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Aziraphale supposed it was interesting that his flaming sword still managed to flame while underwater, but there were better ways to find out than dropping it down a well. He craned over the side and gazed down, seeing the glimmers of red and orange, far beyond his reach.
"You've done it now," said the snake, watching him from the apple tree.
"I suppose I have, yes." Aziraphale wondered if he could hook a rope around it or something, and draw it up. He wasn't quite sure how it would work.
"Bound to happen," the snake said, not unkindly. "Don't want to go waving a big killing thing like that around. Sssssupposed to be a weapon."
"Yes, it is." Aziraphale sighed and sat on the edge of the well. "Never been very keen on that. Didn't enjoy the war. It seemed to me that maybe I'd learn to like the damn, excuse my language, thing more if I just focused on how pretty it was."
"It's certainly very impressive. All flamey, even under the water like that." They sat in silence for a while, Aziraphale on the wall and the snake in the tree. Almost companionable silence. It made it hard for Aziraphale to point out that predators like snakes, even charming, talking ones, certainly weren't welcome in the Fairy Queen's garden. Besides, the snake was showing him a certain amount of sympathy, and he felt very much like he wanted sympathy.
Eventually, the snake broke the silence. "Don't think your family will be very impressed with you for losing it."
"No, I'm afraid they won't." He turned to the snake. "I don't suppose you…" He fixed pleading eyes on the snake, which was really quite a handsome creature, with glossy black scales and a flaming red underbelly. The most striking yellow eyes, too.
"Er. Um. Ah. I want to, you understand. It's just snakes and slippery surfaces, we don't really mix. I could get in, all right, but getting out again, let alone with a big flaming sword in my coils…"
"I could do it, guv."
The voice was harsh and entirely unlike the soft, sibilant voice of the snake, except that it, too, was human. A toad, with big liquid dark eyes, had hopped onto the wall beside him.
"Oh, thank you," Aziraphale said, with great relief. "I was so worried."
"Bugger off, Hastur," said the snake.
The toad ignored him. "I do have something to ask in return. A deal, kind of. Not allowed to offer favours, without a deal. It's the rules, you understand."
"What could I possibly offer a toad?"
"Notttttttthing," hissed the snake, who could apparently hiss dental frictives as well as sibilants. Must be something to do with his fangs, or possibly his tongue. "Bugger off, Hastur. This one's my scene."
"Always fancied living in the fairy castle. Being the friend of a pretty fairy prince like you," said the toad, with what Aziraphale felt was unnecessary flattery. He didn't fool himself that he wasn't well past his prime, and definitely was more padded around the… everywhere… than he had been in his youth. He felt a bit miserable about every poor nubile princess who found her name up for his family's consideration as a potential bride, especially since he had no real interest in nubile princesses. "I merely ask you take me back and be my friend and playmate for three days and three nights. Let me sleep on your pillow, eat from your golden plates. Like I was a prince myself."
"Don't do it," said the snake.
Aziraphale hesitated, but what difference could it make? The poor toad, it wouldn't hurt to make a fuss of him, although Aziraphale did shudder a little at the thought of his delicately cooked meals being touched by a slimy toad. But he wasn't a snob, and it didn't seem right to reject the toad just because the poor thing had warts and an unpleasant voice. They were all his mother's subjects.
Besides, Gabriel really would be quite cutting when he found out what happened to the sword.
"Of course I will, Master Toad Hastur, you dear, helpful thing," Aziraphale said, determined to like him.
The snake hissed like a kettle spilling over, but the toad vanished into the well with a plop, and came up with the hilt of the sword in his hand. Aziraphale took it carefully, and turned the flame off, worried that it would burn his new… playmate.
."See you at dinner," the toad said, and leapt into the bushed.
"Now you've done it," complained the snake. "Didn't your mother teach you not to make deals with demons?"
"He's not a demon, serpent. They haven't come anywhere near here since the last war. He's a talking toad. Quite a polite and helpful one."
"Ssssatan save me," groaned the snake.
"I hardly think He would have any interest in a fairy's welfare."
"Guess not." They sat quietly a while longer. It began to rain, which Aziraphale supposed was nice for Hastur, but he was a little concerned about the snake. He offered the corner of his cape, and the snake slid out of the tree and under the shelter he made, curling up next to him.
