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“Stop it. Dean stop it! He cried out suddenly. “For the love of all the gods of creation and destruction stop what you are doing. It was an innocent mistake. He's a stranger here, he didn't know. By all fears and all loves let him go!”
Strangely the sounds of the whip stopped. Dean opens the door to the cell and walking out. He strode casually up to Castiel who dropped his hands but did not retreat even half a step.
“Tomorrow it will be your turn.”
“I prefer that.” Castiel replied fiercely.
It was another three days before Dean returned. “What have you done with him?” Castiel demanded, not wasting a second. There was no need to clarify who he meant.
“He is sleeping in the physician's hall. It gives us a chance to talk.” Castiel nodded, a half-acknowledgment that Dean decided was acceptable. It's not like he'd said anything.
“Why don't you go first?” It wasn't really a question.
“What do you want from me?” The words spilled out before he considered them.
“To break you.” Dean replied just as quickly. “I want to break your will completely.”
“If you're so eager, why did you wait so long to come encourage me? You're usually so punctual with you visits, your little reminders.”
Castiel felt a sharp blow to his jaw. Not an open-palmed slap across his face, but a blow from Dean's fist. “Shut. Your. Mouth.” Dean warned with barely contained fury. Castiel had to admit he very nearly deserved that one and told his captor as much. Which seemed to please Dean greatly. The man schooled his reaction a moment later.
“So you're not entirely intransigent. Stiff-necked. You are willing to learn. Very well. Here is your next lesson. Either accept the next meal my servants bring you. Or get down on one knee before me. Right now.”
“I would rather have five day old meat shoved down my throat until I passed out on the floor than place myself beneath you.” Castiel replied coldly.
Dean seized Castiel under the chin, his fingers pinching the man's jaw.
“Be careful Castiel or I might just take you up on that.” He forced his mouth against the princes own full, cracked lips. “The 'beneath' part anyway.” He added lasciviously.
“How dare you?!” Castiel demanded. He wanted to scream his demand at the top of his lungs but was too revolted by Dean's implication.
“Enjoy your squash soup my prince. “When I bother to bring it to you.”
Castiel was surprised when the meal was brought the very next morning and not by a servant or even by the barbarian king, but by his younger brother. “I thought you might be hungry.” The man said softly, His eyes were apologetic. The stew in his hands was beef and winter vegetable. “This isn't from Dean, it's from me. Accept it, please.”
Castiel reached his hand through the bars, accepting the young man's generosity. He sat cross legged on the floor and did not hide the sounds of pleasure that came up from his throat as he ate. “Thank you. For your kindness.”
“I felt like I had to do something.” Sam explained, rubbing the back of his neck. He handed the prince a silver goblet filled almost full with wine.
Castiel took the goblet but did not immediately drink. “Why are you helping me?”
“You're a prince. This is your kingdom. Defeated or not__” He stopped himself. “I am sorry. I shouldn't have said anything.”
Castiel dismissed the apology with a slight wave of his hand. “It's all-right. It is the truth. I surrendered. I became subject to whatever fate your brother plans for me.”
“No.” Sam insisted passionately. “Surrendered or not you should be in a room with a bed, blankets a basin, a window not down in a cell like some kind of criminal.”
“Please, I know you mean well, but please do not remind me of...what I am lacking.”
“Of course. I apologize.”
“Gladly accepted. But you should go. If your brother finds you down here, I can't think what that would mean. But thank you. Truly your Highness, thank you.”
“It's Sam.” The other man offered his face further softened by a sudden smile.
“The tinkerer is free to go. As for you my pet, back to your cell.”
"Why?" Castiel grabs Dean's wrist in desperation. "Why did you do this to me, Dean?"
Dean's amused expression turns into an unreadable, cold mask and he leans forward towards Castiel's ear, whispering: "Because I promised to break you." Silence which seems to stretch on until it is deafening.
Finally Castiel shakes his head. "No. Kill me. But don't send me back to the cell. Please. Just kill me." He whispers hoarsely, feeling the crazy pace of his heart.
