Warnings: mentions of a battle, injury
Summary: In a AU, the Winchesters are part of the royal family of France. Prince Samuel Wesson must escape the forest that is run by Germany’s King, Crowley. While running for his life, he meets a peasant girl, the Reader, and he asks her to escort him out of the forest.
Author’s Note: So… I decided to start up a series! The first part of this is technically a prologue, since it doesn’t have much of the reader in it. Please, please, please tell me if you like the idea! If so, I would absolutely love to stick with this story! I have a lot of really cool ideas and where to place each character from the Supernatural series!
Smoke loomed over the charcoaled remains of the newly burned kingdom, bloody bodies scattered in between the ruins and ash. Those who survived the brutal attack of Germany’s forces yearned medical attention, seeking forth towards the nearest village due west in large masses, protected by swordsman. Though the holocaust of flames engulfed the village surrounding the castle, the ancient structure still stood in its place. Germany’s knights scattered about the entrances, preventing allies to the French to reclaim its rightful monarchy.
Blood dripped down his upper lip. His heart beat throbbed in his ears. His vision slightly blackened on the edges. He stumbled forward, gripping onto a keg for support, limping towards the draw bridge of the kingdom in hopes of escaping. A cough vibrated within his chest, the impact rough on his weak body. He stumbled ahead a little and hunched forward to clutch his abdomen.
“The Prince!” cried one of the knights. “He’s going for the draw bridge!”
The Prince glanced back at his rivals, determination drowning in his irises, his lips curling into a sneer. He broke out into a limp-like jog, pushing forward towards the exit. Come on, he encouraged himself, his speed increasing slightly.
The bridge began to clank its way closed, the Prince running faster despite his legs crying out in agony. He reached its wooden surface, the bridge at a steep angle. He braced himself to climb in spite of the pain riving through his veins. He jumped from the bridge’s edge, landing onto the cobblestone with a thud, a great pain shooting through his leg. He yelped, clutching onto his ankle, gritting his teeth to distract himself.
“Lower the bridge!” a knight demanded from the other side, the Prince breaking from his trance.
He hoisted himself up from his sitting position, hobbling towards the mouth of the forest, its trees only meters away.
The sound of the bridge lowering propelled the Prince to engage in a sprint, his body crying for him to rest, though if he were to, he would surely be captured and possibly executed.
Five meters away stood the lining of the woods, the bridge falling closer to the ground.
Four meters away the trees stayed, the knights drawing their swords.
Three meters away laid the green scenery, the bridge clashing onto the stone path.
Two meters away located the altitudinous oaks, the soldiers raging out their roars.
One meter away erected the green shrubbery, where freedom greets him with open arms.
He crossed the lining of the forest, tree roots covering the earth and wild flowers sprouting upon patches of grass. He dared not look back, for his enemies may just be feet away from him. Footsteps echoed through the woods as the knights stomped through the forest in search for the prince. The Prince dashed as fast as he possibly could, zigzagging in order to confuse the guards on his exact path.
After what seemed like hours of running, the prince finally desired a much needed rest, slumping down onto an abandoned tree stump, stretching out his limbs. A moan seeped through his parted lips, his breathing rapid.
“Ha!” he called out, a laughing tone on the edge of his voice. “Didn’t catch me, now did you, boil-brained snipes?!” His shouts echoed through the forest, his chortling seizing. “And you call yourself knights,” he muttered. His eyes fell to the patches of grass that lie beneath him, a lump forming in his throat out of fear.
Merely seconds passed and an arrow whizzed past his ear, the sound echoing through his eardrum. He broke from his somber mindset, parting his mouth in surprise, staring upon the arrow that has no lodged itself into the tree only inches away from his head. “Oh no,” he murmured in panic, scurrying to reach his feet, rushing off into the trees.
Patches of dry blood coated his face and hands, dirt staining his formal clothes. His breathing steadied as his gait grew slower and slower. He looked upon his surroundings, his eyes falling onto a village, a small smile growing upon his features. He limped himself towards the nearest hut, knocking weakly upon the door.
“Just a second!” a female’s voice hollered through the walls, clattering noises sounding. The Prince waited patiently, though his foot tapped in pure anxiety, glimpsing over his shoulder to note if the soldiers were nearby.
The door of the small house creaked open, a girl, only the looks of age of seventeen gazing upon the strange man upon her doorstep. She dressed in peasant’s attire, a raggedy dress with patches scattered about its pattern and an apron tied tightly around her petite form. Her eyes widened at the sight of the unfamiliar figure standing before her. “What… what happened to you?” she stammered, her eyes glancing up and down.
