AN: A Supernatural royal Au, because royal AUs are wonderful. Personally, I prefer Archive of Our Own for this story, but that's up to you. Link to my archive account is on my profile. There is also fanart for this, which can be seen in the version on Archive, and is by nikaalexandra on tumblr.

"You don't really think that your father's going to banish him, do you?"

Castiel dragged his hands down his face, feeling tired right down into the hollow centers of his bones. He was leaning on his elbows across Dean's dining table, unsure if he was glad to be away from the drama of the castle or worried that something important was happening in his absence.

"It's starting to look very likely," he told the blacksmith. "You can hear their fights throughout most of the castle now."

Dean made a sympathetic face and set a bowl down in front of Castiel. It smelled like fish and he poked disinterestedly at it with his spoon.

"Eat." Dean ordered, sitting down next to him and nudging an elbow into his ribs. "You haven't been eating lately. Don't think I haven't noticed."

"We haven't had dinner as a family for a while," he said by way of explanation. "I don't much care for eating alone." Nonetheless, he did begin eating his stew.

"I guess the family feud would put a bit of a damper on meal time, huh?" Dean's tone was hovering somewhere between trying to lighten the mood and trying to be supportive.

"I keep hoping that it will all be over soon, that Lucifer will come to his senses. But he and our father simply refuse to listen to each other. And Michael-" He cut off, uncertain if he should tell Dean about his eldest brother's meddling.

"And Michael…?" It would have been too much to hope that Dean wouldn't notice the abrupt end to his sentence.

Castiel just nodded. "And Michael." At least Dean would usually let a subject drop if Castiel made it clear he didn't want to continue with it. He sighed and leaned his head to rest on Dean's shoulder. "This is the only place I'm not being pulled apart these days. Lucifer keeps coming to us for help."

"What do you tell him?"

"I tried to convince him that such a large war would destroy us. He is very determined, however."

"It runs in your family."

"I would prefer if the determination did not involve bloodlust." And perhaps a bit less screaming too. He couldn't remember the last time he had heard his father raise his voice in anger before this; now he seemed to do little else so long as Lucifer was around.

Dean's fingers began to card through Castiel's hair and he hummed in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut, tension bleeding out of him. He could fall asleep like this, had before, in fact. Dean's arms were always warm and secure, and it didn't matter which of them was holding which, they fit together the way Castiel had once thought people could only fit together in the most fanciful of stories.

He felt Dean's lips on the top of his head some time later. "Cas. It's getting late."

He sounded regretful and Castiel heaved a sigh to show he agreed, slowly pushing himself up and away from Dean. Instantly, he felt cold all throughout. He leaned over and kissed Dean once, mouth full of regret and longing and wishes for things to be different. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Dean's hand ran lightly down his side. "Don't feel the need to come if things are bad. Your family comes first."

"You feel as much like family as them," Cas told him, not for the first time. Dean never seemed willing to accept it, but he wasn't about to stop saying it. "I'll come by, even if it's only for a few minutes." He kissed him again, lightly, and left.

All Castiel really wanted was to retreat to the privacy and security of Dean's bedroom, far away from his family's drama and the politics of the castle. They had been doing this for nearly a year now, and before Lucifer had begun to insist on war it had been easy for Cas to sneak off unnoticed, sometimes for the entire night. Now, every member of the royal family was being watched by someone or other and they were strongly urged not to go far while things were unstable.

Castiel knew he wasn't the only one chafing at the restrictions either. With the exception of Michael, who followed the king everywhere anyway, and Lucifer, who was the reason for all the unrest in the first place, none of the Novak family was dealing well with being cooped up like this. Castiel was concerned that the attempt to make the royal family appear stable would simply make things worse in the end.

He passed Balthazar in the hallway and his brother invited him to join him to eat. Castiel declined, claiming not to be hungry, which was actually true for once, since he'd eaten with Dean. That didn't stop Balthazar from looking hurt, and Castiel hurried on, pretending not to notice. His brother wasn't enjoy the fighting anymore than he was, but while Balthazar preferred drinking his problems away and seeking company, Castiel would much prefer to be left alone with his thoughts. Their opposing methods were beginning to take a strain on their relationship. Castiel hoped it would be over soon, but also dreaded to think what that would mean. Lucifer wasn't the type to just give up.

