This is from a crossover crack fic for spn x merlin I have been working one. It has not been betad because I am unsure how to even find one for this absolute crackery.
The crowd began to disperse, and Merlin turned to follow Gaius back to the physician’s chambers.
“Well, at least they chopped his head off.”
Merlin froze mid-step. That voice—he recognized it.
Turning his head slightly, he spotted them. The two men who had come through the rift with the creature. They stood at the edge of the courtyard, their heads tilted toward the execution platform.
“Yeah, they have no idea how lucky they got with executing that vamp,” Dean muttered, nodding toward a passing group of knights and gesturing at their swords. “Sammy, we gotta get ourselves one of those.”
Sam sighed, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “Dude, we are not here to cosplay Lord of the Rings.”
Merlin blinked. What does it mean to ‘cosplay’? Who is this ‘Lord of the Rings’? Is he the king for the land where these men had come from?
Sam continued, voice dropping to something more serious. “Regardless of how we got here, those things are still out there. We need to figure out a way back. First step? Find a library. Do some research.”
Dean sighed, clearly not thrilled about the plan. “Alright, but I feel really naked without my gun."
I tag (no pressure): @imagine-dragonlords @groundbreakingdot872 @maul-of-shame and anyone else who wants to join (:
Tagged by @imagine-dragonlords who I am spamming along with @timelesswhisper with merthur scenes.
Synopsis: A cwp (crack with plot) crossover between Supernatural and BBC Merlin where Merlin, Dean and Sam work to fight the Will-o-Wisps. Dean hits on Morgana and epically fails. Sam is mistaken for Sir Galahad by Uther and is forced to play court. Jealous!Arthur tries to woo Merlin with Castiel's help, and it goes as horribly as you would think.
Anyways since I'm boring, here is the last line I wrote. This is where Merlin accidently has summoned the Winchesters.
What was more alarming than the appearance of these strange figures, however, was the strange, foreign energy they brought with them.
I tag (no pressure as always): @tansyuduri @maul-of-shame @twistedshipper
In CW’s Supernatural, the princes of Hell (first generation demons) have glowing yellow eyes, correct?
And in BBC’s Merlin, Merlin’s eyes glow yellow/gold whenever he performs magic…
NOW… In 13th century Arthurian Legends, Robert de Boron wrote that Merlin was a HALF DEMON conceived as a plot by demons to unleash the antichrist onto humanity.
Well! jokes on them cause he ended up being good.
NOT DONE YET! In 5x06 of Supernatural, it is revealed that half demons possess practically limitless magical abilities. Jesse Turner did manage to turn a freaking angel into a freaking plastic toy (like, who else can even do that!?!?)
So… With all the evidence presented… Does this mean that the reason why Merlin has Magic is because he is THE SON OF A PRINCE OF HELL???
Reincarnated but filled with memories and remorse, Morgana cut a deal with Death to bring Arthur back. In exchange for his life, she would serve Death as his personal handmaiden, going wherever he sent her and acting as Reaper when necessary.
And then Dean Winchester had to go and kill her master, leaving the scythe to her...
This supermerlin fic celebrates my milestone of three hundred followers and it's a gift fic for thespywhospies for her supermerlin AU gifset
Dean growled angrily as he slammed the duffle bag onto the nearest bunker table, they had just come back from a case, a witch was sending people back into time as a way to ‘teach a lesson’, and Sam and Dean had lost the trail, and she was long gone by now.
Damn it!
Dean thrust open the kitchen doors with barely contained frustration, it could be another two months before the witch would start appearing in the newspapers again, and that was if she didn’t know she was being hunted. More people could be hurt and become a closed missing person’s case forever, mysteriously disappeared just because the damn witch couldn’t hold in her temper. Witches pretty much sucked, okay? Dean opened the large refrigerator door and relaxed at the familiar sight of the apple pie that he had made last week, he gave a slight smile as he remembered he swatted Sam’s curious fingers away quickly with a wooden spoon.
“Dean….” Sam said in a quiet voice in the doorway, also upset in his own way that they had failed.
“Just wait at the table, Sammy, I’ll cook us some dinner up in no time, we can talk later, alright?” Dean answered with a false cheer, eyes now analyzing the rest of the food, he waited until the large footsteps receded and let out a breath.
