SPIRIT OF CHAMPIONS - Dean/Cas AU
Author's Note: First AU, story, also available on my Livejournal (.com/) for the Dean/Cas Bigbang 2012. Please note there will one chapter with sexuality in the future.
Chapter 1
Dean sat hunched over in the chair, fingers tapping idly on the table. He stared down at the book before him, the words hardly catching his interest. He caught parts of the scripture; Angels are fierce and unforgiving...unworthy of trust...a pest to be hunted...merciless and powerful... everything Dean had already heard from his father, John. It was all he heard during training, whether it be with a sword, bow and arrows, bolas or spears, it was always about angel defence.
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, wood creaking in protest. Soon his lesson would be over, and he could be free to ride out to the meadow towards the river and the canyon, his favourite place to escape. Dean glanced around the library, eyeing the shelves lined with leather bound books and ancient scriptures from all over the Kingdom of Alkalyr and indeed, all over the world. They told of astrology and science, mythology and history, and of course, angel lore.
Chair sliding loudly across the stone floor, Dean hurried out the door as soon as his teacher Mr. Singer excused him. His footfalls echoed through the corridors as he ran out into the daylight. Across the courtyard, around the fountain, through the hedge garden to the stable. He found his horse, Impala, a beautiful black mare, and quickly took her out, the horse nickering happily as he did so. He set his saddle in place and hopped up, nudging her with his heels and he was off, racing across the cobblestone and out of the city.
Road soon turned to tall grass and forests on either side, the sun beating down hard on Dean's back as Impala galloped through the meadow, main flowing freely behind her. Dean let go of the reins for a moment, letting his arms outstretch to feel the wind across his body. This is what he loved doing so much; being alone and being free. He waited for the moments he could be alone to think or play with Impala, even just practice his fighting skills. Being twenty, he was soon expected to be his father's champion, so he needed to be ready.
The thought brought Dean back to his brother Sam, four years younger and obviously not going down the path involving violence. He was much more into knowledge and learning, often being found in the study area with a history book rather that a sword. Boring by Dean's standards, but part of him was proud Sam was choosing non-violence like many other kids did. Dean himself didn't really get a choice, being first born his father chose it for him. He was used to it now so it didn't bother him, but he sometimes wondered if he really had it in him to kill anything or anyone.
Impala banked sharply when a large mass of something black suddenly flew past, and Dean toppled from her back, crying out as he was thrown to the hard ground. His horse continued to run in panic even as he lay there, ribs aching and breaths coming in short bursts.
"Son of a bitch," Dean coughed, getting to his hands and knees. "What the hell?"
He got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his hands and pant legs before running off after his horse. Impala eventually slowed when she reached the tree line of the forest, her master's voice of reassurance finally reaching her ears. Dean came to her side, panting as he took her head in his hands and rubbed her nose. He whispered words of comfort to make her relax. He watched out into the meadow again, trying to find whatever had spooked his horse. At first, Dean jumped to the idea it was an angel, but they didn't usually come out this far towards the kingdom for fear of death, so he dismissed it.
The sun hovered in the sky still, and Dean relished the shade of the trees around him, so he tied Impala to the nearest tree and sat nestled in the roots of the wood, lying so his chin rested on his chest. He sighed and let his eyes fall shut. He listened to the sound of the rustling leaves, birds chirping, Impala pawing at the ground. It was peaceful, and Dean soon forgot about the incident with whatever had spooked his horse. At least, until it happened again, to the loud sound of whooshing and another dark shape in the sky.
With a loud whinny, Impala started jumping again, the only thing keeping her from running away being her reins tied to the tree. Dean startled and jumped to his feet, once again petting his horse and whispering to her until she found her state of calm. He explored this time, one hand sitting on the hilt of the sword at his hip as he watched the trees for whatever was flying around. He moved a little further into the trees, shafts of light guiding him through the canopy. An eerie feeling crept over him, like he was being followed. He could swear the unnatural rustling was following him.
Sure enough, he turned and there, perched in the midst of a tree's thick branches was a figure, staring down at him with eyes a piercing blue colour. Dean froze as he locked his gaze with the strange thing. It looked human, judging by the overall body shape, but one feature stood out; two massive black things protruding from its back. When it shifted and the light hit them, Dean saw they were wings. Instinctively he jumped into action, sword ripping out from its sheath.
Whereas he'd expected this beast to launch an attack, the glint of his sword actually made it shake and dive out of the tree, landing with a thud on the ground and hiding behind the tree. Dean honestly didn't know what to make of it, so he didn't attack, yet. This was an angel ,was it not? Weren't they supposed to be ruthless and fearless? Yet this one peered out from behind the tree curiously, wings curled around its sided protectively.
Dean had a really bad idea. "Uh, hello?"
