[Fic] Upon and By the Grace of God (J2 AU)
UPON AND BY THE GRACE OF GOD
pairing. Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki [Alternate Universe]
rating. R
summary. Jensen is everything a Prince should be. Jared is everything he's not supposed to love.
words. 8100
beta. The wonderful annabeth_fics, though all remaining mistakes are mine.
n.b. This is a J2 story set in the universe created by the NBC show, Kings. Knowledge of Kings is not necessary to read the fic, however. All you need to know is that Jensen is a Prince, and adviser to his brother the King. Jared hails from an enemy nation. Written for allopen during the spn_j2_xmas exchange. Hopefully I was able to get some of your likes in this, mostly college!au (of a sort), political!fic, established relationship, no angst, a little bit of blood, and a happy ending. Plus, you and I have a favorite show in common :) I really hope you enjoy this, and MERRY CHRISTMAS! ♥ ♥
"Sir, your car is waiting out front."
A familiar shadow falls over Jensen's shoulder, and he nods without turning towards the impeccably suited chauffeur.
"I'll be out in a moment."
"Very good, sir."
The man quickly steps out and Jensen takes a deep breath, leaning back against the solid form he knows is there.
"Tell me I don't have to go."
Nothing.
"Tell me you don't want me to go," Jensen attempts again.
"I don't want you to go," is the quiet response.
He's never been prone to emotional displays, but Jensen feels the tide surging within him. He's doing more than leaving his home-his comfortable haven for the last two years. Forced by duty and obligation to leave the one person who has felt like home in a long time-someone who saved Jensen from the wreck he was making of himself, and never asked for the debt to be repaid.
Jared steps in front of Jensen and pulls him close.
"We knew it was coming," Jared offers with a confidence Jensen wishes could bleed through their skin and fill him as well. "And we know what we're going to do."
It should make Jensen feel better but it really doesn't. Not when Jared and he have talked about it for weeks-months-without making their peace. Lip service is all well and good, but so many things could happen. Jensen trusts Jared enough to know that his heart is safe, but their world is so fragile and thin. It wouldn't take a particularly hard shake to shatter what they've been able to build-the forces numbered against them grow larger every day. They're not strangers to struggle and compromise, but Jensen and Jared face more obstacles than most.
Theirs is the stuff of twisted fairy-tales; it's not every day that a young, handsome Gilboan prince gets saved by an enemy and falls in love. In Jensen's mind, 'Gathian' is just another word he could use to describe Jared, albeit one that is well hidden behind more important words like kind, generous, intelligent, stubborn, and enthusiastic. And Jared never cared that Jensen's life could be a hectic mess of royal obligations even away from Shiloh-Gilboa's seat of power-or that Jensen himself could be a hectic mess.
Love hasn't made them blind to faults and messy pasts. Rather, love has allowed them to see every facet of each other, barring nothing, and accept whatever they find.
The chauffeur hustles back, completely unfazed by the two men embracing though his lips are pinched with impatience.
"Need I remind you what Helena will do to you if you're late to table for your return banquet, sir?"
"You need not," Jensen swallows, sees Jared smirking. "I'd sooner face a Goliath alone."
"Wouldn't we all, sir."
Waving him away for the second time, Jensen's heart sinks.
"It's time."
"How long do we have to wait?" Jensen asks, putting space between their bodies without letting go of Jared's hands.
"Depends on how hard we work," Jared says casually, but Jensen knows how serious he is, and how hard they'll both have to work to come back together. Old prejudices of two great nations are not easily overcome. "We can do this-I have faith in you, and I will always be with you."
Reassurances have been traded back and forth for so long that Jensen just nods. Time won't oblige him by slowing down, and the third time the chauffeur comes to collect him, Jensen knows he needs to step out of Jared's arms after one last hug. He lets his last words to Jared be ones of affection instead of concern for his boyfriend's safety. Traveling from their Gilboan home into Gath isn't impossible, but the roads are still treacherous and the battles could spark up again at any moment.
In the comfortably appointed car that his brother-or more likely Helena-has sent, Jensen stares back at the doorstep of his old apartment building through the tinted windows. Jared has already disappeared.
Small orange flags, miniature replicas of the great symbol of Gilboa, wave and flutter on the car's hood, announcing to all they pass that Jensen, absent son of Shiloh, is finally going home.
"The King approaches."
Jensen schools the grin on his face down to a more appropriate expression and waits in the marble hallway. Pure morning sunlight diffuses through the cathedral windows at the eastern end of the cavernous hall, reflecting off the polished gold buttons on the guards' uniforms. The clicking of Helena's heels on stone heralds the arrival of Jensen's brother. Joshua turns the corner with his shrewd and faithful aide-de-camp bustling at his side in a smartly tailored navy blue suit, her expression already harried and her competent hands filled with the day's agenda.
But Joshua, youngest King in Gilboa's short history, has a only smile for his little brother, the luminance of which matches the light pouring through the windows.
"Good morning!" The King says with full enthusiasm, as if Joshua hasn't already been up for a few hours going over the day's events with a finer-than-fine toothed comb.
"Joshua."
"Jensen," the King mocks with good humor, each brother hiding their amusement at the formal routine.
Falling into step beside his brother, Helena and her entourage relegated to the rear, they begin their walk through Unity Mansion. Jensen feels comfortable in one of his finest suits-the lighter fabric hand selected by Helena to complement Joshua's darker three-piece, though they both wear similar ties of burnished gold silk.
"How'd you sleep?" Joshua asks as they pass a line of saluting soldiers.
"Fine," Jensen considers, correcting his steps after Joshua nudges his shoulder. "I didn't dream last night."
"Unusual for you. I always thought dreams could bring prophecies, but perhaps in your case it is their absence that speaks volumes."
A full night's sleep lightens Jensen's feet as they walk to the formal dining room, foregoing their casual breakfast to accommodate today's hectic schedules. Jensen understands that nearly the entire city of Shiloh awoke with bated breath this morning, anticipation and apprehension crowding around breakfast tables with Gilboan families. But Jensen woke up with a long yawn and an easy stretch as the dawn light spoke to him in familiar whispers. As it rose and covered his bedroom in a milky yellow glow, the light spoke to Jensen of soft memories and hard decisions, soon to be rectified. He's waited over a year and a half for this day.
Entering the opulent hall, Jensen's hit full force by the scents of a dozen bouquets carefully arranged around the room. Orange and yellow blooms fill crystal vases and brighten the lavish space-cheerful symbols of the day's aims. Joshua steps toe-to-toe with a gray-suited doorman and considers his impeccable uniform.
"Look alive," the King commands with an approving smile. "Do not look so nervous. Should you be nervous?"
"No, sir."
"I didn't think so!" Joshua's grin twists to a friendly smirk. "It's a good day, remember that. Genuine smiles today, for we'll have much to celebrate. Spread my words around to the rest of the staff, would you, Dylan?"
One of the many things Jensen admires about his brother-Joshua has never needed name tags or whispered reminders. He's blessed with the photographic memory Jensen lacks. Though even if Jensen were equally gifted, his mind would be filled with snapshots of familiar naked skin, nuances of a certain smile frozen in time. He would save no room for names and dates and mindless minutiae save for one object of focus.
"Your meal awaits, sir." Helena doesn't need to tap her foot for the brothers to know she's impatient, likely watching the second hand on her watch to make sure today's schedule is executed without a hitch.
"It does."
Joshua graciously waves his tail of followers into the room and walks with Jensen to their appointed seats. There's no chance for even whispered privacy-the King's attention is diverted straight away-so Jensen focuses on the fresh and colorful fruit that's been cut and arranged in delicate designs on his plate. One ear he keeps alert for the conversations around him-it would not do for the King's most trusted adviser to drift and miss anything important-but the other hearkens back to early morning, listening to the quiet voice in his head that last night kept his dreams at bay.
"You were dreaming."
Jared doesn't bother saying hello when he picks up.
"Yes," Jensen breathes into the cell phone, curled up on his side in the comfortable lounge chair. Dim light from his bedside table barely stretches across the room to where he sits by the glass doors to the balcony.
"I'm sorry I can't be there."
"Your family needs you."
"What can I do?" Jared offers quietly and without hesitation. It's later than late where he is, too, long past the midnight hour. "Do you want me to talk? Maybe listen..."
"No, you can talk."
The fire Jared first built in Jensen's heart nearly a year ago is kindled again when Jared doesn't even hesitate.
"First, you need to get out of that chair," Jared says knowingly. "Get back into bed."
"I'm good here."
"You say that now..." But in the morning Jensen would awake cramped, kinked, and-unfortunately for whomever he first came in contact with-very grouchy. Jensen-handsome, educated Prince of Shiloh-can get unbelievably grouchy.
"Fine," he grumbles and moves, but Jared waits patiently until Jensen's nestled back under the goose-down, weight heavy like the phantom presence of his boyfriend.
"What should I talk about?"
Anything, Jensen could say, but then he'd fall asleep hearing about the pet rats Jared tried to keep as a child-not the most peaceful image.
"Tell me about..."
It hardly matters what Jensen picks-Jared will ramble in a hundred directions. He's not listening to the details, and Jared's well aware that it's his voice that soothes and holds back Jensen's subconscious. Jared is the lone light against a dark army of dreams and night-plagues that began haunting Jensen nearly two years ago.
In Reverend Samuel's recorded teachings, the man of great faith claimed that all dreams were one-sixtieth part prophecy. In Jensen's experience, he only ever gets flashes of the past ringed in fire and anguish. He has no clear picture of the trauma but his unconscious mind supplies vivid and gruesome details. But Jared keeps talking and every word drags Jensen into a deeper peace where he's finally able to sleep. Where he can forget that he and his brother are orphans, though they're still the sons of Shiloh-hardly a comfort.
The real comfort is here with him even as Jared's hundreds of miles away in his own country.
Jared can't see him smile, but Jensen imagines that he feels it while Jensen drifts into dreamless oblivion, and words of love and nonsense follow him under.
Jensen has barely finished his eggs before all non-essential guests and staff are ushered out of the dining room and Helena lays into them. The aide's food hardly looks touched though Jensen notices that her coffee cup is never allowed to run empty.
