Happy Holidays, Greywolfheir! (Part 5)
The inside of the cave was very spacious. The ceiling was high, and the walls were far apart. There were spires of rock hanging from the ceiling, and a couple smaller rocks on the ground. The ground seemed to slope at a slight angle, but not so much that it would affect walking. Looking farther down, the cave seemed to narrow, and the ceiling smoothed out, the rock spires becoming smaller until they eventually disappeared. What lay after that was unknown, as the darkness seemed to absorb the lantern light like a vacuum.
Complete silence hung in the air, only being disturbed by the footfalls of the two. The sound echoed off of the cave walls and ceiling. Occasionally they would see a shadow flicker, which was a result of the lantern light. As they traveled deeper in the cave, it became harder to see, and it got to the point that they could only discern the area a few feet in front of them.
Naturally, both of them were on guard for any possible attack. They kept an eye on the ceiling of the cave so as to look for unexpected rock spires and hanging bats. They made sure to stand close together in case something were to come out of the darkness and grab them. And even though they hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, they kept their hands on the hilts of their swords, ready to draw them if the need arose. As a precaution, they both avoided saying anything to make it easier to listen for potential predators and to not draw unwanted attention from them.
By this point, the cave interior was significantly smaller than it was before. It was tall enough for them to pass under, but low enough so that if one stood on the other’s shoulders, they would be able to touch the ceiling. It was wide enough for them to pass through side by side, but narrow enough so if they both stretched their arms out completely to the side and touched fingertips, they would be able to reach both walls of the cave. Aziraphale and Crowley took advantage of these dimensions, walking side by side and staying away from the cave walls and ceiling.
Neither of them were aware of how much time had passed, or how deep into the mountain they were, but they knew that they had been there for a long time. It seemed that the cave was leading them into the heart of the mountain, and they wondered how much longer they would have to go before they reached the ineffable artifact. They both hoped that the ineffable artifact was as powerful as the legend claimed, as that would make all their trials and tribulations worth it. By this point, they were both functioning on sheer force of will, as nearly all the strength in their body had been depleted by the trials they faced earlier.
The silence was broken by Crowley, who asked, “How long have we been walking?”
“I don’t know,” Aziraphale said. “It’s hard to judge without the sun. Maybe we could go outside and check.”
“Yeah, so we can just walk back here all over again,” Crowley said wryly. “Never mind. Forget that I asked.”
“Why? Are you tired?” Aziraphale asked, feeling tired himself, but willing to go on if Crowley was still up for it.
“A bit,” Crowley said, thinking to himself that that was an understatement.
“Should we rest a little, or…?”
Crowley understood Aziraphale’s hesitation. The two of them had spent a lot of the day walking and, more recently, sprinting for their lives. That coupled with the fact that all they got to eat and drink was a bowl of soup and some creek water, the effects were starting to weigh down on them. However, considering they were in a dark cave, resting would give any lurking creatures a perfect opportunity to strike.
After a bout of silence, Aziraphale answered his own question. “How about we sit down for a moment, but don’t drop our guard. If we hear something, we can just keep going.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Crowley said.
The two of them sat down next to the cave wall, checking for anything suspicious before settling down. They set their bags between each other, and Aziraphale put his lantern on the ground by their feet. Neither of them removed the swords from their belts, as they felt it would be tempting fate to do so. For a couple minutes, the two of them sat there, listening. The cave was absolutely silent, as if it was holding its breath.
The silence became overwhelming, and Aziraphale said, “So this quest. It’s been crazy.”
Crowley scoffed, “Major understatement, angel. Nothing is how it’s supposed to be. With endless forests, killer plants, and an invisible force that causes extreme pain, this ineffable artifact better be impressive.”
Prior to the quest, Aziraphale would’ve chastised Crowley for complaining. Now, all he could do was nod. “Yeah, we’ll have a bizarre story to tell the others when we get back.”
“You’re telling me,” Crowley said, grateful that he had said ‘when’ and not ‘if.’
A brief lull entered the conversation, and the two of them sat there for a bit, reflecting on just how insane the last hours had been. Something resurfaced in his mind, and Aziraphale asked, “Back in the forest, how did you know which way to go?”
Crowley looked up at him and asked, “You don’t know?”
