Fic: The Teind on All Hallows' Eve (3/3)
Part II
The other guards were acting like there was nothing different. Adair was acting like it was a normal day, like he hadn't given Sam away, given him to Black Annis for helping Linda go free.
Sam didn't understand, and he honestly didn't care. He just wanted to get through the day and then go see Dean again. Dean had promised to be there.
He stood in his place in line, holding his lance lightly. There was total silence, not even a hobgoblin moving to make him wary. Everyone knew Linda had escaped the queen's power, and nobody wanted to be the one to anger her. Black Annis was standing behind the throne as always. More than once her dark eyes, sparkling with malice, caught Sam's.
When the queen finally got up to leave, Sam knelt with the others. He saw the swishing of her skirt as she came down the steps.
She stopped in front of him.
"Sam."
Sam looked up. Queen Mab was one of the most beautiful fairies who had ever lived. Compared to Black Annis, who was a step behind her, she looked like a vision of perfection. But her glittering eyes were hard, and her luscious red lips were tilted in a cruel smirk.
"I will see you in my private audience chamber in ten minutes."
Sam's blood ran cold.
He only waited long enough to take off his helm and armour and put away his lance before he ran to the queen's apartments. The guards who let him in were looking at him with open pity.
Sam turned away from the unwanted sympathy of their gazes and went to the small rug in front of the cold hearth to wait.
When he heard the queen's footsteps outside the door, he went down to one knee.
She came in, saying carelessly, "Rise."
Sam stood. Queen Mab had changed from the formal robes of court into a loose gauzy dress that made her look much more like a mortal depiction of a fairy. But in her hands she held her sceptre - the sceptre, and Sam shivered, though there was nothing more it could take from him.
"You remember this, Sam?"
Sam remembered. He remembered it touching him, remembered the white-hot pain in his chest as the bond was forged that would tie him to it, and therefore the fairy queen, for the entirety of his immortal life.
"You know your soul is mine, Sam, and yet you've been trying to give it to a mortal." She looked at him. "Well? Do you deny it?"
Sam pressed his lips together. Whatever she did to him, he wasn't going to deny Dean.
"Foolish Sam. It's not easy to a free a soul from my sceptre. You'd never have been able to do it even if you'd lived long enough. Sadly for you, you'll never have the chance to find out." She smiled. "I had a message from the King of Hell, Sam. He's asked for you as the teind this year. He asked for you by name. If you'd been a true and loyal knight I might have refused, but…" She laughed, silvery and terrible. "Enjoy your last weeks on earth Sam. On All Hallows' Eve I'll give your soul to the demon King of Hell."
"And she's going to do it!" Sam rested his forehead on Dean's knee, wishing he dared to meet his eyes. "She's going to give me to Hell for the teind."
Dean's fingers stroked through his hair, tracing up and down the tips of his pointed ears. Sam's wings were beating faster than a hummingbird's, but he couldn't stop them. Sam was clutching at Dean's shirt, the only thing keeping his body from lifting off the ground with the force of his wings.
Dean hadn't said a word since Sam had arrived. He'd let him talk, works tumbling one over the other. Now, finally, Sam had nothing more to say, nothing more to do except hope for a miracle.
"Don't worry," said Dean.
Sam looked up to demand how he was supposed to not worry when he was going to be given to the King of Hell as a toy, but Dean shook his head.
"Listen to me. I know about the current King of Hell and he is far, far from the worst there is down there. And I know that not even the worst he can do will be enough to break you." Dean bent, whispering his next words. "But it doesn't matter, because it's not going to come to that. I won't let anyone take you. You hear me? I will keep you safe."
"You can't."
Sam started at the sound of Adair's voice, wings going still. He turned to look at his former friend, very glad for the hand Dean kept on his shoulder.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to take you back, Sam. I'm sure you're angry with me, and I'm not surprised, though I don't think you would have done anything different in my place. We can't disobey Queen Mab, and you know that. She's expecting you back."
Sam shrugged. "Not like she can do anything worse to me now."
"Sam, you still have three weeks before All Hallows' Eve. She might change her mind. Even if she doesn't, your last three weeks can be pleasant - or she can give you to Black Annis. You might as well use the time you have."
"Wait," Dean said. "Three weeks? Hallowe'en is in three days."
Adair shrugged. "Mortal time is slower. Sam, are you coming?"
"No." Sam settled back against Dean's legs. Adair's coming had given him courage, in an odd way, as though it had reminded him of what was important. "No, I'm not. If I only have a little time left, I want to spend it with Dean."
"Sam." Adair looked frustrated. "Come on. Come with me. We can try to persuade the queen to forgive you."
"And then what?" Sam asked. "She's going to give someone to Hell every seven years. I'm not going to spend eternity in fear that next time it might be me!"
"Nobody's giving you to Hell," Dean said firmly.
Adair scowled. "The queen has a claim on his soul."
"So do I!"
"I know, but -"
"You know?" Sam demanded. "You - you knew Dean was my brother?" Adair's eyes widened, but he didn't deny it. "You knew. And you never told me."
