Chapter Text
Prologue
The night He was born, the North Star shone bright. Bright enough to guide men to His mothers bedside, to bring angels to watch over His parents. Bright enough to bless the strangely silent baby being cradled in Mary’s shaking arms.
Mary had not believed the Angel Gabriel when he had appeared before her and told her in a tone meant to make her feel honored that she was to be with child. She had wept after the angel had left, truly letting herself go for the first and only time. To think that she was to be grateful to God. She had not yet married, not yet left home, not yet been intimate or even thought of who she would share that with. And now to be asked to bear a child at thirteen, with no earthly father and no say in a decision that would change anyone’s life. When she told her parents in a hushed whisper, they rejoiced and spilled wine on the floors. Later, her mother held her as she cried silent tears, hushing her and telling her that it would have happened sometime, that she should be happy that it was by the will of God and not a man on the cobbled streets outside.
As the week passed, a man came knocking on their door. He said his name was Joseph, that an angel had spoken to him, told him to find Mary, who’s belly was growing unprecedentedly quickly, and to take her away from Jeruselum and her home. He said that the angel told you to return to the promised land with Mary and their baby. Their baby. Joseph was kind, when they married, it was out of necessity and not love, but still, he cared for Mary; letting her ride on the old mule he had brought with him, letting her sleep into the morning, feeding her healthy food while taking the morsels for himself. He told Mary he was a carpenter, and that he never had the time to pray before now. He told her small things like how he had always loved the dawn, or that the burning smell of pine wood was his favorite thing. Mary didn’t tell him anything useful, she barely spoke at all, her stomach was swelling more every day and she would get sick often, leaving no time for her to speak. On the second night of their journey, Mary had turned to Joseph who had been watching the coals of their fire burn low. She had looked at him and uttered her first words to him. She asked him to tell her a story. And so he did. His voice was not smooth or song-like, it had been rough and deep, coarse in Mary’s ears. He told her about his childhood, about his mother and how he had not known his father, he told her about growing up and his childhood. How it had been cut short by poverty and his mothers death. He spoke of kinship and love, and how he found himself in small ways. He spoke until Mary’s eyes fluttered shut, her hand still on her stomach and her other arm under her head.
Mary had already gone into labor when they reached Bethlehem. It was late and the stars shown in the desert sky. They begged anyone to take them in, being turned away at the inns and hostels. Finally, being admitted to the lower floor of Joseph’s great uncles hut. They shared the cold room with the animals, sheep and donkeys covered in hay gathered around Mary as she cried out into the night. The baby came easily, not causing much strife. And as Mary held him and a faint ethereal glow twinkled outside the room, Joseph kissed her head and she smiled at her little boy, the son of God.
Then they returned to Mary’s home, except it was no longer hers. She had her own home and her own husband and her own baby, whom she tended to and fed, and loved very deeply. However, just as Joseph had seen, darkness came again, and again they fled, leaving Jerusalem and hiding in Nazareth. This is where they stayed, and this is where they made a life.
Jesus grew in time, becoming healthy and strong. He grew with his siblings, sons and daughters of Joseph from before Mary. Joseph taught him his trade and together Mary and him tutored Jesus on God’s scriptures, returning to Jerusalem for Passover every year. They were happy.
As he grew, he knew he was different from the neighborhood boys. They would tease him and laugh at his interest in school and learning, when he would help his father in his shop, his brothers would look at him and snear as he plained wood. But Jesus learned to ignore them, to forgive them. He found comfort in the word of God, who would whisper things in his ears when he prayed.
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It had been the first of Nisan when Mary, Jesus, Joseph and the rest of the children began the journey back to Jerusalem for Passover. This was the year Jesus was to become a man, his twelfth year of life being blessed by God with good fortune and prosperity. While the journey to Jerusalum was long, it took only three days this year, allowing the family to revel in the festivities two days earlier than expected.
