” Gabriel all but pushed him through the door and shut it, with more force than was necessary. Aziraphale jumped at the sound and then stopped to take in his surroundings. Vast desert covering a blank landscape was all he could see. ‘Well’ he thought, ‘May as well try to make the best of this.’
That is why Aziraphale was the only Principality with two sets of wings. Now, that does explain the amount of wings but, it doesn’t provide answers for why his wings were out in the first place. To be blunt, they were itching. This happened sometimes, every few decades or so. Angels are virtuous and therefore do not partake in Pride, so they only preen their wings when necessary. While Aziraphale didn’t often partake in wing grooming, it wasn’t to abstain from sin like the other angels. It was more that he didn’t much care and that often, when he did sit down to clean his wings he would find a good book that he hadn’t read recently. Getting again wrapped up in the plot, he would forget the Itch that came with poorly groomed wings. But now, the Itch wasn’t able to be ignored for much longer. He had already gone about the standard grooming procedure. He used his handcrafted dowel, which was white and had his sigil etched into the base, to unclump the power down. He started at his Alulas, which were his preferred place to start. He had three which were sharp, attesting to his former rank. Carefully preening the sharp feathers he then moved on to his coverts, then primates, secondaries, and finally his scapulars. Carfulling, pulling, tucking, and nipping wherever necessary. But they still Itched, he gave it another go. This time tugging, moving, and fixing his feathers. He felt marginally better but, there was still that Itch. That's why Aziraphale was sitting in his chair, with three cups of cocoa next to him. The last one, which had finally gone cold. His book was over, he was no longer distracted, the Itch was still there.
He couldn’t quite place the source of discomfort. It was somewhere around the middle of his wing, a large spot which oozed irritation like warm molasses. So, Aziraphale resorted to celestial measures, he opened his many eyes. And using one said eye, he could see two coverts twisted, and clumped together in a place that he couldn’t reach. Right as he was about to give up, and in an attempt to ignore the Itch go back to reading, the bell above the door rang. It was around 8pm so, slightly unusual but nothing he couldn’t handle. He tried to pull his wings back in but the Itch wouldn’t let him so instead, he shouted.
“We are most definitely closed.”
“Angel!” Crowley yelled in a way that tried to sound neutral but ended up being terribly fond. For no particular reason he had forgone his typical outfit and was instead wearing a black turtleneck, a cropped leather jacket, terribly skinny black jeans, and what were presumably snake skin boots. “Wha- where are you?”
“I’m towards the back, to the left, behind the astronomy books” Aziraphale replied, he tried to keep the pained sound out of his voice. He didn’t quite succeed.
“Are you ok? You sound like, ya know, when you’re, I don’t know. What’s going on?” Crowley started the sentence out strong but it slowly became a murmur. Aziraphale could hear him getting closer.
“Tickety-boo, dearest!” Aziraphale replied.
“Wher-, oh! There you are. Why are you all the way back here, an-” He would have finished the thought, if it didn’t end in a sputtering mess with his hand over his eyes.
“Angel!” Crowley squeaked. He would later say that it was most definitely not a squeak but, a completely rational tone for what he saw before him. “Your, your wings are out. ‘Could have at least warned me so I didn’t go all walking in on you.”
“Oh my dear demon, don’t go overreacting, they’re only wings.” Aziraphale said in a tone of a parent trying to tell their child that ‘No, you can’t see your friends until your homework is done. Yes, I’ve thought about it. No, I’m not changing my mind.’
“Only wings. Ha! Only wings, Aziraphale, angel one does not go walking about with their celestial body parts just splayed about!.” said Crowley with both great uncomfort and amusement as his hands waved in the air, still avoiding looking at Aziraphale.
“Oh dear, you make it sound so vulgar but, if you’re not comfortable I could always put them away.” responded Aziraphale “But, I do seem to have two coverts twisted that I can’t quite reach. If you could, do you think you would be amiable to fixing them for me?” He sounded cautious.
“Um, er, yeah I guess. If you want to.” Said Crowley, slowly as if he couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. He couldn’t.
“Thank you Crowley, it’s much obliged.” Aziraphale smiled as he said that. He snapped and a backless stool replaced his previous chair. Dragging it to the center of the small corner, so that he had enough room to sit, for his wings to stretch out, and for Crowley to be behind him.
“So I’ll just, yeah, I’ll just stand behind you here and get started” said Crowley, he continued “do you have your dowel? I mean I could also miracle mine but I wouldn’t want to presume.”
“I have mine, don't go fretting yourself away.” Aziraphale replied. As he did, twisting to his side to grab the dowel off the table. Careful not to knock over a cup of cocoa, he picked it up and handed it to Crowley.
Crowley stared at it for a moment before looking up and making eye contact with Aziraphale before quickly looking back down. “Are you sure?” He said in a soft voice
“I am, my love.” Aziraphale said, smiling.
