Fic: The Pangs of Love (SPN, Dean/Castiel)
Title: The Pangs of Love
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Castiel
Genre: AU, human Castiel, fighting tournament, romance
Warnings: somewhat graphic depictions of violence
Rating: PG-13 (see warnings)
Word Count: 1985
Summary: King Michael is holding a fighting tournament and the winner will marry his daughter. Dean fights for love, while Castiel struggles with his own feelings.
Author's Notes: This story was written for Dean/Cas Summer Lovin' as a gift to Sofiwick, but because I was not happy with it, I wrote another fic for her. It seemed silly to have it just sitting on my computer, however, when it was already finished, so I decided to post it anyway.
The prompt I used was The king is hosting a fighting contest (of sorts?) and the winner will marry his daughter. Dean wins but chooses the king’s son, Castiel, as his prize. Cas is smitten. Bonus points: Dean tells Cas he has been in love with him from afar.
The Pangs of Love
The smell of blood, sweat and adrenaline permeated the air. Screams of agony mingled with cheers and shouts of encouragement, forming a cacophony of frenzy. Fists connected with jaws, noses, cheeks, sending men tumbling to the ground. Bodies lay senseless or groaning in the shadows, while others subjected themselves to the same harsh treatment that had placed them there. The victors strutted about with their heads held high, itching for their next fight, while the losers hid their faces and nursed their wounds - both external and internal.
Castiel, Prince of Celestia, stood on a dais and watched the fighting with an impassive look on his face. Every now and again something occurred to disturb his calm and he stirred slightly, as if in discomfort, while a pained expression flitted across his face. Once, he even took a step forward, as if wanting to join the fighting, but he stopped himself and resumed his position almost immediately. The movement was so slight that it went completely unnoticed by both the crowd and the two fighters.
One of them - a huge, bulky ogre of a man - had just landed a solid punch on the jaw of his young opponent. The young man staggered, but recovered quickly enough to duck the next blow and dance out of reach. One of his green eyes was already swelling shut, his full lower lip was bleeding and his ribs were bruised, but he was still smirking. He evaded another swinging fist, swooped in and kicked hard at the ogre’s knee. The huge man went down as his bones broke and he threw his head back in a howl of agony. The howl was cut short, as his opponent exploited this vulnerable position to throw an arm around the ogre’s throat and cut off his air supply. The big man did all he could to throw him off, but the green-eyed man had him caught as in a vise.
It did not take long before the ogre’s movements grew sluggish and his eyes began to lose focus. Faced with the choice of losing the fight or losing consciousness, he made the surprisingly wise decision of choosing the former and tapped his opponent’s arm three times to signal his yielding. His vanquisher immediately let him go and raised his arms in a gesture of victory. His grin revealed blood-stained teeth and stretched the broken skin tight over his swollen cheek, but he seemed oblivious to any pain. He revelled in the crowd’s cheers and jeers for a moment, before leaving the ring to make way for the next fighters.
Prince Castiel glanced at the woman sitting on the throne-like chair beside him. Princess Anna’s face was calm, almost serene, but she had leaned forward slightly towards the end of the fight, as if to see more clearly. When the young man won, she let out a visible sigh of relief and her face split into a smile. She hurried to conceal these signs of her partiality, but Castiel had no doubt that they had already been caught by the many eyes that were constantly fixed on her. He could not find it in himself to blame her, however. Considering what was at stake in this tournament, it would have been strange if Anna had been able to remain completely neutral.
Castiel’s eyes wandered to the tall and imposing man who was standing at her other side. This tournament had been the King’s idea. Castiel thought it strange that his father had chosen a fighting contest as the best way to determine who should be allowed to marry the Princess, but since Anna had raised no objections, he too had kept silent. He supposed that his father was looking for a strong man to rule Celestia when the time came for Anna to take the throne, but the King ought to know by now that physical strength was no measurement for a man’s strength of character. Nor did it say anything about his ability to make a woman happy.