Dean hushes him, his thumb brushes over Castiel's cheekbone, wiping the single tear that has rolled down from the captive's eye. "Take him back."
As Castiel is dragged from the great hall wretched and pleading Dean felt a sense of satisfaction. Until he heard his brothers voice.
Castiel was dragged from the hall, legs flailing, mouth empty, his voice broken. Dean wore a satisfied smile, until he heard his brothers voice.
“Dean, what on Earth was this? What did you do to him?”
“Oh come on, you can't tell me that wasn't fun.” Dean replied, dismissing his brother's concern. His face changed when he realized the tone his brother had used. “Sam...”
“What in the name of Heaven could have happened to you?” Sam asked, his eyes wounded. “I tried to help him. Did you know that? You ordered me not to help him and I tried anyway. I brought him food and wine. He showed no concern for himself. His only worry was what you would do to me if you found me there. The only reason I stopped was that he asked me to. He asked because he was scared for me.”
“Sam...”
“No Dean. I don't even recognize you now. I am ashamed to know you.”
Dean stood breathless in the hall. Breathless and alone. He had never seen his brother so angry. Maybe he really did go too far with Castiel? Okay, maybe it wasn't a very good joke but it was a victory. His mind supplied. But what victory? Castiel had surrendered ages ago. No matter what Dean had put him through, humiliations, meals of broken bread and filthy water –even trying to force himself upon the man– Castiel had never lost his light. Never cracked, never swayed. And that had infuriated him. Suddenly he knew something about himself. Something Sam had either been too loyal, or too polite to say. What kind of man does everything in his power to steal the light from another man's soul and calls it victory?
Dean had seen his enemy break. And all of a sudden, would give his life to take it back.
When Dean makes his way to Sam's chambers he finds a room dark except for a single candle on the table, and a note. His brother couldn't even look at him or he would have waited and said goodbye in person.
“Koni. Temus. Doran Kal-ish Talli. Invenies me cum inveneris Tuum verum sui.”
Dean had never felt as small as he did in that moment. 'Selfish ignorant bastard'. Those were the words in the note. That is what Sam called him. This was how badly he had fucked up: his baby brother wanted nothing to do with him. His self-flagellation paused for a moment. 'That wasn't true'. He thought suddenly, looking at the second line again. 'find me when you know your true self'. Sam hadn't given up on him completely, still had faith in him. Now he would begin to deserve that faith. And he knew exactly where to start.
He sat by the prince's side, the man seemed to be resting peacefully. And for the first time he noticed the man's pale stretched face. Worry, pain...fear. He felt shame clutch him. How could he have been so blind? So cruel and callous to another man. A man whose only crime was to stand up for his family, for his kingdom?
“Castiel. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I don't even know what happened. My stupid pride was hurt and you were the one to pay for it. Repeatedly. I couldn't see. I couldn't see what I was doing to you. After everything that's happened, you may think you're better off dead than as my prisoner. Is that why you haven't woken up? It's not like I could blame you if it were. You're not going back to the dungeons. You'll stay here, in your rooms. I won't touch you again I swear it. Not in anger not in...desire. By all the gods I don't even know why I did that! If you can hear me, maybe consider waking up? Even just to laugh in my face. I forced you to kneel to me. The truth is I should be kneeling to you. Wouldn't that be an awesome thing to see? I would. I will, if you wake up. Please live, Castiel. I need you to live. Please.”
Long moments passed, there was no change in Castiel's breathing. Finally Dean stood up. “On second thought, may be it's a good thing you can't hear me. I don't know what I would say if I...If I had to face you. The gods must be laughing at me. I'm sure of that.” He walked out of the room.
“So, how did he come to decide to send you to me? I would have been happy with a fruit basket, and he sends his handsome, younger brother?”
Castiel nearly choked on grape. “A fruit basket.” He started to chuckle and soon laughed. Dean grinned and chuckled as well. Castiel got control. “King Michael doesn’t value family very much, only stability, position. I suppose he sees his position as more secure now that I am away from his kingdom.”
