Christine (spaghettitoes) wrote in spaghettific, @ 2011-09-01 12:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | au, bbtp, destiel, rating: nc-17, supernatural |
SPN: Lord help us
\o/ BBTP Baby!
Title: Lord Help Us
Author: Spaghettitoes
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Samantha
Word Count: ~3,200
Rating: This is BBTP folks
Warnings: Sam=Samantha but she doesn’t do anything Sam wouldn’t do. I consider AU a required warning.
Summary: Sir Castiel DeNova exercises his right of prima notca when two of his subjects are arranged in marriage.
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with the show at all, which seriously needs to be addressed.
A/N: Historically accurate in A Knight’s Tale kind of way. Thanks to my darling wifey Wildepet for the beta, even if we hold differing opinions on commas. I play kind of fast and loose with additional names, I think Hunith actually has some Merlin association but it doesn’t hurt to use it here.
The problem with arranged marriage, John Winchester had observed, was that one inevitably ended up married to a complete stranger. His own pursuit of Mary had been dogged as a result and the marriage a tumultuous one, as much as he had loved her in his way. Thus he resolved that his son Dean would not face the same fate and when he brokered marriage to the local magistrate’s daughter both men agreed their children would know each other and enter marriage as friends.
The problem with arranged marriage, Dean Winchester would frequently observe, is that the same girl is pushed in your face at every opportunity until you’re sick of the sight of her. Dean had a lot of respect for Magistrate Hunith, even if his parents had been so cruel as to name him Lucifer but there was nothing that could make Dean any less tired of his daughter Samantha.
In all honesty Samantha was a nice girl and there were enough suitors ready to take Dean’s place. The problem was they had spent too much time together, met at every formal occasion, been sat together at dinners and encouraged (nay obliged) to visit the other at every opportunity. Until eventually Samantha was just...Sammy. She was more like a sister to Dean than anything he wanted to marry. He was so bored of her that sometimes he thought he’d rather have nothing to do with women at all.
Their fathers looked upon their jovial friendship as a sign of how prosperous and productive a match it would be. They patted themselves on the back at every opportunity.
Dean spent his time in the burgh organising hunts for his father’s friends under the auspices of learning how to manage the estate. The nights spent under the stars were more pleasurable than the stifled atmosphere of their stately home, devoid of all joy since his mother had passed. Dean knew that one day the land would be his; a weight of responsibility would fall upon his shoulders that he had no interest in. None had any doubts that Dean could take up his father’s mantle and he was well respected in the burgh. No matter how much he questioned it, Dean kept proving himself in the eyes of others. The responsibility fell too easily on his shoulders and with every word of praise (or marriage) Dean feared he was a step closer to becoming his father.
Samantha had confidence in her betrothed’s future: he stood for what was right, he unerringly looked after the welfare of others. He had a strength she respected and admired, much to her chagrin. Certainly, with the subtle influence a magistrate’s daughter could wield, there would be no stopping them. She trusted him with her life, with her future: she simply had no interest in bearing his children.
Samantha and Dean had decided, the very day their fathers set the date for their wedding, that their marriage would be regrettably absent of offspring. A fact no doubt, that would be greatly lamented by all in the burgh.
The master of the land, Sir Castiel DeNova, ruled with a patient kindness that drew respect and loyalty from all his subjects. Castiel had inherited his father’s lands and titles three years before but the people under his rule knew prosperity. The courts were fair, the crops were abundant year upon year and the market became famous throughout England for its rich produce and array of artisans. A young leader he may have been but when Castiel gathered his nobles at court, each looked at him with loyalty.
This last year some of the nobles had brought with them their children. Amongst them sat Dean Winchester at his father’s side, more and more responsibilities his burden. Samantha sat quietly with her father, a gentle supportive arm there when he wavered. Castiel found each of them a friend, people on the cusp of the life and responsibility he had taken on. He spoke warmly with them, his confidence growing as he came to know the people he would build his kingdom with.
The burgh’s prosperity soon came to the notice of other knights, some grew jealous of Sir Castiel. They sought to undermine his power and for a few months times had been trying for Castiel and his subjects. They challenged his power, envious of the wealth and loyalty he commanded.
When they met again Winchester and Hunith thought to bring him good news, hoping in some way to lighten the knight’s spirits. The nobles sat round the table to feast, richly prepared food sat on each table and wine in every glass when John and Lucifer announced the wedding.
