I Know What a Prince and Lover Ought to Be Part 2- J2 - NC-17

[hizashikage]

Navigation: Master Post | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Jensen escorts his sister Mackenzie into the grand reception hall. Grand reception halls are rarely as stunning as the name makes them out to be, but the reception hall in the palace in Koren by the Sea is brilliant. Easily twice the size of their reception hall at home, the ceiling sweeps away in a high series of arches. The walls are not so much stone as glittering glass: diamond-paned windows, arching up two or three stories, and what stone there is seems to be placed merely so the glass has something to be set in. One sparkling wall overlooks the sea, as promised in the kingdom's name, and the sun streaks in over water that glints almost as much as the windowpanes above it. The opposite wall opens onto a formal garden fast falling into evening shadow that is surrounded by a strong castle wall. Defensible, Jensen thinks; the side to the sea doesn't need a wall, because the cliff is so sheer, the palace running right up to the edge. The effect is stunning.

Strung down from the ceiling are five elaborate chandeliers, each holding at least a hundred candles; their flames flicker and throw the reliefs worked into the ceiling into a frenzy of dancing light and shadow. Along the glass walls at each stone support are more mundane torches, unlit at the moment, as the sunset sets the majority of the room ablaze; servants wait patiently nearby for the signal to light the torches, a show of both grandeur and strength. The bride-to-be, Sophia, sits at the far end of the hall, with the family that has been fostering her; as first cousins, Jensen and his family will join her there after they've made formal greetings. Jensen and Mackenzie are followed by their brother, heir apparent, and behind him come their parents, king and queen of the kingdom of Ackles. The new wool shirt Jensen is wearing itches--still, after four years, used to lighter linen used to make clothing appropriate for the warmer climate in Harris--and the collar is too tight. However, nothing but bland pleasure shows on Jensen's face.

The envoy from Padalecki has arrived already. Jensen can see the crown prince in the crowd waiting near the groom. They spent some time together at a hunt in Welling a year ago. He wasn't friendly, but then, neither was Jensen. The pack of big hunting dogs he brought with him ran seven of the eleven deer they killed to ground. The younger brother, Jared, Jensen can't see anywhere. That is unusual. Entire envoys usually arrive together. They've never met, though Jensen makes a point to know his neighbors' (rivals or otherwise) faces and titles. Jared is, according to Jensen's understanding, at least two years past majority--too old to have retired for the evening already, as his younger sister no doubt has, and as Jensen's own sister will be permitted to do in a few moments herself (Mackenzie is, of course, far too talented at the politicking game to take advantage of that courtesy). In general, the Padaleckis are considered smooth political operators--fitting for a line of traitors and murderers, if Jensen's family histories and traditions are to be believed.

Prince Jared should be in attendance; to not be is, at the very least, a missed opportunity. At the worst, it is considerably rude, a slight to the relationship his family has with the nation of Murray, and a huge political misstep. Nothing Jensen has heard of the younger prince has ever made him sound anything less than skilled in the game. Perhaps Jensen will be learning something new here.

Jared arrives three days later with an envoy from Cortese. Cortese borders Radishan to the west and south, and, as far as Jensen knows, has no direct ties to the families most involved in the engagement proceedings. Jared was fostered in Radishan, in the city of Rhabhadishan, so it's not surprising that he has made ties with the ruling house of Cortese. It is surprising that they are accompanying the prince to the wedding, particularly since the last Jensen heard, Padalecki didn't have any strong alliances with Cortese. Prince Jared's arrival in their company is nothing short of a declaration.



Danneel is the eldest daughter and crown princess of the kingdom of Harris, and only a year younger than Jensen. As heir to the throne of Harris, Danneel wouldn't be fostered away, but, like Jensen's elder brother, Josh, would be trained at home in the administration of the kingdom she would one day rule. Danneel likes dancing and has the best bow work Jensen has ever seen. They become friends almost immediately after ducking one of her cousins in the fishpond as revenge for threatening to tattle on them for skipping lessons. They bond while being yelled at for dropping her cousin in the fishpond--poor thing could have caught a chill!--and skipping lessons.

"They can't execute me," Danneel explains. "I'm the crown princess. If they kill me, they'll need to get a new heir, and that's too much trouble. And they can't execute you, because then Ackles will go to war with us, and Mama's been talking for weeks about how nice it is to get a fosterling from Ackles again. 'Sides, it's your second day. They definitely can't execute you on your second day. That's just bad manners."

Jensen knows then that Princess Danneel is going to be a lot fun.

Danneel is the first girl Jensen ever kisses, at thirteen and fourteen respectively. And, more than a year later, Danneel is also the first person Jensen tells the first time he kisses one of her father's knights' sons, behind the stables. Danneel wrinkles her nose, telling Jensen he has bad taste in men.

She turns out to have been right about that first kid. Jensen likes to think he's grown out of that phase by now.



Jensen does no hunting for the engagement feast, nor do any of the other guests. Everything is handled by servants of the hunt for their hosts; no sport in the hunting, just cool efficiency and the need to feed a few hundred people well. The cooks, no doubt, work day and night in shifts in preparation for the event, and that's not counting any of the 'regular' meals they have to prepare in the meantime. Later, there will be hunts, balls, banquets, and a whole host of other functions that serve less as a social backdrop to political dealings than as yet another ground to prove the grace and skill of the attendees. Jensen will volunteer his services to the hunt after the engagement feast--the huntsmen will be grateful for it, doubtless, given the number of people they have in attendance at the castle--but not allowing their hosts to provide for the initial event would be to say that Koren by the Sea is incapable of entertaining their guests, and generously.

Danneel is seated near his brother a few tables forward. Their shared rank as heirs merits them a place of greater honor, and the close association between their families, in part, determines the seating arrangement. Jensen, he discovers as a shadow moves behind him and stops, is seated next to Prince Jared of Padalecki.

Neither Ackles nor Padalecki has close ties with Koren by the Sea--certainly nothing to make them pick favorites in the seating arrangement. Still, Jensen has no reason to suspect that the players in Koren by the Sea are less informed than they are politic; Koren by the Sea is a strong kingdom, and kingdoms do not stay strong by remaining oblivious to the shifting relationships among their guests. There is no way that this seating, pitting the two neighboring princes against each other, is anything less than deliberate. The only question is who has something to gain, and how much Ackles has to lose. Jensen refuses to be responsible for any losses.

