Chapter Text
Ping, ping, the rain pattered down on the world outside of Dean’s shelter, drumming soft patterns against the forest’s grassed ground, bringing along a coolness to the last warm days of summer. To rain during this time of the year was said to be a sign of good fortune.
Beneath the old oak tree’s thick branches and lush foliage, Dean didn’t feel the rain, though, only heard it, the promise of relief to his heated skin having to wait, as he kept his eyes closed. These were the moments Dean enjoyed the most. Not only did it keep him away from his responsibilities, but it kept the weight of being the firstborn son to the King himself off of him.
The old tree whispered inside his head, and Dean deepened their link, his hand splayed on the rough bark, his mind going mellow and liquefied, his very atoms melting under the wisdom of the tree.
Dean sent out gentle strands of thoughts into the tree, giving shape to his dream until a mythical creature took form. No one had seen the silver elk in this forest ever since Dean was a kid. Like all other sacred creatures, it had left, driven away by Dean’s presence in the realm.
Dean tried to supply the trees with as many of these dreams as he could so that they would look back on what used to inhabit the forest not long ago. He embedded the fantasy deeply into the core of the trees, as far as their roots delved into the earth until they were content and filled with life again.
The distant steps of his page echoed in Dean’s ears, bringing the dream to a stop. With a sigh and a small smile, Dean opened his eyes, turning just in time to see Alfie barreling through a cluster of bushes. His eyes closed in relief when he saw Dean and he placed his hands on his knees to take unsteady breaths.
“Your Highness, your brother is looking for you. He—”
“Calm down, Alfie. Get out of that rain.” Dean waved him closer, stepping aside so Alfie could take shelter beneath the tree as well. Dean eyed him for a moment, assessing his pageant’s state — the young boy was shaking, his clothes soaked through as he stared at Dean with wide eyes. Dean sighed, then looked away, his brows pinching together as he vowed to smack his brother upside the head for making their pageant run all the way here under the heavy rain.
“Sir, your brother, and your father—”
“They’re leaving, I know. I already said my goodbyes,” Dean cut him off, sharper than he had meant.
Dean had said his goodbyes alright, his last words to his father before storming out, leaving a sour taste in the back of his mouth.
The fight wasn’t new and Dean was sure it wouldn’t be the last. The reason was always the same — his father’s last attempt at “fixing” Dean.
So he had left as he always did when things got heated between him and his father, which was why he was in the forest even though Missouri, the castle’s healer, had warned him not to go out in the rain.
“I have no wish to—”
“A letter arrived!”
Dean stopped abruptly, his mood immediately soaring into the sky, bright as the sun, even though the expanse of gray was overflowing with clouds.
Before he could reply, Dean’s legs started running of their own accord. Leaving Alfie behind, Dean hopped on top of Chevy, the dark unicorn Dean had learned to love as a loyal companion, even though he had never really thought of her as his pet or something he could lock away. His lady was and would always be a free spirit, who could come and go as she wished.
Urging her to go faster, they started crossing the depths of The Great Woods. The wind whistled around them, hitting Dean’s face in a mix of rain and the humming of the forest, with the rustle of animals and the underbrush creaking beneath Chevy’s hooves.
As they raced by, a scared regular fox scurried to the bushes for safety, and it reminded Dean of what he was — not a full nine-tailed fox, but not completely human either. They were called Kitsune, considered an omen of bad luck in their kingdom and the reason Dean had been cursed as one even before birth. Human by day, a golden nine-tailed fox by night. Dean sometimes wondered how long it would take before the distinction between human and something wilder was so vague that he would no longer be what his father always expected of him.
During those times spent in the heart of the forest, away from humanity, and embracing all the magic nature had to offer, he had to fight the urge to give himself completely to his fox half, the piece of him with unique abilities. Like the way he could link his mind to the forest, or how his senses were greater than the regular human, allowing him to discern things like the complex compositions of greens and browns that composed The Great Woods, or the energy of each branch, or the mourning of the fallen trees. Dean felt it all the time — the earthy scents brought by the wind, the sense of pine needles against his skin that breached and filled him as deep as the marrow of his bones; the sun-dappled shades imprinting their designs deep in his skin, or the simple sound of spider webs floating against the breeze.
He felt it all, acutely and piercingly, and it felt like a burden sometimes.
Dean guessed that had been the reason he had fallen for the angel he had corresponded with for all these years in the first place. Sending each letter to Castiel had never been a burden. When Dean wrote to him, he could be himself — no curse, no strict father blaming Dean for something he couldn’t change, no responsibilities from being a prince in the Lawrence Kingdom, firstborn of John Winchester, meant to occupy the throne one day, and never feeling for a single moment that he was right for the seat. With Cas, he wasn’t someone broken anymore. And Dean loved that feeling, loved the person behind each word, each confession, each story.
