One month later…
Hunting was a well established sport in Elysium and Dean and Sam were two of the best. It came with their duties and privileges: in exchange for their Royalty, they hunted down monsters and beasts alike to keep their citizens safe. Sometimes, like today, they hunted just for the sport of it. With a fresh kill of a wyvern roasting on the fire, the two men had camped for the evening in the middle of the vast forest called Joshua. As one polished armour, the other finished carving up the wyvern. Neither looked at one another for the longest of times, seeming more content to ignore each other than deal with the tension between them.
But eventually, the youngest sat down heavily in front of his brother and glared at him.
"You still look like hell."
"I've felt worse." Dean continued to polish his armour, more for something to do than actual need, and looked up at Sam. He ignored the plate of meat set down in front of him. "You look like…."
"I'm spending all my time worried about you. Of course I look worse." Sam took a seat across from him in the field tent. "It's not just me who's worried, Dean. People are talking. Even the Angels are talking."
"Let them. I spent a month in that place." Dean stared at his polishing cloth, fingers clenching so tight that he could feel the fabric ripping. "But I… I'm fine."
"You're not fine." Sam reached out and took the cloth from him. "You've got servants to do that for you."
"I like to keep my hands busy."
"And you've been sleeping with your guards on."
"How'd you know that?"
"I hear things," Sam said with a grin.
"Knew I should have picked a quieter peasant girl," Dean muttered. "Look, Sam, if I was feeling strange, I'd let you know but I'm fine. Really."
"Are you sure?" Sam demanded and saw his brother shrug.
"Good as I can be."
Shooting him a distrusting glance, Sam turned himself around and picked up the bow and arrow he'd been using before. "I think we should come out and hunt more often," he said to change the conversation
"This playing the peasant thing does something for you?" Dean asked. Since coming to the forest he'd lost his Royal accent for something more basic and comfortable, and it was comforting to hear. Since losing their parents years ago, he was all Sam had and to hear him at least sounding relaxed was a relief.
"A bit. Makes me feel like we're normal."
"Yeah well, we're not. I'm used to it, you should be too," Dean snapped irritably.
Sam chose to ignore that. "I mean away from the royal guards, the garrisons."
"Away from the Host is enough to make any prince happy." He suddenly lifted his head. "Right, Michael?"
Sam turned to see two white horses in matching tack gliding through the brush. The two men riding, one fair and one dark, rode with the usual casual grace of angels but the stern look Dean was shot was all bodyguard. Michael took his duties seriously and Dean's disobedience in the first place had been what landed him on the torturer's table. Michael didn't seem to like Dean all that much but only because of their father was he so willing to stay as an advisor. The other man was Lucifer, who had appointed himself as the other advisor. A man Sam didn't trust. There was something dark and seductively twisted about him.
Lucifer and Michael rode together but it was the quiet man riding behind them that caught Dean's attention. He recognized him as the one who pulled him away from Alastair before the dragon could complete a fatal bite. He was the reason Dean was free and alive today.
But looking at Michael's stern face he knew his bodyguard was taking the matter of Dean's health seriously. It didn't matter who had saved Dean's life in the end. What mattered was making people believe that nothing had changed.
"So you're almost back to normal," Lucifer said for them all as he reined in beside Sam. He gestured to the man riding just behind him."I'm sure you both remember Castiel."
"Owe him my life," Dean said with a nod. "Thanks again."
"Of course." Castiel dismounted and bowed to him. Dean eyed him critically. He liked to think he could read people. When Castiel had saved him there had been something rebellious about him. Something less guarded in the heat of battle. Now he stood there, like a robotic soldier.
He wondered which Castiel was the real one.
"The people are growing restless, sire," Lucifer said. "This is your fourth week out here. You're hiding behind your hunter duties. Still they want to know that you're ready to take the throne in four months time."
"And if I don't want it?"
Michael straightened. "You don't have a choice, Dean."
His curt scolding made the younger man flinch. "Yeah, I'm understanding that."
"We were just talking about this. So what do we do?" Sam asked.
"We need to prove that I'm not dead or lying in some corner, crying like a child?" Dean demanded as he walked towards his black horse. The mare tossed her head up and down and he patted her neck. "Easy, baby, easy."
"Something to prove to the masses that you're not about to give it all up and become a hermit," Lucifer said, leaning forward. Sam shuddered at his closeness and stepped away from him.
"Dean, you don't have to do this if you don't want to," he offered but his brother was already turning towards them.