Hoping to retreat into his room and be left undisturbed for the rest of the night, Castiel opened his door, slipped in, and shut it firmly behind him.

"There you are, Castiel."

Castiel nearly jumped out of his skin before it registered that the voice belonged to his younger brother. "Samandriel. How long have you been in here?"

One of Samandriel's shoulders raised and dropped in a disinterested shrug and he got up from where he'd been sitting on Castiel's windowsill. "Maybe thirty minutes. I've been avoiding Lucifer all day."

"What does he want from you?" Samandriel, being the youngest, had the benefit of having the least exposure to politics of all of them, which made it seem unlikely that Lucifer would consider him to be a great ally in this.

"He wants me to convince father that, with the right tactics, we coulddefeat Hellacia, Purgavai, and Humaear all in one war."

"Could we?" Castiel didn't want to, whether it was possible or not, but if Lucifer could be convinced he was being rash perhaps this whole thing could pass over quietly.

"No! We could maybe, maybe, defeat two of them if we had the help of the third. At a stretch it may be possible to defeat two of them if the third is neutral, but there'd be so much damage to us that we probably wouldn't have much of a kingdom left afterward. Edengar has fantastic defenses, that doesn't mean we should go trekking off to war."

Castiel supposed Samandriel would know better than anyone else in the family. He had been following the soldiers around since he was old enough to pester them with questions. Their father used to laugh about it, saying it took him seven tries but he finally had a child with a head for military tactics. Samandriel had been going on patrols and participating in training sessions with the men since he was thirteen, though he was never allowed far from the castle.

"Did you tell Lucifer that?"

Samandriel looked like he thought Castiel was an imbecile for asking. "Of course I did. He went off on me about how I'm on Michael and father's side." He paused and actually looked upset for a moment before schooling his face back to the stiff expression he used with his soldiers. "He's been paranoid recently, have you noticed?"

"He's been a lot of things recently, none of them good."

Samandriel nodded with unhappy agreement. "Do you think father's going to follow through on his threat to banish him?"

Castiel couldn't remember the last time he had so desperately wanted to lie. He wanted nothing more than to tell Samandriel what they both wanted to hear, to treat him like his little brother who had come looking for reassurance, rather than like Prince Samandriel, a soldier of the King's Army. But Samandriel wouldn't appreciate it, or even the thought of it, and Castiel knew it. "If he doesn't stop this campaign of his? I've never known our father to not follow through on his threats."

Samandriel nodded sadly. He had known the answer, of course, but Castiel knew it hurt him as much to hear it as it hurt Castiel to say it.

Samandriel left the room quietly, not saying anything else to Castiel. Castiel lay down, wishing he could fall asleep, but knowing he was too worried to even shut his eyes.

"Father, this cannot be allowed to continue."

Prince Michael and King Charles were alone in the king's chambers, the windows all securely latched and the double glass doors leading onto the balcony shut and locked. Michael had cautioned that Lucifer may attempt to eavesdrop on the king's conversations in order to better prepare his next argument.

Charles was rubbing at his temples, and Michael thought it looked like his hair was beginning to thin out and turn gray. The constant arguing was wearing on the man's health. "He's my son as much as the rest of you, Michael. I can't turn him away at the slightest irritation."

"You wouldn't be. You've warned him that you'd be forced to banish him if he didn't give up on this fool plan of his, and he insists on continuing to press the point. If you don't banish him you'll be seen as weak. No one will take your threats seriously any longer, we will be in danger of invasion."

And yet the king persisted in looking hesitant. "Perhaps he just needs a little more time to come to his senses."

"Father, he's had months. He hasn't backed down, if anything he's grown more insistent. He isn't going to change his mind on this; he is determined to have a war."

"But why? He wouldn't be involved in much of the fighting; he's a soldier but he's also second in line for my throne. He knows he wouldn't be allowed to go into the thick of the battles more often than not. Why would he want a war so much?"

