Childe Winchester Chapter 3
Dean woke with the dawning of the sun. Quickly he ate, gathered his belongings and packed Impala once more. He mounted her, and they walked slowly towards the edge of the woods, still concealed by the thick foliage. Elfland in the daylight was not much different to Elfland at night-it was still dark and inhospitable. The creatures of Elfland looked very much like those of Kansas, except some had eyes as black as soot, while others sported mouthfuls of pointed teeth. A heavy sense of threat hung in the thick, almost cloying air of this land, filled with the black smoke of industry, of machines built for war. Dean shivered, wondering how on earth he could enter the land, get to the Tower and get inside without being found out. His chance came when he saw a lone figure, a cloaked demon, walk in his direction. He dismounted, drawing his sword and waited until the creature was within striking distance. He hesitated for a moment, unsure for just a second, and the demon spotted him, pulled a knife from its cloak and walked towards him.
“What brings you here, stranger?” It rasped.
“I seek the Tower,” Dean replied.
“No one gets to the Tower,” it said, snarling. It raised its knife but Dean was too quick, striking at the creature’s core. Immediately it fell forward, dead, hitting the ground with a thump. Dean worked quickly, stealing the cloak and knife before remembering Pamela’s instruction. One swift blow to the neck was all it took to sever the creature’s head from its body.
He set off again, concealed in the demon’s cloak and carrying its knife to ward off anything else that may come his way. Ahead of him he could see the Tower, watching over Elfland, surrounded by nothing more than a couple of demon guards. He continued on, Impala’s steps getting more and more hesitant as they got closer. “Shhh,” he said, soothing her. “Shhh, c’mon, it’s going to be fine. Trust me.” He patted her flank, and continued to move forward.
Sure enough, the disguise worked and he managed to get to the Tower unheeded. Getting in the Tower would be a different matter entirely. The King of Elfland’s residence was heavily fortified, with guards at every entrance. Dean circled the thing twice, looking for some kind of weak spot but finding none. Eventually he arrived at the front door, deciding that if he couldn’t get in unnoticed, he may as well make as much fuss as possible. Looking through his bag, he found the Slughorn. He placed it to his lips, and blew. A deep, booming call rang out across the whole of Elfland, and as two demons approached him, Dean proclaimed:
“I am Dean Winchester. I come to the Dark Tower to speak with Azazel, King of Elfland!”
“And what makes you think he wants to speak to you?” One of the demons asked, its teeth glinting.
“I bring him a gift-this Slughorn, made from the bones of the last dragon ever to set foot in my land. It is a symbol of the union I wish to forge between our two worlds.”
“A union?” The other demon smiled. “The King does not form ‘unions.’ He takes by force. He does not share.”
“Then I don’t wish to share. I wish to give him my lands entirely, and beg…beg…” he couldn’t think of the word. All that time spent in Quest classes, learning how to speak, the right language to use…he couldn’t think.
“Beg for what?”
“Clemency.” That’s it. “I wish to beg the King for clemency. May he be merciful.”
The demons both laughed, opening the door to the Tower. Dean dismounted, facing the demons. “Thank you,” he said, before pulling out his sword and striking, chopping off both of their heads in one. He turned to Impala, patting her nose. “Stay out of sight,” he whispered. “I’ll be back.” With that, he ran into the Tower.
Inside, he found himself in a narrow stone passageway. It was dark, too dark to see, so Dean placed his hands on the cool walls and felt his way forwards. After a while, his hands fell upon wood, raised in some parts. It had to be a door, Dean thought, and so he pushed against it, hard. It swung open, and there before him had to be the most breathtaking sight Dean had ever seen.
It was a grand hall, as wide as it was long, with a roof supported by pairs of large, ornate pillars along its length. They were covered with gold and silver, and around them hung wreaths of bright flowers that seemed to sparkle. Arches met in the middle of the roof, covered with clusters of what looked like diamonds and rubies. In the very middle of the room, hanging by a thick gold chain was a lamp, made from a huge, hollowed-out pearl that gave an early, transparent glow.
A large, oak table stood at the far end of the room, two thrones on either side. Sitting on one side, resplendent in the robes of a prince, was Castiel.
Dean’s heart practically sang at the sight of his friend, alive. He ran over to him, shouting, “Cas! Cas, oh thank heaven you’re ok!”