"I'm Crawly," offered the snake.
"Hmm. Crawly." He tasted the sound of it. "A suitable name."
"I dunno, it's not really me. Thinking of changing it."
"I'm Aziraphale, prince of the Western Gate."
"I know who you are, Aziraphale. Been watching you a while." The snake sighed. "Carry me back to the palace, will you? I've a feeling you're going to need me."
"I'm not sure I should trust you. Don't snakes eat toads? I'm sure that would breach my agreement, letting Hastur get eaten."
"I wouldn't want to give myself a stomach ache. Come on. Look. Let's make a deal."
Aziraphale hesitated, but allowed Crawly to slide up his arm and around his shoulders. "I'm not stupid, you know. If the talking toad is a demon, then so are you."
"Can't help my nature. Your mum was the one who cursed us into animal form anyway. Said some really insulting things about crawling in the dust. Look, Aziraphale, I've got an idea. You can have one of my apples," said the snake.
"I think you'll find they're my mother's apples. And we're not allowed to eat the apples from that tree."
"What are you, a grown prince or a little kid? Do you really need your mum's permission to eat a piece of fruit?"
Azirpahale bristled a little. "You might have difficulty telling the difference between right and wrong, my good demon snake—"
"I'm not good."
"But if I'm told to do the right thing, I will do it, and not the wrong one."
"Huh. Guess you were never told to take care of your flaming sword and not go around dropping it down wells, then."
Aziraphale pursed his lips, too annoyed at being wrong to admit it..
"Look." Crawly's voice underwent a change, became insinuating, winding around him like the heavy black coils. "The apples are delicious. Crisp, so juicy that the moisture beads on the creamy-green inner flesh when you bite into them, sweet and sour and tart. The most delicious apples in all the world. I know you look at them, sun-warmed and rosy, and wonder why they're forbidden, when every other dainty in the palace is allowed to you. I could feed it to you, you know. Cut you slices with a golden knife and lift them to your lips, watch you take them in, lip the juice from your lips with the tip of your tongue…"
Aziraphale blinked, casting off his dreamy sensation. "Are you proposing to hold the knife with the tip of your tail?"
"Oh. Yeah. Forgot. No hands." Snakes could not blush; Aziraphale was only imagining the red flared brighter. "You'd have to do the cutting. But it would be delicious, just the same. And why should pleasure be forbidden?"
"Are you trying to tempt me?" Aziraphale asked, mildly outraged.
"Yeah. Is it working?"
"Not at all!"
The snake sighed, which made an interesting sound with a mouth and tongue like that. "Look, I have to give you something so that you can offer me a bargain in return. It's in the rules."
"What am I supposed to offer in return?"
Crawly seemed to consider this for a moment. "I don't know what Hastur's up to, but he's a slimy one. Offer me the same thing he wanted. Eat from your plate, sleep on your pillow, be my… playmate for three days. I can keep an eye on the toad like that, and keep you safe. Not that I care. I mean, it would be silly for a demon snake to care about a fairy prince. I just don't like Hastur getting his way."
"You know, for a demon, you're really rather sweet."
"Shut it," said the snake.
Aziraphale reached up and plucked an apple.
————
"Nnngh," said Crawly. "Have some more. Plenty of apples left."
"I think I'm quite full, thank you," Aziraphale said with regret, patting his rounded tummy. There was an almost imperceptible shine of juice on Aziraphale's pink mouth and his plump fingers, his cheeks flushed with pleasure, his sea-sky-swamp eyes shining. Gosh, he was ridiculously beautiful.
"Certain you don't want anymore?"
"Certain. You don't have to tempt me into eating the whole tree, you know."
"Oh, all right," said the snake, reflecting that at least he would be… Sssssatan… eating off the prince's plate. He tried to ignore the fact that Hastur would be there too. He tentatively flicked out his tongue to taste the juice on Aziraphale's fingers. It was all right, although there was nothing much in it to cause just so much pleasure. It was just Aziraphale. He enjoyed things so much. Sun on his skin, and the flicker of flames on his sword, the green scent of air and the comfort of sitting on the grass.