Watching Joshua sit there so calmly-with such poise-reminds Jensen of how far they've both come since losing their parents. The accident that robbed the brothers of their family-and Shiloh of its beloved King and Queen-left a seemingly bottomless hole to fill. The road to where Joshua and Jensen stand now was impassable at first. Joshua had been thrust into his role and struggled to carry Jensen along when all his little brother wanted to do was curl up on the side of the road and waste away.
And now, years later, Joshua is the King their father had groomed him to be-a war hero turned brilliant politician. Jensen, always called the gentle son, had rediscovered his place at his brother's right hand. They would always be blood, stronger and more formidable together. Jensen returned from University capable and willing, and with a fresh drive for peace. He lit the fire; Joshua carried the torch.
Remembering the blood he shares with his brother and his departed family reminds Jensen of the other blood running in his veins. He knows it's fanciful, but there are times he can feel something else beneath his skin. Though Jensen's used to hearing Jared's voice in his dreams, this is a very different sensation-a secret he's unwilling to share.
The knife is plain silver.
Jared pilfered it earlier from Jensen's collection and cleaned the sharp blade thoroughly. It sits on the towels between Jared and Jensen where they're kneeling on the bed, both men bare-chested and flushed. The air is still, the room quiet. Lights have been dimmed to enhance the feeling of the ritual.
"Are you sure about this?"
Jensen's eyes are drawn to the knife like magnets and Jared's question-uttered for the fifth time in as many minutes-barely registers.
"I was sure a week ago when you first asked me that."
Two weeks past, Jared came to Jensen with this idea, almost immediately dismissing it as a silly ritual when Jensen was too shocked to respond. But the notion stayed with him and seven days ago Jensen was the one who broached the subject. Now at the moment of committal, Jensen's more sure than he's ever been.
"Do we have everything?"
They don't need much: the ceremonial knife, towels, and a first-aid kit just in case.
"Everything you told me to get," Jensen says, "plus you...and me."
He leans forward to get a small kiss from Jared, smiling when he pulls back. Jared's lips are tight and his eyes dart nervously between the bed, the knife, and Jensen.
"You're still nervous," Jensen presses, wanting everything in the open before they do this.
"Because you're here, sitting in front of me, willing to do this for me-"
"For us," Jensen corrects.
"Us..." Jared's smile becomes a little steadier. "I know."
"Tell me again."
Jared's head tilts slightly to the left when he looks up at Jensen.
"Tell me why we're doing this."
"If you don't want-"
"I do," Jensen says calmly. "But tell me again."
His boyfriend only ponders for a moment then meets Jensen's eyes with more resolve than Jensen's seen tonight, and a faint spark of humor.
"Because I could do worse than binding myself to Shiloh's Prince."
"Jay," he laughs softly while still managing to sound chastising.
"Sorry." Jared collects himself and lets the humor fade out of his voice. "Because then the only thing that's ever going to really matter is you and me. It won't matter if we're separated, or who gets to fuck who, or if we have a fight. The only thing that's going to matter or make any true sense to me is this."
He reaches out and lays his palm on over Jensen's heart. Jensen's blood is already pumping hard and he imagines he can feel the pulse of Jared's blood slowing to match the beat of his heart. What they're about to do is more intimate than anything Jensen's ever conjured, and yet the thought doesn't scare him. Since he made his decision he's avoided Jared-they circled each other in their own apartment-but every time their eyes met something passed between them. They were both nervous yet neither could deny the excitement. The feeling reminded Jensen of his cousin's wedding where the bride and groom were not supposed to see each other for almost a week before the ceremony.
But this is more than a wedding-those events are so public and catered to everyone but the couple. No, this is just for Jensen and Jared.
Without a word Jensen picks up the knife and takes Jared's hand. A second is all it takes to slice across Jared's palm-a clean and precise line with blood blossoming almost immediately-and Jensen hisses when he brings the knife to his own palm. Two mirrored lines press together as Jensen first, then Jared, speaks of love and forever. Of dedication and promises to always return to the other's side no matter what obstacles may hinder them. Jared throws in one or two more salacious promises amongst his vows that have Jensen blushing. The heat in Jensen's eyes begs Jared to follow through.
When it's silent, Jared crosses the space between them and bends Jensen back down onto the bed never breaking the seal of their palms. A thin trickle of crimson winds down Jared's forearm like cursive and Jensen reads it with his tongue. He knows what blood is-the atoms that form the structure. But Jensen's tongue processes the dark trail as sweet, a hint of metallic copper. Jared won't be left out-his mouth finds Jensen's and they share their mixed blood, staining their lips and chins.
Jared never lets go of Jensen's hand. Not when he bends down to take Jensen into his mouth, squeezing their hands together every time Jensen's hips buck up. Not when Jared brings their joined hands down and uses their combined fingers to slowly open Jensen. And all the while Jared's taking Jensen, in every position possible until the sun comes up, he never lets go, as if there is a rope bound around their wrists to physically tie them together. Jensen's never felt so close to anyone before and he knows then that nothing can tear them asunder.
And that's the thought he clings to when the sun rises and his entire future with Jared is illuminated before him.
Days like these are rare phenomena.
The coffee snaps along Jensen's nerves to make him more alert. The park that sprawls out from Unity Mansion's doorstep is a kaleidoscope of fall colors; oranges and reds wave with the breeze like a living flag before Jensen's eyes.
Shiloh's skyline is broken, jagged like shattered glass though it's still beautiful when the sun slants down upon it. War had no thought to be kind to those triumphs of engineering and technology, destroying beautiful skyscrapers as a means to break a nation. That the city of Shiloh and Gilboa still stand is a testament to that nation and its line of leaders. And that Shiloh, along with its nation, gathers today to spread peace once again is a testament to their young King and those who stand behind him.
Today is history come to life-the realization of everything Jensen's been working towards since he graduated from school, fueled by a different kind of fire. When Jensen came home, his first words to his brother were carefully worded demands for peace, an end to the standoff that was slowly killing two nations. The Prosperity Wars have been over for nearly two years, though harsh times and animosity lingered until now. Jensen aims to put all of that behind him and look to the life that's waiting for him on the other side of today.
Jensen takes a deep breath of the crisp, cool air. The heavens are clear, not a cloud in sight, and Jensen's heart warms at the sign that even God is smiling down upon this day. Before he rejoins his brother, Jensen takes a moment to stand and reflect, forgiving himself for any moments of doubt, anger, and frustration he's felt over the last year and a half. Without Jared by his side-their contact limited to phone calls and sparse emails-the days dragged longer and the skies did not seem nearly so clear. But those days are over, by the grace of God, and his city is waiting for the news to break and the treaty to be signed.
His city. Once, Jensen would have denied such a thing, but he feels it now as someone who's contributed to Shiloh's greatness.
"Sir-"
Jensen jumps at the intrusion and finds Helena standing behind him wearing a very unladylike smirk-and no heels.
"You wanted to sneak up on me?"
"It's more entertaining to see you startle." She shares a smile then clears her throat. "The press conference is ready when you are."
"Is everything set for the meeting?"
"As much as it can be, sir." Helena balances herself on the stone rail while she slips her shoes back on. The sunlight on her finely lined face makes her look younger than ever. "Forgive me, but your brother's staff are too excited to care about every detail."
"But I'm sure you've done your best to go over everything you can."
"I'm only one person, sir."
"You, Helena, are an army unto yourself." Jensen claps his hands together and the sound sends a few songbirds scattering away from the balcony. "Shall we?"
"Since I'm a prince, I think you should be writing this analysis for me."
"And since I am a free man, I'm going to tell you exactly where you can stick that attitude."
"Really?" Jensen's easily distracted when Jared's around, even if they're both attempting to study. "Where exactly do you want me to stick it?"
He abandons his papers and slithers towards the couch, eyes hot on Jared as he's sprawled out with his books propped on his stomach.
"Jen-" Jared warns though there's little weight behind it. "Don't."
"I'm merely giving the people what they want," whispers Jensen straight into Jared's ear, nipping gently at the lobe.
Jared flails and his books clatter to the floor.
"Don't you-ah!"
Later, their living room is a mess with scattered books and papers in disarray. The floor crinkles when Jensen rolls to tuck more closely against Jared's side, both naked and warm with their feet tucked into one of Jared's cotton sweatshirts. Jared was the one who'd insisted on getting the fire going before they began studying, but now Jensen's savors the feel of the sweat evaporating off his body, leaving him dry, spent, and completely happy.
That feeling-happiness-still amazes him. Once, Jensen thought he was no longer capable, as if that part of his mind had been lost to tragedy, now found and fitted back into place by Jared's hands. Now with the warmth of the fire at his back, Jensen lets the crackling and sparking of the logs wash over him along with Jared's soft voice.
"Tell me something."
"Mmmm," Jensen kisses Jared's chest, lips lingering. "Tell you what?"
"Anything-just share something with me."
Minutes pass in silence and Jared must think he's fallen asleep because his arms wrap more tightly around Jensen.
"Have I ever told you about the vineyard?"
Jared shakes his head, hair tickling Jensen's forehead.
"It's so beautiful, Jay," he says dreamily as he pictures the place in his mind. "Someday you'll see it. The water like glass spread around it, the sunlight off the waves. Lawns and garden paths take you away into other worlds-or so my brother and I imagined when we were little. It's a villa, all old stone and memories. No cameras were allowed there-the entire property was off limits to the press-and it was so freeing. Even when we were young, Josh and I knew how special that place was. My parents used to take us there on the weekend to get away from the city, but they stopped once Josh and I got older."
Jensen yawns in the middle of his story, and Jared adds his own. But he nudges Jensen with his shoulder to keep going despite how late it's gotten.
"They were going to sell it, you know?" Jensen continues quietly. "But I had some money of my own and I bought it before they-well, before. I wanted a place where-I just wanted a place, you know?" Jensen's frustration bleeds into his voice and Jared kisses his forehead gently to relieve some of it. "The entire country is mine, the city...and yet nothing is really mine."
"I'm yours."
Any other time, Jared's softly uttered words would have Jensen rolling his eyes and shutting his boyfriend up with a well-placed kiss or five. At this moment they pull Jensen deeper into the happiness that is so abundant when he and Jared are together. He can't respond other than to curl his body closer.