Prince Jared is tall, with wide shoulders and big arms. He would look huge and imposing in full armor, but rumor says he fights like he was born and bred in Rabhadishan instead of colder northern climates. Rabhadishan's armor is lighter, allowing greater range of movement; it's more important to be able to avoid a blow than to simply absorb the damage. He looks imposing anyway, but Jensen isn't about to let one of the house of Padalecki intimidate him. He has brown hair, like the rest of his family members, but unlike them, he's also burned to a dark tan from exposure to the desert sun. The southern deserts seem to have treated him well. Jensen doesn't smile, but he does nod acknowledgment to the other prince as he takes his place.

There's a long awkward moment after Prince Jared sits, where he's looking at Jensen like he's trying to remember something and Jensen is afraid he's going to speak to him, and then Jensen will be forced to respond at least sort of politely. A formal engagement banquet is not an appropriate time to get into age-old rivalries. The searching look passes, though, and Prince Jared half-sneers, which makes Jensen feel comfortable looking contemptuously back before deliberately turning away from the other prince and engaging the young woman seated on his other side in conversation.

Jensen and Jared manage to ignore each other all night.



The earliest histories of Jensen's family speak highly of the kingdom of Padalecki. Neither were actual kingdoms then, of course, under the rule of the High King; they were earldoms or countships or some other subset of landed gentry claiming loyalty to a large vassal kingdom under the High King. Their families came into prominence at the same time, promoted for bravery after the same battle and awarded lands next to each other. The chronicles aren't explicit about it, but the language implies that that first Lord Padalecki and that first Lord Ackles were as brothers in battle, and the close proximity of the placement of their keeps indicates that as well. It makes no sense to construct one's primary stronghold and place of residence close to an enemy border; it makes little enough sense if they merely had neutral connections with one another, when a more centralized location would make administration of the domain easier.

Following the establishment of their fiefdoms, ties remained strong and favorable between the two for many generations, with records of fosterings and marriages between the families extending even after the line of the High King petered out and they became two small nations among many as the kingdom-spanning empire began to dissolve into separate and feuding states without the High Court's unifying force to keep them together. Many old alliances were destroyed in the tumult after the death of the last High King; much of the higher-ranked nobility in the High Court killed each other in battles over succession, and the disorder spread down throughout the kingdom's lower nobility like a disease. It was extraordinary for the era that Ackles and Padalecki remained the staunchest of allies throughout that entire dark period of history. Some historians attribute not just the survival of the two kingdoms, but indeed the expansion from their original borders as well, to the inviolable alliance between them.



Jensen has a breakfast of hot fresh bread and cold meat sent up to his room: strips of tender fowl and slices of venison, leftover from the previous night's banquet. He eats quickly by himself in the early morning, mist from the sea wrapping itself round and round the castle like cotton; it feels like sound is as muffled by the mist as the sun is, and the mostly sleeping castle is peaceful, or at least it is up in the guest quarters, away from the twenty-four-hour chaos that are the kitchens and the hurried efficiency of the servants' quarters.

Jensen dresses himself in tough, practical leathers and heads down to a little back courtyard near the outside wall where the castle's huntsmen and a few royal volunteers will be gathering. He likes to be useful, and he likes to get away from the constant crowds that fill a castle during a social season; hunting is a good way to do both. A groom sees Jensen as he arrives and leaves to prepare Jensen's horse while Jensen formally offers his services to the head of the day's hunt. The hunter accepts, of course, and a short while later, the groom returns with Jensen's saddled horse and a short spear for his use should he wish it. Jensen has brought his own bow; the arrows in his quiver are fletched with feathers dyed a soft green and a bright yellow, representing the green and gold of his line's colors. Any animals he brings down from a distance on the hunt will be credited to him by the fletching of the arrows. A certain amount of status is to be had from displaying true skill in hunting, both for its usefulness in times of relative peace and because of how well those skills translate to the battlefield.

There are few other nobles joining the hunt this early in the social season; more will come when a couple more weeks have passed and they start to grow bored with other activities, or just to get out and avoid risking purposeful bloodshed. For now, though, there's Jensen and a small handful of others, mostly members of envoys from nearby kingdoms who haven't had to travel far to reach the castle at Koren by the Sea and who are more familiar with the terrain. Jensen sighs and stretches, settles into himself. This is Jensen's favorite time to volunteer for the hunt, before he has to watch himself; it's a little like peace.

Limers, leashed scent hounds used to track quarry to a den or thicket before the general hunt, were sent out earlier, and now they're just waiting for the big dogs' handlers to return to report where the game has been found so they won't have to spend all day wandering aimlessly in the woods. The mist is just starting to thin, light of no particular origin brightening over the edge of the castle wall when the first of the scent hounds' handlers return. The gate through the castle walls here is small enough to force them to ride single file out of the courtyard to fan out into the woods beyond the gates. Jensen lets most of the small party precede him. He doesn't know the terrain as well as they do, and he has nothing to prove. He can afford to follow.

Jensen regrets that decision when Prince Jared comes riding up with the clatter of hooves on paving stones, a pack of huge brown dogs milling around his horse's feet. Their shoulders come up higher than a horse's belly, and they probably outweigh the deer they're going out after. These are the dogs Padalecki has been growing famous for these past five or seven years, the ones that so impress Josh. They're bigger than Jensen has heard, but well-behaved, and while not agile, exactly--they're too big-boned for that--they do manage to stay out from under Prince Jared's horse's feet and don't make trouble with the other dogs in the yard. Jensen's impressed too, he'll admit to himself, just a little bit.

The head of the hunt looks delighted to see Prince Jared. It's too late for Jensen to back out of the hunt gracefully.

Much of the rest of the party has already set off into the woods by the time Jensen clears the outside gates, leaving Jensen with two huntsmen, Prince Jared, and his pack of raches. The dogs don't seem to be either true sight hounds or true scent hounds. Jensen doesn't recognize the breed, so they're probably some version of the special hounds Padalecki's been breeding. Rumor has it Prince Jared is responsible for most of their new dogs. It's an accomplishment, they say.