Michael struggled to not roll his eyes in front of the king. Was he really so oblivious? "He hates them, surely you've noticed. Hellacians, Purgavains, even the Humaearans. He doesn't like having treaties with them, being allies with them, anything. He'd rather see them all burned to the ground. He doesn't even care who does the burning, as long as it gets done."

His father's face made him realize that the king had been perfectly aware of Lucifer's unexplained hatred for their neighboring countries, but hadn't liked hearing it stated so bluntly. Michael softened his voice. "Father, he is not going to stop. Everyone else is getting restless about being kept in the castle so much. The soldiers are getting nervous because Samandriel has suddenly stopped going out on patrols, and is even kept from training sessions a great deal of the time. This cannot continue."

Charles nodded. "I know that, Michael. You think I don't? But he is still my son. Don't expect me to cast him aside like he's an old cloak that's had a hole worn through it. It's more complicated than that. He's your brother, do you really want him gone so badly?"

Michael swallowed. His opinions on what should be done about Lucifer were complicated at best. But if he'd learned one thing in training to take over his father's throne it was that he had to do what was best for the kingdom first, his own emotions could not be allowed to interfere. Lucifer being gone would be best for the kingdom, Michael had no doubt about that, at least. And with his father being so reluctant he had to stand by his opinion.

"What I want doesn't matter right now. Lucifer has backed himself into a corner, there is no other choice. You can't back down on your threat, your majesty."

King Charles didn't look at him, but nodded again. "I suppose you're right about that much, Michael. Leave me alone for a while. I need to think."

Michael left without further argument, but prepared himself to have to join the debate again the next day. It seemed unlikely that the king would give in so easily.

If one more person told Samandriel that his father would prefer for him to stay inside the castle he was going to take them up to the battlements and throw them off the side. He'd had enough of being punished for Lucifer's attitude problem, he was going back to his soldiers, and if his father had an objection he was going to have to come down and deliver it in person.

"Prince Samandriel!" Zachariah, the Commander of the Royal Army and one of the only soldiers who outranked Samandriel on the battlefield, sounded unpleasantly surprised. "I'm sorry, your highness, I was told you wouldn't be rejoining us for some time."

Samandriel had no doubt Zachariah would have preferred that. He'd never liked the idea that someone not even half his age would very likely be taking over his job in the not-so-distant future. Besides that, it was no secret that the men liked Samandriel more.

"I'm afraid you were misinformed, Commander. I'm here for morning training."

Zachariah gritted his teeth, but nodded. "Of course, your highness. The men are down on the field."

Samandriel knew that already, that's where he had been heading when Zachariah intercepted him, but he nodded politely, side-stepped around the commander, and continued on his way.

The clang of sword on shield and armor was vaguely reassuring to him, old and familiar, free from the unrest oozing from the castle's very walls. Already dressed in light chainmail, sword sheathed at his hip, Samandriel smiled at the small handful of soldiers who had already noticed him, and stood at the edge of the training area, watching.

One of the men went down in a crash of armor. "Uriel!" Samandriel barked, causing the man still standing to visibly flinch and slowly turn around. "What was that?"

Samandriel knew what it was, and knew that Uriel knew that he knew, and the soldier didn't have anything to say in his own defense. Samandriel crossed the field. "I don't recall ever teaching you to cheat to defeat your opponent."

A muscle in Uriel's jaw jumped. "I was using what I had, sir."

"And how do you think that would go outside of training?"

Uriel was silent and wouldn't meet Samandriel's eyes.

"As I thought." Samandriel looked over to their audience and raised his voice. "I don't know who's been supervising you when I'm not here, but I'm not going to stand for that, understood?" There were nods and a few 'Yes, sirs!' "Alright then. Hester! Raphael! You're next!" He returned to the sidelines.

"Honorable soldiers you have there," a voice said over his shoulder as he watched.

Samandriel jumped and turned to see Lucifer. He scowled. "Thank you. What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed to come down to the training yard?"

"Lucifer, you haven't been to the training yard in months, you're too busy arguing with our father. What do you want?"

Lucifer ignored him, watching Hester and Raphael spar. "I'd have praised him for creative thinking."

