Chapter 1
Four years later: Age 4
Dean had never seen so much food in one place before, not even at last month's Harvest Festival. He wanted to try everything, but his mom had his nurse, Rachel, keeping an eye on his plate. That meant he had to be sneaky, so he waited for his mom to start arguing with the armsmaster and for Rachel to start making weird faces at the younger lords before he made his move on the roasted ox and candied yams and apple tarts. It didn't take long for the consequences to kick in: a terrible ache in his stomach and an order to his bedchambers before the feast had even ended.
Despite his protests, the prince fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. With a hearty meal in his stomach and a warm fire in the hearth, Dean could have slept straight through the night, but when he opened his eyes the sky was still dark out. Stranger still, Rachel was nowhere to be seen and someone was shouting in the hallway.
The door to his room swung open and his mother rushed inside. Tears streaked down her face as she swept him up into her arms.
"Mama?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her neck. He was frightened. The only time his mother had cried before was when bad things had happened to Grandfather Samuel.
"Don't worry, Bear," she cooed, running a hand through his hair. "You're safe."
"Don't coddle the boy, Mary," his father boomed from the shadowed doorway. "He'll find out soon enough." A baby was crying in the hallway and the King fixed Mary with a pointed stare. "Sam needs you right now."
His mother pulled back, setting Dean on the edge of his bed. She cupped his chin gently in her hands and told him, "Don't be afraid, my brave boy. Nothing's going to hurt you."
This did nothing to ease his fears, so he slid off the bed to follow his mother, but a sharp glance from his father ordered him to stay. As she walked by her husband, the Queen laid a hand on his arm. "He's only four. Please remember that."
John calmly replied, "One day he will be king. He needs to remember ithat/i."
Dean didn't need a reminder.
"Most people see life as periods of calm interrupted by brief moments of chaos," his father had told him once. "That is why most people will never be king. Every day of peace is simply another day for you to prepare for war."
Dean was still too little to train with sword or shield, so he had a different way of staying vigilant. He stepped into his slippers, straightened his night shirt, and stood at attention before his father. Everything was where it should be.
Except his father. Dean didn't know what to do when his father sat down on the floor and beckoned him forward. His mother and sometimes Rachel were the only ones who held him. His father's hand against his back felt strange and sitting in his lap was somehow worse than the hardest bench in Bobby's study.
"Have you learned of Lucifer yet in your studies?" John demanded.
Dean relaxed at the usual commanding tone. "No sir."
"I'll have to speak to Singer about starting you on more recent history," John sighed. "Do you know who High Wizard Michael is?"
"Yes, sir," Dean nodded curtly.
"Tell me."
"The High Wizard is the Keeper of the Oath as writ in the Gas. The High Wizard and his children get to keep all their magic and have to abide by the Blessing and the Binding. The High Wizard serves the kingdom and speaks for all the magefolk," Dean recited, eyes fixed on ceiling as he tried to remember the exact words Bobby had used to explain the big, scribbly rock in the Sanctuary.
"The Geas," John corrected him. "And what is the Blessing and the Binding?"
"The g-eh-sh," Dean said clearly, "says the High Wizard and his family have to Bless the children of the Throne at their six-month Blessing Ceremony. If they can't because they are too little―"
"Too young," John interrupted.
"Too young," Dean repeated, "then they have to swear an Oath to do what Sam wants."
"Any child of the throne," John stopped him again. "Two Oaths have been sworn to you as well. That's enough for the Blessing. Do you know what the Binding is?"
"The Binding means that if they hurt someone, they lose their magic?" Dean said, twisting his fingers into the hem of his nightshirt. He screwed his brows together as he tried to remember more.
"If magic is used on anyone without magic of their own, the Geas stone strips that Wizard of their power. The only time when this is not true is when granting a Blessing," the king clarified.
"Michael is the High Wizard right now, but he had a brother, Lucifer. Lucifer was a great Wizard, but a terrible man."
Dean listened quietly.
"He was married to my cousin Lilith, who was next in line to the throne before you were born. Ten years ago, there was an assassination attempt on my life. Poison was placed in my wine, and only by chance was Lilith the one to drink it that day. No one could prove that Lucifer was the culprit, but he had the most to gain from my death. Michael didn't want to kill his brother, but he was afraid Lucifer would hurt someone else, so he banished him. But all magic, except for Blessings, weakens over time. Lucifer was able to break the banishment. He chose to come back tonight."
Dean sat very still and tried to keep eye contact with his father. A prince should always look people in the eye when they are speaking to him, but now he couldn't look away even if he wanted to. He needed to know why the bad Wizard had returned and why everyone was so upset.
