"I'm sorry, but I do have to tell this to the Officials."

Dorothy suddenly got up and started to leave the library. Dean pursued her, looking shocked.

"Woah, woah!" he called out. "Wait a second! I don't want any—any big deal or something!"

"It's too coincidental!" Dorothy said. She kept walking quickly. "We have to confirm. Please, keep up with me. I don't want you unattended."

"Argh."

Dean grumbled to himself as he and Cas followed Dorothy through the library. Instead of using the entrance they came in through, she veered off down a row of books and went through a smaller door. She held it open and motioned for them to come through.

It led down a narrow hall which surely went through the castle. It turned once and then they came to another door. Dorothy held it open again, but now they found themselves in a great, giant room. The ceiling was at least five times what they expected in a room, and it expanded quite far. Stained glass lined the walls and, while the room was mostly empty, a row of chairs sat at the end. Five meek seats were in front of two great, stuffed ones made of elaborately carved wood. There sat five people in the five chairs, all dressed in black and doing work in books. They looked up when Dorothy came in.

"Miss Dorothy?" one of them asked. He got out of his chair and approached her. "What is the matter? You look grave."

"I have here a man who is quite possibly our lost prince."

The man who was standing, an older gentleman with thinning hair, looked to Dean and Cas. Upon a quick inspection, he knew who was the alpha and he walked up to Dean, his hands folded behind his back.

"What gives you this reason?" he asked.

"His mate has given him a single egg," said Dorothy, "And he is named Dean."

"Did your mother give you this name?" the older man asked.

"I guess," said Dean. "I didn't know her."

"And where did you come from?"

"I uh," Dean paused.

Now was not the time to generalize his beginnings. That was great for ordinary people like Bobby, but the situation was quickly getting out of hand here and lying wouldn't help.

"I'm from a pack of hunters. The pack of the plains."

"Hmm, I see…"

This strange man kept looked Dean over, humming thoughtfully a few times. He looked at their egg, too, and a little at Cas. Then he decided he had finished and went back to his chair. Dorothy waited in silence the entire time.

"What do you think?" she asked at last.

"I think," said the man, taking a deep breath, "That a visit to the Seer is in order."

"The Seer?" asked Cas.

"Mmm, yes. He'll know. Dorothy? Send orders to the guards for an escort."

"Yes," Dorothy said.

She gave a small bow and walked away, leaving Cas and Dean alone in the hall. The man they were speaking to immediately went back to writing, and it suddenly seemed as if the couple did not exist. If Dean was their king, they certainly didn't care much about him.

Cas said nothing. His eyes flicked over to Dean's a few times and they exchanged silent confusions, then he looked at the two chairs behind the row of people. These were old, very old, and had been made with painstaking detail. Their ornate wooden frames housed a cushion and backing of rich, red fabric. Upon each seat there sat a crown—one was large and gold, while the other was a thin, silver tiara. Cas considered how much they were worth.

"Must be waiting on the king," Cas whispered to Dean.

"Yeah…"

Finally, the awkwardness was broken when two men came into the room. They were tall and well-built, dressed in the guard's armor. Upon their arrival, the older man looked up and gave a smile.

"Ah, gentlemen," he said calmly, "So good of you to be here. Please, escort this couple to the Seer at once. Take great care of them."

"Yes, sir," one of the guards said.

He then turned to Dean and motioned for him to follow. The other went to Cas' side and they all left the great hall. Cas noticed another small door off to the side as they left, where a young blonde woman was sticking out her head. She smiled at Cas and the door closed.

The Seer lived in a small house that wasn't too far away from the castle. It sat all alone, quite dilapidated. There were no windows and no signs of life—if Cas and Dean had passed it earlier, they would have thought nobody lived there.

"Sir?"

One of the guards knocked on the door. It slowly opened. There stood an old man with sallow cheeks and thinning dark hair. He turned directly to face the guard, but his eyes were closed.

"What business do you have here?" the man, presumably the Seer, asked in a cool, accented voice.

"Orders from the Officials, sir," said the guard. "We've brought two outsiders who wish to speak with you."