The days passed and the boys would play out in the dusty streets, waving flags and ribbons at anyone who passed by. Jesus would stay inside with his two younger sisters, helping Mary prepare foods and mending clothes, preparing for the fifteenth. Joseph disliked when Jesus stayed inside instead of playing with his brothers. He knew Jesus was more of an intellectual boy than his sons, but sometimes he worried that Jesus lacked the boyish charm of childhood. He had discussed this with Mary, saying he was worried that he might be falling behind, but Mary waved her hand in disagreement.
“It is all in God's plan.” And they left it at that.
Now, Joseph tried tirelessly to coerce Jesus to go outside, to roam the streets and leave the work to the woman. After a timid glance at his mother, he obeyed and put down the vest he had been mending. He left his grandfather's house that they had been given upon his death, went out into the road and began to roam. He did not come back for supper, or for night. And he did not come back the next day either, or the next.
Mary was not pleased. She was in fact distraught, glaring at Joseph at meal times and turning her back to him in their bed. On the sixth day of him missing, she insisted they search for him. Reluctantly, Joseph agreed, rounding up the rest of the children and dispersing them again with the task of finding Jesus. All Joseph wanted was to have an independent boy, someone who didn’t need his ever so often mothers coddling. He believed that the solution to this was to leave Jesus alone in the world, just for now, let him find his way back to their house on his own. Let him live like a man in the world for just a few days and see what it does to him. Mary disagreed.
They searched for days, unable to find him in the grand city, until finally, Mary and Joseph found themselves in the steps of the Temple. The doors opened for them and as if by some miracle, there sat their boy, surrounded by the wise old men. He was smiling and laughing, animatedly speaking to what appeared to be his peers. The men leaned into every word he was saying, listening carefully to his words and answering his questions. When Jesus saw his parents, his eyes lit up, a grin creeping onto his face as he got up and ran to his mother, embracing her as she cried tears of joy.
“Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” Jesus asked as they made their way back through the winding streets. Mary shushed Him, never before had He referred to His Father so blatantly, so carelessly. Joseph looked away from them, and Mary squeezed His hand tighter.
This was when He had first suspected he was the Son of God, but didn’t dare ask his mother or father about it. Their reactions in the street had been painful enough and He did not wish to reintroduce old wounds if that was what it was. So, Jesus lived with this inckling for many years, leaving home and making himself a life out of carpentry. Then, God spoke to Him. They told Jesus that He was to be the Messiah, to seek out John and truly become the Son of God. And so He did, He became what God wanted Him to be.
Chapter 1
Judas was a good Jew. He listened to his rabbi, he had a wife and children who obeyed and respected him and he in turn respected God's will. He prayed, and his wife prayed, and his children prayed, and in turn, he was happy and his family was well off. He had never heard of the Son of God until he was standing in front of him. He was a lean man, with long thin hair that fell over His eyes and stopped at His broad shoulders. His smile was wide and commanding, like there was something more behind His freckled cheeks and twinkling brown eyes. Eleven other men stood behind Him, noticeably more worn and exhausted than the man that stood barefoot in front of Judas. He recognized John the Baptist, standing with as much significance as he could behind the Son of God. Judas had once followed John, seen the good in him and wanted to learn. Among the other men, he recognized none, all of them looking at the tall man in front of him with both kinship and awe. Jesus reached out His hand to Judas, who had been kneeling in his field planting. His hands were dirty and rough and as he grasped Jesus’ he recognized the strong hands of work and toil, the hands of a man who had seen labor, but now it stood forgotten and something of the past. He stood as the man pulled him up, then grinned even wider as Judas’ face showed bewilderment.
“Judas Iscariot, you have been chosen by the will of my Father to join me and my disciples. Join me and spread the teachings of the Lord. Join me and prosper, if you wish.” His voice was light and airy, carrying nothing but light on it.
“I have a family, children, a life. Why does God wish for me to abandon them?” Judas still didn’t even know this man’s name, any of these men’s names, save John. But now it was Jesus’ turn to look bewildered, never had the other nine men He gathered asked such a question, or any questions regarding why they had been chosen. They had accepted the word of God, and of Himself, and willingly abided.
