I'm seeing some confusion out and about over the title A Companion to Owls (generally along the lines of 'what have owls got to do with it???'), so I'd like to offer my interpretation (with a general disclaimer that the Bible and particularly the Old Testament are damn complicated and I'm not able to address every nuance in a fandom tumblr post, okay? Okay):
It's a phrase taken from the Book of Job. Here's the quote in full (King James version):
When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls.
--(Job 30:29)
Job is describing the depths of his grief, but also, with that last line, his position in the web of providence.
Throughout the Old Testament, owls are a recurring symbol of spiritual devastation. Deuteronomy 4:17 - Isaiah 34:11 - Psalm 102: 3 - Jeremiah 50: 39...just to name a few (there's more). The general shape of the metaphor is this: owls are solitary, night-stalking creatures, that let out either mournful cries or terrible shrieks, that inhabit the desolate places of the world...and (this is important) they are unclean.
They represent a despair that is to be shunned, not pitied, because their condition is self-inflicted. You defied God (so the owl signifies), and your punishment is...separation. From God, from others, from the world itself. To call and call and never, ever receive an answer.
Your punishment is terrible, tormenting loneliness.
(and that exact phrase, "tormenting loneliness," doesn't come from me...I'm pulling it from actual debate/academia on this exact topic. The owls, and what they are an omen for. Oof.)
To call yourself a 'companion to owls,' then, is to count yourself alongside perhaps the most tragic of the damned --not the ones who defy God out of wickedness or ignorance, and in exile take up diabolical ends readily enough...but the ones who know enough to mourn what they have lost.
So, that's how the title relates to Job: directly. Of course, all that is just context. The titular "companion to owls," in this case, isn't Job at all.
Because this story is about Aziraphale.
The thing is that Job never actually defied God at all, but Aziraphale does, and he does so fully believing that he will fall.
He does so fully believing that he's giving in to a temptation.
He's wrong about that, but still...he's realized something terrifying. Which is that doing God's will and doing what's right are sometimes mutually exclusive. Even more terrifying: it turns out that, given the choice between the two...he chooses what's right.
And he's seemingly the only angel who does. He's seemingly the only angel who can even see what's wrong.
Fallen or not, that's the kind of knowledge that...separates you.
(Whoooo-eeeeee, tormenting loneliness!!!)
Aziraphale is the companion.
...I don't think I need to wax poetic about Aziraphale's loneliness and grappling with devotion --I think we all, like, get it, and other people have likely said it better anyway. So, one last thing before I stop rambling:
Check out Crowley's glasses.
(screenshots from @seedsofwinter)
Crowley is the owl.
Crowley is the goddamn owl.
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Dust in his eye
So in Gale’s romance, if Tav chooses the dialogue option to end the relationship, part of Gale’s heartbreaking response is this line as he visibly tears up and walks away: “You’ve actually caught me at an inopportune time. Blasted…dust in my eye. Excuse me…”
…which makes it even more heartbreaking, because it’s such an obvious lie. He’s trying to save face because he’s devastated and embarrassed, and that’s the best excuse he can come up with in the moment.
Even though Gale is one of the most emotionally open and honest characters when it comes to his feelings for Tav—sometimes going so far as to be EXCESSIVELY honest—his embarrassment and his sense of decorum make crying in front of Tav a step too far for him, so he hastily makes an excuse and hurries away.
But putting that scene aside (because I truly cannot fathom how anyone’s heart could handle breaking up with Gale), it actually got me thinking about him getting teary from happiness instead, and again, due to his sense of pride/decorum/what-have-you, trying to cover it up by saying he’s got ‘dust in his eye’—no matter how ridiculous that statement is.
And you just know that he’s the type to get teary/choked up when he’s happy. The man is so damn passionate and he loves Tav SO much. Once he and Tav are together in Waterdeep, with the weight of the world lifted from both of their shoulders, you cannot tell me his eyes won’t be wet half the time.
Just picture:
Gale and Tav strolling through Waterdeep for the first time together, arms linked, Gale gazing at Tav’s beloved face. For a moment he’s so overwhelmed he noticeably tears up: “Forgive me, love. Just some dust in my eye.” (…as they walk through the rain, with everything around them soaking wet.)
Gale cooking, giving Tav the dinner date he’d promised. He’s watching from the kitchen as Tav and Tara are talking and getting along swimmingly. Tav looks up with a smile and meets his blurry gaze, and he hastily turns away to dab at his eyes with his apron: “Apologies, I seem to have gotten dust in my eye…” (…as he stands in a kitchen full of steam.)
Tav held fast in Gale’s arms, head resting on the wizard’s chest, fully relaxed, slowly drifting in and out of sleep. Gale’s reverently running his fingers through Tav’s hair, over their face, and along the scars picked up from their many battles. When Tav suddenly wakes, blinking as they try to focus on Gale’s face, he quickly swipes the back of his hand over his eyes: “A moment, love—dust in my eye…” (…as they are both soaking in the bath.)
Gale and Tav clasping hands as the cleric’s speech gets close to the point in the ceremony where they will officially be wed.
Gale’s managed to hold it together through his lengthy (and very descriptive) vows, but now he’s got tears not just glistening in his eyes, but actively brimming and spilling over; his lower lip is trembling. Tav smiles, squeezing his hands, leaning in close. “I know it’s just dust in your eye,” Tav whispers lovingly, wanting to spare him any embarrassment. (…and for once, given their location, it IS possible.) But Gale shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs, gazing joyfully at Tav through his completely blurred vision. “Not this time.”
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