Chapter Text
The Kingdom of Winchester was small but prosperous. Tucked away in the mountains, it knew no war and no strife beyond what its citizens caused amongst themselves. The people were loyal, the king just, and the land happy.
Their joy was compounded when the queen gave birth to a son. While a royal birth was always a cause for celebration, early on they knew the boy was special. The young omega was beautiful, even from a young age. Year by year he grew more stunning. Rumors traveled far and wide about the prince.
Flowers bloomed just for the chance to see him.
Animals scaled the castle walls to climb into his room, simply to be in his presence.
The clouds parted from the sky when he was out in the gardens so the sun might shine upon him.
No one who looked into his lovely green eyes, saw his skin sun-kissed with freckles, or gazed at his plush lips could help but love him.
On and on the stories went, some more farfetched than the others. Many thought the tales were surely exaggerated—how could so much beauty be possessed by one boy?—but then some new poet, bard, or artist would appear to praise his endless beauty.
Dean himself was unaware of the effect he had on those around him. His parents were meticulous in their choice of guards and servants, choosing those who would care for him but not fall prey to the bewitching spell of his beauty. They wished a normal life for their son; they didn’t want his beauty to attract the wrong sort of attention. Whether that be the ire of the gods or a covetous alpha king, they tried to protect him.
It was a delicate balance. As a young prince, he needed to be known to his people and know them in turn. He needed to meet with visiting dignitaries. It was impossible to keep him away from everyone. His parents were as diligent as they could be, but recognized that their son needed to live . Hiding behind closed doors was no way for any boy to grow up.
They did their best, and it seemed to work.
As far as Dean was concerned, he was an ordinary prince. The favors bestowed upon him by visitors seemed due to his rank and not his appearance. And if they paid more compliments to him than to his brother Sam, Dean assumed it was in deference to his age. Perhaps he was marginally attractive, if such a thing was important at all, but surely he possessed no more particular mark of beauty.
Someone would have told him, wouldn’t they?
Alas, his ignorance did nothing to shield him.
- - - -
“Castiel.”
He nodded at his mother in greeting and came to stand before her throne. It was near blasphemy for a god other than Chuck to have a throne or crown, but Naomi had charmed him into making this one minor allowance. Castiel didn’t like to dwell on how she might have done it.
“Yes, mother?”
She eyed him reproachfully until he sighed and took a knee before her.
“Yes, mother?” he repeated.
Pleased with the correction, Naomi beamed at him. They said her smile could light up a moonless sky. Who said that, he didn’t know, but he knew his mother was found of the poetic wording.
“I need your help, Castiel. There is a young man in the kingdom of Winchester who needs to be punished. A prince, in fact.”
“Punished?” he repeated with a frown. That was rarely Castiel’s job. As god of love, he was more often called upon to bring joy and rewards to worthy men and women. He knew love could be a burden, especially when unrequited or when a mortal died, but a punishment? “What did he do?”
“Hubris is his crime. He thinks himself, a mere mortal, to be more beautiful than me. As goddess of beauty, I cannot abide this. I have tried to teach him humility. I had his mother killed and yet he continued to flaunt his looks to any alpha who would look his way. I had his father killed and still he learned nothing. If death will not teach him to give me my appropriate due, love will have to do the trick.”
Castiel opened his mouth to ask how his mother had arranged the deaths of anyone, let alone a king and queen, without getting in trouble with the other gods. Killing people was far outside of her domain. Then, as usual, he decided against questioning his mother. She had her ways. Look at her using Castiel to punish this nameless man. She could have easily done that with the murders, asking a favor from another god and promising all sorts of rewards in exchange.
“What would you have me do?”
“You are to go to Winchester and make Prince Dean fall in love with the ugliest, most horrid person you can find. A monster in the guise of a man. Someone who will care nothing for Dean’s so-called beauty —” Naomi all but spat the word, her disdain written in every feature of her face. “—and regard him as lowly as he regards me. A match that will bring ruin to his kingdom and scorn to him and his family for having ever deigned to think they could parade this boy as anything other than the useless, pathetic creature that he is.”
