The trip was long and tedious. Cas wasn't released from Michael's command of silence until supper when the server at the inn they stopped at demanded that he speak up if he expected to eat.
Over the course of the ride, Castiel learned a great deal about his future family. Michael was two years older than him, making him a year older than Dean. Lucifer was five years Michael's junior - the same age as Prince Sam. For most of their lives Dame Lilith had molded and prepared her sons with the notion that they might one day stand next to the royal family, preferably through marriage. On more than one occasion, Castiel waffled between repressing his laughter and pushing down his nausea at some of Michael and Lucifer's more radical notions. It almost sounded as if the brothers thought the angels had prophesied that Dean and Sam would belong to them.
That was the biggest point that bothered Castiel. The brothers truly thought of the princes as belonging to them like they were mere possessions. They cared nothing at all about the princes as human beings; to Michael and Lucifer, Sam and Dean were little more than their titles. It became clear very quickly that Michael saw not only the servants, but everyone, including the princes, as beneath him.
Lucifer was somewhat harder to figure out, hiding behind a small, devilish grin. He constantly tried to pick fights with Michael. Castiel suspected much of what Lucifer said was not necessarily what he thought or believed, but rather designed to irritate his brother. It wasn't long before Castiel could feel the beginnings of a horrific migraine forming behind his left eye.
He was exceedingly grateful when he finally retired for the night. Fortunately, they had three separate rooms. Though the expense was impractical, Castiel wasn't sure all three of them would survive the night if they shared sleeping quarters.
Alone at last, Castiel opened his trunk and pulled Benny out.
"It's ok, no one else is around," Castiel said to the blank plate on the cover. Almost immediately, Benny's face appeared.
"Thanks, kiddo. It was rather stuffy in that trunk. Can't say the view was too great either."
Castiel grimaced. "Sorry, Benny. I don't think it's a good idea to have you in Michael's line of vision. Even if you just appeared as a book, if he thinks you might be useful to him, he'll demand I hand you over. And Lucifer might want you just because Michael wants you."
Benny sighed. "Oh well, guess it can't really be helped. I think Anna might have sent you a message. I felt something come through. Might be a couple other interesting tidbits in there too. Never know what will show up in these pages." Benny winked from his cover, "I have hidden depths."
Castiel rolled his eyes as he opened to the center of the book. He wondered how many horrid book related jokes Anna and Benny had come up with over the years.
He flipped through several pages of maps illustrated with gorgeous, gilt wrought images of fantastical beasts in unknown lands, stories Castiel remembered from his childhood, and even a recipe for Castiel's favorite corn bread before finding the letter in Anna's distinctive tight, feminine handwriting.
Dear Castiel,
The house is lonely here without you. Just a building, hardly a home. There is no one for me to remind to eat their vegetables or to keep me company as I knead the bread. I remind myself that you will be back soon - six months will seem like six days at the end of it - and this house will be a home again.
You had a visitor shortly after you left. Around noon, who should arrive at the door but the Crown Prince himself! He asked where you were and if anything was wrong since you weren't able to practice at the castle this morning as you had planned. When I said your father had sent you to Purgatory for training, Dean seemed angry. He said the moves he witnessed during your fight yesterday already exceeded the skill of most of the Purgatory instructors. He wanted to know when you would return and I made sure to inform him of your father's impending nuptials.
He left a present for you, asking me to keep it safe. It is a small sword. Longer than a dagger, with a rounded hilt. I have taken a close look at the blade and can only conclude your prince is very fond of you, for it's not an ordinary weapon. This is an angel blade - one of those small objects created by angels and imbued with their strength. The prince said your style yesterday seemed more inclined towards a weapon than fists. By this I conclude several things. First, Prince Dean is observant, having seen so much about you so quickly. Second, he is smart, for he seems to have seen your worth almost instantly, where your father has clearly missed it for years.
I will keep the sword safe for you. It awaits your return, as do I.
