Chapter Text
Dean entered the village and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. The last thing he needed was to be recognized. Though most people didn’t even know he was back from the war yet. And, according to his brother, it had changed him. So chances were slim.
Still. He’d run out of reasons to stall the official announcement and the festival that would no doubt be held in his honor. Dean just… he needed to acclimate himself first. He’d been at war for seven years. It was hard to find his way back to a normal life. And his life wasn’t even a normal one at that. He was a crown prince and people were catering to him. He’d never felt fully comfortable with it and after seven years of sleeping under the stars and hunting for his own food, it just felt plain wrong.
The other reason he’d been stalling was this current visit he’d been putting off. But he owed Jimmy more than his life, the least he could do was see his family and make sure they were ok. He’d promised Jimmy he’d deliver his wedding ring for him when he died in his arms after catching an arrow meant for Dean. An action Dean felt guilty about. Why should his life be worth more than Jimmy’s? Just because he was the crown prince?
Jimmy had become his best friend though and he knew he’d have done the same. Jumped in front of Jimmy, too. Except that privilege had been denied to him. He could only hope to make it up to him by making sure his family was well taken care of.
Dean found the house easy enough. Jimmy had talked about it so often, the small creek in the back, the bakery just down the street, the wildflowers his brother had insisted on planting in the front garden. Except… Dean frowned. There were wildflowers alright, but the grass had grown tall all around them and the house looked not taken care of. Apparently Dean had to talk to Jimmy’s brother next or take care of the house himself. He owed Jimmy this much and more.
When Dean went up to knock, he noticed that the door was ajar. And not only that, it had fallen off it’s hinges. Shit. This didn’t bode well. For all Dean knew this town had never been under attack and if there’d been a break-in, the magistrate should have taken care of fixing it back up? Dean really needed to get caught up on recent rules and politics, now that the war was over and he could care about mundane things like that again.
“Hello?” He called out. “Anybody home?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear an answer. He’d hate to think of Amelia and little Claire living in a place as unsafe as this.
The door creaked and completely fell down once he pushed on it to open it enough so he could enter. Well. So much for that. There was no way anybody was living in this house. He took one step inside and found it empty of all personal belongings. A few pieces of furniture remained, but everything was dusty and a smell of rotten wood permeated the air.
Worried, Dean stepped back outside. Maybe one of his letters had reached home and they’d put up Amelia somewhere nicer? But his father hadn’t said anything. Could he have forgotten?
“Hey!” A female voice rang out to him. “There’s nothing left to rob, so you better run before I call the guards.”
Dean turned around only to find a woman brandishing a pitchfork at him. He held up his hands. “Sorry, ma’am. I came to find Amelia Novak. Would you mind telling me where she has moved to?”
The woman frowned in confusion, but didn’t lower her pitchfork yet. “Amelia Novak? So you don’t know?”
“Know what?” Dean took a step closer and the woman grabbed the pitchfork tighter. Hadn’t Jimmy said he lived in a nice neighborhood? What had happened here? Dean pulled off the hood of his cloak. “I have been off to war with her husband, Jimmy,” he explained. “I only just got back.”
“Oh.” The woman bit her lip and looked him up and down. “Oh, dear.” She finally lowered the pitchfork. “So you really don’t know. A tragedy, what happened. And the poor girl.”
Dean’s heart clenched. “Claire? Is she… are they…?” He didn’t even dare to speak it out loud.
“Amelia… She didn’t take it well. They’d been so in love, you see? Me, I married my husband because I knew he could provide for me and my family approved. If he were to die tomorrow…” She shrugged, then quickly looked around. “I mean, I’d be very distraught of course. Very. But… life goes on, you know?”
No, Dean didn’t know. Because she wouldn’t tell him. He ground his teeth but forced himself to nod pleasantly. She might be the only source he had.
“But for Amelia, life ended. She tried her best, poor thing, she really did. Had the wee one to think about, too. But then…” The woman looked away and crossed herself. “Bless her heart.”
The pit in Dean’s stomach only grew. “Amelia died?”
The woman leaned closer. “Drowned herself. In this very creek.” She pulled out a handkerchief and crossed herself once more, then she dabbed at her eyes, even though Dean could tell she wasn’t crying.
“And the girl? Claire?” Dean asked, hoping he could at least do right by her.
“With the Sisters.” The woman replied.
“Not her uncle?” Dean prompted. With everything Jimmy had told him of Castiel, he’d have expected him to step up.
“Oh no.” The woman spat on the ground. “Can’t leave a kid with… with that.” She shuddered. “I know it may be legal now, but it’s unnatural, is what it is. Bad influence for the child. The Sisters had to step in.”
Dean frowned. They’d sent members of the Sisters of Quiet Mercy to care for him and Sammy too, after their mother died. He hated them and their strict rules on top of royal protocols. They were in no way fit to comfort a grieving child. He had to find a way to get Claire out of there.
“Is Castiel still a leather worker over at Zachariah’s?” Dean asked.
“Heavens, no.” The woman brought the handkerchief up to her lips, scandalized by the mere idea. “Zachariah is a good, God-fearing citizen.”
Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was not helpful at all. “So where is he then?”
“Zachariah?” The woman pointed to her left. “He’s on the main street right next to…”
“No,” Dean interrupted her, frustrated. “The uncle. Castiel.”
“You don’t want to see him.” The woman shook her head. “A good man like you…”
Dean waved her off before she could continue. He couldn’t stand to listen to this. Him, a good man. Hah. If only she knew. He’d just have to find Claire first and then maybe ask around. He was sure he’d be able to find Castiel, assuming he was still around. But with everything that Jimmy had told him, Dean couldn’t imagine Castiel would just abandon his niece.
