As You Wish Chapter Seven: I Would Not Say Such Things
This is chapter seven! To start reading from the beginning, check out Chapter One: True Love
Summary:
Warlock rarely got sick, all illnesses passing him by as though he was wholly immune, but today he felt surprisingly ill. Since his parents are at work and Nanny is on her honeymoon it’s up to his Nana Agnes to stay with him. Much more interested in video games than books, he is surprised to find himself enthralled in the book she has decided to read aloud.
—
Do you not know? True love is ineffable. Death cannot stop it, only delay it for a while.
A classic tale of true love, ineffability, adventure, and miracles. You might think you know the story, but there is more to this edition of The Princess Bride than meets the eye.
Chapter Preview:
Maggie helped Nina stand, which she did with no small amount of difficulty. “You don’t look so good,” Maggie told Nina as she gently supported them. Nina blew a raspberry in Maggie’s face, and she wrinkled her nose. “You don’t smell so good either.”
“Perhaps not.” Nina shrugged, pulling away from Maggie. “I feel fine.”
“Yeah?” Maggie asked, stepping back to let Nina stand on her own. She darted forward again almost immediately as Nina fell into a dead faint.
Author’s Note:
Ahhhhh we are getting so close to the end y’all!! CWs for this chapter include canon-typical levels of excessive alcohol use, brief domestic violence, and a small (like one paragraph) torture scene that is canon-typical for the movie. Details containing mild spoilers in end notes.
Many thanks again to TinyMoonDrops, skullfragments, sososomebody, and Nate for being my cheerreading squad as I worked on this fic, and special thanks to sososomebody for the AMAZING art of Aziraphale and Crowley as Buttercup and Westley.
Chapter Seven: I Would Not Say Such Things
It was the day before the wedding. Eric had been using his network to try to discover who was attempting to kill Aziraphale, but had come back with nothing. Well, nearly nothing. As far as they could determine, there was zero indication that the Guilderians had any interest in killing Aziraphale. Whoever it was that wished to kill her, it was undoubtedly an inside job, which meant that now more than ever they needed to make sure that she got away from the castle as soon as possible.
“If only we could find the people who helped kidnap me.” Aziraphale paced. “Sandalphon is dead, but while he left the other two behind, I do not think that Crowley killed Nina and Maggie. If we find them, we may be able to find who hired them.”
“Nina and Maggie are not necessarily uncommon names, though,” Muriel hummed as they continued adjusting Aziraphale’s wedding dress. It had been made by the palace tailor of course, but Aziraphale and Muriel had been making their own adjustments to the dress, and to the small clothes and petticoats that Aziraphale would be wearing beneath it. For one thing, the pockets had been adjusted to allow for Aziraphale to easily reach her most favored dagger. If someone in the castle wanted to kill her, she would not make it easy for them.
As the wedding approached, security around the castle was getting tighter than ever, and they were running out of options. It was Muriel, however, who had discovered the simplest one.
“Just remember, if you don’t say it, you won’t do it.” They reminded Aziraphale gently. “Things will work out, I’m sure of it.”
Aziraphale nodded as she wrung out her hands. The most straightforward solution was simultaneously the most risky and the most likely to work. She would never consent to marrying Gabriel, and while the laws of the land were not as fair as they should be when it came to the difference between the nobility of the common folk, no one could be forced into marriage.
When she believed Crowley to be dead she had no real problem with marrying Gabriel. Her parents and brother would have supported her, should she choose to live the rest of her life as a spinster. Yet staying in the place where she grew up, grew to love Crowley, was an impossible task as every step she took around her home reminded her of her loss. The only joy that remained in her life was reading, and the royal library was an excellent one. There were worse ways to spend the rest of her life until she could join Crowley, and so she had consented to the engagement.
Now that she knew Crowley was alive, however, she knew that there was no way that she could marry another. She had already rejected Gabriel, the Prince knew this. Yet her rejection had not been public or definitive. Refusing to say “I do” at that altar would send an unequivocal message to the public that she would not be marrying Gabriel.
Truthfully, the Prince could easily have this all stopped, but his pride had led him to believe that Aziraphale could be bullied.
The man was sorely mistaken.
Her biggest source of stress, now that she had settled upon the plan to leave Gabriel at the altar, was that there had been no sign of Crowley. For all that he had not been able to find the assassins, he had been able to get in contact with the crew of the Bentley, and there was no indication that Crowley had ever returned to them. Part of her feared that Crowley was truly dead now, that the Prince and the Count had murdered her love. Yet Aziraphale refused to give up on hope. She had let herself believe in Crowley’s death before and been wrong. If there is one thing she knew it was that Crowley would never give up on her, and she would never give up on Crowley.
