A Nasty Nest 5

After the dragon feeding, the group rode to a castle. On horses.

Dean swore his ass and legs would never recover. He thought back to when he and Sam had traveled to the 1860s, and how he had sent Sam off on a morning-long horseback ride to get the magical Colt from Samuel Cold himself. He sent silent apologies Sam's way.

They were given a room with two beds, a sitting area, and a huge fireplace. And a manservant, who bowed and scraped and asked if they needed anything. Dean sent him on his way with a snarl and stood looking after him for a few minutes. The sound of someone singing "I'm gonna wash that lice right outta my hair..." drifted down the hallway. He slammed the door shut, strode to one of the chairs before the fire, and flopped down into it, mind still whirling. Sam walked over, propped a foot on the hearth of the fireplace, and leaned against the stone wall, staring blindly at the flames.

"Sam."

Sam turned to look at him.

He opened his mouth, started to say something, then closed it. Sam's lips twitched.

"Kind of overwhelming, isn't it?" he said softly.

"Uh. 'Overwhelming' is putting it lightly, dude. And we still don't know if they can send us back!" He looked around the room. "Nice enough, if you like medieval decor, sure. But live here? Forever? No, thanks."

"Well. We can wait until they locate that Dr. Sporin guy," Sam said. "And if he can't send us back..."

"Then we raise hell." Dean nodded. "Okay. In the meantime, we have...what? A Medusa? Maybe? Easy enough to take care of."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "We have to find her first."

"Hunh." Dean leaned an elbow on the chair arm and a fist on the elbow.

Sam dropped into the chair opposite him, stretched his long legs out, and frowned. "We're kind of stymied without the bunker and our lore books. We have to go on memory - "

A knock on the door interrupted him. Before either of them could call out, the door opened. Galavant stood there in a momentary pose, then slouched gracefully against the door-frame. The king's head popped out over his shoulder; Richard smiled and wiggled his fingers at them. Dean gave them a flat, unwelcoming stare.

"No singing," he said, to forestall anything. Richard pouted. The two of them stepped in, Galavant draping himself across the edge of the fireplace, where Sam had been draped only moments before, and Richard pulled up a stool and perched on it.

"So!" Richard announced brightly. "We thought that tomorrow the lot of us would go out to the plain where we found the bodies - as good a place to start as any, eh?"

"On horses?" Dean objected.

Richard just blinked at him, puzzled. "Of course...?" Dean slumped down further in the chair, mourning the state of his balls. "We could always see if Tad Cooper would take us..." the king suggested. Dean flinched and quickly shook his head at the thought.

Too late. Richard was staring dreamily into space. "Gal! We could ride Tad Cooper into battle! Our foes would flee at the very sight!" Galavant dropped his face into his palm. Richard went on, coaxingly, "Oh, but, just think of all the songs that would be sung about it! The noble king - astride a dragon - his valiant knight beside him - !"

Galavant lifted his head, staring into space consideringly. "A hero's steed..."

"Okay, enough," Dean barked. "We're not riding dragons. No way."

Richard gave him a disapproving look. "Y'know, for heroes yourselves, you have absolutely no sense of adventure - "

"Heroes?!" Sam snorted. Richard turned his brilliant blue eyes to him.

"Well, yes. Dr. Sporin specified that we'd get heroes. You...aren't heroes...?"

Sam stared into space, eyes unfocused, rubbing a fist up and down his thighs. "Dean. Aren't Medusas lured by heroes? Warriors, saviors, that kind of thing?"

Galavant straightened, interested. "You need a hero to go after this thing?" He looked at the king. "After all...we have not one, but two, certified heroes here."

Dean said, faintly, "'Certified' heroes...?"

Richard nodded. "Oh, yes! Galavant has been an AHK-certified hero for years now, and I just got on the list this last year, for killing Wormwood and saving the realm!" He blushed and preened a bit. Galavant smiled indulgently.

"'AHK'...? They certify heroes?!"

"Association of Heroic Knights," Galavant said. "What? Don't you have a certifying body? They publish a directory every year for damsels in distress, rebels,in overthrown monarchies, that sort of thing. Otherwise any old knight with a sword and a horse and a squire could claim to be a hero and botch everything up..." Dean and Sam simply shook their heads. Galavant raised eyebrows in surprise. "Tch. Poorly managed. But - " He clapped his hands together with an expression of eagerness. " - We have the heroes - " He gestured at himself and the king. " - We know where the creature was at least a week ago. We go there, Richard and I lure it out, you do your thing with mirrors, and there we go! Eh?"

"Sounds like a plan." Dean didn't sound particularly enthusiastic; he was more resigned at this point.