It was with his thoughts swirling around Cas that Dean breached the castle grounds. He followed the dirt trail, crossing the well-kept gardens to stop by the stables and climb off Chevy just as his brother emerged from inside the wooden building.
“Finally! Where the hell have you been?”
“Jeez, Sammy, can’t a fox take a nap around here?”
Sam gave Dean his most dramatic bitch-face number six, which usually meant he was less than impressed with Dean. “You’re only a fox by night. Besides, you have superpowers.” Sam gestured with his hand to Dean’s figure. “You could go without sleep for a year and feel nothing.”
Dean narrowed his eyes at him. “I really don’t think that’s how it works.” Because his situation was unusual and completely unheard of. Even after all their research, they still didn’t know the extent of differences and similarities between Dean, who had been cursed to be a nine-tailed fox by night and a pure one. But Dean still felt sleepy when night came, and he still needed to eat and drink, or go to the bathroom, just like a regular human.
Sam retrieved a letter from his back pocket. “This just arrived from Castiel, probably letting us know when he’s arriving. You know the drill. Father and I will be away for an entire month, that’s—”
“That’s the time I have to woo Cas and break the curse,” Dean repeated the words his brother had drilled into his head. “You know… I truly like the guy. That’s not the only reason I want things between us to work.”
Actually, ‘liking the guy’ was putting it mildly, Dean was completely head over heels in love with the angel, but he shivered at the thought of starting a conversation about feelings with his little brother.
Sam smiled affectionately. “I know that, Dean, but he’s set to marry me so—”
“I know, I know. You don’t need to remind me of your crazy plan.”
And that had just been the cherry on top of the cake of a life made of misfortunes. Dean didn’t remember exactly how it had started. Sam was meant to correspond with a potential suitor named Castiel, but had hated the idea.
One day Dean had been too bored and tired of hearing Sammy whine, so he had offered to write to Cas in his brother’s place while pretending to be Sam. It had started out of nothing else better to do, a secret between the two brothers, but with time, it had become one of the most important aspects of Dean’s life, and every piece he got to share or learn from Cas was something precious he got to keep just for himself.
That was until their father announced Sam was to marry Castiel, and Dean’s heart got smashed into a million pieces, leaving a shape in his chest that should have been occupied by Castiel one day.
So Sam had come up with a plan — as soon as Castiel suggested arriving a month before he and Sam were set to marry to meet everyone, they had kept that info from John and instead, Sam had convinced their father to go away on a trip with him for the entirety of the month. Traveling around the Kingdom to thank all the nobles who had supported the news of the marriage and convince the other ones still unsure to support them was the perfect pretext to keep their father away. Of course, neither Sam nor Dean had any interest in what those stuck-up nobles had to say, especially because neither of them wanted the marriage to happen, anyway.
But Dean had to give it to his brother; it had been an awesome excuse. Their right as rulers had been questioned and weakened ever since Dean had been born and news of his curse had crossed all the corners of the realm.
John Winchester had come up with the marriage because he needed the support and the strength the connection with the Heavenly Tribe would provide, their support being crucial to ensure the Winchesters would stay on the throne. So traveling around the Kingdom to guarantee the rest of the realm’s nobles’ support on said wedding had been too tempting for John to say no.
That was how they found themselves now, with John and Sam having already said goodbye to Mary and the rest of the castle and about to leave for a month, leaving Dean with the chance to change both his and his brother’s paths.
“I still have a hard time believing in this true love’s kiss crap, though, you know that.”
Dean had tried in the past. His father had made sure of that, searching for every admirer in the kingdom willing to attempt breaking the curse by kissing Dean. As long as it was someone wealthy, John Winchester had spared no expense to locate the hero or heroine who would put an end to Dean’s curse.
It had failed every single time, and John had grown even more bitter, blaming Dean for the successive failures. Dean hadn’t bothered telling John that maybe the fact that Dean hadn’t actually loved any of them had been part of the problem.
But now Sammy was sure Cas was the one for Dean, finally the solution to all of their problems. And Dean saw it as the only way out of this mess because once it had been clear Dean was half-human, half a nine-tailed fox, the King had written a decree that whoever managed to break Dean’s curse would be granted the honor of marrying him and take a place by his side as the successor to the throne. It seemed too good for any person to shrug off, and he wasn’t even sure how much of an honor that would be to anyone, but he was willing to go to the end of the world for the chance to ask for Castiel’s hand in marriage.
