The Wedding

It was on a sunny afternoon that three men stepped down from their horses and handed them over to the footmen.

Dean, the youngest of the three, took a shaky breath and looked up at Angelous Castle.

This was the moment he had been dreading since he, his best friend Chris and Sir Fergus Crowley had begun their journey three days earlier.

Chris draped his arm around his shoulder as they both looked up at the white stone walls and the tall towers.

"Are you alright?" Chris asked.

Dean shook his head. "Not really. I'm scared, Chris."

"I know you are. But you're gonna be fine, Dean."
"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm here to make sure you don't fuck this up."

Dean shrugged him off. "Thanks. You're a big help."

Chris grinned. "Like I said, it's why I'm here."

"Actually you're here to act as his valet." Sir Crowley said, looking at them with his usual distain. "Which means, you're his servant. Which means you follow orders and you don't speak."

Chris rolled his eyes at the Englishman. "The best part of this trip, Dean. Is we can finally be rid of Sir Fergus here."

"It's Sir Crowley."

Chris bowed. "I apologize your lordship."

Sir Crowley sighed in exasperation. "Dean, we should go in. Your servant can wait out here."

Dean barely heard them anymore. Sir Crowley and his best friend had been bickering since they left. And right now, he had more pressing matters to worry about.

He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's go in then…All of us."

"Holy shit, look at this place, Dean." Chris said as a doorman who was wearing a powdered white wig – much to Chris' amusement – and was dressed in a formal blue suit, white stockings, and shiny black shoes, showed them in through the heavy oak doors.

Dean looked around, his mouth falling open.

The great hall was huge, the ceilings of carved stone rose fifty feet above his head. A second story encircled the room with a stone rail embedded with the purple and gold coats of arms of the royal family.

The walls were embossed with carved, rich wood and beautiful rugs of bright colors covered the stone floor.

And in the center of the hall was a massive stone fireplace. On either side of that, was a life-sized portrait – one of the king in a red velvet robe and the other of the queen in a similar red gown, her hair piled high upon her head.

Dean swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as cotton.

He wondered what he was doing here. He'd never belong here. He was only a peasant in his dusty clothes and worn old boots.

He was about to say just that, when his thoughts were interrupted by the doorman.

"If you'll please wait here," the man said simply.

And then he walked away, leaving them to stand at the bottom of the grand staircase.

"You don't even know how lucky you are, Dean." Chris said once the man was out of hearing distance. "You are gonna be rolling in money."

"Yeah, it's wonderful being a sacrificial cow, Chris." He snapped back.

Chris grinned. "Did you just call yourself a cow?"

"Shuddup. You're not the one who has to marry some strange omega."

"Hey Dean? Look at this." Chris said, ignoring his comment. He picked up an ornate vase from a small marble table and turned it over to glance at the bottom. "I bet this vase could buy your whole house."

"Will you both be quiet." Crowley snapped, his own voice hushed. "And put that down. You need to be respectful. This is the royal castle."

Chris nodded. "Yes sir." And then he fumbled with the vase so it almost fell from his hands. He grinned at Crowley's horrified expression, then carefully put it back on the table.

"Now, remember Dean," Crowley continued. "Do not speak unless you're spoken to. And make sure you bow like I showed you. And for God's sake, try to act like a gentleman."

Dean glared at him because really, after three days on the road together, he'd had about enough of Sir Crowley.

The man had not stopped lecturing him on proper etiquette and Dean figured if he didn't have it down by now, he never would.

Besides, Sir Crowley was far from his favorite person on the best of days. In Dean's opinion, he was a fop and a braggart and worst of all, a gossip.

Unfortunately, Dean's mother held a different opinion.

Which was the reason she'd suggested that Sir Crowley escort him to the castle.

They'd been waiting for some time when suddenly they noticed that the doorman had stepped silently back into the foyer and was watching them with a look of haughty disapproval

"Gentlemen. If you'll please follow me, I'll show you into the study."

They turned to follow, but the doorman held up his hand.

"I'm sorry. The queen has asked that you wait out here, Sir Crowley."

Chris grinned and Dean too found himself smirking.

"Why?" Crowley asked indignantly.

"She did not give a reason." The doorman answered. "Would you like me to ask her for you?"

Crowley shook his head. "No. Of course not."

He looked at Dean and sighed. "Just…try to be good."

Dean smiled. "I always am."

With that, Dean and Chris followed the doorman briskly down a long hall with a shiny oak floor upon which stretched colorful wool runners and rugs of varying patterns. The high ceilings and walls were hand-painted in a soft white with ornate ivy leaf trim and every few feet a painting was hung, each displaying a pastoral scene carefully chosen to fit the décor.

Everything was exquisite and Dean couldn't help but think how much his mother would have been enthralled.

She hadn't come though. The queen had not sent a carriage for her and hiring one was out of their reach. Instead, Crowley had ridden his own steed and he and Chris had borrowed horses from the livery.