But Castiel said nothing. He merely looked at Dean, expression blank, unrecognizing, before turning his eyes away and staring straight ahead of him.
“Cas?” Dean said cautiously. Castiel didn’t reply. “Cas it’s me, it’s Dean.” He reached out, wanting to touch Castiel’s face but before his hand to make contact with his skin, Castiel’s eyes darkened and he turned towards him, hissing. It was then Dean could see Castiel’s teeth, transformed, sharp, pointed.
“He will not recognize you, Childe Winchester,” a voice said behind him, and Dean turned so see a man smiling at him. He was dressed in the clothes of a King, with a crown on top of his head. He smiled darkly, revealing row upon row of sharp pointed teeth.
“Who the hell are you?”
The creature smiled. “I am the King of Elfland. I am the person you seek.”
“Then let him go,” Dean said darkly. “Let him go or I will kill you.”
The King laughed. “Oh my, Childe. You don’t understand. Castiel does not want to leave.” He walked over to Castiel, and angled his head towards him. Their lips crashed together, Castiel at once animated and eager, moaning in the back of his throat as he kissed the King deeply, desperately, like he was the very air he breathed.
Dean felt sick to his stomach, yet couldn’t turn his eyes away. Eventually the King pulled away, smiling. “You see, he doesn’t want to go back with you. He wants to stay here with me.” Dean looked towards Castiel again, seeing that he had once again resumed his position at the table, staring straight ahead of him with dark eyes.
“He’s under a spell.” Dean said. “You’ve enchanted him. He would never…he’s an honorable man. Let him go.”
“You seem to have trouble understanding, Childe. Castiel does not want to go. I will not let him go.”
Dean stared at the creature sitting at the table, the person he once loved, that he still loved. “Then take me.”
“Excuse me?”
“Take me. Let him go, and I will take his place. Take me, use me as you will.”
“Oh, the legendary Winchester self-sacrifice. News of your family travels even here. Well I’m sorry, Childe, but I already have what I want. Now leave, get out of here.”
“No,” said Dean defiantly. “I’m not leaving here. You’re not getting away with this.” He drew his sword, glinting in the light of the hall, and pointed it towards the King. “Last chance. Let him go.”
The King smiled, drawing his own sword from his cloak. “I never wanted this to end in bloodshed, but you’ve forced my hand. Prepare to die, Childe Winchester.” The King struck first, aiming a blow to Dean’s head which Dean immediately parried, their swords clashing together harshly. They moved away from the table and into the centre of the hall, dancing around each other as their swords flashed. Dean aimed a blow to the King’s solar plexus, but he successfully blocked, trying to twist the sword out of Dean’s hand without success.
“You have a firm grip, Childe. You must have been taught well.”
Dean ducked as the King swung for his head, leaning forwards to try and pierce the King’s heart only to be blocked. “Don’t patronize me,” Dean panted, swinging his sword.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the King replied. He aimed his sword, catching Dean unawares. Fortunately, it was the wrong angle, so the only damage done was a deep cut to Dean’s thigh. Dean hissed in pain, turning away for a brief second before striking back, missing the King entirely. The King laughed, realizing that Dean was tiring, weakened after his long journey. As Dean moved forward, the King stepped away and Dean tripped, falling to the ground. He lay there, watching as the King aimed his final, killer blow, when his eyes flicked towards the table, towards Castiel.
Castiel was watching him intently, his eyes still dark. There was a change to his expression-before it was impassive, now it was sad, imploring him to do his duty, to help him. With renewed strength Dean rolled over just as the King struck down, and leaped to his feet. As the King collected himself to turn around, Dean managed to knock him down to the floor, the point of his sword sticking in the King’s fragile neck.
“Let him go.” Dean said, “Or I will kill you.”
“Stupid Childe,” the King spat. “The only way to free him from this place is to kill me. And yet, kill me, and all of my children die, including your precious Castiel.”
“You’re lying.”
“Try me. You know it to be true.”
Dean stayed there, frozen. The King had to die, but if he killed him, Castiel would die too. Keep the King alive, and Castiel would stay enchanted, transformed forever. But he couldn’t…he couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t.
He looked up, his eyes meeting Castiel’s. Castiel’s eyes shone, a small glimmer of cerulean in amongst the dark. His eyes were wide, almost pleading. It was like the real Castiel was inside there, trying with all his might to get Dean to do the right thing. Castiel, his Castiel, the man he knew, would rather die than let evil spread.
