The last chapter ended where Hans Christian Andersen ended his story. But we're moving on into the next phase of this story, because it's not done yet. HCA had Gerda and Kay flee the Snow Queen and live happily ever after, but there's a long way for Dean to go before he sleeps.

Chapter Six: To the Rescue

Preparations for the trip south started out much differently than Sam's initial trip to the north all those months ago. For one thing, they could actually afford provisions, bed rolls, and horses. Since Anna had sent them home with bolts of fine fabric, Bobby now had fine new suits as well as Dean and Sam, and of course Sam had stolen some of Castiel's finest robes to help keep them warm on the roads.

They left in the morning when the frost was still clinging to the ground. Dean leaned down and scooped up a handful from one of the bushes outside the door, thinking of Castiel and his cold, lonely castle. It was just like the frost, a coating over a shrub, but still full of life and thriving on the inside. Dean decided that after he had his dad back, he was going to go back to the north, find Castiel, and make him talk to him. They could work it out. They could work everything out.

Finding King Lucifer's lands was a simple matter, but it took several weeks to reach him. Bobby was not used to sleeping in hotels, so Dean made a few lean-to's on the road a few nights, though one night they nearly were robbed, which made Bobby appreciate the hotels a little more.

Once they crossed into Lucifer's territory, they began to question how to begin their search for Dean's father. It was clear they were looking for a lord called Alastair, but beyond that, Dean didn't have many clues. Still, they asked around and found Alistair's lands and took up a small house in the town.

Sam was unpacking in his room when he found Evergreen's feather and remembered how the great hawk had helped him out when he was looking for Dean. He ran the feather over his fingers and tickled his chin with it, thinking about how everything had happened.

And then there was a strange pecking at the window and he found the very being he had just thought of sitting there, looking at him.

"Evergreen!" He unlatched the window and stood back so the hawk could hop inside. His exclamation brought both Dean and Bobby from the other rooms, and they stared at the bird in awe. "Bobby, Dean, this is Evergreen, who I told you about."

Bobby and Dean glanced at each other, then gave slight bows to the bird.

"Thank you for the help you gave my boy," Bobby said.

"Yeah," Dean echoed. "You really helped Sammy out."

Evergreen inclined his head ever so slightly. "Sam was thinking of me. He is turning in his favor now. What assistance can I offer?"

Sam's eyes widened, and he realized what he had done. "Evergreen, King Frost told Dean that some years ago, Dean's father was made a slave by the lord of these lands. Do you know anything about this?"

"How long ago would this have been?"

"Ten years past," Bobby supplied.

"Very well," Evergreen said, "I will go around and see what gossip I can find. These lands are strange to me, so I know as much as you do now."

The great bird did not say goodbye before it flew out the window, leaving the humans inside to gape at the emptiness where it had been.

"Wow," Dean said.

"You said he was big, but…" Bobby's awe was palpable.

Sam laughed. "I told you he flew me on his back!"

"Yeah, but…" Dean shrugged.

They waited for two days for Evergreen to come back to them, and in that time, they were not idle themselves. They soon had amassed a great amount of information about Lord Alistair and his doings, plus they had traded some goods for the currency of the land and paid for the house for the month, bought a few provisions, and tried to formulate a plan.

When Evergreen returned to them, they were feeling restless and useless so they welcomed the hawk happily.

"The one called John Winchester is kept by Alistair as a slave. He has proven difficult to train or keep, so it is said that Alistair put him into an enchanted sleep below his castle."

Dean leaned forward. "So how do we free him from his service? Do you know how much he owes or…whatever?"

"I am sorry, Dean Winchester, but Alistair would not let your father go for money. He keeps John in a cage, but claims that he likes him too well to release him, though he does nothing due to his enchanted sleep."

"There must be a way to release him," Dean said.

Evergreen shook out his feathers. "I am sure that there is. I wish you luck in finding out how. Sam, my debt to you is paid."

Sam nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Evergreen."

Evergreen moved to the window. "Thank you, Sam, for the help you rendered my children. Good luck!"

"Well, he's just a barrel of laughs," Bobby groused when the hawk had gone.

"Hey, he gave us more than Dean's boyfriend," Sam snapped back.

Dean threw his hands into the air. "You know what, Sammy? I've had enough of you talking about Castiel like that! He was good to me! He cared for me. God forbid someone should actually do anything good for me!"

Sam slammed down the book he'd been holding. "What about me? What about my father? Why do you need more family than us? We're your family and we care for you! We are good to you!"

"Yeah, says the guy who's going off to University without a thought to either me or Bobby!"

Bobby held up his hands and got between the two boys. "That's enough, kids. Sam, Dean can love Castiel and have it not separate him from you. Dean, Sam can go to University and still be a part of the family."

"No!" both boys shouted at once, making Bobby wince.

"He must still be possessed by King Frost's spell, that's the only explanation I can find for his behavior!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause it can't be that I actually liked the guy or anything."

"Papa!" Sam turned to Bobby. "Papa, please! You must see that Dean has to still be bewitched by Castiel! It's the only explanation!"

Bobby sighed. "I'm sorry, Sam, but I think you're projecting just a bit here, son. I have told you time and again that Dean knows his own mind."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not saying he doesn't know his mind, I'm saying he's under an enchantment! The story says that once you're kissed by the first frost of winter, you're the Frost King's consort. There doesn't say anything about you ever not being his consort." Sam took a deep breath. "Papa, Dean has been bewitched by King Frost and it won't end!"

