Dinner is a pleasant enough affair once Gabriel puts up his polite mask, the kind that he usually reserves for dealing with snobby advisors. He ignores the Duke as much as he can, and makes polite conversation with Castiel every so often so as not to gain the suspicion of his guests. Aside from the servants, no one knows that Castiel and Gabriel haven't seen each other in years, and Gabriel is going to keep it that way to prevent any rumours from growing.
Dinner is over roughly two hours after it started, and then everyone retreats back to the great hall for more dancing and socialising. As the more important guests were seated closer to him at dinner and he made sure to make conversation with all of them, he considers his obligations to socialise with people fulfilled, and so feels no guilt in basically hiding out near the back of the hall, already emotionally drained as he is.
It's not long after the band starts their first song that Lucifer finds him.
"Why are you hiding out here by yourself?" the prince asks, leaning against the wall next to him.
Gabriel shrugs. "Don't really feel like socialising with them anymore. I never knew how exhausting it is, dealing with large amounts of people."
"Right, this is your first big social gathering," Lucifer says. "Well, I don't know if this'll make things better or worse, but…"
Gabriel eyes him curiously, intrigued when he sees that the prince looks hesitant.
"What?" he prompts.
"Can I say something crazy?" Lucifer says.
"Of course," Gabriel says. "You do know who you're talking to, right?"
Lucifer gives him a weak smile, which isn't exactly what Gabriel was going for, but he'll still take it.
"Right." Lucifer takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. "Gabriel, I know we haven't known each very long - only a few hours, in fact - but I like you. I like you a lot. And this is definitely very sudden, and isn't proper at all and if my mother ever found out about this, she'd have my head-"
"Lucifer," Gabriel interrupts, hoping beyond hope that Lucifer isn't about to propose.
"Right, sorry. What I'm trying to say is… will you allow me to court you?"
Gabriel lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god."
Lucifer blinks, and Gabriel realizes that he said that out loud.
"I thought you were going to propose," he admits with a nervous chuckle.
"Oh, please. I'm crazy, but I'm not that crazy," Lucifer says.
Gabriel chuckles. "Of course you can court me, if you let me court you in return," he says. Lucifer's whole face lights up with the force of his smile and Gabriel is momentarily mesmerised. But then the prince's gaze slides to something over Gabriel's shoulder, and his smile drops.
Gabriel frowns and turns, then freezes when he sees Castiel standing just a few feet away from them, his upper lip curled up in a faint sneer. Gabriel quickly throws off his surprise and schools his face.
"Can I help you with something?" he asks. Castiel's gaze flicks from Gabriel to Lucifer and back again, and he presses his lips into a flat line of disapproval.
"Can I speak with you?"
"You are," Gabriel replies. Castiel narrows his eyes in anger. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it now."
"Fine," Castiel replies coolly. "Gabriel, what do you think you're doing?"
Gabriel looks back at Lucifer, who appears as if he wants to be literally anywhere else, then back at Castiel, his eyebrows raised in fake surprise.
"I thought I was talking to you, but now I'm not so sure. What am I doing, Cas? Pole dancing?"
"What you're doing is making a mistake. I cannot believe you're considering marriage already, and you haven't even been king for a day."
Gabriel feels anger flare up hot beneath his skin, and he clenches his hands into fists.
"Who the hell said anything about marriage?" he snaps. "You've been listening in, so you should know that we're just going to court for now."
"What do you think courtship ends in?" Castiel says heatedly. "Gabriel, you can't just do these things. All of your actions reflect on other people, as well as yourself. Besides, you have a kingdom to run, you can't be making selfish decisions! How are you supposed to produce an heir if you don't take a wife?"
Gabriel's mouth drops. "Unbelievable," he mutters in shock. Then his eyes narrow as he puffs up with anger and indignation. "I'm a grown man, Castiel, I can make decisions for myself, thanks. And in case you've forgotten, I outrank you, which means I don't have to run every decision I make by you, so you can take your opinion and shove it until I specifically ask for it."
Castiel actually has the gall to throw his hands up in the air in frustration like Gabriel's the one being unreasonable. "It's just like you to make such selfish decisions," he says, obviously not intending for anyone to hear, but Gabriel has pretty good hearing.
