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It began when they first locked eyes with each other. One set of eyes were as blue as the sea, lapping at his feet and the waves biting at his fishing line. The other set of eyes were as golden as the sun itself and swam deep with unspoken secrets.
It was a brief glance, lasting less than a moment but that one look was all that was needed. The moment the golden eyes and the vibrant red locks disappeared back beneath the waves, the fisherman couldn’t remove the beautiful face from his mind. There was a tentativeness to those golden eyes, a nervous energy but there was also a kindness, a gentleness. The fisherman wanted to know the stories the beautiful man from the sea could tell. The selkie as well could think of nothing but the gentle fisherman, the sunlight on smiling lips and tracing along his bright blonde curls. He imagined they were softer than could be imagined, that his hands were warm and tender, and that he had the sweetest laugh, like the joyful cry of a dolphin.
Something awakened inside the both of them. They were both overwhelmed with an urge to know more about each other, to hear the stories of their lives and to give comfort when downtrodden and laugh alongside when joyful. It was full and gripping, strong as the current and left a powerful ache behind.
They both knew they needed to see each other again.
Every day, the fisherman would go to the same spot, hoping to catch a single glimpse of the selkie once more, but to no avail, until one afternoon three weeks after he’d first seen the handsome stranger. He had just cast his line into the water when the head of red locks came into view once more, followed by the handsome face and golden eyes. Once again, the glance lasted only a moment but it once again spoke volumes.
These glances continued for weeks, with both selkie and fisher longing to speak with the other. But the fisher considered himself too boring and drab to win the affection of such a handsome creature. The selkie on the hand feared the fisher would find him unnatural and reject him.
Even if their fears were simple inventions of their minds, there was still one very glaring problem; being together would spell death. Humans can’t live underwater and selkies can’t live on land.
Despite this, both continued to feel the longing for the other. One afternoon, the fisher sat by the shore, listening to the waves lapping at the sand, a constant lullaby for one raised by the sea.
“Who is he?” The fisher whispered. Almost instantly, the lapping grew louder, the waves themselves began whispering. The sounds they made were nowhere near a human language, yet the fisher understood. It was the sound of a name, as familiar to the fisher as his own, but he was sure he’d never heard it before.
“Crowley?” He repeated the strange yet familiar name, the word feeling right on his tongue. The waves fell silent as soon as he said it, the world standing still as they listened to him saying the name once more. “Crowley.”
The selkie, bearing the name of Crowley, was likewise hoping to find out the name of the gentle fisherman.
A current caressed his arm as he swam through the deep, his seal coat letting him dive deeper into the sea. He stopped as the current swirled around him, whispering to him.
“Aziraphale.”
They both held the names close to their hearts, letting it overflow into them and fulfill the longing ache within them.
But soon that ache began to grow unbearable. A glance soon led to a want for more. A laugh, a kiss, a touch of hands, the feeling of being held in a pair of loving arms. A want to know and be known.
This was why Aziraphale found himself drawn from his bed on the night of the full moon. Something otherworldly seemed to be calling to him, beckoning him to the shore. He dressed quickly, not even bothering with his boots or coat as he rushed from his cottage down to the beach. The moon was beginning to rise, sending ripples of light over the blackened sea. Within the moonbeams, the shimmering waves broke, giving way to the familiar red locks and golden eyes. Aziraphale’s eyes widened as the form of the selkie, his selkie, rose from the water, walking through the waves until his feet hit the sand. Up close, Aziraphale could see every sharp angle and edge of his handsome face and marvel at the way the moonlight reflected on the long, fire-red locks. He came close, reaching for Aziraphale’s hands, which the fisher gladly gave him. The fingers were long, elegant, but the palm was warm and there was a gentleness to the touch.
“Crowley?” The fisher said gently. The selkie gave a single nod, revelling in the softness of the fisher’s voice.
“Aziraphale?” The selkie asked. The fisher nodded in turn, looking to their interlocked hands.
“I know you.” Aziraphale said. “I’ve never met you before in my life but I know you like I know my own soul.”
Crowley shifted his hand, weaving their fingers together. They slotted within each other like keys in a lock, like they’d been made to hold onto each other.
“Is it bold of me to say that I love you?” Crowley asked. “Because I do. I know you as well as you know me. I know your name like I know my own. The moment I saw you, I knew I loved you.”
“If I called you bold, I’d call myself a hypocrite in the same breath.” Aziraphale said. “I’ve loved you for...I don’t even know how long. Perhaps I was born loving you.”
The selkie raised his hand, laying it across the gentle fisherman’s face. Aziraphale leaned into the touch, warmth and safety laced into the skin.
“Come with me.” Crowley said. “Come with me back to the sea, to the kingdom of the selkies. Be my husband.”
Aziraphale sighed. “I would, I would gladly be your husband. But I can’t go into the water, I’d drown before we even reached your home.”
Crowley thought for a moment before he said, “Then I’ll stay with you. I’ll stay with you on shoreland.”