Unconsciously, Castiel transferred his gaze to the green-eyed man who had won the last fight. He could easily see why Anna would prefer him to the ogre. The man was not only exceptionally handsome, even with his face half-shattered, but he seemed to have a decent personality too. Admittedly, he came across as somewhat cocky and vain, but throughout the tournament, he had fought not only with courage and skill, but also with honor and consideration. None of the many men that he had defeated had come away with any permanent injuries and he never intentionally humiliated his opponents. The clever manner in which he fought was also a testament to his wits and tactical cunning. In short, he would make a fine ruler and Castiel fully understood Anna’s partiality for him. He only hoped that the young man’s luck and talent would carry him all the way.
Every time the green-eyed man fought, Castiel held his breath and had to struggle to keep his heartbeat even. He felt each blow that the young man took as a punch to his own gut and a cold hand of fear grasped his innards whenever it looked as though he might lose. Beside him, Anna twitched and squirmed with each new turn of the fight, and when the green-eyed man won, as he inevitably did, both she and her brother clapped that much harder and breathed that much easier.
Finally, only two fighters remained: the green-eyed man and another young man with a hard face, but warm eyes. They entered the ring, circling each other warily as they assessed their competition. The green-eyed man was still smiling. He said something to his opponent, but the words were drowned out by the spectators’ shouts. Whatever they were, they made the other man grin crookedly as he replied. The green-eyed man shrugged, then made a sudden lunge towards his opponent, who was caught off guard and could not avert the blow quickly enough. He took it on his nose, which began bleeding profusely. Spitting out blood, he glared darkly at his attacker, as they resumed circling each other. This time it was the hard-faced man that made the first move. He feinted in one direction, then moved in the other, and the green-eyed man could not duck in time. Instead, he was able to divert the blow to land in his side, rather than in his stomach. His movement left his other side open to his opponent, who immediately punched a fist into his ribs. The green-eyed man grimaced in pain and for the first time, something not unlike caution appeared in his gaze.
The fight was agonizingly even and it seemed interminable. Several times, Castiel was sure that one or the other of the fighters had won, but somehow, they always got themselves out of whatever difficult position the other man had placed them in. Before long, they were both limping, clutching their ribs and spitting blood. No trace of a smile remained on the green-eyed man’s face. He looked grave and determined. Castiel wished that he could lend him some of his own strength, just so he could end the fight. He was not sure how much more of this he would be able to take.
He glanced at Anna to see if she was suffering as much as he was, but found no trace of his own torment on his sister’s face. Instead, she was watching the fight in fascination, showing no signs of hoping for a specific winner. It was obvious that she was captivated by both the fighters and that she would be content with either outcome. In a way, Castiel could understand her. The hard-faced man was almost as handsome as his opponent and he fought with as much skill and honor.
However, something about the green-eyed man entranced Castiel. He suddenly realized that he did not want the man to win, because he could not bear the idea seeing him marry someone else. If this man married Anna, he would become a part of Castiel’s life. This should not have been a bad thing, but the idea of having him there, but not being allowed to have him, was agony to the Prince.
After what seemed like an eternity the fight finally ended. What Castiel had so desperately wished for, only then to fear, came to pass. The green-eyed man made a rapid series of movements, forcing his opponent to retreat and leave himself his opponent vulnerable to the final blow, which rendered him unconscious. With a heavy heart, Castiel watched as the man approached the dais, where the king was waiting for him. He had to be supported by two other men in order to get there, but it was clear from his shining eyes that he was too happy to feel pain. He stood proudly before the King, bearing his wounds as tokens of love.
“Congratulations!” The booming sound of the King’s voice brought immediate silence among the crowd. “You have fought bravely and won the tournament. As promised, I therefore bestow upon you the greatest prize that I can grant any man. I give you my daughter’s hand in marriage and my kingdom to rule, after my days are done. I trust that you will cherish and protect them both with the same strength and determination that you have shown here today.”
