Happy Holidays, vulgarweed!

[goe_mod]

Title: A Man Upon The Land
Rating: T (mild violence and a mention of a child in danger)
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
PAIRING/PLOT BUNNY/RATING: Something nautical themed! Put Aziraphale and Crowley and/or the rest of the crew on a ship for some reason, any historical period. Pirates, explorers, merchants, navy...Or merpeople AUs, or involve Shape of Water or Shadow Over Innsmouth-type fishperson creatures or have shenanigans in an aquarium, or have a transparent excuse for tentacle action. The point is...dolphins! Any rating.
Folklore! Any of the GO cast in a folklore inspired setting, a retelling/remix of a myth or fairy tale. (A/C a plus but I would welcome any characters)
Author’s note: Happy holidays! I decided to combine two of your prompts to tell a bit of a subversion of selkie folklore. I hope you like it!
Summary: Captain Anthony Crowley agrees to escort mysterious cartographer Aziraphale on a nautical heist, but is Aziraphale all that he seems?

The sounds of music and laughter could be heard even down below in the cargo hold. Aziraphale sat in the near dark, illuminated only by the oil lamp sitting atop one of the crates. In his hands was a well-worn cloth bound book. To most people the book wouldn’t be particularly interesting. It was a dry and clinical book on the types of flora that grew in the dry and mountainous earth of the mainland. To Aziraphale, however, it was absolutely enchanting. Having never traveled far away from the ocean, the workings of the landlocked world was fascinating.

Tonight, however, it seemed as if focusing on his book would be an impossibility. Singing had joined in with the music and Aziraphale couldn’t help but be a bit curious as to what the sailors were doing above deck. Aziraphale marked his place in the book with a thin ribbon before picking up the small oil lamp and making his way out into the crisp night air.

The sounds of partying grew louder as he climbed the stairs and by the time, he reached the deck he could see the celebration was in full swing. The sailors were congregated at the forecastle, illuminated by moonlight and a small contained fire. They hadn’t seemed to have noticed him and Aziraphale took this opportunity to watch as they danced. They seemed to be having fun and Aziraphale found himself tapping his foot to the sounds of fiddles.

It was when he began to hum along that he realized he’d been spotted. The captain was leaning against the foremost mast of the ship, golden eyes closed until a moment ago. Right now, however, they were locked on where Aziraphale stood in front of the stairs down below.

“Surprised to see you out here,” he said over the music, “I was going to send someone to check on you in a bit.” He pushed himself away from the mast and slowly made his way towards Aziraphale. “It’s not good for you to spend so much time below deck. It’s easy to go mad that way.”

Captain Crowley was indescribably handsome as men went. He was tall, and a life at sea had given him a rugged, rough sort of quality. His skin was a deep brown, just slightly lighter than Aziraphale’s own, and his thick dark hair, which was usually tied out of the way by a green ribbon, was flowing freely in the night wind. He had the sort of smile that Aziraphale was sure set all hearts aflutter whenever they docked at port. He had to admit it did the same for him.

Aziraphale ignored the comment Crowley had made - while his voice seemed sincere, there was something in his smile that made Aziraphale almost feel as if he was being teased. “I heard the celebration and was curious what it was about,” he said, looking over Crowley’s shoulder to the party at the bow.

“Oh? It’s not really about anything I guess.” Crowley said as he looked back at the party. “It’s good for morale to celebrate sometimes, even when there’s nothing to celebrate.” Crowley paused for a moment before he added, “It can get lonely on the sea. It’s good for us to remember that we’re not alone on this ship.”

Crowley gestured for Aziraphale to follow him as he made his way to starboard railing of the ship. He leaned heavily against the dark wood, staring up at the night sky before speaking. “You know, you never really told me why all this is so important to you. Even if you do know how to get to it, the St Gabriel isn’t exactly in the safest part of the sea.” The St Gabriel had been one of the most successful pirate ships on the sea. Both pirates and sailors alike claimed that the crew seemed to have almost supernatural luck. There were rumors that the luck was, in fact, supernatural, and the ship had gotten its hands on something powerful. However, it had vanished without a trace a month ago.

“Something important was stolen from me and I believe it’s currently on the St Gabriel. I’ve been searching for it for a long time, and when I heard you had a ship, I couldn’t let this chance slip by. Anyways, I could ask you the same question. The way you talk it sounds as if it’s the most treacherous part of the sea.”

