A/N: Thanks Loreley and kitsune911! And thanks to everyone who's been leaving me reviews, as they never fail to brighten my day ^_^
This chapter is set after season 11, when Lucifer is just sorta missing-but-out-there-somewhere. I actually started getting glimpses of this after reading Aini Nufire's fic Hellhound Games, which made me want to write Juliet into a chapter somewhere! This seemed to fit the bill ^_^
Then, if you can believe it, I only have one more scene after this one!
It was good to be king.
Crowley sat back in his throne, cunning eyes gazing out over the humbly averted faces of his gathering. Or, so he liked to think. In reality, the demon knew his reign was hanging on by a thread—and a delicate one, at that. Amara was gone, and so was Lucifer, but the memory of his humiliating time as the Devil's plaything was still all too sharp. For him, as well as his court.
There were many, he knew, who were still hoping that Lucifer would return to reclaim the role of king. Still others were probably considering the position for themselves. At the moment, Crowley doubted it would take much of a push for a challenger to step forward. He needed to cement his position, now, but the demon had no ideas at the moment. Something to remind them all of his strength, his power. Something to make them fear him again.
If he didn't do so, and soon, Crowley was liable to end up with a knife in his back.
A commotion from out in the hall brought the demon out of his musings, sitting up straighter in the ornate chair and frowning at the closed doors. The demon court shifted at the sound, some with unease and some with anticipation. A coup in the making, perhaps? Crowley's eyes narrowed. He was prepared.
When the heavy doors blew open with a crash, though, Crowley had to do a double-take. A host of demons trampled in, but they weren't rushing for the attack; they were dragging another figure in with them. A figure in a tan trench coat.
"Bloody hell," Crowley murmured under his breath, barely able to hide his shock as he watched the demons force Castiel forward into the center of the room. The angel scowled with obvious displeasure, trying to fight off the hands that held him. His wrists had been pulled behind his back and trapped in the sigiled cuffs that Crowley had prepared for someone else entirely.
The king counted seven demons: two had latched onto Castiel's arms to manhandle him along, a third stood behind him with one hand clenched in the angel's hair to force his head back, stolen angel blade pressing against Cas's throat. Which left four to look smug and act like they had helped.
Pasting an unimpressed expression on his face, Crowley propped his chin up on one hand and leaned against the arm of the throne.
"Care to explain?" he asked, gesturing with his free hand at the captured angel.
One of the demons who wasn't contributing in the slightest stepped forwards, looking proud of himself. The three who were actually holding Cas also thrust him a few inches closer to the throne despite his attempt to dig his heels in.
"Caught him snooping around by the Front Door," the empty-handed demon explained. "One of the traps got him."
Well, that was just perfect. The traps hadn't been intended for Cas. Crowley bit back a sigh, appraising the silent angel. Castiel was glaring at him with murderous intent—bold, for an angel captured in Hell and brought before the king himself. And just what was the idiot doing in Hell in the first place? Damn it, how was he supposed to get Cas out of there now without losing face with the court? Did the angel have no consideration for the trouble his presence brought Crowley?
Besides, Castiel was universally hated and feared by the demons; this rabble was going to want blood, and if Crowley didn't provide, that would be just the excuse for some ambitious upstart to try and take the throne. Even now, Crowley could see the calculating stares; they were waiting to see what he would do.
But maybe there was a way to turn this to his advantage and still get the angel out of there in one piece—after all, what good would Cas be to Crowley if he was dead?
Crowley's bored expression slowly shifted to a shrewd smirk, eyeing Castiel more critically now. "So," he drawled. "I've caught me an angel." Snapping his fingers, the king commanded, "Juliet… fetch."
A hushed, excited silence fell over the court as a massive Hellhound appeared from behind the throne. Even Cas's eyes widened, trying to shake off the restraining hands that held him in place, as a low growl rumbled through the stone chamber. It grew to a snarl, and the beast bounded straight towards the angel. The demons holding him scrambled back to give the Hellhound a wide berth, but there was nowhere for Castiel to run.
