Dean Winchester really hated royal parties. The small cobbled streets of Equiden had become littered with obnoxious rich people from foreign countries, and the servants were scrambling past carrying trays laden with deliciously sweet looking food. That was for the guests who had the privilege of being invited. Dean wasn't a guest. In fact, Dean wasn't much of anything. Just a lowly peasant thief. Not that he cared. Hell, his lifestyle suited him just fine. He took what he needed and he got by.
Although, Dean did find his eyes wandering to one of the trays. A tall, thin, gangly blond man in the obligatory royal uniform, blue with black buttons and lining, strode past with a tray of delicious baked good, assorted flavours of pie amongst it. The smell tingled at his nose, sending a hungry pang to Dean's stomach. Men in similar uniforms carried sandwiches, wraps, and a lot of other fancy shit that Dean couldn't recognise.
"Dean." He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked to the gangly seventeen year old behind him. "Dean, we need to get home. There's too many guards about."
"Jesus fucking Christ, Sammy, calm down." A confident grin fell on Dean's face. "I need to get me some of that pie first!"
Sam shook his head, tugging on Dean again. "Come on. If you get caught again, you'll end up in the dungeons. Didn't you hear Michael last time?"
Michael was Guard Captain of Equiden. He was a tall man, high cheekbones, short dark hair and always had a prideful look about him. Always turned his nose up around peasants like Dean, as though they weren't good enough to so much as breathe the same air as him.
"Screw Michael." Dean's reply surprised even himself. Not so much the words, as the tone. He hadn't meant to let so much anger out in only two words. His fist was clenched.
Sam rolled his eyes, grabbing Dean and practically dragging him past the crowd, towards the alleyway to their right - a shortcut to the tavern. Dean made a noise of protest, but he knew his brother had a point. Stealing from the rich people in the street was far different than stealing from the royal family. Still, the delicious, sweet smell of pie wafted through the thin dark passage he was being led through and Dean sighed wistfully as his stomach gave an angry grumble.
The Roadhouse, the town tavern which also doubled up as an inn, was one of the biggest buildings in town. It's white stony exterior stood out from the small hovels built around it, and dark brown beams complimented the edges. A small garden lay in front, a few petunias and roses grew beside the cobbled path that led through the massive brown double doors.
The inside was just as warm and friendly. Oak smoked wooden stairs to the right of the entrance paved the way to the humble upstairs bedrooms. The bar, in the downstairs area, was a larger room, apt for an inn. Despite pretty much everything being made out of wood and the room being big, the place was cosy.
"Boys!" A warm voice greeted them as Ellen waved enthusiastically at them from the bar.
Ellen was a beautiful woman. Hair dark blonde hair sat just below her shoulders, her lips full, and the sides of her eyes crinkled with the maternal smile that Ellen reserved for the boys, and of course Ellen's daughter, Jo. They had become family to Dean and Sam since the boys had become orphans. Dean didn't like to think about that day. The Roadhouse was their home now.
"Hey Ellen!" Sam grinned, kissing her on the cheek. "Jo about?"
Ellen shook her head and grumbled "who knows where that girl has gone off to now. Wouldn't tell me. You know what she's like."
Dean patted Ellen on the shoulder, a comforting gesture. "Got any grub, Ellen?"
"I had to stop Dean from stealing from the guard." Damn it, Sammy.
Ellen's expression mirrored Sam's, eyebrows drawn in disappointment and lips pursed. Her hands settled on her hips as she braced herself.
"Dean Winchester-" Ellen began, with the tone of a beginning lecture.
"Is a no good trouble maker!" A perky male voice yelled from the other end of the bar. Gabriel.
Gabriel was part of the guard, but he wasn't as bad as the rest of them. Sure, he liked to play jokes, he liked to make other people uncomfortable, but he never thought himself better than everyone, unlike the rest of the guard. He was shorter than the rest of them, too.
"Hey Gabe!" Dean grinned, thankful for the interruption. "Shouldn't you be out, uh, carrying trays or some shit like that with the rest of the guards?"
