I had killed many men already–only the truly bad ones, of course–and it wasn't really me doing the killing anyway, that was my fellow dark knights' job, I really just helped lure in the bad guys and then I would play with them a bit, practice my fencing, then send the man off to the others.
"Hello?" I heard a voice call out faintly. I couldn't see them yet through all the fog, but I signalled to my men, and we started to make our way in the newcomer's general direction. They started talking again, something about the round table, so it must have been a "good knight" (I would be the judge of that).
"…am here to speak to the Black Knight!" I heard more clearly as we closed in on the group of visiting knights. I still couldn't make out the people that well, there were only a few of them. The one in charge had a rather high voice, I suspected they were still a boy, which made me feel a bit uneasy about jumping him.
"Oh, right. Um, hello…" The boy said to one of my men as he closed in, mistaking him for me. As I got closer, something felt very wrong, or strange, at least, about the whole situation, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it yet.
My men beckoned the boy closer, who followed. "I was hoping to meet with the Black Knight?" He asked expectantly. As the boy got closer, I approached. I probably wouldn't be killing him, although I needed a bit more time to assess him, but I could at least scare him. Maybe teach him a lesson, to stay out of grown men's work given the danger of it, for as long as he could.
"You have sought the Black Knight, foolish one. But you have found your death." I said in a grave voice. I was going over the top, I had my visor pulled down and everything, but this boy, this child was refusing to give me the time of day. Yes, I was getting a very odd feeling, one I hadn't felt for a long while, and couldn't put my finger on.
I examined the boy closer. They appeared normal enough, a mail shirt, armor around the shoulders and thighs, leather gloves, a sword at the belt. The boy lifted his visor and gave me a funny look. "Is that you under there, Crawley?" He asked. And suddenly it all clicked.
The feminine features I was greeted with when the visor was lifted, the high voice, the overdone politeness, the referring to me as 'Crawley.'
"Crowley." I corrected wearily, removing my own visor, allowing my face to show. You couldn't see much of me at the present, what with only my face visible, but I knew Aziraphale would recognize me, even from just my eyes. I hadn't changed much since the last time we met, but it would seem the angel had. She looked fierce almost, in all her armor (I say almost, because I knew better). When I lifted my visor, she lifted her helmet altogether. Her hair was still long, as it usually was, although a bit paler, more platinum, probably because she had had to keep it up and out of the sun for years, being a knight and all; her skin was much lighter too. She hadn't neglected either though, she looked pretty clean given her profession. And her hair was clearly brushed, woven into curled sections on either side at the top of her head, which then flowed in with the rest of her hair into loose curls. It was a good look for her, I had to say.
"What the hell are you playing at?" She demanded of me, jarring me back to the present. I had been so distracted, I hadn't even noticed that she'd cursed–lightly, of course, some might not even count hell as a curse word, especially given the fact that it was a real place, one where I happened to be from.
"It's alright lads. I know him, he's alright." I called out to my posse of dark knights over my shoulder, before returning to my angel friend. "I'm here spreading foment." I explained apathetically.
"What is that, some kind of porridge?" Aziraphale questioned quizzically. I almost laughed, it was funny that there was a word I knew of and the angel didn't, given how well-read she was, but I let it slide.
"No, I'm, you know, fomenting dissent and discord." I clarified. The angel should have known better at this point really, what else was there for me to do besides spread my usual demonic influence. "King Arthur's been spreading too much peace and tranquility in the land." I added. "So I'm here, you know, fomenting." I finished lamely.
Aziraphale appeared very perplexed. She closed her eyes in irritation, searching for the words to express her apparent annoyance, before settling on, "Well, I'm meant to be fomenting peace." She said haughtily.
Voicing what was on both of our minds, but had been too afraid to acknowledge, I said bluntly, "So we're both working very hard in damp places and just cancelling each other out?" It took the angel a moment to collect her wits before coming up with an appropriate response.
"Well, you could put it like that." She allowed. "It is a bit damp." She began, to which I rolled my eyes, hoping she hadn't thought that was the main issue with our situation I was calling attention to.
"Be easier if we both stayed home." I said innocently enough, inadvertently trying to tempt the angel. She gave me a queer look. "If we just sent messages back to our head offices," I continued, "saying we'd done everything they'd asked for, wouldn't it?" Of course, being an angel and all and having lots of experience in the refusing to succumb to temptation department, she caught me right away.
"But that would be lying!" Aziraphale protested indignantly. Ah, curse her perfect moral compass. She was very by-the-book, and it would take an awfully well-constructed, persuasive argument in order to convince her to abandon those principles.
"Aah." I uttered, shrugging slightly, not really addressing Aziraphale's point. "Eh, possibly, but the end result would be the same. Cancel each other out." I explained, hoping the use of logic might sway the virtuous angel.
"But, my dear fellow…" It always amused me when Aziraphale referred to me as a 'dear something.' She continued, "Well, they'd check!" I rolled my eyes as the angel attempted to explain her side of the argument.
"Michael's a bit of a stickler." She said. My thoughts flashed to Michael, who I would admit was a real pain in the arse, but most likely wouldn't interfere with our plans.
"You don't want to get Gabriel upset with you." She whispered, eyes going hazy, probably recounting her horror stories involving her and Gabriel. From what she'd told me, he was a real prick, the kind of guy I would punch if I saw, although there wasn't much I could do, him being an archangel and all. But even he wouldn't care about, or bother to check rather, the details of our earthly deeds.
"Oh, our lot have better things to do than verifying compliance reports from Earth." I insisted. "As long as they get the paperwork, they seem happy enough. As long as you're seen to be doing something, every now and again…" I watched Aziraphale closely, almost thinking she would warm up to the idea. Almost. I wasn't that naïve. As I finished my attempts at justification, she exploded.
"No! Absolutely not! I am shocked that you would even imply such a thing. We're not having this conversation! Not another word!" And with that, the angel wandered off, away from me. I had to say, I was impressed; I didn't think I had ever seen Aziraphale upset, she was always glowing with happiness, but I had managed to break that.
"Right!" I called out after her. "Right!" She reciprocated, still stalking off. I put my visor back down and raised my arms in defeat, returning to my dark knights. I would convince her one day. There were still thousands of years to come, and thousands had already passed. I would wear her down some day, not even she could resist me forever.
