Dean woke up at the mouth of a forest- or what looked like two forests, with a split path down the middle. He groaned.
Left was Pixie Hollow... right was the Swampland. He had heard talk from the brothel of Pixie Hollow, talk from seasoned villains that put all sorts of fears in his head over the years.
Pixies were downright scary things, who could use just a pinch of their dust to create an entire, lifelike mirage that would make you question your sanity, and you could get lost for years, decades even, if you took a wrong turn in that place.
The Swampland, on the other hand, sure, was rumored to have ogres and quicksand, but it was the fastest way to Dragon's Keep, where Dean assumed the tower was. The faster the better.
God. Enchanted or not, this place was proving to be a pain in the ass.
Speaking of which- Dean was feeling thoroughly strange- or thoroughly abnormally normal, depends on how you look at it. He hadn't fucked or been fucked in two days, which for him, or someone in his line of work, was definitely abnormal.
Not that he particularly missed it- yeah, sure, maybe he missed the freedom of walking around, flaunting himself to every possible person, and having fun playing on his naturally sexy charisma- it was true that he fit the job well…
But Cas, whether it be for better or for worse, evidently spoiled his outlook on his past career. Now, Dean, who had never had expensive taste, now wanted the Prince and only the Prince, and that's why he was currently traipsing through some Magical Woodland Swamp without half a clue what he was doing.
But with a deep breath, determination (or sheer stubbornness, depending on how you look at it), and a give 'em hell attitude, he pushed on, entering the right path down into that branch of the Enchanted Forest.
He walked down the beaten path, if it could be called that, and ducked frequently out of the way of wayward vines and sloppy weeds hanging from the huge, willowy trees above. To the right of him, the marsh and swampland was visible, and the place stunk to holy hell.
Damn, Dean thought, wrinkling his nose, I bet Pixie Hollow smells better than this place... I bet it smells like cakes and golden nectar and Cas and yummy shit like that…
He continued on, and after a few minutes of walking, looked down at the map. As he tried to follow his course through the various intricately labeled landmarks, he heard a *squish*, and looked down slowly.
"Son of a bitch!" he shouted to nobody, and recounted that as the third time he'd had to say it in the past 24 hours, which wasn't a good thing. He was ankle deep in... some gooey something, and it didn't look too good for him, because he was quickly sinking.
"Really?" he asked, spreading his arms and looking to the sky without knowing exactly who he was talking to, "You friggin' kidding me right now?! I barely start this quest, and I'm dying already?!"
He tried to find some vine around him that he could grab onto.
Anything.
Anything?
Then the panic slowly started to set in as he realized his previously shouted words might be true. "Uh," he said cautiously, "Help?" he asked, expecting there to be some woodland creature, a dwarf, a mouse, hell, an OGRE would do fine just about now as he slowly sunk to his sure, horrific death in the pit of surprise quicksand.
He was down to his knees now, and couldn't move his legs an inch. "Shit!" he called, and tried to wiggle around. He must have looked pretty stupid, flailing around, but he didn't care, since there was nobody in the near area to see or help him.
Dean Winchester, you stupid son of a bitch, he thought to himself, you left the nice safety of your make-do home, and now you're knee deep -literally- in ooze that could have been avoided if you weren't such a cockslut for some snooty Prince!
"Uh... uh!" he grunted, trying to lurch over to the nearest tree branch.
"Wowzers," came a voice behind him, and Dean jumped, (quite metaphorically), in shock. "Hello?!" he asked, sighing in relief, "Oh my god, yes- please help me!"
"You are knee deep in some pretty sticky stuff, aren't ya, pretty boy?" the voice asked. "Thaaat came out wrong… uh, so did that!"
Dean growled. "Who are you?! Help me out!"
"Yeah... okay. Might as well, haven't had a friend for... oh, three centuries or so." Dean frowned. Great. First encounter with a breathing being was some ancient creature that could probably smite him at any moment.
"Just help me out, dammit!"
He was up to his waist now, and he couldn't feel anything below that. "Fine, fine. But just so ya know, patience is a helpful virtue, buddy!" the voice said, and Dean muttered some obscenity under his breath.
Just then, he heard the sound of hooves- hooves?!- beating against the ground, and the pool of quicksand was suddenly gone in a blink. He stumbled over onto the now conveniently dry ground.
Dean quickly got up and turned to see who, or what, was talking to him before, and what had miraculously saved him.
Standing there, was a brilliantly shiny golden stallion with white wings; and to Dean's dismay, he looked perpetually sassy. "Uh..." Dean said, and the horse laughed. "I know. You're speechless. I'm pretty awesome, right? You can't turn off the fab on this bucko, honeytoes!"
Dean frowned. "First of all... who are you? Second... how can you talk? You're a horse." "I prefer the term celestial being, or Pegasus if that doesn't flow," he said, rolling his eyes. "Look, kiddo, I'm not just any old 'horse'- I'm an enchanted Pegasus. They call me Gabriel."
Dean nodded. "Right. Okay. Well. Thanks, Gabriel, for, uh, helping me out there. I'll just... be on my way, then."
Gabriel frowned, quickly trotting after him. "Wait- where you going? I thought we were friends!" Dean turned hesitantly. "Yeah, sure. Catch you on the flip side, goldilocks." "But... I just saved you! Friends help friends, then said friends stay with friends! Hey- I'm coming with you!"