"What did you say?" Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realizes that everyone in the great hall has stopped to watch, but he doesn't care, too lost in his anger to worry about the repercussions of fighting with his brother in public. "How the hell would you know if this is 'just like me' or not? The last time I checked, you haven't even come out of your room in three years, and even before that you'd only come out once a day! Don't be so presumptuous as to make statements about me when you don't even know me anymore!"
"I never wanted to do that, you know," Castiel snarls. "It wasn't my choice whether or not to lock myself away."
"Of course it was!" Gabriel exclaims angrily. "You chose to shut me out, but did you ever think that you'd be affecting anyone other than yourself? I can't live like that anymore, Cas!"
Castiel glares at him icily, his blue eyes glittering.
"Then leave," he says cruelly, and Gabriel jerks back like he's been slapped, his eyes wide and full of hurt. He can hear a few people gasp, but the sound is muffled. All he can focus on is Castiel, and the way his eyes very briefly shine with remorse before he turns and starts to walk away.
"Cas, wait!" Gabriel quickly darts forward and grabs Castiel's hand, but the prince jolts back and Gabriel is left with only a glove clenched tight in his fist.
"Give me back my glove!" Castiel demands, his eyes wide. Gabriel ignores him.
"What did I ever do to you?" he demands hotly. Castiel crosses his arms and hunches his shoulders, and the stunned crowd clears a path for him when he turns and begins walking to the door.
"Enough, Gabriel," he practically moans, but Gabriel is too worked up to notice.
"No, why do you shut me out?" Castiel reaches the door, and there's no one left standing between him and Gabriel as the latter follows. "Why do you shut the world out? What are you so afraid of?"
"I said enough!" Castiel shouts angrily, whirling around and throwing his arm out. Bright blue sparks erupt from his hand and where they touch the floor, sharp spikes made of ice shoot up. The crowd gasps and screams as Gabriel jumps back to avoid being skewered alive. The king's eyes are wide as he looks into his brother's terrified ones.
"Cas," Gabriel whispers in horror, watching his brother grow more and more distressed. He can hear the people around him muttering and talking, but he ignores them.
Castiel sucks in a ragged breath and fumbles for the doorknob behind him, and once he pushes open the door he turns and flees. Lucifer comes running up to Gabriel, who turns to him with a determined look on his face.
"Come on," he says, the command more of a request. Lucifer tightens his lips and nods, but the Duke interferes before they can make any move towards the door.
"Your Majesty, I really wouldn't recommend going towards the sorcerer," he says, his eyes glinting in the light. "I've brought along a few of my best trained guards that I would be more than happy to lend you, to help apprehend the prince."
Gabriel narrows his eyes. "I don't plan on apprehending my brother seeing as he's done nothing wrong." He turns and hurries after Castiel without another word, Lucifer falling into step next to him. Castiel leaves a trail of thin ice behind him that's pretty easy to follow, so it doesn't take them long to catch up to him. They find him out in the courtyard in front of the palace, rushing through the crowds, which part for him easily. One of the fountains is frozen and warped into a twisted ice sculpture, and Gabriel moves faster.
Castiel leads them through a passage in the side of the courtyard that leads directly to the fjords, and by the time Gabriel and Lucifer catch him, he's staring down at the water fearfully.
"Castiel, wait!" Gabriel calls. Castiel's head jerks up towards them, then back down to the water, and before Gabriel can take a single step in his direction, he's running across the water, leaving a trail of ice behind him. Gabriel runs up to the edge of the water, but doesn't venture onto the ice; just because it held Castiel, who has ice magic, doesn't mean it'll hold anyone else. And indeed, where Gabriel gets too close to the ice, it starts to melt.
Lucifer comes to a stop next to him and grabs onto his forearm. Gabriel watches in shock as his brother makes it to the mountain on the other side of the fjord, becoming a blurry dot the further away he gets.
"No," Gabriel whispers. Lucifer's grip tightens suddenly.
"The fjord," he says, and Gabriel realizes that the icy trail Castiel left on the water is spreading, freezing the entire fjord solid. The wind picks up suddenly and cold air swirls around them, making them shiver. "What are we going to do?"
Gabriel looks up at the sky, where dark, puffy clouds are beginning to gather, then to the mountains across the fjord. His jaw tightens with determination.
"Now we fix this," he says.
.