The raches track their quarry silently, without much baying. Prince Jared keeps half an eye on his dogs and strikes up an easy conversation with the men of the hunt who are riding with them. He smiles easily and tells stories about comical hunting mishaps to amuse his audience. Jensen kind of hates him, in a general way for being a Padalecki, of course, but mostly in a personal way for being there, right now, so Jensen can't relax and enjoy himself the way he was planning. It comes out that one of the huntsmen with them is occupied with maintaining the hounds at the castle; Prince Jared, of course, is chiefly responsible for the recent improvements to Padalecki's dog breeds, and the conversation turns swiftly to the breeding and care of hounds. Jensen trains his eyes on the woods around them for signs of the hart they're tracking and tries not to scowl. He probably already seems surly in comparison with the other prince for his relative quiet; there's no reason to compound the issue.

Suddenly, one of the lead dogs raises its head and lets out a short huffing sound, not quite loud enough to be a true bark, but it gets the attention of the rest of the pack anyway. They're all off in an instant, and Prince Jared and the others spur their horses to follow. The chase has started.



Jensen goes home for the first time 6 years after first leaving for his fostering in Harris. He would have been back two years before, but there was a landslide blocking a major route through the mountains near the Harris border, and they were forced to turn back. When the road was finally cleared, it was too late in the year to make the journey. Two years later, Jensen makes it home in time for the summer solstice.

His parents are delighted to see him and keep making comments about how much he has grown. His older brother claps him on the back and promises they will go hunting together later, just as soon as their parents stop celebrating his safe return. His sister comes out with her nurse and bursts into tears when he smiles at her and tries to pick her up. She doesn't recognize him. Nearly eight now, Jensen has been gone most of her life, and the other brother she remembers, if she remembers him at all, was much younger, still a child himself. This new Jensen is a stranger.

Mackenzie warms up to him eventually; they are friends before a week has gone by, and when Jensen leaves a month and a half later, she sulks to see him go. Later, his parents write to say she sulked for two whole days afterward and kept demanding to know when Jensen could come home again for good.

Jensen's brother does take him hunting, a few hours from the castle away from the Padalecki border where Jensen gets to show him he has learned how to take down more than a single rabbit. On their way to a good place for pheasant, the two of them startle a buck into breaking cover. The sudden appearance of the deer frightens Josh's horse and sets it trying to bolt. Jensen, further back on the trail, lets loose two arrows in quick succession, and the animal totters and falls--sending Josh's horse into a fresh bout of horsely hysterics. They stop the hunt there and turn back early; they don't need any more meat, and hunting pheasants at that point would be a waste of birds and time.

That night, Josh tells and retells the story of how Jensen took the animal by himself while his princely older brother had to keep his attention on getting his startled horse back under control. It was a lucky shot more than anything, since Jensen hadn't had enough time to really think about aiming, but Jensen doesn't think he's ever felt more proud of himself, and hasn't again yet, even to this day.

Jensen spends some time alone in the woods between the castle and the Padalecki border. He wouldn't say he's looking for Jay, precisely, but he is. He resolutely doesn't think about how his own little sister didn't recognize him--Jay wasn't a baby when he left. He doesn't think about how much Jay may have changed in the six years. He still has a child's faith that they can recognize each other by the power of friendship alone.

In the end, it doesn't matter if they would know each other when they saw each other or not, because Jensen never sees anyone in the woods in the no-man's land at the border. He isn't able to spend much time there; it's harder to sneak out now that he is older and no longer just a child.



Exceptionally good relations continued between the kingdoms of Ackles and Padalecki for several successive generations. In part because of this, Ackles' records concerning interactions with the other kingdom are sketchy at best--often little more than a listing of Ackles' children sent to foster in Padalecki, Padalecki children come to foster with Ackles, and marriages between the nobility of the two countries--instead devoting space to more tumultuous relationships with other kingdoms. Even the entry documenting the dramatic and permanent break between the countries is little more than a bare-bones accounting:

450 PF (Post-Fall of the High King), early spring: Samuel fostered with Padalecki court.

456 PF, late spring: Padalecki demands blood-price. Samuel dead. Body unreturned.

While not in the official chronicles, Jensen knows some of what followed. Ackles declared war and blood-feud on Padalecki for the death of their prince and their refusal to return the body for burning and proper burial. Padalecki quickly reciprocated. One of the queen of Ackles' younger brothers had married a Padalecki, who had to be ransomed by the nation of Collins (who had alliances with both Ackles and Padalecki) because it was unsafe for her to stay in the court at Ackles any longer. Much of the actual fighting was carried out by those two kingdoms alone, however, because their treaties with other kingdoms had, until then, been almost exclusively mutual, rendering allies unable to lend strength to either country. The fighting along their mutual border, until then almost unguarded, became so fierce that the then-queen of Ackles moved the seat of the court away to the south and the east, where there was less worry of constant besiegement.

Blood-feud lasts at minimum three generations and at maximum seven. Blood-feud cannot be declared between enemy states but is reserved solely for allies, betrayers of the blood of the king or queen of another nation. Blood spilled between kingdoms that foster closely and often is considered among the most egregious of crimes, equal to murder amongst blood relatives. Those limits were imposed as the High King's first laws were being established, and however meaningless the legal power those statues have become with the collapse of that kingdom, their cultural legitimacy has remained. Blood-feud between Ackles and Padalecki lasted all seven generations, and the border remained actively hostile for five more.

The time after that saw periods of cooling and periods of renewed aggression, depending on the temperaments and concerns of the respective rulers of each kingdom, but even in relatively peaceful periods, royalty in Ackles continued to teach their children of the hurt and betrayal they had suffered at the hands of Padalecki.

As a child, Jensen traveled many days with his family to visit his cousins in Shaffer, or a few weeks to the courts of allied kingdoms for naming ceremonies; he had never been to the court in Padalecki, though it was less than an hour's ride away from the castle of his birth. A Padalecki played the part of every childhood villain in his make-believe games, and his older brother Josh used to scare Jensen by telling him that monsters under his bed would steal him and give him to the Padaleckis.

Family and fostering can never abandon you, but history holds that Padalecki, who are both, did so. Even as relations cooled to the point they were at when Jensen's father was married, and moving the court back to its ancestral seat was not incredibly fool-hardy and exceedingly dangerous, the history would not be forgotten.