—
Meanwhile, the Brute Squad had their hands full carrying out Gabriel’s orders. They had already rounded up the majority of the thieves, the whole lot of them shoved into wagons, many of them barely maintaining consciousness. Truthfully, Eric found it more than distasteful, but given how much he had already betrayed the prince, he felt it was better to keep to Gabriel’s orders when possible.
“Is everybody out?” Eric asked.
Hastur, one of the assistant leaders of the Brute Squad, grunted. “Almost. There’s a drunk Spaniard with a sword giving us some trouble.”
“Well you give them some trouble, move!” Eric shouted, holding back the bile he felt rising in his throat as he observed the chaos.
The wagon started, and Hastur took off back in the direction of where he had last seen the Spaniard.
It was Nina, of course, only slightly more drunk than usual as she stared off into the distance, sprawled in front of a rather dilapidated hovel. She held a near-empty bottle of brandy in one hand, her sword in the other.
“I have no self-respect, ha! Self centered am I?” Nina mumbled, taking another swig of brandy out the bottle, finishing the last of it. “Well here I am, back at the beginning! I only have myself to care for, anyway.” She paused, staring down at the bottle as if she might magically will it to fullness again. “I am waiting for you, Lindsay. Nothing left now, do I? This is where I am, and this is where I’ll stay.”
“Ho there!” Hastur called out.
Nina narrowed their eyes before scoffing. “I do not budge. Keep your “Ho there.” Despite the fact that Nina was drunk as a skunk, the way she waved her sword remained menacing.
“But the Prince gave orders—” Hastur began, but Nina cut him off dismissively.
“So did Sandalphon, so did Lindsay. When a job goes wrong, when a relationship goes wrong, you go back to the beginning. And this is where I began, my beginning. I am staying ‘til they come…” her voice grew faint as she slouched against the hovel once more.
“You! Brute! Come here.” Hastur shouted as he spotted a large figure in the trees.
Nina’s vision grew blurry as they felt a hand on their back. Surprisingly gentle, and larger than her own. Looking up she blinked as Maggie’s kind face came into view.
“Hello,” Maggie smiled, and Nina returned the smile.
“It’s you!”
“True!” Maggie smiled again, her hand a reassuring weight on Nina’s neck.
Hastur approached, and was on the verge of clubbing Nina’s head, but before he got the chance Maggie rose, standing in front of Nina protectively, and punching Hastur with enough force that he slammed into a tree.
Maggie helped Nina stand, which she did with no small amount of difficulty. “You don’t look so good,” Maggie told Nina as she gently supported them. Nina blew a raspberry in Maggie’s face, and she wrinkled her nose. “You don’t smell so good either.”
“Perhaps not.” Nina shrugged, pulling away from Maggie. “I feel fine.”
“Yeah?” Maggie asked, stepping back to let Nina stand on her own. She darted forward again almost immediately as Nina fell into a dead faint.
—
And so Maggie and Nina were reunited. The Brute Squad had cleared out, and so Maggie carried Nina to the nearby alehouse, empty after the rest of the thieves had been cleared out. She placed her down gently at one of the tables before busying herself in the kitchen, coming back out with a bowl of stew just as Nina was beginning to wake.
At Maggie’s gesturing, Nina obediently opened her mouth to let Maggie feed her the stew, small bites at a time. As she came to full awareness, Nina gently placed a hand on Maggie’s wrist to stop her from feeding another bite.
“Oh that does make such a good difference.”
“Shhh, take it easy love.” Maggie replied, though she did place the spoon back in the bowl. Nina had already ate the large majority of it anyway.
Nina’s heart skipped a beat, but she continued. “I’m so sorry for fainting before, but I’ve done nothing at all the past few weeks but drink and wait for Sandalphon or Lindsay to come back. Lindsay told me that I am a disgrace, that I am selfish. And so I waited. Not like me I know,” Nina laughed self-deprecatingly. “I also say to stand up for oneself, to make one’s own plans. But I found myself lost. A surprise like seeing you was too much on an empty stomach.” Nina shrugged.
“Good.” Maggie patted Nina on the back. “I know not of Lindsay, but Sandalphon, at least, is dead.”
Nina blinked in surprise before she dropped into another faint.
