Chapter Text
Aziraphale was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming, but truthfully it was less of a dream and more of a memory. Her parents and older brother were away, visiting distant cousins, and they had left Aziraphale behind to manage the farm for them. Given she was only seventeen, she left the majority of the actual managing to their housekeeper, and spent the majority of her time with Crowley. Currently they were sitting together on the floor of Aziraphale’s bedroom, leaning against the side of her bed and passing a bottle of wine they had pilfered from the cellar.
“My point is… my point is… the point I’m trying to make is… dolphins.” Crowley said with finality.
“A kind of fish?” Aziraphale giggled, confused.
“No, no, no. Dolphins are mammals.”
“Are they really?” Aziraphale hiccuped.
“Yes, something about, something about their young. The point is… oh I’ve gone and forgotten my point again.” Crowley pouted, and Aziraphale patted her on the knee.
“That’s quite alright dear, I’m sure it will come to you eventually.”
They sat in silence for a short while. Aziraphale took another drink of wine, humming and staring into the distance. She could feel Crowley’s gaze on her, loving and warm, and she basked in it.
“Angel, didn’t you have a necklace?” Crowley asked softly.
“Er…” Aziraphale hesitated and Crowley sat up in acute interest.
“You did, didn’t you? You wore it every day. For years. What happened to it?”
“Er…”
“You didn’t lose it did you? I could help you look for it—”
“I gave it away,” Aziraphale mumbled quietly.
“You what?” Crowley gasped.
“I gave it away! There was a woman in the village. Her husband had died, she was getting kicked out of her housing, and she was expecting already, so I gave her the necklace so that she could sell it and secure travel back to the village where her parents are from. Oh I do hope I didn’t do the wrong thing!”
Crowley cupped her check and they stared into each other’s eyes. “Oh Angel, I don’t think you could ever do the wrong thing.”
Just as Crowley’s lips were about to meet her own, Aziraphale awoke with a gasp. She was momentarily confused as she looked around. It was night and the air was cold. She was sitting on the deck of a boat, her hands bound. The three strangers from before were there, and it all came rushing back. She had been kidnapped by the “poor circus performers” and now she was at sea. The place where Crowley had been taken from her. She ignored the pain in her heart as she remembered with fresh hurt the loss of her lover. The dream had seemed so real, more real than any she’d had in a long time. She had almost forgotten the precise shade of gold that Crowley’s eyes held. Even now, as the dream faded and cold reality crept in, she was forgetting again.
The boat was sailing smoothly through the night. Aziraphale had no idea how long it had been since they knocked her out. The moon was high in the sky, flashing down between the clouds covering the starry sky. Aziraphale knew that it was possible to navigate via the stars, but that was always more Crowley’s expertise than hers. She had never had the same love of the stars as Crowley. They used to lie together in the field late on the nights of the new moon, and Crowley would paint the constellations in the sky. In turn, Aziraphale would recreate for them the mythological tales of their creation.
She was torn away from fond, if painful, memories by the argument between two of her captors. Her interest was piqued at the idea that someone was following them. She knew that it was unlikely that Prince Gabriel would be able to save her before the trio got around to killing her. That was… fine. Aziraphale had very little will to live anyway, and at least she would be reunited with Crowley in death. Still, she glared at the man who seemed to be the leader of the group and injected more confidence into her words than she felt.
“Despite what you think, you will be caught. And the Prince will see you hanged.”
The man scoffed. “Of all the necks on this boat, your highness, the one you should be most worried about is your own.”
The swordswoman continued to look back behind them.
“Stop doing that! Will you relax? It’s almost over.”
“You’re sure that no one is following us?” the swordswoman asked.
“Nina, I told you, it would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways, inconceivable. No one in Guilder knows what we've done. And no one in Florin could have gotten here so fast.”
Aziraphale fought the urge to roll her eyes at the man’s terrible sense of vocabulary. And then she rolled her eyes anyway, because why would she bother with propriety when she had been captured and had but hours to live?