Jensen marks the stag as it breaks cover, but the shot isn't clear, and it isn't enough to take the big animal down. It bounds away through a thicket, and Jared's raches take off in pursuit. (In the end, the dogs run it to ground, Jensen's arrow sticking out of it, fletching intact. Jensen tries to insist they record the kill as Jared's--his dogs took it; Jensen's mark was only a wounding shot--to appear magnanimous. There will be other deer. Jared argues intensely, either out of a sense of honor and fairness--they're Jensen's arrows in the beast; Jared didn't even get a shot off--or a refusal to accept charity in the contest, and the implications that would bring about his character. Either way, Jensen finds himself forgetting for a moment that Jared is a Padalecki.

The party from that morning take a total of three deer: Jensen and Jared's joint stag, another slightly younger stag, and an old doe past bearing age. The huntsmen take the deer for dressing, and Jensen goes back to his rooms to change into something more appropriate for gentler settings.

Dinner that night is small, almost informal. It's not in the Great Hall, and there are no formal places set, no arranged seating. Tables full of food line the far end of the room, and there are enough long tables and benches set in the middle of the hall for those who want to sit and eat peacefully, as long as they don't all want to do it at once. Groups of people will drift in and out all night, eating, talking, dealing.

Jensen arrives with his family. Mack's off in an instant, skips food entirely and goes off outside with a group of kids her age she must have met earlier. Jensen doesn't recognize half of them but can guess the identities of about a third from the colors they're wearing. Jensen and Josh share a look, pride and amusement, and Josh says, "I'll go keep an eye on the rugrat. Make sure she doesn't stab anyone." It's a running joke they have; Mack has a bit of a temper.

"You better not let her hear you call her that, or the only one she'll be stabbing is you," Jensen warns him.

"I'll just tell her I'm quoting you," Josh retorts, and then he's gone to get a finger plate and wander outside after Mack.

Two sets of big double doors link the hall with the rest of the palace; opposite those is another matching set of doors, thrown open to the inner garden beyond. Lanterns light up the garden, set discreetly on posts or strung over tree branches. There's dancing off to one side of the lawn, close to a quartet of cheerful musicians. There are a few couples taking turns already, mostly younger nobility from Koren by the Sea, laughing at each other as the grass hampers overly ambitious dance moves.

"It's sweet, you know, the way you both try to look out for her," his mother says fondly when they've all settled at a table with platters of food. "I know she's growing up, but she's always going to be my baby."

"Yeah, well," Jensen says, smiling back.

"Don't worry! You'll always be my baby, too! Children never really grow up to their mothers." The queen gets a wicked gleam in her eyes, "Now, eat your peas."

Jensen rolls his eyes at her, and she laughs.

Part of the envoy from Bell settles next to them as they're finishing their meal, and while they seem to be focused primarily on eating, Jensen and his parents restrict their conversation to the most superficial of banalities. It never hurts to be overly cautious, and Jensen has grown very good at it. He makes a throw-away remark about the food, some kind of local fish. It's automatic. Jensen doesn't even have to think about it. They don't know what Bell wants, or really how they feel about Ackles, and anything as boring as recent rainfall in Ackles could tip the situation into Bell's favor. Suddenly, Jensen wishes he were anywhere else, doing anything else. It's not even that the pretense is hard to keep up; it's that it's easy.

Fifteen or twenty minutes later, the queen of Bell makes an innocent remark, something about the weather in Koren by the Sea, drawing his parents into conversation. She's skilled, meandering from the fine day through several other unimportant, neutral topics, to settle on her real objective: the lumber trade. They want to negotiate a deal with Ackles, where most of their lumber originates, without having to go through so many hoops in Murray. This union, with Murray making ties with Schaffer through Bush, and Ackles' obviously close ties with Shaffer, is the perfect opportunity to work something out. Jensen hangs back for a while, in case his parents want his help in the negotiations. He can't help the intense flash of relief he feels when his father nods him off. Normally, he wouldn't mind, and he would still help any way he was able, but today, today he just doesn't want to have to.

"Come on," Danneel says, appearing at his side. She slides a hand into the crook of his elbow and then starts tugging surreptitiously, leading him towards the garden. She's insistent, but subtle enough about it that it's unlikely anyone watching can tell. She's had a lot of practice. "Chelsea's teaching a local peasant dance, and I need a partner."

Jensen cocks an eyebrow at her. "What makes you think I can or want to learn this dance?"

"Jensen, it's mostly walking in a circle. I have great faith in your ability to master walking in a circle."

"There've got to be half a dozen people more than willing to be your partner over there already," Jensen protests, but he accompanies her towards the garden entrance anyway.

"Yes, but they won't be nearly as much fun to laugh at," Danneel counters, and her smile sparkles like fireflies through leaves.

The dance is simple; it has to be, or the uneven footing of the lawn would interfere with the moves. The dance is also fast, and it just keeps getting faster as it goes along, dancers laughing and changing hands and partners, and occasionally falling in a tumble that nobody slows down for. Jensen manages to stay upright all the way until the musicians break for their own dinner. It's a near thing, though, and Danneel, true to her word, mocks him mercilessly for it. Jensen teases right back, and it's the best, most relaxed he's felt all day, since right after breakfast.

Without the musicians, the group dissolves into smaller entangled knots of people and conversation. Mack wanders over at one point, Josh trailing her discreetly until Mack catches him at it and tells both her brothers where they can stick it.

"Hey! I didn't do anything!" Jensen protests, but it does him no good.

"Don't even try to tell me you weren't in on this, Jensen; I'm not stupid," Mack snaps. Josh is no help whatsoever, because he doesn't want to suffer alone.

"Traitor," Jensen mutters darkly, after Mack's left them both to 'think about what they've done,' like she's their mother or something instead of their baby sister.

"Whatever," Josh snorts. "Like you weren't trying to sell me up the river."

"God, siblings," Jensen mutters to Danneel, because, really.

Except it's not Danneel who answers him. "She handed you both your asses." There's a laugh in his voice, and Jensen can't help joking back, even as he turns to see who, exactly, he's talking to. This is small talk; nothing important, and clearly, nothing his audience hasn't already witnessed. He has nothing to lose, and being social and charming never hurts.
"She normally does," Jensen says, and then stops short. It's Padalecki. Jensen, apparently, is wrong. Being social and charming can hurt.