The doorman came to a stop in front of a closed door and gently rapped before pushing it opened.

Dean wasn't sure what to expect.

But the king and queen of Angelous standing before a large oak desk, was a surprise. A very intimidating surprise.

"It's the King and Queen, Dean." Chris whispered into Dean's ear as they stepped into the ornately decorated study.

Dean refrained from rolling his eyes. Chris did have a habit of stating the obvious.

The royal couple were both dressed impeccably of course.

King Charles wore a silk blue jacket, cream slacks and matching cream cravat. Queen Naomi wore a mauve gown which was high to her throat, topped by laced ruffles. An ornate diamond pin held the collar together. Other than that, her adornments were minimal. Just a string of pearls draped down her bodice and her only ring was her glittering diamond wedding band.

Dean swallowed nervously, suddenly very aware of his own thread-bear suit which was a hand-me-down from his father.

It also didn't help that the queen's eyes were cold and appraising as she studied him.

But at least King Charles smiled warmly.

Dean took a deep breath and stepped up to stand before the queen first as Crowley had instructed.

He carefully bowed and then spoke the words Crowley had made him memorize.

"It's a great honor, your majesty. My mother asked that I extend her warmest regards and relay her regrets that she was unable to make the trip."

The queen made no response other then a slight nod, so Dean moved over to the king and performed a similar routine.

The king smirked at the obviously well rehearsed young man. "Young Dean." He said. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you, your majesty."

"Please, there's no need to be so formal. In a short while we'll be family. And, my family calls me Chuck. Except Castiel of course. He calls me father. What do you think Naomi? Should Dean call me Chuck or Father?"

The queen's cold expression didn't falter. "I think sir will do for now. We don't want Dean to feel uncomfortable."

Chuck smiled indulgently. "No, my dear. We certainly wouldn't want that."

"So, Dean," he continued. "Will you introduce us to your companion."

"Um yeah, of course. This is Christian Kane. He's …my valet."

Chris stepped up and bowed. "I'm honored to meet you, your majesty."

"Thank you, young man. Dean must hold you in high regard. I don't believe I've ever heard of a valet accompanying his master to his wedding."

"Dean's not actually my master, sir. I mean we're friends as well. We work together at the livery in Hanover. Or we did before he had to come here. I guess Dean doesn't need to work anymore."

Chuck smirked, clearly amused. "No. I don't suppose he does."

Chuck then turned to Dean.

"Well Dean, I think it's just fine that your friend will be attending the ceremony."

"Thank you, sir. I thought, I mean I was hoping Chris could be my best man."

"Of course he can."

"This wedding is just a formality, Dean." Naomi said cooly. "We'll get it over with and you and our son will leave for his estate immediately after."

She glanced at Chris with some disdain. "There's really no need for a best man."

And then her eyes dismissed him and she turned her attention to Chuck.

"Where is Castiel, anyway?"

"I'm right here mother."

They all turned to see that two men were standing in the entranceway.

One was an older gentleman – a minister by his dress – he was tall and rather handsome, with thick grey hair. He also wore a scowl on his face and did not look in the least bit happy to be there though.

Dean barely noticed him however.

It was the other man who held his focus.

If Dean had been expecting some frumpy, middle-aged omega, then he was clearly mistaken.

Not that Prince Castiel Angelous was a big man. He was only of average height and build. And his dress was subdued, black trousers, a grey jacket and a faded blue cravat. And yet despite that, he struck an imposing figure with a head of black curls, a strong jaw and full lips. His best feature though, were his striking blue eyes which seemed to have locked onto Dean's.

He has his mother's eyes, Dean thought. And yet, he reconsidered, not like hers at all. Because while hers were as cold as ice, the prince's were gentle and filled with curiosity.

And also, Dean thought, a little sadness as well.

"Castiel." The queen said with some impatience. "I see you've decided to grace us with your presence."

Castiel blinked, breaking the moment. He turned his attention to the queen.

"I apologize, mother." He said, his voice surprisingly gruff, "Reverend Cain and I were in the garden and I hadn't realized your guests had arrived."

The queen scowled, shaking her head. "They are not our guests, Castiel. This young man has come a long way to meet you."

Castiel returned his gaze to Dean and smirked with some bitterness. "My betrothed I assume?"

"This is Dean Winchester of the Hanover Winchesters, Castiel." The queen said.

Dean bowed formally. "Your majesty."

Castiel smirked. "Relax Mr. Winchester. You don't need to bow to me. In very short order, your station will be higher than mine."

"Really Castiel, you don't need to call him Mr. Winchester either." The queen interjected. "Dean, this is obviously my son, Prince Castiel. And this is Reverend Cain. He will be performing the ceremony.".

"I'd like to say that I'm pleased to meet you, son." The reverend said. "But I'm not sure this is a happy occasion. It seems to me, a couple should be well acquainted before they commit to each other for life. Of course that's just my opinion which I'm afraid doesn't count for much around here."

"That's alright Reverend." Castiel replied. "I don't think my or Dean's opinions hold much weight either."

