Chapter 5

The next morning saw Dean dressed in all dark brown leathers, with black ties. The leather was well oiled, as per usual, but not shiny. It was meant to blend in, easy to clean, have a good grip on the horseback, regardless of saddle and be easy to his weapons in without making him look bulky, not be showy. Impala was shining, as she always was. He's always oil her hide after the morning work, to make it soft, shiny and easy to room, and of course, so that dirt did not stick. She was a cross breed of an English pureblood, her mother, and a Netherlands Frisian, her father, John's stallion which made her as elegant as a posh breed, but bigger, and more muscular and her tale and mane was long, tick and wavy, as opposed to the thin silky mane of the English pureblood horses. It was just as shiny as her hide.

She truly as Dean's pride, his companion, and the only soul in the world he truly trusted. Both because she couldn't talk, and because she was fast, strong, light on her feet and always got him out of- or into - trouble when he needed to.

That said, she was a temperamental lady.

She was tripping on the spot as they waited for the rest of the hunting party to show up. Dean was sitting on the steps, watching her with amusement, "I know sweetheart," he called, "We'll be on our way soon enough." Impala just snorted and stomped her feet.

"I think the stable master intended to play you a fool when they gave you that horse," he heard the voice of Charles Brandon behind him, "It is both too big, and too unruly for a young man like yourself."

Dean didn't even both to turn around, "The sable master is no fool..." he countered. "Though de said the same thing. However, I should know better, considering I trained her."

"So a hunter and a horse trainer," Charles said sardonically, "There is no bound to your skills."

"A spoiled brat and a poor at insults, there is no bound to your talents either, it seems."

..

"Now now," they heard the king behind them, "Let's not get into killing mood before we find a suitable prey shall we?"

The stable master came with the king's horse, while the stable boys came with the horses for the rest of the party. All in all, they ere six. The king, Brandon, Dean, Thomas Howard, William Compton and Anthony Knivert

"Winchester, you insolent brat," the stable master snapped as Impala unsettled the other horses, "Get that demon of yours tied up, or you'll find yourself a horse less!"

The king arched a brow. He noticed that Dean had not stood up when he came. In fact, he hadn't even moved.

The stable masters threat made Dean snap out of his momentary panic at the proximity of the king. Dean just snorted, "How dare you call my princess a demon, you priest!" he called back, amusement in his voice. Regardless, he got up, and with grace he leaped up on her back. He cringed as his lower back stung, but laughed as Impala nudged his foot playfully.

Henry mounted his own horse, with a small relieved smile on his face. At least he had not hurt him too bad. The rest of the men mounted their horse quickly as well. Charles immediately cam up next to the king, and the rest followed.

..

Dean made sure to stay at the back, as far from the king as he could, next to William Compton. "Good morning," William said. "William Compton here," he nodded in greeting.

"Dean Winchester," Dean replied.

"I know," William smirked, "The king has barely shut up about you."

"And what does his majesty have to say?" Dean asked, though, he was sure he didn't want to know the answer.

"That's the thing; he keeps talking, but he's not saying much," William glanced over at him, taking in the image of the blond youth riding that magnificent black creature, "That intrigues me."

"How so?" Dean knew he was not making much of an effort to be nice, but he wasn't the sort of person to blow his charms up anyone's arse, more importantly, wear his emotions on his sleeve. That was Sammy's job.

"He is more of the 'few words that say enough' type," William grinned, "Much like yourself it seems."

"Are you comparing me to the king?" Dean asked snidely, a small grin on his face.

William laughed heartily, "Like drops of water!" he exclaimed.

"Will!"

William's attention was brought forward by Howard's voice, "Yeah?"

"The king wants Winchester front and centre."

"I'm good back here," Dean replied with a scowl, but Impala was clearly not of the same opinion as she snorted and made her displeasure known.

William waggled his brows at Howard who had a surprised expression on his face. "You'll find that the king don't take no for an answer," he replied, amused.

Dean huffed and let the reins an inch, letting Impala shoot straight into a canter, catching up the king in seconds. She was slightly bigger than the king's white stallion, and even though he rose side by side with the monarch, her head was slightly ahead. Although, the white stallion was stunning. Charles glared at him as he did not fall in just behind the king, as the rest.

..

In the back, Howard chuckled, "You are right, they really are alike, if not in looks, then temper."

William grinned, "Long ears, Thomas?"

Howard grinned.

"Do you actually intend to hunt anything with a bow and arrows, Winchester?" Charles asked. "Are you stuck in the Dark Ages?

"Do you intend to hunt anything more than one animal, after you've scared off the rest with that brutish rifle, Brandon," Dean countered. "And leave your servants to sew the leather into something usable after your powder has made half of it shredded?"

..

Henry was a tad surprised at the exchanges between his best friend and his... hunter. They did not seem to like each other much. "She is magnificent," he interrupted, hoping to keep the peace, "I'm sure the stable master would love to breed her."

"It will be over my dead body that Mr. Fink get his hands on my girl," Dean snorted, "If he'd like to borrow a stallion, he's welcome, but my girl is not up for breeding," he said and rubbed her neck and she raised her head, seeming to agree. "Besides, every stallion that has tried, ended up with a hoof on his nose."