"I was trying to help you, Sam. What good would it have done to get attached to Dean? What good has it done? All you've managed to do is damn your own soul because of him."
"Hey!" Dean yelled. "Nobody's getting Sam's soul! You - are you Adair?" He went on without waiting for a response. "Sam said you might know how to free a soul."
"I would never tell you that."
"Of course you will, because if you don't, if your queen actually manages to give my brother to the King of Hell, I will not rest until I've hunted down every last fairy in the world and killed them all. And I'll start withyou."
Adair looked from Sam to Dean. "Do you really think you can save him? It's not easy."
"I know I can."
"And you want to give up what you have, Sam? There's plenty of time for Queen Mab to change her mind. If we can persuade her to be merciful, you'll be immortal, a member of the Queen's guard - you could rise high in the Unseelie court."
Sam felt Dean stiffen, but he already knew his answer.
"I don't want immortality," he said. "I want to be with my brother."
Adair sighed. "All right. I must be insane to do this, but… all right." He sat on a fallen log opposite Sam and Dean. "A long, long time ago, there was an elf called Tam Lin."
After Adair left, Dean sat rubbing Sam's head for several minutes before he said, "So… Scottish well water."
"Do you know where to get it?"
"Shouldn't be too hard. There's a pretty big Wiccan centre a couple of towns over. They have loads of crap like that. Hand-weaving a cloak for you… is probably going to be more complicated, but I'll find a way. I'm sure they have some handicrafts classes or… or something. I'll figure it out, Sam."
"I know."
"But…" Dean's hand left his head. "You know this means I can't see you for a while, right? I need to get working on this stuff. It'll take me all the time between now and midnight on Hallowe'en to do it. That'll be a few weeks for you."
"Three weeks." Sam's throat felt dry. "Three weeks until All Hallows' Eve."
Dean tugged at Sam's arm. Sam shifted, getting up on his knees so he could look Dean in the eye.
"I'll be there," Dean said firmly. "Never doubt that. There's nothing, nothing, that's more important to me than you are. Whatever it takes, I'll be there with the well water and the cloak and everything else. Trust me."
Sam nodded. "I do."
"Now you need to go back and act like nothing's changed. Be careful around Black Annis, suck up to the queen, do what you have to do. I will come for you."
Despite himself, Sam was nervous as he worked his wings through the slits in his back plate and laced it to the cuirass. It had been almost three weeks since he'd said goodbye to Dean in the fairy wood. Three weeks of standing guard in court and sitting at feasts while people whispered around him and offered him commiseration he didn't want. Three weeks of hoping, desperately, that Dean would be there, and then feeling guilty for doubting him.
At Adair's insistence, he had gone to plead his case to Queen Mab, but she had only laughed and told him nobody could renege on a deal with the King of Hell, not even her.
After he had his gorget on, he took a large kerchief Dean had given him and knotted it loosely around his neck. It was unconventional for elf knights to wear a favour - Queen Mab certainly never gave out any - but there had to be some way for Dean to recognize him amidst the troop of helmeted elves.
He slipped on his gauntlets, picked up his helm, and went out to the courtyard.
Belladonna was saddled and ready. Whatever happened to him, she would be cared for. Queen Mab could be cruel to her subjects, but she was good to animals. That was something.
"Sam," Adair said softly, coming up next to him. "Good luck. I… I'm sure Dean will be there."
"Thanks."
"And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me, but… You've been my friend. No matter what happens today, I don't think we'll be seeing each other again. I'll miss you."
Sam nodded, throat too tight to speak.
Things moved quickly after that. They were mounted, they had their helms on, and then they were going out the great gate three by three, riding through the dusk. For this one hour in mortal time and fairy time together, the knights of the fairy queen trooped to their meeting with the servants of the King of Hell.
Sam's heart beat faster the closer they got until he was certain everyone could hear it. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not daring to look around and give Dean away.
And then, in the road ahead, he could see the great hole in the ground. Fire was licking through it. They would be there in minutes.
Sam forced himself not to clench his fist around the reins.
Something hit him hard enough to knock him off his horse. He was on the ground, still clutching his lance out of reflex, when he was pulled up and his helm tugged off. He had just a moment to meet Dean's eyes, and then his brother, one hand around Sam's upper arm, was turning to the very angry fairy queen.
"Queen Mab," Dean said clearly, "You cannot have Sam Winchester. He is my brother and I have a claim on his soul."
"Rash mortal!" said Queen Mab. "Do you come between the fairy queen and her chosen?"
"You will not have my brother," Dean said. "I have a claim on his soul." Dean paused, and then said for the third time, "I have a claim on his soul."
Queen Mab's eyes narrowed. "If it's his soul you want, then I'm sure you won't mind if I change his body."
Sam felt his skin rippling, his bones breaking, expanding, and reforming. His armour was flying off as the laces broke, followed by his tunic and his breeches and boots.
Sam screamed. Before he ran out of breath, his scream turned into a roar.
Sam didn't need a mirror to know he'd been turned into a bear. He roared again, out of his mind with pain and frustration, and then he remembered Dean. He couldn't feel Dean's hands anymore. Surely - surely - his brother hadn't been scared away.