Aziraphale was about to get offended when he realized that Crowley did not have a condescending tone like he did the first time he answered, but was genuinely wondering. He sighed and said, “No, I don’t. I was thinking about that on the riverbank, and I just can’t come up with a solution. The trees looked the same, and I didn’t see any marks on the ground. So what was it?”
Crowley smiled and said, “The answer is simple. I followed the tree roots.” Aziraphale gave him a baffled look, and his smile widened. “I know it sounds crazy, but I’ll explain it as best as I can.
“You probably remember how after discovering that all the trees in the woods were the same, we both started walking around, trying to think of a solution. Personally, I deduced that going forward was going to get us nowhere, and that we had to change course soon. The only question was where we were to go next. I was wrapped up in my thoughts, pacing around like you, when suddenly something caught my attention. It was extremely subtle, but I still noticed it: the dirt felt different in certain areas. I walked around, trying to measure just where it was and why, and found out that the different feel came from the tree roots buried in the ground.”
“Wait, but how would you be able to feel that?”
“I don’t know,” Crowley said, closing his eyes for a moment. “But I knew that there was something weird going on. I stood there, trying to make sense of it, and suddenly felt something under the ground shift. I didn’t know what it was at first, and I was thinking over possible explanations when you ran into me and knocked me down. I fell over and hit the ground, and while lying there, I knew that my suspicions were correct.”
“You knew that there were tree roots under the ground?”
“Not only that, but that the tree roots were moving. I lay there, trying to detect where they were shifting. The roots burrowed closer and closer to the surface to the point where I thought they were going to impale me, but they instead started stretching back in the direction that we came from earlier.”
Aziraphale made a face of recognition. “So that’s why you didn’t get up.”
“Exactly. I was trying to determine what was going on. Eventually you lifted me up and, upon standing, I got an idea. I decided that maybe if we followed the tree roots, then we would be led out of the woods.”
After listening, Aziraphale shook his head. “Is it crazy that I actually believe you?”
“Not at all,” Crowley said. “After everything, there is very little that is unbelievable.”
They fell silent again for a while. . After a while, Aziraphale put a hand to his stomach and said, “Dear me, I am hungry.”
“Me, too,” Crowley said. “It feels like forever since I last ate.”
The two of them reached into their bags and found the bread that they got from Aldreda. Aziraphale’s bread was soggy, squished, and beyond edibility. Crowley’s bread, on the other hand, looked okay despite having been flattened. Crowley broke it in half, and handed one to Aziraphale before taking a bit of his own. The two of them ate in silence, and once they were done, they continued to not say anything.
Seemingly out of the blue, Crowley asked, “Angel, what exactly were you saying while we were in the valley?”
Aziraphale winced at the reminder. He thought and asked back, “What do you mean?”
“When you were pinning me down, you were repeating something over and over.”
This caused a bit of color to rise to his cheeks, and Aziraphale was glad that the lantern was not that bright. “You remember that?”
“Not much. Only bits and pieces. But I remember that part pretty clearly.”
Aziraphale cleared his throat and said, “It’s Latin. It means ‘The strength to overcome problems, the wisdom to solve complex trials, the courage to see hardships through to the end, and the moral integrity to always do what’s right.’”
Crowley nodded as if he had guessed that already. “So what is it? Some sort of chant?”
“Sort of. It was something that Father Martin said to people who were struggling, either physically, emotionally, or spiritually. He actually said it to me this morning before I left.”
Crowley nodded some more when he stopped, realization setting in. “You prayed for me?”
“Yeah,” Aziraphale said earnestly. “I thought you were going to die, and I figured that I could at least try to help you. I couldn’t just sit there and watch.”
Before, Crowley would’ve scoffed at such sentiment. Now, he found himself touched by this act of caring. He smiled and said, “Thanks, angel.”
“You’re welcome,” Aziraphale said. He tried to smile but eventually stopped and turned to look off into the distance, as if reflecting on some unpleasant memory.
Once again, Crowley recognized the look and asked, “What’s wrong?”
He waited, thinking that Aziraphale would lash out again, but instead, he took a deep breath and said, “I was thinking about what happened in the river.”
“Well that explains it. You nearly drowned.”
“No, it wasn’t that at all. I mean, maybe a little bit, but that’s not what I was thinking of.”