Crawly had been watching the prince a very long while. He'd felt the first flicker of interest when he first was sent to the castle garden and had noticed that one of the royal family was different to the others in the family of warriors. Softer, in more ways than one. Prince Sandalphon was stout, too, but it was the stoutness of a fighter built to endure. Aziraphale had the remains of muscles, but he looked like he preferred to let his body settle into comfort and middle age without all that silly fitness, now the war was over. Not so much battering swords into ploughshares as beating them into forks.
He was different in other ways, too. The royal family all shone, harsh and painful, but Aziraphale's was a cosy golden glow, like the sun on a nice rock, made to curl up under. His smile was promisingly sweet and endearingly worried with his family, but when he was alone he hummed to himself, read his books, bought snacks and tea and wine out under the sun.
Crawly lied to himself at first. After all, deception was his thing. Aziraphale was an obvious target in the enemy family, too self-indulgent and dreamy to protect himself the way Uriel or Michael could. It was a sensible strategic decision to dog his footsteps whenever he entered the garden, looking for weaknesses, ways in.
The wrinkles around his eyes were kind, and he really had a very attractive bottom. Nice calves, too. Bitable, and Crawly wasn't sure if it was his serpent self or his demonic self who had the impulse. nyway, he was supposed to be imagining ways to harm him, to find the ways to wriggle inside his armour. Imagining what it would be like to be able to pamper him and bring that delightful glow of pleasure to him. Please him in other ways. Or even just to dare to kiss his lips. See Aziraphale smile directly at him. Confess he was deeply and besottedly in love.
Just his luck, the luck that had stalked him all his life. To finally meet someone so beautiful, so kind and so devoted to the pleasures of life, when he was trapped in a snake body. and couldn't do anything about it even if he'd had two legs and…. other equipment.
Oh , well. It wasn't supposed to be fun and games, being a demon. And at least he had the excuse to speak to Aziraphale now, stay close to him. And keep that bloody toad away from him, whatever Hastur was planning. Causing trouble in the palace was all well and good. Causing trouble was what Crawly was there for. Just not trouble for his prince, who needed to be cosseted and teased and spoiled.
Aziraphale was warm and plump and solid as Crawly curled around him. It felt good, being carried to the castle. Although Crawly was a little worried…
"Demon! Release my brother at once, you disgusting fiend!"
Apparently, the rest of the royal family weren't as oblivious as Aziraphale, or as polite.
"It's all right, Uriel," Aziraphale said. "Master Crawly is my guest."
Uriel didn't lower her golden crossbow, although she was clearly uncertain whether to just shoot anyway. Crawly had the horrible feeling she would see Aziraphale as an acceptable loss. "We'll see what Mother has to say about that."
"I say my son should keep his promises." The voice was warm and sweet, and Crawly couldn't look in its direction for a sudden terror of being dissolved and shattered into light. He'd never been on speaking terms with the Queen, and he had slunk away from her, hating the feeling that she could look right at the back of his brain and shift out every bit he kept hidden and ashamed of. He couldn't bear to look upon her and see her terrible radiance straight-on. "Hello, Crawly. It's been a while." He struggled not to hide his head in Aziraphale's armpit.
"Thank you, Mother," Aziraphale said, with some relief.
"That goes for the toad, too," said the Queen, who was quite well-informed for someone who had been in the palace at the time.
The meal passed in almost delirious joy. Crawly didn't eat a lot, but he took some from Aziraphale's fingers for the pleasure of taste-touch-scenting his skin along with the food, and he was up close and personal to watch every savoured bite, every time the pale eyelashes fluttered with delight, every bob of the adam's apple as the prince swallowed. It felt sacred and obscene all at once, and Crawly didn't understand how the other members of Aziraphale's family could just sit there as if nothing special, nothing intimate was happening. As if this was just an ordinary meal.
Around the third course, Aziraphale asked if snakes drank wine.
"I'll give it a go," Crawly said cheerfully. "I mean, I didn't think snakes are oysters, either." Watching Aziraphale tilt his head back and let them slip down his throat had been almost unbearably erotic, in a strange way that was utterly distant from Crawly's actual shape, which was entirely uninterested in fat humans except as potential food sources. It was the memories of him, he supposed, the demon bits, that had been utterly transfixed, that had imagined being bipedal and monopenile again and Aziraphale kneeling at his feet, tipping that beautiful head back...