A tear fell down Dean’s face, as he mouthed, “I’m sorry.” With one swing, his sword cut through the King’s neck, killing him instantly. All around him, Elfland shook, the screams of thousands of vampires and demons ringing in his ears.
As he stood up, a horrible, gut-churning scream throughout the hall. Castiel had slumped to the floor, clutching his stomach in pain.
“Cas!” Dean shouted, rushing over to him. He knelt down beside him, pulling him into his lap. Castiel blinked, his eyes once more a beautiful, sapphire blue.
“Dean,” he coughed.
“Cas I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I couldn’t…” Tears were streaming down Dean’s face, falling onto Castiel’s clothes.
“Dean,” Castiel managed. “Thank you.”
“But…”
“You did the right thing.”
“But Cas,” the tears were getting worse. He’d failed. He’d given up a Quest to save his friend, the man he loved, and he’d failed.
“No. Dean. Thank you.”
“No, Cas, I…”
“Please. I need…I have to tell you something, before...”
“But Cas…”
“You saved me, Dean. Saved me from a life of solitude with your friendship. You taught me what it meant to love, Dean. To love you. All my life I… I knew I would…I would have loved you till the day I died. I’m so glad I was right.” He closed his eyes.
And then suddenly, in the midst of despair, Dean knew what to do. It was as if his whole life had been leading up to this, this one moment. It felt like a flame had started in his heart, travelling through his veins and arteries and setting fire to his whole body. He leaned down, felt Castiel’s shallow, labored breathing, and pressed his lips against his.
The fire in his body felt like an inferno now. He could feel it escaping from his lips, transferring to Castiel and infusing his whole body with its flame. He felt Castiel’s lips move, and as the kiss deepened, Castiel became more animated, began to respond and move with Dean’s kiss. His arms wrapped around him, gripping him tight and when the kiss ended, Castiel was smiling, looking more alive than ever.
“Dean,” he said.
“Cas,” said Dean, wiping the wetness from his face.
“I spent a lot of time imagining our first kiss,” Castiel whispered, still clinging to Dean. “Don’t think it ever went like that.”
Dean kissed him again, feeling Castiel get stronger with each press of lips, with each stroke of his tongue. A loud crash sounded outside, making Castiel pull away. “We have to go,” he said.
Dean nodded. He stood up, pulling Castiel with him and running to the door at the far end of the hall. “Do you have your sword?” He asked Castiel.
“It was taken away from me when the King brought me here.”
Dean nodded. “Ok. Stay close. I’ll protect you.”
“Always, Dean,” Castiel replied, smiling.
The King of Elfland was not quite right. The vampires of Elfland lay dying, but the demons, though few, were still healthy and intent on exacting revenge on the killer of their master. Dean ran through the passageway with Castiel close behind him, crashing through it and swinging his sword at every demon he saw. Pam’s words still echoed in his head, and he was determined not to let any demon who crossed his path survive.
They exited the passage, confronted by four demons all holding swords. As they swung, Dean could see that they were slow, lacking strength and technique. He heard a cracking sound behind him, and turned quickly to see Castiel had aimed a brutal kick to a demon’s head, making him drop his sword. Castiel grabbed it, swinging to cut the demon’s head off, before turning to face the other three with Dean.
“Good job,” Dean said.
“I have my uses,” Castiel replied, blocking a strike from a demon. Dean ducked, thrusting his sword forwards and catching a demon in the stomach. The creature yelped and fell to the floor, while Castiel struck and chopped of its head before it could even hit the ground.
Dean smiled. “We make a great team.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Castiel, returning the smile. Dean successfully blocked a blow to Castiel’s head, before quickly striking and dispatching the demon. The remaining creature stood still, staring at them, eyes flicking from one to the other. In a flash, it threw down its sword and ran, leaving the way clear for Dean and Castiel.
Dean searched for Impala. When he couldn’t locate her, he grabbed the Slughorn, lifting it to his lips. The sound resonated across the whole of Elfland, drowning out the sounds of dying vampires and screaming demons. He caught sight of Impala, trotting towards him. She whinnied in appreciation, and leaned in to Castiel so he could pat her heard. “It’s good to see you too, girl,” he said.