"As a member of the High Wizard's family, he is still eligible to give a Blessing."
"Did he give one to Sam?" Dean blurted out and covered his mouth immediately after, but John didn't seem angry. He didn't even seem disappointed.
"Yes," the king said, heaving out a deep sigh. "But it was not a Blessing like the Mark of Courage or the Mark of Wisdom. Lucifer found a very old curse and he twisted it into the form of a Blessing. It is called the Mark of the Wretched."
Dean hadn't gotten into trouble for his last question, so he dared another. "What is that?"
"It was used long ago," the king said, shifting his son so that they sat side by side. "A man would be punished by cutting out his eyes and limbs. He would be in excruciating pain and completely unable to move."
Dean tried not to cry, but couldn't stop the shivering that ran through his bones. The king didn't seem to notice, or if he did, chose to ignore it.
"The Mark of the Wretched, also known as the Mark of Cain, would be placed on him to keep him alive through the suffering inflicted through torture until a second Mark, the Mark of the Redeemed, would be placed on him. The Mark of the Redeemed would kill him instantly."
"He did that to Sammy?" Dean whispered, shrinking into himself.
"Michael banished him again before he could place the second Mark."
Dean sagged in relief, tiny shoulders slumping under his father's grip.
"But that doesn't mean he is no longer in danger. Should Lucifer return and cast the second Mark, your brother will die." John unfolded his legs and stood up in one fluid motion, pulling his sun up by his hand. "We must remove the first Mark before the banishment spell weakens enough for Lucifer to break through. We have a lot of work to do, Dean. You must work very hard."
The little prince nodded and squeezed his father's hand. He could never let down the King.
Age 5
Dean wandered further into the trees. Gordon was boring to play with but his dad was a tracker, so Dean had to hide really well. There was an oak on the other side of the yellow rose arbor with a big hole between in its branches where Gordon would never find him.
Dean moved as quietly as he could through the trees. Every so often, he would stop and listen for the other boy. If Gordon got too close, he'd have to hide quickly. There were no crunching footsteps and Dean prepared to move on when he heard it, a strange whistling that pierced the woods better than a shout.
No bird had a song quite like it, and Dean felt like a fool when he realized it wasn't a bird at all. It was a person. The old oak would have to wait, because Dean had something else to find now.
He ran as quickly as he could towards the sound. These woods were encircled by the castle walls. No one else was supposed to be in here. As he neared the northern wall, he caught sight of a little boy in a dark robe standing in the middle of a clearing. Across from him prowled a great shaggy wolf with gleaming yellow eyes.
Dean grabbed the dagger at his waist, a little gold triangle he'd gotten for his birthday. The emeralds crusting the handle hurt his fingers and the blade was too soft to break skin, but it was all Dean was allowed to carry.
He leapt through the last line of brush with a warning shout. The wolf swung its massive head to stare him down with its narrow eyes, a low snarl rumbling through its chest.
"Run!" Dean yelled at the other boy, sparing a glance to his side to see if he had gotten away, but instead of fleeing through the trees back towards the castle, the other boy darted towards the wolf.
"No! Stop!" he cried, holding his hands out between them. "Don't hurt him!"
Dean grabbed him by the shoulder and tried to drag the mad boy back.
"What are you doing?" he asked, bewildered that the other boy was trying to protect him when he was the one with the dagger. "It's a wolf!" he pointed out, in case the boy hadn't realized.
The little boy turned around, eyeing Dean and his weapon with a frown. "He's my friend."
"You can't be friends with a wolf!" Dean protested and glared at the beast who was absently licking its front paw.
"Why not?"
"Because people are friends with people, not wolves!"
"I like Chuck," the boy said with dignity.
"Oh," Dean said dubiously. "Well you should be friends with people, too."
"What people?"
Dean didn't even have to think before he said with a grin, "Me!"
The other little boy played with the hem of his sleeve, staring intently at the ground before lifting his head to look Dean up and down before glancing back at the wolf who'd moved on to sniffing one of the trees. "Yes, we will be friends," he said finally.
"Great! What's your name?" Dean said, proud that he'd found someone interesting to be friends with. He stuck the dagger back into his belt.
"I'm Castiel," the other boy said, walking a few steps so that he could scratch the wolf behind one of its ears.
"Did your family just move to the castle? I haven't seen you before."
The boy nodded, though his attention was on the wolf, Chuck. The animal nudged the kid's face once before bounding away over the hill. Dean wanted to ask what was going on, but his father had told him that you couldn't do that before getting through certain pleasantries first.