The angel didn't move, merely blink and titled its head with curiosity. Something about its gaze and gentle facial expression made him falter in his plans to attack at all. Something was off, this wasn't how angels were supposed to act. Granted, he'd never actually met one, only ever hearing the stories. So he did the only thing he could have chosen not to do and sheathed his blade. Somehow, that only made it worse, because the angel leapt into the air and flew off through the trees with agile speed.
"Hey, wait! Hold on!" Dean yelled before he could think, running off after it. He followed as best he could, but the angel was made for speed, and the small space didn't seem to heed it in any way. It ducked around trees and doubled back, Dean slipping in the soft mud of the ground as he turned. When he straightened back up, he was alone, the angel gone and everything was silence.
Dean spent the next few days thinking about the encounter. It was like nothing he'd ever heard of before. It did however cause him to take more of an interest in his studies since he spent the time looking up all the information he could about angels. Everything was always the same; their vicious, merciless, fearless, deadly. So far, he hadn't seen any of that.
He hadn't been back out to the meadow since that day either, for fear the angel would be there and he wouldn't know what to do. Dean had considered telling his father, but he was sure John would have mounted a hunting party and likely killed the angel, and Dean, for whatever reason, didn't want that. He was curious about the angel, wanted to know about him and where he came from. Although as far as Mr. Singer was concerned, no human had ever made contact with an angel and lived. Except Dean did, sort of.
As Dean left his study session that day, deep in thought, Sam came up beside him, books piled in his hands.
"Hey, Dean. What's up?"
"Nothing, Sammy. Just thinking."
Sam snorted, "That's what I mean. I've never seen you so engrossed in your thoughts before. And you're actually studying during study period. What's up?"
"Nothing you need to worry about," Dean said, putting an arm around his little brother's shoulders. "Just, you know, thinking about fighting and stuff. Thought it wouldn't hurt to look up some stuff." He wasn't exactly lying, just relaying a false truth. He himself still wasn't quite sure what he was doing.
"I guess you would be a bit tense, what with the challenge coming up in a few days." Sam said pointedly.
Dean had almost forgotten. His father was expecting him to become a champion arena fighter, and that involved some hard core fighting, against demons, no less. Creatures more vile than angels. Of course, Dean was beginning to doubt how vile angel were in the first place.
"I heard they caught a few angels outside of the Western Kingdom," Sam went on. "They're going to be your challengers in the ring as well, most likely. You should brush up on angels."
Suppressing a laugh, Dean nodded. "I should, yeah. Angels, Jesus."
Sam hummed in agreement. "Formidable foes, if my reading were correct. They're powerful and bad tempered. Be mindful of their wings. Those things pack enough force to break more than a few bones if they hit hard enough."
Dean gulped despite himself. "Will do."
He and Sam split up soon after, and did not see each other again until dinner that night in the great hall, silverware glistening in the candlelight. The long table was piled on with food; vegetables from the outer villages, a pig roast in the centre, wine in the glasses. How did Dean get so lucky as to be the son of a manor house owner in a place like the Kingdom of Alkalyr?
"Dean," John spoke from the head of the table. "How is your combat training coming along?"
"Fine, father."
John took a sip of wine. "Good, very good. Would a demon stand a chance against you in a good fight?
"Not in the deepest pit of Hell." Dean said proudly.
"That's my boy!" John chimed, smiling. "Now Dean, the Western Kingdom has... graciously offered us an angel they captured in their mountains a few nights past. I've accepted the offer so that the wings beast may another fighter in the challenge. Which means, you would have to strike the infernal thing down."
Sam and Dean exchanged glances across the table, Sam's expression unreadable as he went back to poking at his food.
"I understand," Dean said slowly, then considered his next words carefully. "Dad, may I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"Why do we fight the angels?"
John faltered in his eating, a frown appearing on his face. "Dean, I've told you before, they are ruthless and merciless beasts. They can kill you at the speed of thought, and have no tolerance of humans. We have been fighting against them since they raided our cities many years back."
"Why did they attack?"
"They were angered because we'd taken their land and driven them out by force," John chuckled crudely. "Their land. Well, we showed them, struck dozens of the beasts down while the rest fled into the hills and highlands."
Dean stopped. "How do you kill an angel?"
John nodded with a smile. "I suppose you do need to know how. You'll find out next training day. It requires a very special weapon we obtained from the angels themselves during our battles. We managed to obtain quite a few."
Dean would be lying if he said his interest wasn't intrigued. Of course, his father resumed eating, denying him any further information for the time. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, and as soon as it was over, Dean was running back up to his room. He sat lying flat on his back, arms outstretched like that day on Impala, riding through the meadow. He sighed, feeling well fed and tired from the day.
Again, his thoughts turned to angels, and he mulled over the information his father had given him. He always described angels that way, everything and everyone did. But all Dean could think about was that angels innocent blue eyes and its fear of him. Perhaps it was a trick; the beast was trying to lull him into a sense of false security before striking. He wanted to believe that was the right answer, but he couldn't bring himself to do so.
What he did do was ask a servant to wake him before dawn. He had someplace to go.