"We'll go there," Jared says eventually before Jensen fully drifts away into a dreamless wonderland. "That will be our place, I promise."
And if there's one thing about Jared that Jensen knows to his core, it's that his boyfriend is not one to break a promise. Minutes later, Jensen falls into sleep with the image of sun-kissed and blessed days by the sea.
"...To secure a new, and lasting peace with our neighbors to the North, as it should have been so long ago."
Jensen's answer is barely recorded before the press is clamoring in front of him, each reporter waving their hands to be selected next. Helena's staffer, Ezekiel, points to someone at random.
"Sir," his newest inquisitor stands. "This isn't the first time such a treaty has been pursued with Gath, only to have that nation become more aggressive. What makes this treaty so different, and are you really able to assure your people that peace will be long-lasting?"
"Can I ask you something?" Jensen surprises the room by posing his own question. The reporter nods. "Are you tired of war and constant fear?"
Everyone in the room, from Ezekiel standing beside Jensen to the rest of the press core, affirms in the same manner.
"Good, because so am I," he adds. "And so are the people living in Gath. They're tired much like we are, living with the threat that our cease-fire is going to shatter one way or another and pitch us all back into the blackness of full-scale war. Fortunately, that hasn't happened and we've been living through a fragile stand off with our neighbors to the North. War has worn us out, but Gath has weathered far worse...
He gives his response by rote-every detail of this day has been planned and rehearsed, such is its importance. As he's speaking, the rest of his mind wanders around the room. The Royal Press Room is actually rather drab and dreary, and Joshua always mocks that it was designed that way on purpose to put members of the press to sleep so they wouldn't ask too many questions. Their father used to tell the same joke. In reality, Jensen knows the room is bland to keep focus on the speaker, usually a member of the Royal Family or their staff. But, when he spies a red-headed woman in the back row trying her best to stifle a yawn, Jensen smirks in the middle of his speech.
"I long for the days of peace, when we can look to Gath as an ally and an equal contributor to our world. I want to meet the men and women of Gath on the streets and be able to shake their hands. Now comes the time when I truly believe that everyone is ready for peace, no matter if you're a soldier fighting on the lines, waiting day in and day out for the order that will send you home, or a General calling the shots from a hundred miles away. It doesn't matter if you've never seen fighting up close, just trying to get through your daily lives. We all want peace and this treaty, mutually drawn, is going to be the one that lasts."
The room erupts with new questions and Jensen draws a deep breath. What he speaks is true, as he can feel his readiness for peace down to his bones. Further, if he tries.
Ezekiel stands forward imposingly and motions to the loud gathering.
"I'm sure you understand that Prince Jensen has a busy day. We'll take one more question. Yes, you there!"
"Rona McKenzie of the UNN." It's the same woman who'd been yawning who introduces herself now. "Sir, it's no secret that you've been this treaty's champion since the day you came back from Gilboa University. What are you going to do once the papers are signed and the arms laid down for good?"
A thousand possibilities occur to Jensen-days and nights at his vineyard with Jared, finally able to relax-but he gives the same answer Helena and Joshua already approved.
"I'll never stop working towards the betterment of Shiloh and our nation," he answers with unwavering confidence, leaving the press hanging on for more. Then, Jensen grins. "But tonight, I'm going to sleep very well and I hope Shiloh will excuse me if I take breakfast a little late tomorrow."
The reporters are still laughing when Ezekiel ushers Jensen out of the room.
When Jensen yawns and cracks open his eyelids, Jared is already gone. The invigorating aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickles Jensen's nose-Jared has learned not to leave a mug by the bed when he leaves for class. His bright boyfriend has discovered that leaving the coffee in the kitchen ensures that Jensen will actually get out of bed on the days he doesn't have an early class or appointment.
Once he's poured a full cup and discovered Jared's dorky note wedged under the coffee maker, Jensen settles at the counter and reads the newspaper, enjoying his lazy morning.
His first six months back at university have been a whirlwind of ups and downs-all the ups due mainly to Jared. He's everything Jensen isn't supposed to love; Jared hails from Gath and only the fact that his aunt and uncle live in Gilboa allows him to study at the University. Jensen didn't care, but Jared was so nervous at first, questioning his worthiness to even be seen with the prince of Gilboa. It's taken months for them to find a steady peace with each other and with the world around them and it's been worth every argument and resolved misunderstanding.
Only a month ago Jensen invited Jared to live with him in his spacious apartment-saving him from the horrible campus housing, Jared likes to joke-but he's also taken Jared into his heart and built a permanent home for him there. That was an easy decision because in turn, Jared has saved Jensen from drowning in the misery he created around himself after his parents' death. Jared keeps Jensen's dreams at bay and when he's not faced with a new terror every night it becomes easier for him to face his days.
After showering and dressing, Jensen pours his third cup of coffee into a travel mug and walks out the front door. A large white envelope sits on his doorstep with only a familiar orange seal giving away its origin. Picking it up, Jensen spares a friendly wave towards the building across the street-the headquarters for a small security force Joshua and Helena refused to let him go without-and the dark sedan parked along the curb, ready to discreetly follow him while he walks the four blocks onto campus.
He walks and reads at the same time. Helena's precise handwriting details his return to Shiloh for the New Year's holidays and folded in with his itinerary is a full schedule of royal celebrations and appearances, chances for the young King and the Prince to be seen celebrating. A few months ago Jensen would have been thrilled at the chance to run back to Joshua's support, but he hesitates now.
For months after Joshua sent Jensen back to university- insisting it was better for the people to see them moving on and contributing, setting an example that Gilboan life goes on-all he wanted to do was go home. Despite living in the public eye, home meant familiar hideaways and people who would give Jensen enough space. Lately though, each day has felt less like a battle to stay afloat and more like living. And with Jared, personal space is overrated. There's little that feels more comfortable than folding into Jared at the end of a long day, reading on the couch together or trying every hole-in-the-wall campus restaurant or cafe.
Jensen tells himself that not going back to Shiloh is best for everyone-Joshua's people deserve a Prince who is genuine and whole. And Jensen, well, he's not quite there yet. But he will be. Every time Jared smiles at him, Jensen knows his boyfriend is fitting him back together.
The letter and itinerary get stuffed in Jensen's bag and when Helena's staff checks in with him three days later, Jensen gives them his regrets and his best.
Even through the glass doors separating him from the crowds, Jensen can hear the cheering outside.
People have lined the streets starting at Unity Place where Jensen and the King wait; they yell and clap as Premier of Gath's motorcade passes them by, and the noise gets louder as the cars drive closer. The tight band around Jensen's chest eases a bit when he realizes he can only hear sounds of joy and welcome.
"Jensen," Joshua leans close so that only his brother will hear in the crowded foyer of the Great Hall. "Have I said thank you yet?"
"To whom?" Jensen's eyes stay on the doors, looking through them and past the lines of soldiers and King's guards that wait on the stone steps, longing for the first glimpse of the motorcade. Joshua's laugh blows warm on his ear.
"To you, Jen," Joshua clarifies with affection. That makes Jensen pause and turn. "For your work, for your invaluable help and constant support. This is your day, not mine."
"I did it-" he starts, but the King waves away whatever else he's going to say.
"I know why you did it."
"Josh-"
"Promise me something, Jen." He almost bows to accept the forthcoming order before Joshua stops him. "Promise me that after today you'll take some time. Go to the vineyard, go wherever you want."
"You want me to go?"
"I want you to live again, like you did while you were away. You've spent a year and a half working by my side, and on your own when I was occupied with other things. You deserve a break."
"I don't need a break."
"I'll order you to take a vacation, and then you'll have no choice!" Joshua laughs and the staff around him smile nervously as if they've just missed a joke. Then softer, "Trust me, Jen. In ten minutes you'll be of a completely different mind."
The King turns forward and leaves Jensen to his thoughts. A buzz of conversation fills the cavernous foyer and echoes around him as last minute details are wrangled and dealt with.
To Jensen's right, an enormous mirror dominates the wall. Commissioned and installed by Jensen's father, the simply fashioned mirror was meant to confront guests and politicians as they arrived at Unity Place. Arranged so that no one could walk into the Great Hall without first seeing their own reflection-a way to ensure citizens and diplomats were faced with their own decisions and agendas-the mirror catches Jensen now. Barely ten years old when he first got to see himself in the highly polished, newly hung glass, there's no trace of that skinny, delicate boy now. Jensen sees a man standing tall and confident, as if even carrying the weight of the world couldn't stoop his shoulders. A man who's worked hard to deserve the life of privilege he has.
In the mirror, Jensen sees a man who has smiled more than he ever imagined he would after tragedy ripped away half of his world. The man in the mirror knows now, so many years later, that his world hadn't been torn away and lost for good, merely reshaped, and has found the very guide his soul was seeking to walk its paths with him.
Jensen and his reflection smile as the cheering reaches the main gates.
"Jensen!"
He hears the door rattling on its hinges as Jared bangs on it. Fine tremors reach Jensen on the couch where he's buried beneath heavy blankets and melancholy.
"I know you're in there. Please, Jensen..."
Jensen wishes he weren't here; he longs for a safe, cushioned existence where nothing can hurt him. But he hasn't found such a place, not in bottles of Gilboa's fine wine, not in the high-priced pharmaceuticals that are only too easy for someone with money to find. Not even sleep is a safe haven anymore, filled with darkness and the worst possible imaginings. He woke up last night in a tangle of sweaty sheets, gasping for air and nearly choking on his pillowcase. In the bathroom, Jensen had splashed water on his face and looked up to see his reflection in the mirror, his face ragged and his eyes sunken and weary. The muscles in his face felt wasted, as if they were no longer capable of a smile or a laugh. Jensen wouldn't take the chance of falling asleep again and so ended up on the couch staring at nothing until the banging started.
Speaking of which, the apartment's gone quiet and still. Jensen sinks further into cushions and blankets, eyes tracking the fine particles of floating dust as they're caught by sunlight streaming between cracks in his blinds. But he's not left in silence for long. Soft clicks and turns, metallic scratches can be heard and only a moment later Jensen hears his front door swing open. Then, Jared's voice from somewhere above his head.
