Happy Holidays, ri-writing!
Dec. 3rd, 2021 05:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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go_exchangeTitle: Else
Recipient: riwriting
Rating: PG
Summary: Not everything can be affected by miracles and demons' expectations. Crowley braves one of his fears for Aziraphale's sake.
Sometimes Crowley regretted inspiring the invention of the telephone. Sure, it was a great tool of evil and frustrated millions of people every day. Unfortunately it was also very good at frustrating at least one demon that just wanted to get a little bit of practical sloth in.
Since it takes quite a lot of work to undo past mistakes, Crowley decided to roll over and let the answering machine handle the matter.
"Crowley? Are you there?"
Aziraphale knew him much too well. He couldn't see him through the phone, though. Just because he wasn't picking up didn't have to mean that he was at home and ignoring the phone.
"It's just that I'm in a spot of trouble here and really, really need your help."
Oh da... ble... whatever! Crowley miracled the phone next to the couch and picked up the receiver.
"Alright alright, what's the problem?"
"Well ... Do you remember that little temptation you asked me to take care of for you? The one on Wangerooge?"
Crowley shuddered.
"Of course. Blessed idyllic German island where they forbid all cars and call it a tourist attraction."
"It is a lovely place, dear. Very quiet, good food. You really ought to give it a chance someday. But anyway, the temptation. I'm here. I've done the job, but now I'm stuck in the man's hotel."
"So what? Just sign out and come back home," Crowley said, quite confused. "Or take another hotel and take a holiday, if you like the place so much. Call me up when you get back in town."
"No, you don't understand. I can't leave. There's a Duke of Hell lurking just outside the door. He's been here for over a day and is giving no sign of wanting to take a break."
"Evil is ever vigilant," Crowley stated. "Except for this little bit."
"Yes, quite." Aziraphale sounded just a touch pissed off. "And that larger bit of it is being vigilant right at the only exit from this building. What do you think it will do if an angel just walks right past it? I am no match for a Duke of Hell, Crowley. You've got to come and get him out of the way. Just long enough for me to get out."
Go to Wangerooge? The place was full of horses and Crowley hated horses at least as much as horses hated Crowley. And he'd probably have to ride one to even get to that hotel.
"Look, I ... I can't get away very well right now. And how would I even explain my presence on Wangerooge?"
"Why, easily: You're there to do the temptation I just performed. Hell ordered you to do it and they'd better not have any idea that you asked me to do it for you, or we'd both be in very hot water."
Well, technically Aziraphale would probably be on very hot hell-fire and Crowley in very deadly holy water ... at least if the information leaked to Heaven as well. Knowing Hell's bureaucracy it eventually would.
"Can't you just wait it out?" Crowley suggested. "They've got good food in there, right? And he can't keep lurking there forever. He must have more important evil to do. Whatever he's waiting for must happen sooner or later and then he'll go away."
"I've got to get back to London, Crowley. Gabriel is due to arrive for my millennial performance review any day now. And what could I tell him that I was doing on Wangerooge? I'm not supposed to be here, Crowley. You are."
Bless it!
"Alright, alright, I'm coming. I just ... Well, you know, might need a few hours to get there."
Luckily when you could manifest objects out of thin air you didn't need to pack, so all Crowley had to do was grab his keys and rush down to the Bentley. The drive to the airport cost him almost an hour, but he expected a flight to the closest airport to Wangerooge to be ready just when he arrived and a ticket to still be available. It worked like a charm.
In fact, it worked so well that he spent the flight expecting all further transport to be equally ready for him. Most importantly, there should be a horse right when he got off the ferry. A horse that was as unlike the hellhorses he'd had to ride in the Middle Ages as possible. A nice, particularly docile horse, that wasn't at all large or ferocious or black ... and certainly not inclined to breathe fire.
Just to make completely sure, he informed the woman at the livery stable that yes, of course he could ride.
"But, you know, it's been a while since the last time. So, if you could give me an obedient one that won't give me any trouble ..."
"Of course," she said. "You'd best take Else, then."
At first glance Else was everything Crowley had expected. She was small, sturdy and dappled grey with a rather sleepy look in her eyes ... at least until her nostrils caught a whiff of Crowley. Then they and her eyes popped wide open in shock.
Else drew her head up and back in alarm and snorted to get the stink out of her nose. She backed away, shook her head vehemently and proved almost impossible to saddle.
"I don't know what's wrong with her," the woman said. "She isn't usually like that."
"Probably just doesn't feel like working today," Crowley suggested. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."
He had to freeze the human to stop her from wasting time by fetching him another horse, though. Unfortunately that left him to mount Else unassisted.
You'd think that considering her small size that would have been easy enough, but it soon turned out to be anything but. Else moved away whenever he approached her side. Since he was holding the reins she couldn't just run off, but there was nothing stopping her from dancing sidewards and around the hand that held her.
For almost half an hour Crowley and the little mare kept going in circles. All Crowley's attempts to expect her into standing still were in vain. She was a creature with a mind of her own and couldn't be manipulated as easily as a dead object like a telephone, plane or ferry.
Her mind wasn't all that sophisticated, however. Eventually more by accident than design Crowley drove her sidewards against a wall and was able to set his foot into the stirrup.
Else jumped forwards in a desperate attempt to tear the reins out of his hand. Crowley was wise enough not to let go and wound up sprawling on the ground.
"Ouch. I hope that hurt your mouth as much as my side."
He should probably whip her for it, the demon considered, but then she'd hardly be any more inclined to let him ride her.
