“What? What?” Warlock demanded.
“It’s kissing again, you don’t want to hear it.” Agnes replied dismissively, going to close the book. She realized that the sky had gone dark, they had been reading for the entire day.
Before she could fully close the book however, she noted how Warlock had leaned forward, placing his hand on hers.
“I don’t mind so much.” He admitted quietly, gesturing for Agnes to continue reading.
“What are our liabilities?”
“There is but one working castle gate, and it is guarded by one hundred brutes.” Nina replied, gently pulling Crowley up so that they could peek over the wall. Frowning, Crowley allowed them to sit her back down behind the wall.
“And our assets?” Crowley asked, now flexing his feet.
“Your brains, Maggie’s strength, and my steel.” Nina replied confidently.
Crowley stared at her in shock before shaking his head. “That’s it? Impossible. If I had a month to plan, maybe I could come up with something. But this…”
“Jesus Nana! What did you read me this thing for?” Warlock all but shouted.
“You know, you’ve been very sick, and you’re taking this story very seriously.” Agnes shook her head. “I think we had better stop now.” She closed the book and began to stand.
Warlock shook his head frantically and reached forward, grabbing the edge of Agnes’ dress and pulling her back towards the chair. “No! I’m okay, I’m okay. Sit down, all right?” Warlock asked, hope at the edge of his voice.
“Okay.” Agnes sighed, sitting down and opening the book again. “All right, now, let’s see. Where were we? Oh yes. In the Pit of Despair.”
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.
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.
“Gabriel wasn’t supposed to be King? What does that mean?” Warlock asked curiously, and got visibly more upset. “And why is Aziraphale still going along with the wedding? Why hasn’t the wedding planning stopped? She can’t marry Gabriel. She has to marry Crowley, I’m sure of it. After everything that they’ve done for each other it wouldn’t be fair!”
“Well, who says life is fair? Where is that written? Life isn’t always fair. It’s ineffable.”
“I’m telling you, you’re messing up the story, now get it right!” Warlock cried out passionately, his hands balled into fists.
“Do you want me to go on with this?” Agnes asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes.” Warlock replied moodily.
“Alright then. No more interruptions. I think you’ll like this part actually, it takes place some years earlier…”
“This whole situation is a bit of a mess I’m afraid,” Aziraphale admitted with a brittle smile. “I have encountered a truth that brings both hope and despair as I wonder at the best path forward. They say that the course of true love never did run smooth, but I never expected things to be so complicated.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Muriel admitted as they stared worryingly at Aziraphale.
“Crowley lives, Muriel.” Aziraphale stated simply. “My true love lives, and yet I am slated to marry another. True love let us save each other in the fire swamp, and here I am, having thrown it away, treating it like garbage. I can only hope one day to apologize, to beg forgiveness, to right all of these wrongs.” Aziraphale whispered, wringing her hands together.
“Oh no, no please,” Warlock groaned.
“What’s the matter?” Agnes asked with a furrowed brow.
“They’re kissing again.” He grumbled. “Do we have to hear the kissing part?”
“You know, it’s not guaranteed, but someday you might not mind so much,” Agnes laughed.
The Man in Black crested over a hill and was surprised— or unsurprised, it was rather hard to tell with him— to find a picnic laid out. Princess Aziraphale sat munching on an apple, while Sandalphon laid unconscious on the grass beside her, his hands and feet bound in rope.
“Please, join us.” Aziraphale smiled at the Man in Black, as he approached cautiously. “I was just waiting for my abductor here to wake up. Would you like a glass of wine? It’s not a brilliant vintage, but it will do.”
“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.”