"This isn't really what I expected to find."
Jensen can't even muster an apathetic groan. Suddenly Jared's kneeling in front of him, finding Jensen's face in his cotton cocoon. There's no anger tinting his eyes; they're soft and understanding, slightly teasing as Jared never seems to lose his good humor.
"I thought you'd drowned in your shower, maybe run away somewhere exotic." He fixes Jensen with a harder gaze. "At least have some decent excuse for not answering my calls or not going to class last week."
"I'm sorry." Jensen's apology barely makes it past his blankets, but Jared scoffs.
"I didn't come for an apology." Jared shakes his head and it only makes Jensen want to apologize again. "I came because I was worried and I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"I'm fine."
Jared's not fooled for a second. Even after only knowing Jensen for a few weeks, he can see through Jensen's bullshit like no other, save Joshua.
"No, you're not."
Jensen closes his eyes and shifts back further trying to hide. Far enough to where he can't hear Jared's pity or disappointment. But cold air hits his face when Jared yanks off his top blanket.
"Hey!"
"No hiding. Get up-"
Not one to be ordered out of his misery, Jensen resists. He deserves it-deserves to be alone and depressed, and he doesn't want to be a weight around Jared's neck no matter how capable he looks of carrying the load. Or how willing he seems to be. So he shakes off Jared's hands when he tries to pull Jensen up.
"What the hell are you even doing here?" Jensen snaps, escaping from his nest and putting some distance between them.
Jared's too patient; he barely blinks at the tantrum. "I told you-"
"Yeah, 'the goodness of your heart,' I heard. You've seen me-I'm still alive-so you can go."
"I'm not going anywhere. You need-"
"I don't need anything! All my life I've had people telling me what I need, so don't start. Just leave me alone."
He doesn't stay to let Jared read the lie in his eyes, hurrying to the master bedroom. Jared's dangerous. Rather, the things Jensen sees when he looks at Jared are dangerous, when he feels things he shouldn't be able to. Hope-a future. Jared is a means of letting go and living his life and Jensen's been terrified of finding such a person. Cut loose from the strange comfort of constant misery, Jensen may never find his warm haven.
Of course, Jensen never counted on meeting someone like Jared Padalecki. He shadows Jensen into the bedroom before the door closes. Whatever energy got Jensen into the bedroom quickly seeps away, leaving him exhausted.
"Please, Jared. Just go."
"It's a little late for that."
Jensen can't decipher Jared's tone and he turns to catch the strangest look on his face. Resignation in his smile, but affection in his eyes.
"What are you talking about?"
"It's too late for me, Jensen," Jared steps up to him, closer than he's ever been. He scratches the back of his neck nervously. "You-well, the first time I saw you, I think it was all over for me."
There's a significant part of Jensen that wants to deny what Jared's talking about, but the deeper part-that small voice that still tells Jensen to get up in the morning when his body won't cooperate, sounding suspiciously like his mother telling him to live-desperately reaches out. Fighting that pull, Jensen sits back on the bed and isn't surprised when Jared settles next to him.
One thing Jensen can't deny is his attraction to Jared. He's been open and honest since the day they met, kind and funny as he tried over and over again to make Jensen laugh. Jared's looks definitely favor his Gathian heritage-something else he hasn't hid from Jensen-with his slightly darker complexion and narrow eyes, proud features that Jensen's often found himself getting lost in. And all the while they've been friends, learning about each other in bits and pieces, Jensen's tried to kill the attraction he feels. Jensen knows Jared would be good for him, and he wants, but he would be poison to someone so carefree and wonderful.
"What can you see in me?" Jensen questions softly, afraid of the answer.
"I see everything you let me," Jared says, "and it's more than I think you realize. I've seen the way you look at me and I never want you to stop. I see the way you fight with yourself when you want something, but you're so convinced that nothing good can happen for you. I see it all and I want to make you realize that it doesn't have to be that way."
"You shouldn't, Jared-" Jensen tries. "Everyone keeps their distance with me, and I've gotten so used to it. Joshua-my brother-was the only one who wouldn't leave me be and even he sent me away eventually."
"He didn't send you away, you know that," Jared argues quietly. "He wants the best for you, and so do I. And I'll tell you right now that I can be stubborn as a mule, so you can try your best to push me away, but it's not going to work. Unless you tell me honestly that you don't want me-"
"No," Jensen insists, not giving Jared the chance to finish that horrible thought. A little too late Jensen realizes that his hands are on Jared's thighs, kneading into the hard muscle under his wool pants. When he glances back up, Jared's looking at him and he gets no warning before Jared's arms are around him and they're falling back onto the mattress. Jensen wants to wriggle away, but Jared's whispering in his ear and his body gives up. He curls against Jared and just lets go. The dreams that dragged him out of bed become a far-distant memory as they lie together sharing the same pillow. It's a novel thing for Jensen to be held like this. Jared's all around him, in every direction he turns, and Jensen feels safe as he's completely enveloped.
The gentle kiss on the back of Jensen's neck where the skin is clammy and warm is less of a surprise than it should be. It's followed by second one laid right below Jensen's ear. Jensen tries to stay awake, but he falls asleep after the fourth press of lips lands on his temple.
When he wakes up much later still wrapped up with Jared, he wonders how many kisses he missed while he was asleep. And he makes a new vow never to miss another.
He's wearing orange. His silk tie is the color of the Western sunset, a sign that the members of the Premier's party are as committed to this peace treaty as Joshua and his advisers. Jensen can't take his eyes off him-a year and a half has given his boyfriend a stronger build and more angular face. He walks steadily towards Jensen and Joshua with the rest of the assembly from Gath and Jensen considers asking Helena to hold onto his suit coat so he doesn't dash across the foyer and embarrass himself. He only rethinks that plan when he realizes Helena would probably tie him to a column just to make sure.
Jensen remains a careful step behind his King as introductions are made and photos are taken to record this historic event. When Joshua beckons him forward, Jensen almost stumbles when his feet get tangled up with a photographer's and he nearly falls right back into his boyfriend's arms.
"My closest adviser and the Prince of Shiloh, Jensen Ackles," the King announces to the Gathian Premier and his followers. The stout, balding Premier then waves his own party forward but Jensen can't pay attention to any of the names. Helena can fill him in later.
"And this is my councilman, Jared Padalecki," the Premier makes his introduction. "Actually, he's the very man I've selected to become ambassador to Gilboa when this treaty is signed and in the books."
If Jensen wasn't so keyed up he would faint. He never thought to imagine that Jared could be remaining in Shiloh permanently...
Then Jared is directly in front of him, smiling and shaking Jensen's hand, lingering in the touch when they're meant to separate. Joshua clears his throat and breaks the moment, but his eyes flash-and on Jensen's brother, that's a dangerous expression.
"If you're agreeable, I think we must give our nations the peace they've long deserved," Joshua announces, and the Premier quickly agrees with a grin for the cameras. "After that, we'll be able to celebrate our achievement in grand fashion tonight, although I think my brother is eager to hammer out some details with your ambassador."
The joke is thankfully lost on everyone except Jensen and Jared, though Helena squeaks from somewhere behind them. Jensen wishes it were appropriate for him to smack the back of Joshua's head in front of the national press and half of Gath's most prominent politicians. It would be just Jensen's luck to cause an international incident on what should be the best day of his life.
"I'm agreeable to that," Jared adds with a smirk, and Jensen wonders if he shouldn't smack him as well. However he has no time to ponder that possibility as the entire group is led towards the Great Hall, Jared falling automatically into place at Jensen's side. Their fingers brush with every stride, and Jensen chances a quick squeeze of Jared's wrist.
"Welcome to Shiloh," Jensen says, all the familiar affection clear in his voice.
Leaning low so his response is kept between them, Jared whispers, "It already feels like home."
He's wearing orange. A vibrant shade of clementine that to the people of Shiloh has always represented perseverance and hope.
The next breath Jensen draws in feels wholly different from the last as if the air itself has changed. He's struck still in his seat in the small lecture hall, jolted out of his mental fog by more than six feet worth of smile and confidence that sits down next to him wearing a bright t-shirt under his plain gray sweatshirt.
"Hey." The man sticks out his hand and Jensen automatically shakes it without a word. "I'm glad I made it, I thought I was going to miss my first graduate seminar."
Jensen hadn't even noticed that his professor is already four slides into his presentation while Jensen's laptop screen is stuck on a blank page.
"I'm Jared, by the way."
"Jensen," he offers when Jared looks at him expectantly.
"Yeah, I sort of-well, I know who you are." It's a reaction Jensen's well used to, but he hopes his smile is genuine. Jared adds, "Is it alright if I sit here?"
Jensen nods, and anything else Jared could say is interrupted by their lecturer. He spends the entire seminar trying to tune everything and everyone out the way he's been doing for months now, but his eyes keep drifting to the way Jared's fingers move over his laptop keys. Jared catches him more than once, grinning and whispering whenever the lecturer covers something he doesn't agree with.
It feels like he's been asleep for months and everything is still hazy. But when Jared asks him to grab coffee at the end of their seminar, Jensen silently agrees and follows the bounce in Jared's step all the way to the nearest cafe. And in the middle of Jared's non-stop chatter, Jensen thinks that maybe it's time to wake up.
THE BEGINNING.
for jack who never got his happy ending.
Well, this was sort of an adventure to write! I saw a few episodes of Kings over the summer and LOVED it, especially Jack's storyline because it was more compelling to me than Michelle's. Then, this fall, I bought the DVDs and sort of mainlined them in a week. It was always in my head to write something based in that world, definitely something J2, and the story was always going to be about Jensen the Prince, and Jared the Gathian. Then, the story got lost amongst other ideas, and only when I checked out allopen's list of favorite TV shows did the idea come back and start sparking!