"Look," he tried to explain kindly instead. "I know I'm a demon, but the only reason I want to ride you is that I need to help an angel. So it's really a good deed, you know. I promise it can't possibly do any harm to your soul."
Not that animal souls could go to Hell in the first place, but clearly this benighted creature didn't know that.
In fact, there were quite a lot of things Else didn't know. English for one. She actually had a bigger passive vocabulary than most people realised, but what with her having been born and bred in Germany, it was almost entirely German.
Even in German she would not have recognised the words angel and demon, though. Her vocabulary ran more towards words like come, go, trot, gallop, halt and dinner. Religion didn't play a big part in her life. She had a vague concept of heaven as some place that she surely would find someday, where there was endless food and the pleasant company of nice other horses and everything smelled peaceful and pleasant.
Smells in general made up most of her ideas and thoughts. They defined her world. And Crowley smelled wrong. People didn't always exude only pleasant smells and Else had made her peace with that fact long ago. The smell of sulphur was at an entirely new level to her, though. She had never encountered it before and wanted no part of it. Mere words were not going to convince her otherwise.
The corner of a fence got the better of her in the end, though. Forced into it head-first she was boxed in, unable to avoid the fate of being mounted.
She tried bucking slightly, but the stinking human clearly was not to be thrown in a half-hearted attempt. He had better balance than that. And ... well, it took a lot of energy to buck and twist all out with all four legs in the air. Else wasn't outright elderly, but maybe just a year or two past her prime and had outgrown such games a long time ago. Besides, now that he was on her back Crowley was also behind her nose and she couldn't smell him as strongly anymore.
When you were a horse for rent on a tourist island like Wangerooge you learned to put up with riders of all sorts and make the best of them. Else stood still and waited to see what Crowley would do. She could buck whenever she wanted to, after all.
Crowley felt quite pleased with himself at apparently having subdued the horse so quickly. He should have tried the non -demonic variant of horses back when they had been in fashion. Right now was no time to ponder past choices, though. He had to get to Aziraphale before Gabriel showed up and started asking inconvenient questions.
He urged Else out onto the road and expected her to carry him straight to the hotel the angel was in. Else set off at a brisk walk accordingly. Crowley would have preferred a straight-out gallop and kicked her sides as hard as he could for a while. It made her fall into a slight trot for a bit, but she soon relapsed into a walk. Else had a good idea what he wanted, of course, but she also had all her experience with various levels of riders and Crowley's behaviour indicated that he had no clue what he was doing. For one, this wasn't the proper way to communicate the wish to gallop. For another, no rider that had ever earned Else's respect would gallop out the door without even a warm-up. It clearly was up to Else to pick a reasonable speed and she wasn't about to do more work than necessary. She was, after all, several years past her filly days.
Apparently it was also up to her to pick the direction in which they were going. That was no hardship. Else drew in the smells of the great big world outside the stables and followed the one she liked best, that of fresh grass.
After a while of walking along Crowley decided that perhaps it hadn't been such a bad idea after all. It might be slower than what he was used to from the Bentley and hellhorses, but he couldn't have a car here. When he thought of how often the horses had carried him off in the wrong direction or lost him along the way, slowly but surely was probably a lot more reasonable. He relaxed ... and realised that he ought to have remembered to adjust the stirrups. The right one was uncomfortably short, while he kept losing the left. Oh well, Else was moving along so safely, he might as well do it at a walk. Crowley bent to the right and fumbled for the buckle.
Else felt her rider's weight shift to the right pulling her out of balance, and adjusted her direction to restore it. It took her off the path, but whatever. She wasn't wedded to any direction and smooth ground was optional when you had four legs.
It wasn't very long before the weight started pulling in the other direction, however. Not that that made any difference either. Else turned left and was pleasantly surprised to find a smooth path under her hooves again. She sucked in air and smelled that she knew it very well. It was the way back home. That was an even more pleasant surprise.
Normally her riders didn't turn back around this soon after departure, but if Crowley wanted to return to the stables that was more than alright with Else. She wasn't fond of him or solitary excursions. Home meant that he would get off and leave and that she could rejoin her fellow horses ... or at least those that weren't currently rented out.
Crowley came back up from adjusting his feet when he felt Else come to a stop ... and found himself in front of the gate of the stables right next to the ferry.
He blessed Else furiously, but that didn't help and at least a small part of him realised, though it would never have admitted it, that this was his own fault. He ought to have remembered that horses, or at the very least this particular horse, couldn't be expected into doing things.
Once he had calmed down a little, he therefore expected a map of the island to be in a very surprised saddlebag that hadn't existed on Else's saddle before. He pulled it out and expected it into having the location of the hotel circled in red.
Then he pulled on the right rein until Else reluctantly agreed to point her head down the road once again and kicked her back into a walk.
Directing a horse in a particular direction, making her keep moving and holding a map in one hand turned out to be very difficult however. You just couldn't hold a piece of paper in the same hand as a strip of leather without crumpling the paper or loosening your grip on the leather. And that seemed to be just what Else had been waiting for. Somehow her neck seemed to grow longer and longer and her head heavier and heavier. Crowley let one rein slide bit by bit and then had to let the other slip as well, so Else wouldn't turn in its direction. Eventually he found himself holding only the clasp that connected the two reins.
That was in fact quite pleasant, though. He could hold it in one hand and keep the map in the other. It was perfect.
Until Else once again came to an abrupt halt and her head and neck disappeared from view entirely.
Quite bewildered, Crowley peered around his map so he could see what was going on behind and under it and discovered that they were standing in a patch of grass and Else was cropping away at it happily. He had to return the map to the saddlebag and pull both reins in with all the strength in his arms to tear her away from her meal before he could set her back into motion once again.