Sir Castiel DeNova was known for his kindness, generosity and firm adherence with tradition so his response came as no surprise.
“…hope that, with your agreement sire…” John Winchester spoke with unnatural confidence in the presence of the knight, a spark of resilience that had long since faded from his private life.
Dean let his father talk on as he looked at Samantha and whispered, “I hope you’re ready for DeNova, I hear it’s been a while.”
“Quiet!” Samantha held a special chide in her voice only for Dean, “You shouldn’t say such things to me.”
Dean pouted comically behind his goblet, “Never bothered you before.”
“Castiel was never in earshot before.” She smiled graciously as her father took over the announcement, spilling endless gratitude and flattery at a man she had come to consider a friend. Had she been so inclined Samantha would have blushed but instead she simply looked exceedingly uncomfortable.
“You look like you ate a wasp.” Whispered Dean, patting her hand with false reassurance.
“Castiel never uses prima nocta, it’s just his way of…”
“Giving something to the happy couple.” There was an undeniable grin on Dean’s face as he congratulated himself.
“He would never...”
“Well I’m not taking your honour. Why not Cas?” Dean tipped his cup to their host and smiled, “He’s handsome, wise…experienced.”
Samantha rolled her eyes at the way Dean wiggled his hips out of everyone’s sight but hers.
“Or do you have dreams of being taken by some clumsy stable boy? Because you should say now, I’ll try and find you someone half way capable.”
“I will kill you in your sleep.” She vowed half heartedly.
Castiel stood, bowing minutely to the proud parents before raising his goblet to Dean and Samantha.
“I wish you both a long and happy marriage that will bestow upon you both many happy years. In recognition of my approval of this union and in full acknowledgment of my right of prima nocta -” Dean tipped his cup to Castiel with a nod that surprised the knight and embarrassed Samantha endlessly “- I invite you to marry in the great hall of my home and will supply you with a feast in hopes that the years to come may be rich and joyous.”
A polite and approving wave of applause rippled through the assembled nobles and Castiel waved to his musicians, declaring everyone should dance and celebrate the joyous news. Despite his joy at the news Castiel fell back into his chair with a tired sigh as couples around him rose and took to the floor.
“Sammy, pssst!” Dean tugged at his betrothed’s arm, pulling her back from a conversation with her father.
“What?!” Remembering herself Samantha coughed politely and smiled angrily at Dean, “What is it dearest?”
“I’m going to speak to Cas. You coming?”
“No thank you Dean…” She nearly spat each word at him, “I’m discussing our wedding with my father.”
“Well…” Dean stood up and grabbed his goblet, “Have fun.”
Dean slapped Samantha on the back and casually strolled over to Castiel, ignoring the punctuated coughing fading into the distance. He slipped into an empty chair beside Castiel and smiled, tapping his goblet to the one held in Castiel’s hand.
“Congratulations on your nuptials.” Offered Castiel with a tired but sincere smile, “You do know Dean, that I would not actually enforce my right of prima nocta. I offer only…”
“I know.” Dean smiled, “But I also know it’s been a while since your wife returned to manage her family’s estate.”
“Nevertheless…”
Dean laughed warmly, “My friend, Samantha and I have no intention of….consummating our marriage. I would rather her honour went to a good man like you than some…” Dean’s hand and goblet made circles in the air as he searched, “Guy.”
Castiel watched Dean with wonder and confusion.
“And I’d rather raise your kids than some farm-hand’s.” Dean rested a gentle hand on Castiel’s shoulder and patted him reassuringly, falling into silent reflection for a moment.
“Is everything okay Dean? Are you and Samantha not…”
“Sammy’s…ah she’s okay. I just don’t…she’s like a sister! I’d rather she were happy…I were happy.” Dean patted Castiel on the back, “And you my friend – you don’t tell me all of your troubles, I know that. But if you could be….” Dean’s goblet began to form orbits again.
“Happy?” Castiel smiled with gentle understanding.
Dean patted Castiel’s back, “Yeah. And you’d make Sammy happy…” Dean winked – twice. “I know you would.”
