Chapter Text
From a safe distance, not-quite-a-horse and not-quite-a-man were looking as the manor collapsed. Then the ground stilled, the curse finally having run its course.
The not-quite-a-man turned to look at his companion, a cremello cob.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Starrag said with some amusement. “We could have had so much fun if I had known.”
The shape-shifted mage snorted and rolled his eyes, as if saying I didn’t know I could do that either. Starrag narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.
“Let me guess,” he drawled. “A spell you’ve read about in one of your dusty old books and have never tried before?”
The cob nodded, looking slightly abashed.
“Well, I suppose, our untimely demise being the alternative, it was a good time to try,” Starrag shrugged. “And it was a bloody good first try at that. Now that you know how, we can use it to explore together from time to time.” He imagined them running side by side, the feathered legs beating the ground along the long black ones, racing not to get away from the danger but for the sheer exhilaration of it. “Not right now, though. Fancy changing back so that we could go to the village? I could do with a cauldron of Newt’s stew; it never occurred to the bastards to feed me.”
The cob shook his head and pawed the ground with his front foot. Starrag looked at him, puzzled, and then it dawned on him.
“You don’t know how to change back, do you?”
The cob nodded again and hung his head. Starrag sighed and turned to look at what used to be the manor.
“The book with the spell. It’s in those ruins, right? Along with the rest of the library, I would guess.” Aziraphale looked at him sadly. Starrag looked at the ruins again, resigned. “Do you suppose there is any chance the book has survived?”
Crowley held the book up to Aziraphale’s eye level, to make it easier for him to see the spell. Not that the mage would risk attempting it before committing it to memory; a gust of wind turning the page and disrupting the process would spell disaster. But he understood the kelpie’s need to be doing something to help, despite all the prior work he had put into unearthing the book from the ruined library. Besides, it was nice to have the reassurance of the book in case his mind went suddenly blank.
Aziraphale was nervous as he went through the incantation to turn back into a human. He was not sure it would work without the power of human speech, but apparently the mage who invented it had accounted for this limitation. When he felt the power of the spell surging around him, he held his breath, his eyes meeting Crowley’s gaze. The kelpie was trying to look at him with reassurance and didn’t seem aware of just how much he was failing.
The final tug of power completed the spell, and Aziraphale felt his body ripple as it returned to his more familiar form. He felt unsteady on his feet as soon as the change was completed, standing on two legs for the first time in days throwing him out of balance. Crowley caught him in his arms before he collapsed ungracefully.
They stayed like that for a while, Aziraphale focusing on his breathing and taking mental stock of his body parts being where they were supposed to be. The shift into a horse came to him easier than his studies led him to believe, almost naturally, but now the stress of the reverse transformation was taking a double toll. Finally, the mage straightened, picking up the book Crowley dropped to catch him and clearing his throat.
“Thank you, my dear. I regret to say that I couldn’t manage the change anywhere near as gracefully as you do.”
“Nyeah, that’s just practice, you know. It's not that bad, when you get used to it.” The kelpie grinned. “We’ll just need to make sure you get plenty of practice. There’s nothing to stop you from spending time with me now, after all.”
Aziraphale looked at him in surprise. “Would you really want that?”
“Wouldn’t you? We’re friends, right?”
“I’d like to think so, yes. But after everything that associating with me put you through, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to stay as far away from me as possible.”
“Absolutely not! You’re my best friend, Aziraphale. I have no intention of going anywhere. That is, unless you’d like to get away from this place?”
The mage thought about it for a moment. “I really don’t. My memories associated with the manor might not be the best, but it’s gone now. And the villagers I got to know are quite lovely and welcoming. Besides, you’ve made this place your home, don’t think I didn’t hear the stories in the village of you helping the local kids.”
Crowley chuckled. “A mischievous gang of rascals after my own heart. Wouldn’t want to leave them without supervision.”
“There you have it. I believe old Mistress Nutter was talking about moving in with her daughter, she might be willing to let her cottage by the woods to me—to us, if you’re willing. There’s only that,” Aziraphale looked at his book and hesitated. “Being so close to me almost cost you everything. We never learned whether the Patriarch had any followers who might show up at any moment seeking old power. You might be safer if you were human as well. I’m sure this book could help me change you.”
Crowley’s smile faded, morphing into a sneer. “Is that what you want? For me to turn human? To give up what I am in order to stay with you?”
“No! I- I just wanted to give you the option, to help you be safe.”
The kelpie shook his head. “Not at the cost of giving up myself, Aziraphale. No more than I could ask you to turn into a horse forever to join me. But if you can accept me staying at your side just the way I am… I’m more than willing to do just that.”
The villagers accepted the new inhabitants of the Willow Cottage easily. After all, they were not strangers.
Sometimes they were two men, holding hands as they walked the paths along the river or had dinner at the alehouse. Sometimes they were two horses with flowing manes, frolicking on the meadows around the village and chasing each other through the woods. But they were always together, a team, a group of the two of them. And for the first time ever, nightingales sang in the village square.