ooOoo
The Supernatural characters belong to Kripke Enterprises and the CW, not me. No money is being made from this story. It is for entertainment only.
I wish to thank Winter Gray for being my Beta on this story. Without her help there would be a lot of continuity holes in this thing. She also bails me out when I hit a wall. Thanks so much, Winter
The Fae Prince
Chapter 12
An Open Door
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnished hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra,' by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot
The Lady of Shalott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson 1809-1892
Dean lay on the motel bed, bruised and beaten. After slapping Dean the previous night John had staggered back to the table and opened another bottle of liquor. It didn't take long for the drunken man to remember that he had a disobedient child that needed to be punished. With his arms still tied behind him Dean had no chance to defend himself against the drunk. He had tried curling into a ball to protect his head and gut but John had decided to use his belt.
It had not lasted as long as some of the previous beatings John had given Dean because the man was almost too drunk to stay upright. Eventually John had fallen down one too many times and he went down and stayed down. Dean started immediately working on his bindings. He found that the blood from his torn arms and back helped ease the way. Once the ropes were off Dean headed for the door, intent on getting the hell out of there. Unfortunately he tripped over John's outstretched hand and it tightened around his ankle as John came back from drunken dreamland. The shock made Dean stumble forward and he rammed his head into the door frame, knocking himself out cold.
He had no idea what time it was when pounding on the door woke both him and his father up. Dean found himself handcuffed to the headboard and his head was killing him. Passing his free hand over his face he found a knot on his forehead that was hot to the touch and incredibly sore. He watched as John carelessly flung open the door without so much as asking who was there. It was Walker and the man pushed past John and pulled out a chair from the table.
"Tied a good one on, did you John?" Walker laughed at the drunk. The man's eyes searched for Dean and Walker leered at the boy. "Hiya, pretty boy. I bet you wish I'd taken you with me last night." Walker's eyes took in John's bloody belt, abandoned on the motel carpet and the new bruises on Dean's face.
John stood up straight in a parody of the outraged father. "I didn't get my boy back from his lover to hand him over to you, Walker. Forget it. You won't get your filthy hands on him"
"Well, Winchester, are we going to go for this hunt or not?" Walker deftly changed the subject but never took his eyes off Dean. "Those weres won't wait forever and the high and mighty town fathers of Pergola aren't going to raise the bounty for heads any higher. If we keep dragging our feet some other Hunters will snatch that money up." Walker picked up the almost empty bottle of whiskey. "You need cash for your little hobby here." Walker took a swig. "And we have the perfect bait." He waved a casual hand at Dean. "Tie him up and let's hit the road."
XXXXXXX
Sam lay awake on Bobby's couch. The Hunter had pinpointed John Winchester's proposed hunt to a small town called Pergola in the rolling hills just east of Lincoln Nebraska. Although the prairie state was not known for woodlands Sam wondered about the possibility of a Fae door. If there were multiple weres found in a single location there was always the possibility of magic leaking from a broken or cracked portal.
Sam became Samisfallen and the darkness in Bobby's living room retreated from the soft glow. He drifted through the screen door out to the front of the house and scanned the horizon with Fae sight, looking for a clue. There was a tug from the north and he drifted with the soft night wind into the small wooded area on the northern end of Bobby's property.
His wispy body floated on the wind, wrapped in colored twists of Fae fog and transparent in the moonlight. He was a creature from dreams or old tales of the Sidhe, the fallen Warriors of Fae history. To see him was to allow wonder into your life.
To see him most likely also doomed you to either death or the Fae lands. He was careful to not attract attention even from the wild things of the earth. If they entered through the door most of the creatures would not survive the Unseelie Huntsmen who roamed the Fae world looking for the defenseless to present to their Queen.
Once into the woods he was surprised to find that the glowing Fae portal that had called out to him was a Rowan tree, covered in its characteristic white flowers. The Rowan, the cwic-beam in Old English, also the wiccan-tree or witch-tree, was a powerful charm against evil. If used as a Fae portal it could only be used by members of the Seelie Court. It would not allow the Unseelie courtiers to pass. Samisfallen thought he would be happy to let Bobby know of this extra protection on his land.
Sam fell to his knees and placed his hand against the tree. The portal was closed to him but he cried out to his father, hoping to attract a Guardian of the Gate who might get a message to his father that Samisfallen was on his knees begging a favor of the King.
Sam waited a while with his head bowed and finally a cold blue light fell on his folded hands and lowered head. For the first time in months he heard his father's voice but did not dare to raise his head. He was going to ask the King for a favor and to show no arrogance was important. He needed to be obedient and courteous.
"What boon do you ask, Prince? " His father's voice was as cold as his light.
"Father," Sam answered. "You have been proved correct. I have found a partner to share my life. I'm sorry for my prior disobedience but he is the only partner I can now accept. Sorry but he is a human."
His father's staff tapped his knee. "Say you are sorry for your insolence and tell me your request. You are not back in my good graces yet, young one."
Samisfallen prostrated himself on the ground. "Father, please forgive me. I know that my sentence here is not yet completed but I need to use the Fae portals to rescue my lover from the men who have taken him. Please father, can you grant me passage until I have rescued him?"