Else felt quite annoyed by the interruption of her meal. Eating with a bit in one's mouth was annoying enough as it was. She didn't need this stinking being pulling on it to add to the trouble. Then again, two could play the pulling game and Else knew from experience that she'd probably win. She gritted her teeth and leaned into the bit.
Her head grew heavier and heavier in Crowley's tiring arms. The reins cut into his fingers. He even had to curse blisters away on three occasions. But he clung on. It kept him from consulting the map again, but the blessed hotel had to be somewhere ahead of him. The road couldn't lead to anywhere else. If only he knew how much longer he'd have to bear this horrid weight in his hands!
After what felt like hours they did come to what looked a lot like a hotel. Was it the right one, though? In order to get out the map and check, Crowley would have had to let go of the reins with at least one hand. And then Else would pull them from his grasp and stop to graze again. He decided to feel for angelic or demonic presences instead. If Aziraphale and a Duke of Hell were in there, he ought to be able to tell if he concentrated enough. At least in theory. In praxis Crowley was so used to his counterpart's holy aura, that he was better at detecting its absence than presence and demonic auras ... Well, most of the time the most demonic thing around Crowley was himself and any other demonic things about were his property. Since those were usually where he expected them to be, Crowley had very little practise looking for them. Or perhaps there was no other demon here.
Else had no practise looking for demonic auras either. Nor was she equipped with the sensory organs to detect them. She had an about average nose for a horse, though, and there was a breeze blowing in her face. It carried more of that horrid stink. In fact, it wasn't just the slight hint of sulphur that clung to Crowley. This was intense enough that even a human would have been able to notice it, mixed with a good dose of another horrid stench Else hadn't encountered before (brimstone) and one she knew only too well: blood and death! She came to an abrupt stop, dug in her hooves, drew back her head and snorted in an attempt to get that horror out of her nose.
Crowley hadn't been expecting this and was thrown forward against the pommel of the saddle. It was quite lucky for him, that he was by nature a sexless being and not currently making an effort to be an anatomically correct human, or else this would have hurt a lot more. As it was, it was mostly annoying. He kicked Else's sides in order to set her back in motion. It worked, but not quite the way he'd expected it to. She started going backwards while shaking her head wildly.
"Oh come on now!" Crowley said and tried again while actually letting the reins loosen just a little.
It didn't change anything except that Else made an attempt to turn around that only hasty re-tightening of the opposed rein prevented from succeeding. All he could do was keep his horse roughly in place and he needed to go on and find that blessed Duke of Hell.
"Why Crawly, whatever is that thing you are riding?"
Hastur! So he was in the right place after all. And he'd even found the Duke of Hell. Unfortunately though, Else was still doing her best to back away from the other demon, which was a quite unexpected obstacle to getting rid of him. Not to mention embarrassing.
"Blessed beast!" Crowley blessed. "Will you stand still, bless it!"
Hastur jumped forward and grabbed the bridle bringing Else to a wide-nostriled and trembling halt.
"Ik," the Duke of Hell commented. "Whatever possessed you to ride that angelic thing instead of a proper hellhorse."
"She isn't angelic," Crowley assured him hastily. "Purely mortal. And unfortunately the closest to a hellhorse they had available on short notice. Blessedly obstinate and somewhat given to sloth, you know."
"White," Hastur stated with a glare up at the underside of Else's raised head.
"Grey," Crowley corrected. "All the blacks were already rented out and I couldn't make a big fuss about it. I ..." Hopefully-not-divine inspiration hit him quite suddenly. "The blessed angel is here. I'm trying to lie low so he won't notice my presence. Hoping he'll go away so I can get the job done without him jumping right in and countering the effect, you know. It's blessed useless to tempt a saintly-inclined human if they're inspired with deep regret and holy fervour the moment one turns one's back. And I don't have time to play tug-of-war over a single soul for months or years anymore. There's too many other humans that need tempting in the world nowadays."
"Could have just brought your hellhorse," Hastur's mind seemed to be stuck in a groove.
"I don't have a hellhorse on hand. Can't use them to get to most places anymore since the humans switched to cars. So last time mine went back down, I decided not to replace him and got a car instead. They're quite nifty and evil once you've cursed them up a bit. Plus there's road rage, exhaust fumes, the occasional hit and run ... Anyway, no more hellhorse and fewer horses around in general, so I had to make do with what I could get. First time I've needed a horse in two centuries, though," Crowley added hastily. "Not a lot of places left in this world that have any souls worth tempting and aren't much easier to reach in a car."
"So," Hastur said. "When are you going to finally do the job you've been assigned to? I've been waiting for days. My time could be spent more productively doing evil as well, you know."
"As soon as the angel gets out of the way," Crowley told him. "Which he won't while you are lurking here so obviously. It gives away that we have evil designs on one of the humans in the building, you know. So he's sticking around to protect them. He can feel you even more strongly than we feel him ... because of your rank. I'm less obvious, but I shouldn't be getting this close either. Can't you just go and do that evil you want to elsewhere?"
Hastur frowned. He'd meant to catch Crowley neglecting his duty and he'd thought he had, but if this angel story was true ...
"I don't feel no angel," he declared.
"What? Come on! He's right in there. Second floor, a little to the right."
Now that he was feeling for holy energy, Hastur couldn't deny that there was something rather more holy than even the most religious human ought to be in that region.
"Ah right, got him. Thought that must be your target earlier, but ..."
"No, that's an angel. You can't feel a good human at this distance. Or at least I can't. I suppose your senses might be stronger. But anyway, if we can feel that angel, he can feel us. We need to go away until he's left."