Aziraphale watched in mild amusement as the man stopped to actually wonder why the swordswoman — Nina was so insistent. “Out of curiosity, why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Nina paused. “It’s only… I looked behind us, and there’s something there.”
“What!?” The man jumped up in shock. Her three captors looked towards the back of the boat, and Aziraphale seized her chance in their distraction and jumped into the water herself. The boat that was sailing toward them was not a distance beyond which she could not swim, and even if whoever was aboard decided that he also wanted to kill or ransom her, it could not hurt to check whether they might be friendlier.
Of course, she had not accounted for the eels. She had not ventured far from the boat when she started to hear eerie shrieks.
“Do you know what that sound is, Highness? Those are the Shrieking Eels — if you doubt me, just wait! They always grow louder when they're about to feed on human flesh!” Despite herself, terror started to pulse through Aziraphale. She stopped swimming to whip her head around in terror, beginning to simply tread water. The sea was icy, and the cold was slowing her thought process.
“If you swim back now, I promise, no harm will come to you. I doubt you will get such an offer from the Eels.” A faint part of her mind was registering the man’s words, and the lie within them, but she was frozen with fear. A shrieking eel had zeroed in on her. Aziraphale knew there was nothing she could do; she could hardly move in the freezing water, and her heart was caught in her throat as the eel opened its mouth wide and let out a horrifying shriek, its jaw ready to clamp down on her flesh.
—
“She does not get eaten at this time.” Agnes interrupted her narration to speak to Warlock directly. They looked even more pale than before, and were gripping their sheets tightly. Startled, they looked at Agnes with confusion.
“What?”
“I said the eels don’t get her. You looked nervous.” Agnes replied kindly.
“No I wasn’t.” Warlock immediately denied, though their shoulders started to relax. Agnes looked at them with an extremely dubious look, and Warlock twisted the sheets in their hand before conceding. “Well, perhaps I was a bit edgy, but that’s not the same thing.”
“Maybe I should stop for now—” Agnes began, but Warlock cut her off.
“You can, you can read a little more if you want to.” Warlock spoke a little faster than they meant to, continuing to twist the sheets in their hands. “I don’t, I don’t mind.”
Agnes looked at Warlock in a way that made Warlock feel as though she could see all the way into their soul before shrugging and picking up the book again, ready to continue.
“Do you know what that sound is, Highness? Those are the Shrieking Eels —” Agnes began.
“Nana, you already read that part.” Warlock interrupted.
“Oh my goodness, you’re right dear, forgive me. Now where was I? Hmm, she was in the water, the Eel was coming after her. She was frightened. The Eel started to charge her. And then —”
—
Suddenly the eel was knocked to the side and Aziraphale was being seized out of the water. She had not realized that the boat had been steered close enough for the giant to pull her up and out, and she sputtered as she landed on the deck.
“I think he’s getting closer.” Nina interrupted, pointing behind them.
The man began to tie Aziraphale’s hands again, and she rolled her eyes at him, though did not otherwise protest. He still had not noticed her knife, or questioned how she freed herself the first time— once they got to dry land she would easily be able to cut herself free again.
“I suppose you think you’re brave, don’t you?” The man looked at her shrewdly, and Aziraphale glared at him.
“Only compared to some.”
“Look, he’s cut our lead in half—” Nina interrupted.
“It doesn’t matter!” The man snapped. “It’s too late. Already it’s nearly dawn, and see—” the man pointed, and Aziraphale saw that they were approaching a massive set of cliffs. “We are nearly there. The Cliffs of Insanity!” There was the smallest of shores before the cliffs rose up, so high that Aziraphale could not see the top through the low cloud cover.
Still, the other boat continued to race toward them, and Aziraphale could see that they held a man dressed entirely in black, from his boots to the dark glasses and bandana that he wore.
They were off the boat and on the shore just as the man in black entered the bay. The man stared back briefly before shuffling them all towards where a rope was hanging down from the cliffs, and Aziraphale was forced into a kind of harness attached to the giant.
“We’re safe!” The man cackled as the giant began to climb. “Only Maggie is strong enough to go up our way. He’ll have to sail around for hours until he finds a harbor!”