Pushing the thoughts away became harder the more wine he lapped from the saucer, but fortunately words came easier, too. Too easily, if a bit slurred. They seemed to bubble straight from his thoughts to his head. He was trying to tell Aziraphale the story of a demon who had replaced a fairy princess and made her herd ducks, and Aziraphale kept interrupting him and arguing that you couldn't herd ducks, they'd fly away, and anyway why didn't the fairy princess just say something, when there was the long, slow, dramatic plopping noise of a toad coming up the hall broke his blissful trance. Of course Hastur had to show up with drama. Couldn't just come in normally.
"What is that disgusting thing?" asked Gabriel, the crown prince.
"He's one of Mother's subjects," Aziraphale said reproachfully, if a bit drunkenly. He stroked Crawly absently, his fingers sending shivers of pleasure down Crawly's long, long spine. The snake slid from the table and curled possessively on Aziraphale's lovely, thick thighs, glaring at the toad.
"Not any more. We banished the demons," pointed out Sandalphon.
"The toad is welcome as my son's guest," the Queen said, in her sweet, dreadful voice. Crawley was a little pleased to see Hastur tremble, although the toad's eyes were dark with hatred. "Greetings, your Grace. I didn't think to see you at my table again."
Hastur ignored her, and turned his venomous gaze on Aziraphale and Crawly. Venomous. That was it. Hastur was venomous.
"Don't touch any food he touches!" Crawley hissed, hoping it was loud enough for Aziraphale and too quiet for Hastur. "And wash your hands before eating anything. Just in case."
"How come Crawly's here?" Hastur asked, resentfully.
"I'm afraid I made a similar promise to him. Quite a day for promises, isn't it?" Aziraphale said, smiling charmingly. Crawly sniggered. "Up you come, Master Ploppy. I was beginning to be afraid you'd miss dinner." He leaned down and let Hastur crawl onto his hand, then lifted him to his plate.
Hastur's tongue darted out to taste the cake. Then he looked suspiciously at Aziraphale.
"Aren't you going to have any too?"
"I'm quite full, thank you," said Aziraphale, and added, with a touch of malice, "dear little playmate."
Crawly sniggered so hard he almost choked on his own tongue.
—-–—
That night, Aziraphale carried Hastur up to bed in his hands and with Crawly draped over his shoulders, ignoring the pointed comments of his siblings. He could feel his mother's gaze on him, and he wondered at it, a little.
He placed Hastur carefully on his pillow, then washed his hands thoroughly. Then he climbed a bit unsteadily into bed. Crawly moved immediately, settling himself between Aziraphale and the toad in what felt like protectiveness, long body curled around Aziraphale's waist.
"You're lucky I showed up," said the snake. He really had very lovely eyes. Like yellow jewels.
"I suppose I am, really." He reached out a finger, and Crawly flickered his tongue against it, soft and ticklish. Lovely creature.
"Home come I'm on the outside?" complained Hastur.
"You're on his pillow, just as promised. Sssssshut up."
"Good night, my little animal friends," Aziraphale said, hoping it was firmly enough to forestall further conversation, and ignored the hisses and croaks of outrage as he went to sleep.
When he woke, the serpent's head was nestled against his cheek, heavy and all silken scales. "Hello, my dear," he said sleepily.
"Aziraphale." The snake seemed a bit bewildered. "Good morning."
"Where's Hastur?"
"Master Ploppy's still asleep." If snakes could smirk, Crawly was.
"Still no idea why he wants to do this?"
"I'm not sure. Anything special about the bed?"
"Not that I know of. It used to be terribly hard to sleep, I would toss and turn all night, but it turned out Gabriel was hiding a dried pea under my mattress. You have no idea how I suffered."
"Spoiled little fairy," said the snake, fondly.
"The number three is usually significant," Aziraphale said thoughtfully. Perhaps we could go to the castle library, and see what we could find." He felt a little hopeful. He could always do with an excuse to go to the library.
"M'snake. Snakes don't read books."
"Well, fortunately, I do. I hope it's nothing too evil."
"Sure to be," the snake said glumly.
Hastur croaked crossly at the thought of a day in the library, but Aziraphale hushed him. "You wanted to be my playmate. Well, reading is my idea of fun. Sit on the window ledge and catch flies or something. Or," he took a deep, courageous breath, "sit on my lap."