He really did love the kid, but those puppy eyes were gonna kill him someday. Dean reached in for the red sauce, Prego, and started rummaging through the other drawers in the kitchen. With a happy hurrah, he had collected his supplies, a large black pot, a packet of noodles, a few inches of water already poured in the pot, and the sauce, along with a secret ingredient that will make the spaghetti burst with flavor and make nuns weep. One perfect cube of cilantro seasoning, after the noodles have softened and the the sauce poured in, Dean carefully crumbled the cilantro cube into the pot, with a nice pinch of salt, he gave a large grin, nothing like amazing cooking to bring up the mood. At least Sammy would lighten up as well and stop his obsessive researching in the next room, he can hear the damn clickety clacks of the keys from here.
Dean lazily stirred the pots, spreading the red sauce evenly, he had wished that he had some meat left to make meatballs but it was too late to go to the store now. His mind drifted back to the witch case, he couldn’t help but have a bad feeling about the witch, he knew that time travel was pretty tricky, even for Angels of the Lord. So, what kind of mojo did a demon have that was powerful enough to grant someone the power of sending someone in the past, well, Dean had to assume it was the past because who the fuck knows if people were traveling to the future as well? Agh, this was hurting his head, so with all of this time traveling shtick, Dean is gonna need some help with this witch case if they were gonna bring her down.
Some angelic help.
“Hey Cas, I hope you got your ears on, because I need you right now with this witch case. Some weird things are going on with time travel, and apparently this witch has the power to do that, just drop by for a bit, that would be nice.” Dean said, when he heard the familiar flapping of his trenchcoat, he didn’t even bother looking up.
“Personal space, Cas.” Dean said instinctively, it was an old habit now that it no longer had any bite.
“My apologies, Dean, but a witch possessing time travel, that is outside the realm of power of a crossroads demon, that just isn’t possible.” Cas replied, but he didn’t move from his place beside Dean, instead he moved closer to look at the spaghetti, now releasing delicious smells to all over the kitchen.
“Well, that means we’re gonna discuss this over dinner, then, now go sit with Sam and make sure his brain doesn’t bleed through his ears.” Dean joked as he waved his wooden spoon to shoo the angel away.
“That’s also not probable, researching for an excess amount of time doesn’t have that effect.” Cas said in a deep monotone voice with a tinge of annoyance.
Dean went back to stirring the pot and waited patiently, after a few complete slow turns, Cas spoke up again.
“Oh, I see now, it’s a joke.” Cas gave an awkward stretch of his lips to show a smile, but it was more of a grimace, although Dean had to credit him for trying.
“Just go sit with Sam, I’ll make more for you.” Dean shooed him with his spoon again and this time he complied reluctantly. That night, all three of them discussed a plan, they were gonna use Cas for bait, which Dean loudly objected to, but Sam and Castiel talked him down from a full mutiny by explaining about time energy and how angels are practically pouring from the pores of it. So all they needed to do was make the witch angry enough to send Castiel back in time, the angelic time energy should unsettle the unnatural powers in her enough to mess with her head, but at that split second before sending him in time will leave her vulnerable to attack. Castiel reasoned that time travel takes a lot of energy to do, it even exhausts the most powerful of angels, so the witch will suck in all of her magical power like taking a huge breath, which leaves her wide open without any protection.
But later on, as Castiel looked back on that moment, he should have told the boys the larger the breath, the further someone will be sent in time, and the shorter amount of time to attack.
None of them knew that the witch enjoyed the immense amounts of power and took in large breaths whenever she could, just to feel the absolute euphoria, she was of course an addict, in all senses of the word.
That would have saved them a lot of trouble.
Castiel stumbled onto the ground, he groaned as he felt pain resonating throughout his vessel, he shakingly turned on his side to spit out blood onto the dead leaves on the grass. Then turned over on his back, looking upwards as he gulped in greedily breaths of air, and squinted disapprovingly at the clear blue noon sky. As he fought the rising sense of panic, he tried to sit up but his vessel protested, bruised by the time traveling abuse. So he closed his eyes, and tuned in to his larger conscious, the multiwaves of celestial intent already telling him what he knew.
So the witch can not only displace someone in time but in space as well, because these certain types of trees are common in Europe, and the stars are slightly different from their positions from the North American sky, and this soil is uniquely clay and touch of sandstone, I must be somewhere in the middle ages in Britain.
Castiel struggled to put himself onto his knees and propel himself up to a standing position, his memory played back the horror on Dean’s face when he realized his shotgun was too far to get a proper shot and Sam was knocked out, and everything flashed blue as the witch’s finger touched him on his forehead, with a large deranged grin.