They stare at each other for a moment, maybe two, temperature around them dropping quickly. Neither prince does or says anything to acknowledge the unwittingly friendly moment they've just had, which is, in a way, acknowledgment enough. They nod stiffly at each other once, silent agreement to ignore it, and deliberately turn away, Jared back to his conversation with a young noble and her husband from Koren by the Sea, and Jensen to nothing but the rest of the garden party. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's not Padalecki.



Agents from Weatherly contact Jensen discreetly at the feast the following evening. It's a big, formal affair, full of fussy guests and calmly bustling servants working to keep everything running smoothly. Jensen had been seated next to the prince from Padalecki again, so he'd taken the first opportunity he'd had to get to the dancing. A thin, scruffy table servant with incredibly blue eyes steps up surreptitiously. He’s wearing the livery of Koren by the Sea and holding up a wine pitcher in offering. "Wine, Your Highness?" Another taller, liveried servant stands behind him, carrying a tray of empty chalices.

Jensen looks down. His wine glass is full. Jensen looks back up and raises an eyebrow at them both. The so-called servant with the pitcher grins. "I'm Misha. That's Mike," he says, pointing a thumb back over his shoulder. Mike juggles his tray onto just one hand and waves cheerfully. His grin is a little creepy. "We were wondering if you could help us with a little something." Mike tips his tray back so Jensen can see the underside--the chalices on the tray turn out to all be glued on, and the dredges of wine in the bottom dried paint--discreetly, of course, because that seems to be what they do, flashing the coat of arms of Weatherly affixed to the bottom of the tray. Officially, no one from Weatherly is in attendance at Koren by the Sea.

"My idea," says Mike, clearly pleased with himself as he levels the tray again and the crest disappears from view.

"I trust you'll be circumspect about our little chat?" Misha asks. Mike leans forward over Misha's shoulder. "We're not supposed to be here," he stage-whispers to Jensen. Jensen gets the disconcerting feeling he's talking to gigantic children playing at being spies. They are willing to pay for Jensen's 'circumspection' in the matter, though, and Jensen has no qualms about taking money just to keep his mouth shut about them being there--you don't send assassins to truce events. Their mission, it turns out, isn't even officially sanctioned by the Weatherly crown, which may explain some things about the 'agents' in question. Instead, it's a stopgap measure being undertaken by one of his knights.

Misha pretends to refill Jensen's already-full goblet while Mike outlines their problem: Their king has been widowed and is planning to remarry. He is, much to the worry of his court, beginning talks with a young princess from Alba. As she is the heir to the nation of Alba, the Weatherly court, and specifically the counselor who sent Misha and Mike to contact Jensen, is concerned, primarily because a crown princess is expected to perform certain duties for her kingdom of birth--like ruling it--which would make marriage to the king of another, geographically distant kingdom problematic at best. If the nations were closer, of course, there would be more options. The pair seem quite enamored with each other, and their king, at least, is unwilling to listen to logistics in the face of love.

"We understand," Mike concludes, "that you are personal friends with the princess in question--an acquaintance from your fostering in Harris, if we're not mistaken?" Jensen nods for lack of anything better to do. The unofficial agents from Weatherly don't seem like particularly smooth operators, but no one has approached them during their little discussion, and the party milling on around them doesn't even seem aware that something's going on. Usually eavesdroppers cluster around chats like this like flies around honey. "We're not looking for deep involvement, you understand; just a little...friendly discouragement for the match."

"By whatever means possible," Misha adds. He seems serious, but Mike waggles his eyebrows suggestively. Jensen's not really sure what to make of either of them.

Jensen doesn't agree to do any more than think about it. It never pays to be hasty about meddling in others' affairs--particularly if you don't have anything to gain by getting involved in the first place. He does have relatively good ties with the crown princess of Alba, and it might not be advantageous to Jensen or the kingdom of Ackles to potentially disrupt them, even though Misha and Mike assure Jensen that their lord is willing to more than generously reward him for his involvement.

"We'll be back later for an answer, then," Misha says, clearly unconcerned by the possibility that Jensen may not agree to help them.

"Don't worry about finding us; we'll find you," Mike says. They melt away into the general milieu before Jensen can say anything else--deftly avoiding an older gentleman's drunken demands for more wine, though Misha bows genially when the gentleman refers to him as the 'ugly oversized wine wench carrying the pitcher there'--and have surprisingly little difficulty disappearing into the crowd.



"Cortese made an appearance tonight at the banquet," Jensen remarks archly as Danneel glides up, grace in every movement. Her dress is elegant, made of layers of gossamer and fine linen. Her hair looks perfect, long brown waves hanging loose to fall to mid-back, small, multi-colored clusters of gems fashioned into the shapes of flowers worked through it to catch the light. She gives him the finger.

"I noticed. Sitting right across from me? I'm sure you noticed that part," Danneel says, "Or you wouldn't be asking."

Jensen hides his smile behind his drink. "Yeah, well. Have a good time?"

"Not bad. Better entertainment than your brother." Jensen gives Danneel the finger back. "And you? Did you enjoy your seating partners? Someone in charge of guest placement seems to be trying to engineer a war between Ackles and Padalecki."

Jensen snorts. "I wouldn't waste my time on a Padalecki. 'Betrayal in the blood,'" Jensen quotes. "Better not to have anything to do with blood like that; Ackles learned that lesson the hard way. The broken contract with McCoy just looks like more proof to me that treachery runs in the family. Even if his new lady-friend of a princess is as entertaining as you claim." Prince Jared was engaged to be married to Princess Sandra, heir to the McCoy throne, negotiations running smoothly between their families for years before it was broken off suddenly not very long ago. McCoy will have been invited to Koren by the Sea in their own right; Cortese, on the other hand, because of a brand new connection with Padalecki.

Naturally, Jared and the Princess Cortese choose that moment to happen past, en route to the exit. Jensen couldn't have timed it better if he'd tried. A flush spreads across Jensen's cheeks automatically, but he does his best to pretend it isn't there.

Judging by the look the Padalecki prince sends him, he's heard more than a little of the conversation. Jensen shrugs to himself, pushing away embarrassment at having been caught; he hasn't said anything he regrets--nothing he knows to be untrue, and nothing that can hurt Ackles' standing. The antipathy between their kingdoms is well-known. A little more, a little less, this generation or that: it all makes very little difference in the long run.



It's stupid, Jensen knows. He's too jaded not to. But. But Jensen will be stupid in this one small thing. It's a choice between keeping a hopeless hope, or being completely jaded and bitter, and people like that are good at the game, yes, but they're also cruel, hard people, and not really who Jensen wants to be. Maybe someday he'll end up like that anyway, but not yet. Not quite yet.