"Yes. We moved here two months ago. The king says I need to stay close to the prince." Castiel looked up through the branches, swaying a little on his feet.
Dean's eyes widened. He would get to spend time with his new friend by decree of the king himself. "That's great!"
By the frown on his serious face, Castiel didn't seem to agree. "I have a duty to uphold the Geas between our families," he said.
"You're a Wizard!" Dean blurted out. His mother had told him that Michael's family would be coming to live at the castle for a while, but he hadn't made the connection to this strange boy.
Castiel blinked at him with guileless blue eyes. "Yes. I will be working closely with Prince Samuel."
Dean's spirit sank a little when he heard his brother's name. But then he remembered that he was owed a blessing as well. "And me!"
The little Wizard frowned at him, cocking his head to one side. "Who are you?"
"I'm Dean!"
"Oh!" It came out as little more than a whisper. Suddenly, the other boy's face went blank and he dropped to his knees. "Your majesty."
"No," Dean said desperately. "Get up. You have to call me Dean."
"But you're the prince," the other boy said, eyes cast down, though he did climb back to his feet.
"We're friends!" He didn't like this new distance that had opened up between them. It seemed vitally important that Castiel treat him like he did before he found out who Dean was.
The Wizard thought about it for a moment. He seemed to think a lot. But when he opened his mouth and said, "Hello, Dean," and it was the greatest thing Dean had heard all day.
The prince grinned so hard his cheeks began to ache. "Hi, Cas."
Age 6
"What are you doing?" Dean asked as he burst into the Roundroom, panting slightly from sprinting up the steps.
The fat rat dropped from Castiel's hands and scurried into the walls. "Practicing," Castiel huffed and squatted down in front of the hole, peering into the darkness.
"Practicing what?" Dean knelt down next to him and tried to see what he saw.
"Magic. Father says I have an affinity for animals, so I should start practicing with them until I am stronger."
Dean wrinkled up his nose. There were so many words he had to learn. He had not even mastered one language when Master Singer was talking about starting him on a second. "Affie-what?"
"Affinity," Castiel said patiently and poked a finger into the hole. "It means my magic has a natural harmony with animals."
"Oh." It was true. Though the rat hid stubbornly in its hole, animals were always acting like they understood what Cas wanted. Dean waited patiently for the rat to reappear, but only for a minute. Even Castiel was frowning in consternation when Dean tugged at his arm for him to stand and follow him down the stairs.
"Come on," Dean said, remembering his original purpose of tracking down the other boy. Dean headed through the door and Castiel followed, partly out of habit and partly out of curiosity. They stopped just outside a small door hidden behind a tapestry and slipped into the hidden corridor. The other end opened up at the back of the dais so the king could slip away in an emergency, but Dean, and by association, Castiel, played here whenever they didn't want to be found.
Dean leaned close to Castiel's ear and cupped a hand conspiratorially around his mouth. "Michael said something to my Father and they made everyone leave the Great Hall."
Castiel's eyes widened as he glanced to the door. "Dean, we shouldn't be here."
"Why not?" Dean demanded as he led them further towards the other end.
Footsteps hurried down the hall and they both stood still, breaths and hands held tight until it was quiet again. Castiel ducked his head and whispered seriously, "Rules exist because bad things happen if you don't follow them."
"Like what?" Dean scoffed. Bad things only happened to bad people. Thieves were imprisoned, murderers hanged, and traitors, though he'd never seen one, were beheaded. Sneaking into the Great Hall hardly deserved a tongue-lashing.
"Like the Mage Wars," Cas said quietly, staring angrily at his own hands fisted in the front of his robe.
"That's silly," Dean scoffed and grabbed his wrist. "You're just sneaking into the Great Hall, not being a Dark Wizard. Come on! We're going to miss it."
Cas wasn't entirely convinced, but curiosity won out and he found himself huddled in the doorway to the Great Hall.
Three boys quivered at the foot of the dais. They were grubby and thin and sharp as stone. Not one of them, not even the youngest, who must have been the same age as the secret boys in the wings, lowered his eyes when the king stood in front of them.
Michael and Raphael stood like dark pillars on either side of the throne in their star-flecked robes.
"Hedgewitches," Michael said, answering some question that Dean was too late to hear.
"I'm not a hedgewitch," the tallest boy sniped. "I'm a Wizard."
Raphael tried to stifle a laugh. He was fourteen, so they let him into these secret meetings, but Dean wouldn't have laughed at all.
"I am," the boy insisted. "My great-great-great-grandfather was Joshua Argenet."