“Okay, then, what was it?”
Aziraphale paused for a second and said, “While I was underneath, there were voices surrounding me. They seemed to be everywhere at once.”
Crowley made a face at that. “That’s never a good sign. What did they say?”
“They said...they said the quest was hopeless. That we would never succeed. That the villagers would die before we returned. That even if we did manage to get the artifact, no one would thank us, or even appreciate us.”
“Angel, don’t tell me you actually believed that nonsense.”
“I didn’t,” Aziraphale lied. “But that wasn’t the worst part.” Aziraphale took a deep breath and said, “The voices said that you didn’t care about me. They said that you only spent time with me to avoid punishment, and that if I died you wouldn’t bat an eye.”
Crowley physically backed away at this, and Aziraphale was worried that he was mad. When he spoke, his voice was low, “Angel...do you actually think that -”
“No,” Aziraphale interrupted hurriedly. “I was just saying that that was what the voices said. I completely denied everything.”
Apparently he had some guilt on his face, for Crowley didn’t buy it. He leaned closer and said, “I want you to know that none of what that voice said is true. I do care about you, mysterious voices be darned.” Aziraphale smiled, and he continued in a more sedated tone. “And remember, even though I never show it, even if I irritate you with my snarky attitude and tiresome antics, I consider you a friend.”
Hearing all of this caused a weight to lift from Aziraphale’s shoulders. He leaned closer as well and said, “I know. And remember that no matter how much I lecture you, I also consider you a friend.”
Crowley also visibly relaxed, and he said, “Remember when we first met?”
“Yeah, that was a long time ago,” Aziraphale smiled again. “I had caught you pick-pocketing people, and you accused me of thinking of myself as a ‘perfect angel.’”
“And then the nickname stuck.” Crowley sat up more and asked, “Wait, you had worked at your uncle’s church for how long, then?”
“About a year or two. I was still new to the job and was not as well trained as I am now.”
“Same for me, except I was working at the tavern instead. I haven’t gained much more knowledge about work since then, except that nothing good happens after the eighth jug.”
Aziraphale frowned. “Wait, you were working at the tavern since you were eight?”
Crowley grew tense again, and his voice was brittle. “Yeah. What’s your point?”
“Nothing,” Aziraphale asked, knowing he had tread on dangerous ground. “It’s just that I was wondering why.”
“I already told you that the tavern owner took me in.”
“I know, but what about your parents?” Aziraphale asked. “I tell you about my past, yet you never talk about yours. I mean, it couldn’t be that bad, could it?”
For a long time, Crowley remained silent, and when he spoke, his voice was slow and steady. “When I was a young child, I lived with my mother and father. My father was a respected merchant, and my mother helped out around the house. We had a decent life, and no one could have foresaw the tragedy that would soon strike. To this day, I don’t know exactly what happened, but one day she died. Completely out of the blue. I still remember going home and seeing my father sitting there, crying to himself.”
Aziraphale felt his heart ache. However, he remained silent.
“Her death must’ve sparked something in him, because from that point on he started sliding down the slippery slope. He drank more and went to work less. It got to the point where he lost his job and spent almost every waking hour drunk. We had a rocky relationship, with alcohol only making it worse. We would get into yelling matches which ended in either me or him leaving the house for the rest of the night.
“One day, after a particularly bad fight, I left and vowed that I would never go back. I started going around the village, trying to see if I could get a job. At first no one offered me anything, only saying that I should go back to my father. It wasn’t until the tavern owner saw me and, knowing how I was getting along with my father, decided to take me in. I worked there for a couple of weeks, staying in the closet they keep on the first floor, before the owner said that he would rent me one of the rooms if I worked there full time. I started spending more time there and, in doing so, got to know some of the regulars.”
He looked up at Aziraphale and said, “Now you know why I keep getting into trouble. Why I never seem to catch on to your lectures.”
Aziraphale had a ‘eureka’ moment, but kept it internal. However, he still felt like there was something that was left out. “What about earlier in the morning? Did he yell at you then?”
Another pause, and then Crowley said, “I still remember it like it was an hour ago. Somehow he had managed to get past the tavern owner and barged into my room. I didn’t even realize it was him until he started talking, as I was too busy packing. I asked him what he was doing here, and if he was going to yell at me like he always did. But he didn’t.”
