Title: The Phoenix
Rated: M
Summary: AU. The Second Rebellion is underway and the Kingdom of Winchester is struggling. The angels are stuck in a cold war and an old friend returns, threatening Castiel and Dean's relationship. Castiel doesn't even know how to be an angel. How is he supposed to help save Dean's cursed kingdom? (Sequel to the Raven)
A/N: So the sequel has arrived! Yay! In this fic, you'll be seeing behind the curtain of the elusive angel kingdom, you'll get a more in-depth look at Sam and Gabe's relationship, and maybe, if I work hard enough, you'll experience the full spectrum of human emotion, including manic laughter and gross sobbing. There will be very M rated things, such as graphic sexy times, lots of swearing, and some descriptive violence. I'm not sure exactly when I'll begin posting, but I'm aiming to be more than halfway done before I start so I get get updates to you lovely readers quickly.
Just a quick thank you to everyone who's read The Raven and my other fics. I would literally not be doing this without you. Review this story to your heart's content, even if it's an all-caps rant about how angry you are at the the gross sobbing parts I mentioned earlier. So now, please enjoy The Phoenix.
Chapter One
Thump. Castiel landed a few yards from Bobby's front door, avoiding the hydrangeas. He was getting better at landing- it was no longer curl up in a ball and hope for the best.
He shook his hair out of his eyes. Dean said he should get it cut soon. A little bit of pain twinged in Castiel's chest. He missed Dean. He hadn't seen him in nearly a week now, and that was like eternity to him.
Castiel rolled his shoulders and folded his wings. He stepped inside Bobby's house to the sound of crashing.
"Dammit ya idjit! I toldja I don't hide sweets up there!" Bobby was glaring at Gabe, Castiel's newly appointed "assistant", who sat atop one of his bookcases with a box in his hands.
"It's an Augustus Chocolate box, what do you expect me to think?" He scowled into the box. "It's just extra pens. You get my hopes up for nothing, Bobby."
"We can get you some chocolates in a few days," Castiel smiled up at his best friend, who grinned down at him.
"Cassie! We have a surprise for you!" Gabe managed to leap down from the six-foot-tall bookshelf. "I didn't have much to work with, but Bobby patches up his own clothes, so we at least had a needle and thread." The shorter man rifled through a pile of cloth. "Ah, yes, here." He handed Castiel what looked like a nice shirt.
"I don't understand. What-" He turned the shirt over to see reinforced slits cut into the back for wings, and buttoned extensions of that slit down to the hem, allowing Castiel to remove the shirt without upsetting his wings.
"Wow!" he took it from Gabe. "Thank you!"
"Least we could do, boy. You've been translating everything for me in between your workin' times."
"And you always make that face when you have to take your shirt off." Gabe put on a serious expression and furrowed his brows and grimaced.
"Is that what I look like?" Castiel's hand reached behind him to one of his sore wings. They had grown stronger in the few weeks since they'd sprouted from his back, and they were firm and sinewy now.
Gabe laughed and patted Castiel on his bare shoulder. "You can't test it today though. You've got the thing with Michael."
Castiel bit back a groan. He was finally going to meet with the two Commanders of the angels today. It would be the first meeting, just a conversation spelling out that the humans wanted to form some sort of alliance, and the details were open for discussion. Still, he was nervous.
Castiel had only been introduced to a few angels. Crowley had taken it upon himself to help Castiel out, and though he was the "Independent Party", he had shown his support for the new angel's endeavor to unite human and angel kind alike. Castiel had met Crowley's right hand women: Bela and Ava.
Bela was sly and flirtatious, with a sharply angled face and bright hazel eyes. Ava was sweeter, with soft features and an easy smile. It was amazing to see them with Crowley. They teased him endlessly, like sisters would, but Castiel could see from their body language that they were not to be trifled with.
Ava and Bela had taught Castiel how to properly clean and maintain his wings. He had felt incredibly awkward in the river with the three, naked as the day he was born. This, apparently, wasn't uncommon. Ava and Bela threw their clothes at the edge of the river like they couldn't care less if someone took them.
Castiel was still getting used to it. He was learning that it was a friendly gesture to touch the back of an angel's wings. Ava and Bela talked animatedly about the rich raven color of the feathers as they scraped the dirt and salt away from the skin. They wouldn't touch the undersides of his wings though. That was for a mate only.
Crowley had given Castiel a pair of pants to wear, which was the only thing that male angels wore. The women wore the same sort of pants, though a bit shorter, and these halter-type shirts. There was a strap that went around the neck, and thin pieces attached to the sides that could be tied under their wings. It was wild, but efficient.
"Cassie," Gabe snapped Castiel out of his thoughts.
"Right, shower." Castiel bathed himself quickly, combing his fine feathers with his oil to protect them. He donned the surprisingly soft brown pants and shook the water out of his hair.
"Crowley's waiting outside," Bobby grunted when Castiel walked down the stairs.