"Castiel, stop being churlish." The queen said impatiently. "Now, let's get on with it. I'm sure you'd like to head off to your estate before dark."

"Yes, please." Castiel agreed. "Let's get this over with."

Dean had been told the ceremony would be small. Which had been a great relief to him. But even though it would be small he did think it would be somewhat traditional. As it turned out, it was anything but.

First of all, it was unheard of, well by Dean at least, that a wedding did not take place in a church. Or, at least a chapel.

But this was to be performed right there, in the study.

And even more surprising to Dean, this was not to be like any wedding he'd ever attended.

Reverend Cain, who had moved to stand before the wedding party, began.

"Before we begin, I would like you to know that I had a long talk with Prince Castiel in the garden and he has requested that we leave the word 'love' out of the vows."

"I was hesitant at first." He continued. "But then I realized that he was right. Since Prince Castiel and Mr. Winchester have never met, I couldn't in good conscience ask them to vow to love one another. Other than that, we will follow the traditional vows given in a legal joining of man and omega. I hope this is acceptable."

The queen took it upon herself to answer. "So long as they are legally bound, I take no issue with it."

Reverend Cain smiled softly. "I was actually wondering how Dean felt about it, your majesty. Since he is the groom."

Everyone glanced at Dean who seemed to have fixated his eyes on a small sculpture of an angel sitting on the large oak desk behind the reverend. The silence had only begun to grow awkward before Chris gently nudged him and Dean looked up with a start.

"I do…" he sputtered.

Chris rolled his eyes and Dean felt a flutter of panic and glanced to his right.

It only lasted a moment, but for the first time, he saw Castiel smile. And strangely, his panic eased.

"Excuse me Dean," the reverend asked gently, "I was asking if you would allow for the word love to be left out of the vows."

For a moment Dean looked puzzled. But then he shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. It's fine with me if that's what Cas wants." He answered.

From behind him he thought he heard a small gasp from the queen.

"Well then, let us continue." The reverend said, smiling in amusement.

"As you give your vows, you may also exchange your rings." He added.

Chris quickly dug in his pocket and then pulled out the silver ring that Dean had given him earlier. It was a simple ring that Dean's father had given him for his eighteenth birthday. It certainly was not fit for a prince, but it held a place in his heart and Dean only hoped it would not embarrass the prince too much.

He turned to face Cas and found himself once again mesmerized by those blue eyes.

"Dean, will you take this omega to be your mate?"

"I will." Dean answered softly.

"And do you promise to cherish, respect and protect him for the rest of your life?"

"I do." He answered.

"Then you may put the ring on his finger as a symbol of your lo… of your devotion."

Dean waited and for a long moment Castiel hesitated. But then finally, he held out his hand.

The ring slipped perfectly onto his finger.

The reverend nodded in approval and then turned to Cas.

"Castiel, will you take this man to be your mate?"

"I will." Castiel answered gruffly.

"And do you promise to honor, respect and obey him for the rest of your life?"

Castiel sighed. "I do."

"Then you may put the ring on his finger as a symbol of your devotion."

Dean held out his hand and Cas slipped a simple gold ring onto his finger.

"Very good." The reverend continued. "So now, if I can assume nobody has any objections to this union?"

This was followed by a moment of silence.

"Then, under God and before these witnesses, I declare you husband and ome…and husband."

The reverend grinned. "This is usually where I tell the newly wed couple that they may kiss."

Dean looked at Cas nervously, blushing slightly at the thought of their first kiss.

But Cas did not return his look. In fact, he barely glanced at him.

Instead, he answered coldly. "That won't be necessary. I assume there's some papers to sign?"

That Dean should feel a twinge of hurt was foolish. Prince Castiel was a stranger afterall. And he was clearly as unhappy as Dean was about this union. And yet, as Castiel turned his back to him and moved to the desk to sign the documents, Dean couldn't help the feeling of sadness that washed over him.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Again, it was Chris asking. And Dean smiled in appreciation as he turned and met the worried eyes of his friend.

"I'm fine."

Chris shook his head in disgust and leaned in and whispered. "He sure is a cold son of a bitch."

Dean looked over at his husband.

Cas had finished signing the documents and, as though sensing Dean was looking at him, looked up and met his gaze. And in that moment Dean once again saw a sadness in his blue eyes. It was quickly hidden though behind the angry scowl he'd been wearing since he'd appeared in the doorway.

Cas then lay the pen down on the desk and turned and walked away.

Dean sighed.

The man really was a miserable bastard.

And fucking rude too when it came down to it. Like somehow it was Dean's fault they were in this mess.

But Cas wasn't cold.

"You know, you don't have to sign to those papers." Chris whispered. "We could just leave. They can easily find some other poor fool to marry him."

It was a tempting thought, Dean thought..

But no.

He'd taken the vows and there was no backing out now.

So, even if Cas wasn't going to try. He would do his best to make this work.

Whether Cas liked it or not.