Love,
Anna
Castiel smiled at the letter, particularly at the news that Dean had missed him. He had wondered occasionally throughout the day if Dean would even remember his offer for Castiel to train at the palace. Not only had he remembered, but he'd noticed Castiel's absence and sought him out. Had Dean intended to give Castiel the sword during the training that morning? It was very likely. He looked forward to seeing it and testing its weight and balance when he returned. Despite Anna's assurances the time would pass quickly, Castiel felt as though six months was an eternity.
The next day proved just as trying in the carriage with Michael and Lucifer. Castiel had learned his lesson the previous day and worked hard to not provoke either brother into giving him an order.
He succeeded - until they stopped for the night. Unlike at the last inn, there weren't enough rooms for them to sleep separately. The room they did get only had two beds and a straw mattress provided by the owner.
"Castiel, you will sleep on that," Michael said, indicating the bedding on the floor. Castiel grimaced. He hadn't really expected a different outcome, but the order did not improve his outlook for the evening. Once they had ensured their luggage was properly secured in the room, Michael, Lucifer and Castiel went down to the large common area below their accommodations to find dinner. Castiel trailed behind, trying not to draw attention to himself. He had already been given one order and Michael was clearly in a demanding mood. Castiel wasn't sure if it was in response to being trapped in a carriage for two days straight or if it had more to do with Michael's general personality. He suspected the later.
To Castiel's dismay, when they reached the dining room and found a free table, Michael gave him another order. The table was small and rectangular. Because of it's positioning, one chair was uncomfortably close to the fire while the other two seats were at a distance that would provide the diner with warmth and ambiance without threatening to scorch their skin.
Castiel moved towards the chair furthest from the fire. Michael saw Castiel's intent and immediately shook his head. "No, Castiel, you will sit here," said Michael, pointing to the chair closest to the radiating heat. Castiel had already lowered himself halfway into his chosen seat when Michael finished the order. He bit back a sigh, but didn't bother arguing as he stood back up and moved around to new seat.
Michael's face briefly registered surprise at Castiel's lack of resistance. There wasn't much point. Castiel was already sore from his cramped position in the carriage. If he wasted moments trying to fight the curse, he would wind up with a lingering tension in his shoulders from the curse complaints.
The evening only deteriorated from there. Michael was convinced his drink was too warm and demanded Castiel switch with him. He ordered for all three when the waiter came around - steak for himself, pot roast for Lucifer and chicken for Castiel. Castiel glanced over at Lucifer, hoping he would make some kind of demand that they be allowed to order their own food, but Lucifer wore a look that said he was clearly too bored to be bothered.
As they were standing to leave, Michael bumped into the table in a move that looked suspiciously deliberate. The action caused one of the mugs to fall to the earthen floor. "Pick that up, Castiel."
There had been so many orders that evening that Castiel was weary and bent down on instinct, without hesitation. When he stood up, he thought he saw a smirk on Michael's face. A feeling of unease bloomed bright in his stomach and moved with him as they made their way back to their room.
"Castiel, shut the door," Michael said as soon as all three of them were inside.
Castiel suppressed a groan. Damn. Michael had figured it out. No one had ever figured out the curse before. Castiel felt dread seep through his veins as he watched Michael warily. What would his almost-brother choose to make him do? What choice would he take away from Castiel?
"Our new brother here has a secret, Lucifer."
Lucifer perked up. The smugness in Michael's voice was clear and it perked Lucifer up. Likely, Castiel thought, because he saw it as a gateway to cause extreme annoyance. "Oh yeah? What's that, Michael?"
"Unless I'm very much mistaken," his tone indicating he knew he wasn't, "Little Castiella here has to do everything we tell him to."
"Reeaally?" Lucifer drew out the word as a look of fiendish delight stole over his face. "Will you hop up and down?"
Castiel stayed put. He didn't open his mouth; he would give them no indication they were getting under his skin or riling him in any way.
"So it doesn't work when something's posed as a question, I see," Michael mused. "That's good to know." He shot a smile over to Lucifer before issuing the command. "Jump up and down, Castiel."
Castiel gritted his teeth, but did as he was bidden.