“What happened?” Aziraphale asked, worry filling his voice.
When Crowley answered, his voice trembled. “He said that at least I was doing something right for once. At least I was being useful instead of just a thorn in his side. I started to protest when he grabbed me, and he would’ve hit me, too, if the owner hadn’t overheard and demanded that he leave. When my dad resisted, he grabbed him and told me to run. I sprinted past the two of them, and I heard my dad shout about how I was a disappointment and a failure, that I always had been, and I always will be.”
By this point, Crowley was shaking, and Aziraphale whispered, “Crowley, dear, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that that had happened.”
“There’s a reason I never told you about my past, angel. Living it once was bad enough.”
Aziraphale said with his most reassuring voice, “Please, I’m begging you, don’t believe anything that he says. It -”
“How can I not?” Crowley exclaimed. “How can I not believe what he says when everyone refers to me as a hassle and a nuisance? Even you.”
This time, it was Aziraphale’s turn to be taken aback. “What? When did I -”
“Yesterday, with the messenger. You told him that I was so troublesome that I caused many unnecessary problems, and that you would ‘like it very much’ if I stopped.”
“I...I didn’t mean it that way. I was merely trying to say -”
“What? That you’ll only like me if I’m flawless? That you don’t want to spend time with me, but some perfect, idealized version of me?”
Aziraphale sat there, staring into Crowley’s eyes, which reflected his bitterness and sorrow, and instantly understood why he reacted the way he did after the meeting. All this time, he thought Crowley was mad because he was roped into the quest he wanted nothing to do with. In reality, the anger came from hearing his friend heavily imply in front of everyone that he would only accept him if he was perfect.
Aziraphale cautiously laid a hand on Crowley’s shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, Crowley. I didn’t know that would affect you so much. But that’s not what I meant.”
Crowley softened inside, but made no move to show it outside. “What did you mean?”
Aziraphale took a breath and said, “I said yesterday that I didn’t deal with crooks, and that’s true. However, I have watched Father Martin deal with them, and their situation is always bad. Either they go too far and realize too late, resulting in them spending the rest of their lives in guilt, or they don’t realize, and their loved ones have to watch as they slide further into the darkness. One way or another, it’s bad.
He gulped and continued. “I don’t want to see you going down that same road. I don’t want you to have to suffer the same fate they suffer. When I said that I would like it very much if you stopped, I didn’t mean it for my sake, I meant it for yours. Earlier I said that I would help you through thick and thin, and I will, but not just with the quest. Regardless of whether you decide to stay as you are or, as you say, become a ‘perfect angel,’ I will stand by you.”
A long and nerve wracking pause followed, and Aziraphale held his breath, wondering if he accidentally made things worse. He never would’ve anticipated Crowley’s reaction, which was to grab his hand and say, “Thank you, angel. For everything.”
“You, too, dear,” Aziraphale returned back, holding the hand. “Through thick and thin?”
“Through thick and thin.”
Aziraphale smiled, and the two of them sat there a bit longer. Eventually he said, “We talked for a long time, didn’t we?”
“Yep,” Crowley said, not sounding the least bit concerned. “Pretty much.”
Aziraphale stretched his legs, and actually felt his eyes start to droop a little.
Crowley looked over and said, “You’re getting tired? In here?”
“Yes,” Aziraphale said. “It’s been a long day. Haven’t travelled this far before.”
“Me, neither,” Crowley replied. He barely managed to stifle a yawn.
“Tell you what,” Aziraphale proposed, “Why don’t you rest a bit while I stay up and watch.”
“Watch for what?” Crowley asked, already taking longer blinks.
“Anything, to be honest. I’ll wake you up in a couple hours.”
Crowley nodded before lying down against the cave wall and closing his eyes. It wasn’t long before he dropped off, and soon he was sleeping peacefully.
Aziraphale watched for a bit before straightening up and looking around. The cave was completely still, and nothing could be heard from the darkness. His eyelids began to droop and, after listening to Crowley’s rhythmic breathing for some time, he lay down and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. The lantern light flickered for a bit, illuminating their sleeping forms, until it burned out and died, leaving the cave in total darkness.
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