Tight Trouser Never Won Fair Angel

Chapter Six (All Roads Lead To Somewhere)

-/-

Crowley had implied that Aziraphale had gotten farther into the labyrinth than he'd thought, so Aziraphale took that as a sign that he was making good progress. Crowley's warning about not being anywhere near the tower was dismissed; no matter how close he got, Crowley was sure to insist that he wasn't making any progress at all.

As he walked, he kept his eye out for any more nuns, and for Sister Mary specifically, but it wasn't nuns he saw first; rather, he came to a fork in the path. Almost literally, in fact: the road shot off in four directions from where he sat, looking a bit like an actual fork. Knowing what he did of Crowley now, he suspected this was deliberate. It struck him as the sort of thing Crowley would find funny. [1]

Guarding each path was one of four identical goblins. They were all pretty, in a boy-band sort of way, with hair that seemed to invoke... ears, perhaps? Or horns? He wasn't sure, and felt it might be rude to ask.

"Heigh-ho, Master Fairy," said the one at the far end, and the one at the opposite end to him added, "Which path shall you choose, Master Fairy?", the call then being taken up by another, with, "For four paths stand before you, but you are yet one, and can only choose one to take."

"That's a good question," Aziraphale said. "I suppose there's some sort of puzzle or trick to it."

He was careful not to frame it as a question. The trick could be the number of questions he could ask, and he didn't want to waste his.

The fourth one, who hadn't spoken yet, said, "Each path will take you to a different part of the garden. Each path will take you closer to the tower, and also farther away. Each path is a test: the test of courage, the test of might, the test of will, and the test of testing well."

"Ooh, that one sounds promising."

"Choose you my road, then?" asked the one on the end.

"No no, let me think a moment." He waved them away, and checked the timer as he considered his options. Seven and a half hours. Time was running short, he didn't have long to think.

The test of might he didn't like the sound of. Without his magic he would need to rely solely on the strength of his body, and a lifetime of decadence and indulgence had left him pleasantly soft.

The test of courage would probably show him his greatest fear, he suspected; it was an old Fae trick, and even if he knew the illusion was an illusion, he didn't particularly relish facing his fears even in a fantasy.

The test of will he could probably pass. His will was iron-strong: he had one goal in mind, and one goal only, and that was saving Adam. Anything else he might be tempted by would not draw him away from his goal.

The test of testing well- he didn't know what to expect from that. And right now, the unexpected was something he would prefer to avoid.

"I choose..." There was only one he could be sure of passing, wasn't there? "I choose the test of will."

As he said the words, the four boy-band goblins merged, as did their roads, leaving behind one singular pathway. The goblin(s?) stepped to one side and bowed him onto the road.

"Good luck," they said, and spoke with four identical voices layered on top of each other, and then a single voice added, much lower, "You'll need it."

-/-

Despite the ominous warning, for a while the path appeared harmless. The path itself was a hill between two ditches, running between another line of trees that formed a firm wall on either side. Their roots grew up into the path, forming a kind of walkway that he marvelled at. He didn't exactly make a habit of hanging out in goblin cities, but he suspected none other were so creatively built as Crowley's.

As he walked along, the trees began to thin out and the path to widen, until, quite without warning, he came out at the base of the tower. He stopped short, stunned a little. Had he reached it already? In less than half the time?

Tentatively, he pushed open the door, and felt a sense of vertigo that told him that while the door to the tower was at its base, the entrance led into the highest room.

Inside that room were Crowley and Adam: Crowley, sprawled on a soft couch, Adam, asleep on his chest while he sang a soft lullabye to him. Aziraphale's heart thudded to a halt in his chest, but before he could say anything Crowley spotted him and his face split into a wide grin.

"Aziraphale!" He said. He got to his feet in one fluid motion, setting Adam down on the couch and shh shh ing him when he fussed a bit over the transfer. Once the boy was calm, Crowley turned back to Aziraphale and grabbed his and, pulling him close and dancing them in a circle.

"You made it," Crowley said. "And with this much time to spare! Knew you had it in you."

"Um. Yes. Rather."

Crowley spun him around, Aziraphale following along in a dazed sort of way. "So how did you get past the test of will?"

"I'm not sure," he answered. "I was walking down the path, waiting for the test, and then I reached the tower."

"Huh. That's weird." Crowley considered this for a moment, scrunching his face up as he looked out into the labyrinth with his awareness of his realm. After a moment he returned to their own space and shrugged. "Must be broken."

"Lucky for me," Aziraphale said, frowning. Something seemed off. "I, er. I suppose I'll just. I'll be taking my godson now."

"You can't," Crowley said, and then added very hastily, "I mean, I guess you can, but, well. You've still got half your time left. Sure you don't want to- I dunno- stay? For a bit? Spend a little more time with me?"

"I beg your pardon, but I have no intention of allowing my godson to remain any longer in this realm than necessary."

"Right, right! Of course, didn't even think of that- all right, hold on-" He waved a hand, and Adam vanished from the couch. Aziraphale gave a shout of concern, and made to run towards- well, where he'd been, anyway- but Crowley's hand in his pulled him back. "He's safe, I sent him home. Stay a bit longer, Aziraphale? We can- we can talk! I can show you more of my labyrinth. That chattering nun took you on a shortcut so you didn't even get to see all the things I had prepared for you. Come on, what do you say?"

"I don't know," Aziraphale fretted. Something wasn't right here. "I'm not really..."

"Aziraphale," the goblin king said in a low, dangerous voice. "You are in my city. You are still powerless. Think very carefully about your answer."

Aziraphale froze. "You're not real."

Crowley's eyes widened. "Of course I'm real!" The dangerous shadow pulled away, revealing a sunnier smile again. "I just- I really want you to stay! We could be brilliant together, you and me, I know you're attracted to me, we can be- you know, we can just, we can be together. Keep each other company. Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't you like some company?"

He would like some company, was the thing. He liked humans and he loved Adam, and he had lots of human friends and acquaintances, but none of them were really the same as having another Fae king around. He didn't even have any inhabitants to his realm, even if lesser Fae and stolen humans weren't much more of an option.

And there was no way for Crowley to know this, unless the Crowley in front of him was an illusion basing itself on his heart's desire.

Unless Crowley was lonely too, a part of his mind told him. He couldn't be the only Fae king to be lonely for the company only another Fae king could provide.

"Hey," the illusion asked in a soft voice, and part of his heart broke. Was this an illusion? "Talk to me, Aziraphale," he said-

-and Aziraphale knew .

"You're not real," he repeated, more firmly this time, pulling away from the illusion still grasping for him. "You are an illusion and I will not be taken in by your tricks!"

For a long, tense few seconds, Aziraphale expected the illusion to refuse, and then it grinned rather nastily at him and the room, and illusory Crowley, shattered, falling away and leaving Aziraphale falling into nothingness.

-/-

[1- He was correct.]