"Uhh—"

Dean almost interrupted but he decided to stay quiet. The Seer looked in his direction with his closed eyes. He gasped softly.

"Very well," the man said. He slinked back into his house.

"Are we going in?" Cas asked the guards.

"Yeah, go 'head."

"Thank you…"

Cas and Dean went in while the guards waited out front. The Seer's house was entirely dark. No candles and no windows made it impossible to see anything. After the front door closed, Dean nearly tripped.

"A candle," said the Seer.

Suddenly a length of wax was handed to Cas.

"Oh!"

He was also given a flint. Working in the dark, he got the candle lit quickly so they could see. The house was just one room with few pieces of furniture. Many crystals and odd tapestries were placed here and there.

"Are you blind?" Cas asked.

The Seer sat at a table, his hands folded together and his closed eyes right on Cas.

"Yes," he said.

"What kind of seer are you if you can't even see?" Dean asked roughly.

The Seer sniffed once and pointed to an empty seat.

"Sit," he said.

Dean looked at Cas with wide eyes. This man moved as if he could see perfectly. They both joined him at the table.

"What have the Officials spoken with you about?" the Seer asked.

"Not much," said Dean. "They think I'm their king or prince or something."

"Why?"

"Because I'm named Dean, I guess. And my mate here had one egg. And, I dunno…I don't really want this kind of trouble."

"Trouble? How is it trouble? King John lived a rich life…aside from Lord Azazel's bounty on him. But that is another matter…"

Dean swallowed stiffly. He took Cas' hand.

"Don't," the Seer interrupted immediately. They released each other's fingers. "Thank you. I need to focus on your energies better."

Several minutes of silence passed while Dean and Cas waited awkwardly. Cas put the candle on the middle of the table and kept his hands on the egg. The Seer focused on Dean first and then to Cas. After some time, he finally spoke, looking at Dean once more.

"You certainly have energy of the Winchesters."

"That's the royal lineage, correct?" asked Cas.

The Seer nodded and kept "looking" at Dean.

"So?" Dean asked. He didn't like having a blind man stare at him and be able to figure out more than he knew.

"So," said the Seer, rather stiffly, "There are two possibilities of who you are. Mary of the Winchesters left Lawrence with her infant son named Dean, yes. I speculate that she returned to the pack in which she came…where King John found her…she probably knew that Azazel was going to kill her and left Dean in the safe and unknown hands of the hunters. However…"

The Seer paused here a took a deep breath. Dean shifted in his seat. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to have Cain there. Cain was twice his age and had always been with the pack. He surely knew things that Dean didn't—and wasn't—supposed to know.

"Mary was with another egg," the Seer finally continued. "There is a chance that, I don't know why, she told the pack that her first son had a different name and then had a second and named him Dean."

"Why would she do that?" asked Cas.

"I haven't the slightest idea."

"Do you think it's likely?"

"No, but it is possible and we ought not disregard it."

Dean cleared his throat.

"So, uh, if there's an older son, a second Dean, what am I?"

"A prince, unless the other son is dead. I don't know."

Dean frowned.

"Helpful," he muttered. "What about Cas? My mate? What about him?"

"There is much to say about him," said the Seer, "But I'm not finished with you."

"Argh, okay. What? What am I supposed to do? Find my brother? Become king? I don't wanna be king."

"There's only one thing you really can do," said the older man. "That is to finish where your father left off."

"And what's that?"

"Lord Azazel."

"But—"

Cas interrupted here. His eyes were wide and his nose twitched. The Seer did not turn to him but he paused to listen.

"How do we know Lord Azazel is still alive? How do we know King John is dead?"

"I know some things," said the Seer. "I know that King John is no longer on this plane. I can tell. I know. As do I know that Mary is deceased, too."

"But my brother?" asked Dean.

"I have never sensed him. I wouldn't know what to search for."

"Ugh. Okay…so what do I do? I just declare my solidarity to Lawrence and go get myself killed slaying this asshole who hates my father?"

"Not just your father, your lineage."

"Do you have any idea why?"

The Seer paused.

"No," he said plainly.

"Great. Just great."

Dean got up.