Maybe Castiel had gone too far when he had called her a bitch and to suck his dick, mostly because of Dean’s beforehand instruction when had no idea how to offend someone other than his Enochian insults and ‘assbutt’.
Castiel stood there exactly an hour and 23 minutes, softly chanting in Enochian. The chant was a healing song that would relax the tension in his wings and grace, and to help ease his way since the Past truly did not like being changed needlessly.
Suddenly a gasp came from behind him, there was a dirty maid and her fallen bucket that sloshed with water pouring out, and she ran when Castiel stopped chanting to look at her. She screamed something mostly unintelligible in utter fright as she disappeared into the trees, Castiel gave a shrug of his wings, most likely her village will calm her down but Castiel will be long gone when they come back.
Or at least, that’s what he planned until the frying pan knocked him out from behind, he didn’t sense there was two maids, one braver than the other.
“There was an odd man in the woods, sire. He wore strange clothes and he was chanting some kind of spell.” the maid told them, her voice shaking slightly as her sister comforted her and also told the court the same thing, she was the one who had knocked out the sorcerer.
Merlin watched the court proceedings from the sidelines, he already knew that the strange man was thrown in the dungeons, and Uther was supposed to decide his fate, but everybody in Camelot already knew the stranger’s fate, it was the same as any other unlucky sorcerer, he would be sentenced to death.
“Thank you, I am glad to have good subjects, I will send you a gold coin for the trauma you have been through, you might have not gotten out alive. Guards! Make sure they are escorted safely to the palace gates.” King Uther dismissed the meeting, and the court scattered back to their daily tasks.
Back in his quarters, Merlin looked suspiciously at a vial of disgustingly green stuff, Gaius said that he needed to drink it, since they were during an inventory of the all of the safe(ish) potions in his library to make sure it hadn’t expired yet. Merlin looked up at his mentor, innocently gesturing him to get on with it, Merlin took in a large breath and closed his eyes, he had learned long ago it was easier that way, and drank a sip.
UGH!
He coughed and hacked until he was sure that most of it was gone, ugh, he wanted to do another round with Arthur than drink anymore of this.
“Merlin, does that sorcerer have anything to do with you?” Gaius asked him, it was a fair question considering the mischief in the past years, but Merlin shook his head.
“Merlin, I’m asking you to remain that way, don’t bring attention to yourself, please, Arthur can’t know quite yet, it isn’t the right time.” Gaius continued, his eyes worried, but Merlin gave a smile, of course he wouldn’t bring attention to himself if the guards don’t see him at all when he visits the dungeons.
“Of course I won’t, Gaius!” Merlin patted his friend’s back, which only seemed to worry the man more and say something but instead moved another glass vial that contained something like black goo, sigh, this was going to be a long day.
Dean coughed as he clattered onto the leafy floor, disoriented from the nauseating time traveling, it sucked just as much as flying. With that metaphor in mind, Dean turned on his side to vomit his breakfast and last night’s dinner of spaghetti. Ugh. He shakily got up on his knees and slowly got himself into a standing stance, and stretched his arms and legs until his bones cracked with an audible pop.
“Shit! Castiel! What the fuck did you do to him?!” Dean shouted, the witch gave a bloody grin, the magical power seemed to melt her brain. Literally. Dean’s mind worked in high drive as he decided whether to just shoot the damn witch right there and then or force her to bring Cas back.
It was a no brainer it would be Cas, but he knew the witch wouldn’t listen without a few….incentives. So Dean’s mind was made up, and reached for his gun as the witch lunged at him, and quickly swiveled it around to point it right at her leg, and pulled the trigger at the same exact moment her hand barely swept his cheek. It was just a millisecond of contact but it was enough, the obvious shock of being shot made her involuntarily suck in a breath and send Dean back in time.
Dean looked around at his surroundings, it seemed like it was late afternoon with the sun descending just over the western horizon. He could be anywhere, or in fact, anywhen, Dean was so fucked nine ways to Sunday. Suddenly there is hoofbeat coming to the left and behind of him, and quickly looks around for a hiding place and finds a large enough bush to cover him comfortably and hides from the strangers. Maybe it could be colonists, or Redcoats, hell, he could even be in the smack middle of the Civil War if Dean knew his rotten luck.