Maggie sighed and picked Nina up again, bringing her to one of the beds in a room above the kitchen. After laying Nina down carefully she left again. Only a few moments later she returned with a clean towel and a bowl of warm water. Carefully she began to wipe the sweat and grime from Nina’s face.
Nina’s eyes fluttered as she came to awareness again. “Oh that feels lovely.”
Maggie smiled again as she continued toweling Nina’s face. “I did hope so.”
“Ah, forgive me my friend. I underestimated what a horrible state I am in. But seeing you, hearing about Sandalphon, it was too much to process. Now, I am ready for anything.” Nina grinned.
“Lovely. Well, I have been in contact with people at the castle. I have discovered the truth for you— the six-fingered man is a member of the royal court in Florin, they are named Count Beelzebub, and live in the castle.”
Nina sat up quickly, staring in shock before falling back in a faint once more.
Maggie sighed as she gather more supplies. She rounded up two tubs, one of which she filled with water so hot it steamed, and the other with ice. Dragging Nina out of the bed she stood them up before grabbing carefully at Nina’s neck and briefly submerging Nina’s head in the cold water, Nina jumped in shock as she woke suddenly.
Grimacing, Maggie simply said “You’ll thank me for this some day.” Nina began to protest, but Maggie had already dunked her head into the steaming water.
As Nina came up for air she broke away from Maggie. “Enough!” Nina shouted, sparing a brief angry thought for what was likely the state of her hair after days of no maintenance followed by involuntary submersion in both hot and cold water.
“Where is this Beelzebub now so that I may kill them?” Nina demanded.
“They’re with the Prince in the castle. Everything is locked down until after the wedding tonight, and only one door remains unsealed, guarded by 30 members of the Brute Squad.” Maggie explained, handing Nina a towel as they dried themself.
Nina hummed, shaking herself into stronger awareness. “How many could you handle?” She asked, beginning to pace.
Maggie looked into space thoughtfully before replying. “They are the cream of the Brute Squad.. Probably no more than ten.”
Nina’s face screwed up into an expression of annoyance. “That leaves twenty for me, and even at my best I could never defeat that many. We must come up with a plan— who else could we ask? Do you have allies there? I do wish we still had Sandalphon and his eye for strategy, though perhaps we can make a plan of our own this time…”
“I have a few allies, but getting in contact will be difficult. Sandalphon is dead, and so we must do this without him.” Maggie caught Nina’s hand in her own, putting a stop to Nina’s pacing. They were silent for a moment before Nina’s eyes lit up.
“Oh! It is not Sandalphon we need— we need the man in black!” Nina insisted wildly, tightening their grip on Maggie’s hand in her exceptment.
“What?” Maggie asked in confusion.
“He bested you with strength, he bested me with steel. And he out-thought Sandalphon. Any man who can do all of that can help us plan our attack!”
“The rumors do say that he is the Princess’ true love…” Maggie replied thoughtfully.
Nina made a dismissive, though not unkind, gesture as she bent down to make sure her boots were tied securely. “Tell me later, let’s go—”
“Go where?” Maggie interrupted, confused.
“To find the man in black of course!” Nina exclaimed, jumping up. “Do try to keep up!”
“But we don’t know where he is.” Maggie replied, brow furrowed.
“Don’t bother me with trifles!” Nina snapped, grabbing her sword and making for the door. “After twenty years, at last, my mother’s soul will be at peace.” A manic look was taking over Nina’s face as she shouted with relish: “There will be blood tonight!”
She dashed out the door, Maggie following slowly, a weight dragging at her heart. “Blood. But whose?”
—
It was the early morning on the day of the wedding, and the Prince was in his office, organizing paperwork as usual. A small knock came at the door, and at Gabriel’s lack of response, Eric let himself in before kneeling at the desk.
“Rise and report.” Gabriel intoned, not looking up from his papers.
Eric rose from where he had been kneeling for what was an annoying amount of time for his knees.
“The Thieves’ Quarter is shuttered, your majesty. Thirty people guard the castle gate.”
“Double it.” Gabriel ordered, still not looking up from his papers. “My Princess must be safe.”
“The gate has but one key,” Eric replied, showing how it dangled from his neck.
Gabriel finally looked up, and spotted Aziraphale coming through the door. Smiling, he stood up and walked around the desk, holding out his arms in pleasure as he addressed her. “Ah! My dulcet darling.” Aziraphale’s face briefly twisted into a grimace before she schooled it into a neutral and bland expression. “Tonight we marry. Tomorrow morning, my men will escort us to the Florin Channel, where every ship in my armada waits to accompany us on our honeymoon.”