Dean recognized the name, but only vaguely. There was a large green book on the second shelf with the name inscribed in the spine. Bobby never mentioned it during their studies, so he and Cas had taken it down one day to see what was in it. Without even reading a single word, he knew why the book wasn't touched. Joshua was a gardener. The book had nothing but spells and tips for crop cultivation.
"Try one," Dean had told him, but Cas crinkled his brow and shook his head and reached for the next volume on minor illusions, leaving Dean to reshelve Joshua's book on his own.
Cas had that same disappointed frown on his face now, as they watched the tall boy.
"It's my birthright," he insisted, getting angrier with each suppressed snort from Raphael.
"Even if your claim were true, the bloodline only extends one generation away. Otherwise, there would be hundreds of Wizards running around with magic," Raphael scoffed with a smug little smile on his face.
Michael did not look nearly as pleased, but he nodded in agreement. "Even if you believe you have a legitimate claim, the proper procedure is to petition the High Wizard. Access to the castle Sanctuary is strictly forbidden to outsiders."
The boy put on a sneer to match Raphael's. "As if anyone would give me a fair hearing. You're all just―"
One of the younger ones grabbed his arm with terrified urgency, stopping something truly offensive from coming out of his mouth. Dean regarded the silent exchange between the two boys, and knew the younger had won when the taller boy clenched his jaw in silence.
"Our papa is a farmer in Great Bend," the third boy piped up. "The river's dried up and the crops are dying. If we had just a little magic, we could bring back the rain."
Dean had heard people talking about the drought near the southern border, but he hadn't realized what it meant to the people living there.
"He should have asked father," Castiel whispered from next to him. His friend still looked upset, so Dean looped an arm around his shoulders and held him close.
"The drought is unfortunate," his father said, "but grain has been sent from the Northern provinces."
"It's not enough!" the first boy protested, cheeks aflame and eyes ringed with red. "The oxen are dying and we won't have enough seed left to plant next season and you're not helping! Everything around here is green and alive so you don't care―"
"Enough!" John roared and rose to his feet, towering and terrifying. Castiel clutched at Dean's knee, holding them both in place, watching stunned. "You have violated my rule of law, you have trespassed onto forbidden lands, and you have attempted to tamper with the one rule that holds this world in balance. From henceforth, you will be indentured to the Lower Guard and maybe you will learn some discipline."
The youngest boy started crying while the oldest screamed and the third tried to calm them both, even as they were led away.
Dean trembled. It took a lot to make the king lose his composure.
He waited for the door to close behind the Wizards before leaving the safety of his alcove. Castiel grabbed at his arm, trying to stop him, but he shook his friend off. He knew without looking that the Wizard would follow him into the open like his own little protector. They took the long way along the edge of the dais, down the steps, and back around to end up facing his father. The king didn't seem surprised to see Dean, but he lifted an eyebrow at Castiel.
"My Lord," Dean started tentatively.
"Dean," his father sighed.
"When it doesn't rain here for a long time, Michael makes it rain."
John watched, curious as to why his son had chosen this moment to reveal himself.
"Why can't he do that for Great Bend?"
Instead of answering, John turned to the other, silent boy before him. "Do you know why, Castiel?"
Dean frowned and turned to his friend. Castiel had been wilting slowly ever since he was forced out of hiding, but at the curious look, he straightened and took a deep breath. "Yes?" He winced at the uncertainty in his voice. "I do," he tried again.
"Well go on," the King prompted.
"Weather magic takes a lot of time and power," he explained. Even Gabriel couldn't make any real clouds yet, but he didn't add that detail. "In dry climates like Great Bend, the rain would stop as soon as they left, so to have enough rain to grow crops, they need to stay in the area for the entire growing season. The northern regions can grow enough to feed the entire kingdom, so they focus their time there. "
Michael, Raphael, Anna, and even Gabriel were always busy. Cas rarely got to see his father outside of court. When they weren't taking care of one matter or another, they spent their time going all over the world to bring back books and scrolls that might help Sam. The only reason Cas had any time to spend with Dean was because his magic wasn't strong enough yet, and both of them were still learning to read.
Castiel looked at his friend with trepidation, fingers twining together unconsciously. Dean deflated and stood contritely before him and before his father. How could he fault them when they were trying to save Sam?
Later, under the cover of night, Dean snuck out of his bedroom and up the spindly Wizard's Tower. Careful not to wake Gabriel, he tugged Castiel from his bed to sit on the narrow steps outside their chambers.
"Cas, when you're the Royal Wizard," Dean said earnestly, "You have to have a big family, big enough to help everybody."
To the other seven-year-old, this was perfectly sound reasoning. They clasped their hands together in solemn agreement and fell asleep in the stairwell.
