The proverbial sleeves are rolled up and the first round of magic is prepped.
Rowena's just curious how this new archangel's gonna take it.
Rowena took two steps inside the medical tent and paused to study the unmoving figure in the bed.
Seeing his condition hadn't changed in the past hour or so, she walked the rest of the way close and stopped by the nightstand.
There she stood still, taking in the unsettling sight of the bruised and swollen visage. Barely recognizable under all that purple and green.
Compelled by a sudden rush of sentimentality, the witch reached out a hand only just beginning to thrum with soon to be used magical energy and laid it, softer than soft, at the center of the boy's chest. Unexpectedly reassured by the steady rise and fall.
"I'm sorry, dearie," she whispered, never minding that the lad couldn't hear her. "If only I'd been called in sooner."
Then the Scot gasped as, in a flash, an image was thrust unbidden into the focus of her mind's eye:
A body, broken and half alive; insides caught up in an uncontrolled bleeding while ruptured organs floundered to keep themselves together. Their screams for help at long last silenced by the grace of a heavenly being's divine intervention.
The witch flinched away, not having expected the touch to activate her second sight. Or, in the very least, not in such a vivid way. And certainly not to show her anything so horrid as that.
Now wondering at how the lad had survived at all, and understanding all the better exactly the 'why' behind Castiel's current heavily diminished condition, the witch commenced her work.
Moving hands that, to her eyes, shone with ripples of supernatural power, she began by tracing the sigil painted upon the bed linens. Reinforcing it and its counterpart splashed upon the ceiling, willing both to work more efficiently in their task of keeping a certain archangel from 'miracling' himself away.
Satisfied when the wardings' influences proved considerably strengthened, Rowena moved to the closest wall, keen to be on with the next part, and found the place where the room's sigils began. There the witch tied a fresh strand of her spell to it and began to cast in earnest.
At the sound of breathing beginning to burden Rowena chanced a glance backward and grimaced at the wrinkle on her subject's previously smooth brow. Knowing that the only thing for it was to see her work through to the end, she attuned her ears to monitor the worsening situation and pushed her body to spin her magic faster.
At her new, more determined speed, Rowena worked the rest of the way from where solid wall met its fabric counterpart and round to the opposite like corner. Then, sparing herself not an extra breath between passes, the witch began her second sweep with a smooth doubling back movement, working reverse-wise parallel to the string she'd just lain, building a weft through which she'd soon be shuttling her warp. Weaving —quite nearly literally— a sheet of magic which would attach itself to the tent's existing warding. Empowering and stabilizing the sigils whose slipshod construction had been a thing born of desperation and fear.
Upon completion of her final horizontal round, Rowena caught her shoulders relaxing their unusually rigid posture and she breathed a sigh of relief, for the sounds of labored sleep from the bed had subsided substantially as she'd readied to move from weft to warp.
At that rate, it wouldn't be long before a certain archangel would be waking and no doubt making unreasonable demands of-
"Who are you?"
Speak of the devil, Rowena thought as the harshness of the question caused the witch to pause in her weaving, if only for a moment.
Unwilling to abandon her work at that particular, untenable juncture, the witch finished her round, doing her best to ignore the distinct, uneasy feeling of being studied, and came to a stop at one side of the newly enchanted space.
There she put a proverbial pin in her weaving, turned, and looked into the face of one now more magically immobilized than ever. Searching cold eyes for a trace of the sweet goofball she'd somehow, somewhere along the way, accidentally come to care for.
"I'll ask only once more: Who are you?" Rumbled the entity in the borrowed body. An entity who'd obviously never been instructed in the finer points of conversation. Nor manners, for that matter.
Not interested in taking that sort of lip from a barbarian of such ill repute, Rowena gave a dismissive sniff and turned from the bed. Going right back to where she'd so generously been working, moving hands now dripping with magic just so as to pick up the trail where she'd left off.
Tiring, sooner than she thought a grown woman should, of her archangel directed 'cold shoulder', the witch gave in to one of her more childish impulses and attempted to engage the uncouth being in some light banter.
"So, you really were asleep this whole time? And here I thought you were ignoring me."
At the heavy silence that ensued, the spell caster glanced back, only to be shocked by how positively not Dean the entity glowering at her clearly was. For Dean, even at his most desperate, would never have aimed to make her as uncomfortable- as intimidated as the archangel pinned to his bed was right then.