There was a long pause and Samisfallen could hear whisperings behind the portal. He suspected that the King had brought advisors to this meeting. Samisfallen's only hope was that those Advisors that counseled the King to discipline his bold son were not the ones that would pass judgment on his rescue plan. Some of the Seelie Court felt that Samisfallen did not defer to the King as he should. They thought he was presumptuous and far too young to act as a counselor to the King and to express his own opinions of the decisions of the Court.
Sam simply waited and thought of his Dean in the hands of the Hunters. Sam swore that John Winchester would pay for every mark he found on Dean's body.
His father spoke again. "Samisfallen, hear my favor. You will be allowed to travel between portals to find your lost love; however you will not be allowed to linger. You are to draw him into our world and present him to me. Once I have approved of your choice you both shall immediately leave the Kingdom. Be aware that the Unseelie Huntsmen are ever increasing in number and you most likely will have to defend yourselves. The Queen would be incredibly pleased if Her Huntsmen brought her a Seelie Prince and his Chosen Lover."
"The Queen has also complained that I have snubbed her and denied her various courtesies. It would be very good if, along with your lover, you brought me a gift for the Queen. You are very aware how much she likes new pets. You were once chained to her knee when you were younger. I think she would like to fill that spot again; perhaps with a human this time."
"Thank you father," Sam replied. "I will obey." Sam already had a couple candidates to suffer the attention of the Unseelie Queen.
XXXXXXX
Dean was tied and thrown in the back of John's truck. Initially he was pleased to be left alone and diligently worked on freeing himself He was hog tied with his hands behind him and his feet drawn up with a rope around his throat. Any attempt to straighten his legs cut off his breathing. He lay on his side to decrease the pressure and concentrated on trying to free his hands.
The truck stopped moving in only a mile or so and two more men appeared. Gordon stepped out and around the back of the truck bed, giving up his seat to the newcomers. He climbed into the back with Dean. John Winchester's voice projected through the sliding window between cab and truck bed. "You better keep your hands to yourself, Walker. My boy is not your toy. Leave him alone."
Walker hardly let the truck start moving again before he cut the rope around Dean's ankles. "Don't get all excited, boy," he murmured. "You're not going anywhere." Next his hands went to Dean's jeans and Dean kicked at the man.
There was a roar from inside the cab and John yelled at Walker again to get his hands off Dean.
"Shut up and drive, Winchester." Walker yelled back. "You've hurt him a hell of lot more than anything I intend to do."
Dean scooted up against the back of the truck cab with his hands still tied behind him. The ropes were cutting into his wrists as he jerked at them repeatedly. He tried to keep Walker away with his feet but the man was quick and got in some pretty good gropes. At one point Walker was actually on top of him with the man's hand down the back of Dean's pants.
It was the roughest hour Dean had ever spent in the back of a truck, fighting off Walker's hands and trying to keep his pants up. He lost both boots in the fight but Walker had gotten it in the face with those boots before he got them off Dean's feet.
They finally stopped for gas and John took a walk around the back of the truck. He pulled Walker off Dean and punched him in the face. "I think you better ride up front now Walker. You've had your kicks. As a matter of fact, it looks like you've had quite a few." John laughed at his own cleverness but did pull Walker out of the truck.
"Hey Merle," John said to one of the other men. "Why don't you take Walker's place in the truck bed? You don't have a taste for boys, do you?"
"Don't worry about me, Winchester," Merle, a beefy, red-faced strawberry blonde, replied. "I'll keep an eye on the bait."
It was several more hours and a couple of hundred miles before they drove past Lincoln and kept heading east toward Pergola. Merle sat silent, watching Dean but never moved or tried to make conversation. Dean might as well have been a side of beef Merle was going to feed to the weres.
The sun was past its apex and beginning to descend when they finally pulled into Pergola. The men got out of the truck and John slid Dean down the bed and cut the rope on his hands.
"Now just walk around and look normal, Dean." John muttered. "If you want food or the bathroom and something to drink, don't pull any shit. You're not going to make a run for it now so forget it." John held on to one bicep and Merle followed them into the diner. Once inside Dean was wedged in between the bastard Walker and his wandering hands and Merle again. John sat on the other side of the table.
"You know, Dean," he said as he scanned the menu. "I think they killed your boyfriend back in that parking lot. I don't know for sure cause I haven't heard from those guys but that was the plan; they weren't supposed to call me unless something went really wrong. I suggest you get over your temper tantrum and settle in for the long haul. I don't intend to ever let you go."
Dean jerked as Walker's hand landed on his crotch and squeezed.
John looked at his hunting buddy. "Walker, I'm getting real tired of your hands on my boy. He's never going to settle back down with me if you keep it up."
"Winchester," Walker sneered back. "The kid's had a taste of steady screwing. Unless you plan on doing it yourself I suggest you let me keep him satisfied. He'll just run off again without it."
Dean almost choked. "So that's your offer, Dad? You think I'll settle down and stay with you to be raped every night by this bastard?"