Age 8
The skittish black foal stumbled across the stall to bump her nose against the wooden slats.
"Hi!" Dean said and shoved a hand through the planks, but the horse backed away and shrank into the protective hollow of her mother's side before he could touch her coat. The young Prince was crushed. He had waited for his father's mare to foal for nearly a year now. Impala was going to be his first horse. She was sleek, strong, and beautiful, just like his father's horse.
"One day," the king had said when he'd first shown her to Dean, "she will carry you into battle, but more important than that, she'll carry you home."
A year ago, Michael and John had ridden out with two thousand men when the Islands attacked Thousand Port. They returned three months later, tired and tautly strung, but victorious. A prisoner came with them, a boy only a year or two older than Dean.
"Lady Moseley will take him as her ward," John explained. The boy was gone two days later. After that, Dean's routine changed. While Dean used to have lessons with Bobby before noon and the rest of his days free to tag along with Cas' research or play with Sam, he now had to sit through general councils with his father and take up weapons lessons with the armsmaster.
Once Impala could bear his weight, he would have riding lessons as well. Dean didn't mind the work. He liked the tingly, excited feeling he got after lessons with Rufus and he couldn't wait to ride beside his father instead of being stuck sharing a saddle with one of the knights, but he missed his friends and felt useless when it came to helping Sam.
For the last two months, Dean had to climb the Wizard's tower every morning at dawn with a tray laden with food enough for two. Otherwise, Cas would skip breakfast and he wouldn't see his best friend until after well supper when the Wizards would make a report on the day's progress. Even though the older Wizards each had their individual duties to attend to, they found time to research, plan, and procure documents. But Sam was Dean's flesh and blood - and more importantly than that, Sam was Dean's brother. He should be the one pilfering books from the Blue Library or picking the brains of the scholars from the southern coast.
Mary had tried to explain it to him once. "I know you don't think you're doing enough for your brother, but what you do is just as important as anything Anna or Raphael has done."
"How?"
"Look there." Mary drew Dean close and pointed at a lone ant that was tentatively circling a lost bread crumb sitting on the window sill. "Do you see that ant?"
Dean nodded and moved to flick it out of the window before his mother stopped him.
"That ant," Mary said firmly, holding Dean's hand, "is just one of hundreds of ants living in its colony. Its job is to go out into the world and find food. There are drone ants whose job it is to make new baby ants. There are soldier ants that give their lives fighting off bigger, stronger insects. And there is a queen who is the very heart of the colony. Which do you think is the most important?"
Dean wrinkled his nose and thought what his mother would want him to answer. His first impulse was to indicate the Queen. After all, he and Sammy and the King all loved Mary the most, but this was a lesson which usually meant there was a moral at the end of the story. "All of them?" he guessed.
"Why?" she said gently.
"The soldiers because they defend the kingdom and make sure everyone's safe. The workers because they find the food so no one goes hungry. The drones because they keep the kingdom going after the old ants have died. And the queen because there wouldn't be a colony without her," he rattled off.
"Hm," she said and seemed to give it some thought. "That seems about right. Now what about in our kingdom? Whose job is the most important? The king? The queen?" She pointed at herself with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile that made Dean laugh. "The Wizards?" She paused and Dean bit his lip. He wanted to blurt out yes, that they were doing everything, but he was starting to understand what his mother was trying to tell him. "Or my big, strong Bear?" At the use of his childhood nickname, she dug her fingers into his ribs until he was shrieking with laughter, any trepidation forgotten in the sensation and the joy of his mother's glowing presence.
After he'd exhausted his lungs and collapsed in his mother's arms like a baby, he calmed and started to think. The initial worry wormed its way back into his thoughts. It was true that he didn't do anything. He was getting ready to be king, which needed a little bit of every ant. The king made sure everyone was safe, no one went hungry, and held all the lords together as one. But Dean wasn't king yet. John was. Dean didn't want to have to wait countless years before he could help.
Mary seemed to sense the disquiet in her son because she hauled him into her lap and wrapped her arms around his waist even though he was far too old to be coddled like this. "What's going on in your head?" she said.
"I want to do more," Dean admitted quietly.
She sighed over the top of his head. "Then you shall."
Dean started in surprise and twisted to look his mother in the face. She smiled down at him like an angel with her golden hair framed in sunlight from the open window. He found himself smiling back, misery lightened by her very presence.
"You're going to have two new jobs. First, I'm going to speak with Master Singer and have him work with Michael or Raphael to devise lessons on magic history and theory."
Dean groaned. More useless lessons were hardly what he'd count as important work.