Castiel winced at his mother’s tone. He understood her anger and her need for retribution (even if he didn’t agree with it), but he could hardly imagine carrying out such a request. His mother had asked terrible things of him before, and ever the obedient son, he’d carried out those orders. At first they’d been small things, seemingly innocuous, but they’d grown in magnitude and maliciousness.
This, though, was the worst.
She’d already taken this man’s parents from him and now she wanted to give him one of the worst fates imaginable. If only there were something Castiel could do to mitigate the damage.
“Who should I have him fall in love with?” he asked hesitantly. If she had someone in mind, then all was lost.
She leaned back in her throne and waved him off. “You’re a clever boy, you’ll find someone.”
Hearing the dismissal for what it was, Castiel bowed and left.
His mother’s wishes were clear, but with the power to choose for himself, Castiel would do his best to spare Dean the worst of it. He’d find someone bad, just not as bad as his mother would have wanted. Yes, Castiel would inflict a terrible life on this poor young man, but in the hope of sparing him a worse fate.
With that in mind, he spread his wings and took flight for Winchester.
- - - -
“Dean,” Kate begged. “You have to pick someone .”
“Why?” Dean insisted stubbornly. He was pouting, and he knew it, but he hated this whole topic. For years his stepmother had begged him to find a mate, and Dean had put it off as long as possible. He knew his obligations as a prince, but it didn’t mean he liked them.
“You know why,” she said gently. A servant dropped off a tray of tea, bowed, and then disappeared. “I can’t serve as Regent forever. You’re of age, Dean. You’ve been of age for some time now, yet you keep putting off taking the throne. The people will want you to take the throne eventually. And an omega ruling by himself…”
“You do it just fine,” Dean pointed out. “You’ve been doing a great job since Dad died. Who’s to say I can’t do it alone?”
“You know it’s not— Dean .” Kate’s temper flared briefly before she quelled it. “This isn’t me doubting your ability to lead. You will make an amazing king. This is me being realistic. I’ve had a peaceful reign because I care for three young princes. I am a temporary ruler. That is why it’s allowed, that’s why there are no kingdoms breathing down our backs to intimidate us, and that’s why there’s no unrest. If I were a beta or an alpha, it would make no difference. I’m a placeholder for you .”
Dean leaned back in his chair and scowled. “It’s not just that and you know it. And you’re right, it wouldn’t matter if you were an alpha or a beta or that you’re an omega. They respect you . They’ll respect me , too, even if I’m ‘just an omega.’”
“And if it were a matter of your people , I wouldn’t be pressing the issue.” Kate sighed and sipped at her tea while she collected her thoughts. Dean saw it for what it was—an attempt to regain control of the conversation—and allowed it anyway. Finally, she delicately put the cup back down. “Dean, you’ve read your history. You know what happens when there’s a lone omega ruler. Winchester will love you no matter what, but other kingdoms will see it as weakness and come for you.”
He wanted to protest, but she was right. It might be sexist and ridiculous, but society looked down on omegas as weak and in need of an alpha or beta to protect and guide them. There were few examples of omegas ruling on their own to a happy end. It almost always ended in war or marriage or assassination. Given his options, marriage didn’t sound that bad.
“ Fine ,” Dean gave in. “I’ll meet with suitors. But I refuse to marry one I don’t like.”
“That’s more than fair. I would never expect you to give up your happiness. And realistically, you shouldn’t have to. You could have anyone you wanted.”
Dean frowned. “What do you mean? Winchester is too small a kingdom to attract that type of attention. We have no vast wealth to compensate for our size. I should imagine it’ll be difficult to attract the attention of more powerful alpha rulers.”
Kate bit her lip and reflected a moment before answering. “You’re a good catch,” she said vaguely, not meeting his eye. “An omega prince as smart and kind as you will have numerous offers, I’m sure.”