"Fine. Throw a ball."
"A ball?" Sam and Castiel both said at the same time.
"An open ball. A big massive party." Dean drew his dagger and sword out of their scabbards and turned to them, resting on his sword a little. "That should be fun, right?"
Sam heard the bitterness in his voice.
"Open it up to any citizen who can afford to come. Celebrate Dean's return," Michael wheedled. Lucifer nodded eagerly and Castiel wondered at the sly grin on his face.
"Sire, I…" All eyes turned to him and Castiel tensed his jaw, determined not to be cowed. "Wouldn't your best resources be spent fighting the Abaddon demons? Not a ball?"
Michael gave him an incredulous look but Dean was grinning. "You think?"
"I mean, it just makes more sense."
"We are going to war with them. Our way." He looked at Michael. "Invite an emissary. During the ball, we'll take one of them hostage for a time. And find out just how many of them are infiltrating the Borderlands."
"Not a bad idea," Sam muttered.
"If his opinion mattered, which it doesn't," Lucifer said with a murderous look at Castiel, "when should this take place?"
"Give them a fortnight," Sam said and Dean nodded, patting his mare's neck.
"And Lucifer? His opinion now does matter."
"He's of low birth," Lucifer snarled, eyes jealous of Castiel already. Dean winked at Sam, loving how irritated the bodyguard was, and gestured to the still silent Castiel.
"And he's becoming part of the Royal Guard. We need new blood, I think. All of you guarded my father. He'll guard me."
"But that's Michael's position," Lucifer argued and Dean shot him an annoyed scowl.
"And he'll now take care of the rest of you. Castiel?"
"Sire?"
"You're part of the Royal Guard now, Castiel." Dean nodded. "So on your knees."
He blinked, instantly uncomfortable with all the attention suddenly on him. "Sire?"
"I'm going to knight you." Dean looked at his shoulder where a still flaming red bruise from Castiel's tight grip was healing. "Return the favour, you know? A mark for a mark."
Nervously, Castiel went to his knees before the Princes and stared at the ground, his head bent. Dean walked behind him and nodded to Michael and Lucifer. Still grumbling that Castiel wasn't worthy, they stripped off his leather armour and linen shirt until he was bare-chested to the cold autumn air. Uncomfortable as it made him to be so naked before them, Castiel kept his eyes on the ground.
And nearly screamed as the first tendrils of pain spiralled up from his shoulder blades. Dean was drawing tiny sigils on his back, wing marks of the Royal Guard. Using the tip of a dagger, he braced one hand on Castiel's neck and held him steady. When it went past his skill, he passed the dagger to Michael.
Michael was not so gentle.
He used a sword instead. The razor sharp edge cut harsh lines on his back, drawing indents that hurt. Indents as if he would sprout wings from them. The feathers, the bloody lines, all of them formed a crude tattoo of wings that sprouted from his shoulders. Castiel's hearing tunnelled and from far away he thought he heard Lucifer laughing.
But the marks were there, proving his loyalty to the cause. Michael eased up the pressure and Castiel found himself rocking forward. A strange exhilaration flooded him.
He was a Knight now. Not just a soldier but a Knight. On the Royal Guard.
He should be proud but instead the first thing he thought of was how he could use this to hunt down that demon soldier. The one who had tormented him for days now.
The one he was struggling to forget.
The quarters were dark, draped in black curtains and decorated with blood red accents. When Ruby entered, she noticed the filtered light that just lit the corners of the room and the heavy smell of incense. It coated the room with fine smoke but not enough to hide the symbols of dark magic that were all around. The room was decadent and luxurious, and somehow a little bit depressing as well. Wrinkling her small nose at the sight and smell, she threw open a curtain and sighed in pleasure at the sunlight that washed through the room.
A loud groan from the other side of the room cursed her.
"Someone is throwing a tantrum," Ruby said in a singsong way as she approached the bed tucked in the corner. The satin-swaddled lump muttered something at her and she laughed. "Up. Come on. You missed dinner again."
Meg's voice was muffled by the sheets. "I'm not hungry."
"Didn't ask you that. I've got news. If you get out of bed, I'll tell you. It would do you good to move."
"I'm just tired."
"You should be downstairs, tormenting Cain, not up here nursing imaginary wounds," Ruby said with a dramatic eye roll. Meg rolled to her back, the sheets parting around her, and lifted her shirt.