Dean chuckled. "No, you're not." "Oh, but I am." "Look, little fella- I appreciate your 'celestial' help and all that- but I'm on a dangerous mission to Dragon's Keep to save a helpless Prince shacked up there against his will, so unless you feel like having your wings roasted and flambéed-"
"Uhhh, speaking of roasted, bud, need I remind you who it was who just got his ass saved by me, this 'little fella' over here? Would you like me to toss you back in? 'Cause I will! And if you're going to a place like Dragon's Keep, you're really gonna need my mojo. Trust le moi."
Dean sighed. "What do you want from me?" Gabe smiled. "I want you to quit being an arrogant dick, and let me come along on your quest." Dean's eyebrows shot up, and Gabe went on casually. "It sounds fun."
Dean pursed his lips, and the Pegasus nuzzled against him. "Don't deny it- you don't know where the hells you're going. And you know I can help!"
Dean grumbled in response, but didn't deny it. He finally sighed. "Fine. But don't talk so much, okay?"
"Okay! Oh yeah, we can tell stories, we can make waffles with lots and lots of syrup and candy on them, we can sing a-capella renditions of Kansas songs-" "Woah, woah, woah," Dean said as they followed the path, "We're not doing any of that." "What? Come on! Pleeeease?!" Dean rubbed his temples at the annoying creature following him.
"Fine- if it means you'll shut your cakehole, ONE Carry On My Wayward Son. And no damn waffles!" "Ugh. Fine. Ahem. CARRY ON MY WAAAYYWARD SOOOON- THEY'LL BE PEACE WHEN YOU ARE DOOONE-"
Dean groaned inwardly. This was gonna be a long quest.
They walked until the next day, stopping only for rest overnight, and snaked around the swamp, Gabriel providing helpful ways around areas that were potentially jacked up with ogre bait and traps galore, also providing some not-so-helpful entertainment, singing the equivalent of musical death.
"Would you shut up?!" Dean finally asked, covering his ears, and Gabriel pouted. "My voice is beautiful, Dean-O. Back in the day, lords and ladies of Far Far Away would pay bucket loads to hear my true voice sing." Dean shuddered. "Those poor, misguided souls."
They were on their way to the Bramble Thicket. That sure sounded inviting- but it was the only way to get to the other side of the swamp.
They walked through the area, which was getting darker and damper as they emerged, and saw bushes begin to surround the path, bearing tiny, red berries.
"All right. Once we're in here, we have to hurry, or it'll swallow us up and turn us into its lunch." Dean stared at him. "It's a bramble patch." "Yeah? And?" Dean swallowed, and they kept walking.
"Huh," the young man said, peering around. They started walking further in, and Gabriel yelped as he felt something sharp poking into him. "Woah-ho, is that a bramble bush, or are you just happy to see me?"
Dean scowled. "We're surrounded by these things." "Yikes. Alright, don't touch anything. The thorns are poisonous, which means if you get scratched by one of these things, you'll keel over in milliseconds." "Gee, thanks for the belated words of wisdom, feathers." "You'll be thanking me when you're still breathing on the other side."
They carefully made their way through, and came to a very small, very narrow closure and opening in the thicket. "Oh, now, this is wonderful," Dean muttered, "How are we gonna fit through that?!" "Easy. Like this," Gabe said, concentrating hard on something. When nothing happened for a few silent seconds, Dean held his arms out, inviting an explanation.
"Like what?" Gabriel opened his eyes. "Uh... that's not so good… See, we were supposed to shrink down into real tiny things so we could get through, but... something's cock-blocking my magic!" Dean sighed.
"Welp. Guess we'll just have to wing it!" the Pegasus said, a little more nonchalantly than Dean would have liked. "Uh... how, exactly, would we achieve that?" "Don't get scratched, muttonhead!" Gabe said, giving an annoying grin.
Dean cursed under his breath, and watched as Gabriel made a shallow leap through, and miraculously made it.
"How the hell... holy shit, I'm not going to make it..." Dean grimaced, trying to get through carefully. "Just go for it!" "Shut the hell up," Dean spat, his face contorting. "Remember who you're on this quest for! Do it for your hottie!" Gabe pointed out, and Dean sighed.
Just then, he heard a sound, and realized all of the thorns were actually growing.
"Ah!" he cried, and Gabe winced. "Yeeeeah, I forgot to also mention- if you don't really high-tail it, they'll start to actually come after you." Dean's eyes darted around in panic, and with a nervous lip-bite, he threw himself through, landing hard on his stomach on the safe, green grass.
"Oof," he mumbled, and looked back to see the hole closing up. I could still be in there, getting eaten alive by thorn bushes, he thought bitterly. A sentence he thought he would never think to himself.
Now that they had made it through that treacherous area, they made their way on to the North part of the swampland and forest.
Just as they were coming along to another fork in the road, Dean noticed something along the ground. "Wait- wait, GABE DON'T-!"
*snap* *CRACK!*
The two hollered as they were snatched up by two nets made of metal wire, now hanging upside down from a slimy green tree branch.
"Ugh…thanks a lot for your so called help, wingman," Dean muttered, and Gabriel struggled. "Hey- I had no idea this was here, I swear!" "Well, use your powers to zap us out, before whatever trapped us in these things comes and grinds our bones into bread!"
"Now, now. That sounds revolting. I'd rather settle for a nice old scotch and watch you two blame each other for my genius," said a drawling British voice behind them, and the two tried to look around to place it.
Suddenly, they heard a slice, and before they knew it, they were falling to the ground with a thud. They got up, groaning and wiping dirt off of themselves. "Who's there?!" Dean called, and the voice spoke again.
"Who's there, you ask? Well- the most feared being in all of the Swamp- the most cunning mind in the whole kingdom!"
Dean was beginning to worry now just who they had crossed paths with…