Chapter Text
Somewhere in Eastern Europe, in a clearing in the middle of an evergreen forest known by the locals by no particular name, there was a lake. Not a particularly large or striking lake, but one that was nonetheless infamous in its region. At first glance, its shimmering surface would give no indication of anything sinister lurking below. Its pale green shallows, littered with dark pebbles sparkling intriguingly, quickly gave way to deeper water, which darkened first to a deep blue-green and then nearly to black. Most of the shore was impassible, made up of dark cliffs and boulders slick with water and moss, but in one place the land sloped down to meet the water, forming a small pebble beach framed by tall rushes. Dark pines rose all around, the sky a distant slash of blue above the emerald boughs. It was quiet, the only sounds the gurgling of the brook that fed the lake and the faint rustle of wind in the trees.
Aziraphale had traveled a long way. He was nearly home now, but the heat of the early-summer day and the exhaustion from his long walk called him toward the water.
He’d been warned, of course. Everyone in the village knew the story of the rusalka, the vengeful creature that lived in the lake, luring anyone who dared set foot in the water into the depths and to their deaths. It was told in whispers before fireplaces to wide-eyed children, passed around by adults as a means of enforcing obedience, and invoked whenever the forest shifted and the dark grew too close. Had he been careful, Aziraphale’s path would never have taken him past the lake. But he was a curious man, the kind to question fables and ghost stories, and after a long day on the dusty road, he saw no reason not to stop.
So it was, then, that when he came to the shore of the lake, he left his travel-worn boots in the grass and dipped his feet into its cool waters.
~~~
Crowley was skulking between two boulders in a deep part of the lake when, out of nowhere, he felt something change. It was a shift, a disturbance in the part of his mind which maintained a constant awareness of every corner of his lake. At that moment, it was telling him that something had entered the water. Something human.
Curious, he swam towards the source of the disturbance on the west side of the lake, carefully drifting up to the surface to come to rest safely hidden in the rushes. It was not often that humans entered his lake, not anymore, at least. They had woven tales about him, about his kind, and those tales had turned them wary. He didn’t mind the reputation. After all, it was his job to kill people. It just happened that those stories resulted in a significantly more lonely existence. But now, he was being given a rare chance to prove himself. Silently, he pushed aside a section of the stalks to catch a glimpse of the human who had breached his territory.
There, standing in the shallows in a beam of light, was the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes upon. His white-blond curls glowed in a halo around his face, his perfect face, set with two sparkling eyes like two stars. Dressed in whites and creams, he stood in sharp contrast to the dark pebbles of the shore and wood of the forest, as if a pristine, white dove had alighted on Crowley’s lake.
Upon seeing him, Crowley had forgotten himself and allowed a small gasp of surprise to pass his lips. Immediately, he clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The human turned his head toward the sound, and for a single, heavenly moment, his eyes met Crowley’s and they stared at each other.
It took only a second for Crowley to realize what he was doing. Abruptly, he let go of the rushes he had pushed aside, the stems rustling back into place, and dove underwater to escape the burning gaze of the strange human. Muffled by the water, he could hear the human speak, a distant, confused hello?, but his panicked mind had no time to process it. Water rushed past him as he fled to a better hiding place, a crag in the cliffs on the far end of the lake.
Now sure of his safety, he peered out of his shelter to stare at the human.
“Is somebody there?” he heard him call, the words carrying across the water. After a moment, he seemed to give up his search and retreated from the water, gathering his boots from the shore. He looked back once more, his eyes roving across the water, but finding nothing, he turned and quickly disappearing into the wood.
The sudden absence of a human in the lake sent a chill through Crowley, steadying his fluttering heart and allowing reality to come crashing back.
It came back with dread. No, Crowley thought. No! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Crowley was meant to tempt him closer, not let him walk away. He was supposed to kill him, to drag him beneath the water and hold him down until he went limp, to let his lifeless body float facedown on the surface of the lake until eventually his family came searching for him and wept at his tragic demise, not let him continue to live.
It had all gone awry. Frankly, it would be terrible for his reputation, not only among the humans but with his own kind. Beautiful people had come to the lake before, breathtakingly radiant people, and Crowley had killed them. Actually, that wasn’t quite true. He’d not murdered many people in his life. After the first dozen times, he’d gotten sick of it.
But that wasn’t the point. Getting distracted by a potential victim’s, albeit angelic, beauty was unforgivable. If he was lucky, the man would come back and Crowley could finish the job.
The sun was beginning to set. The pines cast their long shadows across the lake, and despite the heat of the afternoon, Crowley shivered as the light breeze brushed across his skin. With a sigh, he sank down to the bottom of the lake, draping himself across the sharp rocks, disappointingly bare of human blood.
He wallowed in his dissatisfaction for a long while, until sleep took over, and he dreamt of doves and piercing blue eyes.