Gabriel snorted. "Not today, Dean-o. I got the job of running after dear Prince Castiel."
"The Prince?" Dean asked, taken aback. No one in town even knew what the prince looked like. "He's going to be there?"
Gabriel nodded.
"So, what, his highness too important for your services or somethin'?" Dean snarked with a chuckle, taking a seat beside his friend.
"The Prince is a complicated man." Gabriel answered simply, an uncharacteristically gentle smile playing on his lips.
Dean snorted this time. Gabriel was clearly omitting some details. Whatever. He could care less what some rich snob did with his spare time. Prince Castiel clearly cared little for his subjects - Dean - hell, most of the kingdom - had never seen hide nor tail of him.
The next few hours were spent with Gabriel, Dean allowing Ellen to forget that she was pissed at him. No further mention of the Prince was made - instead the focus of the conversation turned to Sam's love life.
"I mean, I've been around the village a little, right? But Sam- I don't know, he doesn't seem to even wanna try."
"isn't that your gangly freak of a brother hitting on that hot woman in the corner?" Gabriel asked with a chortle. Dean turned to look at the direction he had nodded in.
Son of a bitch.
There was his awkward, gangly brother chatting up a gorgeous blonde babe with full lips - Dean usually called them blow job lips. Her hand was rested on his arm, and they were gazing at one another intently. Dean snorted. "Looks like our Sammy's gettin' some tonight!"
Gabriel barked with laughter, nodding in agreement.
"Hey kiddo," Ellen was waving at Dean from the other end of the bar. "C'mere for a sec, will ya?"
Exchanging curt nods with Gabriel, Dean rose from his barstool as Gabe returned to nursing his ale.
"She's been gone for hours." Ellen muttered as Dean approached her.
"Let me guess - go find Jo?" Dean asked, already knowing the answer. Hunting for Jo and keeping her out of trouble was a regular occurrence for Dean.
"She's snuck into the castle again," Ellen sighed, "I just know it. I don't know why she does it."
"She said something about the gardens reminding her of her father." Dean replied, remembering the last time he had dragged Jo from the castle kicking and screaming. It was a wonder they hadn't been caught, even with Gabriel swinging his sword about, balancing it on his head and just performing strange and random tricks so that the rest of guards were distracted.
Ellen shook her head solemnly. "Her dad did have a tendency to sneak into the gardens too. Stupid reckless son of a bitch."
Jo's father - Ellen's husband - did indeed sneak into the castle a lot while he was alive. Peasants weren't allowed in, he told his wife and daughter. The forbidden aspect of it excited him, and the grounds were peaceful and calming. The gardens, he used to tell Jo, were his favourite part. Dean had never met Mr Harville. He was executed before the death of John and Mary Winchester - Dean and Sam's parents. Executed for sneaking into the castle. No one ever questioned it, even if it did seem an extreme sentence.
Without further ado, Dean kissed Ellen on the cheek and strode to the door, clapping Sam on the back as he passed him, who was sitting at one of the tables near the door chatting to a pretty blonde woman. He didn't need to drag him away from that. He could fetch Jo on his own. In fact, the less people the better. They couldn't risk being caught.
"Dammit, Jo." Dean muttered, crossing the path from The Roadhouse in swift strides, his eyebrows knitting together with worry. "What have you done this time?"
The streets were near empty now. Dean could hear cheers coming from near the castle. A crowd of villagers stood around the wide dirt road that led to the castle's drawbridge. Dean found himself wondering what the commotion was, but he had no time to dwell, he realised. There was a side entrance - the one that Jo would have used to get in. Dean just had to swim across-
"Dean!" Came an excited yell from the crowd. Oh. Chuck. The town bard. "Dean, c'mere!"
The bearded man was grinning from ear to ear, stepping towards Dean and drawing his arm around him in a friendly gesture. Dean's stomach tightened. The longer he was kept here, the more danger Jo was in. He had to keep moving, but he couldn't arouse suspicion. Sure, he trusted Chuck, but the less people that knew about this the better.