Castiel smiled and put his goblet down, taking Dean’s and helping his friend to his feet, “Come, I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
The wedding arrived in a flurry of pomp and formality that Dean did his best to tolerate. When the ceremony arrived Castiel watched benevolently from the side, both of his friends certain in their fate as he tried to ignore his own problems for a while. There was good food, lively music and dance and when the evening came, on observance of the tradition, Dean and Samantha happily retired to separate rooms. Dean said goodnight to his wife with a wink and a smile, tactless reassurance whispered in a cavernous corridor.
Dean sat in his room looking out the window, contemplating the problems he would inherit from his father, the ones that seemed to be mounting around Castiel. It came too easily for him, the problems in the world and although the solutions came almost as easily it burdened his thoughts. It dwelled on him that he had been chosen to burden the problems of the world around him, why such a responsibility fell on such a humble man.
As the final guests left his sight Dean decided to retire for the night, the sound of the servants cleaning away the debris from their celebration a distant lullaby. He kicked his boots off as he crossed the room to the hearth. As he was adding a few more logs to the fire there was a knock on the door. Before he could move or think to call out the door opened and Castiel walked into the room with a mask of confidence.
Dean looked up at his host and smiled, “Cas, is something wrong?”
Castiel cleared his throat, “I have come here because of my right of prima nocta.”
Dean’s smile grew, “Good for you! Well go for it…”
Castiel coughed subtly, his eyebrows rising briefly as he waited for Dean to notice the firmly closed door behind him.
“Oh.” Dean was surprised but he stood his ground and watched Castiel move closer. “Right.”
“On your knees Dean.”
There was a firm, cold line of determination in Castiel’s voice that urged sympathy in Dean. He could see the tension weighing on his friend’s face; the confusion and self-doubt that had grown in the months that passed. A shadow had grown over him as he saw fellow knights challenge his rule, question his ability to lead and threaten his people.
An instant before Castiel’s determination could falter Dean stepped forward and dropped softly to his knees in front of him.
“Dean…?” Castiel’s voice cracked as it became abundantly clear he hadn’t thought beyond the first step.
Dean smiled, soft and reassuring as he reached for the laces on Castiel’s trousers, “I love you Sire.” He confessed softly, “I love and trust you as my friend and leader.” His fingers danced around loosening laces but were stilled as Castiel’s hands spread over them. With a glint in his eyes Dean smiled and let his palm flatten out and press against the burgeoning erection, “Never doubt the love and loyalty you engender in all your subjects.”
Castiel swallowed hard and let his eyes flutter closed for a second before breathing in deeply and looking down at Dean, “Undress.”
“Yes sire!” Dean was on his feet in an instant, hands hurriedly untying the laces on his tunic. As he drew the fabric over his head Dean looked at Castiel with a question.
“I am…watching.” Castiel reassured him.
Dean smiled and stepped closer, reaching forward to hold Castiel’s wrists and pull him closer, “When I was young and accompanied my father to market he would chastise me for touching the merchant’s wares. He said we look with our eyes, not our hands.” Dean pulled Castiel closer and encouraged his hands to spread across his stomach, “I happen to disagree with that sentiment.”
Castiel smiled, a huff of laughter escaping as he followed Dean’s insistent tug and moved closer. His fingers spread out across Dean’s soft skin, registering the hard muscle beneath it with relish. Castiel drew his hands up Dean’s side and sweeping over his chest.
Dean reached forward with a smile and loosened Castiel’s dress tunic, “You appear to be without your man-servant sire. Permit me to help you.”
“I am obliged.” Castiel’s lithe fingers played fleetingly with Dean’s skin until Dean pulled his tunic from him. Without warning Castiel was pulled close to Dean, his mouth available and pressed close. Castiel seized the opportunity, exploring his depths while he held their bodies together.
Castiel slipped his hands down the back of Dean’s breeches, cupping and kneading his backside - encouraging Dean to wantonly roll his hips against Castiel.
The last of Dean’s clothes reached the floor gently and his knees inter-laced with Castiel’s as their kisses became more enthusiastic. Dean moaned with frustration as he tried to remove Castiel’s breeches, hands snaking between their bodies with determination.
Castiel smiled around their kiss and pushed Dean subtly away, slipping the fabric from his skin. “On your knees Dean.” He repeated, nodding gently towards the bed.
Dean’s response was a throaty groan of approval as he turned and pushed back the bed curtains, leaping into the mattress enthusiastically.
Castiel walked on his knees across the mattress, sliding in behind Dean and laying kisses up the length of his spine as he guided him forward with a firm hand on his back.
