Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12870270.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Sam_Winchester/Original_Male_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternative_Universe_-_Kingdom, King_Dean, Prince_Sam, Arranged_Marriage,
      Rape
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-30 Completed: 2018-02-06 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 13270
****** The Blue Eyed Queen ******
by Winmance
Summary
     When the time has come for Prince Dean to become King, his father
     make every effort for him to find a wife, realizing the prophecy and
     assuring a prosperous future to their Kingdom at the same time.
     But soon, it becomes clear that Dean as no intention to take a wife,
     preferring the company of his little brother.
     The night before his coronation however, Dean takes a decision that
     while change both their life forever.
Notes
     Thanks to twizted_dezirez who beta this work
***** Chapter 1 *****
The day of the first Winchester’s son birth, all the kingdoms came to
celebrate. From the Caliphate Kingdom across the ocean, to the Saris Kingdom
behind the mountains.
For one straight week, they celebrated the birth of the future heir. They
brought presents, food, and gold. They congratulated the King and the Queen,
wishing prosperity to the child and for the prophecy to come true.
The Great Oracle predicted that a young prince would come. He would be
beautiful and brave, fierce and powerful, and he would defeat the demons,
conquer every country and reign fearlessly. His reign would be successful,
thanks to the love of his other-half, the blue-eyed Queen.
The day of the second Winchester’s son birth, no one came. There was no
celebration, no happiness, no prediction. The baby was too small, too pale, and
not vivid enough. His eyes were closed, and for two weeks, they stayed that
way. Mary, exhausted from the difficult birth and angry at herself for the
monster she putted in this world, refused to touch the little one. John,
shameful of his new born, lost himself in the arms of another woman.
But not the Prince. For an unknown reason, Dean was completely devoted to his
brother, soul and body, getting up in the night so he could help feed him,
ordering for his brother to sleep in his room, next to his bed. No one dared to
tell him no, knowing that the baby won’t survive the winter.
Dean spent hours caressing his brother’s eyelids, murmuring reassuring words,
promising that if he lived, if he opened his eyes, if he proved them all wrong,
he would protect him against everything and anyone.
Twenties days after his birth, Samuel Winchester opened his eyes, his gaze
dipped in his brother’s.
“Hey Sammy,” Dean whispered, a bright smile on his face, “You’ve got beautiful
eyes.”
They didn’t do any celebration for him, but there was no need too, his
brother’s joy compensating for the others.
 
 
The two princes grow up closer than anyone had anticipated, much to the King's
disarray. Dean was everything the prophecy promised. He was nice, strong,
brave, fair and beautiful. At 13, he was already bringing everyone’s stare on
him, his green eyes and charming smile made him irresistible. But he never gave
him a second glance, too busy making sure that his little brother was as happy
as he could get.
They were playing in the durst, running and laughing, before Dean finally
caught him, blocking his body with his legs around his torso, his fingers
tickling him viciously.
“S-Stop” Sam yelled, tears running on his face from laughing too much
“Please!” 
“Who’s the smartest prince of the earth?”
“Y-You”
“Who’s the bravest prince?”
“Dad,” He screamed louder when Dean started tickling his armpits. “You!” He
yelled again
“And who’s the most beautiful prince?”
“You,” This one was said without any laughter, only Sam’s smile and admirative
eyes.
Dean smiled too, his fingers now in his brother’s hair.
“We can share this one Sammy.”
He dropped a kiss on his brother’s forehead, taking his time savoring the
feeling of the skin against his lips, not aware that their father was watching
them from the window, an awful feeling in his stomach.
“I don’t like that,” He whispered, through clenched teeth.
“They’re children my King,” Master Singer said, watching the two princes
laughing.
“No. Samuel is a child. Dean is eight years away from becoming King, and he’s
running on the dust like some pork.”
“What do you want to do my lord?”
John sighs, his eyes fixed on his sons.
“You’ll take Samuel and teach him how to read, the history of our kingdom and
of the others. Anything that will put him away from the prince.” The king
looked as Dean stole an apple and gave it to his brother, inclining himself
respectfully in front of him. “Send a message to the other kingdoms. All the
princesses with blue eyes will be promised to him until he’s old enough to
choose.”
“Yes, my lord”
 
 
 