The crowd applauded as Anna stepped forward to greet her future husband. She halted, however, when he raised his hands to signal that he too had something to say.
“I am honored beyond words,” he said in a voice hoarse with exhaustion, “that you would entrust me with such treasures. However, I must decline.”
A buzz rose from the crowd, quickly silenced by a gesture from the now livid King. Before he could let loose his rage, however, the bold young man continued,
“I would instead request a different prize, one of perhaps equal value, but infinitely more precious to me. Give your daughter to my opponent, who has proven himself to be equally as worthy. He will give her what I cannot: his heart. For I fear that mine is no longer my own, but belongs to her brother.”
Hesitantly, he limped up the dais towards Castiel, who stood there frozen, torn between incredulity, confusion and hope. He hardly dared believe what he was hearing and yet the look in those beautiful green eyes proclaimed it the truth.
“Prince Castiel,” the young man continued, “I have loved you for longer than you can imagine. I know you don’t remember, for we were both very young, but you once saved me and my brother from a pack of wolves that had surrounded us. Since then I have watched you from afar and all that I have seen has made me love you more. I came here, hoping to prove myself to you and to win the opportunity to declare my feelings. I ask you now, were my efforts in vain? Could you ever learn to love someone like me?”
For several long moments, Castiel could not speak. His mind was awash with memories and images. A beautiful boy fighting off wolves with a stick, shielding his brother with his body. Eyes like emeralds shining with awe and gratitude after the wolves had been driven off. A dazzling grin as a warm hand closed around his.
Those memories had haunted his dreams, until he woke every morning with the boy’s name on his lips.
“Dean,” he whispered. “Yes.”
A bright smile blossomed across that distorted face, completely unlike all the other smiles that had graced it. Dean stepped closer and held out his hands for Castiel to take.
“You do remember,” he said happily.
“I could never forget,” Castiel replied. His lips met Dean’s and his mouth filled with the taste of Dean’s love - tangy, metallic and sweet.
Pairings/Characters: Dean/Castiel
Genre: AU, human Castiel, fighting tournament, romance
Warnings: somewhat graphic depictions of violence
Rating: PG-13 (see warnings)
Word Count: 1985
Summary: King Michael is holding a fighting tournament and the winner will marry his daughter. Dean fights for love, while Castiel struggles with his own feelings.
Author's Notes: This story was written for Dean/Cas Summer Lovin' as a gift to Sofiwick, but because I was not happy with it, I wrote another fic for her. It seemed silly to have it just sitting on my computer, however, when it was already finished, so I decided to post it anyway.
The prompt I used was The king is hosting a fighting contest (of sorts?) and the winner will marry his daughter. Dean wins but chooses the king’s son, Castiel, as his prize. Cas is smitten. Bonus points: Dean tells Cas he has been in love with him from afar.
The Pangs of Love
The smell of blood, sweat and adrenaline permeated the air. Screams of agony mingled with cheers and shouts of encouragement, forming a cacophony of frenzy. Fists connected with jaws, noses, cheeks, sending men tumbling to the ground. Bodies lay senseless or groaning in the shadows, while others subjected themselves to the same harsh treatment that had placed them there. The victors strutted about with their heads held high, itching for their next fight, while the losers hid their faces and nursed their wounds - both external and internal.
Castiel, Prince of Celestia, stood on a dais and watched the fighting with an impassive look on his face. Every now and again something occurred to disturb his calm and he stirred slightly, as if in discomfort, while a pained expression flitted across his face. Once, he even took a step forward, as if wanting to join the fighting, but he stopped himself and resumed his position almost immediately. The movement was so slight that it went completely unnoticed by both the crowd and the two fighters.