“Because you are a learned man, Judas, and a good Jew. The Lord sees promise in you. He believes the world will benefit if you decide to join Him and His mission.” Judas had always obeyed the word of God, he and his wife tried terribly to, or they knew of the consequences, especially for people who have done sinful things.
“May I ask my rabbi first, or must I blindly follow?”
“You may ask, but we shall only be in Kerioth for two days, then we return to Galilee for one final time.” Jesus bowed His head in a nod before waiting for a response.
“Thank you, I shall find you when I have made my decision.” With that Jesus turned and began to walk away across the field. All His disciples followed, but John stayed behind, rushing quickly to Judas.
“Judas, why must you refuse so? He is Jesus, Son of God. What He says you must follow for He speaks only the truth. Trust me and join us, He is a thoughtful man and an even more trusted rabbi, now please.” John was hushed and reserved saying these things. Almost secretive.
“John, you mustn’t tell me you were approached by this strange man and asked to leave your post and home and simply agreed to it? I shall not leave without at least conversing with my wife, telling my children that I am to leave.”
“Judas, I was the one who baptized Him, who felt God's presence in my heart and heard Their voice in my head telling me He was a child of God.” There was silence for a moment.
“Now please, come with us.” Judas paused. He knew John was an intellect, that he was a good man whom he himself had followed once.
“Tell me where you are staying? I must tell my family I am leaving.” Judas knew he wasn’t allowed to say no. Saying no would thwart the will of God even more that Judas had already, for his family's sake, he couldn’t do that.
“We do not know where we will stay, we follow Him and He finds houses or hostels for us to spend the night. He trusts the kindness of good people to let us stay with them. You must find us.” And quickly, John walked away in the direction of Jesus and the rest, leaving Judas in his field, his basket of crop turned over and spilling the contents onto the ground. He watched as John went, and as the group of them disappeared into the sunset, he turned and walked back to his house, leaving his baskets for later.
Judas was swift and made it to the cobbled streets outside his house quickly. It was a cool summer evening now rapidly turning into dusk and soon night. He could hear the neighbors' kids laughing and shrieking and the low rumble of conversation wandered over from a small group of women standing a little ways down. The sky was a brilliant pink with orange clouds gracing the horizon, bleeding into the dark royal blue of the night sky. He slowly entered his home, the warm light from inside spilling out into the road. His daughters were sitting in the kitchen, helping his wife prepare food. The scent of rosemary and thyme filled the house.
“Hello.” He stood in the doorway, holding his hat in his hands and a look of obvious worry crossed his face. The woman looked up from their work and each one smiled.
“Father, you're home!” She put down her work and rushed over to him, embracing him.
“Now daughters, I must speak to your mother alone, please, go play.” They left, scurrying out of the kitchen laughing together. Judas had not taken his eyes of his wife.
“Judas - what is it.” She had put down the pot, leaving it to boil over the fire. Judas did not answer, he stood looking at her, not knowing what else to say.
“What have you done.” Her eyes grew wide with fear and remorse, they had tried so hard to stay true to God. She had done so well, but what had Judas done? Worked and slept and ate, sure he prayed and talked to their rabbi, but it wasn’t enough. She knew it wasn’t enough and now God's wrath was finally here.
“Nothing, I have done nothing.” Judas broke his bought if silence as he took a step towards his wife.
“I have been asked…” he faltered “asked to leave. To spread the word of God along with my fellow men and a rabbi named Jesus. John the Baptist claims He is the Son of God.” By now he was standing in front of her, his hand reaching up and brushing her chin. Tears looking in both their eyes.
“And he - He means no harm?” Her voice cracks out of both relief and doubt.
“No, no. I don’t think He does.” Judas lowers his head and closes his eyes, the corners of his mouth turn up in a slight smile. “I don’t think He could mean harm if he wanted to.”
“Well then, when do you leave?”
“You want me to?”
“Of course I don’t want you to. But you must. You and I both know that you must.”
“Yes. Yes. Of course.” Judas wraps his arms around her. Drawing her in close and kissing the top of her head before breathing in deeply, smelling the fires smoke in her hair. He can feel her tears on his chest and hold his own in. They aren’t tears of sadness or of loss, if anything they are tears of fear. Or are they tears of relief.
