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The Winchesters, royal family of Kansas, were well-known as good horsemen. According to rumor, this was because of a curse placed on the family generations back.
The first Winchester king had four sons, the oldest two being twins. Lucifer, the younger twin, was very jealous of his older brother Michael, despite the devotion between the two, and that envy rotted his heart. When King Chuck died, Lucifer asked Michael to share the throne with him. Michael refused – a kingdom needs one king, he claimed. He hoped Lucifer would be his chief advisor and right-hand man, but he was not going to share the throne.
Lucifer walked out, taking somewhere around a third of the nobles with him. As he was leaving, he laid a curse on the kingdom – they would never know peace when there was more than one son born to the king. Because of the usefulness of sons, every generation chose to believe that the curse was nonsense, and every generation found itself at war. The constant warfare had led Kansas to become masters of many aspects of combat, and their open, flat land was very conducive to cavalry. Princes were practically born in the saddle, and grew up riding from the time they could hold themselves upright. By manhood, a Kansan prince was among the greatest horsemen in the world.
Because of the strength of his riding skills, Dean refused to believe it when a messenger brought news that King John had been killed in a riding accident, falling from his horse when the beast spooked at lightning that struck a nearby tree. Because of that, he refused to take the crown. “I’ll believe King John is dead when I see a body and not before. In the meantime, Sam and I can handle things as princes acting in our father’s name.”
“Your Highness…”
“No. I’m not taking the throne until I’m satisfied that my father isn’t the rightful occupant anymore. He’s too good and his horses are too well-trained for him to die like this.” Dean slammed his hands on the table. “Sam? You wanna back me up?”
“Dean and I will act as regents, but John is still the king,” Sam said. “When the king’s body is found or it is proved that he won’t return, we’ll proceed with the succession plans then.”
The council didn’t like it, but Dean was not afraid of them. He was quite used to making decisions for himself and overruling any questions his advisers might ask. Once they were convinced they were up against the legendary Winchester stubborn, they gave up and left. Dean sagged back against his chair, head in his hands. “Sammy? Is Dad dead?”
“I have no idea. The story’s unbelievable, but then again, if I were going to make up a story about how Dad died, I’d make up a story about bandits getting a lucky arrow or a sneak attack from one of our neighbors so that you’d believe it.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “For what it’s worth, no dreams about Dad’s death, freak horse accident or otherwise. If your gut’s telling you Dad’s not dead, then he’s probably going to show up here in a couple weeks pissed off and ready to rip some heads off.”
“Good.” Dean got up and put his arms around Sam. “If he doesn’t, we gonna break the Winchester curse and deal with the succession like brothers who support each other, or are we gonna have problems?”
Sam smiled and bent his head to rest his forehead against Dean’s. “I don’t need the title. You’re the king. You and me against the world, come whatever.” He kissed Dean, and the room rumbled with thunder. Sam pulled back, eyes wide. “What was that?”
“I don’t know. Little freaked out here.” Dean went to the window and looked outside. It was a nice, sunny afternoon, no clouds, no hint of rain or storms on the horizon. “Okay, Sammy, you’re the brains of the family. Thoughts?”
“Either the gods don’t like us kissing each other, or we’re threatening the family curse and Lucifer’s rolling over in his grave. I have a good way to test those theories…”
Dean grinned and came back over. “For the gods to have a problem with us kissing each other, they’d have to exist. C’mere.” He pulled Sam back down into a kiss. No thunder this time.
Two years later, Dean and Sam were once again fighting with the council. “It’s been two years since your father’s death, Your Highness. It’s time to face facts – he ain’t coming back,” Bobby said.
Dean just stared at Bobby. “I respect you a lot, Bobby. You’ve been one of the best counselors this kingdom’s ever had. You need to get it through your head that my father is not dead until I see a body. I’m not taking the throne from someone who’s still using it.”
“If you don’t, we may have to throw our support behind Prince Sam in a rebellion.”
Dean turned to stare at Sam. Sam just looked back at him. Dean nodded. “You do that, Bobby. All of you. Give Sam all the support he wants in trying to take the throne. Knock yourselves out. In fact, I’m gonna go for a walk, let you start planning your rebellion.”
Dean walked out into the beautiful clear day. When he crossed the drawbridge, the earth shook violently, throwing Dean to the ground. The sound of hoofbeats got him starting to pick himself up, and then there was a hand extended to him. “Son? What are you doing out here on your own?”
“Dad?” Dean took the hand and pulled himself up, saluting John Winchester. “The council’s in the war room planning Sam’s rebellion to take the throne since I won’t.”
“Sam’s with them?”
“Yeah.”
“Why aren’t you?”
“You don’t invite the enemy to a war council, Dad!”
John crossed his arms, staring at Dean. “You’re just gonna let your brother take the throne.”
“No, the throne’s yours. When you die for real, then we’ll see, but I never believed you were dead.”
“Come on, let’s go deal with this little plot of treason,” John said, face grim. “I’m sorry your brother turned on you.”
Dean got between his father and the door. “Dad, you think I’m stupid enough to walk out and let the council start planning Sam’s rebellion in my war room if I thought for a second Sam would cooperate? Sammy’s up there telling them to go to Hell, I guarantee you.”
John put a sympathetic hand on Dean's shoulder. “You’re Winchesters, Dean. Betrayal and backstabbing is what the younger sons in this family do.”
“Not Sam.”
When they got to the war room, it was immediately chaos as the council stared at John in shock and horror. Sam just smiled and got to his feet, saluting John. John didn't return the salute. “Sam. Dean tells me there’s a rebellion being planned in here.”
“They’re trying. Hard to have a rebellion when the butt they’re trying to put on the throne is saying no, though. Good to see you again.” Sam crossed the room to hug Dean. “That earthquake happened when I told Bobby and the others that they can plan all they want, but the only way I was accepting the throne was if I saw two dead bodies – yours and Dad’s – and that if the deaths weren’t natural my first act would be to go after the murderers for high treason.”
Dean shot a triumphant smirk at his father and then turned back to Sam. “Curse broken?” It would explain the earthquake.
“Could be. Won't know for sure... probably ever, but the last two years have been peaceful enough, so it's possible.”
“Well then. Good for us. Dad, you were saying about younger sons…?”
John stared skeptically at Sam. “You trust him?”
“The first time he was given a chance to betray me and said hell no, there was thunder on a clear day. I trust him.”