Nevertheless the man was once again contradicted, as once the man had landed his boat, he made quick work of starting to climb the rope behind them. Aziraphale could feel her heart racing. Who was the man? Would going with him be more or less dangerous than staying with the people who had already captured her? And who was he in the first place? She was starting to get an inkling, and she did not care for what her growing suspicions were pointing towards.
When they were perhaps a third of the way to the top, Aziraphale chanced a look down and saw that the man in black was making quick progress. Her kidnappers (with the exception of Maggie, who was focused on her task) also looked down.
“Inconceivable!” the man gasped, astonished that not only was the man in black succeeding at climbing the rope, but at a speed faster than that of Maggie’s own. He poked Maggie furiously. “Faster!”
With a grunt Maggie increased her pace, though the man in black was still appearing to go faster.
“Faster!” the man cried out.
“I thought I was going faster.” Maggie protested.
“You were supposed to be this colossus! You were this great, legendary thing! And yet he gains!” the man snarled. Aziraphale privately considered this to be quite unfair, considering that Maggie was carrying three people up an impossibly tall cliffside, whereas the man in black only had himself. Nevertheless when Maggie brought this up herself, she was met only with derision.
“I do NOT accept excuses.” the man shook his head and glared at Maggie again. “I’ll just have to find a new giant that’s all.”
“Don’t say that Sandalphon, please.” Aziraphale noted that Maggie began to slow down again, and Aziraphale felt, not for the first time, that perhaps Sandalphon’s minions were not quite as loyal to him as they pretended.
Eventually the four of them reached the top, though the man in black had perhaps only twenty feet left before he also reached them. Sandalphon cackled again before racing to the rock where the rope they had been climbing was secured. Quickly he unsheathed his own knife before cutting the rope, allowing it to slack. Surely the man in black would not be able to survive such a fall. As he peered over the edge Aziraphale pondered whether this might be a good time to escape, but she was unfamiliar with the countryside, and surely would not be able to outrun three people, two of which were certainly much stronger and more practiced in fighting than her. Though that said, if she could get them on her side…
“He has very good arms,” Maggie whispered to Nina, impressed. For it was true that the man in black must be incredibly strong, as not only had he caught himself on the cliffs rather than fall, but he was actually beginning to climb up as well.
“He didn’t fall? Inconceivable!” Sandalphon ground his teeth in frustration.
“You keep using that word.” Nina turned to him, speaking in a thoughtful tone of voice. “I do not think it means what you think it means.”
Sandalphon let out another huff of frustration. “Whoever he is, he's obviously seen us with the Princess, and must therefore die.” He shoved Aziraphale into Maggie’s arm, instructing her to carry Aziraphale, while giving Nina instructions on how to dispatch the man in black. “We'll head straight for the Guilder frontier. Catch up when he's dead. If he falls, fine. If not, the sword.”
“I want to duel him left-handed.” Nina tossed out as Sandalphon turned to leave.
“You know what a hurry we are in,” Sandalphon growled.
“Well, it's the only way I can be satisfied.” Nina shrugged. “If I use my right, eh, it will be over too quickly.”
“Have it your way then,” Sandalphon growled again before abruptly turning to leave.
“You be careful,” Maggie nodded to Nina as she picked Aziraphale up. Nina nodded quickly in response, and something in the way their eyes connected made Aziraphale feel as though the two were more than just reluctant coworkers overseen by a tyrant. Part of her felt for them, though another part was also bitter that neither of them seemed fully opposed to using her death as some kind of political move. She did not know who was truly responsible for this plot, but leaving the body of the newly-announced princess on the borders of a country at odds with her own was nothing less than an act of war. If there was one thing Aziraphale hated it was being treated as a pawn in a political game.
—
After Sandalphon stormed away with Maggie and Aziraphale, Nina spent approximately 30 seconds leaning against a rock before sighing in boredom. Not for the first time, she wondered how she had ended up working with such a sad sack of bones as Sandalphon Vizzini. The man was all bark and no bite, and not half as clever as he thought he was. At the beginning, Nina was only in it for the money. Sandalphon was many things, almost none of them positive, but he was rather wealthy, and that was an important factor in Nina’s book. If she was ever going to get revenge on the person who had killed her mother, she would need funds to do so.
