'Til We Meet Again - Crowley x Reader

Chapter 7

537 A.D., Kingdom of West Essex

In the year 537 AD, the Kingdom of West Essex stood as a bastion of medieval life, where knights in shining armor and chivalry were the order of the day. Aziraphale and Crowley found themselves once again on a quest. Clad in the armor of knights, they roamed the countryside like two chess pieces moving through a grand, celestial game - the white knight and the black knight.

The chessboard of destiny had placed them in a time where the world was in upheaval, and the concept of knights and nobility was at its zenith. But something had changed within them. The weight of their celestial roles and the millennia of opposing each other in the grand cosmic game weighed heavily on their minds.

Crowley, resplendent in ebony armor adorned with serpentine motifs, had grown weary of the ceaseless conflict. He wandered through the lush meadows of West Essex, his thoughts as dark as his armor. Aziraphale, the white knight, with his armor gleaming like the purity of heaven, shared a similar sentiment. He rode through the forests and valleys, pondering the consequences of their celestial rivalry.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to them, the mortal who had been Y/n in previous lifetimes had been reincarnated once more, this time as Sir Tristan the Harbinger, a valiant knight in service of King Arthur. He had forged his path through the world of chivalry, driven by an inexplicable sense of destiny.

One fateful day, as Crowley meandered through the kingdom and Aziraphale rode through the fields, their paths converged in a sun-dappled glade, where a babbling brook cut through the meadow. Each knight was surprised to find the other in this idyllic setting.

Aziraphale graciously dismounted his steed. "I search for the Black Knight. Are you him?" he asked.

Crowley's hand moved to the sword on his hip, prepared for a battle. "You have sought the Black Knight, foolish one. But you have found your death."

"Is that you under there Crawely?" Aziraphale queried, lifting his visor.

"Crowley." corrected the demon, opening his visor. Crowley raised a curious eyebrow, his serpent-etched helmet tilted slightly. "Aziraphale, what are you doing here? Planning to joust with some noble, no doubt?"

Aziraphale, adjusting the plume on his pristine helm, offered a wistful smile. "Actually, I was thinking of taking up falconry. But, Crowley, we must talk."

It was amidst this turmoil that they encountered an unexpected presence - a male knight, valiantly astride his steed and bearing the emblem of a celestial bird, a phoenix, on his shield. Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Sir Tristan, a knight of valor with a strong sense of justice. He regarded the two knights with a mixture of intrigue and awe.

"I seek the White and Black Knights. Art thou them?" Sir Tristan asked.

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a glance. "Yes, we are them." Aziraphale replied.

Sir Tristan dismounted his horse, his armor clanging as his feet hit the ground. He removed his helmet and let his brown hair fall over his shoulders. "I am Sir Tristan the Harbinger, Knight of King Arthur's court."

Crowley, removing his helmet, regarded Sir Tristan with a smirk. Aziraphale, sensing no danger from the newcomer, followed suit and removed his helmet. Crowley stared at the knight, his yellow snake eyes piercing his soul. He sensed something familiar about him. Sir Tristan gazed at the demon's eyes, a memory surfacing in his mind like a duck out of water. "Crowley." he said softly. He shook his head, looking at the ground as more memories flooded his head. His eyes held a glimmer of recognition as he regarded Aziraphale and Crowley. Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged puzzled glances before Aziraphale ventured, "Y/n? Is that you?"

The knight nodded, a shadow of a distant memory surfacing in his mind, "Yes, it's me."

Crowley, his sharp eyes assessing the knight, raised an eyebrow. "Well, well. It seems our friend has been reborn in quite the dashing form."

Y/n regarded them both, a sense of nostalgia lingering in his gaze. "Crowley, Aziraphale, it's been quite some time."

The three knights exchanged pleasantries, though the weight of their celestial roles hung in the air. A cold gust of wind halted their conversation. They turned their gaze towards the source of the wind. Dark, heavy clouds hung ominously on the horizon, creeping closer with every second.

"Shall we continue this elsewhere? My place?" Aziraphale suggested, looking between his companions. Crowley and Y/n nodded in agreement.

Aziraphale and Y/n headed over to their respective steeds. Crowley stood sheepishly as they mounted their horses.

"Crowley you can ride with me." Y/n offered, holding out her hand for him to take. Crowley accepted the offer and took Y/n's hand. He settled on the back of Y/n's steed and wrapped his arms comfortably around her waist. The feeling of Crowley's hands around her waist sparked a strange feeling inside Y/n. She smiled secretly to herself. She liked the feeling of his arms around her waist.

The trio embarked on their journey to Aziraphale's residence.

......

Crowley, Aziraphale, and Y/n sat around the fireplace in Aziraphale's living room. Books and scrolls that Aziraphale had collected throughout the years adorned the shelves of the small room. The smell of old parchment and ancient ink made the room felt cozy and welcoming. The discussion turned to that of their influence on mankind.

"We've been at this for millennia," Crowley admitted, his voice tinged with weariness. "Good versus evil, angels versus demons. It's exhausting, you know."

Aziraphale nodded in agreement. "Perhaps it's time we considered a different path. One where we don't cancel each other out, where we can be our own knights and not just pawns in the celestial game."

Y/n, a knight of wisdom and insight, offered a thoughtful suggestion. "There is a world beyond the grand cosmic struggle, my friends. A world where you can make choices independent of your celestial roles."

Crowley and Aziraphale contemplated this revelation, a sense of hope and possibility dawning within them. The weight of their eternal roles seemed to lift, if only for a moment.

As they continued to converse, in Aziraphale's warm, comfortable abode, the three knights - Crowley, Aziraphale, and Sir Tristan - shared their desires for a different future. A future where they could break free from the constraints of heaven and hell, and forge their own destinies in the tapestry of human existence.

In the Kingdom of West Essex, amidst the age of knights and chivalry, a new chapter in their celestial journey had begun. The game of good versus evil might persist, but they were no longer mere chess pieces; they were knights in search of a path of their own choosing.