To allopen - I really hope you enjoy this, as it was a pleasure to write! May the rest of your holiday season be merry! And to everyone else, I hope y'all can appreciate this even if you've never seen Kings. I didn't delve deeply enough into the world to make it difficult, and who can't appreciate a story with Prince Jensen? Come on! And to annabeth_fics, this story would not have been finished, or been nearly as complete, without your help. I OWE YOU SOME SERIOUS NAKED!SAM. ♥
pairing. Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki [Alternate Universe]
rating. R
summary. Jensen is everything a Prince should be. Jared is everything he's not supposed to love.
words. 8100
beta. The wonderful annabeth_fics, though all remaining mistakes are mine.
n.b. This is a J2 story set in the universe created by the NBC show, Kings. Knowledge of Kings is not necessary to read the fic, however. All you need to know is that Jensen is a Prince, and adviser to his brother the King. Jared hails from an enemy nation. Written for allopen during the spn_j2_xmas exchange. Hopefully I was able to get some of your likes in this, mostly college!au (of a sort), political!fic, established relationship, no angst, a little bit of blood, and a happy ending. Plus, you and I have a favorite show in common :) I really hope you enjoy this, and MERRY CHRISTMAS! ♥ ♥
"Sir, your car is waiting out front."
A familiar shadow falls over Jensen's shoulder, and he nods without turning towards the impeccably suited chauffeur.
"I'll be out in a moment."
"Very good, sir."
The man quickly steps out and Jensen takes a deep breath, leaning back against the solid form he knows is there.
"Tell me I don't have to go."
Nothing.
"Tell me you don't want me to go," Jensen attempts again.
"I don't want you to go," is the quiet response.
He's never been prone to emotional displays, but Jensen feels the tide surging within him. He's doing more than leaving his home-his comfortable haven for the last two years. Forced by duty and obligation to leave the one person who has felt like home in a long time-someone who saved Jensen from the wreck he was making of himself, and never asked for the debt to be repaid.
Jared steps in front of Jensen and pulls him close.
"We knew it was coming," Jared offers with a confidence Jensen wishes could bleed through their skin and fill him as well. "And we know what we're going to do."
It should make Jensen feel better but it really doesn't. Not when Jared and he have talked about it for weeks-months-without making their peace. Lip service is all well and good, but so many things could happen. Jensen trusts Jared enough to know that his heart is safe, but their world is so fragile and thin. It wouldn't take a particularly hard shake to shatter what they've been able to build-the forces numbered against them grow larger every day. They're not strangers to struggle and compromise, but Jensen and Jared face more obstacles than most.
Theirs is the stuff of twisted fairy-tales; it's not every day that a young, handsome Gilboan prince gets saved by an enemy and falls in love. In Jensen's mind, 'Gathian' is just another word he could use to describe Jared, albeit one that is well hidden behind more important words like kind, generous, intelligent, stubborn, and enthusiastic. And Jared never cared that Jensen's life could be a hectic mess of royal obligations even away from Shiloh-Gilboa's seat of power-or that Jensen himself could be a hectic mess.
Love hasn't made them blind to faults and messy pasts. Rather, love has allowed them to see every facet of each other, barring nothing, and accept whatever they find.
The chauffeur hustles back, completely unfazed by the two men embracing though his lips are pinched with impatience.
"Need I remind you what Helena will do to you if you're late to table for your return banquet, sir?"
"You need not," Jensen swallows, sees Jared smirking. "I'd sooner face a Goliath alone."
"Wouldn't we all, sir."
Waving him away for the second time, Jensen's heart sinks.
"It's time."
"How long do we have to wait?" Jensen asks, putting space between their bodies without letting go of Jared's hands.
"Depends on how hard we work," Jared says casually, but Jensen knows how serious he is, and how hard they'll both have to work to come back together. Old prejudices of two great nations are not easily overcome. "We can do this-I have faith in you, and I will always be with you."
Reassurances have been traded back and forth for so long that Jensen just nods. Time won't oblige him by slowing down, and the third time the chauffeur comes to collect him, Jensen knows he needs to step out of Jared's arms after one last hug. He lets his last words to Jared be ones of affection instead of concern for his boyfriend's safety. Traveling from their Gilboan home into Gath isn't impossible, but the roads are still treacherous and the battles could spark up again at any moment.
In the comfortably appointed car that his brother-or more likely Helena-has sent, Jensen stares back at the doorstep of his old apartment building through the tinted windows. Jared has already disappeared.
Small orange flags, miniature replicas of the great symbol of Gilboa, wave and flutter on the car's hood, announcing to all they pass that Jensen, absent son of Shiloh, is finally going home.
"The King approaches."
Jensen schools the grin on his face down to a more appropriate expression and waits in the marble hallway. Pure morning sunlight diffuses through the cathedral windows at the eastern end of the cavernous hall, reflecting off the polished gold buttons on the guards' uniforms. The clicking of Helena's heels on stone heralds the arrival of Jensen's brother. Joshua turns the corner with his shrewd and faithful aide-de-camp bustling at his side in a smartly tailored navy blue suit, her expression already harried and her competent hands filled with the day's agenda.
But Joshua, youngest King in Gilboa's short history, has a only smile for his little brother, the luminance of which matches the light pouring through the windows.
"Good morning!" The King says with full enthusiasm, as if Joshua hasn't already been up for a few hours going over the day's events with a finer-than-fine toothed comb.
"Joshua."
"Jensen," the King mocks with good humor, each brother hiding their amusement at the formal routine.
Falling into step beside his brother, Helena and her entourage relegated to the rear, they begin their walk through Unity Mansion. Jensen feels comfortable in one of his finest suits-the lighter fabric hand selected by Helena to complement Joshua's darker three-piece, though they both wear similar ties of burnished gold silk.
"How'd you sleep?" Joshua asks as they pass a line of saluting soldiers.
"Fine," Jensen considers, correcting his steps after Joshua nudges his shoulder. "I didn't dream last night."
"Unusual for you. I always thought dreams could bring prophecies, but perhaps in your case it is their absence that speaks volumes."
A full night's sleep lightens Jensen's feet as they walk to the formal dining room, foregoing their casual breakfast to accommodate today's hectic schedules. Jensen understands that nearly the entire city of Shiloh awoke with bated breath this morning, anticipation and apprehension crowding around breakfast tables with Gilboan families. But Jensen woke up with a long yawn and an easy stretch as the dawn light spoke to him in familiar whispers. As it rose and covered his bedroom in a milky yellow glow, the light spoke to Jensen of soft memories and hard decisions, soon to be rectified. He's waited over a year and a half for this day.
Entering the opulent hall, Jensen's hit full force by the scents of a dozen bouquets carefully arranged around the room. Orange and yellow blooms fill crystal vases and brighten the lavish space-cheerful symbols of the day's aims. Joshua steps toe-to-toe with a gray-suited doorman and considers his impeccable uniform.
"Look alive," the King commands with an approving smile. "Do not look so nervous. Should you be nervous?"
"No, sir."
"I didn't think so!" Joshua's grin twists to a friendly smirk. "It's a good day, remember that. Genuine smiles today, for we'll have much to celebrate. Spread my words around to the rest of the staff, would you, Dylan?"
One of the many things Jensen admires about his brother-Joshua has never needed name tags or whispered reminders. He's blessed with the photographic memory Jensen lacks. Though even if Jensen were equally gifted, his mind would be filled with snapshots of familiar naked skin, nuances of a certain smile frozen in time. He would save no room for names and dates and mindless minutiae save for one object of focus.
"Your meal awaits, sir." Helena doesn't need to tap her foot for the brothers to know she's impatient, likely watching the second hand on her watch to make sure today's schedule is executed without a hitch.
"It does."
Joshua graciously waves his tail of followers into the room and walks with Jensen to their appointed seats. There's no chance for even whispered privacy-the King's attention is diverted straight away-so Jensen focuses on the fresh and colorful fruit that's been cut and arranged in delicate designs on his plate. One ear he keeps alert for the conversations around him-it would not do for the King's most trusted adviser to drift and miss anything important-but the other hearkens back to early morning, listening to the quiet voice in his head that last night kept his dreams at bay.
"You were dreaming."
Jared doesn't bother saying hello when he picks up.
"Yes," Jensen breathes into the cell phone, curled up on his side in the comfortable lounge chair. Dim light from his bedside table barely stretches across the room to where he sits by the glass doors to the balcony.
"I'm sorry I can't be there."
"Your family needs you."
"What can I do?" Jared offers quietly and without hesitation. It's later than late where he is, too, long past the midnight hour. "Do you want me to talk? Maybe listen..."
"No, you can talk."
The fire Jared first built in Jensen's heart nearly a year ago is kindled again when Jared doesn't even hesitate.
"First, you need to get out of that chair," Jared says knowingly. "Get back into bed."
"I'm good here."
"You say that now..." But in the morning Jensen would awake cramped, kinked, and-unfortunately for whomever he first came in contact with-very grouchy. Jensen-handsome, educated Prince of Shiloh-can get unbelievably grouchy.
"Fine," he grumbles and moves, but Jared waits patiently until Jensen's nestled back under the goose-down, weight heavy like the phantom presence of his boyfriend.
"What should I talk about?"
Anything, Jensen could say, but then he'd fall asleep hearing about the pet rats Jared tried to keep as a child-not the most peaceful image.
"Tell me about..."
It hardly matters what Jensen picks-Jared will ramble in a hundred directions. He's not listening to the details, and Jared's well aware that it's his voice that soothes and holds back Jensen's subconscious. Jared is the lone light against a dark army of dreams and night-plagues that began haunting Jensen nearly two years ago.
In Reverend Samuel's recorded teachings, the man of great faith claimed that all dreams were one-sixtieth part prophecy. In Jensen's experience, he only ever gets flashes of the past ringed in fire and anguish. He has no clear picture of the trauma but his unconscious mind supplies vivid and gruesome details. But Jared keeps talking and every word drags Jensen into a deeper peace where he's finally able to sleep. Where he can forget that he and his brother are orphans, though they're still the sons of Shiloh-hardly a comfort.
The real comfort is here with him even as Jared's hundreds of miles away in his own country.
Jared can't see him smile, but Jensen imagines that he feels it while Jensen drifts into dreamless oblivion, and words of love and nonsense follow him under.
Jensen has barely finished his eggs before all non-essential guests and staff are ushered out of the dining room and Helena lays into them. The aide's food hardly looks touched though Jensen notices that her coffee cup is never allowed to run empty.