Though Dean wished to press his stepmother for a more satisfactory answer than that, they were interrupted by his brothers rushing out into the gardens. Adam, only twelve, was first; he ran so fast that the kite he dragged with him almost took to the air. Sadly as soon as he stopped by their table, it sank to the ground and he whined in disappointment. Sam trailed behind and helped his little brother collect the fallen kite.
It was a touching sight and made Dean smile. He loved his brothers dearly, though very differently. Sam and he were so close in age, barely three years apart, that they’d become friends more than anything else. Adam, however, was nearly a decade younger than Dean. He was well and truly the little brother, spoiled by the whole castle. Dean included.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Sam said. He teasingly held the kite up so that Adam had to jump to try and snatch it back. After his third attempt failed, Sam handed it over. “The suitors have arrived and are waiting in the throne room to meet you both.”
Dean shot Kate an annoyed look. “You invited suitors and didn’t tell me?”
“I assumed you’d see reason,” she said with a shrug. “They’re all men and women of noble birth, more than worthy of you by name, deed, or wealth. I don’t expect anything to come of this, but I am asking you to keep an open mind.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dean fought off the impending headache that came with the prospect of listening to over eager suitors all night. He’d dealt with this type of attention before, and he didn’t care for it. Instead of trying to get to know him and talk about Dean’s interests, they all focused on flattering him. They’d go on and on about his eyes or his lips or his hair, all claiming that he was the most beautiful being they’d ever had the pleasure to behold.
It disgusted him.
That they didn’t even bother to tell the truth in their compliments irked him. He didn’t care for generic words of praise that focused on his looks. He was a skilled horseman, an avid reader, a decent singer, and so many other things besides the “pretty face” they seemed to see. It was so superficial of them to focus on his appearance—particularly when he wasn’t the splendid work of art some of them professed him to be—and reflected poorly on what they thought he found important.
The moment a suitor commented on his appearance, Dean’s interest in them immediately disappeared.
“Let’s get this over with,” Dean huffed as he pushed up from his chair. “See if any of them are even worth having a conversation with.”
“I see you’re really taking my encouragement of being open-minded to heart.” Kate stood as well. “But I agree. The sooner we greet them and weed out the ones we don’t like, the better.”
Kate lead the way back to the palace, Adam running in circles around her as he went on and on about his lessons for the day. Sam and Dean fell behind, letting their stepmother and stepbrother wander ahead while they whispered conspiratorially.
“You know about this suitor stuff?” Dean said in a low tone.
“No… but I’m not surprised. I talked to a few of them already. Kate’s right, they’re all good prospects on paper—”
“And all your typical, stuck-up alpha royalty in person?”
Sam nudged him with his shoulder. “Hey, I’m alpha royalty. Unfortunately, you’re not wrong about the visitors here. They’re friendly enough with me, but I see the way they eye Adam and the way they treat the servants. Most of them are assholes.”
“Great,” Dean said with false cheer. “I get to spend the evening not only enduring their ridiculous attempts at courtship but also pretending I don’t mind those ridiculous attempts at courtship.”
“I’ll do my best to help. Play the protective alpha brother.”
“Don’t bother. It just encourages the ones who shouldn’t be encouraged.” Dean knew that much from experience. The times his father had stepped in to spare Dean the discomfort of dealing with a persistent alpha suitor, it had only resulted in snarling alphas trying to display dominance over the other.
Taking a deep breath before crossing the threshold into the throne room, Dean tried to center himself. With a fixed smile in place, he entered the large chamber. It was going to be a long evening.
- - - -
Naomi was temperamental. Castiel loved his mother, but there was no denying that fact. She was easily offended and held grudges more than any of the other gods. When she’d given Castiel his missive to punish Dean, he suspected she was blowing some minor offense out of proportion. Still an offense, but not worthy of how it had escalated to this point.