The king grinned, "Then perhaps -"

"And she's not for sale."

"You drive a tough bargain. I'd do much for an animal like her. She seems to have boundless energy."

Dean glanced at the king, for the first time, "It's not a bargain," he said, "She's not for sale."

Henry was stumped. He knew that Dean would be anything but forthcoming, but his status as king usually had even people who greatly disliked him at least keeping up polite conversation. Dean seemed to have no such qualms. Not that he could blame him. "She is restless," he heard Dean say.

His head snapped up to the young man, "Sorry?"

"She is restless," Dean said gruffly, "I usually let her out at dawn, that why she is in such a rowdy mood."

"Ah,..." Henry really was not used to being spoken to like this. Like someone was angry with him, and was not threatened by him not to let him have it as he deserved. Though he had to say that Deans voice was really pleasant. Like the king of voice you'd want to hear if you had a migraine. Not loud, but deep and easily heard. "Would a canter - or a race, ease her temper?" Dean nodded. "Then after you, hunter." Henry said held his horse back a margin to let Dean come to front

Dean took the opportunity to let Impala go. He buried his hands in her mane, so he was prepared when she suddenly reared up and sprang into a long spaced gallop, stretching her long powerful legs.

Dean felt the wind in his face, and the thick mane in his hands as Impala flew across the ground. Easily and with good margin she jumped a fallen tree. Reluctantly Dean reigned her in as they reached a clearing. It was not a good idea to race there, because of the high grass; they would not be able to see any potholes and the last thing he ever wanted was for his princess to be injured.

Seconds later the king and his men halted behind him. Dean made a sign for them to be silent and pointed towards the trees. There was a stag standing at the edge of the forest, just within the range of his bow. He pulled it over his shoulder, and set the arrow, aim and-

"What are you aiming at? The stag? Surely you wont hit it from here?" Kinvert yelled, sitting on his horse besides Brandon, who was smiling smugly.

The stag raised its head, flicked its ears and disappeared into the tick forest. Dean sighed, "I won't now..." he said, but did not say the obvious. He had no need to please these men. Howard and Compton seemed alright, he had not quite gotten a read on what the king truly had said to them, which left him uncertain of whether they were just humouring him.

..

Howard turned to the king, "He does not seem easily impressed, sire."

"Tell me about it," Henry mumbled under his breath.

"Or to like us much - though he seems to get along with Compton." He smiled to himself as the king scowled. Daen turned around his mare and put his bow over his shoulder, and the arrow back in its case. "We'll catch the next one," he called. "We'll need something to eat on this hunt!" he said, making the king chuckle.

Not catching the stag put Dean in a mood. "We will catch the next one," the king said as he came up to his side.

"There wont be a 'next one'" Dean sighed, "The stag will take his herd out of the area, we'll be hard pressed to catch up."

"Oh," Henry said, "So you hunt much deer then?"

Dean chuckled, "Only every week for your dinner."

Henry frowned, "But wont that thin the herds out?"

Dean shook his head, "Nah, not if you take the right one. Never take the mothers or the kids. Just the young males- preferably not the fittest one. As soon as they reach maturity, a few will run off, joining other flocks- the doe's won't mate with their own, but most will die. The stag, if not hunted, will be killed in battle when his young ones reaches maturity."

"So there went our dinner then," Henry said with a quirk of a smile.

Dean shrugged, "There went our steak, but there is always much to find in the forest."

Henry nodded. He'd always hunted for sports, not for feeding, so this was new to him. "Why don't you use a rifle? Don't you have one?"

Dean laughed. He actually laughed. If the king saw the armoury - his armoury, he'd be surprised, "Oh I have many, but I don't use them for hunting animals."

"Then what do you use them for?" Henry said, humouring him.

"Everything else." Dean said, "Winchesters are hunters, have been for generations. We're the best, we can hunt anything, anywhere, as long as you pay the price."

Henry pondered this, "So if I told you to hunt a man, would you do it?"

"If someone cannot be taken by the law, it's usually personal. I don't do wounded pride. It always gets messy. Too messy."

"Good to know."

"You're welcome."

Henry glanced behind them to see that the rest were quite a bit behind, having left them to talk in peace. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I said you're welcome -" Dean looked at him.

"No, I'm sorry," Henry repeated, "For..." could he even man up to say it? "-hurting you."

Dean was stunned. He had never expected an apology from the king, but hearing it just made him angry. He leaned closer, "If you were anyone but the king of England himself, your body would be floating in Thames, so fuck your apology."

Henry sat back, surprised. He had never apologised to anyone in his life; he had not imagined his first to be met by such a reaction. "I -"

Dean shook his head, "I'd like you to consider this hunt my formal resignation," he bit and turned Impala to head towards the river. It was a hot day and the horses needed water.

As he reached the river, Dean slid off of Impala and lowered himself carefully on the ground. His back ached from the ride and wished for this day to be over as soon as it possibly could. As looking up to scan the area, he spotted a stag - a different one, but no less beautiful. He took out his bow and placed the arrow, aimed and let the arrow fly.