Crowley shrugged. “Money’s money. Besides, there’s something thrilling about the idea of sneaking in right under the King in Yellow’s nose.” The way Crowley almost spat the name made Aziraphale wonder if he had a history with the famous pirate ship. The way to the St Gabriel would put them right in the middle of the King in Yellow’s territory, and its captain was known for being territorial.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of them as they watched the festivities. Aziraphale was about to say something when another song began, a lighthearted song with a fast-paced beat.

“Dance with me,” Crowley invited, flashing another smile.

Aziraphale quickly shook his head. “I can’t dance. I’ve never tried.”

Crowley held out a hand and said, “That doesn’t matter. I’m terrible at dancing myself, but it’s fun.”

Aziraphale looked down at the offered hand and back up at Crowley’s face. His smile was genuine and the look in his eyes seemed hopeful. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out and taking Crowley’s hand in his. Crowley beamed as he gently pulled him closer to the forecastle, staying at the edge as if he sensed Aziraphale’s discomfort with the rather large crowd.

Crowley’s palms were rough from years of working on a ship. Aziraphale could almost feel the marks left from hoisting heavy lines. However, he was gentle as he pulled Aziraphale closer to him, wrapping one arm around his middle. “Follow my lead,” he whispered into Aziraphale’s ear before he began to move along with the beat. Aziraphale looked over Crowley’s shoulder to see that several other sailors had begun to pair up and dance. Aziraphale found himself smiling as he moved with Crowley, carefully matching his steps as they spun around the deck together.

“For someone who’s never danced, you’re not doing too badly,” Crowley said with a grin.

“I supposed you’re right. After all, I’ve only stepped on your shoes twice,” Aziraphale replied as Crowley twirled him.

“Hardly felt it the second time, so I’d say that’s an improvement.”

Aziraphale laughed as he let himself be pulled ever closer as the song began to slow. “What a gentleman you are,” he said.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone. I have an image I need to maintain with the crew. They’ll never take me seriously otherwise.”

“Have no fear. Your secret is safe with me.”

It took Aziraphale a moment to realize the music had finished and Crowley had stopped moving. The party seemed to be drawing to a close as one by one the sailors began to make their ways below deck. A few stopped to say goodnight to Crowley and to express happiness that Aziraphale had joined them before the night was up.

The comfortable silence from before returned, but there was something different. Crowley was smiling at Aziraphale again, but this time there was something else in his eyes. The hand resting on Aziraphale’s hip dropped away but Crowley hadn’t let go of his hand. He held it gently, fingers moving to intertwine.

“I’m glad you joined us tonight,” Crowley said, his voice quiet and sincere.

Aziraphale’s cheeks felt warm as he said, “I just thought I could read those old books any night and I wanted to know what you were all doing up here.”

Crowley smiled. “Were we more interesting than those old books?” he asked.

“I’d say so.” Aziraphale smiled back. It was just the two of them left on the deck, he was shocked to realize.

Crowley was silent for a moment as they stood there, so close to one another that Aziraphale could feel the warmth of Crowley’s chest. Slowly, carefully, Crowley brought his free hand up to gently brush one of Aziraphale’s dark auburn curls behind his ear. His fingers lingered against his cheek. The silence between them took on a different feeling, a deeper one, as Aziraphale stared into Crowley’s eyes. The look in his eyes was more pronounced and now Aziraphale could easily recognize it as longing.

“I should go. It won’t be long before I’ll have to get up and make breakfast,” Aziraphale said as he pulled away.

Crowley almost didn’t respond, staring at the space where Aziraphale had been before letting his hand fall to his side. “Yeah. Same here. Morning will be here soon.” He flashed Aziraphale one last winning smile before disappearing below, leaving Aziraphale alone on the deck.

They found the St Gabriel completely deserted. The glittering hull of the beautiful ship was unmistakable. They had just started to board when the King in Yellow appeared on the horizon. It was massive; larger even than Crowley remembered. He barely had a chance to react before a heavy cannonball struck the side of the Bentley, causing it to shudder violently.

“Fuck it. Everyone pull back. We have to get out of here,” Crowley yelled, trying to push the panic that was rising in his throat back down before it overwhelmed him.

It was at that moment that he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned, one part amazed, the other part horrified as he watched Aziraphale grab one of the lines from the ship and, without a word, swing himself over the ocean between to land heavily on the deck of the St Gabriel.

“Aziraphale!” he shouted, as he watched the man look around quickly before dashing into the captain’s quarters.

Against the fear, against the panic, Crowley followed. As the line Aziraphale had used swung back, Crowley grabbed it tightly with both hands before hoisting himself across. To Crowley’s horror, it was in that moment that the King in Yellow unleashed a flaming arrow. The arrow sunk into the wood, and Crowley watched as the fire spread, eating away at the deck, bit by bit. He looked up to see more coming. He ran after Aziraphale, determined to get him off the ship before anything else could go wrong.