Michael's grin widened. "Oh yes. Training will be very interesting indeed. You, Castiel, will serve as my squire. Any chores that need to be done, you will complete them for me. Any equipment that requires cleaning, you will clean for me. And you will do a complete and proper job and tell no one that you are the one doing them. Do you understand?"
Castiel glared at Michel, but didn't respond.
"You will answer my question."
"I understand," Castiel ground out, already trying to decide ways to get around the orders. If he could find loopholes, he would use that to his advantage. Lucifer wasn't the only one that could make a pest of himself.
Castiel was tested the very next morning.
The three of them had woken early to ready their trunks and head down to breakfast.
"Castiel, you won't be coming down with us. I don't feel like your company this morning. Instead, Lucifer and I will go eat and you will pack our trunks for us."
Castiel glared as he nodded. He wondered if Anna had packed any snacks in his trunk or if he would be forced to skip breakfast entirely.
As soon as the door closed, Castiel stepped over to it and turned the lock. Moving over to his trunk, he opened the lid and dug down under the top layer to pull Benny out. When his face appeared in the book, Benny's lips were tight and turned down a the edges.
"I take it you heard that then?" Castiel asked resignedly.
"I sure did," Benny said, anger clearly lining his voice.
"Not much I can do about it though," Castiel said, shrugging. "I don't have to do exactly what Michael expects though. Just what he says." Castiel flashed Benny a grin. "For example, he told me to pack their trunks. He didn't specify whose belongings went into whose trunk."
Benny let out a bark of laughter. "I like you, kiddo. You're not bad. 'Course, Anna's been telling me that for years. Just glad to finally get to see it in action."
Both Castiel and Benny saddened a little at the thought of Anna. In some small way, it was a comfort to know they both missed her. Misery loves company, Castiel reflected before giving himself a mental shake. He wanted to have a chance to write Anna back before Michael and Lucifer returned. He also hoped to have time to look through Benny's pages to see what might show up. He was especially sure he couldn't have Benny out around Michael now that Michael had discovered his secret.
He looked around the room. They had only stayed one night, but there was still plenty that had been spread around the room. He left his own trunk for last and concentrated on Michael and Lucifer. The way they spread out reflected their personalities. Michael's possessions had moved further from his allotted space than any of the others. Castiel reasoned Michael probably considered the whole room his anyway. It was only his generosity that obliged him to spare part of the room to Castiel and Lucifer. Despite this, his belongings had remained in relative order; his clothing was neatly folded and his books stacked together. Lucifer, on the other hand, kept his possessions jealously guarded as though he feared someone would take them. Most of his belongings were piled haphazardly on the bed and Castiel wondered how he had even managed to get beneath the covers to sleep under the mess. He made quick work of the task, folding everything properly and storing it neatly inside each trunk as Michael demanded. He just didn't bother to differentiate what went into each trunk. Really, his method made the task go much faster and Castiel was done in under ten minutes.
Rather than take the time to go downstairs and seek breakfast - and risk running into Michael - Castiel dug into his trunk. Benny, who had kept up a steady stream of conversation while Castiel worked spoke up again. "If you look to the bottom right, I think you'll find what you're looking for." Castiel shifted his search and came up with a small loaf of Anna's bread wrapped in a small towel.
Castiel smiled, "Thanks, Benny."
He sat the bread aside as he looked for a pen. Fortunately, the room did have a small table with a single chair, so he moved Benny and the bread to the table with him. He tore off a small chunk of the loaf as he sat down and opened the book, resisting the urge to apologize for basically pressing Benny's face into the table. Benny had already assured him it didn't hurt him, nor did it bother him.
"You can't get into a book if you don't open the cover, kiddo."
Castiel thought for a moment before he put pen to paper. He wasn't sure if he should tell Anna that Michael and Lucifer knew his secret or not. In the end, he decided not to tell her in a letter. There was nothing she could do to help, and it would only cause her to worry. For now, he would keep it to himself. This decision made the letter shorter than he would have liked, and he soon finished it and signed his name.