With a fortifying breath, the witch went back to what she was doing and did her best to ignore the feeling of eyes following her every move.
Sooner again than she'd have liked though, her less mature side was biting at the bit for a spot of entertainment and it was not but a few minutes in that her resolve crumbled a second time.
"I suppose then that Samuel didn't tell you I was coming?" She asked, waiting a polite stretch for a response. Then going on when all there was was more of that oppressive silence. "I never imagined you'd have been sleeping since before he called me," she half fibbed. "I've been here the better part of the evening myself now, so you've been out of it quite a while."
"Who did Samuel supposedly call?" Asked that same unnaturally still voice, this time so steeped in venom the witch almost let it get to her.
"Och, where are my manners?" She asked, executing a flourishy turn as she again reached the outer limit of her weaving space. "My name is Rowena MacLeod. I'm here by request of the Winchesters to assist in the readying of you and Dean for your transference to your new vessel. Which I will also be readying. With Castiel's assistance," she added, just to be clear.
"The Winchesters associate with your ilk?" Demanded the supernatural being whose utter contempt seemed, unexpectedly, to falter just a hair at the news.
"I believe it is I who associate with their 'ilk'," Rowena corrected with a raise of her chin. "After all, I am a particularly great and powerful witch. And I am also the reason for your sudden return to consciousness. You're welcome," she added with a smirk. One that grew when the hateful look leveled unwaveringly her way morphed instead, largely, to one of befuddlement.
"You're not removing the wardings, yet their effects are... lessening," the angel observed with a frown.
"In a way, yes; in another, no," the witch said as she moved to bring herself to a better distance for conversation. Stopping, as casually as possible, after just the one step, when the bedridden being stiffened noticeably. Perhaps readying to lash out. Perhaps suddenly keenly aware of who wielded the power around there. Either way, she continued from where she stood.
"I'm essentially softening one element of the sigils while reinforcing another. You may notice that your ability to smite is now completely out of your reach? Conversely, you've already regained your ability to heal yourself. Or at least, some of the ability. Again, you're welcome."
"You, a Godforsaken witch, are helping me? The preeminent denizen of His true Heaven?" The biblical being half demanded, half queried. "I take it then that you know Dean?" He concluded with a squint, the remainder of his glower leaning towards the quizzical.
"Aye, we've been acquainted a number of years now. He's done me a few good turns and I him in return," the witch confirmed, taking an unthinking step forward as she spoke. Stopping once again when the bedridden being's expression reverted to something ugly.
A protracted moment of her standing still though and the threatening edge bled from the look as the angel in the bed relaxed just a hair. Ready to continue their conversation.
"And how did a witch as 'great and powerful' as yourself, someone who has obviously been practicing her craft longer than this infantile excuse for a country has existed, become beholden to these bumbling buffoons?"
"Beholden? Dear, you've got it all wrong," Rowena informed, a trill of genuine laughter escaping her at the thought.
"Have I? Then pray tell exactly what sort of sway they hold over you," the unamused one demanded, tone hard.
"Monetary," the witch said with another giggle, enjoying the look of confusion transforming the invalid's face, surprisingly, into something almost... familiar. "They're paying me for my services, deary."
Seeming not to appreciate the endearment, the guileless confusion disappeared from the stranger's face in an instant, erasing any and all thoughts Rowena may have had of making any more inroads with the being this particular conversation.
Instead, the spellcaster moved back to the walls she'd been reworking, again ignoring the eyes following her every move, and picked back up for her final round. Rather relieved when the perpetual threat to her back allowed her to work in peace.
Upon completion of her weaving, the witch tied off in a way that would leave no room for tampering and turned to offer a polite incline of her head to the newly revived planet ravager. A planet ravager she was almost surprised was no longer staring daggers her way.
Rather pleased by instead the reflexive glower the primordial being responded with, Rowena gave a smirk and pushed her way out of the enchanted place and back into the mundane world.
If a place as heavily warded and sealed as the Winchester's bunker could truly be referred to as 'mundane', anyway.
Poor archangel can't comprehend the concept of a witch being 'good'. He must never have seen The Wizard Of Oz! XD