Jensen still has the hundred magic pebbles, kept in the promise he made as a child. They live in a jar, small and sturdy, picked up from a merchant on the street. It's painted in bright reds and greens and blues; the lid is painted similarly, vivid color that does nothing to disguise how simple a vessel it is. It's nothing special, like the contents are nothing special. It's just a jar, and they're just rocks.

But they're magic, and a wish, and a promise. They're the last scrap of childhood innocence Jensen's held on to, and the only piece Jensen isn't going to systematically root out of himself because he needs to be strong for his family to survive. They all need to be strong for their line, they all did, all the way back to when the honor of nobility was first bestowed upon his ancestors, and like Jay, all the people who used to help them are lost in time, nothing more than memories. Jensen takes the jar with him whenever he travels for state, wrapped up in his saddlebags for the journey and set up on a table or a dresser or even just the windowsill once he unpacks.

People don't ask about it; Jensen's not sure anyone besides maybe Danneel or Josh has ever even noticed it. That's fine by Jensen, ideal, really. It lets him keep it--either the promise or the jar, they're the same--without confrontation. The jar is from Rabhadishan originally, though it traveled a long way before Jensen picked it up. That's for Jay, as the only place Jensen really knows of for him. The stones are all from Ackles (well, a few may be technically from Padalecki. The border's only clear on paper in the demilitarized zone in the woods, something a much younger Jensen hadn't had the presence of mind to realize), and that's home. They're the best of everything, all warmth and comfort, love and friendship from a time before he had to worry about what a new friend really wants from him, and whether or not the smiling acquaintance he's just made really wants to see him dead.

When the people and the politics and the stress get to be too much, Jensen pulls the jar down from whatever place he's found for it in whatever borrowed rooms in whatever castle he's staying in, and he dumps all the pebbles out across his bedspread. He counts them down backwards as he puts them back in, one hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight, three, two, one, and he feels better for it. The activity is just enough to keep him distracted, and just mindless enough for Jensen to lose himself in it. He feels close to daydreams, the kind of hope that's kept safe by wrapping it in fanciful what-ifs you think about without any real intention of acting on. Fantasy is fantasy, and nothing has softer edges than clouds.

It's stupid, keeping a promise like that, one that won't mean anything either way, one that's impossible. But it's small, and harmless, and Jensen will be stupid in this one small thing. He will keep his last scrap of childhood in the memories of two summers playing pretend in woods more dangerous than he understood, and he'll keep one hundred worthless white pebbles in a jar from a country he's never actually visited and take it with him when he travels. They're magic, and the magic of childhood has nothing to do with wishes, granted or not, and everything to do with those few years when time and mortality had no real meaning. They keep Jensen grounded in more ways than one, innocent in ways that family and fostering would count as kindness to beat out of him.

Jensen promised he would keep the wish pebbles until Jay got his wish. Jay never promised anything about the extra one, the one that wasn't, by luck, magic after all. Jensen doesn't even think it to himself, because, foolishness aside, he's not that much of an idiot. People in their world can't afford to be romantics. But somewhere deep in the quiet places of his mind, heart, soul--some space between the three--Jensen hopes Jay still keeps one small, white pebble for balance. If Jensen has to be foolish, at least he's a fool in a way no one will know. He'd like not to be the only one.



There's a feast the next night, technically to mark the formal announcement of the engagement to everyone who doesn't know yet (in actuality, that's no one, but officially non-relatives) and for the official recording of the upcoming union in the records of the kingdom of Murray and the principality of Bush. Mostly, it's an excuse for a party. Jensen dresses himself early and goes to his parents' rooms to compare notes with the rest of the party from Ackles. His sister is there already, since she has a little suite off their main sitting room; his brother arrives not long after he does.

It's not a long meeting. Mostly they're hoping for a new deal with Welling, something that will give them better trade routes. The king and queen outline their broad strategies for the season; Jensen and his siblings know what to do, and their parents trust them to be able to do it, or they wouldn't have taken them along. After most of the business is concluded, Jensen brings up the issue of Alba. Best not to proceed without his parents' approval, even if it is unlikely to impact them directly.

"Weatherly seems a decent enough king," Jensen's father tells him. "Based on rumor, of course," he clarifies. "We haven't dealt with him much personally, and I don't think we've had an official stance toward the kingdom of Weatherly since...the War of Trees," here the king looks to his wife for confirmation, who nods, "between Rosenbaum and Feigenbaum. Weatherly and Ackles both had treaties with the nation of Rosenbaum, but we haven't had much contact since Rosenbaum lost and the ruling family took refuge in Weatherly."

"Still," his mother says, picking up the conversation as his father finishes. "I don't see much harm either way. We don't have much official interaction with Alba, either, except through your fostering. You know Princess Jessica well enough to decide whether or not Ackles' interference will be taken well or badly."

The informal meeting breaks up, and Jensen opens the door to the hallway in the outer chamber of his parents' suite to come face to face with Mike. Jensen takes half a step back. Misha comes out of nowhere and bumps Mike sideways with a hip, so they're blocking the exit together.

"So you'll do it," they say, in unison. It's kind of creepy.

"I haven't agreed to anything yet," Jensen says.

"But you were going to. We'll arrange for proper payment to be delivered to your rooms," Mike says, emphasizing his words in a way that makes it clear they're supposed to mean something to Jensen. Jensen just has no idea what that's supposed to be.

"In advance, of course," Misha adds, before Mike drags him away down the hall.

Mike waves his fingers at Jensen over his shoulder. "Enjoy the party!"



Jensen stops by his rooms before making his way to Danneel's chambers to escort her downstairs. In his room, he finds a thirty-weight in gold; a thin, expensively bound book on tropical birds on thin, costly paper; and a small, much more ragged scrap of parchment with the name and confession, of a sort, of the man who had the old king of Welling murdered. It's actually the letter commissioning the assassination, in detail. Signed. It's the perfect bargaining chip to use when approaching Welling tonight. They'll even be able to negotiate for a lot more than they initially planned. This kind of information is worth a lot more than a simple alternate trade route. Apparently, for Mike and Misha, 'in advance' means something along the lines of 'we can read the future and will have left you sufficient, if decidedly odd, payment before you yourself have in fact decided whether or not you'll be doing anything that needs getting paid for.' It kind of makes up for how completely random the rest of the 'payment' is.