Dean mounted her quickly, with Castiel jumping on right behind him. He stared ahead of him, vision full of screaming creatures, of smoke and fire. He shivered, wondering how in the world he could make it out of this place alive when all of a sudden, he felt arms around him. Castiel held him tightly, leaning in to him and suddenly Dean knew he had to go on, had to get out of here and get back home.
With a sharp kick, Impala galloped away, somehow instinctively knowing the way out of Elfland. As they galloped, Dean leaned over his right and began swinging his sword, killing any demon who dared to come near. Castiel did the same on the opposite site, which the screams and the sounds of destruction rang out across the land. All around them was chaos-black smoke, fire, ash swirling in the air as the wind increased, howling across the plain.
Impala continued on, back to the gap in the two hills. She was nearly there, nearly free when her leg caught something and she tripped, sending Dean and Castiel flying. They hit the ground, Dean face first and on his knees. When le looked up he saw a female demon standing in front of him, smiling. He eyes were black, her hair hung about her face like rats tails, and her teeth glinted in the yellow light of burning Elfland.
“Thought you were free, didn’t you?” she sneered. Dean tried to reach for his sword, but she stamped on his hand, making him yelp. “Destroy my land and expect to get away with it?”
“Don’t,” Dean began, but he could see her pick up his sword and dangle it above his head.
“ I hope Hell is welcoming,” she said, about to strike. Dean closed his eyes, hearing the sound of metal cutting through flesh. When he opened them, he saw the headless body slump to the floor, Castiel standing behind it, panting.
“Consider us even,” he said, helping Dean up.
Dean grabbed Impala who was limping slightly, and stroked her mane. “I know you’re hurt, but you need to get us out of here,” he whispered. “Can you do that?”
Impala grunted. Dean lifted himself up, helping Castiel behind him, and they set off. Finally, after a few agonizing minutes, they reached the gap, navigated their way through it, and came out the other side.
They continued on until they reached the start of the marshes, Dean at pains to ensure they were safe before they bedded down for the night. They managed to find some firmer ground, with enough grass for Impala to eat and regain her strength. Castiel used the demon’s sword to hack at a tree stump, managing to gather enough lumps of wood and kindling to start a fire.
They sat, bathed in the warm comforting glow of the fire, eating the rest of Dean’s food.
“So,” Castiel began. “Your Quest.”
“I didn’t take it.” Dean said flatly.
Castiel’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I didn’t take it. I gave it to Chuck. Saving you…saving you was more important.” Dean could feel himself going red.
Castiel looked down. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve such a sacrifice.”
Dean stared at him, right in the eyes. “Yes. Yes you do. Given the choice, I would do exactly the same again.”
“But you’ll never become a Knight. You’ll never get to prove yourself. I’m not worth that.”
“You are. I couldn’t have lived with myself knowing you were trapped there, under the King’s spell forever. I…” he shuddered, not wanting to think about it. “I love you. Always have. My life…wouldn’t have been worth living without you in it.”
He could feel himself blushing again, not being used to talking about his feelings without being emboldened by alcohol. He looked down, trying to find something interesting in the grass before looking up to find himself staring directly into Castiel’s eyes. Castiel leaned forward, capturing his mouth and they kissed slowly, softly.
Dean moved his arms, placing one hand on Castiel’s cheek and the other at the small of his back as they kissed, the kiss becoming deeper, harder, almost desperate. All those years of silent longing, of wanting but not knowing if he were wanted in return were brushed away with that kiss until finally they broke apart, panting and smiling.
As the night wore on, kisses turned to caresses, clothes being shed as caresses turned into touches slow and soft, mapping out each other’s bodies and calling out their pleasure in the dying embers of the fire. They slept together, warm, sated, safe in each other’s arms until the dawning of the sun woke them.
There was no time for breakfast. Instead, they loaded up Impala as quickly as possible and set off on the journey home. The lands seemed strange, almost transformed as they made their way back. The river saw no wailing men at its banks, no bodies below the surface. It was as though the land was changing, finally being able to breathe after so many years of suffocation.
It was strange how much shorter the journey seemed now that Dean knew Castiel was safe. His stomach wound itself in knots with the excitement of seeing Sam again, of reuniting Castiel with Gabriel, and recounting the tale of his journey. Most of all, he was excited to be on the cusp of the rest of his life, of finally just being with the man he loved without having to adhere to tradition. He’d given up his Quest; he had no obligations in that respect and could therefore do what he wanted.