"We should just discorporate him."
"Then he'd know for sure we're planning something big here and would report it back to heaven. We might have Michael or Gabriel come down here in person then. Besides, I didn't think this job was that big and that angel has holy water and a flaming sword. What do you think Beelzebub will say if one of us gets discorporated in the fight? New corporations aren't that easy to come by, believe me. I've been through that process a few times thanks to that angel. If I can get around him without a fight, I will. More efficient, too, since the whole time I'm down there waiting for recorporation, I'm not up here doing evil and he's free to do good wherever he likes."
Hastur frowned.
"And you're sure you can handle this once I'm gone?"
"Of course. I'll just stay out of sensing distance and wait until the angel leaves as well. Then it'll be no problem at all. I'll just tempt and return to my other project. The angel will never know. Trust me, I've done it that way plenty of times before."
"Fine," Hastur decided. "I'll be checking up on the missionaries in Africa if you need help after all, then."
"Oh nice," Crowley said. "Missionaries are always fun. Haven't been down there in a bit, though, since I've been too busy around Europe. So you'll probably find plenty to do. Stop by for a chat next time you're in London and tell me how it went. Be great to catch up."
They both knew that there were few things Crowley wanted to do less, but Hastur wasn't likely to get the opportunity soon. Corporations were hard to come by for him as well and his job was mostly down in Hell, after all.
The moment Hastur let go of Else she started backing up again, so Crowley gave up on getting her to carry him any closer to the hotel and jumped off. He waited until he could no longer feel the Duke of Hell's presence and then a bit more for good measure before he made his way into the building to look for Aziraphale.
Else found herself left to her own devices with her reins hanging loose. Being a German horse trained in the traditional style hanging reins meant nothing to her but that there was no rider restraining her. She took a deep breath of relief and found that the awful stink had diminished. It was still detectable, though, so she trotted away from it and snorted until it disappeared entirely. In the process she smelled familiar surroundings. She knew where the closest stable was around here. It smelled of fellow horses, hay and comfort. So she decided to follow her nose and get some rest. Perhaps there would even be a human to take off the annoying tack and feed her. If not, hay or straw was usually readily available for self-service to any horse loose in a stable. Stables were good places.
The angel wasn't hard to find, though Crowley had to expect the door to be open since he didn't react to a knock. Or maybe the door always had been open anyway. It was kind of likely when Crowley thought about it, as the room turned out to be a library rather than a hotel room. That also explained why Aziraphale hadn't reacted to Crowley's knock. The angel was engrossed in a book. It didn't explain the presence of a library in the hotel, but then Crowley didn't care about that question. Nor did he honestly care about the door. He'd found his angelic counterpart and that was all that mattered.
"Alright angel," he announced proudly. "I'm here and I've taken care of Hastur. We can go."
"Mmm ... oh, are you? That's nice, dear." Aziraphale didn't even glance up from the book.
Crowley snatched it out of his hands.
"Hey!" Aziraphale's halo flared up painfully bright. "I was reading that."
"You don't have time to read," Crowley reminded him. "Remember Gabriel?"
"Oh but he isn't likely to come today," Aziraphale declared. "And if he does, he won't know where to find me. He can wait in London for one day."
"Can wait? Then why did I have to rush here in such a hurry? Why did I have to ride ..."
"Well, I ... It was very nice of you, but you needn't have hurried quite this much. I am very grateful to you, though. It was a g... Well, you know."
"Ngk."
"Yes, exactly. And I suppose I could maybe read this at home if maybe you'd happen to take it with you? I'd have to mail it back here, of course, but none of the current guests do seem to be interested in reading much, so ..."
"Right," Crowley agreed and pocketed the book. "Probably all out sightseeing and riding and whatever they do on this G... S... forsaken island. Besides, there are plenty of books here. They'll never miss this single one. Come on, let's go. The sooner I get back to civilisation, the better. And you don't really want to have to explain to Gabriel where you've been."
"I suppose not," Aziraphale said. "I just have to stop at the front desk on the way out. I'll leave them a tip to pay for the book."
"Fine," Crowley said, though he hated to wait for such formalities as checking out, especially when Aziraphale most likely had never checked into the hotel in the first place. The angel didn't sleep after all and performing a quick temptation hardly required a room.
Ten minutes later they stepped out of the hotel and ... there was no sign of Else anywhere. Crowley blessed furiously.
"Why, what's the matter, dear? Did somebody steal your bike?"
"Bike? What bike? I don't own a bike."
"Why, then how did you get here? Surely you didn't walk."
"I rented a horse, of course. And now she's gone. Probably ran all the way home. Didn't like the sight of this place one bit to start with, the obstinate beast."
"But Crowley, I thought you hated horses. Why didn't you just rent a bike? That's what I did."
"Because ..." It had never occurred to him that there might be an alternative to cars other than horses. Of course there had to be a way for tourists that didn't know how to ride to get around on Wangerooge, though. Most humans these days didn't, after all. "I just saw a place that rented horses, you know. Right when I got off the ferry, I mean. And I thought you needed me to get here quickly, so ..."
Bless it, a bike would have been so much less trouble and faster in the end. Bikes could be expected and miracled without a problem. They had no minds of their own, never objected to anything and didn't eat or smell either.
"I don't suppose you happened to rent a tandem?" he suggested.
"It wasn't one at the time," Aziraphale admitted. "But it would be a good deed to prevent you from stealing a bike. I suppose I can use a miracle for that."
Crowley could also just have materialised a bike for himself, but on the other hand a tandem sounded more slothful. He could leave most of the pedalling to the angel and rest his sore muscles.