Crowley slowly walked behind him, Aziraphale still facing front. He used the dowel to slowly begin loosening the power down. He worked methodically around the twisted feathers, which were no longer together but still bent out of shape. Moving on to using his long and slender fingers instead, he started smoothing them down.
Aziraphale signed in relief “Thank you Crowley, it really has been bothering me.”
“No problem, angel. Happy to do it.” Crowley said, still using the same small voice. He finished working his way through the area until he was done, one feather plucked, one feather pressed back into formation.
“Oh dear, I do very much wish that I am not overstepping boundaries but, would you like me to preen your wings, dearest?” Aziraphale said it in such a hopeful manner that it almost surprised Crowley more by the way that he said it then what he was saying.
After sputtering for a few moments, Crowley said, “Yeah angel, that would be great.” Aziraphale sat up from the chair and brushed himself off. He straightened his waistcoat and bow tie before miracling the power down away. Then he gestured towards the seat, indicating for Crowley to sit where he was moments before.
Every angel has unique wings and depending on your rank the more you have. Those in the highest sphere have three sets, Cherubims, Dominans, and Virtues in the middle sphere have two sets, and those in the lowest sphere have one. Within the spheres there are also differences found in wings. Those highest within their respective sphere will have three sharp alulas and those who rank the lowest will have one. That is why Aziraphale has the wings he does and it's why Crowley has one set of wings with two sharp alulas, he was a Power before he fell. What is not commonly known about angels is that their wings are all different colors. Each bird has a wing pattern based on an angel. Now, the bird they are based on doesn’t necessarily reflect anything about their respective angel nor the shape of their wings. But, the color of the wing does tend to reflect some on the angel. Aziraphale’s wings are much broader than Crowley’s, meant for fighting. They match those of a Major Mitchell’s Cockatoo, also known as a Pink Cockatoo. Crowley’s job was to build the stars and therefore his wings are thin and slender, meant for weaving and diving between celestial bodies. His are the same color as the Plumbeous Water Redstart. Crowley sat down on the stool and released them.
Aziraphale gasped. Crowley’s feathers were dark blue, with dark orange feathers at the tips. They were well oiled and clearly taken care of. They were quite simply, the most gorgeous wings he had ever seen.
Crowley was put off by Aziraphale’s gasp “Is something the matter? I can put them back in if you want to stop.”
Aziraphale rushed in to correct him “Nothing is the matter. It’s just that, quite frankly I've never seen more beautiful wings, my dear.”
Crowley blushed. His cheeks turned as red as turnips, the color spreading to his ears until his face matched his hair. “‘M a demon, ‘m not beautiful, I’m scary.” His heart clearly not in it.
Aziraphale giggled, “Oh, quite. You are a beautifully scary demon.” He paused for a moment. “Would you like to use your dowel instead of mine? I know that using someone else’s can be terribly uncomfortable, dearest.”
Crowley turned to look at him “Yeah, sure.” With the snap of his fingers and a pop of occult energy, he summoned his dowel. It was black with little cartoon snakes etched into it. The snakes reminded Aziraphale of cave painting in a way that could only be charming. Crowley handed the dowel to him, took off his sunglasses and gave a little smile. Aziraphale smiled a close mouthed smile back that reached the corner of his eyes, crinkling ever so slightly.
“Where would you like me to begin?” Asked Aziraphale.
“Primaries, secondaries, coverts, scapulars, and then alulas. Thanks, angel.” Crowley replied. With that, Aziraphale began. He started at the primaries just like Crowley said. Straightening out the already straight feathers and pulling out a few loose ones. Crowley had relaxed into Aziraphale’s touch, closing his eyes contentally. Aziraphale continued in the order that Crowley had prescribed, removing power down and tucking where need be.
Aziraphale smoothed out the final feathers and said, in a quick manner “I’m done, my dear.”
Crowley’s only response was a hum. “Mm, thanks.” Crowley had fallen asleep at some point during the grooming and was only now emerging from the pleasant nothingness.
“It’s alright Crowley, you can go back to sleep. I’ll carry you to bed so you can be comfortable, what do you say?” Aziraphale said.
Crowley replied, drowsy with sleep “M’kay”
Aziraphale carefully folded Crowley’s wings down and then scooped him up into a bridal carry. Holding his darling demon, Aziraphale experterly moved through his bookshop, winding around until he reached the stairs. From there he climbed them, slowly, careful not to wake up Crowley. The third stair from the top always creaked so he skipped it, taking a large step directly to the stair second from the top. Aziraphale looked down, Crowley had a content smile on his face. It always made him happy to see Crowley happy. Crowley often smiled at things that Aziraphale smiled at. He carefully pushed open his door, taking extra care not to make any noise. Placing Crowley on their bed, and covering him in a blanket making sure to avoid his wings. Aziraphale joined him and used one pair of wings to wrap himself, and the other to wrap Crowley.
“Good night, my love. I shall see you in the morning.” Aziraphale whispered, both of them quietly content.