"You said you wanted to help Sam and you can't help him if you don't understand what the problem is in the first place."
Dean nodded grudgingly then asked, "And what's my second job?"
"Your second job is to make sure Castiel doesn't go gray by the time he's eleven."
It was scary how easy it was to imagine Cas bent over and wrinkled by his next birthday. More than once he'd heard Lady Missouri sigh and call Cas an "old soul." Dean didn't know much about souls, but he knew that Cas acted like he was older than his father sometimes.
"I swear if that boy still had his mother..." Mary sighed and shook her head before fixing Dean with a serious stare. "Now I know Anna tries her best to get him to eat and sleep, but it'll be your job to make sure he has some time to relax as well, that he doesn't bury himself so deep in those books that he forgets what the rest of the world looks like."
"I will," Dean agreed quickly. "I can do that."
The next day, Dean excused himself early from dinner and ran up the Wizard's Tower for the second time that day. He had a job to do and he wasn't waiting another moment to do it. When Dean said, "Come on! I want to show you something," he was fully prepared to pick up the Wizard and carry him down the steps if he had to. Luckily, Cas just gave him a curious look, placed a marker in the big tome at his feet, snuffed out the smelly candles burning around the circle drawn on the floor, tucked some pouches into his sleeves, and followed him down the stairs.
"Oh," Cas breathed and hung between two of the posts. "She's beautiful."
Dean beamed proudly at the filly in the training field from his spot standing atop the second beam. "She is! She doesn't like me though."
"Really?" Cas said and looked offended on Dean's behalf.
"Come up," Dean said and tugged on the collar of Cas' robe until the Wizard climbed up next to him. "Watch."
Dean whistled and called Impala's name and every other trick he'd learned from the stable boys, but the most he got from the horse was a flick of her tale in his general direction. "See?"
Castiel frowned, nose wrinkling up before he said solemnly, "You're doing it wrong. Let me try."
He scrunched up his entire face in concentration and Dean waited, enraptured, waiting to see what would happen.
"Come here, Impala," Cas commanded lowly.
"She didn't even hear you," Dean started to say, but silenced himself as the filly's ears perked up and she swung her head slowly towards them. His breath caught in his chest as he watched in amazement as the horse trotted straight at them and proceeded to stick her nose right in Castiel's outstretched hand.
"You used magic!" Dean said, half accusatory, half impressed.
"Yes," Cas nodded. "It's an ancient Wizards' secret, passed down from generation to generation. I can show you if you want."
"I can't do magic," Dean grumbled, and sulkily dropped his chin to the top rung of the fence, refusing to look at his friend or his traitorous horse.
"You can do this one," Cas said, touching Dean on the shoulder to get his attention back. "I promise."
Dean grudgingly turned his head to look as Cas reached slowly into his sleeve, took a deep breath, zeroing his gaze at Dean's eyes, and drew out an apple. Impala immediately bit into the fruit and pranced away with her prize between her teeth, tail swaying high in the wind.
Cas smiled sheepishly up at Dean who couldn't decide whether to laugh or feel cheated. In the end, he settled on a third option. "That was your apple! You were supposed to eat that for breakfast!"
"I know," Cas admitted. "But Anna brings me breakfast most mornings, too, so I have enough to eat."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean asked, a little hurt that Cas had been keeping a secret.
Cas shrugged and stuck his legs through the next beam up, swinging them loosely as he sagged into the seat. "I didn't want you to stop coming." He looked down at the ground and mumbled, "I would miss you."
"Well," Dean said gruffly. "I guess I'd miss you too."
Cas looked up with wide eyes. "You're not mad?"
"You still should have told me," Dean shot back with a forced frown on his face. "I could have been eating twice as much breakfast all this time."
Cas grinned his biggest smile, the one that Dean considered ihis/i smile, reserved for best friends only. "I wouldn't want you to get too fat to sit on your new horse."
"Says the one who's been eating two breakfasts every morning," Dean accused shrilly.
"I have not. Gabriel usually eats it."
"Oh," Dean considered, thinking of the other Wizard's chubby cheeks and perpetually sticky fingers. "That explains a lot."
"Will you keep coming?" Cas asked after a while.
"Yes," Dean said and clambered onto the beam next to the Wizard, pressing their shoulders together. "It's my job."
Age 10
Sam was six when they found the old abandoned mill. It was at the edge of the capital, far beyond the walls that held the city proper. Its broken waterwheel sat crookedly in the jagged scar of land that once held a flowing stream.