“I have to go now, they leave tomorrow.” Judas breaks the hug, but keeps his hands on her shoulders.
“You will not spend one more night with us?”
“No, I have to go as soon as possible.”
“Will you not even tell the children?” They’re voices have turned to a hush of words. The sound barely above a whisper.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t bear to see the look they would give me.”
“What am I to tell them then?” She kisses his hands.
“Tell them their father is following God.” And he kissed her for the last time. Her soft lips caressing his with the sweetness of tears.
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It was late when Judas finally found the inn that the disciples were staying at. The moon had already risen, casting a luminous glow across the small village. The stars twinkled in the night's blue sky and everything was silent. Almost everything. There was a large hubbub of racket coming from one particular inn. Judas did not frequent taverns and therefore did not know the owners of the shop. As he peeked in through the open door, he saw the man who he now knew was Jesus. He was sitting on the floor cross legged and around Him sat a gaggle of small children, the rest of the men sat at a table and a few stood to the sides of the large room. Jesus seemed to be telling the children a story, He was waving His arms around and speaking in strange accents. The children were leaning in quizzically, giving Him every ounce of their attention and dedication. Judas stepped inside the yellow lit tavern cautiously, unsure if he would still be welcome after his questioning in the field. John was the first to notice and recognize him from before, and quickly beconned Judas over to where he and two other men sat.
“Judas! I am glad you found us easily.” John said as Judas sat on the bench next to him.
“My friends, this is Judas. Judas, Andrew and Peter.” John gestures to the two other men at the table. They looked fairly similar, two burley men with impressively long beards, something that Judas and his own close shaven face was jealous of.
“Welcome! We are glad you could join us. It is always so impressive seeing Him speak to others about God's law.” Peter spoke first, chipper and warm.
“Yes, we’ll who am I to go against God's words?” An air of sarcasm hinted in Judas’ words. He had not been convinced by Jesus, but my John. Did they not see how he had held back to talk to Judas?
“Why, you are an apostle of course!” Andrew this time, lifting his glass of wine. The three other men followed suit, lifting their glasses and drinking deeply.
That is when an enormous laugh broke the soft mutters of the tables. It was Jesus, his head thrown back and his curly hair cascading down his back.
“Why my child, I follow God because They are rich with life.” He was talking to one of the children, surely answering her question. “Because They are kind and loving and forgiving, They can fill you with beauty. Teach you how to love, and how to hate, and how to worship the world that we are in because of Them.” He spoke with passion in His voice and in His heart. The entirety of the inn held onto every word He said. It was as if they were being drawn in by some sort of magic charm, but no, it was just Him. “Child, I am like you. Merely a wanderer, someone who wants to see the good in others, who wants others to see the goodness in everyone. That is what God intended, and somehow, people have forgotten. That is why I am here, to remind people of their greatness and vastness and immensity.” He chuckled again. “I believe that answered your question, my child. Is there anything else you wish to know?” He held the child’s hands in His, and bent down to look at her in the eyes. His dark rough skin perfectly contrasted her pale face and blue eyes, both twinkling in the candlelit room.
“No, sir. Thank you.” The child’s voice was hushed and soft.
“Sir? I am nothing of the sort!” His voice was nothing but hushed, it was loud and extravagant, like He had to tell the world of it. “Now, I don’t think your mothers would favor me if I kept you up any more. Off to bed with you!” And He scooped up the young girl and set her on her feet. The others followed, scrambling up and rushing upstairs, whispering and giggling to each other.
Then He stood and turned to Judas, His smile faded slightly, but still dwindling at the corners of his mouth.
“Judas.” He offered Judas’ name like it was something delicate that He only dared touch briefly. “I am glad you could join us, even if it is so late into the night when you did.” He strode up to the table they were sitting and pulled up a rickety stool next to Judas.
