Portrait
Castiel crossed the large hall and opened a bedroom door. "This will be your room,"
"Oh…thanks," Dean said hesitantly, standing in the doorway and peering in to the humongous room. The room was in somewhat of a disarray, deep reds and blacks almost clashing with the limited amount of furniture inside. There was a huge four poster bed in the very middle of the room, although the covers were folded and placed neatly upon the bed, it seemed disordered, as if done in the quickest way possible.
A side table and other dark wood furniture were strewn in a fashionable manor around the room each with intricate angelic carvings. The entire corner wall was taken up by windows that stood up high, opposing the bed and turning the corner to lavishly stop at the very end of the large room, showing the west side of the exquisite gardens and the forestry in the distance.
Castiel turned aside to let Dean come in.
"Breakfast will be at eight sharp, we will dine together," he said, standing at the frame of the door. "Your brother is in the room next door, however he is being taken care of by Gabriel. I bid you to let him do his job,"
Dean nodded, standing uncertainly a few feet into the room. He wanted to ask more questions, wonder what it was that Gabriel was doing to Sam. He had whisked Sam away so quickly after they had finally met, that Dean barely had the chance to ask Sam how he was. He wanted answers. Why was this beautiful beast keeping them here? How badly hurt was Sam? Did he need to go to a hospital? He had been wearing a cast on his leg and his arm, but he had been walking around the house like it didn't pain him. Had the two hosts of the house drugged him?
Dean thought he was owed answers. But the look in those deep starry blue eyes made Dean's thoughts falter and his breath catch in his throat.
"I will explain everything at breakfast. There are clothes in the cupboards for you, please rest for now." Castiel said, his voice low and his eyes shining bright with childlike mirth. The door closed with a sound thud behind Dean as Castiel left him to his own devices.
What had he gotten himself in to?
Taking slow, paced steps, he dragged his tired feet to the bed and sat on the corner. An astonished smile rose to his lips as he took another long gaze into the room.
He was finally here.
There was a doorway at the opposing wall that led to a balcony that over took the corner of the room, overlooking the beauty of the gardens. He took a hold of the cool polished handle and winced at the creak it made as he opened the door. A cold breeze brushed passed him as the setting storm brew, lightening streaked across the dark skies and rain fell harder now. A white ivory table and chairs were set to one side of the balcony, while long winding plants took over the other side leading up and weaving around the corner to the rest of the balcony. Thick concrete pillars ran along the balcony edge, slabs of concrete above for him to lean on.
Dean peered into the distance and saw a waist high hedge maze leading to an architecturally artistic building a few meters away. It looked like a Romanic construction, white pillars stood tall, protecting and preserving whatever was inside. How he wanted to go out there and see what that beautiful building held. But the storm wouldn't allow him to explore passed the building itself.
Returning to the room, he took in a deep breath and explored the rest of his new abode. There was a large dressing table before him on the wall of the entrance door, a large painting hung high on the wall, covered by a sheet.
Dean took a seat on the pouf chair and leaned against its wooden back. He sighed. The mirror image staring back showed his dark blonde hair in stylish disarray, his candy green eyes, the darkness of his eyes from countless restless nights made them stand out all the more, his pale red lips curved down into a sigh.
Beauty of the town, eh?
His attention instead turned to the portrait hanging on the wall above him. Looking up at the dusty covers and tried to peer in through the gaps. While walking down the hallways to his room, he noticed that all the other paintings and portraits of former residents and places were displayed, some even with their own candelabra styled lights below.
Why was this one hidden?
He smirked and stood up on the chair, taking a hold of the cream coloured sheet. It was a portrait, but it was painted in dark colours. He could see what looked like a hand held into a waistcoat or blazer, but the sheet seemed to fix against the frame of the painting.
Curious to see who was in the painting, he took one corner of the sheet and yanked at it. Dust fell from the sheet after being moved from what seemed like years, making him wrinkle his nose and bite back a bout of coughs, but yet he still pulled at the cream material. A faint rip near the top of the material caused Dean to stumble back, legs tangling in the pouf chair and falling to the ground.
He moaned low in his throat, and then slowly blinked his eyes open. Looking up at the portrait, he gasped. The material had ripped, showing a set of eyes. Dean stared at the sight of those eyes. They were so blue they looked like a swirling stormy sea, and they focused on Dean. Those dark, captivating eyes searched his suspiciously.
Get real Dean, it's a painting.
But looking up at the painting, into those beautiful blue eyes made him feel hot and tingly. Breathless. He wanted to rip the rest of the sheet from the painting, wanting to see the rest of the man's eyes, see his face, but he knew he wouldn't be able to. His body was weak from the cold, and soaked from the rain. He pulled open the cupboard and saw an entire wardrobe of clothes neatly folded on the shelves. Leaning in, he picked a random shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms. The tags were still on them, he noticed.
Peeling off his clothing, he quickly changed into the new outfit. Reaching back into the wardrobe for a towel, he dried his hair, feeling too lethargic to take a shower.
The bedroom door suddenly shut behind him, making him jump.
Had someone been watching him?
Sam took in his surroundings as he walked through the dimly lit hallway. His heart hammering in his chest at the dark walls of the house surrounding him.