"Praised who? Uriel?"

"He knew he couldn't win the traditional way, so he got more creative."

"They aren't supposed to fight like that."

"Right. Dishonorable." Lucifer met his eyes, and a chill went up Samandriel's spine despite the warm day. "That's your problem, little brother. You've been taught that everyone is as honorable as you are. And you believe it."

"What's thatsupposed to mean?"

"You're going to get hurt, Samandriel. War iscoming, no matter what the rest of you think, and you're going to learn the hard way that the rest of the world isn't as honorable as your soldiers and training sessions and jousting matches."

Lucifer walked away before Samandriel could respond.

He stood there, feeling cold and with his insides twisting up into knots, until someone called his name, asking who was sparring next. He shook his head, rubbed his hands together, unsheathed his sword, and tried to wipe away the memory of the brief conversation with sweat and the adrenaline of training.

Castiel sat in the castle's library, reading the same page of a dusty book over and over again without registering the words. Things had been quiet in the castle today, as far as he knew, and despite that being what he had been hoping for, he found himself terrified of what it meant. He had seen no sign of Michael, Lucifer, or his father all day, and positive explanations were eluding him.

He'd gone to visit Dean, hoping the blacksmith would help him take his mind off things, but Dean had smiled apologetically and said he was swamped with work today. Castiel had nodded understandingly and left him to it. And now he was sitting in the library, uncomfortably aware of the fact that Dean's younger brother was working at a desk not far away, translating some missive that had to be sent somewhere that didn't speak the same language as Edengar and its surrounding countries.

'Why couldn't Lucifer want to have a war withthem?' Castiel thought bitterly. 'Why does he have to put all of us in a position of choosing between him and peace?' Because no matter how much Castiel loved his brother, no matter how much King Charles loved his son, Castiel knew they would have to choose peace. They couldn't plunge Edengar into war because Lucifer was having a tantrum and they didn't want to offend him.

He shook his head. That line of thought wasn't helping his mood any.

"That looks like a riveting read," a dry voice said above his head.

"Hello, Balthazar," Castiel said, looking up. "I'm surprised to see you here. I didn't think you knew we had a library."

Balthazar shrugged, looking at his surroundings with the air of a man who had never seen them before. "There isn't much to do around here, you know. Telling me not to go to taverns and the like has cut down significantly on the number of things I can do to entertain myself."

Castiel sighed. "I know what you mean. I don't even leave the castle very often and I think this is too much."

Balthazar dragged a chair over so he could sit across from Castiel, then looked around. He lowered his voice so Castiel had to lean forward to hear him properly. "It may all be over by the end of the day."

"What? How do you know that?"

"I told you, I've been bored. I was eavesdropping on Naomi and Michael."

"What'd they say?"

"Mostly just a bunch of political stuff that nearly put me to sleep. But then he asked her if she'd talked to father about Lucifer and she said yes, that she thought she was finally getting through to him. And then Michael said that he was too, and that they should go talk to him together, so he doesn't get cold feet about it."

Castiel's mouth had dropped open. "Michael wants Lucifer banished?"

"Probably considers it his duty. You know how he is. And, honestly, as much as I don't like it I think he's right. You do too, it's why you're so miserable."

"But he-"

"Castiel. This can't go on. You know that as well as I do. And it's not going to, not much longer." He stood up. "Come on," he ordered, voice back at its usual volume. "Time for dinner. When was the last time you ate?"

"I eat," Castiel retorted, standing up himself. "Just not with all of you breathing down my neck. I don't like listening to arguments over dinner."

"Well, we may be argument-less this evening. I think Michael, Lucifer, and father are off having a private talk."

"That doesn't make me feel much better."

Balthazar slung an arm over Castiel's shoulders as they walked. "I know, little brother."

They walked to the dining room together, Balthazar being quieter than Castiel had been aware he was capable of being.

Just as Balthazar had predicted the rest of the royal family was already there, except for Michael, Lucifer, and King Charles. Samandriel looked worn out and grimy.

"Did you go out and train today?" Castiel asked him as he sat down and one of the servants made him and Balthazar plates full of roasted boar, some bread, cheese, and a bowl of soup.

