Full summary: Dean Windsor is a young prince about to take over his father's throne, in London England, 1837. On the eve of his coronation, Dean meets his guardian angel, Castiel. All is well until Dean's late mother's brother, Aaron, attempts to take over the kingdom. Dean is forced to retreat to America, with Castiel by his side. Castiel helps Dean change his identity; he is now Dean Winchester. Dean manages to survive on his own in a foreign country, but news of his uncle's tyranny on the kingdom brings him to the realization he must return home. But how can he return home? He's done the two greatest dishonors a prince could do to the royal name. He fled from his home, and he fell in love with his guardian angel.
Chapter 1
London, England
May 24th, 1819
A scream ripped through the room. Lightening cracked across the sky as thunder roared causing a rumble under everyone's feet. The queen had gone into labor and was crushing the king's hand as he tried to soothe her. She lay in her bed surrounded by her personal doctors. Her first child was about to be born. The queen screamed in agony from another contraction. Tears streamed down her face. She had known from the beginning that conceiving a child would end her life, but she didn't have the heart to tell her husband. Their family needed an heir. Without a child, the kingdom would be placed in her brother's hands, as her husband had no family left, and she couldn't bear the thought.
Hours passed and the baby still hadn't arrived. The queen had lost all her energy. She couldn't scream, she couldn't cry. All she could do was lay in agony and pray. She had to stay alive and give birth to this child. She sent up a prayer for the baby's arrival, and for her first born to be a male. If she conceived a daughter, she wouldn't have time to tell her husband not to allow their daughter to marry any man on her side of the family. She could never tell the king about her family. If the king felt his wife was threatened by someone, that person's life would end. The queen feared her brother and the rest of her family, but they were blood. She couldn't send them to their death. Now she wondered if she should have.
Another hour went by before the queen was able to have the baby. She found the strength to scream as she pushed. She prayed and prayed. Please a boy. A bouncing baby boy, please. Her vision became blurry. She coughed and blood spilled over her chin. The king quickly wiped away the red liquid and called over yet another doctor. He had no idea his wife was dying. The baby was handed to the queen. She smiled seeing her child. The doctor informed her it was a boy. The queen shed a single tear of joy seeing her son's perfect emerald eyes. She asked her husband to take the baby from her arms. She knew she had moments left.
"What should we name him?" asked the king. He turned to his wife waiting for her answer.
The queen managed to raise the corners of her mouth. "Dean." She took her husband's hand with a great struggle. One last tear leaked from her eye. "I love you," she said. Her arm went limp along with the rest of her body. The king went into a panic. He quickly handed the baby to one doctor and screamed for another.
The king begged and begged for his wife's breath to return to her lungs, but she was gone. He wept.
The king sat on the bed after the mess had been cleaned and his beloved wife had been taken to be prepared for her funeral. He held Dean in his arms. His emotions were conflicting; he felt both joy and resentfulness towards his new born son. Despite his emotions, he knew there was one more task at hand. He cradled Dean in his arms and made his way to the garden.
The air was thick with humidity. Early morning dew rested on all the greenery from the storm. The king kept his eyes forward on his destination. He walked along a marble path that separated him from the dozens of flowers that had bloomed in the spring. His pace slowed as he approached a statue in the center of the garden. A stone angel, with its hand together in prayer, stood tall above the king. The king lowered himself onto one knee and began to pray.
A brilliant blue light began to glow from the hands of the angel. The king looked up from the ground and watched the light. A voice played in his mind.
It is the duty of the angels to guard the royal family. Now that your son has been born, he will be assigned to his guardian angel. This angel will watch over him and protect him. He will not meet his guardian angel until the eve of his coronation.
"I understand," said the king. "His guardian's name, what is it?"
The angel guarding your son is Castiel. He is a trusted warrior. Your son will be safe.
"Thank you, Raphael; you have always guarded me from harm. I trust you have chosen a worthy angel to protect my son."
My condolences go to you on this night. Mary is resting in heaven. You can be at peace.
The blue illumination faded along with Raphael's voice. The king heard the sound of the marble being stepped on and turned around quickly, clutching his son closer to his body. He soon saw the face of his wife's brother, Aaron.
"John," said Aaron slowing his pace to meet face to face with his brother-in-law. "I just heard about Mary." Tears stained Aaron's face, and John's eyes began to leak at the mention of his late wife's name.
"She died giving birth to Dean," said John choking on his words.
Aaron let out a quiet gasp. His attention shifted from John to Dean. "So this is your son, your heir." John nodded his head slowly. "He will become king someday."
"Yes," replied John. "He has been assigned to his guardian angel. So I need not worry."
Aaron forced a small smile. "May I?" he asked gesturing to Dean. John gingerly handed Dean to Aaron. Aaron looked down at the infant."He is beautiful." I'm too late. He already has an angel protecting him. "He will make you proud." Angel or no angel, I will take my rightful place as king.
John smiled at the sight of his son resting peacefully in his uncle's arms. He allowed his shoulders to relax, having no idea that at that very moment, his brother-in-law was storing away ideas. Ideas on how he would kill the king, and his son. All he needed to do was find a way to get rid of the angels.
May 23rd, 1837
It was the eve of his 18th birthday. Dean Windsor awoke to a team of servants preparing him for his day. They were being even more relentless than he was used to. His hair was combed to perfection, his clothes were without a single wrinkle, and his emerald irises somehow shined like never before. After the servants brought him his breakfast, he was left to eat in peace, aside from the women that began to clean his room. Dean bit into a piece of fruit and walked out onto the balcony. The sun was shining bright bringing a wonderful tingle of warmth. Dean hoped the weather would remain this way for his coronation.