Dean sat down and cracked open a bottle of ale. "Listen to me, Sammy. I remember what it was like to be under an enchantment. It was like I was trying to move underwater or something. Nothing was clear, and I couldn't think of anything for very long before I started thinking of Castiel again. I'm no longer under an enchantment, I remember the exact moment it broke. Can you just back off?"

Sam threw himself into a chair and huffed out a breath as he crossed his arms over his chest. "And me going to the university won't change anything. I'm still going to be here for you guys."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, because everyone in Kiminski Village is going to need a lawyer. Like, Ellen is going to hire you to write a will for her."

Bobby pulled a chair up to the little table and sat down between the boys at the round table. "Dean, I think there is a very real possibility that once you get your dad back, you'll want to go off with him. And Sam, I think you need to start thinking about that and maybe stop worrying about King Frost."

Sam and Dean both scowled at each other for the remainder of the evening. That night, Dean was happy that he had his own room so he could think over everything Sam and Bobby had said. By the time morning came, he was exhausted, hadn't slept a wink, and had only come to a few conclusions.

One: he was definitely no longer under an enchantment.

Two: he really couldn't get in the way of Sam going to university because—

Three: he'd totally go with his dad once he freed him.

How he was going to free his father was still beyond him, but he had to admit that if John nodded his head in a direction and said, "Let's go, son," he'd probably just follow along behind him.

Dean threw his pillow across the room and started getting dressed for the day. As he was buttoning his waistcoat, he amended his thinking because he was sure of one thing: once he managed to rescue his dad, he was going to head straight to Castiel's palace, no matter how long it took him to get there, and he was going to have it out with the king.

Besides, Sam was right. He was the Frost King's consort…wasn't he? That was what the legend said, and Castiel said he was beholden to the legends for as long as people believed them. But did that still hold since Dean was no longer enchanted, as per point one?

His musings were cut off by a knock at the door. He made his way into the hall and met up with Bobby and Sam, both looking just as surprised as he felt. Bobby opened the door, and they found a set of guards there wearing the livery of Lord Alistair with a summons for Dean.

They were taken in a carriage to the small castle-like mansion of the lord. There they were greeted in the hall by the selfsame man who was smiling, his teeth sharp at the corners like some sort of wolf.

"And here is Dean Winchester," he drawled. "Delivered to me like a sweet little gift."

He approached Dean and reached out a hand, stroking over his face, caressing down his neck.

"What the hell?" Dean cried, jerking sharply away from Lord Alistair.

"Dean, Dean," Alistair lamented, shaking his head. "I've been waiting for you for so very long, and here you are!"

His accent and word cadence were odd, almost like he was speaking in the back of his throat and between his teeth at the same time.

"Yeah, here I am," Dean agreed. "How can I get you to release my father?"

"Your father," Alistair echoed. "Your father. Daddy Winchester."

"Hey, could you maybe try to be a little creepier?" Bobby growled. "'Cause I ain't freaked out enough yet."

Alistair finally turned his attention away from intently studying Dean's face and turned to Bobby. "Oh, I can make you feel a lot worse, Mr. Singer." He stalked towards Bobby, his movements methodical as a predator, and Dean moved quickly to get between them. Alistair already had John, Dean couldn't stand it if he got Bobby as well. "Ah, now what's this, Dean-O?" Alistair once again reached out his hand to stroke Dean's cheek. This time, Dean flinched, but stayed still. "Are you compliant now? But ah, you know how to get your way, don't you my boy?"

Dean closed his eyes against the close scrutiny he was getting, but let Alistair touch his cheeks, run his thumb over his lips, and stroke his eyelids. Bobby was right, Alistair was fucking creepy. "How do I get my dad back, Lord Alistair?"

Dean opened his eyes to find Alistair smiling at him, and oddly, him smiling was even worse. "You can take his place."

Dean's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say no, but Sam was there to do it for him.

"No way, John wouldn't want Dean to do that for him!"

Alistair turned his attention now to Sam, and both Bobby and Dean got between them.

"Is that right, Sammy?" Alistair mocked. "John wouldn't want Dean to sacrifice himself? Are you sure 'bout that? Maybe wanna…ask him yourself? I can…arrange it."

Dean stood forward just when Bobby pushed Sam back, bringing Alistair's attention back to him. "He's just beautiful, Dean. I can see why you want to keep him for yourself."

"He's my brother, you sick fuck!" Dean spat.

"But not all the way, is he? He's not really your blood." Alistair gave that same sickly smile. "He's not really yours."

Bobby patted Dean on the shoulder. "He's not going to let him go, son. We should go."

"Oh, I never said I wasn't going to let him go. I told you what the price was. Whaddaya say, Dean-O? Care to trade your life for Daddy's?"

Bobby grabbed Dean's shoulder. "Come on, Son. He's not going to do it. Let's go."

Dean turned to follow Bobby, but Alistair's taunts followed him through the hall. "Yes, go, go, little Dean-O. Can't save Daddy. Couldn't save Mummy."

Bobby's hand on his wrist was the only thing that kept him moving. He shook on the way back to the little house, and Bobby led him to the bedroom and tucked him in like he was a child. He fell asleep almost immediately, not sleeping the night before and the anxiety of the last hour working against him. He could hardly stay awake. He dreamed about blue eyes, soft lips, a kind smile, and a frozen palace that was warm and comforting, no matter how cold and harsh it looked on the outside.

In the middle of the night, he awoke from a fevered dream, something itching at the back of his brain. He desperately scrabbled for Castiel's letter, even though he had practically memorized the whole thing. A strange plan was formulating in his brain, but he was pretty sure he had figured out what to do.