“Come, the rest of you. Gather around us, please.” The rest of the apostles obediently responded, shuffling over to hear what He was going to say. “Now everyone please, let us introduce ourselves, we must make our friend feel welcomed.” Jesus once again took Judas’ hands in his own, looking at him serenely. “You are now one of my apostles, one of my disciples. I am honored that you have chosen to join me in my cause, my journey. I have been chosen, by God Herself, to lead all of us.” At this point he turned to everyone, breaking eye contact, but still holding on to Judas’ hands. “I am the Messiah, born as the Heavenly Fathers son. I wish to share Her message with everyone, and I need your help. So I thank everyone here for listening and following me. Thank you.” That is when He let go of Judas’ hands, leaving them cold. Around the table they went, Andrew, Simon who was called Peter, James if Zebedee, John, Phillip and Bartholemew, Thomas, Mathew, James son of Alpheus, Thaddeus, Simon, and finally, Judas Iscariot, the last and final of the twelve apostles.
“Now, my friends, let us learn and teach and rejoice! Our new companion must have a warm welcome, shall we?” They all raised their glasses in agreement, letting the wine wash down their throats and burn in their stomachs. The rest of the night they listened to Jesus and discussed His lessons, they drank and they sang as the night became further and further gone, until finally one by one they retired to the floor, or fled upstairs to an empty bed.
Slowly the crowd dwindled down so there were only three left: Peter, Jesus, and of course, Judas.
“Well now, I’m afraid if I stay up any longer, I shall sleep with my nose in my wine. I wish you gentleman a goodnight.” Peter stood up, wobbling a bit before teetering up the stairs.
There was silence between the two, nothing but the buzzing night air filled the space. The candle had almost burnt down, and Jesus was observing it intently, almost not paying Judas any attention. They went on in silence, simply sitting with each other, untill finally, Judas stood.
“Well, I suppose I-“
“Sit.” It was curt and strangely commanding for Jesus. He took His eyes of the candle and fixed them on Judas instead. “Please.” He was back to His usually cool tone, unbothered. Judas cautiously sat back down, waiting for whatever He had to say.
“Judas, this entire night I have been wondering something. It is quite simple really, but only a question that you can answer truthfully, and perhaps with wisdom.” He paused, then “why did you decide to join me?” Then He waited patiently, running His finger over the rim of His glass, a hushed ringing following the movement.
“I didn’t really have a choice in the matter did I? In the end I mean.” Jesus chuckled at Judas’ response.
“No, I suppose you didn’t.” Another beat. “How is your family? Your wife? Your children? Your parents?”
“My wife is well, upset that I must leave them, but grateful to God. I left before my children knew, I’m afraid I couldn’t bear to tell them that their father was leaving, they are still young. Sometimes I wish I had such life that they do when I was younger, but alas.” Judas didn’t know why he was offering up this information so willingly. He was typically a reserved man, letting little people hear of his personal life, but here he was, letting Jesus know of his wife and kids. However, he kept going: “And as for my parents. Let’s see, my father died when I had just turned a man. Slaughtered by burglars in a raid. He had tried to stop them, but got caught in the crossfire. My mother fell into depression, and unfortunately ran away later that same year. I had to raise my siblings myself, still don’t know where she went.” He stopped abruptly, covering his mouth, eyes wide. He looked at Jesus, who still sat there smiling.
“I don’t usually tell people that. I am sorry.”
“Hmm. Well, I thank you for telling me.” Jesus chuckled and leaned in closer. “You’re a good man.” And he smiled once more then got up from his stool. “Well now, I suppose I am in a similar predicament to Peter, I shall see you in the ever fast approaching morning.” Jesus stretched His arms up over His head, scrunching up His nose, before nodding towards Judas and retiring up the stairs.
Judas stayed seated for a while, watching the candle burn down till it was just a pool of wax. He carried the reminants over to a pile of hay in the corner of the room, settling himself till he was mildly comfortable. He saw Andrew, Mathew, and a few of the other disciples scatttered throughout the floor, all sleeping deeply on the cobblestones or wherever they found themselves comfortable. He blew out the candle, letting he darkness engulf him, but he did not sleep for the rest of the night. He lay awake, waiting for morning to come, and replaying the evening over and over again, trying to understand who exactly Jesus was, because he knew He was more than what anyone thought.