After his meal was finished, Dean made his way to the library to meet with his father. They were going to rehearse his coronation for what felt like the millionth time to Dean. He understood perfectly. All he really had to do was stand there while he was granted the throne. Then he needed to dance with a few princesses and choose a wife as soon as possible.
"Dean," said John the moment his son walked into the room. "I'm glad you're here." John walked over and hugged his son. He walked over to a podium he had set up to rehearse.
"Father, we've been over this a thousand times. Stand, smile, greet, dance, choose," said Dean sitting down in a chair and placing his feet on the desk. His father pointed to his feet. Dean rolled his eyes and put his feet back on the ground. "It's going to be fine."
John sighed and sat down by Dean. "Dean, this is very important. Everything has to go precisely as planned. And tonight…tonight is…" John's voice trailed off. Dean looked at his father with concern in his eyes.
"Are you alright, father?" he asked. John nodded his head. He stood up and took a deep breath. This was the part he was always afraid of mentioning. He remembered the amount of shock and confusion it brought to himself when he was Dean's age.
"Tonight, meet me in the garden. It's important," said John. He began to make his way out of the library.
Dean stood up, "Father," he started, "where are you going? I thought we were going to rehearse this again." John stopped walking and turned to face Dean.
"Not today. Have some fun," he smiled and left Dean alone in the library.
Dean was called into the dining room after his day of relaxing had ended. All that was left of his family had come to celebrate. However, there was no one left on his father's side, so only his mother's relatives sat at the table before him. He sat to his father's left where he always did, and greeted everyone.
Small talk was exchanged between all members of the family. During the meal it was mostly quiet, which Dean was thankful for. He wasn't much of a family man, and neither was his father.
"Dean," John broke the silence. "You remember your uncle, Aaron, don't you?" John gestured to the man at the other end of the table. He sat with his shoulders stiff and his jaw tightened. His blonde hair instantly made Dean think of his mother. He had seen her in pictures, and this was definitely her brother. He had the same green eyes.
"Of course," replied Dean. He turned his attention to Aaron and smiled. Aaron's tightened jaw lifted into a tightened smile.
"Dean, I haven't seen you since you were a toddler," he said tightening his smile even more. "My, how you've grown." Dean simply nodded. "Are you looking forward to your coronation?"
Dean's face lifted into a genuine smile. "Yes, I am. It's going to be good to be king, right?" he let out a small chuckle.
The corners of Aaron's mouth twitched. "It sure will be. Though, you must be nervous. You'll have to find a wife and start having babies right away to keep your bloodline going." Dean laughed.
"I don't think having babies will be that difficult, not for me anyway," Dean laughed again completely unaware of a sting in John's chest. Silence fell over the room from Dean's joke. Dean stopped laughing and took a sip of his drink feeling extremely awkward. He had no idea how his mother died, so the reason behind everyone's sullen faces went right over his head.
The sun had set in the horizon and the family had returned to their guest rooms. Dean sat on the balcony staring at the stars. He looked down at the garden underneath to see his father kneeling before the angel statue that rested in the center. His father stood up straight and looked up at Dean. He raised his hand to let Dean know it was time.
Dean joined his father in the garden. "Why did you call me out here?" he asked. John smiled at Dean with tears in his eyes.
"It's time, Dean," he said. Dean's eyes widened from curiosity.
"Time for what?" he asked.
John turned back to the statue and kneeled. "He is ready." Dean watched his father closely. A moment later, a blue light shined from the statue. Dean's eyes widened, he had seen this before. But where had he seen it? The light grew brighter and brighter until Dean and John were forced to close their eyes. The light faded and Dean and John were able to open their eyes. Standing by the statue was a man. He had perfectly combed dark brown hair and bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. He wore the uniform of the guards, but instead of a medal, there was a tiny pair of wings pinned to the uniform.
The man smiled, "Dean."
"Who are you?" asked Dean still in awe. The man stood the same height as him. He had a chiseled jaw and a stern, but somehow also soft gaze.
"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord. I am your guardian angel," said Castiel.
"What? Father?" Dean turned to his father confused.
John nodded his head. "It's true, Dean. Every member of the royal family has a guardian angel. Castiel is yours. He has watched over from the day you were born. You weren't allowed to meet him until the eve of your coronation, which is tonight. He will continue to protect for as long as you live."
Castiel turned to John, "He is shaken by the news, but it will settle with him perfectly fine."
"I'll leave you to get to know your guardian, Dean," said John as he made his way out of the garden. Dean opened his mouth in protest, but his father was already gone. He turned back to Castiel. He didn't know how to react. Never had he seen someone that was so beautiful.
"So, you're an angel," said Dean.
"I'm your angel," corrected Castiel. Dean nodded. "I've been watching over you, Dean. You're scared for tomorrow."
"I'm not scared!" exclaimed Dean. It was then he realized he couldn't hide anything from Castiel. His intensity softened. There was no use fighting it.
Castiel gently cupped Dean's face. "You've grown up so much. You will be fine tomorrow, no matter what." Dean simply stared into Castiel's blue orbs. He absentmindedly licked his lips as he tried to find words. When no words came, he stood completely still. He had no reason to be afraid now. He had an angel watching over him. But there was something about Castiel. There was something about him that was stirring things to life in Dean. Dean didn't know what he should be feeling, so he just continued to stare at his angel as the moon slowly made its way across the sky.