They weren't supposed to be there, of course. Cas should be studying Sam's curse, which meant holding his hands and trying to feel out the shape of the Mark inside him. That was exactly what they had been doing when Dean had showed up on his filly. It was the first day that the horsemaster had let him ride Impala out of the yard and his first stop was the stoop outside the Wizard's tower. Sam fell in love with the horse in the same way he loved anything new. Cas wasn't as enthusiastic, but it had been days since he'd been able to drag Cas away from his books, and there was nothing to do but ride out the back gate with Sam at the front, clinging to the pommel, and Castiel in the back clinging to Dean.
Dean, however, was ecstatic. Cas just didn't know how wonderful it was to ride a horse, the freedom of wind blowing through his hair, the ability to go anywhere, anytime. One day he'd learn to zap place to place like his siblings could, but for now he was just as land-bound as the rest of them.
And how could he leave Sam cooped up in the castle when he was out riding through the countryside?
Dean laughed as Castiel's grip on his ribs tightened when he pushed Impala into a full gallop. Sam was squealing with glee, his laughs coming in bursts as the horse came crashing down with each step. Still, he made sure to keep his elbows around his brother's waist in case his little hands came off the pommel.
Sam's hair was all over his face, tickling his nose and making his eyes water, and Cas' bony chin was digging painfully into the back of his shoulder, but there, on that horse, was one of the happiest moments of his life.
They rode for an hour through the woods outside the sprawling town that had grown around the capital walls before Sam grew tired and they headed back. Dean decided to take a new route, for a little more excitement, and they'd ended up coming out of the forest at the old mill.
"Hey, let's go in. Impala could use a break," Dean suggested, sliding out from between the other two boys. Castiel half-slid, half-fell out of the saddle while Dean lifted his arms to help Sam off.
"It might not be safe," Cas said as he eyed the structure dubiously.
The worn wooden beams and the flaking paint didn't inspire much confidence.
"Sammy, you keep an eye on Impala. I'll go check it out," Dean said, leaving his brother to play with the filly's waving tail.
"Dean!" Castiel called after him but Dean was already leaping across the abandoned wheelbarrow that lay out front and reaching for the door.
A layer of fine dust rose up to clog his lungs as he walked in, but once his coughing fit passed, he looked around and gaped in wonder. Someone had painted an entire wall with images of dragons and unicorns and angels, all manner of magical creatures. It reminded Dean of the fairy tale books that littered Sam's old nursery, except all the creatures were together like all the stories clashed together into one magnificent world.
"Sam! Cas! You have to see this!" he yelled through the open doorway.
When they came in, Sam clinging to Cas' hand, even the somber little Wizard seemed in awe. "It's beautiful," he breathed, coughing slightly at the dust. Sam, however, seemed more interested in clambering over the great grinding stone and machinery that was still attached to the ruined waterwheel.
Dean wouldn't say it, because only girls found things beautiful, but silently, he sort of agreed.
Age 11
A light bobbed through the darkness. It floated, green and ethereal like stories of will-o'-the-wisps, but Dean wasn't standing in the midst of a foggy wood. He was indoors, halfway down the western corridor where tapestries covered the windows and the torches were unlit.
"Dean!" Castiel's voice called excitedly. His round face emerged into the eerie glow of the sphere.
"What is that?" Dean demanded as he drifted closer, transfixed by the green light.
"It's a mage light," Castiel said. "You can touch it."
The light tingled when Dean swiped his fingers through the edges and if he thrust his hand into the center, it felt like a thousand firebugs were crawling over his skin. He laughed and waved his hand through its center, watching the glow creep along his fingers until it reached his knuckles.
"You made this?" Dean asked, grinning up at his friend.
"Yes," Castiel whispered proudly.
"You should make one in Sammy's room. He doesn't like the candles very much and Isaac always has to get him the sweet wood to burn in the fireplace."
Castiel's face fell. "Oh. I can't leave it somewhere. I have to be there to keep it going."
"That's still really amazing!" Dean amended hastily. "We can sneak out into the woods and scare Rufus when he's out hunting!"
"Dean," Castiel chastised. "He'll shoot us."
Dean chewed on his lip, thinking of ways to get around that snag in his plans. "Maybe we should do it to Gabriel instead."
"Gabriel can make ten mage lights at once!"
"Wow," Dean's eyes widened.
"And he can make it look like a real fire. He was going to pretend the kitchen was on fire."
"But the kitchen was on fire!" Dean scowled.
"Yes," Cas ducked his head and the mage light disappeared when he dropped his hands. "But that wasn't Gabriel."
They both stood quietly in the dark, waiting for their eyes to adjust. The fire had killed one of the kitchen boys and two dogs. Dean hadn't been there, but Cas had seen the boy when Raphael tried to tend to his wounds. A loud snuffle ripped through the air.
