As a child, Dean was fascinated with the woods; pushing through the massive branches of the trees and jumping over the teaming brooks. He would climb high into the trees to look out over the forest below him, making himself feel like a giant in his kingdom of green. Always in search of something he would imagine up adventures from ruling his kingdom to housing mystical creatures that had journeyed from afar to see him, and one day his imagination turned very real.

In the particular part of the forest where Dean was, there were mushrooms that littered the ground. Some sat in faerie rings while others were scattered all around, bending and swaying as Dean stepped around them. Finding a faerie ring large enough to surround his body he plopped himself down right in the middle of it. He let the soft earth sink underneath him. His fingers touched over the skin on the top of the mushrooms before he called out, "I, King Dean of the Green Kingdom, am here to offer you a place to stay in your time of need." His voice echoed through the trees, running rampant with the wind until a silence fell. Now, the silence was something Dean was used to but this silence was different. The silence was deafening; something inside of that silence screamed, but was only there to those who were truly listening.

Slowly, Dean stood. His muck-covered feet sunk into the damp earth as he began to venture forward, pausing now and then only to listen. He rounded moss covered trees and stepped lightly over knotted roots that stretched beneath his feet like old fingers. His golden-flecked eyes searched, watched, and he waited for the reverberating noise maker to show itself. As he moved further and further away from his hollow in the woods, the sound grew louder, biting and gnawing at his ear drums. As he brought his hands up to cover his ears, he saw what he'd been looking for. Hovering above a protruding rotting root, was a small creature. Its skin was blue like the ocean and its gold-flecked wings beat slowly.

For a few moments, Dean crouched low to watch the creature. He rubbed at his eyes, not wanting to believe what they laid before him, but his imagination hadn't run wild, this creature was very real. He crept closer and closer, keeping his steps through the leaves and moss quiet. As he neared the creature, he suddenly wondered what he was to do to get the small thing's attention without frightening it. His thought was paused by silence. The golden wings stopped fluttering and its stillness radiated through the trees.

"Hello King Dean," a voice of song and gravel hummed.

Deans fumbled for words but fell completely and utterly short. With nothing to say, he gradually rounded the knotted root, keeping his eyes fixated on the small blue creature. There was a laugh—or was it a giggle?—that escaped from the blue orifice. It had to be laughing at him—at how absolutely foolish he must look, creeping through brush with a dumbfounded look of awe on his face. Dean kneeled to look more closely at this thing he'd found, or rather, that had found him.

He was quite beautiful. His skin was spotted with dark blue freckles and his large blue eyes were light and cheerful enough to act as beacons through darkness. He had a mess of brown hair that was laced with small flowers and leaves. And his golden wings sparkled more radiantly than the stars in the sky. He was naked, save for a leaf that covered him where he needed.

"What are you?" Dean wondered aloud.

The creature climbed his way to the top of the root and stood triumphantly with his hands on his hips. "I'm a faerie, of course," he retorted in a don't-you-know tone. "And my name is Castiel." At this Dean squinted and let his finger gently poke at Castiels stomach which sent an eruption of laughter from the faerie's tiny lungs.

Like the whistle of a small breeze, he heard his name being called. "Dean, time for dinner honey." And just as quickly as it had began, it seemed as though this wondrous moment was ending. Of course his mother would call for him at the wrong time but he was determined to take the faerie with him, "Will you come with me?" he whispered holding out his hand.

Castiel looked at it quizzically for a moment, his ocean eyes darting from Deans hand to Deans eyes, and then to the tree he was grounded to. He paused for a moment, but slowly, one naked foot lifted and stepped onto the rough skin of Dean's hand and then the other followed.
"Take me to your kingdom King Dean," the small faeire said. And Dean did, running all the way home with Castiel safe in his hand.