“We should reach Camelot by nightfall, it’s only less than quarter of a day’s ride now.” a gruff man with a thick british accent spoke, his chainmail clicking loudly in the silence of the forest.
Camelot?
“How do we know we’re going in the right direction?” a younger boy’s voice with the same foreign accent meekly asked from his horse.
“We just follow the sun, lad, and we better hurry up too if we want to be there before the sun sets. The tournament is early in the morning. ” the man answered back, and with a quick hurrah they trotted ahead, not even noticing Dean.
“I thought Camelot didn’t even exist?” Dean whispered to himself long after the strangers left, he dusted himself off and squinted at the setting sun. He put one foot in front of the other and decided to keep walking like the man said, and he remembered seeing the glint of swords as they passed by him, weapons, yeah Dean was gonna need those too since his gun gone to God know’s where.
Which reminded him, weapons check! Dean stopped in a clearing and patted down his clothing, he looked in the inside pockets of his green plaid overshirt, and sure enough, he still had his demon killing knife and a few packages of salt, along with a quick glance at his boot to acknowledge his small dagger as well. He frowned as he realized that he was probably not correctly dressed for whenever he was, since he saw armor and horses along with the mention of Camelot. He shrugged, maybe there would be a village nearby that he can steal clothes, and besides he would figure it out later. Just not now.
The sun was just a finger width above the horizon now, Dean guessed it was probably around nine o’clock now since his phone and watch disappeared like his gun did. He did check his wallet out of boredom on his walk and he still had his driver’s license and money, fat load it did it do now.
No Baby, no food, hell, no pie, and he was pretty sure that no one had any idea what a driver’s license actually is.
Dean froze as he heard twigs snapping from ahead, he carefully crouched down in the undergrowth, his time from purgatory fine tuned him for situations for this, hiding and killing were the two things he did in there aside from looking for Cas.
“Merlin do this! Merlin go do that, Merlin Merlin, he’s such a prat that he makes his manservant pick out fresh berries at night.” a man muttered angrily to himself, more branches snapped as he probably took his anger out on those poor berries. Dean closed his eyes and focused on what his body was doing, he grounded himself in feeling the blood pumping from his heart and the energy coursing through his spine and organs. Dean slowly opened his mouth and started breathing through his nose and through his mouth silently, he repeated it until his breaths were completely noiseless, his organs worked overtime to remain stock still in his hiding place, to anyone else, he was a statue.
A predator, more like, he saw flashes of monsters running from him in fright, but his mind shut that memory away to the darkness, he needed to focus now.
“The day he says thank you will be the day he dies, which is going to be eons from now.” the man continued to grumble, not aware of his surroundings at all.
Dean quietly squatted on the forest floor, his legs ready to spring, and he slowly took his knife out, and waited until the stranger moved closer to the edge of the clearing.
“Maybe I should---MPH” Dean pounced right on him with no warning and pinned the dark haired man beneath him with his arms above him and the legs weighed down by his hips.
“What year is this?!” Dean growled, knife held threateningly to his throat.
“It’s the Year of our Lord, 624!” the man answered back quickly.
“What’s your name, kid?” Dean asked in a softer voice but he didn’t relax his grip on the knife just yet.
“Merlin.” he said. Dean’s eyes widened, no way, he had the greatest sorcerer ever under him, wow that sounded wrong, but he thought he would look…..older. Oh well, he supposed that even old people had a childhood, but that raised sticky questions that Dean might be in deeper shit than he thought if he was before the Arthurian legends even existed.
“Wait, are you not from…...this time?” Merlin asked quietly, his left eyebrow cocked up in suspicion. Dean stuck his knife back into his front pocket and got off of Merlin, his face beamed as he might not be in bigger trouble than he thought, Cas was here!
“Yeah I’m not, but did you see a guy with black hair and blue eyes with a long tan coat?” Dean asked with hope shining in his eyes, who knows if Cas was already here and went back by himself decades ago.
“Yea, he’s at Camelot, but I don’t know where.” Merlin answered truthfully.
“Well then, let’s go, Merlin.” Dean grinned and gave a pat on his back hard enough for the sorcerer to cough.