The truth was far worse.
He’d come to the palace at Winchester to observe Dean to find out what kind of man he was. If he was to make Dean fall in love with someone he would otherwise hate, Castiel had to know Dean at least a little. For nigh on a fortnight, he’d watched the eldest prince go about his lessons, play with his brothers, listen to his people when they sought audience with him and his stepmother… All of it showed a young man who would be a just and compassionate king some day. No matter how hard he tried to find fault with the boy’s behavior, Castiel found none.
As far as he could tell, Dean had committed no wrong. He was kind and considerate, thoughtful to those around him, and never boasted of the splendid beauty held in every feature. The only crime Dean seemed to be guilty of was being born exceptionally handsome, and most surprisingly, he didn’t even seem to be aware of it.
That point had been made even more clear as Dean mingled with his guests. Any time they mentioned his beauty, he looked uncomfortable and dismissed the comment as though it were completely untrue.
It was unfortunate. Dean’s innocence didn’t change Castiel’s mission here. There was no point in talking to his mother, either. She was immoveable once her mind was made and would see everything Dean did or said a personal affront to her own beauty. Even if Dean were to throw himself before her and beg for forgiveness, it would do him no good.
At best she would give him a swift, painless death.
Dean would never be so lucky.
With a heavy heart, Castiel watched the suitors. His plan to find the least terrible seemed doomed to fail. They were all terrible matches for Dean. Abaddon, Ruby, Roman, Bartholomew, and Alastair… they each wanted him as a trophy. They would lock him away, keep him selfishly to themselves.
The only one of them even remotely considerate of Dean was Prince Victor. He quickly saw Dean’s annoyance and adjusted, trying to find common ground for conversation instead of showering him with endless praise. Dean obviously appreciated his endeavors and favored him more than the other suitors. Castiel very much doubted anything would come of it if events were left to unfold on their own, but sadly that wasn’t to be the case.
If Castiel dared push his mother’s instructions to their farthest limit, he could make Dean fall in love with Victor. Victor was the youngest son of a king, doomed to inherit nothing but what he could get through marriage. That would appeal to Naomi’s vanity, knowing that Dean’s would be so limited. Castiel doubted it would be enough to justify the decision.
If he followed her instructions to the letter, Alastair was the obvious choice. Alastair was a monster through and through, in every meaning of the word. Castiel had seen enough of the world to know the dark look in his eyes. He would tear Dean apart bit by bit, then put him back together however he saw fit. Dean’s life would be hell, and he’d be powerless to do anything about it.
All night, Castiel wavered in his decision. Obey his mother or save the innocent? As he slipped into Dean’s room that night under cover of darkness, he still did not know which course he would take.
Castiel raised his bow, taking aim at the sleeping youth. Dean lay in his bed, the moon casting him in pale blue light. He was indeed beautiful. Castiel had seen no one, god or mortal, come anywhere close to Dean’s radiance.
Later the stories would claim that the God of Love pricked himself by mistake on his own arrows, that it was his own magic that made him fall in love at the sight of the young prince. In truth, Castiel could never be so clumsy. It was all Dean, his gentle nature and his stunning eyes and the way he smiled when he was with his brothers. Castiel was bewitched by no other magic than Dean’s beautiful soul.
With a sigh, Castiel lowered his bow.
He wouldn’t hurt Dean. If that meant facing his mother’s wrath, so be it.
Quieter than any mortal could manage, Castiel moved to Dean’s bedside. An unfamiliar feeling stirred in his breast as he looked at the prince. No, that was a lie; he’d inspired that same feeling in too many others not to recognize it, but it was one he’d never felt for himself. Not like this.
He brushed a few errant strands of hair from Dean’s forehead. Dean stirred in his sleep, leaning into Castiel’s heat, but he didn’t wake. Not wanting to push his luck any further, Castiel went back to the open window and took flight.
Merely not acting would not be enough to save Dean from his mother. There was much work to be done...