A house…it felt more like a tomb. The black and grey walls were decorated in wooden panels. A few candelabra's hung on either side of the hallway, lighting up small spaces and leading once again to darkness. The darkness only made the wide hallways that much more extensive and cold. It was hollow, untouched almost. It had the sense of foreboding to anyone who walked down the labyrinth of corridors. No one had been living here for a long while.
Sam sighed as he passed another turn leading to another long winding hallway that looked exactly like the one he was currently walking along. Gabriel really had his work cut out for him. There wasn't a stray cobweb or a speck of dust anywhere along the hallway. It didn't seem like too long to lose himself in his thoughts and take a turn through a corridor. He could feel Gabriel's golden eyes watching his every move with fervour and curiosity. He seemed to sway silently in the dim darkness and almost hide among the shadows as he showed Sam the way back to his quarters.
Sam tried to keep up with the twists and turns, but he found himself in a fit of desperation. He was completely lost.
He took in a deep breath, noticing Gabriel slowing to accommodate his injured leg. Concentrating in the space around him, he tried to get a scope of the area. Where was the entrance? How long would it take to get from his room to the front door? What pace did Gabriel take when he walked? Was Castiel around here somewhere? Maybe they had passed Dean's room.
Sighing, Sam gazed around the corridor once again. He saw a faint light coming from a slightly ajar door a few metres away.
"What is that?" He asked, leaning back on the poker and wanting to see what that was. Maybe if he could find a room that would be familiar, he's be able to work his way out of the house, if he needed to.
Gabriel paused and looked back. He took hold of Sam's arm and led him to the solace of light. Quickening his steps, he pushed the door open, and ushered Sam inside.
It was a library.
Books covered the shelved walls, rising high into the sky. There was a long table to Sam's left, and an immense fireplace with sofa's lined in a square around it to his right. There was a balcony that ran halfway up along the wall. Much like the rest of the house, the walls to the floor above him was taken over by windows rising up to the sky.
Whoever lived here liked the sun. Either that or missed the warmth it gave. Maybe this place was like a prison.
Such a magnificent library.
Sam walked into the fire lit room and took in a deep breath of the pine and paper. He wasn't a lover of literature, unless it was educational – that was more Dean's secret hobby – but he was curious. He ran his fingers over the slight-dust covered books and sighed. This place must be reclusive for Gabriel not to come in here and dust.
What this library could be hiding in its shelves…
Gabriel moved over to the bookshelf by the fireplace and picked at a large black book sitting slanted on the shelf.
"Castiel enjoys books," Gabriel said, blowing against the thin cover. A thin sheen of dust blew off and settled in the air around him. "I try to give him what he needs."
He handed the book to Sam. The taller man took it in his free hand, inspecting it. The book had no name on it, just a thick black cover.
"I recommend it,"
Sam settled himself on a comfortable looking sofa, facing the firelight and pulled the book open.
"It this the bible?" He asked, reading through the first scrawled scriptures of the hand written passage of the book. It didn't seem like a bible, more like a diary. But everything was written in a text similar to the Old Testament. Historical literature was very interesting to Sam. But this seemed too personal.
"It is our history," Gabriel stated.
A sudden shifting of cloth against cloth echoed through the library, seeming quiet, as if not wanting to be heard. Wait… Sam looked up to the shadows of the library, holding his breath. And then turned to Gabriel.
"Does anyone else live here?" He asked.
Gabriel shook his head, smirking. "You are seated in Castiel's spot," he said in a sing-song voice. "He doesn't like it."
The hair on the nape of Sam's neck stood up, his eyes wide as he tried to concentrate on the space around him. If Castiel was not going to show himself, then Sam would have to learn to listen to the silence.
"I am sorry, Castiel," He said aloud, receiving no answer. "May I rest here for now?"
A swish of cloth…
Sam quickly turned around, fright and terror set on his beautiful features. If they wanted to attack him, they had all of the power now. There was nothing else here he could use, unless he paper-cut his attacker. He turned to Gabriel, seeing the smaller man skimming through a book.
Sam heard Castiel move behind him, the slight ruffle of cloth upon cloth once again. He quickly turned around, determination shining in his eyes. All he saw was the shadows the book shelves provided.
"I think we should leave," Sam suddenly said, placing the book down.
Gabriel just chuckled musically, which made Sam shiver warmly at the sound.
He heard the cloth yet again, this time the sound was closer that the one before. He blindly raised his arm in sheer determination to capture whoever it was. There was nowhere for him to run, not with his leg.
He caught the end of a soft fabric, the cloak. He pulled on it hearing a shocked cry. As if the wind itself, the person he thought he had a hold of disappeared into the dim darkness. There was a giggle right in front of him.
Castiel was playing with him?
Heart pounding wildly in his chest, Sam stood, holding the poker in his hand and leaning on his good leg. He really didn't understand what was happening any more. Why was the owner of the house, the beast of Seraph Manor, playing hide and seek with him?
He turned to the smaller man, who was still skimming through the book, leaning on one of the pillar shelves. The dim light created a sort of glow that resonated over his gorgeous face; sunshine blonde hair slicked back to show his beautiful eyes. His pretty lips cracked into a smile. His smile was wide, his deep whiskey brown eyes mesmerising, and Sam was caught, frozen in place. He could only watch as the man leaned closer to him.
Wow…
"Don't mind Cassie," He said, his voice filled with mirth. "We don't get out much,"
Sam could see that.