Dean frowned slightly. “That’s terrible. Samuel and I have always been close. It's regrettable to know royal brothers who value family so little.”
“My other brothers do, value family I mean. Raphael, Gabriel and I are as close as royal brothers can be. Michael just happened to be the oldest.
“And I’m sorry, you got sent away from your home.”
Castiel bowed his head. “There is no use being sorry, although I thank you for the consideration. I am here for your pleasure, my King. I accept that.”
This really made Dean frown. He didn’t want anyone to ‘accept’ his advances. If he was going to bed anyone, he wanted a willing partner, not someone who was doing what he was expected to do. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m not going to bed you.”
Castiel felt fear at those words. He displeased the King. The King was rejecting him. He was going to die in a fiery blast. He squeezed his eyes and turned his head, waiting for death. “Do it! Get it over with. Just...just make it quick.”
Dean looked at him with a quizzical look. “what are you talking about?”
“Burn me. Run me through with a sword. Just please get it over with.”
Dean looked completely confused. “Why would I kill you. We're to be married in a fortnight. Why would I kill you?” He didn't seem to be grasping reality well.
Castiel on the other hand seemed to take the question quite seriously.
“Because I failed you. I disappointed you. You kill anyone who displeases you.”
Dean shook his head as if to clear it. Castiel had spoken as if his answer were obvious, as if his...expectations were a matter of fact. “You have done nothing to displease me Castiel. And I am NOT disappointed in you. But even if you had, I have never burned or slain anyone for my personal pleasure. Or displeasure for that matter. I swear to you on the blood that flows in my veins and the breath I take, I have never burned anyone.” Dean tried not to laugh. Castiel was frightened, and as confused as he was. “Castiel, I have never set fire to anyone in my life. I swear I don't do that.”
“Holy fuck. I was so sure you were going to burn me to death.” Then he started to laugh. Dean laughed along with him. They caught their breath and Castiel reached for a slice of meat. “Suddenly I have my appetite back.”
“Yes,” Dean said with a laugh. “I suppose being certain you were about to be burned alive would curb ones hunger. You're a brave man Castiel. I hope you know that.” Castiel stared at him, taken aback. “I don't think I would've had the courage to come and dine with a man I was expecting to burn me to death.”
“I thank you, your highness.” Castiel answered.
The angel shuddered violently and Dean had a feeling it was from more than pain. Castiel pushed himself out of the hospital bed and forced himself onto the floor at Dean's feet.
“Forgive me master. I have caused you trouble and wasted your valuable time. Please forgive this slave.” His words were so earnest his apologies so empty of self that Dean would have thought them insincere, except that the man was literally quivering.
“Castiel.” His voice, strong though it was, was drowned in the litany of apologies that were flowing from his slaves lips. Sadly this was exactly what he'd been expecting from the...his new slave. “We'll talk about that later. I have another question for you. And I order you to di-rectly answer me.” Castiel stilled but did not move a muscle. “Stand up. Face me.” Castiel hurried to stand, perceiving an order from his master. But kept his eyes firmly on his own feet. “Why didn't you eat? You know I have more than enough to feed us both. Why choose to go hungry?”
Castiel did look up at that. Looking at him as if he'd said something ironic. “Master did not give this slave permission. To eat.” He paused before the last two words as if they were an afterthought, or an explanation he wasn't sure was needed.
“You needed my permission...to eat?” Castiel made no reply, except to stare at him as if he'd made a bad joke. “Consider this standing permission to eat whatever you want, anytime. And what you cook for my meals, you are welcome to.” Castiel stilled. Then bent his form to brush his forehead against Dean's feet. A silent, reverent thank you. “Let's get you back in the bed.” Dean helped Castiel back into the bed and pulled the sheet over him. “You need to stay a couple of days for observation. Then you're coming home with me. I'll do a better job as your master. At least I will try.”
“Master. it's my job to be enough for you. Not the other way around.”
“Masters prerogative.” Dean answered, smiling for the first time since he met the man.