"Because you wouldn't let me in," Crowley's voice floated through the window.
"You're damn right," the man huffed. "After what you did to that book, you deserve a lot more than house exile."
"I'd love to flirt later Bobby, but Castiel and I have a meeting to attend. Send him out."
Bobby patted him on the back, and Gabe crushed him into a quick hug. "You got this, Cassie."
"Thank you," Castiel took a breath and walked outside. Crowley had a heap of something in his arms. There were beads and leaves and gems and…
"Is that jewelry?"
"Of course it is," Crowley dumped it on the ground. "You're not going to visit the Commanders with a bare neck. These are carcanets, and they show power and prestige." He started rifling through the pile, and Castiel noticed that he wore his own.
"You have quite a few," Castiel observed.
Crowley looked down at his own neck. "Earned every one of them, love," he continued rifling. "Garnet and obsidian is my signature. For you…" He pulled out several large strings. "Gold and sapphire should do. Oh, and maybe some lapis lazuli."
He piled on the carcanets until Castiel was sure he looked like a king or something. His neck muscles were going to get quite a work out as well.
"Now, show me your greeting," Crowley stepped back.
Castiel bowed his head, aware of the weight shifting on his neck, and spread his wings wide and angled downwards. The carcanets tickled the closest feathers, but it wasn't as distracting as Castiel thought it would be.
"When greeting the highest power, make a fist and lay it over your heart," Crowley instructed. Castiel did so, and the red-winged angel smiled. "Good. You're ready."
Castiel felt a brief spark of nerves, but they fled quickly. It was a decent walk before they would reach Michael's territory and Castiel suggested they give Michael's guard enough time to observe them before they met with the Commander. Flying into their airspace could mean attacks from angels who haven't heard of the plans for a meeting.
So they walked. And as they walked, they encountered more of Crowley's angels, or, at least, who Castiel thought were Crowley's angels. Bela and Ava were with them, so at least Castiel knew there was little threat of danger.
"Hello, Castiel," Ava landed softly next to him, nudging his wing with hers. "Good luck today."
"Thank you, Ava," he said with a little smile.
A man padded up to Crowley seemingly from nowhere and whispered in his ear. He was tall, with sandy blonde hair and an expression on his face that was much older than the angel looked.
Crowley caught Castiel looking at the new angel. "Castiel, this is Gadreel, my eyes and ears for the human world."
"It is an honor," Gadreel bowed to Castiel, fist over his heart. His wings were a sandy tan, the exact color of his hair. It was weird seeing that directed to himself.
"I'm not a king, there's no need for that," Castiel mumbled, shifting nervously.
Gadreel cleared his throat. "My apologies."
After a moment, the group continued walking. "What's happening in the human world?" Castiel found himself asking.
Gadreel glanced at Crowley, who nodded. "Some riots, several dead," he said. "No attacks to the castle or surrounding land, though."
Castiel let out a relieved breath. He felt bad that there was still violence being made, but Dean wasn't in trouble, not right now, and that was good to Castiel.
There was silence after that, and in ten minutes, Gadreel dropped back and flew away. A few minutes after that, Ava brushed his wings and disappeared. "We're getting close," Crowley explained. "Just act as I said and you'll be fine. And remember, Michael has a rubbish sense of humor."
Castiel's heart leapt into his throat as they neared a clearing. He could see angels sitting in the surrounding branches, watching them come closer. There were a few on the ground, and most of the carried spears. Two of the spear carriers stopped them at the entrance of the clearing.
"State your business," a man with dark skin and olive wings stood in their way, hard expression on his face.
"Raphael, let them pass. It's Castiel, isn't it?" an easy voice floated from inside.
Crowley took a few steps backwards. "You know where to find me, afterwards," he said. When Castiel stayed frozen, he motioned for him to go inside.
With a gulp, the raven-winged angel walked into Michael's clearing. It was… surprisingly beautiful. The Commander was sitting in what looked like a lightening-struck tree, split down the middle with the back branches fanning downwards. About fifteen feet up, a throne had been carved, and Michael sat regally on it. His chest was decorated with carcanets of gold and white opal, clean enough to sparkle in the beams of light filtering through the trees.
Castiel could see from his spot on the ground that Michael's eyes were green, like Dean's, but with much less warmth in them. His hair was a rich brown, combed neatly back, and his large wings were a dark metallic gold. He looked indisputably royal.
"Commander," Castiel remembered, bowing with his fist over his heart, as Crowley had instructed. "My name is Castiel, and I'm here to represent humankind."
Michael chuckled, though his smile didn't reach his eyes. "An angel, negotiating on behalf of the humans. I thought I'd never see the day."
"Yes, well," Castiel shifted from foot to foot. "My Grace was bound when I was very young, so I grew up essentially human. However, I am an angel, now fully endowed with my Grace, and I believe that is a good background for someone who is to act as an emissary between the two species."