Aziraphale did her best not to roll her eyes at the sheer impracticality, before she fully comprehended what he had said.
“Every ship but your four fastest, you mean.” She replied pointedly. Gabriel’s face was completely blank, and Aziraphale felt a rising fury at this absolute buffoon of a man, who couldn’t even keep track of his own lies. If one was going to be a bastard they should at least do it properly. “Every ship but the four you sent.” She replied, putting an immense pressure on her words.
A light dawned in Gabriel’s eyes as he replied hastily. “Yes. Yes, of course. Naturally not those four.”
Aziraphale’s face grew hot, and Eric’s gaze flitted back and forth between the two of them before he bowed hastily. “Your majesties.”
Neither Gabriel or Aziraphale acknowledged Eric as they fled the room, instead staring into each other’s eyes. Gabriel straightened his back and his hands flexed automatically as he registered Aziraphale’s glare.
“You never sent the ships, did you?” Aziraphale asked flatly. She had known already, of course, but the audacity of Gabriel to not even pretend to uphold his own lies was infuriating. Breathing out carefully, Aziraphale flexed her own fingers. “It doesn’t matter. Crowley will come for me anyway.”
There was a confidence in Aziraphale’s voice that she privately admitted she did not actually have, but hope is a powerful weapon in the hands of someone empowered by love.
“You’re a silly girl.” Gabriel spat the words, and Aziraphale straightened her spine, taking a deep breath.
“Yes. I am a silly girl, for not having seen sooner that you are nothing but a coward with a heart full of fear.”
“I would not say such things if I were you.” Gabriel growled, stepping closer to Aziraphale.
She refused to back away, instead narrowing her eyes at Gabriel, her voice growing firm. “Why not? You cannot hurt me. Crowley and I are joined by the bonds of love. And you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds. And you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords.” It was Aziraphale who stepped closer to Gabriel this time, her voice almost hissing in the same way that Crowley’s would when they were overcome with emotion. “And when I say you are a coward, that is only because you are the slimiest weakling ever to crawl the earth.”
Gabriel stepped back instinctively at her sneer, before his own fury overtook him and he grabbed firmly at Aziraphale’s hair, wildly out of control as he dragged her out of the room. “I WOULD NOT SAY SUCH THINGS IF I WERE YOU!” He shouted, pulling her down the corridor before throwing her bodily into her own quarters, locking the door from the outside.
Aziraphale gasped as she righted herself, looking around her room. That expression of violence was more than she had ever witnessed from Gabriel, and the pieces began to fall together in her mind as it occurred to her just who it was that could be responsible for the threats against her life.
Breathing heavily, she curled up onto herself on the floor, wishing she had left the castle when she had the chance. She had known that marrying the Prince would be a mental and emotional death of her own self. She had not realized until now just how much that could reach into the physical realm.
—
Meanwhile, Gabriel was running through the castle at a frantic pace, ignoring all who called out to question him. Improbably soon he reached the copse of trees that hid the entrance to the pit of despair, slamming his hand on the knot that would open the tunnel. Rushing in he barely noticed Beelzebub at the desk, instead zeroing in on Crowley, who was once again hooked up to The Machine. It was not on, but the way that Crowley’s body was shaking indicated it had not been off for long.
Gabriel stopped in front of Crowley, his glare of unbridled loathing almost palpable in the air. He drew closer, his sneer somehow both a whisper and a shout. “You truly love each other, and so you might have been truly happy. Not one couple in a century has that chance, no matter what the storybooks say. And so I think no person in a century will suffer as greatly as you will.”
Looking up, Gabriel’s wild eyes spotted the lever to the machine, grasping it firmly as he shoved it up to its highest setting.
“Not to fifty!” Beelzebub shouted, but their words were lost as Crowley let out the loudest and most agonizing scream that anyone in Florin had ever heard. It echoed improbably far, through the forest, through the castle, and all who heard it were rocked back at the force of it. Most listened with horror, but the only expression on Gabriel’s face was a sick and twisted glee.
CW Details:
– Maggie finds Nina in the thieves forest, where they are completely wasted, and nurses them back to sobriety
– Gabriel gets furious at Aziraphale insulting him, and in his rage, he drags her out of the room by her hair before locking her in her quarters
– After this, Gabriel goes to the pit of despair and turns the torture machine to it’s highest setting, and is disturbingly pleased to bee doing so.