The feast is pleasant; seating arrangements by rank have been broken up for the formal signing of the engagement into the Bush and Murray records, so Jensen is seated next to his sister and across from Danneel--and, most pleasing for Jensen, not anywhere near Prince Jared, who is seated on the groom's side of the room with the rest of the envoy from Padalecki. Two great tomes are brought forward, still wrapped in the traditional plain cloth from the journey. At the head of the hall, witnesses from Koren by the Sea preside over the inscribing of the engagement in both books, a scribe from each nation writing history neatly into existence. These same witnesses will be called upon for the wedding ceremony itself, and then again later, if either party wishes to break the vows laid in during the engagement and the wedding.

Great platters of food are brought out as the record books are spirited out of the hall again to be safely laid away in the rooms occupied by head representatives of each nation. Jensen catches Danneel's attention as servants carefully place bowls in front of them. It's an old signal they developed as kids, a combination of knocking his fork against the edge of his glass and rubbing his nose. Not exactly subtle, but also not obviously one message or another. Danneel knows it means he has a favor to ask her. Nothing too sensitive, or he would have rubbed his chin, but something that he'll need a little of her help to accomplish. Danneel smiles at him, message received, before turning to dazzle the person to her right, one of the younger princes, a cousin, if Jensen remembers properly, from Welling.

Just after the start of the next course, Jensen gets his opportunity to actually ask for the favor. Mackenzie distracts the princess seated next to her with a story about a haunted suite in the castle the servants were telling her about, and she reels the prince from Welling across the table into the story as well. Pretty soon, she's got a small audience of all the people seated within hearing distance listening raptly, and no one is paying Jensen and Danneel any attention as they work their way through their greens.

"I need to have a brief conversation with Princess Jessica of Alba," Jensen tells Danneel. "Think you can get her over here for a bit?" Danneel smiles at him brightly.

"I thought you were going to ask me for something hard," she laughs.

Halfway through the fruit dessert course, lemon sorbet to cleanse the palate, Danneel switches places with Princess Jessica. She has 'important business' to discuss with Jessica's seating partner, she claims, and it won't take long--Jessica can have her seat back before the end of the course. After agreeing, Jessica doesn't have any real recourse except to take Danneel's seat across from Jensen.

Jensen shoots a glance towards where Danneel is speaking animatedly with Jessica's seat partner. There are hand motions; it seems complicated. Later, Jensen will have to ask her what the hell story she made up for the charade.

Jensen subtly gets Jessica's attention as she takes her seat. "Actually, I've got something to talk with you about as well. It's a little..." Jensen pauses to search for the right word, "delicate."

"After dinner, then?" Jessica asks. "We'll find somewhere a little more discreet."

Jensen nods. A glance towards Danneel reveals that she's still going strong. Jessica's erstwhile seat partner is smiling and nodding, and Danneel is still making these extravagant hand gestures, like she's miming climbing down a mountain backwards. Jensen takes advantage of the extra time to catch up with Jessica a little. Later will be all business, after all.

Eventually, Danneel and her temporary seat partners stand up, sketching polite farewells. Danneel and Jessica trade polite phrases and places again, and all Jensen has to do is wait for the dancing to start.

Jensen dances with a few people before drifting over to where Jessica has just broken off with her partner. "Would it please Her Highness to accompany me for some refreshment?" Jensen asks. Jessica gives him a look, and his face breaks into a grin.

When it becomes apparent Jensen isn't going to rephrase in a way that sounds less idiotic, Jessica says, "It would," and links her arm with his. Jensen leads her out of the Great Hall, and they turn towards the antechamber where some additional refreshments are set up: wine and water for drinking, and some of the leftovers from the feast earlier that evening. They keep walking past the entrance, though, and duck into the next hallway, away from potential eavesdroppers.

The first alcove they pass is occupied by a couple having a not-so-subtle screaming match; Jensen pulls aside the curtain of the alcove directly across from them and ushers Jessica inside. It takes a moment for their eyes to adjust, but the moonlight streaming in through the window is bright enough that they don't need to bother lighting the candle Jensen brought along just in case. Jessica settles herself on the plush cushion of the window seat and looks up at him.

"So, what's this about?" she asks, cutting to the chase.

"Weatherly," Jensen says. "I heard there was talk about marriage negotiations."

"Did my parents put you up to this?" She's not happy. Jensen has hit a nerve.

Jensen puts his hands up, palms out, placating. "No, nothing like that. Your parents?"

She scowls. "They're not exactly happy about it. Dragging their feet, you know. So negotiations are still very preliminary, officially, because they keep putting off sending couriers and envoys and crap."

"I know it's none of my business, but maybe they've got a point? I mean," Jensen hastens to add, when Jessica looks like she's going to give him a point, "just, like, Weatherly's really far away from Alba; how are you planning to run two countries like that? Not very fair to either of them, and Alba deserves to have a devoted ruler, you know."

"I'm not six, ok? I've thought about it." Jessica slumps, face falling into shadow as the angle of her body changes, folds in on itself. "I'm the heir; I've been trained to rule Alba since I was old enough to know what a kingdom was. I've thought about it," she repeats.

"He's really sweet," and the last part comes out almost wistfully, like giving up on dreams.

There's really nothing Jensen can say after that. He pats her on the shoulder, giving what comfort he can. He doesn’t say anything like, ‘I know you’ll do what’s best for everyone,’ because he already knows she will.

Jessica doesn't leave mad, exactly, but she's definitely not happy, either. Kind of annoyed, kind of resigned. Jensen runs a frustrated hand through his hair, not sure if he's really done the good thing (although it's almost certainly the right thing). Jensen never expects to feel as guilty as he does.

Jensen waits ten minutes before leaving the alcove himself, to make it look less like they snuck off together. With neither of them exactly in negotiations with anyone, it doesn't matter if they've spent a little unchaperoned time together, but Jensen prefers that no one assume too much about Ackles' and Alba's positioning with regard to one another--as kingdoms--unless it would benefit them in some way.

The wait doesn't do Jensen any good.

"Hypocrite," Prince Jared says as Jensen emerges from the alcove.

"Excuse me?" Jensen asks, indignant.