"I'm done here. I don't think I want to be involved. I've had enough trouble, enough drama. I lost most of my pack, Cas lost most of his herd…we've seen some real shit. But I was never hunted by a weird guy and I was happy not knowing who my parents were. I don't need to live in a city where I can't hunt for my own fuckin' food! I'm done. We're leaving. I'm gonna go back to my pack and raise my child with my mate. Come on, Cas."

Cas was still sitting. He looked up at Dean sadly.

"What?" asked Dean.

"I want to hear what he has to say about me, at least. Since we're here."

The Seer sighed.

"Are you done yet?" he groaned.

Dean narrowed his eyes. His shoulders relaxed but he still stood up.

"Okay, fine. What d'you think about Cas?"

"I think a lot about him," the Seer said. He turned his attention to the beta now. "I think he has a strange aura I've never seen before. And the egg, especially…I'm very, very intrigued."

"Strange how?" asked Cas. He blinked a few times

"Strange, I don't know…strange as in…strange as a…I'm afraid I'm at a loss for words. It's peaceful, at least. You have a good vibe. Dean, however, is just as bold and brash as his father."

Dean let out a stiff sigh.

"Wonderful for a leader, but possibly difficult as a lover."

"Dean isn't difficult," Cas said softly. "He's quite wonderful."

"Be that as it may…"

"Okay, now we're going," Dean said quickly. "Come on, Cas. Let's go see how Cain is doing."

Reluctantly, Cas blew out the candle and followed Dean out of the house. He felt strange about all of this.

"You can't fight fate," the Seer mused as they were leaving. "You're going to come back to the throne eventually. It's in your blood."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Whatever."

When they left the Seer's house, the two guards were still standing there. They came to attention and followed Dean and Cas as they walked away.

"Woah, hold on," said Dean. "I don't need you guys to come with us. We're leaving now."

"Leaving where?" one of the guards asked.

"Leaving Lawrence. We've got a little place to get back to."

"Oh…erm…"

The guards exchanged confused glances.

"We at least have to see you out as you leave."

"Fine, fine…"

Dean gave an exhaustive sigh.

"Remember," said Cas. "We need to buy tools for your pack before we leave."

"Yeah, 'course."

They came back to the inn and grabbed up their belongings. Dean readied Ammy with the cart, but took out a bunch of gratz to go shopping with. Unfortunately, word of Dean's lineage had already reached the common folk of Lawrence.

"No, no! I can't possibly ask you to pay!"

The blacksmith protested when Dean offered to cover the cost of the weapons he was taking.

"Oh, come on," Dean groaned. "You worked hard for this. Here, please. Take my gratz. It's fine. I don't need them."

"I could never take money from the king!"

Dean groaned again, louder this time.

"If I'm king, then you have to heed my orders, right?"

The blacksmith gave a low bow. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Take my money, then," Dean said.

The man hesitated, looking at Dean with pained eyes.

"V-very well," he finally agreed.

Dean handed him a generous fistful of gratz—far more than the weaponry was worth. The blacksmith began to cry.

"I have-I have never—in—ah!"

Dean patted him on the arm and gave a smile.

"See? It's good. Take care of yourself with it."

The rest of their shopping went this way. It was very irritating to Dean since he had to impose his "will" onto each person who refused to take his money. That was especially heart breaking when the merchant was clearly poor. Dean, however, did not give in. He made sure that everyone he received goods from was compensated handsomely.

"Okay, we're going now," Dean told Cas when the cart was full to bursting with goods. "Out to the west so we can find the town where my pack is. Is that all right with you?"

Cas nodded weakly.

"What's wrong? You don't actually want me to be king, do you?"

"I…"

Cas pulled at the egg's protective sack nervously.

"Cas, tell me…"

"I'm scared to leave," the beta admitted. "This city is safe. We are well loved and cared for. I don't…I don't want to be killed by—by anything!"

"But this Azazel guy is probably going to kill us if we stick around."

Cas frowned. Dean was right. If Lord Azazel knew where Dean was before he made it to Lawrence, he surely would have been killed by now.

"All right," Cas sighed. "Then we will go."