"Imaginary?" she growled. Ruby's eyes widened at the sight of her belly. Meg's flesh was shiny and stretched taut in rough ridges over her stomach in patches. Her armour had protected her from the fire but had also heated up to an insane degree to burn her skin. Meg glared at her, her fury making her eyes black. "How is this imaginary?"
"Ok, wrong words. But you can't stay here every day. We should be out, plotting Elysium's downfall and practicing with Cain."
"The Legion ran, last time they invaded." Meg looked at the ceiling. "I think I've lost faith in them."
"Drama queen," Ruby muttered. She smacked Meg on her sores and when the other girl yelped she dropped a heavy piece of parchment. "Look at that."
Meg grumbled and rolled to her side before unrolling the paper. She scanned quickly and then shrugged.
"So what?"
"So…." Ruby drawled. "They requested an emissary from Abaddon. Someone disposable will be going. Cain most likely. If you're lucky, he'll leave you in charge. Or if he's still angry, you'll end up going."
"A ball?' Meg sneered. "I'd rather eat glass."
"Watch it. Alastair would make it so," Ruby muttered. Then she brightened and joined Meg on the bed, wrapping herself around her little sister. She patted her like she might a beloved cat and teasingly tweaked her cheek. "Think about it. You could ask Cain to go. They wouldn't care who you were. It's a masquerade."
"Cain won't take me. It is just the Elysiums looking to show off again. I'd have to sneak in and we all know how that'll end up." Meg rolled to her stomach and Ruby tugged her closer.
"You're probably right. Cain would get us beaten for disobeying him." She rubbed her still bruised jaw. "And I've already got enough bruises from him."
"Could be worse," Meg said, rubbing at her shiny skin. Ruby eyed her and tilted her head to the side.
"That angel really upset you, didn't he?"
"No, but it is just…." Meg froze. "He'd be there, wouldn't he?"
Ruby shrugged. "He saved Royalty. My bet is that he'd be promoted to the guard, like we would."
"Then I should go too."
"Just to see…some angel?"
"Not just to see an angel. They'll be planning an attack, I know it. This is just what we need to get information."
"They won't plan at a ball, stupid." Ruby rolled her eyes again. "What if…"
"I want to see what they are planning," Meg repeated stubbornly.
"And if they're not planning anything but some stupid party?" Ruby asked.
"Then I can still have fun," Meg answered. "Maybe Cain needs a glamoured mistress to take with him."
"He won't fall for it. You'll be beaten for disobeying his orders to stay in the castle. We're not to cross him, remember?" Ruby sat up in the bed and scrambled to the end. "You're doing this just because of him, aren't you? He…"
"I want to see what happened to that little Prince."
Ruby shook her head. "If Cain sees you, you'll be whipped."
Meg snapped her fingers. "Masquerade, remember? I'll just slip in with the entourage. Cain won't be going there to party, Ruby. He'll be so focussed on being diplomatic that he won't notice what happens to the rest of the emissary." She bobbed her legs in the air for a second with childish glee and then rolled up from the bed. "Only reason why he's invited is because they want to throw it in his face that they beat him."
"Cain is going to be furious if you go," Ruby warned. She stood up and crossed the room to the massive oak armoire. "I was just kidding when I said you should. You've been moping around here for a month; I wanted to get you laughing again."
"Why don't you come?" Meg asked as she watched her go to her closet anyway.
"Because I know my place. Serving the Queen," Ruby argued. "You've always been the one to rebel a little. It's going to get you killed someday. Cain's always saying so."
But Meg was going through her dresser now, fishing for something. "I have nothing to wear."
"You have so many dresses. You just choose not to wear them like you should be. You're always wearing men's clothes like some peasant." Ruby tossed out a bright red dress. "Too garish."
"I'm going to make him grovel," Meg said, eyes slitted with her relish for the coming battle. Ruby nervously rummaged through her closet. She picked a dark green dress that had Meg rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
"How? He didn't beg Alastair for anything more than water," Ruby pointed out.
"Not him. That…that….angel." Meg tossed her head back. "I won't make the same mistake twice."
"You said yourself he tricked you in combat."
"And I owe him big time for it." She paced back and forth like a caged wild cat, her dark hair bouncing on her shoulders. "I want him on his knees, begging me to stay, begging me to kill him. I just need to think of a plan."
Ruby suddenly turned, a savage grin on her own face. "May I suggest that you try for something… sweet and dangerous?"
She dangled a heavy black confection of silk and lace at Meg and saw her sister grin. A truly wicked grin that made her know the other woman knew exactly what she meant.