Dean curses as yet another clump of snow finds its way into his jacket, despite the many layers he's wearing to prevent such a thing. He doesn't even know why he bothers. It's only been a few hours at most since he's been separated from his brother - his brother who has their sleigh and most of their supplies. All Dean has is enough food to last him a few days, the clothes on his back, and some coin in case he runs into any manner of store, unlikely though that is given that he's wandering around on a mountain range.
Right now, he's trying to make it back to Arendelle before his food runs out. He and Sam had agreed long ago that if they were ever separated, they'd find each other in the closest town, and if Sam is still alive, he'll most likely be heading towards the kingdom, too. Dean stubbornly does not think about Sam not surviving the wolf attack; he has the sleigh and all of their weapons, and is more than capable of fending off a few mangy dogs.
Dean's foot sinks into a deep patch of snow and he shivers when he feels cold wetness soaking into his socks. Quickly pulling his foot out, he looks around him, trying to find - something. All he can see is vast, empty whiteness, most of the snow unbroken except for the trail of footprints that he left behind him. He can't even see a tree.
But he does see another person.
Dean frowns and watches as the man walks along in the snow, seemingly unconcerned with the cold. He does have his arms wrapped around him, but that seems to be more for comfort seeing as he's wearing even less clothing than Dean is, yet isn't shivering. Dean can't make out many details, but he can see that the man has black hair and is dressed in mostly blues and whites. He seems unconcerned with where he's going, not looking up once.
Dean changes direction and starts to head towards the man, hoping to find a potential ally in another lost soul, but stops once he gets close enough to see what the man is doing. He's dressed in fine clothes that look like they have no place on the rough and dangerous North Mountain, but the most noticeable feature is the simple, diamond-studded silver coronet that's resting on his head.
It looks valuable enough to be able to let Dean, Sam, and their reindeer, Colonel, live comfortably for the rest of their lives, and so Dean feels completely justified in gawking when the man takes it off, gives it a look of disgust, and then flings it away like it's trash.
"Keep it hidden," the man says to himself, his voice carrying easily on the wind. "Conceal it, don't feel it. Don't let it show." He gives a bitter laugh. "No need anymore, not when everyone knows."
Dean frowns and wonders what this man had to hide that was so bad that it caused so much pain to enter his voice when he talked about it. His question is answered only a second later when the man pulls off the one glove he wears and lets it fly away in the wind, then flings both his hands out in front of him. Glowing blue sparks erupt from his hands and snow follows not after, causing the snow on the ground to explode into the air in a flurry of fluffy snowflakes. The man cuts his arm through the air and the snow stops drifting and falls suddenly. Dean's eyes widen in shock.
Now smiling, the man turns and waves his finger in a circle, conjuring up a small snowman. He laughs in delight and Dean feels his own lips quirk upwards in response. Now that he's over his initial shock, he has to admit that this is actually incredible, and amazing to watch.
And then, to his shock, the man reaches a cliff and creates a staircase of snow that reaches from the edge of the cliff to about halfway across to the other side. Dean follows a little ways behind as the man cautiously puts one foot onto the first stair; the snow solidifies and turns to ice, and the man grins and starts running up the stairs, hands spread wide on either side of him. When he reaches the end of the staircase, whatever magic is inside him creates another step, and then another, until the staircase is being built at the same speed as the man is running at.
When he reaches the other side of the cliff, the man lets out a loud laugh and falls backwards into the snow, wiggling until he's almost completely buried in it. He seems to get an idea as he sits up suddenly. He looks down at his snow covered clothes, then smiles slyly. Dean, who's crouching on the staircase, feels his cheeks heat up a little. What can he say, he's a sucker for a pretty pair of eyes and a nice smile, and this man has both and then some.
The man begins to strip, and Dean's face turns beet red. He watches until the man gets down to his underclothes, and then he closes his eyes, his face burning. A few moments later, he cautiously cracks open an eye, then gasps quietly. The man is waving his hands in complex little patterns, controlling the ice that's rushing up his body to create clothing. By the time he's finished, he has on a pair of pants and a simple long-sleeved shirt that shows off just a little too much collarbone, both in a light, icy blue. Around his neck, attached by an ovular blue crystal, is a cape so long it drags on the ground behind him; it's translucent, and appears to be made out of tiny ice crystals that reflect the light whenever he moves. Pure white boots stop just below his knees. He musses up his hair until it's fluffy and sticking every which way, and then he fashions a crown out of ice for himself. He frowns at it, then tosses it away and creates a simple coronet instead.