“But...you would die.” Aziraphale said, his voice weak and pained. Selkies that step upon the land cannot stay past midnight without dropping dead within the same moment.
Crowley drew nearer, pressing his forehead to Azirpahale’s. “I’d gladly have you be the death of me than live one thousand years without you.”
Their lips met, it wasn’t clear who started the kiss, yet at the same time, it didn’t matter. They simply met. And there they stayed, letting themselves be surrounded by the gentle rush of the waves and the still night. It was only a brief, sweet and tender brush of lips but it meant the world to both of them.
Aziraphale hadn’t realized he’d begun crying, silent tears trickling from his eyes. There was so much inside him it had all come bursting out. He felt joy and relief, like he had been trapped beneath a frozen lake his entire life and had finally taken his first breath after breaking through. But there was also unthinkable sorrow. For with the relief came the realization that this lovely feeling, this completeness, this wholeness, it wasn’t going to last. Before the sun even came up, Crowley would be long dead. He couldn’t bear the thought, he just couldn’t!
Their kiss broke when Crowley realized Aziraphale had tears in his eyes. A gentle warm hand cradled the fisher’s plump cheek.
“What is it, what’s wrong?” Crowley asked.
“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale apologized. “I just...I’ve only just found you and I’m going to lose you.”
Crowley gently caressed Aziraphale’s face, circling his thumb along his jawline, silent, at a complete loss for words. No type of encouragement seemed right, no words could soothe either of them. He simply pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s again, letting out a quivering breath.
A determination rose in Aziraphale’s chest. He shook his head.
“No.” He said. “No, I won’t let that happen. I won’t marry you just to watch you die in the same night. I can’t accept it.”
“Well, what can be done?” Crowley asked.
Aziraphale stroked his chin, deep in thought before a twinkle of hope sparked behind his clear blue eyes. He turned, keeping his hand linked with Crowley’s
“Come with me. I have an idea.” He said.
“Where? What are you planning?” Crowley asked.
“My grandmother. She’s lived by the sea since she was a child. She might know a way, some kind of old magic or something to help you stay on land.”
Crowley gave Aziraphale’s hand a squeeze. “Lead the way.”
Aziraphale’s grandmother had raised him after his parents died and she was a very worldly and eccentric woman. Most people thought Agnes Nutter was a witch, not that Agnes herself minded. If it meant she was left alone, all the better. Every so often, someone from town would make the two mile trek to her cottage for a cure for their ailments, which she gladly obliged. But for the most part, she enjoyed her quiet life. Days traveled on at their own pace, slow and quiet.
But tonight...there was magic in the air tonight.
When Aziraphale and Crowley knocked on the door to her cottage, they were surprised to find her awake, waiting for them. She quickly waved them inside and pressed warm cups of tea into their hands, pacing as they explained their situation. She was quiet for a long time before she sighed.
“I don’t know any kind of magic that would allow a selkie to live on the shore. It’s never been done, not that I’ve ever heard of.”
Crowley looked to Aziraphale, despair in his eyes and shook his head. The fisherman knit his eyebrows. “No, there has to be some way. I’ll search every-”
“You didn’t let me finish, my boy.” Agnes said sharply. Aziraphale went still as Agnes smirked. Even after all these years she could still silence him with just a word. “There’s no way for Crowley to live on shore...but there may be a way for you to live with Crowley in the selkie kingdom.”
She pulled up a chair of her own, sitting across from the couple.
“When my mother was about your age, Aziraphale, the selkie queen gifted her a seal coat. To keep it safe until she had need of it, she buried it beneath the old oak tree. Before she died she told me that whoever put the coat on would become a selkie.”
Aziraphale went quiet, looking from his grandmother, to Crowley, to his hands folded in his lap, a plethora of confusing thoughts coursing through his mind. An elegant hand settled atop his folded ones. When he looked up, he saw a gentle smile across Crowley’s face.
“Whatever you choose, love, I’ll stand by you. I understand if you don’t want to leave your home. We can find another way.”
The fisher looked to his grandmother. “The choice is yours.” She said.
Aziraphale sunk back into his thoughts. His entire life, ever since he was a boy, he’d lived on this shore, on this land. Yet he’d struggled with the sense that he belonged somewhere different, perhaps not even on the land at all. He always dismissed those thoughts, thinking he was being foolish. Now that a chance to find that calling and answer it was in front of him, a joyful lift came to his chest. But it was poisoned by fear. Just because he felt he didn’t belong on the land, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t miss it. And what if he was wrong? What if he traveled with Crowley and found he didn’t belong under the sea or on the land? What would he do then?
Crowley gave his hand a squeeze and a reassuring smile. The warmth and relief came to the fisherman’s chest again and he squeezed back. As long as he was by Crowley’s side, he would belong.
“I’ll go anywhere you go.” He said before he looked to his grandmother. “Where is the tree?”
Agnes told them how to find the tree and brought them a shovel and a lantern. As the pair stepped out of the cottage, Azirpahale looked back at his grandmother before embracing her tightly.
“If I go through with this, it’s possible that I’ll never see you again.” He whispered.