"Cas?" Dean whispered, feeling out to clutch onto his friend's sleeve.
"I'm fine," Cas whispered back.
"Come on," Dean prodded the Wizard in the side. "Let's go show Sam."
"Yes," Cas said, but Dean knew he was still upset.
"And then we can all go scare Bobby," he decided. That should cheer them all up.
Age 13
Dean knew this day would come, but it hadn't for so long that he'd almost forgotten. There was always another normal week, another normal day, another normal hour when a nameless messenger popped his bubble.
Lucifer had been spotted crossing the Narrow Strait back to the continent. The three days it took to make final arrangements had a facade of normalcy. Dean woke at the same time, would begin lessons at the same time, would eat at the same time. Yet it felt like time had lost its bearing. The minutes would drag on and on then catch up all at once.
In one fell swoop, he was going to lose his mother, his brother, and his best friend. They were leaving in less than a day with Michael, Anna, and Gabriel. All the Wizards had become a constant presence in his life. Not just Cas, who had insinuated himself into Dean's very perception of reality, but Anna with her steady hand and ferocious temper, Gabriel with his ability to take even the darkest fears and turn them into light and laughter. Raphael would be the only one to stay behind: the interim Royal Wizard at only twenty-two.
On the last day, Dean couldn't focus on a single thing past the giddy hope that had been building in his head as he schemed through the night. Rufus had him on his backside for the twentieth time that day before he'd thrown down his sword and dismissed the prince in disgust. Dean didn't bother changing or even taking off his leather padding before he ran through the Wizard's great room and straight through Castiel's door.
"You know how to teleport!" he said triumphantly, out of breath after running up the spiral steps.
Castiel startled, his clothing half-packed into his lone pack. "Yes," he said and narrowed his eyes. "Gabriel told you." At thirteen, he was just as serious as his father, burdened since the age of four with the salvation of the youngest prince.
"Yes, Gabriel had to tell me!" Dean was pissed. "You can visit! You can bring Sam! Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you would ask me to do this," Castiel returned to packing, far too calm for Dean's level of agitation. "It would not be safe for Sam to return."
"You don't have to bring him here. You can take him to the old mill and no one would have to know." The abandoned mill was their secret spot away from everything, where courtiers and tutors and parents couldn't find them.
"Dean, you don't think Lucifer will have the entire capital watched, just waiting for Sam to become homesick or for you to become nostalgic? It isn't safe!" Castiel fixed him with that terrible glare, unmitigated by his otherwise childish face.
"Then we'll go outside the capital. You can put up wards in the forest. And the wolves can sniff out any danger, right?"
Castiel set down the stockings he had been folding and took two steps towards Dean until they would be practically nose to nose if Cas were taller. Dean could see every wrinkle in his eyelids as the shorter boy squinted up at him. "Do you truly think that if there was a way for Sam to be near his home, my father, my brothers and my sister, your parents, none of them would have tried it? You're being needlessly reckless."
"Needlessly―" Dean blustered. "Do you even care that we're never going to see each other again?"
Castiel's eyes shuttered immediately, expression going carefully blank. "We will see each other once a year as you well know. Raphael will bring you and your father to our location on Sam's birthday. And we will be back once the curse is broken."
Dean's heart sank. He hadn't meant to hurt Cas, to imply that he would never find a way to undo Lucifer's mark. Still, it could take years. Cas was nowhere near as strong as his uncle and had just starting to master intermediate level magic. Once a year, one day out of three hundred and sixty-five was a pittance when compared to seeing each other every day. It was a drought after eight years of torrential rains. "That's not enough," Dean argued. "How can you say that's enough? Do you even care?"
He didn't expect tears, nor did he expect rage. Castiel was always calmer, quieter, but still Dean didn't expect his best friend who he wasn't going to see again for a long, long time to act like nothing was wrong and pick up his ugly gray stockings and start to fold them again. "When I break the curse," Castiel said tersely, "we can all come back. Then, we can go anywhere we want. The faster that happens, the better. I'm happy we're leaving. I'll be able to focus, to concentrate on making it all better."
Something snapped inside Dean and he felt everything at once as all the emotions that Cas seemed to lack flooded into him. He was angry and miserable and devastated and had to turn away before Cas could see the tears in his eyes. If Cas didn't care, then Dean wouldn't either. Besides, he still had his brother and mother to worry about. He didn't need to miss anyone else, especially someone who wouldn't miss him.
Without glancing back, Dean fled the room to find Sam. He had one last day and he wasn't wasting it on some ungrateful Wizard.