In the end he did just that, which was hardly comfortable, but Crawly looping around his shoulders made up for it. Aziraphale did find a few stories on animal transformations, and was somewhat intrigued by the ones on transformed husbands. Unfortunately, Crawly said he didn't have a spare snakeskin to burn and had no idea how to turn the fruits in the garden to gold, so that didn't seem useful. Besides, it didn't solve the problem of Hastur.
In the end, Aziraphale decided to put it out of his mind, and just enjoy his time with Crawly. And Hastur, of course. He hadn't quite realised how lonely he was, surrounded by his family. They were very good, of course, and brave and kind in their own way, but not... sympathetic. They always made him feel a bit stupid and weak.
Crawly, however, looked at him with what seemed to be almost affection in his great unlidded eyes. Just an illusion, of course. He was a demon, and not to be trusted.
He was very good company, though. A friend. Aziraphale had longed for a friend, for love, for someone who chose to be with him and him only. And Crawly had asked for that to protect him. He probably had ulterior motives, but, even so. It was so very kind of him.
Aziraphale had never slept as well as he did that night, with a snake wrapped around him almost like he was being cuddled. And the toad on his pillow, of course.
The third day was both the happiest and most painful of his life. Hwe was a little relieved to be free of Hastur from the morning, presumably, although his heart trembled at the thought of what might happen on the fourth day. But Crawly... Could he ask him to stay? No. That was ridiculous. Demons and fairies were enemies, and mother would have Crawly cast out as soon as their arrangement was over.
It wasn't like Crawly would want to stay, anyway.
Sleep was a long time coming that night, but the weight of the serpent over him was pleasant.
"Good night, Master Ploppy. Good night, Crawly." The dearest friend I ever had, Aziraphale felt but did not say. As sleep came over him, he tilted his head slightly, and brushed a kiss against the snake's mouth.
With sleep, came a dream. A man was in the bed with him, naked, all sharp features and long limbs. It wasn't that unusual, really. Aziraphale often dreamed of beautiful naked men turning up unexpectedly in his bed, but this one had a slightly crooked nose and long lanky limbs and felt… real, somehow. When the strange man raised his fairy-looking eyelids to reveal yellow jewel-like eyes, it didn't feel surprising at all.
"Aziraphale," said the man, in the snake's voice, but hoarse and… yearning. It was a thing of wonder, to be looked at like that, and his soul blossomed in response.
"Crawly?" Aziraphale looked at his lips, wondering if there was a snake's tongue hidden there.
"I think I prefer Crowley. More me."
"Hmm." Aziraphale barely felt in control of himself as he leaned forward, slow as a whisper, and kissed the man's lips.
Crowley didn't have a snake tongue, as it turned out, but he could do very interesting things with it, and neither had much attention to spare for the toad as it croaked in thwarted rage and disappeared out the window. Aziraphale was too busy finding out what very interesting places a demon could think of to use his tongue.
—-—
"You are so in so much trouble."
"Good morning, Michael." Aziraphale snuggled closer into Crawly's arms, which had shown no sign of turning back into coils even after Aziraphale had woken and realised it wasn't a dream.
"I'm getting Mother."
"I suppose we'd better put some clothes on," Aziraphale said.
"The kiss of true love breaks the spell. Who would have thought it?" Crawly asked dreamily, kissing Aziraphale's nose.
"We did a lot more than kiss. Oh, dear. Do you think that's what Hastur had in mind?" Aziraphale looked guilty.
"Nah. Think probably just wanted to murder you in your sleep or something."
"Oh. Good." Aziraphale kissed him
"There!" Michael said triumphantly. "Mother, Aziraphale is in bed with a naked demon. Kissing him."
"Oh, dear." For all the Fairy Queen's voice was terrifying, it also sounded distinctly amused, and oddly like Aziraphale for a moment.
"What should we do?" demanded Michael.
"Well, that's up to Aziraphale," said the Fairy Queen. But I should advise him to marry his snake bridegroom. What do you think, Crowley?"
"Sounds like heaven to me," said Crowley. "Now, please get out of our bedroom."
And, as the saying went, they lived happily ever after and loved each other to the end of their days. As for the toad... Well. That's another story