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Once upon a time, there was a very wealthy King. His lands were rich and fertile, his people were loyal and good, and his wife had borne him two very healthy sons. He was convinced that the Gods had blessed him.
When in fact, they had not.
On the King’s deathbed, his most loyal servant sought an audience. Azazel had been with the King for many years. They had grown up together as boys. Played in the shade of the castle in the meadows, splashed in the stream that ran through his kingdom, and he had bidden his own parents to educate Azazel alongside him.
Unbeknownst to the King, Azazel had trapped the King’s own wife and sons in a web of lies. With dark magic, he was the one to create their good fortunes. He was the one that made the crops grow, the land fertile, the people loyal with fear, and his sons strong and healthy. Azazel chiseled a terrible spell into their bones and marked their flesh.
With his silver tongue, Azazel demanded to be named heir to the kingdom he so lovingly created or he would activate the curses that would befall both of his sons. Incensed, the king rounded up his guards and banished him from his rooms.
Azazel fled, fearful of all the Guards, but of one in particular; Castiel. Castiel was a young guard, but he was fierce and fought well. He was devoted to the eldest son, Dean, and a great friend to the youngest son, Samuel. His devotion made him dangerous and Azazel was no fool when it came to those who were devoted to their loved ones.
Like their father, the boys treated Castiel as a great friend. He was educated amongst them, trained with them, and was considered their kinsman. Dean designed Castiel’s official banner, Sam commissioned his armor in the newest trend, and even their mother purchased Castiel the finest horse in their land. He slept not in the guards corridor, but placed in an anteroom between both princes. He was greatly loved and it only made sense that he was to be the one to fight and protect against Azazel.
He was obliged, nay, compelled to protect his loved ones. They were his family, his only tether to the kingdom. He was an outsider, cast out from Heaven for his love of humanity. He was remade into something both angelic and human, not quite a nephilim but no longer the bright light of an angel. Trapped between two worlds, Castiel searched for a home and when the sons of Winchester welcomed such a pitiful creature into their fold, they earned Castiel’s loyalty.
Even without the King commanding him, Castiel would always protect Winchester’s royal sons.
To Castiel’s and the Kingdom’s great sadness, there were some things that Castiel could not protect. The youngest son, Samuel, fell ill. He was drawn to the flower of demons that Azazel had been poisoning him slowly with over the years. Dean too, fell to his knees with griping pains in his heart.
Scared at the thought of losing Dean, Castiel put the entire kingdom under the spell of sleep using his life force. Castiel’s grace touched every petal, every grain of wheat, every bird, and every peasant. His grace stretched out and blankets them all pulling them under to rest in enchanted sleep, all but a powerful healer. The witch MacLeod would work on a cure for Sam’s bloodlust. Though he tried, Castiel could not stop death in his quest for the life of the king and when the king trustingly slipped his ancient hand into that of the reaper, he began his final journey. Saddened, Castiel buried the old king alone.
Carrying the burden of saving Dean’s inheritance and throne, Castiel knew what he had to do. Hunting down Azazel, to the outer realms where the land touched the sea, would take months. With everyone asleep, he enacted a plan that could save them all.
Channeling what was left of his grace, his wings of celestial intent reaching up and out to collect all the celestial power available to him from heaven and Earth, Castiel reached into Dean’s soul, pulling Azazel’s curse that was wrapped so tightly around his entire being. Transforming the malignance and fashioning it into a long sword. As the sword grew from Dean’s chest, his greatest friend woke up from sleep, gasping at the power reverberating through him. Castiel kept his body close, his friend was weak and required his care.
Placing a comforting kiss upon Dean’s neck, his greatest friend relaxed in Castiel’s arms. In repose. The sword was allowed to grow and grow into a great weapon of Heaven. As the sword clattered to the floor next to their bodies, Castiel assisted Dean to rise to his feet.
Under the balmy air, Castiel cared for Dean. His soul was weak, it needed the soft reverence only Castiel could provide. With soft touches, the two friends become lovers.
Once healed, the two ventured to defeat Azazel. Leaving the care of the slumbering kingdom and healing of Sam’s bloodlust to MacLeod. With the sword sheathed in a jewelled scabbard on Dean’s back, they ride hard and long.
Seasons pass, summer giving way to fall and fall to winter, and under the returning summer sun the two men locate Azazel amongst the cliffs.
Azazel taunts them. He calls out to Dean promising him to bring back his father from the bowels of Hell if only Dean would take his sword and run it through Castiel’s gut. Tempted, taunted, and filled with a deep longing to see his father once more… Dean stills in that moment. The sword made from heaven and the curse felt heavy in his hand.
“Dean.” Castiel called out to him, not because he doubted Dean’s devotion or love, but to fortify his lover. Castiel brimmed with faith for Dean. He believed in him and their relationship.
Broken from his trance, Dean battled Azazel with great skill and lightness of foot. When Dean’s sword sliced cleanly through Azazel’s heart, cleaving it asunder, the young king did not feel any relief… just pity for the demonic man who was so twisted.
Leaving the corpse of the man in the dirt, Dean and Castiel journeyed to the restored kingdom. Upon their return, Prince Samuel was cured and so with his great power, Castiel woke everyone in the kingdom. The birds, the leaves of the flowers, the hen and her chicks on every farm, the people of the kingdom... and their lives continued as they never slept.
Dean ascended to the throne, with his faithful guard at his side.
-The End