So yeah, the plan might be far-fetched, and Dean lacked faith in himself, to begin with, not believing true love was meant for him after a lifetime of trying, but he was willing to give this a try if it meant being able to spend his life with Cas.
Sam opened his mouth, about to retort something, when John Winchester emerged from the stable, the rest of the committee behind him, horses framing a carriage joining them outside and soon filling the area completely.
John pulled his horse by the lead rope, a pure white stallion that John was always ready to remind Dean of was the opposite of Dean’s gentle Chevy.
“Hello, Dean,” he said sternly and gave a stiff nod.
“My King,” Dean replied, bowing his head.
“Drop the act. You weren’t this respectful when you stormed out of the crown room.”
“Father—” Sam tried to intervene.
“I reckon you’ll take the time we’re away to rethink your position?” John ignored Sam’s attempt at soothing the conversation, directing his harsh tone at Dean.
Dean took a slow, deep breath. He knew John blamed him for being cursed… even though he wasn’t even born when the curse had been cast and lacked any kind of responsibility over it. But John had never forgiven how Dean’s birth had stained the Winchesters’ reputation and John’s position as a ruler, never mind that the blame for all of what had happened had been John’s.
“I told you I’m done with your experiments on me. Nothing has worked so far. Maybe I’m meant to be—”
“Broken?” John interrupted. “Defective all your life?”
Something sharp constricted Dean’s heart with a tight grip, anger, and sadness invading his veins in the same way it always did when his father spoke like that. “I was going to say ‘be myself’. Fox and human, can’t I be both?”
“I believe you’re forgetting the fact that as my son, you can’t—”
“And I believe,” Mary’s long blonde hair billowed in waves over her shoulders as she joined the clearing, coming to a stop beside Dean, “we’re all forgetting we’re a family, and I’m proud of and love both of my sons very much.”
Dean couldn’t help but smile, the curl of lips immediately faltering at John’s surly words, “Mary, we’d already said our goodbyes.”
“I figured I could see you off anyway,” Mary replied, curling an arm around Dean’s.
The rest of the goodbyes went in a rush, with Dean hugging his brother and whispering thanks for his help when it came to giving Dean an opportunity with Cas. He bid goodbye to his father before both King, Prince, and guards took off and Dean was left alone with his mother.
“So, Castiel is on his way?” Mary started as soon as Dean joined her after he had finished reading Castiel’s letter in private.
“Yes, tomorrow he’s—” Dean’s thoughts came to a screeching halt, and he whipped his head around to stare at his mother. “Wait, how did you know?”
She smiled smugly while they kept making their way through the back gardens. “Do you think you’d be able to hide from your father something as important as Sam’s betrothed coming to visit without me intervening?”
Dean chuckled and had to give it to her. No matter what John claimed or made it look like, the true ruler and commander of the castle had been Mary Winchester ever since they had gotten married. “Yeah, I should have guessed. You’re awesome like that.”
“So, he wrote to you again?”
“Yeah, I just read—” Dean sucked in a breath, quickly correcting himself, “I mean, Sam! Sam got the letter and let me know Cas is coming.”
“Huh, huh.” Mary smiled knowingly. “I just hope you and Sam know what you’re doing.”
Dean squeezed her hand. “Thanks for having our back.”
“When don’t I, young man?”
Dean smiled, and they made the rest of the way in amicable silence.
The sunset was upon them, so Dean excused himself to his bedroom. One of his father’s rules had been to never turn in front of anyone, and until this day, no one but his family had seen him turn into a nine-tailed fox. But there were still rumors, and between whispers in the shadows, everyone knew.
Watching the raindrops falling along the window, Dean sighed happily, thankful that the rain was back, his skin already drumming with the eagerness to turn and make his way outside to feel the drops of water against his fur.
An intense shiver ran down his spine, the first signs of the change already taking over his body as Dean took a shaky breath. The sky was coated in clouds, but Dean could feel it, the moon at its apex permeating his skin, molding his whole body anew. It used to hurt, used to feel like he was being dragged to hell, hooks hanging from his body and pulling him apart. But nowadays, he was used to the throbbing sensation, no more than an itch wherever his ribs broke or his back snapped, his heart racing with magic, his stomach revolving with animalistic trepidation, and nine individual tails coming into shape. Falling to all fours, his clothes disappeared into the magical pocket they always went to until he was back in his human form. A blinding light surrounded him as his fur grew thick and golden. His nails turned into claws, eyes even more vibrant, framed with his fair coat until, instead of whining, Dean was growling through his fox lungs.
Dean made his way out of his bedroom. At that hour, most of the corridors were empty as he made his way across the castle, heading downstairs and through the kitchen’s back door to meet the rain outside.