Doing the best to banish her thoughts away, Nina looked over the edge of the cliff. The man in black was moving much more slowly than she would have liked. It would take forever for him to get to the top, and after how horrible Sandalphon had been acting during this whole expedition she really was itching for a fight. Drawing her sword she practiced the attacks she planned to lead with for a short while, before sighing in boredom once more and looking over the edge again.
“Hello there!” Nina called cheerfully. The man in black looked up at her, grunted, and returned to his task. “Slow going?” Nina asked with the same forced cheer in her voice.
“Look, I don't mean to be rude—,” the man grunted again and moved up perhaps another three inches “but this is not as easy as it looks. So I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't distract me.”
“Oh, sorry.” Nina sighed again and turned away from the edge of the cliff. She idly practiced a few more moves, before spotting the rock that had been supporting the rope they used to climb up. Given how high up the man in black was, she could likely unwind some of it and still have it be secure enough to hold his weight. Not that the man would probably trust her. She looked over the edge again.
“I don’t suppose you could maybe speed things up?” she asked again.
“If you’re in such a hurry, you could lower a rope, or a tree branch, or find something useful to do.” The man grunted again. Nina truly admired his dedication, and wondered who the princess was to him that he would go through such lengths to follow them.
“Well I actually could. I was considering giving you some of the rope I have right here. But I did not think you would accept it, as I am only waiting up here to kill you.” Nina shrugged. There was no point in dishonesty at this point, and she was someone dedicated to fair play.
“Well that does put a damper on our relationship.” The layers of dripping sarcasm in the man’s voice made Nina laugh. Still she answered him.
“I promise that I will not kill you until you reach the top.” She told him easily, a smile still in her voice.
“That’s very comforting. But I’m afraid you’ll have to wait,” the man replied, securing a firmer hold as he steadily climbed up.
“I hate waiting,” Nina grumbled. “I could give you my word as a Spaniard?” she offered hopefully.
“No good, I’ve known too many Spaniards.” The man in black sighed, temporarily ceasing to climb and resting for a small moment against the cliff face.
“You don’t know any way you might come to trust me?” Nina asked in dismay.
“Nothing comes to mind.” the man in black grunted again before beginning to climb once more.
Nina straightened her shoulders in resolve as she replied firmly: “I swear on the soul of my mother, Simone Montoya, you will reach the top alive.”
There was a pregnant pause as the man in black stopped moving before looking up at Nina. Despite the fact that the man wore dark glasses that obscured his eyes, she knew that he was using them to peer into her soul.
“Throw me the rope.”
Nina dashed over to where the rest of the rope was left and took hold of it, creating enough slack so that she was able to toss it over the edge of the cliff. The man in black took hold, and as he climbed Nina also pulled at the rope. Soon he was over the edge, and once upright began to draw his sword. “Thank you.”
Nina made a dismissive noise before settling down on a rock. “We can wait until you’re ready.”
The man in black nodded in thankful agreement before also settling down on a nearby boulder. Taking off his boots, he shook out a number of rocks before putting them back on.
“I do not mean to pry—” Nina began. “But you would not happen to have six fingers on your right hand?”
The man in black looked up from putting his boots back on and gave Nina a bemused smile. “Do you always begin conversations this way?”
“My mother was slaughtered by a person with six fingers. She was a great sword maker, my mother. And when the six-fingered person appeared and requested a special sword, my mother took the job. She worked for a year before she was done.” Nina drew her sword and handed it to the man in black.
“I have never seen its equal.” the man in black was visibly impressed as he took the sword, testing out its weight in his hand.
“After a year they returned, demanding the sword but at one-tenth of their promised price. When my mother refused, they slashed her through the heart. I loved my mother, so, naturally, I challenged her murderer to a duel…” Nina grew quiet. “I failed. They left me alive, with the sword, and with these.” Nina gestured towards her cheeks, where she had matching thin scars on each side of her face.