Crowley kicked open the door to the captain’s quarters to find the room in complete disarray. In the center of the mess was Aziraphale. He was currently in the process of tossing the contents of a large oak trunk all over, desperately looking for something.

“Aziraphale we have to go. This ship is going up in flames.” He tried to grab Aziraphale’s arm, but he yanked himself away before Crowley’s fingers could get a grip.

“I can’t leave yet. It’s here; I know it’s here. I just need to find it.” Aziraphale was panting. His long hair was a mess and sweat caused dark red strands to stick to his forehead. “Please, it’ll only be a moment. Please, Crowley,” he begged.

Crowley felt helpless as he watched him turn away to continue his search. He didn’t even know what Aziraphale was looking for. He began to pace the room, having nothing else to do. The captain’s quarters of the St Gabriel were spacious and probably once exquisitely decorated. It was impossible to tell how long the ship had been sitting here, empty and adrift. In another situation, Crowley might have busied himself looking through the cabinets that lined the walls. For right now, it was all he could do to keep from screaming.

It was as he walked past the heavy wooden desk that sat in the center of the room that he heard a distinctive creak from the floorboards. Looking down, he could see that the board he had just stepped on was a different shape and size from the ones surrounding it. As he moved his foot, it shifted under his weight. He glanced quickly over at Aziraphale, who had now begun to tug drawers out of one of the cabinets.

The board lifted away easily as he slipped his fingers between the gaps surrounding it and pulled. Underneath was a surprisingly large stash of items. It was clear that this was where the Captain had kept his money but that wasn’t what caught Crowley’s eye. Nestled alongside the gold was what looked like a fur coat.

Crowley felt almost drawn to the cloak as he reached into the hole and pulled it out. As far as Crowley could tell from the markings, it appeared to be sealskin. It was covered in dark speckles and was inexplicably warm to the touch. It took Crowley a moment to realize that the sound of Aziraphale shuffling around the room had stopped. He turned to find Aziraphale staring at him, eyes wide and hands almost shaking.

“Is, I mean, is this what you were looking for?” Crowley asked, lifting the sealskin higher to give Aziraphale a better look. Aziraphale nodded wordlessly. He was about to take a step towards Crowley before an arrow sailed through one of the windows of the captain’s quarters. It easily set fire to the mess of papers that now filled the room.

“We have to go,” Crowley yelled, throwing the sealskin over his shoulder before grabbing Aziraphale’s hand and rushing towards the door. This time Aziraphale did not resist and let himself be pulled back onto the deck.

The deck of the St Gabriel was covered in flames. Crowley brought the hand not currently holding Aziraphale’s up to cover his mouth, trying to block out some of the smoke. To starboard he could see the dark hull of the Bentley, his crew watching from the railing. The St Gabriel had drifted away from the Bentley while they had been in the captain’s quarters, but even from this far away Crowley could see the horror on their faces. He needed to get out of here now, and he needed to take Aziraphale with him.

“Crawly.” Crowley whipped around as he heard a familiar voice. Standing before him, seemingly wreathed in flames, was the captain of the King in Yellow, Hastur.

“Nice to see you again,” Crowley said, slowly edging towards the railing. “We really should meet up some time, but I really should go.”

“You have something of mine,” Hastur said, pointing to the sealskin currently draped over his shoulder. “If you hand it over, I’ll even let you live.”

Crowley let go of Aziraphale’s hand for a moment to push him behind him before saying, “And if I refuse?”

Hastur said nothing but drew his sword. He pointed it at Crowley and then at Aziraphale behind him.

Crowley’s hand went to his own sword. He’d never been much of a fighter, but he wasn’t about to let Hastur gut him and certainly wasn’t about to let him lay a hand on Aziraphale.

Before he could draw his sword, Crowley felt the weight of the sealskin lift from his shoulder. He turned in confusion to see Aziraphale wrapping himself up in it. Once the fur seemed secured, Aziraphale grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the railing with strength Crowley did not know he possessed.

“You need to trust me, my dear and hold on tight,” Aziraphale said, looking up at him with dark eyes that seemed almost black. There was something in his voice that hadn’t been there before. It was something almost ancient. Crowley couldn’t speak but he nodded slowly and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s middle. Crowley held tight to Aziraphale and watched in horror as Aziraphale hoisted himself over the edge of the ship dove into the ocean below, bringing Crowley with him.