Which is when it hit him. Castiel still hadn’t had his Quest. He would still have to find his True Love, which meant Dean…Dean would have no one. His heart clenched and he tensed. To go back to Kansas would mean losing Castiel, yet if he didn’t, he would never see his brother again.
Castiel must have felt the tension in his body, as cool lips touched his neck. “What are you thinking?” He asked, kissing a trail up to that sensitive spot below Dean’s ear.
“Nothing,” Dean lied.
He could feel Castiel sigh. “You know,” Castiel said, kissing his way down his neck, “I wonder what my Quest will be in the end?”
Dean tensed again, and he felt Castiel’s hands grip him tighter. “I don’t…” he began.
“It doesn’t matter,” Castiel interrupted. “Because I won’t do it.”
“Cas,” Dean began. It was alright for him to throw away his future, make that decision because Childe Winchester was well known for having a reckless streak, but he didn’t want Castiel to do the same.
“I won’t do it,” Castiel repeated. “I have everything I want right here. I don’t need to be a Knight, and I certainly don’t need a Quest to find my True Love. He’s already here.”
Dean sighed. “Cas…I’m not…you know how it works.”
“I do, and I’m choosing to reject that. You are everything I need, Dean, and to know there’s a chance I can have you…I’m going to take it. I don’t care what the consequences are, because what I gain will far outstrip them.”
Dean felt as though his heart were going to burst. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” Castiel replied, kissing his way back up Dean’s neck. “I’ve spent a long time loving you. I’m not giving this up now.”
They continued on, approaching the familiar fork in the road. Dean looked around for the old man with a malicious glint in his eye, but he was strangely nowhere to be seen. They stopped to eat, with Dean recounting the vision of the twisted old man here. Castiel mused that he may have been some kind of spirit, there to make Dean doubt he was on the right path. It seemed strange that the King of Elfland would have gone to such lengths but then, with Pam’s warning ringing in his ears, Dean mused that perhaps anything was possible.
Impala was shifting from hoof to hoof as they finished their meal, impatient. It was as though she could smell Kansas, and was desperate to get back there. Dean surmised that they were 12 hours away from home at walking pace; he’d have liked to have gone faster, but with Impala’s leg as it was, she was in no fit state to gallop. They pushed on for another couple of hours before finding shelter in a wooded area, trees all around with a river running through it.
There, he spent a second night with Castiel wrapped in his arms, staring up at the stars in the night sky and thanking them for keeping him and Castiel safe, and for giving him this chance of happiness. When morning came they set off early, estimating the ride to be about 10 hours, meaning they could get back to Kansas by late afternoon.
Dean was excited, desperate to see his family again and return triumphant, but he still had nagging doubts. He had sought and gained King Michael’s blessing for this journey, flying off without really thinking about the consequences of his actions. What if he couldn’t remain a Childe forever? What if in giving up his Quest he would be banished from the King’s table, have to find an occupation to pay for his home and his family?
Again, he felt soothing lips caress the back on his neck, slowly making their way up and around to his ear. It didn’t matter; of course it didn’t. As long as he had Castiel, and Sam and his family, he would be happy no matter what he did.
The hours rolled on and the scenery became more and more familiar to the both of them. Impala was impatient to break into a gallop, knowing she was nearly home, and Dean had to wrestle with the reigns slightly to stop her. He didn’t want her damaging her leg further, not when they were so close to home.
Dean was on familiar ground now, so he steered Impala to the right and up an embankment that he knew overlooked Kansas. A few more steps and there, sprawling out before them, was his home. Fifteen minutes and he would be there, and yet he paused, rummaging around in one of Impala’s saddle bags until he pulled out the Slughorn. He turned to grin at Castiel, who merely rolled his eyes. He was Dean Winchester after all; he had to make a big entrance.
He put the horn to his lips and blew, the sound resonating around the valley. Tiny figures in the distance stopped what they were doing and stared, wondering what the noise was about. Dean smiled to himself, handed Castiel the horn to pack away while he guided Impala down. She broke out into a trot, making her way towards the entrance of Kansas where people were already lining the way. By the time they got there quite the crowd had gathered, cheering as they saw Dean triumphant with Castiel safe beside him.