“Kind Lady, I am Prince Samuel of France. My kingdom has been compromised by the Germans. Both my mother and father are captured and possibly dead. My sister is dead. I was the only royal to escape from the kingdom. I ask of you, please, allow me to come inside.”
“This may sting a little,” you murmured softly, studying your eyes upon Prince Samuel, your warm, Y/E/C eyes meeting his hazel hues for a brief moment, before tearing your gander away and fixated it onto his forehead wound. You dabbed a cloth coaxed with rum to his injury, the Prince gritting his teeth together to suppress the pain in which his body possessed.
You noted his tense state, shaking your head slightly. “You do not have to pretend to be tough in front of me, for I do not mind if you brew a few tears.” Your statement hinted a small laugh at the edge of your voice, a tiny smile coming to your lips. Samuel glanced down upon you, his expression blank, though soon a small smile spurted on his lips.
“Fair enough.” He nodded. “You know of me, though I do not know of you. What do I have the honor to calling you, fair maiden?”
“Maiden?” you chortled loudly, setting the cloth down upon the wooden table, hoisting your body up from your stool. “I am merely just a peasant in your eyes, your majesty. You truly have no need to name me maiden.”
“You have so kindly taken me into your care, for I owe you something as simple as that,” Prince Samuel smiled softly, his head bobbing a small nod.
You shook your head slightly, drenching a spare cloth into a pail of water. You marched back to the Prince and beginning to gently scrub the remains of his battle from his face. “I met your sister once, Prince Samuel. She was not as kind as you are to me. She spat on my boots and called my family and me horrid remarks. Remarks you would not hear a drunken man call his wife. She had quite the mouth on her, if I say so myself.” You paused for a brief moment, shaking your head. “I should have not disrespected the Princess. Please, forgive me.”
“No, no. You are truthfully correct, for my sister and I never truly had a bond of love as a sibling would believe to have. She did her duties, and I did mine. We rarely crossed paths. Now, you did not answer me when I questioned you of your name.”
“Of course,” you spoke softly, rinsing the dry blood from the wet cloth into the pale, flattening the cloth out onto the table to dry. “I am Y/N.”
“Y/N,” the Prince repeated to himself. “Quite the beautiful name.”
“Oh, well, how you do flatter me, your highness.” A small grin seeped onto your features. You walked into another section of the home, soon bringing back a heaping pile of gauze.
“Do you live alone?” Samuel questioned, glancing around the environment, noting that there was only one bed in sight.
“No, your majesty, for I live with my mother and sister.” You offered him a small smile, cautiously slipping off his boot. “Sorry,” you murmured, noting his sudden tension. You slowly rolled his pant leg up, exposing his swollen ankle. You then wrapped the gauze hesitantly around his ankle, then and now glancing up upon your patient.
“Please, enough with the titles, Y/N. I ask of you only to call me Sam. Samuel is far too formal, in my eyes.”
“Very well, Pri-” You paused a brief moment, your words dangling in the air, “Sam.”
Sam’s face lit up with a beam of a smile, his one leg swinging back and forth, banging against the side of the table. “May I ask you a question?”
“Are you familiar with the surrounding areas?” Sam inquired, staring upon you, his hazel eyes flashing a small tale of curiosity. He seemed intrigued. Fascinated. But why?
“Before my father passed, he would escort me through the woods, pointing out each flower or bush or tree. We could walk for hours. I believe myself to know the area, yes. Why ask?”
“Would you be willing to make the journey with me to escape the forest? I have been locked away in a castle all my life, so I have no prior knowledge of the forest.” His statement rolled off his tongue without previous thought.
You eyed the stranger, your eyebrow flicking up into a small arch. “To escape the forest could take days, your majesty. I truly do not have the time capacity to take you on your ‘adventure.’ I-I do the chores. I cannot just… drop everything and leave.”
Sam chewed on his bottom lip, sniffling loudly. He slowly bobbed his head in a slow nod. “It’s truly a sad moment we are cascaded in… for I thought we were truly bonding.”
You heaved out a longing sigh, your top teeth overlapping your bottom lip. “I can supply you with clothes to provide camouflage. I do hope you understand why I cannot do this.”
Sam nodded, a small smile tweaking on his lips. “I just presumed it would be a way for us to grow closer.”
