Work Text:
Night One
“Why now?” Dean's almost shaking. “Where were you when my mother died, or when they took Sammy away?”
“Magic works in—”
“If you say ‘mysterious ways’ so help me, I’m going to kick your ass.”
Castiel’s mouth snaps shut, but he lifts his shoulders in a shrug that just makes Dean want to punch him even more. In the ensuing staring match, Castiel turns away first, attention diverted by Dean’s spot in the hearth, now empty. Dean stiffens, but he’s not going to be ashamed, he’s not. Castiel taps his wand impatiently against his thigh. “So… do you want to go to the ball or not?”
Dean grits his teeth. He wants to tell this douchebag to shove it, but Dean can’t forget Alastair and Meg’s smug grins when they’d mounted the carriage, or the way they’d waved at him as they rode off for the palace. And Lilith – fucking Lilith. She’s taken so much from him already.
“Sure,” Dean says at last. “Why not. I’ve got like, years of time off to make up for. Let’s party.”
Night Two
“You’re very brave for staying here, with them.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Just doing what Dad told me to do.”
“No,” Cas says. “You have the ability and the will to run at any time, but you bear all of this to earn freedom – yours and your brother’s. It’s heroic.”
That’s a first. Dean shifts under Cas’ gaze, discomfited at the suggestion that losing years working for nothing in his stepmother’s house could be due to something other than just plain stupidity, because surely if Dean were smarter he would’ve found a solution ages ago. “Heroes don’t wear rags, Cas,” he mutters.
“Is that a rule?”
“Look, whatever. Do I get to wear silver tonight or what?”
“Oh, of course, yes.” Cas pushes his sleeves up. “Let’s get to work.”
Night Three
Dean bounces up to his feet the moment he feels the air shift, that tell-tale sign that Cas has whooshed into the kitchen. “Hey. So, you know, I’m running out of ways to avoid telling the princess my name.”
Cas frowns. “Why do you need to avoid telling her your name?”
“Oh, you know, can’t have her knowing I’m really… this.”
“What’s wrong with ‘this’?” Cas shakes his head before Dean can figure out how to answer that. “Never mind, I came to tell you… You were right. This makes no sense, orders or not. I have the magic to give you something else. Ask it of me – money, a carriage, whatever else you need to leave.”
“Won’t… that get you in trouble?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Dean recognizes the determined glint in Cas’ eye. He’s seen it in the mirror every time he’s decided to do Lilith’s chores to the passive aggressive letter, or subtly sabotage Meg or Alastair’s clothes. The thought almost makes Dean smile, until he remembers what always happens when he gets caught afterward.
So Dean says, “Nah. I’ll take the ball.”
“Dean—”
“I want to go,” Dean says. “Really. The princess and I are… I have a good feeling about it.”
Cas starts a little in surprise, a flash of something passing over his face, but then it’s gone and he’s walking away. “All right. Let’s hope it’s easier to catch the mice this time.”
Denouement
“The shoe fits.” Jo lets her hands fall away from Dean’s foot, and looks up at him with a grin. “Who would have thought, huh?”
“I know, right,” Dean says, winking. “So! Heyyyy, Lilith.”
At the other side of the room, Lilith unclenches her fists and lowers herself into a curtsy. “Your Highnesses.” Alastair and Meg exchange scandalized looks, but follow their mother in echoing the honorific.
Dean stands up when Jo does, and then her heralds are rushing out of the house to announce to all that the princess has found her suitor from the ball. Dean’s heart is racing because there’s no way to know for sure that this would work, but hey, wishing for the other part worked out fine, so maybe…
There it is, that faint flutter, and Cas is standing there, face inscrutable and wand raised.
“Congratulations to both of you,” Cas says. Anyone else would say that Cas’ voice is cool, distant, but Dean knows better. “Love wins in the face of petty tyranny. So to celebrate your return to the palace—”
“Wait,” Dean says. “Cas, wait.”
Jo looks delighted. “Wow, that’s him? You weren’t kidding!”
“What?” Cas’ eyes go from narrow to very wide when Dean steps up to him. Dean is very gentle when he cups Cas’ face and presses a shaky kiss to Cas’ mouth.
Dean leans back, still vibrating. “I… don’t think I’m wrong? Am I wrong?”
Cas stares, and then the calm façade disappears with an exhale. He grabs onto Dean’s shirt for support and says quietly, “No, you’re not wrong.”
“Okay,” Jo says loudly, “I’m happy for you, but we gotta go now, before Mom’s fellas figure out what’s going on. And you guys—” she spins on Lilith and Dean’s stepsiblings, “—you’re gonna find that everyone knows how you’ve been keeping Mary Winchester’s son under lock and key as an indentured servant. Good luck dealing with that!”
Cas is easy enough to drag out of the house, but he’s still going, “What? What’s going on?” even as they mount Jo’s readied horses – Jo on one, and Dean and Cas on the other.
“We’re eloping,” Dean says. “Well, Jo’s eloping, except the Queen thinks she’s doing it with me, so she’s not gonna be on our tail until we’re well out of the kingdom.”
“But your brother?” Cas says.
“We’re picking him up on the way,” Dean says.
“After we get Tracy,” Jo says.
Dean nods. “After we get Tracy.”
They gallop the long way around the estate, taking the back route through the orchards and up into the hills. Dean isn’t foolish enough to close his eyes but he wants to; he wants to throw his arms out and bask in the fresh air and scream his relief. He doesn’t, but it’s okay, because it’s good enough to feel Cas’ arms tight around his waist.
Cas says, his voice close to Dean’s shoulder, “I’m reasonably certain it’s not supposed to go like this.”
Dean snorts. “Says who?”
“I’m… not sure?”
“Well, they can bite me.”