Watching Joshua sit there so calmly-with such poise-reminds Jensen of how far they've both come since losing their parents. The accident that robbed the brothers of their family-and Shiloh of its beloved King and Queen-left a seemingly bottomless hole to fill. The road to where Joshua and Jensen stand now was impassable at first. Joshua had been thrust into his role and struggled to carry Jensen along when all his little brother wanted to do was curl up on the side of the road and waste away.
And now, years later, Joshua is the King their father had groomed him to be-a war hero turned brilliant politician. Jensen, always called the gentle son, had rediscovered his place at his brother's right hand. They would always be blood, stronger and more formidable together. Jensen returned from University capable and willing, and with a fresh drive for peace. He lit the fire; Joshua carried the torch.
Remembering the blood he shares with his brother and his departed family reminds Jensen of the other blood running in his veins. He knows it's fanciful, but there are times he can feel something else beneath his skin. Though Jensen's used to hearing Jared's voice in his dreams, this is a very different sensation-a secret he's unwilling to share.
The knife is plain silver.
Jared pilfered it earlier from Jensen's collection and cleaned the sharp blade thoroughly. It sits on the towels between Jared and Jensen where they're kneeling on the bed, both men bare-chested and flushed. The air is still, the room quiet. Lights have been dimmed to enhance the feeling of the ritual.
"Are you sure about this?"
Jensen's eyes are drawn to the knife like magnets and Jared's question-uttered for the fifth time in as many minutes-barely registers.
"I was sure a week ago when you first asked me that."
Two weeks past, Jared came to Jensen with this idea, almost immediately dismissing it as a silly ritual when Jensen was too shocked to respond. But the notion stayed with him and seven days ago Jensen was the one who broached the subject. Now at the moment of committal, Jensen's more sure than he's ever been.
"Do we have everything?"
They don't need much: the ceremonial knife, towels, and a first-aid kit just in case.
"Everything you told me to get," Jensen says, "plus you...and me."
He leans forward to get a small kiss from Jared, smiling when he pulls back. Jared's lips are tight and his eyes dart nervously between the bed, the knife, and Jensen.
"You're still nervous," Jensen presses, wanting everything in the open before they do this.
"Because you're here, sitting in front of me, willing to do this for me-"
"For us," Jensen corrects.
"Us..." Jared's smile becomes a little steadier. "I know."
"Tell me again."
Jared's head tilts slightly to the left when he looks up at Jensen.
"Tell me why we're doing this."
"If you don't want-"
"I do," Jensen says calmly. "But tell me again."
His boyfriend only ponders for a moment then meets Jensen's eyes with more resolve than Jensen's seen tonight, and a faint spark of humor.
"Because I could do worse than binding myself to Shiloh's Prince."
"Jay," he laughs softly while still managing to sound chastising.
"Sorry." Jared collects himself and lets the humor fade out of his voice. "Because then the only thing that's ever going to really matter is you and me. It won't matter if we're separated, or who gets to fuck who, or if we have a fight. The only thing that's going to matter or make any true sense to me is this."
He reaches out and lays his palm on over Jensen's heart. Jensen's blood is already pumping hard and he imagines he can feel the pulse of Jared's blood slowing to match the beat of his heart. What they're about to do is more intimate than anything Jensen's ever conjured, and yet the thought doesn't scare him. Since he made his decision he's avoided Jared-they circled each other in their own apartment-but every time their eyes met something passed between them. They were both nervous yet neither could deny the excitement. The feeling reminded Jensen of his cousin's wedding where the bride and groom were not supposed to see each other for almost a week before the ceremony.
But this is more than a wedding-those events are so public and catered to everyone but the couple. No, this is just for Jensen and Jared.
Without a word Jensen picks up the knife and takes Jared's hand. A second is all it takes to slice across Jared's palm-a clean and precise line with blood blossoming almost immediately-and Jensen hisses when he brings the knife to his own palm. Two mirrored lines press together as Jensen first, then Jared, speaks of love and forever. Of dedication and promises to always return to the other's side no matter what obstacles may hinder them. Jared throws in one or two more salacious promises amongst his vows that have Jensen blushing. The heat in Jensen's eyes begs Jared to follow through.
When it's silent, Jared crosses the space between them and bends Jensen back down onto the bed never breaking the seal of their palms. A thin trickle of crimson winds down Jared's forearm like cursive and Jensen reads it with his tongue. He knows what blood is-the atoms that form the structure. But Jensen's tongue processes the dark trail as sweet, a hint of metallic copper. Jared won't be left out-his mouth finds Jensen's and they share their mixed blood, staining their lips and chins.
Jared never lets go of Jensen's hand. Not when he bends down to take Jensen into his mouth, squeezing their hands together every time Jensen's hips buck up. Not when Jared brings their joined hands down and uses their combined fingers to slowly open Jensen. And all the while Jared's taking Jensen, in every position possible until the sun comes up, he never lets go, as if there is a rope bound around their wrists to physically tie them together. Jensen's never felt so close to anyone before and he knows then that nothing can tear them asunder.
And that's the thought he clings to when the sun rises and his entire future with Jared is illuminated before him.
Days like these are rare phenomena.
The coffee snaps along Jensen's nerves to make him more alert. The park that sprawls out from Unity Mansion's doorstep is a kaleidoscope of fall colors; oranges and reds wave with the breeze like a living flag before Jensen's eyes.
Shiloh's skyline is broken, jagged like shattered glass though it's still beautiful when the sun slants down upon it. War had no thought to be kind to those triumphs of engineering and technology, destroying beautiful skyscrapers as a means to break a nation. That the city of Shiloh and Gilboa still stand is a testament to that nation and its line of leaders. And that Shiloh, along with its nation, gathers today to spread peace once again is a testament to their young King and those who stand behind him.
Today is history come to life-the realization of everything Jensen's been working towards since he graduated from school, fueled by a different kind of fire. When Jensen came home, his first words to his brother were carefully worded demands for peace, an end to the standoff that was slowly killing two nations. The Prosperity Wars have been over for nearly two years, though harsh times and animosity lingered until now. Jensen aims to put all of that behind him and look to the life that's waiting for him on the other side of today.
Jensen takes a deep breath of the crisp, cool air. The heavens are clear, not a cloud in sight, and Jensen's heart warms at the sign that even God is smiling down upon this day. Before he rejoins his brother, Jensen takes a moment to stand and reflect, forgiving himself for any moments of doubt, anger, and frustration he's felt over the last year and a half. Without Jared by his side-their contact limited to phone calls and sparse emails-the days dragged longer and the skies did not seem nearly so clear. But those days are over, by the grace of God, and his city is waiting for the news to break and the treaty to be signed.
His city. Once, Jensen would have denied such a thing, but he feels it now as someone who's contributed to Shiloh's greatness.
"Sir-"
Jensen jumps at the intrusion and finds Helena standing behind him wearing a very unladylike smirk-and no heels.
"You wanted to sneak up on me?"
"It's more entertaining to see you startle." She shares a smile then clears her throat. "The press conference is ready when you are."
"Is everything set for the meeting?"
"As much as it can be, sir." Helena balances herself on the stone rail while she slips her shoes back on. The sunlight on her finely lined face makes her look younger than ever. "Forgive me, but your brother's staff are too excited to care about every detail."
"But I'm sure you've done your best to go over everything you can."
"I'm only one person, sir."
"You, Helena, are an army unto yourself." Jensen claps his hands together and the sound sends a few songbirds scattering away from the balcony. "Shall we?"
"Since I'm a prince, I think you should be writing this analysis for me."
"And since I am a free man, I'm going to tell you exactly where you can stick that attitude."
"Really?" Jensen's easily distracted when Jared's around, even if they're both attempting to study. "Where exactly do you want me to stick it?"
He abandons his papers and slithers towards the couch, eyes hot on Jared as he's sprawled out with his books propped on his stomach.
"Jen-" Jared warns though there's little weight behind it. "Don't."
"I'm merely giving the people what they want," whispers Jensen straight into Jared's ear, nipping gently at the lobe.
Jared flails and his books clatter to the floor.
"Don't you-ah!"
Later, their living room is a mess with scattered books and papers in disarray. The floor crinkles when Jensen rolls to tuck more closely against Jared's side, both naked and warm with their feet tucked into one of Jared's cotton sweatshirts. Jared was the one who'd insisted on getting the fire going before they began studying, but now Jensen's savors the feel of the sweat evaporating off his body, leaving him dry, spent, and completely happy.
That feeling-happiness-still amazes him. Once, Jensen thought he was no longer capable, as if that part of his mind had been lost to tragedy, now found and fitted back into place by Jared's hands. Now with the warmth of the fire at his back, Jensen lets the crackling and sparking of the logs wash over him along with Jared's soft voice.
"Tell me something."
"Mmmm," Jensen kisses Jared's chest, lips lingering. "Tell you what?"
"Anything-just share something with me."
Minutes pass in silence and Jared must think he's fallen asleep because his arms wrap more tightly around Jensen.
"Have I ever told you about the vineyard?"
Jared shakes his head, hair tickling Jensen's forehead.
"It's so beautiful, Jay," he says dreamily as he pictures the place in his mind. "Someday you'll see it. The water like glass spread around it, the sunlight off the waves. Lawns and garden paths take you away into other worlds-or so my brother and I imagined when we were little. It's a villa, all old stone and memories. No cameras were allowed there-the entire property was off limits to the press-and it was so freeing. Even when we were young, Josh and I knew how special that place was. My parents used to take us there on the weekend to get away from the city, but they stopped once Josh and I got older."
Jensen yawns in the middle of his story, and Jared adds his own. But he nudges Jensen with his shoulder to keep going despite how late it's gotten.
"They were going to sell it, you know?" Jensen continues quietly. "But I had some money of my own and I bought it before they-well, before. I wanted a place where-I just wanted a place, you know?" Jensen's frustration bleeds into his voice and Jared kisses his forehead gently to relieve some of it. "The entire country is mine, the city...and yet nothing is really mine."
"I'm yours."
Any other time, Jared's softly uttered words would have Jensen rolling his eyes and shutting his boyfriend up with a well-placed kiss or five. At this moment they pull Jensen deeper into the happiness that is so abundant when he and Jared are together. He can't respond other than to curl his body closer.