But no; there he was when Sam turned his head, and he didn't look scared at all. His fingers were in Sam's thick fur, though Sam couldn't feel them.
"I've got you," Dean said, smiling at him.
Sam nosed at Dean's chest, the only way he could communicate.
Dean laughed.
Then Sam felt the fire in his bones again. He thrashed with the agony of it but Dean's grip never loosened, not even when Sam settled into the form of a great maned lion, roaring up at the first stars.
"I've got you," Dean whispered, his arms wrapped around Sam's neck.
Sam's body was shrinking, his voice as he roared dwindling into a low hiss. He writhed, feeling himself lash against Dean's grip.
Dean - Dean.
Dean only held Sam tighter as he turned into a snake. Sam wrapped his tail around Dean's wrist, hissing happily when Dean tickled him under his chin.
He was changing again. Sam could feel himself shrinking, his bones turning to metal. He was burning, and this had to be Hell because every part of him was wracked with pain -
There was a sharp snap, and water cascaded over him. It smelled terrible - it must be old. But that didn't matter because Sam could smell. His limbs were lengthening again, damp hair sticking to his forehead. He gasped and breathed in beautiful air. He could feel his heart pumping warm, human blood.
He gasped again when he realized his clothes had been torn off by his transformations, but already Dean was covering him with something made of rough spun material. It smelt like Dean - like home - and Sam gathered it close with trembling fingers. Just touching the cloak Dean had made for him made him remember everything he'd forgotten as an elf, remember weeks - years - of life with his brother.
"Sam?" Dean asked anxiously. "Sam, are you OK? You with me?"
Sam smiled at him. "Yeah."
"You think to take one of my knights from me?" shrieked Queen Mab. "Nobody takes my servants!"
Sam moved, scrambling for his dropped lance, at the same time Dean pushed himself in front of Sam. They were both too late; Mab's sceptre was already coming down -
And it was interrupted by another lance, which knocked it out of Mab's hands and sent it flying through the air. One of the flames licking out of the open path to hell caught it. It exploded in a supernova of white light.
Mab turned on Adair, who had removed his helm and was kneeling in front of her.
"What have you done?"
"What somebody should have had the courage to do a long time ago," Adair said. "You were a great queen, a beloved queen, until you turned to that sceptre of fear and Black Annis who gave it to you. If you truly want to rule by fear, I know she will make you another. But can you not remember the days when the elf knights came to serve in your guard because they loved you, and not because they feared your hag or the threat of the teind? I remember those days, my queen. They were glorious."
"Excuse me," said another voice. Sam, still clutching his cloak with both hands, saw two men make their way up the road. "This is very touching and all, but you can discuss fairy politics later. We're here to collect the king's due."
"The king's due?" Mab turned to face the approaching demons.
"He thought there might be problems. He wanted me to tell you that if he doesn't get his tithe, he's going to come for you and take your crown."
"Your upstart ruler thinks he can take my crown?" Mab's brows were drawing down. "The bargain I struck was with Lucifer. Does your king think I'm some unschooled conjuror he can threaten into submission? I am Mab, Queen of the Unseelie. I have power your king cannot imagine. If he wants my crown, let him come and take it."
Mab clapped her hands. The portal to Hell closed.
"If I see you again," she told the demons, "I will march on Hell with all my knights. Let your king beware of angering the fairy queen."
She turned to Dean.
"You took a fine knight from me."
"With all due respect," Dean said, squeezing Sam's shoulder, "he was my brother before he was your knight."
With a curt nod, Mab turned and rode away. Adair met Sam's eyes for a second before he followed.
Sam leaned heavily against Dean, wanting nothing more than to let his brother take him to a bar and get him drunk, but unable to tear his eyes from the sight of the elf guard riding past. Less than an hour ago he'd been one of them. It seemed impossible.
"I guess you're going to miss them," Dean said quietly.
Sam laughed. "Not even a little bit. Maybe it's fun for the ones who were born elves, or fairies or whatever, but… I always felt like something was missing, you know? Or someone."
"Shut up, Sam. Trust you to trick me into a chick-flick moment."
But Dean's arm stayed tight around Sam's shoulders until the last of the elves had vanished into the distance.
"So," Dean said, "I guess you want to get back to the motel and get some real clothes."
"I don't know. I kind of like the magic anti-fairy-spell cloak my big brother made me."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Sam." He paused. "Um… you're going to keep the cloak? Not… not get rid of it or anything?"
Sam smiled so hard his cheeks ached. "It's perfect, Dean. Of course I'm going to keep it."
For anyone who hasn't figured it out yet, the folktale in question is Janet and Tam Lin. I took some liberties, of course, adding Queen Mab and Black Annis to the story, but they seemed to fit, and who am I to argue with the fairy queen?
For why I gave the elves wings, I don't really have an explanation. I guess I just wanted them to match the fairies, and also I liked the idea of Sam's wings going double-time to show emotion.
In short: If we shadows have offended and all that. ;-)