“Hey Merlin, thanks for the clothes. You found my friend yet?” Dean asked as he clasped one of the buckles on the spare armor in front of Merlin’s mirror, it was to blend in with the new arrivals of knights coming in from all over of the Kingdom to compete tomorrow. Merlin hesitated to whether tell this stranger, Dean, what really happened to his friend, he seemed…..dangerous. He looked up and down at Dean’s reflection, the knightly armor was only a disguise, but Dean seem to fit in perfectly, he had the posture of someone who had fought in countless battles and had come out on top through thick and thin. Merlin bit his lip as Dean turned around to him, looking for an answer, it wasn’t too hard to sneak him into the city gates, a simple green hood did the trick, and the knights trusted Merlin.
Despite knowing Dean only for a few hours and had the look who could kill with barely a finger, his gut feeling told him that he could trust him.
“I’m sorry Dean, Uther’s men caught him. He’ll be burnt at the stake at sunrise for witchcraft.” Merlin said with pity, his mind already trying to remember time traveling spells to send Dean back to whenever he came from.
“Well, can’t you use your magic mojo to get to Cas?” Dean growled in frustration, Merlin stiffened, how did he know?
“W-what? I’m not a sorcerer, magic is illegal in Camelot because of King Uther’s laws.” Merlin stuttered, he tried to stare down Dean but he looked away from his amused green eyes.
“Magic is illegal in Camelot? I don’t remember that in the Arthurian legends, but you’re Merlin, or known to some others, as Emrys.” Dean gave a bubbly laugh but tried to cover it up with a hand but Merlin still could hear his chuckles. He felt his hackles rising, Emrys, was his name to the Druids and it wasn’t funny.
“How do you know that? That’s a secret!” Merlin hissed out and quickly glanced around in the empty tournament tent for eavesdroppers.
“Well, you were right that I wasn’t from this time, I’m from the ‘Year of our Lord’, 2013, and your adventures about you and Arthur are practically bedtime stories we tell kids.” Dean grinned and walked by Merlin, leaving him to process that this required more magic than he thought.
Merlin was woken out of his shocked stupor when he had the clanging of swords from behind him, and turned around on his stool to watch Dean testing out the different balance of swords until he had finally settled on one. He had chosen an old war-sword, its blade was about three feet in length and slightly curved upwards at the end, along with a slightly faded wooden handle with grip. Warriors only used this particular type of sword, sometimes not even a knight of Camelot was able to use it efficiently in battle.
Dean made an approving grunt noise and sheathed it into his belt, Merlin had to catch himself or he would gawk with his jaw on the floor at how this man seemed to handle it with ease.
“I could try a spell to send you back.” Merlin leaned forward a bit to grab Dean’s attention back to their conversation.
“No. I’m not leaving without him.” Dean said in a low voice, his eyes dark with contained anger. Merlin held up his hands, “Whoa there, calm down, we won’t leave him.” Dean relaxed his grip on the sword but Merlin could see some of the anger rolling beneath the surface. He watched Dean walk up to the mirror again and turn this way and that way.
“Do you believe in destiny, Merlin?” Dean asked softly without looking at him.
“Yes, I have a destiny to save all of Albion and make Arthur, King Arthur.” Merlin told him firmly.
“Oh well, destiny is all fun and games until it bites you in the butt and tears you up until you can’t ever walk again. Well, Merlin, I still walk to this day.” Dean said bitterly.
“You have a destiny too?” Merlin asks confused.
“Yeah I did, before I told Destiny to go fuck herself. You’re lucky that your destiny has a happy ending.” Dean said as he turned around again and patted Merlin neutrally on the shoulder and left the tent.
Alright then, King Uther and his royal sonsabitches that locked up Cas, now he gotta find them.
Dean looks at the looming castle above the tent grounds and decides that’s probably where they’re squirreled up. He gets ready to take a step forward before a hand stops him on his left shoulder, Merlin, is glancing around worriedly.
“You need to wear this brown cloak so the guards will think you’re just another visitor. I can take you into the castle and hide you until dawn, when I can sneak you into the dungeons.” Merlin said quickly before looking around yet again, Dean gives a nod and wraps the cloak around himself.
I’m coming for you, Cas, just you wait.
Somewhere far below the castle walls, the angel stirs awake as he hears a familiar prayer, he whispers to himself “Dean?” before the prison guard yells at him to bloody shut up.
Dean walks as if he really was a knight, a warrior of regal heritage, he knew because he went through a medieval phrase before the cowboy phrase. Suddenly thoughts of Dr.Sexy in a knight’s uniform almost made him stop in his tracks, Dean coughed to shake himself and get back to the task on hand. Later, he’ll visit that dream when he’s safely home in 2013. Yeah…...later.
