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His first mistake was approaching on a white steed in full plate. The area around the tower had been cleared of most trees, though not all, that wouldn’t be sporting, and from the top windows one could see for miles and miles around. So, that was the first mistake. The silly knights armour could be seen shining in the morning sun from the moment he crested the far hill.
Princess Aziraphale could, at least, appreciate the timeliness.
She watched him approach from her window seat, a book open in her lap. This particular window was her favourite one in the tower, it let in just the right amount of light to read by from dawn until dusk. That it also gave her the perfect view to watch the main road to her tower was neither here nor there.
By the time her visitor had made it close enough to disappear under the windowsill, Aziraphale had nearly forgotten about him. Nearly, but not nearly enough to be surprised when he called, “Princess! Tis I, Sir Gabriel Archer, who hast come to free you from your imprisonment!”
Aziraphale delicately placed a white silk ribbon in her book to mark her place and set the book on the seat beside her so she could lean out her window without worrying about dropping it.
She nearly sighed at the sight at the base of her tower for the knight had, indeed, worn full plate armour. The fool. “And who, may I ask, has sent you?” She asked, sure she knew the answer.
“Why, your father, of course! His Majesty, King Met, dearly wishes his daughter returned to him!”
Yes, as she expected. Aziraphale leaned a little further to better see this knight, recognizing the winged sword heraldry upon his shield, aand gazed at him from above a box full of red chrysanthemums, yellow yarrow, and baby’s breath flowers. “I suspect he offered you a generous reward for such a task.”
“Of course! Your hand, Your Highness!” He slammed his armoured fist against his equally as armoured chest. “I swear, upon my honour as a knight and my fidelity as an alpha, to defend and protect you until my dying breath!”
Aziraphale nearly told him he needn’t have bothered and to just go home but a low rumbling chuckle shook her tower.
From the knights view below, black claws curled around the towers roof, a long, black tail wrapping around the circumference just below the open window. To his credit, Sir Gabriel held firm when a massive, scaled head rose over the claws and even raised his sword.
Aziraphale turned away and picked her book back up, refusing to look even when heat and light flashed just outside. Though she couldn’t bring herself to go back to her reading.
Moments later a shadow fell over her from behind and her nose caught the scent of smoke and apples and alpha. “I assume you cleaned up after yourself.”
“‘Course.” Came the reply along with the tap tap tap of claws on wood. “Not even a scorch mark.”
Aziraphale breathed a breath of relief and glanced over her shoulder.
The figure crouched in the window was lithe and angular, long, messy, red hair falling over a thin leather-clad shoulder. She was dressed in all leather, actually, all the way down to too-tight trousers with bat-like wings folded behind her back. Aziraphale’s lips quirked and she relaxed a fraction. “Come sit, then, you beast, and quit hanging in the window like a feral baboon.”
The grin she received in return was full of sharp teeth that Aziraphale knew would never hurt her and the alpha dropped into the window seat, long tail still hanging out the window like the heathen she was.
Aziraphale rolled her eyes and managed a smile before it fell. “I do wish he’d just stop sending them. I’d hate for one of Fathers knights to end up hurting you some day, Crowley.”
Crowley blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Don’t be worried. It’ll take much more than a measly knight to take you away from me.”
“I know, but I still worry.” That also wasn’t what she’d said but Aziraphale leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek. “Just do be careful for me, won’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Crowley huffed and turned her head to capture Aziraphale’s lips in a soft kiss, a scared mark visible on her throat. “Anything for my mate.”