Dean couldn’t help smiling as he waved, looking at the faces of the cheering crowds. “Childe Winchester has returned victorious!” people shouted. It was a little over the top and ordinarily Dean would have been embarrassed by the display, but he was too happy. He dismounted, helping Castiel down who was trying his best to cope with people putting their hands on him, asking him if he was ok and how he had survived his ordeal. He dealt with it with good grace, and when Dean turned to look at him, their eyes met and they both smiled.
“CASTIEL!” came a loud voice over the crowd. It was Gabriel, with Jophiel in tow. He practically barreled into Castiel, gathering the taller man into his arms and squeezing him. “I’m so glad you’re ok. Never…never do that again, do you hear me?”
“I would do it all again in an instant if it meant Jophiel was safe,” Castiel replied, and Dean watched as Gabriel hugged him even tighter. He watched as Castiel extricated himself from Gabriel’s arms only to be attacked by Jophiel, who flung his arms around him and sobbed into his shirt. “Shhh, it’s ok. It’s ok,” he whispered into the boy’s shoulder. “ I’m safe now. There’s no need to worry.”
“Dean!”
Dean turned quickly to see Sam running towards him, pulling him into a large hug. “You made it!”
“Of course I did, Sammy. Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“I…just…You’re safe. You saved Cas and you’re safe. Jess and I were so…”
“I know, I know,” said Dean, squeezing Sam before letting go. “I’m here, Cas is safe and…”
“Childe Winchester.”
The crowd fell silent all of a sudden. Dean turned, so see King Michael looking at him. He instantly moved closer to Castiel.
“Childe Novak. It is good to see you safe. Are you well?”
“Indeed I am, Sir.” Castiel replied, bowing a little.
“And you, Childe Winchester? How are you?”
“I’m good, Sir. Very good. Tired, but otherwise fine.”
The King nodded. “Ah yes, a journey like yours will definitely make a man tired. You should rest for a while. Later this evening, there will be a celebration for the both of you but for now, go home and sleep.”
Castiel nodded. “Thank you, Sir.”
The King smiled and turned, ready to walk away.
“Wait!” Dean called and the King paused, turning back to look at Dean.
“Yes?”
“A celebration?” Dean asked, curious. “There isn’t normally a celebration for rescuing a fellow Childe?”
The King nodded. “You don’t think we should celebrate adding two new Knights to our realm? You want us to break thousands of years of tradition?”
Dean looked at Castiel, confused. Castiel shrugged his shoulders in an ‘I don’t know what’s going on’ gesture, before they both looked back at the King.
“I’m sorry?” Said Dean.
“Two Childes have completed their Quests and returned victorious. They have finally graduated to become Knights and we should celebrate.”
It finally clicked with Dean, and he widened his eyes in shock. “But the paper…Princess Elisa…” he turned to seek out Chuck, who was holding hands with a pretty brunette that had to be the princess. “I…”
The King smiled. “Quests come in many forms,” he began. “Some on rolled up pieces of paper, and others out of necessity. What you assumed was your Quest was obviously not meant to be, given that you had another, more important matter to attend to.”
“But…”
“And attend to it you did. You saved Castiel, defeated the King of Elfland, and found your True Love.”
There was a gasp from the audience. Dean looked again to Castiel, who was stood there rigid in shock.
“I trust you did indeed find your True Love?”
Dean nodded. “Yes,” he said, looking into Castiel’s eyes. “He was with me all the time.”
“And Childe Novak, who gave himself up selflessly for the sake of his nephew, who went to Elfland in his place, suffered under the King of Elfland and came out alive. I trust you found your True Love also?”
Castiel smiled. “I did,” he said, eyes shining. He extended his hand to Dean who took it immediately. “I truly did.”
The crowd erupted into cheers. Dean gathered Castiel to him and kissed him, held him close and felt as through his heart would burst with happiness. He looked around at the smiling faces of the crowd; saw Gabriel and Jophiel smiling and cheering at them, saw Sam with what looked like a tear in his eye as he smiled and clapped them both.
Castiel felt warm and safe in his arms, a comfort he had always yearned for but never knew he could have. They kissed again amongst more cheering, before King Michael announced that the crowd should disperse and begin preparations for the evening’s celebration.
“What do you want to do now?” Dean whispered to Castiel as their lips parted.
“I wish,” Castiel began with a glint in his eye, “I wish for you to take me to bed, Sir Winchester.”
Dean smiled. “Your wish is my command, Sir Novak.”
And needless to say, they lived happily ever after.
~The End~