Your lips jarred to a slight degree, shaking your head. “You may borrow some of my father’s belongs,” you spoke, strutting away into a separate room. A few clattering noises came about, Sam’s eyebrows furrowing. “Ah yes, here they are.” You walked back into the main room of the cottage, a pair of beige trousers and a gray, old coat lying within your arms. “I believe these will fit.”
“I give you my gratitude, Y/N,” Sam spoke, bidding her a gentle nod.
A cloud of silence coated the both of you for a moment.
“You can change in the back room,” you stated, handing him the clothes.
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course,” Sam murmured, standing from his sitting position, a soft grunt sounding through his voice box. He slowly hobbled towards the room, you pressing your palms against the wooden table, puffing out a sigh. Your facial expressions cried out what have I gotten myself into?
“The well is not too far up the path,” you informed, walking along the trail through the village, the townspeople continuing on with their hectic lives, some bidding you hello. Sam’s eyeballs scanned the environment, soaking up their daily schedules. You noted his stare, a small grin twitching upon your features. “Curious, aren’t we?”
“Why, yes,” he answered, his attention upon you once more. “Your class lives in such a…”
“Horrifying? Disgusting? Unsanitary?” You rattled off, eyeing Sam.
“Interesting manner,” Sam concluded, flicking an eyebrow up. “I have never been around such… pleasant people. Everyone among the town seems quite joyful.” Sam turned to face you, his eyes gleaming against the setting sun, the beautiful hues of the evening sky reflecting in his irises. He adjusted the holster around his waist, his sword carrier brushing against his leg.
Your lips parted, your soft breath lulling within the air. “It humors me on how you would say that.”
“And why is that?” Sam laughed lightly, dodging a few drunken men as they sang their drinking song, their merry tune carrying through the village.
Musha ring dumma do damma da
There’s whiskey in the jar
“You are off living in a marvelous palace where servants wait on you with their lives. I am quite astonished you can bear to be out in these woods,” you replied, waving hello to a few young girls playing in the distance.
I counted out his money, and it made a pretty penny.
I put it in my pocket and I took it home to Jenny.
She said and she swore, that she never would deceive me,
But the devil take the women, for they never can be easy
“You think so lowly of me, maiden! I am unlike my fellow royals.”
“That is what they all say,” you said in a low voice, raising your chin high into the air, your gait gracefully gliding over the ground.
You walked in silent, the Prince following close behind you. The area was quiet, the intoxicated men’s song fading away.
I went into my chamber, all for to take a slumber,
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure it was no wonder.
But Jenny took my charges and she filled them up with water,
Then sent for captain Farrel to be ready for the slaughter.
The birds chirped a gentle melody, the wind harmonizing with the animals’ tunes. “It is growing darker and darker… we must hurry before it reaches dusk so you will be able to proceed on your journey. Where exactly are you hoping to go?”
“I desire to make the voyage over to my relatives in England, King Samuel and Queen Deanna. I hardly believe they have heard wind of Germany’s battle plans…”
You slowly nodded, allowing your focus to stay forward, your eyes fixated upon the grassy field ahead. “The well is close ahead. Do you have a canteen?”
A minuscule simper clutched onto his features, removing a water canteen from his neck, showcasing its handcrafted craftsmanship to you. “My maid crafted this for me before I left on my first quest.” His grin faded slowly, a small lump forming in the back of his throat. “She died protecting me early this morning.”
You shifted your view upon the Prince, a sorrowful look crossing your face. “Sam…”
“She was a true mother to me,” he murmured, gazing upon the canteen. “She would put all of my needs before anyone’s. She raised me.”
“What was her name?” you inquired, your gaze staring into his glassy hues. “Ellen,” Sam responded, glancing down upon his stride, his eyes drowning within a pool of sadness as well as a hint of anger. Heat raved through his veins, but quickly cooled down with the mournfulness of his heart. He cleared his throat, wiping his palm across his mouth. “Her name was Ellen.”
“What’s done is done,” he snapped, his interruption surprising you, an uncomfortable silence coating itself over you both.
The village grew tinier and tinier as you ventured farther through the open meadow, the voices and laughter fading into the sky. Clouds over casted the falling sun, the temperature cascading into a low. All was silent within the realm. The birds seized their beautiful song, the wind halting, the trees standing eerily still. They walked in utter silence.
“Fire!” a distant voice shouted, the whistling of dozens of arrows soaring through the atmosphere whispering in the sky. You turned back for a quick moment, your lips unlocking, a shrieking scream enveloping through your barriers.
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