"We'll go there," Jared says eventually before Jensen fully drifts away into a dreamless wonderland. "That will be our place, I promise."
And if there's one thing about Jared that Jensen knows to his core, it's that his boyfriend is not one to break a promise. Minutes later, Jensen falls into sleep with the image of sun-kissed and blessed days by the sea.
"...To secure a new, and lasting peace with our neighbors to the North, as it should have been so long ago."
Jensen's answer is barely recorded before the press is clamoring in front of him, each reporter waving their hands to be selected next. Helena's staffer, Ezekiel, points to someone at random.
"Sir," his newest inquisitor stands. "This isn't the first time such a treaty has been pursued with Gath, only to have that nation become more aggressive. What makes this treaty so different, and are you really able to assure your people that peace will be long-lasting?"
"Can I ask you something?" Jensen surprises the room by posing his own question. The reporter nods. "Are you tired of war and constant fear?"
Everyone in the room, from Ezekiel standing beside Jensen to the rest of the press core, affirms in the same manner.
"Good, because so am I," he adds. "And so are the people living in Gath. They're tired much like we are, living with the threat that our cease-fire is going to shatter one way or another and pitch us all back into the blackness of full-scale war. Fortunately, that hasn't happened and we've been living through a fragile stand off with our neighbors to the North. War has worn us out, but Gath has weathered far worse...
He gives his response by rote-every detail of this day has been planned and rehearsed, such is its importance. As he's speaking, the rest of his mind wanders around the room. The Royal Press Room is actually rather drab and dreary, and Joshua always mocks that it was designed that way on purpose to put members of the press to sleep so they wouldn't ask too many questions. Their father used to tell the same joke. In reality, Jensen knows the room is bland to keep focus on the speaker, usually a member of the Royal Family or their staff. But, when he spies a red-headed woman in the back row trying her best to stifle a yawn, Jensen smirks in the middle of his speech.
"I long for the days of peace, when we can look to Gath as an ally and an equal contributor to our world. I want to meet the men and women of Gath on the streets and be able to shake their hands. Now comes the time when I truly believe that everyone is ready for peace, no matter if you're a soldier fighting on the lines, waiting day in and day out for the order that will send you home, or a General calling the shots from a hundred miles away. It doesn't matter if you've never seen fighting up close, just trying to get through your daily lives. We all want peace and this treaty, mutually drawn, is going to be the one that lasts."
The room erupts with new questions and Jensen draws a deep breath. What he speaks is true, as he can feel his readiness for peace down to his bones. Further, if he tries.
Ezekiel stands forward imposingly and motions to the loud gathering.
"I'm sure you understand that Prince Jensen has a busy day. We'll take one more question. Yes, you there!"
"Rona McKenzie of the UNN." It's the same woman who'd been yawning who introduces herself now. "Sir, it's no secret that you've been this treaty's champion since the day you came back from Gilboa University. What are you going to do once the papers are signed and the arms laid down for good?"
A thousand possibilities occur to Jensen-days and nights at his vineyard with Jared, finally able to relax-but he gives the same answer Helena and Joshua already approved.
"I'll never stop working towards the betterment of Shiloh and our nation," he answers with unwavering confidence, leaving the press hanging on for more. Then, Jensen grins. "But tonight, I'm going to sleep very well and I hope Shiloh will excuse me if I take breakfast a little late tomorrow."
The reporters are still laughing when Ezekiel ushers Jensen out of the room.
When Jensen yawns and cracks open his eyelids, Jared is already gone. The invigorating aroma of freshly brewed coffee tickles Jensen's nose-Jared has learned not to leave a mug by the bed when he leaves for class. His bright boyfriend has discovered that leaving the coffee in the kitchen ensures that Jensen will actually get out of bed on the days he doesn't have an early class or appointment.
Once he's poured a full cup and discovered Jared's dorky note wedged under the coffee maker, Jensen settles at the counter and reads the newspaper, enjoying his lazy morning.
His first six months back at university have been a whirlwind of ups and downs-all the ups due mainly to Jared. He's everything Jensen isn't supposed to love; Jared hails from Gath and only the fact that his aunt and uncle live in Gilboa allows him to study at the University. Jensen didn't care, but Jared was so nervous at first, questioning his worthiness to even be seen with the prince of Gilboa. It's taken months for them to find a steady peace with each other and with the world around them and it's been worth every argument and resolved misunderstanding.
Only a month ago Jensen invited Jared to live with him in his spacious apartment-saving him from the horrible campus housing, Jared likes to joke-but he's also taken Jared into his heart and built a permanent home for him there. That was an easy decision because in turn, Jared has saved Jensen from drowning in the misery he created around himself after his parents' death. Jared keeps Jensen's dreams at bay and when he's not faced with a new terror every night it becomes easier for him to face his days.
After showering and dressing, Jensen pours his third cup of coffee into a travel mug and walks out the front door. A large white envelope sits on his doorstep with only a familiar orange seal giving away its origin. Picking it up, Jensen spares a friendly wave towards the building across the street-the headquarters for a small security force Joshua and Helena refused to let him go without-and the dark sedan parked along the curb, ready to discreetly follow him while he walks the four blocks onto campus.
He walks and reads at the same time. Helena's precise handwriting details his return to Shiloh for the New Year's holidays and folded in with his itinerary is a full schedule of royal celebrations and appearances, chances for the young King and the Prince to be seen celebrating. A few months ago Jensen would have been thrilled at the chance to run back to Joshua's support, but he hesitates now.
For months after Joshua sent Jensen back to university- insisting it was better for the people to see them moving on and contributing, setting an example that Gilboan life goes on-all he wanted to do was go home. Despite living in the public eye, home meant familiar hideaways and people who would give Jensen enough space. Lately though, each day has felt less like a battle to stay afloat and more like living. And with Jared, personal space is overrated. There's little that feels more comfortable than folding into Jared at the end of a long day, reading on the couch together or trying every hole-in-the-wall campus restaurant or cafe.
Jensen tells himself that not going back to Shiloh is best for everyone-Joshua's people deserve a Prince who is genuine and whole. And Jensen, well, he's not quite there yet. But he will be. Every time Jared smiles at him, Jensen knows his boyfriend is fitting him back together.
The letter and itinerary get stuffed in Jensen's bag and when Helena's staff checks in with him three days later, Jensen gives them his regrets and his best.
Even through the glass doors separating him from the crowds, Jensen can hear the cheering outside.
People have lined the streets starting at Unity Place where Jensen and the King wait; they yell and clap as Premier of Gath's motorcade passes them by, and the noise gets louder as the cars drive closer. The tight band around Jensen's chest eases a bit when he realizes he can only hear sounds of joy and welcome.
"Jensen," Joshua leans close so that only his brother will hear in the crowded foyer of the Great Hall. "Have I said thank you yet?"
"To whom?" Jensen's eyes stay on the doors, looking through them and past the lines of soldiers and King's guards that wait on the stone steps, longing for the first glimpse of the motorcade. Joshua's laugh blows warm on his ear.
"To you, Jen," Joshua clarifies with affection. That makes Jensen pause and turn. "For your work, for your invaluable help and constant support. This is your day, not mine."
"I did it-" he starts, but the King waves away whatever else he's going to say.
"I know why you did it."
"Josh-"
"Promise me something, Jen." He almost bows to accept the forthcoming order before Joshua stops him. "Promise me that after today you'll take some time. Go to the vineyard, go wherever you want."
"You want me to go?"
"I want you to live again, like you did while you were away. You've spent a year and a half working by my side, and on your own when I was occupied with other things. You deserve a break."
"I don't need a break."
"I'll order you to take a vacation, and then you'll have no choice!" Joshua laughs and the staff around him smile nervously as if they've just missed a joke. Then softer, "Trust me, Jen. In ten minutes you'll be of a completely different mind."
The King turns forward and leaves Jensen to his thoughts. A buzz of conversation fills the cavernous foyer and echoes around him as last minute details are wrangled and dealt with.
To Jensen's right, an enormous mirror dominates the wall. Commissioned and installed by Jensen's father, the simply fashioned mirror was meant to confront guests and politicians as they arrived at Unity Place. Arranged so that no one could walk into the Great Hall without first seeing their own reflection-a way to ensure citizens and diplomats were faced with their own decisions and agendas-the mirror catches Jensen now. Barely ten years old when he first got to see himself in the highly polished, newly hung glass, there's no trace of that skinny, delicate boy now. Jensen sees a man standing tall and confident, as if even carrying the weight of the world couldn't stoop his shoulders. A man who's worked hard to deserve the life of privilege he has.
In the mirror, Jensen sees a man who has smiled more than he ever imagined he would after tragedy ripped away half of his world. The man in the mirror knows now, so many years later, that his world hadn't been torn away and lost for good, merely reshaped, and has found the very guide his soul was seeking to walk its paths with him.
Jensen and his reflection smile as the cheering reaches the main gates.
"Jensen!"
He hears the door rattling on its hinges as Jared bangs on it. Fine tremors reach Jensen on the couch where he's buried beneath heavy blankets and melancholy.
"I know you're in there. Please, Jensen..."
Jensen wishes he weren't here; he longs for a safe, cushioned existence where nothing can hurt him. But he hasn't found such a place, not in bottles of Gilboa's fine wine, not in the high-priced pharmaceuticals that are only too easy for someone with money to find. Not even sleep is a safe haven anymore, filled with darkness and the worst possible imaginings. He woke up last night in a tangle of sweaty sheets, gasping for air and nearly choking on his pillowcase. In the bathroom, Jensen had splashed water on his face and looked up to see his reflection in the mirror, his face ragged and his eyes sunken and weary. The muscles in his face felt wasted, as if they were no longer capable of a smile or a laugh. Jensen wouldn't take the chance of falling asleep again and so ended up on the couch staring at nothing until the banging started.
Speaking of which, the apartment's gone quiet and still. Jensen sinks further into cushions and blankets, eyes tracking the fine particles of floating dust as they're caught by sunlight streaming between cracks in his blinds. But he's not left in silence for long. Soft clicks and turns, metallic scratches can be heard and only a moment later Jensen hears his front door swing open. Then, Jared's voice from somewhere above his head.