Nearing the clotheslines, only too late, Dean noticed Becky there, trying to salvage the clothes that were already mostly dry. Becky was a young farmer’s daughter and their most recent maid. She had been very wary of starting working there from what Ellen had told him, mostly because of the rumors that a nine-tailed fox wandered along the castle’s grounds.
As soon as their eyes met, she dropped her basket full of clothes and released a scream. She staggered back, muffling a high-pitched cry with her hands as her legs buckled under her before she whimpered, “Don’t hurt me, please!” Scrambling to her feet, she left the clothes forgotten on the ground, running back to the castle’s walls’ safety.
Dean had gotten used to this type of reaction. Ever since he was a child there had been cold glances and hostile words, everyone too afraid of the King’s wrath to do anything too forward, though most made sure to either avoid Dean or let him know he wasn’t welcome.
But it still felt like a strike every single time, his gut twisting with the sharp realization that he didn’t belong, that there was something utterly broken in him, something that made him different from the rest of the world.
So every night, Dean went to his bedroom and hid away from prying eyes, but it still didn’t stop the anger and fear of who he was.
He was so wrapped in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the man bumping into him until Dean got knocked on his ass.
“Fuck, ouch. Who dares?”
Dean’s fight came to a stop when Bobby placed a hand over his head, patting the furred spot a couple of times.
“How dare you pet me like a dog?” Dean argued, even though his uncle couldn’t understand him. “Hey! You just wait until I— Oh, shit, right there,” he purred when Bobby scratched a particularly sweet spot behind his ear. “Oh yes, thanks!”
Bobby chuckled, and Dean came to himself, snarling and baring his teeth before he made a move to bite Bobby’s hand, successfully making his uncle pull away.
“What got your tails in a twist?”
“Ha ha, very funny, old man!” Dean growled.
“C'mon, you gotta admit this one never gets old.” Adjusting the bundle of wood on one arm, Bobby’s expression sobered. “You shouldn't mind her, y'know? Don't care what people think about you. So what if foxes have a bad rap? You're you, and you're one of the good ones, boy.”
Something in Dean settled with those words. Even though Bobby wasn’t his real uncle, he had grown up with John, and so the Winchester family had adopted him as one of their own. Like Bobby used to say, family don’t end with blood, and both Sam and Dean loved him as such.
“And don’t worry about your fight with your father,” Bobby continued. “I'm gonna have another talk with John once he returns. Gotta knock some sense into that stubborn fool.”
If there was someone the King listened to, it was Bobby, and Dean didn’t doubt the old man would at least give it a try, which he was forever grateful for.
“I've heard we've got a visitor coming. Your mother made sure everyone knew to be ready to welcome him. The fact that she waited for your father to leave before saying something has nothin' to do with you, right?”
“Nope, dunno what you mean,” Dean barked
Bobby smiled wittingly. “Huh, I see.”
Dean could barely sleep that night, knowing that the next morning, he would finally get to see Cas. The angel had described himself over the years and even sent Dean a few portraits of himself that Dean had kept in a drawer in his bedroom. But still, finally being face to face with the one he had fallen for over the years through letters was almost enough to make Dean run the entire perimeter of the forest surrounding the castle’s grounds until his muscles were sore and his mind had stopped racing with thoughts of their first meeting the next day.
The pitter-patter of the rain soon mirrored Dean’s heart as he fell asleep in his fox form, only to flutter his human eyes back open to the morning’s light.
Rolling over along the mattress, Dean took a contented sigh and swung his legs off the bed.
Padding his way to the window, he immediately opened it to watch the rainbow that had risen around the castle’s front garden, not minding the rain hitting his face and sweeping through his clothes as he stood there with a smile.
That was, until something large and dark crossed the edge of the sun and disrupted the light for a moment. Frowning, Dean blinked at it a few times before realizing what it was.
Holy crap.
Leaving his shoes behind in his bedroom, Dean ran downstairs, two steps at a time, his stomach jolting with excitement as he rushed through the front door and crossed the courtyard to the opposite side where a giant fucking dragon was currently landing.
Dean felt his heart in his throat, and not just because this was his first time seeing a dragon up close, but because sliding from the dragon’s deep blue torso, framed by black-feathered wings, messy hair, and the brightest, clearest blue eyes Dean had ever seen, was who Dean could only guess was Castiel.
Dean held his breath, both of them frozen in time as they stared at each other, and not for the first time, Dean understood why he had longed for this moment for so long.
The way his heart fluttered as he held Cas’ gaze was just another reminder of how madly in love he had been with Cas even before he had first laid eyes on him.
Now he just needed to follow through with this crazy plan and hope Cas would return his feelings by the end of the month.