Cheers rose as Juliet tackled the angel to the ground, his bound hands not allowing him to catch himself or fight her off. Cas still attempted to kick her out of the way, ever the fighter, but he was at a severe disadvantage. When he rolled over to try clambering his way to his feet, it merely gave Juliet an unobstructed go at his back.
Powerful jaws snapped, teeth flashing in the dim light; she had found her mark.
"No!" Cas growled, breaking his silence for the first time. It was too late. The Hellhound had latched onto the trench coat, holding him by the scruff like a recalcitrant pup. She growled around the material and started to drag the angel forward. Metal clinked as Cas pulled at the manacles, trying to free his hands and get his feet under him. He managed to do neither, obliged to let the Hellhound haul him unceremoniously across the floor to Crowley's feet and hold him there.
"Good girl," the demon praised, standing up. Juliet's long, thick tail wagged once, dark fur standing on end as she clutched her natural enemy in an unyielding grip.
With a low, threatening rumble, the Hellhound pulled Castiel up enough for him to slump back on his knees, but didn't let go. Crowley moved forward to stand over the captured angel with a triumphant smirk.
"And not just any angel… the infamous Castiel." The demon tsk-ed and shook his head. "Caught snooping like some common thief. Castiel, how the mighty have fallen." He held out his hand towards the gang who had brought Cas in, smile widening when his minion handed over the blade they'd stolen. The king held the silver weapon up, twisting it this way and that to catch the light. "You really… really… shouldn't have come here."
The demons lining the chamber traded excited looks, nudging each other in obvious delight at what promised to be a good show. Castiel ignored this, his glare not losing an ounce of ferocity as he snapped, "Then kill me and be done with it."
For hell's sake. Crowley fought not to roll his eyes. Sometimes, Cas was even denser than the moronic demons who served him. Leaning over, Crowley grabbed a fistful of tan trench coat and pressed the blade against Cas's throat, snapping,
"You'll show proper respect, angel." He leaned in, voice dropping to an urgent whisper that only Cas would hear. "Damn it, play along if you want me to get you out of here."
Castiel twisted to squint at the King of Hell in suspicion. Crowley glared, trying to convey with nothing but a look that the angel would just have to trust him. Ordinarily, of course, that would be a terrible idea, but Cas was no good to him dead. So here he was, saving the angel's neck again.
Juliet growled around the coat in her mouth, hot breath chuffing against the back of Castiel's neck. Crowley could see the cogs working in the angel's mind, knew he was coming to the realization that trusting Crowley was his only choice. The demon allowed himself a small smirk of victory at the knowledge. Cas's mouth tightened, but his head dipped in an almost imperceptible nod.
"This might sting," Crowley muttered, before lowering the blade to Castiel's chest and scoring a quick slice. It was barely enough to break the skin, but it allowed a hint of glowing blue to shine out in the dark room.
Cas released a strangled shout, more surprise than pain, but the demons wouldn't know the difference. Excitement mounted in the room, the sight of the angel's blood dripping off the sharpened edge of the blade almost enough to start a frenzy. Crowley straightened.
"Why kill you so fast and be done with it?" he demanded for the audience's benefit. "No, no. Not until you've suffered. Not as satisfying as Lucifer, I must admit, but I'll just use my imagination and pretend you're still him… as I cut you apart… one… piece… at a time."
Cas stole a quick look around before clearing his throat and muttering loudly, "No demon should be strong enough to defeat an angel."
Hmm. A little on the nose, but the demons were too stirred up to notice. Smirking, Crowley pointed the bloody blade at the captive.
"Yes, but I'm the king." He turned and motioned for the original group to step forward again. "You lot, take him to the warded cells and lock him up. I'll be down in a minute to have some fun."
Juliet released the angel with another low snarl, then slunk back behind the throne once more. Crowley met Cas's eyes for a few short seconds as the demons surged forward to grab him, and then they were gone.
The bloodied angel blade was still in Crowley's hand. He held it aloft as evidence of his power, turning back to his court, and his expression shifted from triumphant to grim. "Never forget," he growled, deadly serious. "If you think what I do to the angel is torture… it's nothing compared to what I'll do to anyone who betrays me."