"This isn't really what I expected to find."
Jensen can't even muster an apathetic groan. Suddenly Jared's kneeling in front of him, finding Jensen's face in his cotton cocoon. There's no anger tinting his eyes; they're soft and understanding, slightly teasing as Jared never seems to lose his good humor.
"I thought you'd drowned in your shower, maybe run away somewhere exotic." He fixes Jensen with a harder gaze. "At least have some decent excuse for not answering my calls or not going to class last week."
"I'm sorry." Jensen's apology barely makes it past his blankets, but Jared scoffs.
"I didn't come for an apology." Jared shakes his head and it only makes Jensen want to apologize again. "I came because I was worried and I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"I'm fine."
Jared's not fooled for a second. Even after only knowing Jensen for a few weeks, he can see through Jensen's bullshit like no other, save Joshua.
"No, you're not."
Jensen closes his eyes and shifts back further trying to hide. Far enough to where he can't hear Jared's pity or disappointment. But cold air hits his face when Jared yanks off his top blanket.
"Hey!"
"No hiding. Get up-"
Not one to be ordered out of his misery, Jensen resists. He deserves it-deserves to be alone and depressed, and he doesn't want to be a weight around Jared's neck no matter how capable he looks of carrying the load. Or how willing he seems to be. So he shakes off Jared's hands when he tries to pull Jensen up.
"What the hell are you even doing here?" Jensen snaps, escaping from his nest and putting some distance between them.
Jared's too patient; he barely blinks at the tantrum. "I told you-"
"Yeah, 'the goodness of your heart,' I heard. You've seen me-I'm still alive-so you can go."
"I'm not going anywhere. You need-"
"I don't need anything! All my life I've had people telling me what I need, so don't start. Just leave me alone."
He doesn't stay to let Jared read the lie in his eyes, hurrying to the master bedroom. Jared's dangerous. Rather, the things Jensen sees when he looks at Jared are dangerous, when he feels things he shouldn't be able to. Hope-a future. Jared is a means of letting go and living his life and Jensen's been terrified of finding such a person. Cut loose from the strange comfort of constant misery, Jensen may never find his warm haven.
Of course, Jensen never counted on meeting someone like Jared Padalecki. He shadows Jensen into the bedroom before the door closes. Whatever energy got Jensen into the bedroom quickly seeps away, leaving him exhausted.
"Please, Jared. Just go."
"It's a little late for that."
Jensen can't decipher Jared's tone and he turns to catch the strangest look on his face. Resignation in his smile, but affection in his eyes.
"What are you talking about?"
"It's too late for me, Jensen," Jared steps up to him, closer than he's ever been. He scratches the back of his neck nervously. "You-well, the first time I saw you, I think it was all over for me."
There's a significant part of Jensen that wants to deny what Jared's talking about, but the deeper part-that small voice that still tells Jensen to get up in the morning when his body won't cooperate, sounding suspiciously like his mother telling him to live-desperately reaches out. Fighting that pull, Jensen sits back on the bed and isn't surprised when Jared settles next to him.
One thing Jensen can't deny is his attraction to Jared. He's been open and honest since the day they met, kind and funny as he tried over and over again to make Jensen laugh. Jared's looks definitely favor his Gathian heritage-something else he hasn't hid from Jensen-with his slightly darker complexion and narrow eyes, proud features that Jensen's often found himself getting lost in. And all the while they've been friends, learning about each other in bits and pieces, Jensen's tried to kill the attraction he feels. Jensen knows Jared would be good for him, and he wants, but he would be poison to someone so carefree and wonderful.
"What can you see in me?" Jensen questions softly, afraid of the answer.
"I see everything you let me," Jared says, "and it's more than I think you realize. I've seen the way you look at me and I never want you to stop. I see the way you fight with yourself when you want something, but you're so convinced that nothing good can happen for you. I see it all and I want to make you realize that it doesn't have to be that way."
"You shouldn't, Jared-" Jensen tries. "Everyone keeps their distance with me, and I've gotten so used to it. Joshua-my brother-was the only one who wouldn't leave me be and even he sent me away eventually."
"He didn't send you away, you know that," Jared argues quietly. "He wants the best for you, and so do I. And I'll tell you right now that I can be stubborn as a mule, so you can try your best to push me away, but it's not going to work. Unless you tell me honestly that you don't want me-"
"No," Jensen insists, not giving Jared the chance to finish that horrible thought. A little too late Jensen realizes that his hands are on Jared's thighs, kneading into the hard muscle under his wool pants. When he glances back up, Jared's looking at him and he gets no warning before Jared's arms are around him and they're falling back onto the mattress. Jensen wants to wriggle away, but Jared's whispering in his ear and his body gives up. He curls against Jared and just lets go. The dreams that dragged him out of bed become a far-distant memory as they lie together sharing the same pillow. It's a novel thing for Jensen to be held like this. Jared's all around him, in every direction he turns, and Jensen feels safe as he's completely enveloped.
The gentle kiss on the back of Jensen's neck where the skin is clammy and warm is less of a surprise than it should be. It's followed by second one laid right below Jensen's ear. Jensen tries to stay awake, but he falls asleep after the fourth press of lips lands on his temple.
When he wakes up much later still wrapped up with Jared, he wonders how many kisses he missed while he was asleep. And he makes a new vow never to miss another.
He's wearing orange. His silk tie is the color of the Western sunset, a sign that the members of the Premier's party are as committed to this peace treaty as Joshua and his advisers. Jensen can't take his eyes off him-a year and a half has given his boyfriend a stronger build and more angular face. He walks steadily towards Jensen and Joshua with the rest of the assembly from Gath and Jensen considers asking Helena to hold onto his suit coat so he doesn't dash across the foyer and embarrass himself. He only rethinks that plan when he realizes Helena would probably tie him to a column just to make sure.
Jensen remains a careful step behind his King as introductions are made and photos are taken to record this historic event. When Joshua beckons him forward, Jensen almost stumbles when his feet get tangled up with a photographer's and he nearly falls right back into his boyfriend's arms.
"My closest adviser and the Prince of Shiloh, Jensen Ackles," the King announces to the Gathian Premier and his followers. The stout, balding Premier then waves his own party forward but Jensen can't pay attention to any of the names. Helena can fill him in later.
"And this is my councilman, Jared Padalecki," the Premier makes his introduction. "Actually, he's the very man I've selected to become ambassador to Gilboa when this treaty is signed and in the books."
If Jensen wasn't so keyed up he would faint. He never thought to imagine that Jared could be remaining in Shiloh permanently...
Then Jared is directly in front of him, smiling and shaking Jensen's hand, lingering in the touch when they're meant to separate. Joshua clears his throat and breaks the moment, but his eyes flash-and on Jensen's brother, that's a dangerous expression.
"If you're agreeable, I think we must give our nations the peace they've long deserved," Joshua announces, and the Premier quickly agrees with a grin for the cameras. "After that, we'll be able to celebrate our achievement in grand fashion tonight, although I think my brother is eager to hammer out some details with your ambassador."
The joke is thankfully lost on everyone except Jensen and Jared, though Helena squeaks from somewhere behind them. Jensen wishes it were appropriate for him to smack the back of Joshua's head in front of the national press and half of Gath's most prominent politicians. It would be just Jensen's luck to cause an international incident on what should be the best day of his life.
"I'm agreeable to that," Jared adds with a smirk, and Jensen wonders if he shouldn't smack him as well. However he has no time to ponder that possibility as the entire group is led towards the Great Hall, Jared falling automatically into place at Jensen's side. Their fingers brush with every stride, and Jensen chances a quick squeeze of Jared's wrist.
"Welcome to Shiloh," Jensen says, all the familiar affection clear in his voice.
Leaning low so his response is kept between them, Jared whispers, "It already feels like home."
He's wearing orange. A vibrant shade of clementine that to the people of Shiloh has always represented perseverance and hope.
The next breath Jensen draws in feels wholly different from the last as if the air itself has changed. He's struck still in his seat in the small lecture hall, jolted out of his mental fog by more than six feet worth of smile and confidence that sits down next to him wearing a bright t-shirt under his plain gray sweatshirt.
"Hey." The man sticks out his hand and Jensen automatically shakes it without a word. "I'm glad I made it, I thought I was going to miss my first graduate seminar."
Jensen hadn't even noticed that his professor is already four slides into his presentation while Jensen's laptop screen is stuck on a blank page.
"I'm Jared, by the way."
"Jensen," he offers when Jared looks at him expectantly.
"Yeah, I sort of-well, I know who you are." It's a reaction Jensen's well used to, but he hopes his smile is genuine. Jared adds, "Is it alright if I sit here?"
Jensen nods, and anything else Jared could say is interrupted by their lecturer. He spends the entire seminar trying to tune everything and everyone out the way he's been doing for months now, but his eyes keep drifting to the way Jared's fingers move over his laptop keys. Jared catches him more than once, grinning and whispering whenever the lecturer covers something he doesn't agree with.
It feels like he's been asleep for months and everything is still hazy. But when Jared asks him to grab coffee at the end of their seminar, Jensen silently agrees and follows the bounce in Jared's step all the way to the nearest cafe. And in the middle of Jared's non-stop chatter, Jensen thinks that maybe it's time to wake up.
THE BEGINNING.
for jack who never got his happy ending.
Well, this was sort of an adventure to write! I saw a few episodes of Kings over the summer and LOVED it, especially Jack's storyline because it was more compelling to me than Michelle's. Then, this fall, I bought the DVDs and sort of mainlined them in a week. It was always in my head to write something based in that world, definitely something J2, and the story was always going to be about Jensen the Prince, and Jared the Gathian. Then, the story got lost amongst other ideas, and only when I checked out allopen's list of favorite TV shows did the idea come back and start sparking!
To allopen - I really hope you enjoy this, as it was a pleasure to write! May the rest of your holiday season be merry! And to everyone else, I hope y'all can appreciate this even if you've never seen Kings. I didn't delve deeply enough into the world to make it difficult, and who can't appreciate a story with Prince Jensen? Come on! And to annabeth_fics, this story would not have been finished, or been nearly as complete, without your help. I OWE YOU SOME SERIOUS NAKED!SAM. ♥