Prince Sam ordered a hot bath to be made and began stripping the man of his dirty clothes. The man jumped back. “It's alright. I just need to get you out of these clothes and into the bath.” Taking in the man's wary look, he decided to try a different tactic. “What is your name?”
“It...it is Castiel, sire.”
A hand on Sam’s made him freeze. “Why?” the blue-eyed man asked.
Sam straightened himself, raising his hand to brush the hair out of the man’s eyes. “There’s…” Sam began. He rested his hand on the man’s cheek. “There’s something about you. And what you did or tried to do, you did out of love. You shouldn't be punished for that. No one should. Ever.” “I will leave you alone.” Sam said, turning to leave.
“Milord. If my mother...if she is alive. I know I've no right to ask but please...”
“Tell me where she lives. she'll be well cared for. You have my word.”
Castiel had lived 14 weeks in the castle, helping wash clothes, fold linens and clean the princes chambers. Almost every day he would receive a summons from the prince and join him in a walk through the gardens. So when he was summoned to the princes chambers he didn't think anything of it ...at first. “Milord.” Castiel said with a bow as he entered the prince's chambers.
“I have a surprise for you, follow me.” Sam led Castiel out of the room at a quick step, down three different hallways, stopping at a room with a single guard. He pushed the door open, beckoning the other man inside. Castiel struggled to keep up with the prince. He wondered what could possibly be happening. His first thought was that the prince had news of his mother, but then why had he not simply told him there in his chambers. He followed the prince into a room with a green wooden door. Castiel saw the most beautiful sight he could have imagined: His mother lay on a cot peaceful and alive.
“Mother?” he gasped.
“Shush, don't wake her.” Castiel seemed not to have heard the prince as he rushed to his mother's side and took her hand in his own.
She did not stir. He looked up, confusion and worry open on his face. “
When Phineas found her she was__he says that a few more hours and she would have been beyond all aid. He stayed with her, until she was strong enough to stand on her own. Then she was brought here. She's been given a sleeping draught.” Sam lifted Castiel gently by the shoulders. “Phineas has promised to inform you the moment she awakens. For now..”
He did not get a chance to finish his sentence. Castiel threw himself to his knees. 'Thank you milord. God bless you.” Tears of joy rather than terror flowed down Castiel's face. “I am your servant for life. I know it is not enough but it is all I have. Please.”
Samuel fought to hold back his own tears and he struggled to lift Castiel to his feet. “Castiel, get up, please.” The boy shuffled to his feet but kept his eyes down, his head bowed. “Castiel, in all the time that you've known me, have you known me to be anything but honest with you?”
“Of course not my prince.”
“I promised you that if your mother was alive I would bring her back to you. I kept my word. That is all. You owe me nothing.”
“Is it?” Castiel asked, his features suddenly sharpened, his eyes keen, over-bright. “Is that the only reason you did this?”
“You mean is the fact that I made a promise the only reason I did this? No. I don't know how to explain it...I want to help you. That's all I've wanted since I met you.”
“Then let me do this for you.” Castiel insisted. “Let me be this for you.”
“Castiel...” The prince's hand fell. “Believe me when I tell you that I have servants enough. I would never demean you like that. If you feel you must repay me for this, I will ask only one thing of you. Stay here in the castle. Be my... be my friend.”
Castiel saw no signs of malice nor deception. No humor, playful or harsh. Only hope. This was an offer. More than that, a request. And he knew his answer.
“If my mother is here, where else would I go?”
“Ah, of course. Well I have finally managed to see you happy. Moreover to be the one to make you happy. That's all I'll ever need.” Despite his reassuring tone, Sam looked thoroughly uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I do not know your brother. I hope he is like you, that he has even half of your heart.”
“Okay...uh...ominous.”
“It seemed wiser than wishing you could be king instead of your brother.”
'Well, fair enough.” Sam's demeanor shifted. His eyes shrank into his head. “I hope...”
“Your highness.” Castiel interrupted. “For my part, we ARE friends.”