Recipient: riwriting
Rating: PG
Summary: Not everything can be affected by miracles and demons' expectations. Crowley braves one of his fears for Aziraphale's sake.
Sometimes Crowley regretted inspiring the invention of the telephone. Sure, it was a great tool of evil and frustrated millions of people every day. Unfortunately it was also very good at frustrating at least one demon that just wanted to get a little bit of practical sloth in.
Since it takes quite a lot of work to undo past mistakes, Crowley decided to roll over and let the answering machine handle the matter.
"Crowley? Are you there?"
Aziraphale knew him much too well. He couldn't see him through the phone, though. Just because he wasn't picking up didn't have to mean that he was at home and ignoring the phone.
"It's just that I'm in a spot of trouble here and really, really need your help."
Oh da... ble... whatever! Crowley miracled the phone next to the couch and picked up the receiver.
"Alright alright, what's the problem?"
"Well ... Do you remember that little temptation you asked me to take care of for you? The one on Wangerooge?"
Crowley shuddered.
"Of course. Blessed idyllic German island where they forbid all cars and call it a tourist attraction."
"It is a lovely place, dear. Very quiet, good food. You really ought to give it a chance someday. But anyway, the temptation. I'm here. I've done the job, but now I'm stuck in the man's hotel."
"So what? Just sign out and come back home," Crowley said, quite confused. "Or take another hotel and take a holiday, if you like the place so much. Call me up when you get back in town."
"No, you don't understand. I can't leave. There's a Duke of Hell lurking just outside the door. He's been here for over a day and is giving no sign of wanting to take a break."
"Evil is ever vigilant," Crowley stated. "Except for this little bit."
"Yes, quite." Aziraphale sounded just a touch pissed off. "And that larger bit of it is being vigilant right at the only exit from this building. What do you think it will do if an angel just walks right past it? I am no match for a Duke of Hell, Crowley. You've got to come and get him out of the way. Just long enough for me to get out."
Go to Wangerooge? The place was full of horses and Crowley hated horses at least as much as horses hated Crowley. And he'd probably have to ride one to even get to that hotel.
"Look, I ... I can't get away very well right now. And how would I even explain my presence on Wangerooge?"
"Why, easily: You're there to do the temptation I just performed. Hell ordered you to do it and they'd better not have any idea that you asked me to do it for you, or we'd both be in very hot water."
Well, technically Aziraphale would probably be on very hot hell-fire and Crowley in very deadly holy water ... at least if the information leaked to Heaven as well. Knowing Hell's bureaucracy it eventually would.
"Can't you just wait it out?" Crowley suggested. "They've got good food in there, right? And he can't keep lurking there forever. He must have more important evil to do. Whatever he's waiting for must happen sooner or later and then he'll go away."
"I've got to get back to London, Crowley. Gabriel is due to arrive for my millennial performance review any day now. And what could I tell him that I was doing on Wangerooge? I'm not supposed to be here, Crowley. You are."
Bless it!
"Alright, alright, I'm coming. I just ... Well, you know, might need a few hours to get there."
Luckily when you could manifest objects out of thin air you didn't need to pack, so all Crowley had to do was grab his keys and rush down to the Bentley. The drive to the airport cost him almost an hour, but he expected a flight to the closest airport to Wangerooge to be ready just when he arrived and a ticket to still be available. It worked like a charm.
In fact, it worked so well that he spent the flight expecting all further transport to be equally ready for him. Most importantly, there should be a horse right when he got off the ferry. A horse that was as unlike the hellhorses he'd had to ride in the Middle Ages as possible. A nice, particularly docile horse, that wasn't at all large or ferocious or black ... and certainly not inclined to breathe fire.
Just to make completely sure, he informed the woman at the livery stable that yes, of course he could ride.
"But, you know, it's been a while since the last time. So, if you could give me an obedient one that won't give me any trouble ..."
"Of course," she said. "You'd best take Else, then."
At first glance Else was everything Crowley had expected. She was small, sturdy and dappled grey with a rather sleepy look in her eyes ... at least until her nostrils caught a whiff of Crowley. Then they and her eyes popped wide open in shock.
Else drew her head up and back in alarm and snorted to get the stink out of her nose. She backed away, shook her head vehemently and proved almost impossible to saddle.
"I don't know what's wrong with her," the woman said. "She isn't usually like that."
"Probably just doesn't feel like working today," Crowley suggested. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."
He had to freeze the human to stop her from wasting time by fetching him another horse, though. Unfortunately that left him to mount Else unassisted.
You'd think that considering her small size that would have been easy enough, but it soon turned out to be anything but. Else moved away whenever he approached her side. Since he was holding the reins she couldn't just run off, but there was nothing stopping her from dancing sidewards and around the hand that held her.
For almost half an hour Crowley and the little mare kept going in circles. All Crowley's attempts to expect her into standing still were in vain. She was a creature with a mind of her own and couldn't be manipulated as easily as a dead object like a telephone, plane or ferry.
Her mind wasn't all that sophisticated, however. Eventually more by accident than design Crowley drove her sidewards against a wall and was able to set his foot into the stirrup.
Else jumped forwards in a desperate attempt to tear the reins out of his hand. Crowley was wise enough not to let go and wound up sprawling on the ground.
"Ouch. I hope that hurt your mouth as much as my side."
He should probably whip her for it, the demon considered, but then she'd hardly be any more inclined to let him ride her.
"Look," he tried to explain kindly instead. "I know I'm a demon, but the only reason I want to ride you is that I need to help an angel. So it's really a good deed, you know. I promise it can't possibly do any harm to your soul."