"They're bringing in suitors for the Prince!" Chuck almost squealed in excitement. "Oh, the stories I could create with this!"
Against his better judgement, Dean froze. Suitors? The Prince was to be married off? This only happened in Equiden when there was to be a new king.
Dean smiled weakly as he watched a horse and carriage approach the drawbridge, a regal looking man perched atop with the reigns tightened on a tall, white horse. The carriage itself was a dark green.
"Princess Meg of Demanion" a man who Dean could not see over the top of the crowd announced. The voice didn't sound familiar.
Princess Meg peered at the crowd with the air of someone who had just been thrown amidst cockroaches, a wry smile playing on her face. Her brown hair curled just above her shoulders, and her dress - a velvet emerald corseted ensemble - tightened at her waist, her breasts pushed upwards. Dean let out a low, quiet whistle. Chuck grinned wider.
As the horse dragged the elegant carriage across the drawbridge and out of sight beyond the castle walls, another carriage was drawing nearer. This one was a sleek black, to match the huge horse that clopped along with it elegantly. She was a beauty.
"Princess Anna of Durnkirk" Dean heard the announcer say. He then caught a glimpse of the attractive redheaded woman in the carriage. She looked out at the crowd, her expression unreadable. If Dean didn't know any better, he would have assumed that she really would rather be anywhere else. Her sleeves on her white dress sat below her shoulders, laced material covering her breasts.
The carriage was pulled out of sight beyond the castle walls once again, as another approached, pulled by a small grey horse, almost a pony, but still elegant. This carriage was a bright blue - matching the eyes of the woman inside. Her brown hair was pinned atop her head elegantly, a dainty crown on top. She was draped in jewels and pearls, all the shows of someone who had never experienced going without anything in her life. Her dress was a blue chiffon outfit.
"And finally, Princess Naomi of Havania" came the announcers voice. The horse neighed, clopping past the crowd. Princess Naomi, unlike the other two, payed no heed to the subjects around her, choosing instead to look up at the castle, determination set in her eyes.
"Prince Castiel is a lucky man" Chuck sighed wistfully.
"Nah, man." Dean chuckled, clapping his friend on the back. "I mean, I guess I'd do Princess Anna, but I couldn't marry any of them. Too snooty for my taste."
"Yeah, I know, but look at them!" Chuck replied, his hands gesturing towards the castle's now closing gate. "I mean, come on, you wouldn't marry them?"
"I'd kinda need to know what I'm getting myself in for, Chuck. None of those women look even a little bit approachable." Dean replied, then added "Anyway man, I, uh, I gotta go. Ellen needs me to run an errand for her." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie, was it?
Chuck nodded, patting Dean's arm in a friendly manner. "I'll see you later then! I'll be singing at the tavern tonight!"
"Can't wait!" Dean said, applying his best shit eating grin. Truth be told, Chuck was an awful bard. The stories he told were great and all, but he was a terrible singer. Of course, Chuck didn't seem to realise this, and Dean wasn't one to piss on someone else's parade.
Losing sight of the crowd, Chuck included, Dean circled the left side of the castle. The surrounding water crashed around almost warning him off, but Dean had done this plenty of times. He wasn't about to leave Jo to be executed like her dad.
Crossing the water wasn't hard, though in hindsight, Dean wished he had at least stripped down to his underwear and flung his clothes to the other side. At least then he would have something to warm himself up with.
Shivering, Dean made his way to the small gated entrance. The entrance was barely noticeable by the untrained eye, and it was always locked. Not much of a boundary for Dean, though, who picked locks for a living. With a swift click, the side door swung open, beckoning Dean into the dark entrance.
So this is my first stab at an SPN fic. I hope I've managed to keep the characters true to the show. Reviews would be much appreciated! Constructive criticism welcome! Also if you review I will love you forever. Don't you want my love?! No, but seriously - I would like to know if I'm on the right track here. Next chapter coming up ASAP!