The princes’ relationship took another turn when Sam was twelve.
He was supposed to reorganize the library with Master Singer, but he
successfully pretended a headache before sneaking up in the stable. Dean was
already waiting for him, their horses ready to go.
They rode to a river, as far away of the castle that they could. It was
peaceful, not a sound except for their horses occasionally neighing. Dean took
his boots off first, enjoying the feeling of the grass under his feet.
“You want to take a swim?”
“I don’t know Dean. The future King, swimming in the river?”
“Well, if someone sees me, I will say that I was just saving my dumb little
brother.”
“Yeah because I’m not hated enough in the kingdom already,” He laughs while
taking his jacket off.
“Why did you say that?”
“What?”
“Why did you say that the kingdom hates you?”
Sam bit his lips, realizing that his brother was upset.
“I... It’s my fault, mother and father hate each other. They barely can’t stay
in the same room anymore. It’s my fault, and everyone knows that.”
Dean looked at him for a long moment before closing the distance between them,
taking his brother in his arms. It’s been long, so long since they done that.
They couldn’t seem to find time to spend together, one of them always busy, and
the fact that Dean was getting closer and closer to 21 wasn’t making things
easy. In five years, he will have to take a wife, and officially become King.
“I don’t want to lose you,” He whispered in his brother’s ear.
Dean patted him away a little, his hand brushing his hair away. He closed the
distance between their lips. It was sweet kiss, with too much teeth, too much
saliva, but neither of them cared. 
“What about the blue-eyed Queen?” Sam was panting, his naked torso pressed
against his brother’s.
“I don’t believe in prophecy.”
Sam didn’t have time to say something else, to tell his brother that he should
believe it because he was everything the prophecy had said he would be. His
brother’s lips were already crashing against his, making him forget the entire
kingdom.
 
 
Two years later, they lost their virginity to each other in Dean’s room, the
guards pretending not to hear a thing, and the servants washing away the traces
of come and oil without any words. They all knew that Prince Dean was destined
to reign, to bring them joy and happiness. If he wanted to have fun with his
little brother, it was his own business and no one else’s.
 
 
 
The day of Dean’s 21 birthday, everyone came to celebrate the future King, the
other kingdoms bringing their daughters for him to choose. The throne will be
his in less than three days, and there wasn’t a father who didn’t put his
daughter in front of him, begging him to marry her.
The table in the Great Hall had been dressed, ready to welcome all the nobles.
The cooks had been working for several days on the food, cooking the King and
Prince boar hunt. The whole room was illuminated by several candles, the two
principals lighting the King’s and Queen’s chair. Dean was seated next to their
father, while Sam was placed next to their mother.
 “Look at all those girls, ready for you to take.” Sam hissed in his ear while
they were saluting the new entrants. “Which one will you choose?”
“The most beautiful, of course.”
“And who is that?”
“You, dear brother. Got to make an honest woman out of you.”
Sam punched him in the ribs before bursting into laughter, his smile making
Dean feel dizzy. He won’t get married. Not in five years, not in ten, and
certainly not this year. Sam owned his heart and soul, and he refused to give
it to anyone else, even if it was just pretending.
“King Edward, here’s my sons, the Prince Dean and the Prince Samuel”
“My Lord,” They both said, inclining their heads respectfully.
“It’s an honor to finally meet you, my Prince. I’ve heard a lot of good things
about you.” The King took Dean’s hand in his, holding him a little too tight to
his liking.
“I’m glad to meet you, too. Have you heard of my brother as well?” Their father
gave him a disapproving look, but he ignored it, focusing only on the other
King.
“Oh yes, of course. Pardon me.” He turned forward Sam, taking his hand, “It’s a
pleasure to meet you Prince Samuel”
The King walked away quickly, obviously ashamed, which only made Dean smile.
“I don’t want to see this happen again Dean. Are we clear?” John whispered, his
cold eyes fixed on his son.
“Of course, Father.”
“King Edward brought his daughter, Ariana, with him for you to meet.”
“Like half of the people who are here.”
This earned him another hard look, but he couldn’t care less. King or not, Sam
deserved as much as respect as he does. Not less.
The next man who was presented to them was the Baron Mark. He was older than
their father, and it was clearly written on his face. His eyes were dark,
surrounded by hairy eyebrows, giving him a cruel look. A sword had left a scar
stretching from the bottom of the right cheekbone, running towards the top of
the nose and ending on his left nostrils, still red, even after all those
years. He lives far away, close to the mountains, and for reasons unknown to
Dean, he never had been invited in their castle.  The way he looked at Sam made
Dean shiver, and he placed his hand on his brother back, bringing him closer to
him despite his father’s cold eyes.
“I’m really glad to meet you, Prince Samuel.” The Count said, his tiny lips
forming a mischievous smile. You’re even more beautiful than what is said about
you.”
“I… Thank you, Baron Mark. It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”
The old man gave Sam another languorous stare, with something that couldn’t be
seen as anything other than lust. Dean felt his blood burning, his hand holding
Sam firmly against him. Girls had looked at his brother before, boys even, but
never so intensely, with so much lust, or if they did, never in front of Dean.
The rumors were running fast in the castle, faster than anywhere else. When you
live in a house full of domestics and guards, every one of your movements is
known by everyone. The Princes relationship wasn’t a secret, not for the
“little people” like their father called them. Sometimes, Dean even suspect his
father knowing, but he never said anything about it.
They greeted a few more people before sitting at the table, Dean’s contenders
all reunited next to him. Some of them were beautiful, glorious even, dressing
in their most fancy clothes, their hair tied above their heads in what Dean
could only guess was a painful hair bun. But none of them were as beautiful as
Ariana. Her delicate dress flows from top to bottom, the fine corset of it
covering her stomach where the continuous flow is broken up by a thin ribbon
worn fairly high around her waist. All the eyes were starting at her, the men
full of lust and women of jealousy. All of them, except for the Prince. His
stare was glued to his little brother, and more precisely to the man next to
him, who was looking at Sam like he was a piece of meat.
“My lord, I think the Princess is talking to you.” Master Singer whispered in
his ear.
“Forgive me, my lady.” He gave her his most charming smile, hoping that it
would be enough.
She returned his smile before repeating herself again, moving her body so her
generous breast was all but exposed to him. He saw Sam looking at him for the
corner of his eyes and automatically smile at him, ignoring the princess once
again.
She may be beautiful and charming, but she would never be compared to his
Sammy. It wasn’t about how he looked, it was much more than that. It was about
his soul, his bright, shinning soul. He could see it when Sam was taking care
of his horse, how he would help everyone, his own need always coming last. But
most of all, it was his smile. Even during the worst days, when his father made
him train from the sunrise to the sunset, one smile from his Sammy and
everything was right again.
“What will you do, once your brother’s reign begins?” The baron asked to Sam.
“He will stay here, with me.” Dean hastened to say, mistrustful of him.
“You’re not planning on getting married?” He asked to Sam, completely ignoring
Dean.
“I’m not.” Sam replied, trying to stay calm even though his body was completely
tense. “Master Singer needs me in the library.”
“Such a beautiful boy, confined between old books and an even older man.”
“Master Singer is a really respectful man.” The older Prince said, “And I
actually don’t think he’s much older than you.”
“Dean,” The king’s rough voice made both men close their mouths immediately, “I
think that if the Baron has an offer to make, it will be good to hear it.”
“An offer?” Dean replies, ignoring the awful smile on the Baron lips. “Sam is a
17-year-old Prince, not a cow.”
“Samuel is old enough to get married.” His father replied, taking a bite of
food in his mouth. “When your wife comes to live with you, you will enjoy being
alone with her.”
“I won’t be taking a wife.”
His statement was followed by a cold silence, excepted for his mother’s
gasping. He could see his father’s face passing from white to bright red, his
fist clenched on the table.
“What did you say?”
“I won’t be taking a wife.” He repeats firmly, trying not to look to his
brother.
“And may we know why?”
“Because I… The prophecy talks about a true love. I don’t want to marry someone
without being completely sure that she’s the one.”
It wasn’t near what he wanted to say, not near the true neither, but it was the
best thing he could have said. His father lets out a loud breath, before
bursting into laugh, followed by the entire table. Dean wasn’t sure what they
were laughing about, but he wasn’t keen on finding out.
 