Agnes pulled away a little, settling an aged hand against Aziraphale’s face. “I’ve raised you since you were a babe, my darling Aziraphale, watched you grow from a boy to a man. Those golden moments will carry me along.” She kissed his forehead. “If this brings you happiness, then my heart is content as well.”
He gave her a final embrace before he slipped from her arms and he and Crolwey walked away, hand in hand into the night.
They were running short on time, midnight was a mere hour away and Crowley’s face was beginning to grow pale, looking sickly under the light of the full moon. But they did their best to keep their quickened pace even as the selkie felt his strength drawing away. He had never ventured so far from the water before and without his seal body, he felt frail and vulnerable, shivering in the cold night air.
Aziraphale kept a tight hold on Crowley’s hand, leading him down the path his grandmother had described, not slowing down for even a moment. His heart was thumping in his chest, watching the moon as it slowly rose higher in the sky. Thirty minutes until midnight.
Crowley’s hand slipped out of his and there was a thud behind him. Aziraphale whirled around to find that Crowley had collapsed.
“Crowley!” He gasped, kneeling down by the selkie. His body was wracked with shivers and his forehead dotted with sweat. Aziraphale pulled the selkie into his arms, cradling him close as he stood again, continuing down the path. “We’re almost there dearest. Just hold on.” Crowley nestled his head against the fisher’s chest, his breath light. They had to hurry.
The path through the woods suddenly opened up into a clearing, illuminated by the moon. There in the center of the clearing was an enormous elfin oak tree. Beneath the trunk was a rung of toadstools, lit up by fireflies.
Aziraphale set Crowley down in the soft grass, kissing his forehead before gathering the shovel.
The earth gave access as the blade of the shovel carved into the dirt. Aziraphale took care not to harm the toadstools, fairy rings were sacred after all. Pile after pile of dirt was cleared away until the shovel hit something that wasn’t dirt. Aziraphale dropped to his knees, reaching into the hole as his fingers traced along something soft and sleek. He grabbed hold and pulled, the seal cost bursting from the earth and into his arms.
Wasting no time, he hung the coat over his shoulder and rushed over to Crowley, scooping him up and running back down the path.
Ten minutes until midnight.
Aziraphale’s lungs burned and his legs ached but he continued running towards the shore. Down the path and out of the woods.
Five minutes to midnight.
Past his grandmother’s cottage and his own little house.
Two minutes.
Still holding Crowley in his arms, Aziraphale’s feet hit the sand and he continued racing to the water.
One minute.
Thirty seconds.
Fifteen seconds.
Just before the stroke of midnight, Aziraphale’s feet splashed against the shoreline, his feet and trousers soaked within seconds. Wordlessly, he set Crowley on his feet. As soon as the selkie’s toes touched the water, his skin became rosy and healthy once more and his limbs once again were strong and lithe. A heavy breath of relief escaped his lungs as the cool seawater lapped at his shins. He stood still for a moment, breathing deeply, letting the water splash against him. Aziraphale simply watched the selkie, his lovely red tresses cascading down his back, flowing gently on the evening breeze. The moonlight made his damp skin glimmer like starlight and his face was clear, relaxed.
The fisher slowly approached and laced one hand through Crowley’s the other clutching the seal coat to his chest. Crowley opened his eyes and looked over at his lover, his small relieved smile growing wider as he squeezed Aziraphale’s hand.
“Perfect timing.” He said.
Aziraphale breathed out a laugh, too filled with relief and excitement to do much else. Crowley chuckled as well, pulling Aziraphale into a gentle embrace, laying a kiss against his forehead. When they separated, Crowley looked at the coat in Aziraphale’s arms and placed his free hand over Aziraphale’s, so they were both touching the cloak.
“It’s time, my love.” He whispered.
Aziraphale took a breath as Crowley took the coat from his arms and draped it around his shoulders.
“Are you nervous?” Crowley asked as he pulled the hood over Aziraphale’s head.
“A bit.” Aziraphale murmured. Crowley pulled up the hoot of his own seal coat, chuckling before laying the tenderest kiss against Aziraphale’s lips, which the blond deepened after a moment, laying his arms over Crowley’s shoulders. With warm hands, Crowley stroked Aziraphale’s back and caressed his hip. The fireworks began bursting in Aziraphale’s chest once again. Crowley’s arms were so right and warm around his body. When the kiss ended, they still stayed nestled close to each other, Aziraphale tucking his head under Crowley’s chin.
“You’ll be alright.” Crowley assured. “I’ll be by your side the whole time.”
Aziraphale took another breath. “I’m ready.”
Nobody in the village knew what happened to Aziraphale, the humble fisher. When anyone came to Agnes nutter for any kind of potion or medicine, some would ask where her grandson had gone. Agnes would only smile and say she didn’t know, but she was certain he was happy.
If anyone had been further curious, she would direct them to the sea, shortly after the sun had gone down. If you listen carefully, beyond the gentle crash of the waves, you’ll hear two seals in the distance, barking and playing in the waves.