Samandriel nodded. "I've had enough of the castle. I don't care if things are restless, I'm not going to make them worse by training with my soldiers."

"They get slow in your absence, baby brother?" Gabriel asked, attempting to sneak Anael's bread off her plate even though he hadn't finished his own yet. She smacked him on the wrist hard enough to make him yelp and jump away.

Samandriel rolled his eyes at them. "They got sloppy. Zachariah doesn't pay nearly close enough attention while they're sparring. I was kicking their asses all over the field. I was embarrassed for them."

"You'll get them back in shape, I'm sure," Anael told him, eying Gabriel warily. Castiel could see Balthazar wondering if he could snatch something from the other direction while she was distracted.

Samandriel nodded. "Of course."

Dinner went on in the most normal way it had since Lucifer first suggested a war. Balthazar did decide to brave stealing Anael's food - Castiel would never understand why he and Gabriel tried, she always won out and it wasn't like they couldn't ask for more - and got a bowl of steaming hot stew to his lap for his troubles.

They were being served dessert and conversation was winding down when the dining room doors opened and the king entered the room.

He looked at them, sadness etched into the lines of his face, looking at least a decade older than he was. That was new, Castiel thought. He'd always aged fairly well, before.

"I need you all in the throne room at once," he said. "I have an announcement to make."

Castiel's stomach turned and he wished he hadn't eaten dinner after all. He looked around to his siblings, who all looked somewhat defeated. They knew what was coming as well as he did. They couldn't avoid it any longer.

There was absolutely nothing Samandriel enjoyed about official events. Things for the army weren't so bad, he was in his armor for that, with all the other soldiers around him, and they generally didn't last nearly as long.

Family events were terrible. He didn't like his formal outfit, or the cape that went along with it. He didn't like being watched, with only his siblings to divert the attention off of him. And he especially didn't like his crown, which was heavy and pushed his hair down into his eyes and made his neck ache.

Of course, Samandriel would have been miserable right now no matter how he felt about formal attire.

The important people who had been nearby were all there - Commander Zachariah, Royal Advisor Naomi, the Purgavain ambassador, Kali, along with a few others. And Lucifer was standing in the middle of the room, in front of their father's throne, stripped of his crown, his cloak, his robes. It was strange to see him without the family crest printed on his chest.

Lucifer was holding his head high though. He looked every inch a prince, or even a king, standing there with his back and shoulders straight, his head up, no fear in his eyes. He was the only Novak in the room that didn't look distraught, aside from, perhaps, Michael. Samandriel couldn't tell if his oldest brother was truly not disturbed or simply better than the rest of them at hiding his emotions.

"This is your last chance, Prince Lucifer," King Charles was saying, and Samandriel wondered if it was his imagination making his father's voice shake. "Do you or do you not take back your insistence that we begin a war with our neighboring countries?"

Lucifer didn't so much as bat an eye. "I do not, your Majesty."

Samandriel had known he would say it, known that Lucifer would have backed down long before this if that had ever been an option in his mind, but he swallowed hard and looked down anyway. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Castiel do the same.

He forced his features to be as expressionless as he could manage again and looked back up, taking a deep breath to settle his nerves.

King Charles shook his head slightly and Samandriel could imagine his thoughts because they echoed his own: Lucifer, why couldn't you just let it go?

The king finished the ceremony and Samandriel tried to block out the words, not wanting to be replaying the scene again tonight when he tried to sleep.

And then it was over, Lucifer no longer welcome within Edengar's borders. If he was seen in the country outside of two weeks from now he would be charged as a traitor to the crown and executed.

Lucifer said nothing to the king, but turned his head to look at his brothers. "And not one of you will so much as come to my defense?"

We came to your defense, Samandriel wanted to say, but it's too late now. Now it's all over. But Lucifer wasn't truly looking for a reply and Samandriel's throat was too tight for him to give one anyway.

"Not even you, Michael?" There was silence. Michael didn't turn his head or blink an eye. "Well. I suppose I won't be greatly missed then."

Lucifer turned on his heel, head still high, and strode out of the room.

By morning, all traces of him were gone.