He looks ethereal, with his pale skin and dark hair and blue eyes, dressed in ice and standing against a background of snow, and for a guy who sells ice for a living and has a rather unhealthy love for it, he's the most beautiful thing Dean's ever seen.
And then he starts building the castle, and Dean swears he's in love.
It takes only a few minutes, and by the time it's over, there's a hundred and fifty foot castle made of ice nestled against the side of a mountain, put there by one man. Dean waits until he's sure everything has settled, and then he gets up, straightens his jacket as much as he can, and knocks on the front door.
The door opens almost immediately, and Dean cautiously walks inside. The castle is just as grand and beautiful on the inside as it is on the outside, and Dean spins in a small circle, trying to take in as many details as possible.
"Incredible," he says to himself, reaching out and gently running his gloved hand over one of the walls.
"Do you really think so?" comes a voice from behind him, and Dean spins around. The man who'd built the castle is standing at the top of a gently curved staircase, looking down at Dean distrustfully.
"Um," Dean says intelligently, momentarily thrown by the man's deep, gravelly voice. "I do. This is amazing. I… I saw you build this," he says hesitantly, not sure how the man will react to being spied on. "How can you control ice like that?"
The man hunches his shoulders defensively. "I-I don't really know," he says. "I've always been able to do that. You really aren't scared of me?"
"Are you going to hurt me?" Dean asks.
"No," the man says, looking bewildered.
"Then, no, I'm not scared of you. I'm Dean, by the way. Who are you?"
The man eyes him for a moment, looking thoroughly confused. "Castiel," he says. "My name is Castiel."
"Like the prince?" Dean asks. Then his eyes widen as he comes to a realization. "Wait, are you the prince?" Castiel nods. "Oh, man. Should I bow or something? I don't really know the protocol for addressing royalty."
"I don't think I'll be royalty any longer, not now that everyone knows what I can do."
Dean frowns in confusion. "Did something happen?"
Castiel smiles sadly. "It's kind of a long story. Would you like to come in? I know it's not really warm in here, but at least it's out of the wind."
"I'd love to, thanks," Dean says, starting up the stairs. Castiel waits until he reaches the top, then turns and begins leading him further into the castle. "So is this the reason that no one's seen any of the royals for all those years?"
"Unfortunately," Castiel says. "There was an… accident when I was a child, and my parents thought it would be best to limit my contact with people until I'd learned to control my powers, but that never really happened." He shrugs. "So I just never came out."
"You have a brother, right? And today was his coronation?"
"Yes, Gabriel became king today."
"Does he have powers, too?"
"No," Castiel replies. "At least, not that I know of, but it's unlikely. Besides, he hates the cold and has always preferred heat."
They reach a room that turns out to be a sitting room, complete with armchairs, a table, and a fireplace that seems to be there more for decoration than any practical use. The chairs are padded with snow that holds its shape when Dean sits down, and it's actually a lot more comfortable than he thought it would be.
"So, what made you run away from Arendelle?" Dean asks. Castiel takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, then begins his story.
.
An hour after Castiel left, Gabriel is still sitting in one of his castle's meeting rooms, listening impatiently as his six advisors argue about what to do. He wants to go out and look for his brother, but he'd been forced to sit in at this rather pointless meeting because of his hours old kingship.
"I think the main question here," one of the advisors says loudly, interrupting an argument between two others, "is whether or not the prince should even be found. He is a danger to everyone in Arendelle, as shown by tonight's events."
Gabriel slams his hands down on the table loudly, a murderous expression on his face.
"This is my brother you're talking about," he says, his voice cold as ice. "And if all you're going to do is sit here and argue about whether or not he's dangerous, I'm going to go and do something productive. If you'll all excuse me."
And with that, he gets up and walks out, leaving the flabbergasted group to sit in their chairs and gape. Immediately outside the doors, he finds Lucifer and the Duke of Weselton, along with a few of the other more important foreign dignitaries that had come for the coronation. They all fall into step alongside him as he makes his way to the front doors of the castle.