"Dean," John answered, "up until six months ago I thought I knew what you wanted; lately I have no idea so we're just going to take it day by day. Today you're the bait in this hunt so I suggest you eat up and shut up. Stop waving our family laundry in front of these men and let's get on with the job."
XXXXXXX
I was dusk when the Hunters finally located a trail in the woods where the locals told them three of the 'animal' attacks had taken place. The City Council was offering bounties of $1,000 a head for any predators the Hunters could find. It could be dicey trying to convince these townspeople that a human was actually a werewolf but Walker had told John that he had a spell that would stop the transformation for almost 48 hours; more than enough time to turn in the heads, collect the money and beat it out of town before someone recognized the head of one of their neighbors or relatives.
John's brain was already half pickled in alcohol anyway so Walker didn't have a hard time selling his story. In truth Walker had bought a spell from a gypsy woman but he had never tried it out. If it worked, great, was Walker's approach. If it didn't work at least Walker got his kick from killing things and possibly those council members would be stupid enough to carry the bounty money on them.
The Hunters moved through the wood, heading for their selected kill site. Dean was behind his father and Merle was behind Dean. When they broke into the clearing Merle tried to lead Dean to a tree in the middle.
Dean had other ideas. "If I don't have any other choice in this hunt can I at least pick my own damn tree?" he growled. He had spotted an oak that looked fairly ancient on one side and he remembered Sam talking about oaks. If there was the smallest chance of rescue Dean was going to take it.
Merle looked at John. "What do you say John? Does he get to pick his tree?"
Walker answered for John. "What the hell difference does it make? Sure string him up wherever he wants. It won't make any difference to the wolf."
Showing up late for the party, John Winchester seemed to suddenly realize what was going to happen. "You're going to tie him up? He can't defend himself that way. What the hell are you thinking, Walker?"
"Winchester, you supplied the meat." Walker snarled at the slurring alcoholic. "I'm going to supply the brains from now on."
Walker waved at Merle to get on with it and the blonde Hunter pulled Dean's arms up around a branch and tied them there. Dean backed into the trunk of the tree to try to at least protect his back. Walker came over wearing a big smile and waving a knife. With a few sudden slashes he opened Dean's shirt to expose his chest then cut off his jeans. Dean stood naked and Walker drew the knife blade down Dean's thighs.
The teenager stood exposed, bleeding down both legs. Walker smiled and wiped his knife on either side of Dean's face. "That should get the wolf's attention. The man then turned back to see the other three Hunter's staring at him in shock.
"Get over it." Walker barked. ""What the hell is the matter with you guys? The kid is meat and now he's bloody meat. The wolves will come right at him. You better be getting ready to shoot if you don't want him ripped to shreds.
As the sun set and the moon rose Dean sagged in his restraints. John had tried to approach his son a couple of times but Walker had driven the man back into his hide in the bushes. Now there was howling on the hillsides and everyone went on full alert. There was rustling and yipping in the undergrowth and growling all around. The tension could be felt in the air as the wolf pack caught the scent of Dean's blood.
There was a sudden rush and wolves broke from three separate directions. The Hunters rose up, all firing at once but there was no coordination. Two wolves were wounded but only one fell. The third was untouched and heading straight for Dean.
There was a ripple in reality and a long, pale translucent arm appeared from the trunk of the oak tree. It wrapped around Dean's waist and the ropes holding him in place fell to the ground. Dean's body was sucked into the bole of the oak and the wolf that was about to leap on him also disappeared.
The firing stopped and two wolves lay dead on the ground. One was starting to transform already and Walker rushed over with his enchanted herbs and threw them on the body. Surprisingly enough it actually worked. He threw more on the other body and set to cutting off the heads. While Walker knelt to his bloody work the other Hunters approached the tree where Dean's ropes lay on the ground.
"Where the hell is my son?" John spun around. "Where is he?"
Merle and his sometime partner, Grady, looked at each other. They had seen Dean appear to get sucked into the tree but they found it hard to believe. Along with John they paced around the oak and peered up into the branches overhead.
"What did you see? Merle asked Grady. "Did you see an arm come out of that tree?"
They both looked over at Walker, up to his elbows in blood; he was working on his second head. The first lay on the ground, bleeding into the fallen leaves.
Merle laid a hand on the trunk. "I don't like this at all. I think we should get out of here; to hell with the bounty." He and Grady picked up their weapons and started to walk away from the blood soaked killing ground.
Walker finally looked up from his butcher's work. "What the hell is going on? Where is the kid? You find his body?" John Winchester walked back into the clearing after a fruitless search around the edges of the space.
"Walker, get over here and stop playing with the carcasses. Help me find Dean. He's got to be around here somewhere." John spun to look around again hopelessly. From far away came the sound of bells carried on the wind.
Walker finally stood up and came over to the tree. "He's here somewhere. He probably jumped up before the wolf hit." Walker placed a hand on the tree trunk to steady himself as he peered up into the leaves.
A pale translucent hand with long fingers thrust its way out of the tree trunk and fastened around Walker's wrist. There was another ripple in the real world and, with a jerk, Walker ended up on the wrong side of the oak's bark.