One of them - a huge, bulky ogre of a man - had just landed a solid punch on the jaw of his young opponent. The young man staggered, but recovered quickly enough to duck the next blow and dance out of reach. One of his green eyes was already swelling shut, his full lower lip was bleeding and his ribs were bruised, but he was still smirking. He evaded another swinging fist, swooped in and kicked hard at the ogre’s knee. The huge man went down as his bones broke and he threw his head back in a howl of agony. The howl was cut short, as his opponent exploited this vulnerable position to throw an arm around the ogre’s throat and cut off his air supply. The big man did all he could to throw him off, but the green-eyed man had him caught as in a vise.
It did not take long before the ogre’s movements grew sluggish and his eyes began to lose focus. Faced with the choice of losing the fight or losing consciousness, he made the surprisingly wise decision of choosing the former and tapped his opponent’s arm three times to signal his yielding. His vanquisher immediately let him go and raised his arms in a gesture of victory. His grin revealed blood-stained teeth and stretched the broken skin tight over his swollen cheek, but he seemed oblivious to any pain. He revelled in the crowd’s cheers and jeers for a moment, before leaving the ring to make way for the next fighters.
Prince Castiel glanced at the woman sitting on the throne-like chair beside him. Princess Anna’s face was calm, almost serene, but she had leaned forward slightly towards the end of the fight, as if to see more clearly. When the young man won, she let out a visible sigh of relief and her face split into a smile. She hurried to conceal these signs of her partiality, but Castiel had no doubt that they had already been caught by the many eyes that were constantly fixed on her. He could not find it in himself to blame her, however. Considering what was at stake in this tournament, it would have been strange if Anna had been able to remain completely neutral.
Castiel’s eyes wandered to the tall and imposing man who was standing at her other side. This tournament had been the King’s idea. Castiel thought it strange that his father had chosen a fighting contest as the best way to determine who should be allowed to marry the Princess, but since Anna had raised no objections, he too had kept silent. He supposed that his father was looking for a strong man to rule Celestia when the time came for Anna to take the throne, but the King ought to know by now that physical strength was no measurement for a man’s strength of character. Nor did it say anything about his ability to make a woman happy.
Unconsciously, Castiel transferred his gaze to the green-eyed man who had won the last fight. He could easily see why Anna would prefer him to the ogre. The man was not only exceptionally handsome, even with his face half-shattered, but he seemed to have a decent personality too. Admittedly, he came across as somewhat cocky and vain, but throughout the tournament, he had fought not only with courage and skill, but also with honor and consideration. None of the many men that he had defeated had come away with any permanent injuries and he never intentionally humiliated his opponents. The clever manner in which he fought was also a testament to his wits and tactical cunning. In short, he would make a fine ruler and Castiel fully understood Anna’s partiality for him. He only hoped that the young man’s luck and talent would carry him all the way.
Every time the green-eyed man fought, Castiel held his breath and had to struggle to keep his heartbeat even. He felt each blow that the young man took as a punch to his own gut and a cold hand of fear grasped his innards whenever it looked as though he might lose. Beside him, Anna twitched and squirmed with each new turn of the fight, and when the green-eyed man won, as he inevitably did, both she and her brother clapped that much harder and breathed that much easier.
Finally, only two fighters remained: the green-eyed man and another young man with a hard face, but warm eyes. They entered the ring, circling each other warily as they assessed their competition. The green-eyed man was still smiling. He said something to his opponent, but the words were drowned out by the spectators’ shouts. Whatever they were, they made the other man grin crookedly as he replied. The green-eyed man shrugged, then made a sudden lunge towards his opponent, who was caught off guard and could not avert the blow quickly enough. He took it on his nose, which began bleeding profusely. Spitting out blood, he glared darkly at his attacker, as they resumed circling each other. This time it was the hard-faced man that made the first move. He feinted in one direction, then moved in the other, and the green-eyed man could not duck in time. Instead, he was able to divert the blow to land in his side, rather than in his stomach. His movement left his other side open to his opponent, who immediately punched a fist into his ribs. The green-eyed man grimaced in pain and for the first time, something not unlike caution appeared in his gaze.