Crowley heard Hastur scream something for a moment before his ears were filled with the song of rushing wind. He squeezed Aziraphale tighter as he panicked. He was going to drown - he was going to fucking drown. Despite his panic, he managed to maintain a hold on Aziraphale even as they hit the water with a loud splash.

They floated for a moment, completely immersed underwater. Crowley had closed his eyes before they hit the water and didn’t dare open them yet. He felt his orientation shift and realized quickly that Aziraphale was trying to swim to the surface. He kicked his legs weakly to help as he felt Aziraphale pull him upward at a speed that would have been amazing if Crowley could have focused on anything other than the pain in his lungs and his fear of drowning.

He felt his head crest the surface and quickly took in gulp after gulp of air. It was only then that he opened his eyes to discover that Aziraphale was gone. Instead, in his arms was a rather chubby looking seal with speckled fur and dark, dark eyes.

The seal stared at him for a moment before barking softly and pulling him towards the Bentley. As they reached the ship Crowley watched in absolute awe as the seal began to shift before his eyes. It only took a moment, and before he could blink, the seal was gone, and in its place was Aziraphale, still wrapped tightly in the sealskin.

“Selkie,” was all Crowley could say before a line unfurled from the deck of the Bentley. Crowley grabbed the line before turning to Aziraphale. He was hesitating, eyes uncertain as he stared between Crowley and the rope. Wordlessly, Crowley held out his arm and almost instantly Aziraphale shot forward to wrap his arms tight around Crowley before the two of them were hoisted up onto the ship.

“So, you’re a selkie.” Crowley said as he stood in the doorway of Aziraphale’s quarters. When Aziraphale had first come aboard, offering his skills as a cartographer and cook in exchange for safe passage to the St Gabriel, he’d requested his own cabin. They’d converted one of the smaller cargo rooms into a bedroom for him, picking up a bed the next time they’d been in port. Aziraphale had filled the tiny room with sentimental items, covering every inch of flat surface in the room with books about land. At the time, Crowley had found it peculiar that Aziraphale seemed to be so fascinated with something so mundane, but now it made a little more sense.

Aziraphale was sitting on his bed with his sealskin resting in his lap. He was gently petting its fur with a small smile on his face. “I suppose you could call me that,” he said, looking up to stare at Crowley with wide, dark eyes.

Question after question flooded Crowley’s mind as he stood there. He wanted to know how many other selkies there were or if Aziraphale was alone. He wanted to know why he never told him or anyone on the ship. However, there was a question that seemed more pressing at the moment.

“How’d you lose your cloak? I thought selkies…” He trailed off, worried about offending Aziraphale.

“I gave it away. Not on purpose, though,” Aziraphale said, patting the soft fluffy quilt next to him as if beckoning Crowley to sit with him. Crowley obliged and sat down, waiting for him to continue. “I was trapped in a cave about five years ago with a young human couple. They were traveling north, and I don’t think they’d expected the blizzard any more than I did. They’d only just had a baby and the poor thing had nearly turned blue from the cold. Even the fire we’d built didn’t seem to warm them. So, I did the only thing I could do. I offered them my cloak, telling them to wrap their little one up tight to keep them warm. I suppose they didn’t realize it wasn’t a present because when I woke the next morning the couple was gone, along with my sealskin. I’ve been hunting for it ever since.”

“That was kind of you,” Crowley said before he could stop himself. “I’m sure you saved that child’s life.”

Aziraphale genuinely smiled at that. Crowley marveled for a moment at just how wonderful a smile it was. “Thank you dear. I’ve always hoped so. And I suppose some good has come out of it. I got to see land and travel among people. I’ve learned wonderous things.” Aziraphale paused for a moment, reaching out to rest his hand against Crowley’s. His hand was soft and warm to the touch. “And I had a chance to meet you.”

“What will you do now?” Crowley asked, moving to hold Aziraphale’s hand. “You can go anywhere now.”

Aziraphale seemed to think for a moment before saying, “I want to go up north again. Up to Sule Skerry. I was part of a herd there and I’m sure they miss me terribly. After that, I’m not quite sure.”

Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand gently. “That sounds like it would be a long trip. It could be dangerous traveling there all alone.” He leaned closer as he spoke. “Perhaps we could accompany you there.”

Aziraphale beamed. “I’d like that,” he said. “I’d like that a good deal.” They were so close that Crowley could feel his nose gently brush Aziraphale’s. His smiling lips looked soft and inviting and Crowley looked into Aziraphale’s eyes, which seemed just as inviting, before closing the gap between them.