He gazed from one face to the next, capturing the eyes of every demon in turn. It did the trick. There were precious few demons who could say they'd drawn blood from an angel. The ambitious would think twice before trying to stand against him, for the moment at least. When Crowley was satisfied that all were appropriately humbled, he teleported out of sight towards the cells.
When the demon reappeared in the warded prison, Cas was sitting on the floor with his back against the far wall where he'd probably been shoved down, still bleeding, still annoyed. He scowled up at Crowley and grumbled,
"I suspect you enjoyed that."
"A bit," Crowley agreed, before raising one shoulder in a shrug. "A lot, actually. In fact, I might not let you go after all." He gestured with the stolen blade, smirking as he looked the chained angel up and down. "I rather like you like this. Just imagine all the juicy possibilities."
Castiel only rolled his eyes, a move he must have picked up from the Winchesters somewhere along the line. Crowley shook his head, eyebrows raised.
"No? Well, if you're sure. I still need to hear the magic words if you want the cuffs to come off."
If looks could kill, Crowley thought with amusement, he would be dead. The angel's jaw worked for a second before he finally growled, "…Please."
Crowley's smirk widened. "No, darling, the other magic words."
Castiel heaved a sigh, looking away with an irate expression. Crowley almost wondered if the angel would refuse, but he could wait until the end of time to hear the words.
"Fine," Castiel ground out after a moment. "You win. This time. Are you happy?"
"Immensely. What are you doing here, anyway?" Crowley asked, fishing through his inner pocket for the key to the warded manacles. Cas got to his feet and turned around so Crowley could free his hands. The chains fell to the floor with a clank, while Cas replied,
"Looking for Lucifer. I assume the trap was set for him."
"Yes, and now I have to reset it. And I'm going to have to put a demon in charge of guarding this cell on pain of execution, and then I'm going to have to execute him when it turns out you've escaped. So thanks for nothing."
Castiel snorted. "Am I supposed to be apologetic?"
"You're supposed to be careful, you numpty! Couldn't have just called about Lucifer, could you? All of this could have been avoided!"
The cut he had made on Castiel's chest was completely gone now, as the angel extended a hand for the blade. Crowley glowered, holding the weapon up but not returning it. Really, it would save him so much trouble in the end to just kill the bloody angel. Except, Crowley had enough to worry about with his own court to feel like facing the shit-storm it would bring down on him from Moose and Squirrel. His messy and torturous demise at their hands would just be inconvenient at the moment, that was the only reason he was letting the angel go.
"Now," Cas snapped.
Crowley huffed and relinquished the sword with a touch of disappointment. "Don't get your feathers in a twist. Here."
With a nod, Castiel accepted the blade back and stowed it away in his coat. "Incidentally," the angel said. "You should know the demons who caught me were plotting behind your back. You may want them to be the ones assigned to guard this cell so you can dispose of them without arousing suspicion."
Hmm. Crowley raised an eyebrow, musing on that. It figured. "Can't trust anyone these days," he complained. "It pays to have loyal friends."
Castiel stared at him as Crowley grabbed the angel's arm in preparation to transport them both out of the sigiled cell and back to Earth. The king of Hell paused and returned the sideways look. "Oh, not you," he clarified. "We're not friends."
"No, we're not," Cas agreed.
"By the way, if you would do me the tiny favor of spreading the word about how you barely escaped with your life thanks to the idiocy of some low-level demon, and how King Crowley mercilessly tortured you with his superior power, I'd be much obliged."
"What superior power?" Castiel asked with a snort. "No one would believe that, and I'm not a very good liar."
"It's not a lie! I do have superior power!"
"Compared to what? A cupid?"
"Now listen here, you feathered birdbrain-"
A silent pop, and both angel and demon disappeared back to the surface, still arguing through the entire journey.
UPDATED: I've added a fun fanart sketch to my deviantart account (29-pieces-of-me) as Castiel vs Juliet!