“How old were you?” The man in black asked softly.
“I was eleven. When I was strong enough, I dedicated my life to the study of fencing. So that, when next we meet, I will not fail. I will go up to the six-fingered person and say, "Hello, my name is Nina Montoya. You killed my mother. Prepare to die."
“So you’ve done nothing but study swordplay?” the man in black asked, impressed.
“Eh, more pursuit than study lately.” She shrugged. “You see, I cannot find them. After fifteen years, I am starting to lose confidence. I just work for Sandalphon to pay the bills.” Nina sighed. “There's not a lot of money in revenge.”
“Well,” the man in black stood, carefully returning the sword. “I certainly hope you find them, someday.”
“You are ready then?” Nina asked, taking back her sword and stepping away.
“Whether or not I am, you have been more than fair.” The man in black replied, drawing his own sword.
“You seem like a decent fellow,” Nina nodded. “I hate to kill you.”
The man in black’s mouth twisted up into another wry smile as he walked away a few paces. “You seem like a decent fellow. I hate to die.”
They lunged into their fight, each of them quite evenly matched, never quite gaining the upper hand. Both of them masters of the craft, they began to trade banter as they steadily increased from teasing, testing out the waters of one another’s skill, before beginning the duel in earnest. They were evenly matched, each of them having a miraculous escape whenever it seemed that the other would finally dominate.
“Who are you?” Nina asked in bewilderment. In all her years of training, she had gotten to the point where no one had beaten her in over a decade.
“No one of consequence.”
“I must know,” Nina demanded in the face of his dismissal.
“Get used to disappointment.”
“Okay,” Nina shrugged before lunging forward again.
They were evenly matched, with the exception of a few moments when Nina switched to fencing with her right hand — her dominant hand. For a breath, she overtook the man in black, before he too maneuvered his sword to the opposite hand and revealed his true mastery of swordplay, quickly disarming Nina, who found herself on her knees.
“Kill me quickly,” she asked, panting as she fell to the ground.
“I would as soon destroy a stained glass window as an artist like yourself. However, since I can't have you following me either—” the man in black used the handle of his blade to knock Nina into unconsciousness.
“Please understand, I hold you in the highest respect.” The man in black bowed to Nina’s unconscious form before dashing away, following the footsteps that Sandalphon and Maggie had left behind.
—
Sandalphon and Maggie had made decent time after leaving Nina behind, but were nevertheless shocked to see that the man in black was somehow still following them, meaning that he had dispatched Nina, despite her skills.
“Inconceivable!” Sandalphon huffed again, and Aziraphale found herself once more rolling her eyes. “Give her to me!” Sandalphon demanded of Maggie, who set Aziraphale gently on the ground. Sandalphon grabbed her arm roughly as he instructed Maggie. “Catch up with us quickly.”
“But what do I do?” Maggie asked, confused.
“Finish him! Finish him your way!” Sandalphon screeched.
“Oh good, my way.” Maggie paused, and before Sandalphon could turn and leave she asked. “What is my way again?”
Sandalphon gestured towards a large boulder, which had a number of rocks in front of it. “Pick up one of those rocks, get behind the boulder, and in a few minutes, the Man in Black will come running around the bend. The minute his head is in view, hit it with the rock!” Sandalphon snarled. As he pulled Aziraphale away, she heard Maggie’s dismayed voice reply “My way is not very sportsmanlike.”
Once they were a good distance from where they had left Maggie behind, Aziraphale enacted her plan. She had been steadily loosening the rope around her hands, which Sandalphon had utterly failed to notice as he pulled her along. They had just reached the edge of a large hill when she feigned tripping over a rock.
As Sandalphon reached to drag her back up, she took the opportunity to steal the man’s knife from his belt and knock him to the ground. Quickly, while she still had the element of surprise she knocked him flat onto his stomach before using the ropes that had previously held her down to tie his hands behind his wrists. He groaned in pain as she put her whole weight on his back and held the knife to his throat.
“Who hired you?” she questioned him harshly. “Answer me truthfully and I might deign to let you live.”