"You're a hypocrite. You call me traitorous for breaking contract with Princess Sandy--a matter that you don't know anything about--but here you are, sneaking around with the crown princess from Alba while the Princess Harris is in there unaware that you can't keep it in your pants. You're the same as what you claim I am. What right do you have to judge me?" Prince Jared's voice is low, tense, angry. Almost hurt, but that makes no sense, because they're enemies, and your enemies can't hurt your feelings, because their opinions of your character don't matter. Make you angry, yes; offend you, yes; hurt your feelings, no.

"First of all, I'm not 'sneaking around' on Danneel. We're not betrothed. We never were in negotiations, and there aren't any plans for us to enter into them in the future. There's nothing to 'sneak around' on. Secondly, while my discussion with Alba is none of your concern, I'm telling you it wasn't like that."

"Oh, really? What was it like, then?" Prince Jared sneers, biting and sarcastic.

"I don't need to justify myself to you!" And Jensen doesn't, but he kind of wants to, some spark of respect left over from the way Prince Jared so painstakingly refused to take credit for a kill he didn't feel he deserved compelling Jensen to try and show he other man he is just as honorable. More motivation even than his offended pride drives Jensen to prove Jared wrong. "I'm not breaking any oaths."

"I'm not, either!" Jared retorts. His voice softens, not angry anymore, exactly. "Negotiations with McCoy weren't going to be reopened. We'd broken them off before any of the rest of it. The thing with her family happened afterward. Sandy was--she didn't need to be thinking about marriage negotiations, not after that."

And Jared looks so honestly upset at the memory that Jensen can't hold onto any of the assumptions he had about Jared, scourge of a Padalecki or not.



The next morning, Jensen doesn't hang back, exactly, as he waits for other would-be hunters to assemble. He's not hoping, exactly, but when Jared comes to offer the head of the hunt his services for the day, Jensen still feels something almost like relief. Across the crowd of impatient horses and milling dogs, Jensen catches his eye. The smile Jensen offers is small and tentative; the one Jared gives him back is bright like the first edge of sunlight breaking through mist.



Princess Sandra--called Sandy by almost everyone--arrives with a small envoy from McCoy three days before the formal boar hunt. The envoy from Cortese stops making public appearances with the envoy from Padalecki. Jensen wants to ask Jared what happened, almost does it, but reminds himself that they're not friends. Not quite enemies anymore, perhaps, except technically, but they're not buddies, and Jared would know better than to tell Jensen, anyway. Although, that last part may not be true--Jared is far more open than he ought to be for his own good. Jensen brushes the whole thing off so he doesn't have to think about why that makes him worry, just a little, about the other prince. He wouldn't be here if he couldn't take care of himself.

Jensen catches Jared and Princess Genevieve one day, tucked back in a corner of a hallway. They're having a discussion. It's heated and low, and it doesn't look pleasant. Jensen can't hear most of it and doesn't try to, despite years of habit and training to try to find any advantage over your enemies that you can, dig up as much dirt as you can, and use it the best way you know how, in every arena. Not-quite-arguments in back corners by parties known to be making alliances? Exactly the kind of people you try to eavesdrop on. Instead, Jensen pretends he doesn't see them and moves on, trying not to listen.

They see him and stop talking. Jensen can't help looking sheepish, even though he hasn't done anything. The Princess Cortese goes cool and impassive, impeccably polite and with no weaknesses at all. Jared's reaction is nothing like that. It's like he takes all the upset and anger Genevieve ices away behind her cool mask to be sharpened and aimed at Jensen.

Jared rounds to face him, stance all hostility and movement all aggression. "Did you get all the information you needed to take us down?" Jared snarls.

Jensen feels his shoulders come up, body instinctively trying to make itself look bigger, to show Jared the four-inch difference between them isn't enough to intimidate him. "What do you mean?" Jensen asks. It comes out stiff and awkward, Jensen trying and failing to close up the way Genevieve did.

"Don't try to play innocent. Everyone knows you were the one behind the way the Durand scandal blew up--and the way it got swept under the rug. Convenient, how that benefited Ackles, isn't it? So, did you get what you want this time? You can do the exact same thing here," Jared says furiously. He throws his words in Jensen's face like a curse.

"I don't know what you think I am," Jensen says, hoping he doesn't sound as hurt as he feels. He's not supposed to be able to be hurt by a Padalecki. He's supposed to know this by now. He does know it; he's just forgotten. "But I'm not that. And for the record, I didn't hear anything."

"Oh, right, yeah. I believe you when you say that. You're a good person, or some shit. I forgot. 'Ackles' is an insult in my kingdom, you know. 'Without honor.' You jump on opportunities ruthlessly, and you don't think about any advantage but your own."

"Ok, fine. Don't believe me. I can't make you. I am a good person, though. I'll prove it," Jensen says, head up, defiant. "I don't know what's going on here with you two, but I swear on my honor and my kingdom, that I will do anything in my power to help you find a solution for it, even if it has no benefit for me or Ackles. Hell, particularly if it won't do me any good. Anything you name, I'll do it."

The smile that twists Jared's lips is bitter, not malicious. The spark in his eyes is still all righteous anger. "Your honor and your kingdom?" The way Jared says it, it sounds more like, 'Let's see how long that lasts. "Well, as I'm sure you already know, my Good Sir Eavesdropper, we're trying to find a way to break negotiations off. They're far enough along that we'd need a murder or a pretty major indiscretion to do it, so, Prince Jensen of Ackles," and he says that part like the insult he means it, "if you want to help as much as you claim you do--" and for a moment Jared's expression is so smug, Jensen's afraid he's going to ask him to break truce, that he's going to have him offer up his entire family for either death or dishonor because Jensen swore to his kingdom; how could he have been so stupid as to walk straight into something like that? "--you can be found in a compromising position with me somewhere semi-public. Then Gen can find us and make a scene and we can be out of contract." Jared still has a look on his face that says he doesn't think Jensen will do it, that he's about to have everything he ever believed about Ackles proven true, and even if he's still screwed by however Jensen chooses to use this information, at least he'll have the satisfaction of being right about the other prince. Jensen almost can't breathe with relief.

"Ok," Jensen says. Jensen can't even hear himself reply from the rush of blood in his ears, but the matching looks of total shock on Jared and Princess Genevieve's faces let him know it came out all right.



Part 1
Part 3