Not that animal souls could go to Hell in the first place, but clearly this benighted creature didn't know that.
In fact, there were quite a lot of things Else didn't know. English for one. She actually had a bigger passive vocabulary than most people realised, but what with her having been born and bred in Germany, it was almost entirely German.
Even in German she would not have recognised the words angel and demon, though. Her vocabulary ran more towards words like come, go, trot, gallop, halt and dinner. Religion didn't play a big part in her life. She had a vague concept of heaven as some place that she surely would find someday, where there was endless food and the pleasant company of nice other horses and everything smelled peaceful and pleasant.
Smells in general made up most of her ideas and thoughts. They defined her world. And Crowley smelled wrong. People didn't always exude only pleasant smells and Else had made her peace with that fact long ago. The smell of sulphur was at an entirely new level to her, though. She had never encountered it before and wanted no part of it. Mere words were not going to convince her otherwise.
The corner of a fence got the better of her in the end, though. Forced into it head-first she was boxed in, unable to avoid the fate of being mounted.
She tried bucking slightly, but the stinking human clearly was not to be thrown in a half-hearted attempt. He had better balance than that. And ... well, it took a lot of energy to buck and twist all out with all four legs in the air. Else wasn't outright elderly, but maybe just a year or two past her prime and had outgrown such games a long time ago. Besides, now that he was on her back Crowley was also behind her nose and she couldn't smell him as strongly anymore.
When you were a horse for rent on a tourist island like Wangerooge you learned to put up with riders of all sorts and make the best of them. Else stood still and waited to see what Crowley would do. She could buck whenever she wanted to, after all.
Crowley felt quite pleased with himself at apparently having subdued the horse so quickly. He should have tried the non -demonic variant of horses back when they had been in fashion. Right now was no time to ponder past choices, though. He had to get to Aziraphale before Gabriel showed up and started asking inconvenient questions.
He urged Else out onto the road and expected her to carry him straight to the hotel the angel was in. Else set off at a brisk walk accordingly. Crowley would have preferred a straight-out gallop and kicked her sides as hard as he could for a while. It made her fall into a slight trot for a bit, but she soon relapsed into a walk. Else had a good idea what he wanted, of course, but she also had all her experience with various levels of riders and Crowley's behaviour indicated that he had no clue what he was doing. For one, this wasn't the proper way to communicate the wish to gallop. For another, no rider that had ever earned Else's respect would gallop out the door without even a warm-up. It clearly was up to Else to pick a reasonable speed and she wasn't about to do more work than necessary. She was, after all, several years past her filly days.
Apparently it was also up to her to pick the direction in which they were going. That was no hardship. Else drew in the smells of the great big world outside the stables and followed the one she liked best, that of fresh grass.
After a while of walking along Crowley decided that perhaps it hadn't been such a bad idea after all. It might be slower than what he was used to from the Bentley and hellhorses, but he couldn't have a car here. When he thought of how often the horses had carried him off in the wrong direction or lost him along the way, slowly but surely was probably a lot more reasonable. He relaxed ... and realised that he ought to have remembered to adjust the stirrups. The right one was uncomfortably short, while he kept losing the left. Oh well, Else was moving along so safely, he might as well do it at a walk. Crowley bent to the right and fumbled for the buckle.
Else felt her rider's weight shift to the right pulling her out of balance, and adjusted her direction to restore it. It took her off the path, but whatever. She wasn't wedded to any direction and smooth ground was optional when you had four legs.
It wasn't very long before the weight started pulling in the other direction, however. Not that that made any difference either. Else turned left and was pleasantly surprised to find a smooth path under her hooves again. She sucked in air and smelled that she knew it very well. It was the way back home. That was an even more pleasant surprise.
Normally her riders didn't turn back around this soon after departure, but if Crowley wanted to return to the stables that was more than alright with Else. She wasn't fond of him or solitary excursions. Home meant that he would get off and leave and that she could rejoin her fellow horses ... or at least those that weren't currently rented out.
Crowley came back up from adjusting his feet when he felt Else come to a stop ... and found himself in front of the gate of the stables right next to the ferry.
He blessed Else furiously, but that didn't help and at least a small part of him realised, though it would never have admitted it, that this was his own fault. He ought to have remembered that horses, or at the very least this particular horse, couldn't be expected into doing things.
Once he had calmed down a little, he therefore expected a map of the island to be in a very surprised saddlebag that hadn't existed on Else's saddle before. He pulled it out and expected it into having the location of the hotel circled in red.
Then he pulled on the right rein until Else reluctantly agreed to point her head down the road once again and kicked her back into a walk.
Directing a horse in a particular direction, making her keep moving and holding a map in one hand turned out to be very difficult however. You just couldn't hold a piece of paper in the same hand as a strip of leather without crumpling the paper or loosening your grip on the leather. And that seemed to be just what Else had been waiting for. Somehow her neck seemed to grow longer and longer and her head heavier and heavier. Crowley let one rein slide bit by bit and then had to let the other slip as well, so Else wouldn't turn in its direction. Eventually he found himself holding only the clasp that connected the two reins.
That was in fact quite pleasant, though. He could hold it in one hand and keep the map in the other. It was perfect.
Until Else once again came to an abrupt halt and her head and neck disappeared from view entirely.
Quite bewildered, Crowley peered around his map so he could see what was going on behind and under it and discovered that they were standing in a patch of grass and Else was cropping away at it happily. He had to return the map to the saddlebag and pull both reins in with all the strength in his arms to tear her away from her meal before he could set her back into motion once again.