"Your Majesty," the Duke says, not even pretending that he and the others weren't listening in to Gabriel's meeting. "I think that your advisors are correct. It would be unwise to bring the prince back to Arendelle as long as we are uninformed about his abilities and loyalties."
"And it would be unwise of you to continue to speak," Gabriel replies frostily. They reach the doors and enter the courtyard, where many people are still loitering, hoping to get some answers from the guards posted at the gates and front doors. Most of them are still wearing thin summer clothes, but they'll have to change soon if they don't wish to freeze. It's been snowing for almost half an hour now, and the temperature is dropping with every passing minute. Everyone breaks out into murmurs when Gabriel walks out, but he ignores them and climbs up onto the ledge of the fountain that Castiel had frozen earlier.
The mutterings quiet down when he raises his hand, and thankfully most people don't seem that wary of him. It would honestly suck if his subjects were afraid of him.
"Let it be known that I did not know of Prince Castiel's… abilities," he says. "And yes, tonight was just as shocking for me as it was for you. But rest assured, I will find Prince Castiel and we will put a stop to this winter. Until I return, I'm leaving Prince Lucifer in charge."
He hops down from the fountain and ignores the chatter that instantly breaks out, shivering as he makes his way to where Lucifer is standing. He hates the cold, he really does, but here he is volunteering to go off into the mountains during a freak winter to bring his brother back home.
"Gabriel, you can't go out there by yourself," Lucifer says as soon as Gabriel is close enough to hear him. "It's dangerous."
"Cas is not dangerous," Gabriel says, then pauses. "Okay, he might be a little dangerous, but he'd never hurt me. Besides, someone has to bring him back, and I don't trust anyone else to do it."
"I'll go find him," Lucifer offers. "I'm third in line for the throne of my kingdom, but you're the king here, Gabriel, and you don't have any heirs. What would happen to Arendelle if something happened to you?"
Gabriel pulls off his ring and presses it into Lucifer's hand. "You'd rule instead," he says with a small smile. "I think you'd make a good king. Hopefully it won't come to that, but I think that my kingdom would be in good hands if something did happen to me out there."
Lucifer doesn't reply, but blinks wide eyes at the ring in his hand. Gabriel takes the opportunity to slip away towards the stables. He tells the stable hands to prepare his horse, along with enough supplies to last him a few days, and while they're doing that, he quickly goes up to his room to change into something more appropriate for riding around in the woods.
He ditches his cape and his gold jacket, and pulls on a warmer black jacket with a collar that covers his neck, and fastens a thick white cloak around his shoulders. He also pulls on a pair of white leather gloves that are lined with fur, and switches out his black boots for an almost identical pair with waterproof leather and soft cotton insides. His sword he fastens around his waist, and he grabs a dagger from his dresser, which he slips inside his boot.
Once he's ready, he makes his way back to the stables. His horse, a beautiful black Shire stallion with a thick white blaze, a black mane and tail, and white feathering around his enormous hooves, is already ready, his head low and his hoof pawing at the ground impatiently. The stable hands have put on his light brown leather saddle, the one with a pommel instead of a horn, as well as his darker leather saddlebags, which Gabriel can see are full of the supplies he requested.
The horsemaster's apprentice is holding the horse by the reins, the special ones that Gabriel had specially made for his horse, Admiral. The cheek piece of the reins are attached to the noseband and there isn't a bit, which Gabriel thinks Admiral appreciates. When he catches sight of Gabriel, Admiral jerks his head so hard that the boy loses his grip on the reins. Admiral trots happily up to Gabriel and sticks his nose into the king's chest, nickering quietly. Gabriel laughs and reaches up to stroke the horse's nose.
"Ready to go, Admiral?" he says. "We have a very important task to do."
Admiral tosses his head, which Gabriel takes to mean yes. He puts his foot in the stirrup and pulls himself up into the saddle, taking a moment to fight back the vertigo from suddenly being so high up. After nodding to the stable boy, he grabs the reins and leads Admiral out of the stables, along the path that leads to the main road.
From there, he rides hard along the outside of the fjord. Like this, it'll take him at least a few hours to circle around and make it to the mountains opposite Arendelle, but he doesn't want to risk riding across the ice that covers the fjord.
"Come on, Admiral," he urges his horse. "Let's see how fast you can run."
And with that, horse and rider streak off towards the mountains.