Michael sat back, contemplating Castiel's words. "Logic would see it that way. But why should I believe that your allegiance does not lay solely with the humans? Look around you." Castiel's eyes flitted nervously around the clearing, but he stood tall. "Our numbers are few. Your ancestors hunted us, forcing us to flee to the forest, to hide ourselves away. Why should I believe you do not mean us harm?"
Castiel was ready for this one. "It is true I grew up human, and thus empathize with them, but I am biologically, mentally, and spiritually an angel. I will never be accepted as a human again, and I do not wish to be. Inside, I want to bring the two halves of myself together, and I believe an alliance between our kingdoms would benefit everyone."
Michael nodded. "Your words are true. I know that you wish to do us no harm. What of the other humans?"
"I am an olive branch. The human kingdom of Winchester wishes to communicate with angels. They have not come themselves with swords or cannons. They sent me, an unarmed ambassador, to show you that they want to remain peaceful."
"And what do they wish to communicate to us now?"
Castiel opened and closed his mouth. "Uh, this is just a preliminary meeting. What would you think of a sort of alliance? Or a peace treaty? Nothing binding today."
Michael scowled down at him, and Castiel could feel it like a weight. "It has always been my belief that angels are superior to humans in every way. The best option, in my opinion, would be for the king of Winchester to submit to me and hand over his subjects." Michael said this so casually, as if he were only musing, and Castiel had to fight to keep his hands from balling into fists.
"I don't believe the humans would agree to that," Castiel said slowly, voice dropping a few notes.
Michael seemed to pick up on his irritation and smiled. "Bring me a proposal, then. Bring me a designed treaty, with written laws allying the Kingdom of Winchester and the Garrison.. I want to see what the humans come up with." He snapped his fingers at a nearby tree, and an angel dropped to the ground and bowed. "Zachariah, you will do the same. Try to be as… fair… as possible. We will meet here at a later date to discuss."
Zachariah gave Castiel a nasty smile. The blue-eyed angel didn't think Zachariah would be as fair as even Michael would be.
Michael looked like he was about to wave the two away, but paused. "Who are you, Castiel?" he asked.
What did he mean? Castiel tried not to squirm under the weight of Michael's gaze. "I'm the representative, a fairly new angel, but still-"
"I mean," Michael cut him off, "what is your lineage? What generation are you? Who are your parents? And why, on god's green earth, was your Grace bound for so long?"
Castiel opened and closed his mouth like a fish. He didn't know. He hadn't even thought about that, with all the events going on. "I-I don't know," he stuttered.
For a moment, Michael stared at him like a puzzle. Castiel began to sweat. Then, as if a string were cut, Michael dropped back into his chair. "You are dismissed," the Commander waved his hand, bored expression taking over his features.
Castiel bowed and walked quickly out of the clearing. When Raphael resumed his position in front of the entrance, Castiel dug his heels into the ground and took off.
He flew fast and hard to Crowley's favorite spot by the river. Michael's words were concerning. He felt so small fifteen feet below the commanding angel, his words constricting and contemptuous. Castiel disliked him immensely.
When he reached the river, Crowley's little rag-tag team was waiting anxiously for him. Too emotionally drained to explain, Castiel flopped on the ground, remembering at the last second to fold his wings over the sensitive spots.
"That bad, huh?" Bela sat next to him.
"You still have Lucifer today," Crowley called. The smell of roasting meat wafted over Castiel, and he groaned. "Come on, eat up. You'll want your strength for round two."
o o o
Dean rubbed his eyes again. "Show me the contracts again."
Two nobles were in the middle of a heated dispute over the borders of their lands. Lord Devereaux claimed that Lord Gaines stole and slaughtered almost fifty of his cattle to sell, and Lord Gaines insisted that the cattle were his, on his property, maintained by his servants. The debate was quite close to the line where their properties met, and there were no servants that could give an accurate location. They were all scared shitless.
Dean didn't have time for these petty quarrels. So far, only one village had been decimated by a rebel attack, but there would be more. He needed more troops, troops that he didn't have, and he needed to focus.
The door to the throne room banged open, and Dean was strung out enough to yell at whoever was going to disturb them, but it was Sam, and Sam had a grave expression on his face. He murmured something to Dean's guards, Jody and Donna, and they nodded.
As Sam approached, Lords Devereaux and Gaines stood and bowed. "This discussion is to be tabled for next week," Dean told the two nobles. "My brother and I have important matters to attend to."
Devereaux looked pleased and Gaines looked angry, but they both bowed and left without another word.
Before Dean could say anything, Sam held up a little leather-bound book with a small gold "JW" etched in the front.
"Dad's journal," Dean blinked. "Where'd you find it?"
"I was going through some of his old stuff, and I found something in it, something you should see." The Winchesters left the throne room and slipped into an empty conference room, Jody and Donna standing watch.
"Dean," Sam took a deep breath, "we have another brother."