Else felt quite annoyed by the interruption of her meal. Eating with a bit in one's mouth was annoying enough as it was. She didn't need this stinking being pulling on it to add to the trouble. Then again, two could play the pulling game and Else knew from experience that she'd probably win. She gritted her teeth and leaned into the bit.
Her head grew heavier and heavier in Crowley's tiring arms. The reins cut into his fingers. He even had to curse blisters away on three occasions. But he clung on. It kept him from consulting the map again, but the blessed hotel had to be somewhere ahead of him. The road couldn't lead to anywhere else. If only he knew how much longer he'd have to bear this horrid weight in his hands!
After what felt like hours they did come to what looked a lot like a hotel. Was it the right one, though? In order to get out the map and check, Crowley would have had to let go of the reins with at least one hand. And then Else would pull them from his grasp and stop to graze again. He decided to feel for angelic or demonic presences instead. If Aziraphale and a Duke of Hell were in there, he ought to be able to tell if he concentrated enough. At least in theory. In praxis Crowley was so used to his counterpart's holy aura, that he was better at detecting its absence than presence and demonic auras ... Well, most of the time the most demonic thing around Crowley was himself and any other demonic things about were his property. Since those were usually where he expected them to be, Crowley had very little practise looking for them. Or perhaps there was no other demon here.
Else had no practise looking for demonic auras either. Nor was she equipped with the sensory organs to detect them. She had an about average nose for a horse, though, and there was a breeze blowing in her face. It carried more of that horrid stink. In fact, it wasn't just the slight hint of sulphur that clung to Crowley. This was intense enough that even a human would have been able to notice it, mixed with a good dose of another horrid stench Else hadn't encountered before (brimstone) and one she knew only too well: blood and death! She came to an abrupt stop, dug in her hooves, drew back her head and snorted in an attempt to get that horror out of her nose.
Crowley hadn't been expecting this and was thrown forward against the pommel of the saddle. It was quite lucky for him, that he was by nature a sexless being and not currently making an effort to be an anatomically correct human, or else this would have hurt a lot more. As it was, it was mostly annoying. He kicked Else's sides in order to set her back in motion. It worked, but not quite the way he'd expected it to. She started going backwards while shaking her head wildly.
"Oh come on now!" Crowley said and tried again while actually letting the reins loosen just a little.
It didn't change anything except that Else made an attempt to turn around that only hasty re-tightening of the opposed rein prevented from succeeding. All he could do was keep his horse roughly in place and he needed to go on and find that blessed Duke of Hell.
"Why Crawly, whatever is that thing you are riding?"
Hastur! So he was in the right place after all. And he'd even found the Duke of Hell. Unfortunately though, Else was still doing her best to back away from the other demon, which was a quite unexpected obstacle to getting rid of him. Not to mention embarrassing.
"Blessed beast!" Crowley blessed. "Will you stand still, bless it!"
Hastur jumped forward and grabbed the bridle bringing Else to a wide-nostriled and trembling halt.
"Ik," the Duke of Hell commented. "Whatever possessed you to ride that angelic thing instead of a proper hellhorse."
"She isn't angelic," Crowley assured him hastily. "Purely mortal. And unfortunately the closest to a hellhorse they had available on short notice. Blessedly obstinate and somewhat given to sloth, you know."
"White," Hastur stated with a glare up at the underside of Else's raised head.
"Grey," Crowley corrected. "All the blacks were already rented out and I couldn't make a big fuss about it. I ..." Hopefully-not-divine inspiration hit him quite suddenly. "The blessed angel is here. I'm trying to lie low so he won't notice my presence. Hoping he'll go away so I can get the job done without him jumping right in and countering the effect, you know. It's blessed useless to tempt a saintly-inclined human if they're inspired with deep regret and holy fervour the moment one turns one's back. And I don't have time to play tug-of-war over a single soul for months or years anymore. There's too many other humans that need tempting in the world nowadays."
"Could have just brought your hellhorse," Hastur's mind seemed to be stuck in a groove.
"I don't have a hellhorse on hand. Can't use them to get to most places anymore since the humans switched to cars. So last time mine went back down, I decided not to replace him and got a car instead. They're quite nifty and evil once you've cursed them up a bit. Plus there's road rage, exhaust fumes, the occasional hit and run ... Anyway, no more hellhorse and fewer horses around in general, so I had to make do with what I could get. First time I've needed a horse in two centuries, though," Crowley added hastily. "Not a lot of places left in this world that have any souls worth tempting and aren't much easier to reach in a car."
"So," Hastur said. "When are you going to finally do the job you've been assigned to? I've been waiting for days. My time could be spent more productively doing evil as well, you know."
"As soon as the angel gets out of the way," Crowley told him. "Which he won't while you are lurking here so obviously. It gives away that we have evil designs on one of the humans in the building, you know. So he's sticking around to protect them. He can feel you even more strongly than we feel him ... because of your rank. I'm less obvious, but I shouldn't be getting this close either. Can't you just go and do that evil you want to elsewhere?"
Hastur frowned. He'd meant to catch Crowley neglecting his duty and he'd thought he had, but if this angel story was true ...
"I don't feel no angel," he declared.
"What? Come on! He's right in there. Second floor, a little to the right."
Now that he was feeling for holy energy, Hastur couldn't deny that there was something rather more holy than even the most religious human ought to be in that region.
"Ah right, got him. Thought that must be your target earlier, but ..."
"No, that's an angel. You can't feel a good human at this distance. Or at least I can't. I suppose your senses might be stronger. But anyway, if we can feel that angel, he can feel us. We need to go away until he's left."