The fight was agonizingly even and it seemed interminable. Several times, Castiel was sure that one or the other of the fighters had won, but somehow, they always got themselves out of whatever difficult position the other man had placed them in. Before long, they were both limping, clutching their ribs and spitting blood. No trace of a smile remained on the green-eyed man’s face. He looked grave and determined. Castiel wished that he could lend him some of his own strength, just so he could end the fight. He was not sure how much more of this he would be able to take.
He glanced at Anna to see if she was suffering as much as he was, but found no trace of his own torment on his sister’s face. Instead, she was watching the fight in fascination, showing no signs of hoping for a specific winner. It was obvious that she was captivated by both the fighters and that she would be content with either outcome. In a way, Castiel could understand her. The hard-faced man was almost as handsome as his opponent and he fought with as much skill and honor.
However, something about the green-eyed man entranced Castiel. He suddenly realized that he did not want the man to win, because he could not bear the idea seeing him marry someone else. If this man married Anna, he would become a part of Castiel’s life. This should not have been a bad thing, but the idea of having him there, but not being allowed to have him, was agony to the Prince.
After what seemed like an eternity the fight finally ended. What Castiel had so desperately wished for, only then to fear, came to pass. The green-eyed man made a rapid series of movements, forcing his opponent to retreat and leave himself his opponent vulnerable to the final blow, which rendered him unconscious. With a heavy heart, Castiel watched as the man approached the dais, where the king was waiting for him. He had to be supported by two other men in order to get there, but it was clear from his shining eyes that he was too happy to feel pain. He stood proudly before the King, bearing his wounds as tokens of love.
“Congratulations!” The booming sound of the King’s voice brought immediate silence among the crowd. “You have fought bravely and won the tournament. As promised, I therefore bestow upon you the greatest prize that I can grant any man. I give you my daughter’s hand in marriage and my kingdom to rule, after my days are done. I trust that you will cherish and protect them both with the same strength and determination that you have shown here today.”
The crowd applauded as Anna stepped forward to greet her future husband. She halted, however, when he raised his hands to signal that he too had something to say.
“I am honored beyond words,” he said in a voice hoarse with exhaustion, “that you would entrust me with such treasures. However, I must decline.”
A buzz rose from the crowd, quickly silenced by a gesture from the now livid King. Before he could let loose his rage, however, the bold young man continued,
“I would instead request a different prize, one of perhaps equal value, but infinitely more precious to me. Give your daughter to my opponent, who has proven himself to be equally as worthy. He will give her what I cannot: his heart. For I fear that mine is no longer my own, but belongs to her brother.”
Hesitantly, he limped up the dais towards Castiel, who stood there frozen, torn between incredulity, confusion and hope. He hardly dared believe what he was hearing and yet the look in those beautiful green eyes proclaimed it the truth.
“Prince Castiel,” the young man continued, “I have loved you for longer than you can imagine. I know you don’t remember, for we were both very young, but you once saved me and my brother from a pack of wolves that had surrounded us. Since then I have watched you from afar and all that I have seen has made me love you more. I came here, hoping to prove myself to you and to win the opportunity to declare my feelings. I ask you now, were my efforts in vain? Could you ever learn to love someone like me?”
For several long moments, Castiel could not speak. His mind was awash with memories and images. A beautiful boy fighting off wolves with a stick, shielding his brother with his body. Eyes like emeralds shining with awe and gratitude after the wolves had been driven off. A dazzling grin as a warm hand closed around his.
Those memories had haunted his dreams, until he woke every morning with the boy’s name on his lips.
“Dean,” he whispered. “Yes.”
A bright smile blossomed across that distorted face, completely unlike all the other smiles that had graced it. Dean stepped closer and held out his hands for Castiel to take.
“You do remember,” he said happily.
“I could never forget,” Castiel replied. His lips met Dean’s and his mouth filled with the taste of Dean’s love - tangy, metallic and sweet.