Idly, Castiel began to flip through the pages of the book, occasionally stopping to examine one thing or another more closely. What he wasn't expecting was to come across another letter, particularly since this one was not addressed to him. He glanced at the bottom of the page and realized it was a letter from Dean to his brother, Prince Sam. Castiel hesitated. Reading a private letter seemed like an intrusion. But Anna had told him the book would show him things that would help him. Perhaps he was supposed to read it? Besides, he rather liked the idea of being able to watch over Dean in a way, even if he couldn't be there himself.
Sam,
The hunt is going pretty well. This is only my second rotation out with the patrols, and I am still too young to officially be a member of the ranks, but the other Hunters are starting to see me for what I can do rather than who our father is. I'll be honest, I wasn't too happy when Captain Singer told me I was going to be going out this week. There was someone I really wanted to introduce you to, a new friend I actually met a couple of years ago.
Castiel stopped and re-read the line. Could Dean possibly have been referring to him?
As it happens out I wouldn't have been able to anyway. His father sent him away to a training school, you know, Purgatory. I really hope he doesn't get stuck there. I've half a mind to try and break him out, but I suspect father wouldn't approve.
So I guess it turned out to be alright that I'm here anyway. We haven't run across anything big. There was a minor water wight yesterday, but Garth was able to take care of it fairly easily. I'd love to get practice on something like a skin walker, but the Captain made me promise to hold back and observe the actions for this maneuver. I don't do well just watching when I know I could be helping someone.
I'll be back by the end of the week. Stay out of trouble and try not to argue with Dad too much? I worry about you when I'm not there.
Dean
Castiel re-read the letter several times, letting his eyes linger on the signature at the bottom. Dean might not have mentioned him by name, but he knew Dean was referring to him when he described a new friend to Prince Sam.
He smiled to himself. This was the first time he had made a friend his own age. He
cursed his father more than ever that he had sent Castiel away. He wished he could be with Dean. He wondered if Captain Henrickson would have allowed Castiel to accompany Dean on his current hunt. He worried a little about the Prince being rash and stepping into unnecessary danger because he thought he might be able to save someone. But despite what Castiel wanted, he was under orders.
Now positive Dean did genuinely want him around, Castiel was more resolved than ever to try and explain why he hadn't come to the castle as he had promised. Even though he knew Anna had already explained, Castiel wanted to make sure Dean heard it from him too.
Castiel had just pulled a piece of paper from his trunk when the handle to the door turned. He looked up quickly, only to realize the door was still locked. So did the person on the other side. There was a furious pounding and Michael's voice echoed through the wood, "Open this door immediately, Castiel!"
Castiel sat the paper on the table and quickly tucked Benny back inside his trunk with a hasty, "Sorry!" before moving to the door. The delay already sending pings through his shoulder blades.
He unlatched the door and Michael stormed through, a furious look on his face. Lucifer followed, evidently amused by his brother's anger. Castiel wondered if anything had happened at breakfast or if Michael was just this worked up over a locked door.
Michael's eyes fell on the paper. "What were you doing?"
"Writing a letter home," Castiel replied, knowing if he refused to answer, Michael would just demand it from him.
"Who were you writing to?"
"A friend," Castiel hedged. He had heard Michael wax poetic enough about his desire to own Dean. He didn't want to admit he was communicating - or at least trying to - with the prince Michael so coveted. Something about his body language must have drawn Michael's attention.
"Tell me who you were writing this letter to, Castiel," he said suspiciously.
Cas looked him straight in the eye, trying not to act as though there was anything unusual about writing to the Crown Prince. "I was writing to Dean."
Michael's nostrils flared. Even Lucifer's smile faltered and his eyebrows shot up towards his hairline.
"You have an awful lot of presumption calling the Prince your friend. What makes you think he would want a letter from someone like you? Your mother may have been a noblewoman, but you are low. You have not been taught the ways of the court, and you do not live in the court style. Your house looks like that of a lowly farmer. You will not send letters to Dean. If anyone in this room is to communicate with him, it will be me. Is that understood?"
Castiel stared, willing his hands to unclench as he responded, "Understood."
He glanced away, not trusting himself to look at Michael anymore. He was becoming more and more determined each day to find a way to break this curse.