"We should just discorporate him."
"Then he'd know for sure we're planning something big here and would report it back to heaven. We might have Michael or Gabriel come down here in person then. Besides, I didn't think this job was that big and that angel has holy water and a flaming sword. What do you think Beelzebub will say if one of us gets discorporated in the fight? New corporations aren't that easy to come by, believe me. I've been through that process a few times thanks to that angel. If I can get around him without a fight, I will. More efficient, too, since the whole time I'm down there waiting for recorporation, I'm not up here doing evil and he's free to do good wherever he likes."
Hastur frowned.
"And you're sure you can handle this once I'm gone?"
"Of course. I'll just stay out of sensing distance and wait until the angel leaves as well. Then it'll be no problem at all. I'll just tempt and return to my other project. The angel will never know. Trust me, I've done it that way plenty of times before."
"Fine," Hastur decided. "I'll be checking up on the missionaries in Africa if you need help after all, then."
"Oh nice," Crowley said. "Missionaries are always fun. Haven't been down there in a bit, though, since I've been too busy around Europe. So you'll probably find plenty to do. Stop by for a chat next time you're in London and tell me how it went. Be great to catch up."
They both knew that there were few things Crowley wanted to do less, but Hastur wasn't likely to get the opportunity soon. Corporations were hard to come by for him as well and his job was mostly down in Hell, after all.
The moment Hastur let go of Else she started backing up again, so Crowley gave up on getting her to carry him any closer to the hotel and jumped off. He waited until he could no longer feel the Duke of Hell's presence and then a bit more for good measure before he made his way into the building to look for Aziraphale.
Else found herself left to her own devices with her reins hanging loose. Being a German horse trained in the traditional style hanging reins meant nothing to her but that there was no rider restraining her. She took a deep breath of relief and found that the awful stink had diminished. It was still detectable, though, so she trotted away from it and snorted until it disappeared entirely. In the process she smelled familiar surroundings. She knew where the closest stable was around here. It smelled of fellow horses, hay and comfort. So she decided to follow her nose and get some rest. Perhaps there would even be a human to take off the annoying tack and feed her. If not, hay or straw was usually readily available for self-service to any horse loose in a stable. Stables were good places.
The angel wasn't hard to find, though Crowley had to expect the door to be open since he didn't react to a knock. Or maybe the door always had been open anyway. It was kind of likely when Crowley thought about it, as the room turned out to be a library rather than a hotel room. That also explained why Aziraphale hadn't reacted to Crowley's knock. The angel was engrossed in a book. It didn't explain the presence of a library in the hotel, but then Crowley didn't care about that question. Nor did he honestly care about the door. He'd found his angelic counterpart and that was all that mattered.
"Alright angel," he announced proudly. "I'm here and I've taken care of Hastur. We can go."
"Mmm ... oh, are you? That's nice, dear." Aziraphale didn't even glance up from the book.
Crowley snatched it out of his hands.
"Hey!" Aziraphale's halo flared up painfully bright. "I was reading that."
"You don't have time to read," Crowley reminded him. "Remember Gabriel?"
"Oh but he isn't likely to come today," Aziraphale declared. "And if he does, he won't know where to find me. He can wait in London for one day."
"Can wait? Then why did I have to rush here in such a hurry? Why did I have to ride ..."
"Well, I ... It was very nice of you, but you needn't have hurried quite this much. I am very grateful to you, though. It was a g... Well, you know."
"Ngk."
"Yes, exactly. And I suppose I could maybe read this at home if maybe you'd happen to take it with you? I'd have to mail it back here, of course, but none of the current guests do seem to be interested in reading much, so ..."
"Right," Crowley agreed and pocketed the book. "Probably all out sightseeing and riding and whatever they do on this G... S... forsaken island. Besides, there are plenty of books here. They'll never miss this single one. Come on, let's go. The sooner I get back to civilisation, the better. And you don't really want to have to explain to Gabriel where you've been."
"I suppose not," Aziraphale said. "I just have to stop at the front desk on the way out. I'll leave them a tip to pay for the book."
"Fine," Crowley said, though he hated to wait for such formalities as checking out, especially when Aziraphale most likely had never checked into the hotel in the first place. The angel didn't sleep after all and performing a quick temptation hardly required a room.
Ten minutes later they stepped out of the hotel and ... there was no sign of Else anywhere. Crowley blessed furiously.
"Why, what's the matter, dear? Did somebody steal your bike?"
"Bike? What bike? I don't own a bike."
"Why, then how did you get here? Surely you didn't walk."
"I rented a horse, of course. And now she's gone. Probably ran all the way home. Didn't like the sight of this place one bit to start with, the obstinate beast."
"But Crowley, I thought you hated horses. Why didn't you just rent a bike? That's what I did."
"Because ..." It had never occurred to him that there might be an alternative to cars other than horses. Of course there had to be a way for tourists that didn't know how to ride to get around on Wangerooge, though. Most humans these days didn't, after all. "I just saw a place that rented horses, you know. Right when I got off the ferry, I mean. And I thought you needed me to get here quickly, so ..."
Bless it, a bike would have been so much less trouble and faster in the end. Bikes could be expected and miracled without a problem. They had no minds of their own, never objected to anything and didn't eat or smell either.
"I don't suppose you happened to rent a tandem?" he suggested.
"It wasn't one at the time," Aziraphale admitted. "But it would be a good deed to prevent you from stealing a bike. I suppose I can use a miracle for that."
Crowley could also just have materialised a bike for himself, but on the other hand a tandem sounded more slothful. He could leave most of the pedalling to the angel and rest his sore muscles.
