Summary: The Knights of Winchester and their many adventures.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of the Supernatural Characters.
Also, screw historical accuracy. Have you seen Rick and Morty? This is fiction, and I can do whatever the hell I want! That being said, enjoy bitches!
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Epilogue:
As the ale passed his lips, Dean could feel every one of his muscles relax. He wore a soft grey leather jerkin over his undershirt, and his pants were still caked with dirt from the journey home. The day's tension eased with every soothing sip. He sighed, placing the mug back on the oaken bar, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the grooves in the wood.
"Come here often?"
A smile snagged at the corner of his mouth as he turned to look at Jo, the tavern keeper's daughter.
"I thought that was my line."
"I'll be sure to give you credit for it the next time it falls just short of landing."
The gentle clang of pewter against wood was music to Dean's ears. He traded the empty mug for the full one, beaming. "My angel…"
"Not quite," Jo scoffed.
"I was talking to my ale," Dean replied.
"You in town long?"
"For a couple days at least. We nabbed us a Griffin terrorizing some poor bastards to the North. Griffin's are tricky sons of bitches, you see they—"
"Jo!" Ellen came into view. "Bobby needs a refill. See to it."
"But Mom," Jo protested.
"Don't make me ask twice."
Jo reluctantly complied.
Before Dean could speak, Ellen turned on him.
"Now I don't appreciate you using such vulgar language around my Jo. I don't care what Order you belong to or what rank you claim, understand me?"
"Yes ma'am."
"She's a nice girl and doesn't need to get mixed up with you…"
Dean held his silence, taking another pull of ale.
"…or your hunts."
"Damn right," Dean wholeheartedly agreed. "But that wench over there," Dean gestured with his mug, "is nowhere near nice and is definitely waiting to get mixed up with a guy like me." Dean stood to his feet and nodded at Ellen. "Nice seeing you."
He made his way over to the girl's table and slid into the seat across from her. Dean smiled confidently and spoke with booze guided words.
"Now I'm sure you've heard of me but don't be too embarrassed if you haven't. The name's Dean, Dean of the Knights of Winchester."
The girl leaned forward, her breast resting on the table as she did. Dean's eyes faltered for a second, taking in their perfect shape before once again connecting with her eyes.
"And what's a big bad knight doing in a dive like this?"
"Looking for you."
"Me?"
"You."
"But why would you be looking for a me?"
"You see, I've been tasked with the responsibility of finding the most beautiful women in the land and inducting them into the Fairest Females Association."
"And how does one go about being inducted into this association."
"Simple." He patted the sword at his belt, "I show you how to polish my sword properly and test you to see how well you follow instruction."
"I happen to be great at following instruction," she cooed.
A hand thudded against his shoulder. "Listen pal…" Dean growled. He turned, disgruntled at first but instantly recognized his brother. "A little busy, Sammy."
"Afraid the induction's going to have to wait, Dean. We have orders." Sam held up the letter which was sealed with the Queen's seal.
Dean sighed, returning his attention to the girl.
"Sorry, sweetheart, another time."
"Shame," the girl sighed. "And I was looking forward to polishing your sword. I'm told I'm great with my hands."
As she walked away, Dean's mouth fell open slightly. He downed the rest of his ale and made his way back to the bar. Sam followed.
"Hello, Sam." Ellen said, polishing a mug.
"Ellen," Sam returned.
"Whiskey," Dean interrupted. "Make it a double."
Ellen poured the alcohol.
"How about you, Sam?"
Sam shook his head. "No thanks, Ellen. I'm good."
She shrugged and wandered toward the other side of the bar.
Dean knocked back the liquor before giving his full attention to Sam.
"Alright, what's so damn urgent."
"A raven just came delivering news of a disturbance in the South."
"What kind of a disturbance?"
"Get this—a wizard."
"A wizard?"
"Named Merlin."
"Wait, I thought the witches and wizard were wiped out or at least laying low."
"I thought so too, but apparently this guy popped up out of nowhere and started wreaking havoc, claiming to be the most powerful wizard of all time."
"Damn," Dean whispered. He shook his head slowly, "A wizard is going to make killing that Griffen seem like child's play." He held up his hand to claim Ellen's attention. "Ellen, we're going to need more whiskey and ale." He looked over at his brother and motioned to the barstool beside him. "Better make that two."
When Ellen dropped off their drinks, Dean raised his shot in Sam's direction. Sam grabbed the shot in front of him and clinked glasses with his brother.
"To ganking Merlin," Dean said. "We'll leave at dawn."
Dean pushed his stool back.
"Where you going?"
Dean smirked. "To give some orders of my own."
Sam shook his head and began drinking his beer.