Sam never thought that he would ever be back in Hell. But here he was, walking willingly down the steep steps, deeper and deeper into walls that still haunted his dreams.
But he needed to do this, to walk down corridor after corridor, ignoring all the wails of haunted souls and any other sounds.
Sometimes it felt like the walls itself was whispering. But who knew, maybe they were.
Sam stopped at the big stone, was that marble or some other ancient stone, Sam did not know. It was weird to even wonder about such things while being in such a place.
He pushed the door open, noting how easily they slid open by his touch, no resistance at all.
The long stone hall was lit with flickering torches and tall dripping candles. Their glow shadowed everything but at the same time made him feel at ease. It was weird to explain but Sam has been through a lot that would lay beyond the line of weird.
On the far side stood the massive, yet delicate, throne chair.
And there she sat, lounging as casually as one could, dressed in a long flowing dress as red as her burning hair that was pulled back in loose curls.
He never thought of her as the kind to wear a crown but now a gleaming one, with scattered gevels, rested on top of her soft curls.
She held a glass of wine in one hand and leather bound book in other but when Sam stepped into the throne room, she looked up, surprise written all over her face before she sat up straighter, putting her book and glass away.
- Samuel. What a surprise. - Even her voice was soothing to him.
- Rowena. Or should I say, my grace? - Sam walked up to the throne.
- As you wish, boy king. - Rowena smiled her wicked smile, fully disarming Sam.
He could feel himself crumbling, his face must say it all because in one swift movement, Rowena was on her feet, pulling Sam into a deep hug.
He hid his face in her soft curls that still smelled of summer grass and fire, his tears breaking free.
She was the delicate one here, but at that moment Sam felt small and broken, letting these delicate arms hold him together.
Sam wasn't the crying type, never been, early on he has learned that it's nothing good, that it's only showing your weakness and showing your weakness meant leading yourself to death.
But now here he was, fully sobbing his eyes out, his whole body trembling.
But Rowena, the queen she was, held him close, running one soft hand through his hair, soothing him all the same.
- Oh sweetling. - She whipped his tears away with soft fingers when Sam finally lifted his head.
- He's dead... He died in a stupid vampire hunt... And I could do nothing... Absolutely nothing to hold him while life left him... - Sam sounded foreign even to himself, so distant and broken.
- I know, I know. But listen, Samuel, it was not your fault. He chose that, you know it. - Rowena cupped his face and looked him straight in the eyes, her own burning fierce.
Just standing there, looking in these burning eyes was like a first gulp of air after not being able to breathe.
He could feel the exhaustion seep out of his body, his mind relaxing.
Rowena smiled, leading him to the matching throne chair, pushing a glass of wine in his hand, picking up her own.
He took a long sip, closing his eyes at the warm flowing through his veins.
He tasted notes of herbs and spices in his wine, smiling softly at Rowena's doing.
- Small tricks? - He smiled softly at her, taking another long sip of his wine.
- Works even in Hell. - She laughed.
Sam couldn't help but join in.
They sat there talking about everything and nothing, sipping wine, just catching up.
For the first time since Dean's passing, Sam felt at ease, no darkness clouding his mind.
- Maybe I should join you. - He said out of blue, gazing down the massive hall.
- Well, you still count as the boy king of Hell. And, they all are still terrified of you. - Rowena laughed, watching Sam.
- Would you allow that? Would you accept me? - Sam turned to look at her, holding her breath, not knowing what he would do if she declined.
- Of course, Samuel. It's always a pleasure to work with you. And if this is helping you heal, then why not? - She shrugged, leaning back in her chair, her crown jewels catching light from the candles, shining even brighter.
- Would you make me wear a crown? - He teased.
- Oh my, to make you even taller? - She teased back, curling a lock of Sam's hair against her finger. - But it would suit these locks. -
- Not as good as yours. - Sam smiled, leaning back in his own chair, once again sweeping his eyes over the great throne hall.
It was weird to feel so at ease while sitting at the throne of Hell but he noted that it probably got a lot to do with the redhead sitting beside him.
It was a new start, he knew that, could feel it in his bones. This was a new chapter in his life. He will sit the throne with a jeweled crown resting on his head, learn all things of magic from Rowena and support her ruling over Hell, yet still make the world a better place.
And who he was kidding, he was eager to learn all the things of magic, having always been interested in all the ancient things, even more so after reading Rowena's journals.
So now he sat there, a small smile playing over his lips, Rowena at his right hand, ready for the days to come.
He was at ease and as weird as it was, he was home.