Merlin takes him to his servant’s quarters, where he sees an old man, briefly introduced as Gaius, before he was practically shoved into the room at the back. He was told firmly to stay there until Merlin comes to take him to the dungeons. A whole hour passed of Dean being bored out of his mind until then a knight came at the door, and since Dean was already safely hidden in his room, he eavesdropped from between the door boards without being seen.
“King Uther has made changes about his sentence of the strange sorcerer, he calls for the whole court, it will start at the first star seen tonight.” the knight bowed stiffly before scampering off to whatever he went.
“Changes? The whole court?” Dean heard them mutter among themselves before they seemed to decide to talk to Dean about the matter.
“Dean, Uther doesn’t make changes to his sentence unless your friend did something, or Uther thinks he’s too dangerous to live until dawn, so it’s gonna be changed to sundown. Either way, it’s not looking good.” Merlin revealed. Dean fumed that Cas was already sentenced to death but to change it because he did something or was too dangerous? Castiel was his friend, and he was gonna damn make sure he gets both of them out alive or dead. He slammed the room’s door open, storming past a stunned Merlin and a slack jawed Gaius, then unsheathed his worn old war sword in the hallway, shocking maids and servants alike.
He was gonna have a little talk with the King of Camelot.
Sundown.
Merlin said that Cas was gonna get executed at sunset, and the sky was already turning from dark blue to a crisp black. Dean glanced outside of a palace window that looked into the darkening courtyard while he was quickly walking by, he saw there was people gathering hay around a long wooden pole, and nearby there was a man all in black kindling a fire.
Dean broke into a run.
Cas was gonna die.
Again.
Dean sprinted, going through countless identical halls, the King’s Court had to be around here somewhere! Damn, why didn’t he ask directions from Merlin? Stupid.
He skidded to a stop next to a dark skinned maid, and asked her with heavy pants in between words, where the king’s court convened.
“Oh, it’s just the next left, then on the furthest right, Sir.” the lady gave a polite smile.
“Thanks, uh?”
“Guinevere.” She shyly smiled back, and Dean winked at her before following her directions at warp speed. Dean finally arrived at a large wooden door and slammed both doors open at once, nothing like a dramatic entrance to punctuate his anger. All of the heads in the room swiveled to meet Dean’s stormy gaze, sword unsheathed and ready to slice.
“Greetings, you royal sons of bitches. I’m here for the guy you have in your dungeons.” Dean snarled in a low voice, Alistair had told him long ago that true power never speaks, and in the words of a great man, speak softly and carry a big club. A sword in these circumstances but who’s complaining?
“He belongs to me.” Dean growled in the silent hall, the words echoing.
Castiel sensed the sorcerer before he walked into the dungeons, Emrys, a man of great destiny that would shape the whole world to come. A few bodies dropped to the floor, knocked out by the potion in their pots, they offered him some earlier but refused.
“So, you’re Castiel? Nice to meet you, Dean is very loyal to you.” Emrys chuckled as he stood in front of the prison cell.
“Dean is here? Where is he?” Castiel asked, getting up from the cell’s rotting old cot to stand close to the bars as possible.
“Listen, we don’t have much time, Dean is distracting everybody up there, so we have to leave now.” Emrys spoke quickly before reaching out a hand toward the cell’s lock, then his eyes glowed bright gold and magic tainted the air.
The lock clicked as the door creakily swung open, Castiel stepped out of the cell, glad to relax his wings from the cramped space. The sorcerer looked at him with a confused expression, he seemed to say something but stopped himself.
“Why didn’t you just free yourself, if you’re a sorcerer?” he finally asked Castiel bravely.
“Because I’m not a sorcerer, not in the way you define one I suppose.” Castiel answered gruffly, he stretched his back, and could feel his vessel’s bones pop and crack from their cramped position.
“Are you alright?” Emrys asked, concerned.
“I am fine, Emrys, now we have to go get Dean.” Castiel pushed him aside, he could feel the pulses of Dean’s soul, brighter than anyone’s in this place, he went up the stairs that led into the castle itself, to Dean.
By the time Cas had reached the last stairstep and stepped onto the ground floor, and waited patiently for Emrys, who had appeared a few moments later, clutching a hand to his chest.
“Can you,” Emrys heavily panted,”teach me that spell?”
“What spell?” Castiel tilted his head.