Castiel rested, his face nestled in the cleft of Dean’s neck and their bodies pressed together front to back. He lapped and kissed at the tender skin afforded to his mouth while his right hand drew down the length of Dean’s body, slipping over the top of his thigh before curving around and up to play carefully between Dean’s cheeks.
“I should afford you this opportunity to challenge my right.” Castiel’s voice was rich and deep, his nose caressing Dean’s skin minutely as he looked down with captured interest to where his fingers were lost to Dean’s body.
Dean pushed into Castiel’s ministrations with a deep, reverberating moan, “It would be against my nature to deny you, Sir Castiel.”
“Your loyalty is…” Castiel pushed forward slowly, hands holding firmly to Dean’s hips he released a long, slow breath of liberated desire.
Dean smiled, a heady combination of physical sensation and pride overwhelming him as Castiel began to move, slowly at first but with building confidence. Dean’s arms weakened and he let himself fall further forwards, his body awash with lightning sparks of energy and passion. He heard his name being spoken breathily behind him and returned the cry, Castiel’s name broken and ground into the mattress as Dean let his face sink into the rich bedding.
“Dean?!” With a final, terse warning Castiel pulled up and drew Dean back with him, resting on his haunches as Dean sank deeper into position with gasping approval. “Dean…” Castiel, unable to still himself completely, rose and fell subtly beneath Dean as his hands moved cautiously to grasp Dean’s thighs. “Such compliance is…unanticipated and somewhat…unwelcome.” Castiel’s voice was sumptuous and his words spoken between lavish kisses bestowed upon Dean’s neck and back.
“Pardon me, sire?” Dean felt the draw of Castiel’s rough jaw on his skin and assumed all rational thought abandoned.
“Had I wanted to - ” unable to resist, Castiel strengthened his upwards movement and felt Dean tremble above him “- ride alone…I would not have sought out…your company my friend.” The building desire and increasing pace challenged his muscles but as he encouraged Dean downwards with subtle pressure his message became clear in Dean’s mind and the men began to move together.
With building pace Dean pawed at Castiel, grabbing at his thighs to try and hold himself together as he was overwhelmed with the charge that built up in his every muscle. Castiel held firmly to Dean’s waist, guiding each firm hard movement until Dean was incomprehensible and Castiel felt himself coming apart.
Castiel let his right hand drift lower, grasping Dean’s erection firmly and pulling in strong steady grasps. Dean arched up and back, pinning Castiel in place with every demanding downward thrust, head falling back onto Castiel’s shoulder.
Trembling and with Castiel’s name gasped towards the sumptuous velvet canopy Dean came apart, spilling himself into Castiel’s hand. He pushed down a final time, feeling Castiel release inside him, throaty groan emitted into Dean’s shoulder and shaking his very bones.
They stilled together in place, Dean reaching back to paw his hand through Castiel’s hair as he lavished slow and thoughtful kisses onto Dean’s neck and collar.
“So…” Dean coughed and cleared his throat, unaware of just how much he had punished it. “Do you ride often sire?”
Castiel moaned a frustrated ‘no’ into Dean’s skin, hands still taking in the glorious texture, “But you have reinvigorated my interest.”
“It would be my pleasure to accompany you in the future.” Dean turned his face to Castiel’s and kissed him playfully.
The following morning Samantha looked up through the sunlight to Dean’s face as he entered the dining room. She nodded politely at him as he sat down and grabbed a handful of bread.
“You could eat like a human being.” She sighed, returning attention to her food.
“I’m starved.” He advised while eyeing a plate of bacon.
Castiel entered the room with a proud flurry, smiling at Dean then Samantha as he walked to the head of the table and sat down. Dean smiled and winked at Castiel before returning to his food.
Samantha looked up naively from her breakfast and smiled smugly at Dean, “I told you Castiel was a good man.”
Dean nodded, pointing a lump of bacon to her in salute, “Damn good.”
“We will need to move my possessions to your home.”
Dean nodded, “And I need to get interviewing stable hands.” He cast a slow glance down the table then back to Samantha, “After my hunting trip.”
“What?”
“Yeah, Cas needs a break. We’re going on a hunting trip.” Dean pointedly picked up a knife and stabbed it into a piece of cheese with a grin, “Out riding in the fresh air, just what he needs.”