Castiel woke early the next morning, despite his late night. He couldn't get thoughts of Dean out of his head. He couldn't help the prickling feeling of worry that Dean wouldn't come back to see him after what was said the night before. He decided he would start his chores early to give his mind something else to focus on.

He had just finished getting dressed when there was a quick knock on his door.

Castiel stood still for a moment. He hardly ever got visitors, especially at this hour. He was even more surprised when he opened the door to find the King's Huntsman on the other side. The tall man towered over Castiel, but looked at him apologetically.

Spotting his day clothes, the Huntsman smiled. "Good," he said, "You're awake."

"Yes, I am," Castiel said bluntly.

The Huntsman's smile faltered, but stayed in place. His grin reminded Castiel of someone, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them before Castiel spoke again, "What do you need, Huntsman? Has the King called for me?"

The man shifted his weight, obviously ill at ease. It set Castiel's teeth on edge. Just because he was the King's disgraced stepson didn't mean anything was wrong with him. Why was this man acting so off in his presence?

"Call me Sam," he said finally. "And the King asked me to accompany outside the walls. He thought you looked a bit down as of late and decided to have someone take you out to the fields."

Castiel looked at the Huntsman with scrutiny. He highly doubted his stepfather had taken any notice of him lately. And if he had, his reaction would not be to send him out of the gates, but to lock him up in the cellar. But Castiel was not going to give up an opportunity such as this. He hadn't been out of the castle walls in a very long time. Castiel was suddenly very aware that it was springtime. The fields would be nothing but wildflowers. His heart soared at the thought. He could find some new seeds for the castle garden. And maybe…maybe he would get some flowers for Dean too.

If Dean came back.

Instantly, Castiel extinguished the thought.

Castiel looked to the Huntsman – Sam – and nodded, "Alright. I am ready then."

He moved to walk out of his chamber, but Sam stepped in his path, a hand held up to stop him.

"You'll want to change," Sam said. "We're going through the town. The King requests you to dress appropriately. And maybe a cloak? It's cold outside."

Castiel eyed him in confusion, but did as he was told.

He emerged a few minutes later in his best set of clothes. He didn't have very many considering his stepfather kept him working in the gardens, but these would do. He pulled uncomfortably at the puffy blue sleeves. The collar was cumbersome at best. This wouldn't have been his first choice, but he had been told if he were to be seen in public, he'd have to be up to the latest customs. And so the seamstress had concocted this and it had sat in his wardrobe for over a year.

Castiel frowned; Dean had never worn puffy sleeves. And neither did Sam, for that matter, and he was employed by the castle! He sighed; it wasn't like he had anything else. He had even added a red cape by the Huntsman's request. It ended probably a little shorter than it should have, but it would do.

Sam eyed his colorful attire for a split second, his hazel eyes lingering longest on the light yellow trousers. But smartly, (which was probably why he was the King's right hand man) he said nothing. The pair of them headed toward the outer gates, Castiel's heart beating faster and faster with each step.

It was not cold. In fact, Castiel was rather hot in the clothes he had chosen. The cape hung heavily around his neck, but he was having a hard time feeling upset. The fields were beautiful. He had been unable to speak for a moment when they'd finally reached them. Sam had led him to the edge of the far forest, where the flowers grew the tallest. As soon as Castiel was off his horse, he was stepping into the colorful array of blossoms.

Sam stood by the horses, watching Castiel from a distance. Castiel had never liked being accompanied, but with his stepfather's strict rules, there was no way he would be allowed out of sight. If he was to be saddled with anyone, he was glad it was the Huntsman. Though the two had barely talked previously, Castiel found his company to be rather pleasant. The two had made idle chitchat on the way out of town, but soon they settled into a comfortable silence.

As he stepped along the line of the creek, he couldn't help but hum with happiness. He caught sight of a fat bee lazily flying ahead and he slowly began to follow it along the water's edge. Before he realized it, he had started singing the same tune he and Dean had sang together. He stopped for a time, forgetting all about the bee. He knelt down, seeing some gorgeous speckled flowers at his feet. They reminded Castiel distinctively of the other prince's freckles. These were perfect. He pulled them into a small bouquet, the wind brushing back his hair and cape.

He paused his singing when he suddenly heard a bird calling in distress. Castiel set the gathering of flowers down; it could wait. He glanced back at Sam, who was still well within sight, and went in search for the bird.

It wasn't hard. The poor thing was crying with heartache. Castiel found the young chick on a rock all alone, helplessly flapping its wings.

Castiel approached slowly, cooing at the blue bird. It cast a terrified eye on him when he extended his hands, but after some coaxing, it slowly hopped on.

"Hello there," Castiel said, softly. "What's the matter? Where are your parents?"

The bird chirped forlornly, hopping to and fro across Castiel's palms.

"Why, I believe you're lost." Unfortunately, Castiel knew very well what it was like to miss your parents. He had never met his father, killed in battle. But his mother…his mother he missed every day. "Please don't cry," Castiel said when the chick continued his desperate tweets.

But while Castiel was cheering up the small bird, the Huntsman was drawing closer.

"Come on. Perk up," Castiel said, standing to his feet. "Your mother and father can't be too far."

The bird chirped some more and as Castiel lifted it into the air he heard another answer its call.
"There they are!" Castiel cried, lifting the chick as high as he could and pointing into the tree above. "Can you fly?"

The bird hopped around on his hand for another moment and then took off into the trees.

"Goodbye," Castiel called after it, "Goodbye!"

Castiel moved to turn around and finish his bouquet when a dark shadow fell across him. He looked up in confusion, for it was far too early for dusk. But as he lifted his gaze he cried out in shock. The Huntsman stood before him, knife drawn and up, ready for blood. There was an anger in the man's eyes. Something Castiel would never have guessed could replace the softness that had been there before. He stepped back, the heel of his boot catching on a rock. Castiel stumbled to the ground, the Huntsman coming nearer and nearer each second. He tried to crawl away, scraping his palm for his effort, but his back hit a rock and he was trapped.

There was no way out. He was stuck. He was going to die out here. For a fraction of time Castiel thought that he couldn't have asked for better. To be killed in the place he loved the most, surrounded by the flowers, free from the reach of the King. But instinct took over and as Sam drew ever closer Castiel threw his hands over his face in a last-ditch effort to protect himself.

Castiel cringed, waiting for the pain, but it didn't come.

Then he heard a soft voice. "I can't," it said, "I can't do it."

Castiel heard something drop lightly to the ground. He slowly opened his eyes.

Sam had dropped his knife and had fallen to his knees. The Huntsman bent over in a bow, his palms in the dirt. "Forgive me!" he said in grief, "I beg of you, Your Highness. Forgive me."

Castiel stood slowly, his mind reeling. "I don't understand," he managed.

Sam looked up quickly, "He's mad! Jealous of you!" he said. "He'll stop at nothing!"

"But—but who?" Castiel said, too distraught to even think straight.

"The King!" the Huntsman exclaimed.

Castiel echoed the words back to him, frozen in confusion.

"Now, quick! Run!"

Castiel blinked.

"Run away! Hide!"

Castiel could only stutter, too many questions stuck on his tongue to get anything out. He stepped back, the Huntsman pushing him towards the trees.

"In the woods!" he yelled, "Anywhere! Never come back!"

Castiel leapt back in a panic and stumbled into the underbrush.

The beautiful flowers Castiel had picked out for Dean lay crushed at Sam's feet.