“Nevermind.” Emrys waved his free hand wearily. Suddenly a large bell rang loudly from somewhere above, both of their heads whipped around to see knights rushing across the courtyard, around what seemed to be a fire pyre, and into the castle screaming that someone was attacking the king.
“Dean!” both of them said at once.
Dean stood in the middle of people laying down on the floor in pain, he had sprained most of their ankles or wrists, nothing too serious, Dean didn’t want to be responsible for killing a knight of Camelot. That wouldn’t look good on resume. He only used his sword to fend off blows from other knights until he had incapacitated them with a quick thrust inside of their attack and twist their hand in that split second opening.
“Hey! What do you want?” Prince Arthur growled, unsheathing a sword, it glittered in the lights of the torches, metal engravings wrapped around the blade glinted.
“I already said it already, I want you to hand over my friend, Cas, to me.” Dean spoke slowly as if he was speaking to a kid, but deep inside beneath the anger, Dean was freaking out unmanly that he was fighting Prince Arthur.
The same man that was going down in history as King Arthur and his numerous legends about his adventures in Camelot. Dean had to contained himself from just dropping his sword and shake Arthur’s hand and start babbling how much he was a big fan of the guy and that one embarrassing time he had worn a purple throng that said ‘Knights of the Round Butt’ for truth or dare. And liked it.
“He’s going to get executed at sundown, it was pointless to come here.” King Uther growled from his seat on the throne. Suddenly Dean heard more footfalls behind him and whirled around to see around ten knights in full getup, ready to fight him. Dean tensed, no more playing Mr. Nice Guy then, and he took a shield from one of the groaning men with a quick murmur of sorry. The air in the room was so tense that it could be cut with a knife, but there was the clattering of armor as a young boy forced their way through the knights and stumbled into the open.
“Sir! The sorcerer has escaped!” the squire yelled, almost immediately the miniature army turned around and ran back into the halls to catch Cas. Shit no! Dean needed to buy time for Cas or he wasn’t gonna make it. In one swift movement he shoved Arthur out of the way and held his sword to King Uther’s throat, making everyone freeze stock still, even most of the army.
“Anyone that moves, I slit his throat here.” Dean threatened.
“What’s your name?” Arthur asked icily as he dropped his sword to the ground with a large clang.
“Dean Winchester, and you?” Dean gave a cocky smirk.
“Prince Arthur of Camelot, when this is over, I will hunt you down, you have hurt my friends and threaten my father’s life. And if you don’t kill him, I promise to make it quick.” Arthur growled.
“Dean!” a rough voice shouted, Dean looked up to the doorway to see a knight drag in Cas roughly by the elbow and push him to the stone floor.
“Castiel!” Dean yelled back as the knight pulled him back by the hair and put a sword to his throat. Both of them stared at each other, green meets blue, both of their eyes showed fear for each other’s lives. But then Cas did a strange thing, something very strange indeed.
He winked.
“Dean, grab my hand! Now!” Castiel shouted with his hand thrust out to Dean, his eyes started to glow blue at the edges as a whining screeched and the floor rumbled.
Dean dropped his sword and two long strides he grabs his hand, not noticing that the knight was chanting in a deep and foreign voice, but all of thoughts disappeared under Cas’ alien blue gaze as the world around them faded to white.
“Dean! Cas! Oh my god, I’m glad you guys are okay, I thought you weren’t coming back.” Sam said frantically over Dean, his hands hauling him up from the floor, Dean shooed him away as he helped Cas get up too. Dean looked around the basement and saw the corpse of the witch in the corner, already bled out by the bullet wound. He looked down at his outfit and saw that he still had his knightly disguise on, looks like he got something he can brag to Charlie next LARP meeting.
“It was all thanks to Emrys.” Castiel gave a faint smile that tugged at the corners and walked up to Dean, clasping his hands with his and leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.
“Thank you Dean.” Castiel said in a low voice, eyes crinkling at the edges.
“For what?” Dean said breathlessly as Castiel leaned in closer.
“For finding me.” Castiel breathed and gave Dean a short and chaste kiss, slightly smelling like ozone and burnt rubber.
“Anytime Cas, anytime.” Dean’s smile beamed and leaned in for another chaste kiss, slightly longer than the last before a loud shout made them pull apart.
“Oh my God, guys! I’m gonna have some brain bleach now, thanks guys! THANKS.” Sam screamed as he ran out of the basement, and slammed the front door behind him so hard that it could be heard all the way to the basement where Dean and Castiel were too busy kissing to care.