He strode out of the garden with purpose, starling the woman, who took a step back and almost tripped over her pitchfork. “Thanks for your kindness,” Dean ground out, briefly bowing his head. He wouldn’t waste any more time on this.
“Wait,” the woman called after him. “Do I know you? Where are you going?”
Dean ignored her and made his way over to the convent.
**
“Your Grace!” The Sister opening the doors immediately recognized him and got on her knees for a deep bow. Dean sighed, but he wasn’t surprised. They were much closer to the crown than an average citizen. Besides, his status could only help him in here.
“Sister.” Dean greeted politely and then held out his hand. “Please stand up. I am not King yet.”
The Sister accepted his helping hand with a surprised look on her face. “What brings you to our doors? We heard you were back home, blessed be.” She touched the cross hanging from her neck. “I prayed for your safe return every night. I had no doubt God would watch out for you.”
Yeah. God. Dean bit the inside of his cheek. If there was a God, he was an asshole for allowing so many people to die in a senseless war. And apparently people didn’t just die in battle, no, their wives died, too.
“I am looking for a girl.” Dean elaborated. “Claire Novak.”
The Sister winced. “What did she do this time? We promise to make her pay for the damage.”
“Oh no,” Dean cocked his head. “Nothing like that. Her father was…” Dean broke off. The Sister didn’t need to know all of this. “I am delivering his crest ring.”
“The Prince is delivering?” The Sister straightened up. “So he was a hero like she’s been telling everybody?”
“He sure was.” Dean unconsciously touched his heart, right where the arrow would’ve pierced him, had Jimmy not jumped in front of it. “So, can I see her?”
“Oh.” The Sister ducked her head. “It’s best you give it to me and I will make sure her husband gets it.”
“Husband?” Dean gasped. “She is engaged to be wed?” How old was she by now? She’s been so small in the drawing Jimmy carried with him.
“Not yet,” the Sister replied. “But she’ll remain in our care until we can provide her with an adequate caretaker.”
“Right.” Dean tried to remember the rules for female orphans. “Unless she joins your convent?”
“Hah.” The Sister snorted. “That’ll be a sign of the End Times.” She grinned but her face suddenly fell and she ducked her head. “Forgive me, Your Grace. It’s just… Claire is a handful.”
Dean smiled. Good for her. “I promised her father,” Dean stated. “I know it would be in safe hands with you, but I am honor-bound to hand deliver only to Claire herself.” He definitely didn’t trust the Sisters not to keep the ring as payment for taking Claire in. They might not even tell her that Dean had been here. “Please,” Dean tacked on, taking the Sister’s hand between his. “Help me fulfill my quest.”
The Sister bit her lip. “Oh.” She looked around, probably wondering if she herself would get in trouble for this. “You are the Prince. I can’t deny you your request.”
Dean breathed a sigh of relief and followed her through several corridors. They passed a few more Sisters and Dean could hear the whispers start as soon as he’d passed.
“Claire is currently banished to her quarters,” the Sister told him. “Her punishment includes no visitors. She’s supposed to pray in quiet solitude to achieve some clarity.” She gave Dean a meaningful look.
“I will make my visit short,” Dean promised, having no intention of honoring it.
The Sister knocked and called out for Claire, but there was no reply. She sighed. “Well, she is supposed to keep quiet. I’ll let you go in, Your Grace. But I’ll be waiting right outside this door.”
Dean nodded. “Claire? I’m coming in,” he warned, before opening the door and entering the tiny, austere room. He immediately realized that Claire wasn’t in it. Not wanting her to get into even more trouble, he closed the door behind himself before the Sister could have a peek as well.
It felt too weird to just sit on the girl’s bed and after standing around awkwardly for a few minutes, Dean started to look around, trying to gauge what kind of person Claire was. There was a handmade stuffed cat squeezed between the wall and the bedframe, simultaneously making it harder to spot and harder to steal. She also had a fine looking leather pouch hanging over her chair, which was probably a lot more valuable than the cat. At least in coin. Dean just hoped Claire would appreciate the sentimental value in her father’s ring as well.
He was tempted to leave it on the desk for her with a note, but that would be chickening out. And had the Sisters even taught her how to read? She was just an orphaned girl to them.
Not wanting to go through her closet, too, Dean decided to call it a day. “I’ll come visit you again, Claire,” Dean announced loudly to the empty room before he closed the door behind himself quickly. Going by the neutral look on the Sisters face, she was none the wiser. She’d actually stood a little further off than Dean expected her to, so she hadn’t been eavesdropping. Dean frowned. He was an adult male going into a little girl’s room and closing the door behind him. Shouldn’t the Sister have chaperoned?
He didn’t like any of this and almost forgot to ask the next important question. “Sister, would you know where her uncle lives? Castiel?”
“Your Grace, you don’t want to…” the Sister started, but Dean interrupted her.
“You misunderstand. Tell me where he lives. That’s an order.” Dean barked maybe a little too harshly, but this had all been hard enough. The day was grating on him.
She gave him clipped directions and didn’t bow quite as deep when Dean left, but he got what he wanted. Dean had never cared much for the pomp and circumstances anyway. Still. He’d be back to actually check on Claire.
It took him about twenty minutes to find Castiel’s home and workstation. The man had his back turned to Dean, but he had Jimmy’s height and frame, Jimmy’s dark hair. Although Castiel was less bulky, it was still undeniable. Dean gasped out loud and when the man turned, he could feel his vision swim before his eyes.
“Jimmy?” Dean gasped.