The rest of the dinner passed without any major incident. The count didn’t
attempt anything else, and Dean made the effort to talk to all the princesses.
He’s never been this happy to get inside his room. Quiet. That’s all he wanted.
He took off his heavy clothes, letting them fall on the floor. Usually, there
would be servants helping him, but he dismissed them for the night.
His brother was already here, waiting for him, eyes glue to the windows.
The sun had already gone down, but they didn’t need any light to see their
land, having spent days running on it, studding it, and soon, reigning on it.
Six strong, square towers from a protective barrier all around the castle,
connected by low, firm walls made of brown stone. Statues of kings are lined up
outside of the castle gates, serving as reminders of the past, of the victory
and the loss. Every King had his own statues, from the Great Henri to their
father, and soon, Dean’s would be there too, brighter than the others, witness
of his power and his position.
“I will make a statue of you.” He whispered in his brother’s ear, arms sliding
around his waist. “I will place you right next to me, so no one will ever
forget about you. You’ll be remembered, now and forever, next to me. The two
Winchester Kings.”
“You should probably make a statue of your wife instead of me, brother, after
all, she’s the one who would save us all.”
“No, she won’t.”
“How can you be so sure?” There was doubt in his brother’s voice, and he
intended on dismissing every bit of it.
“Because she won’t be my true love.” He kissed his brother’s neck, his hand
sliding in his brother’s pants. “She won’t be you.”
 “God, Dean…” He whispered, turning around and pressing their lips against each
other.
His hands moved under his brother’s clothes, caressing the body he knows so
well. He pushed him on his big bed, his glorious naked body embalming by the
animal skin blankets. He stares at him for a long moment, admiring him. He
feels guilty, sometimes, for doing that. He was supposed to be the one true
king, to bring joy to his people thanks to his successful weeding. Instead of
that, he gave his heart to the one man he could never marry.
But looking at his little brother here, spread out on his bed, ready to give
himself for him, he couldn’t care less.
“Would you like to make me yours, my king?”
“I don’t know, my Prince.” He said, his hand squeezing his brother’s ass,
making Sam moan. “Don’t you think we should wait until we’re married?”
“Then we will both die from blue balls, my king.”
They both laughed, Dean’s head placed on his neck, dropping several kisses. Sam
put his legs around his waist, pulling their bodies closer.
“We can’t risk that, can we?” Dean asked, putting oil on his dick with his free
hand, while his lips were celled around his brother’s nipple.
“No, my lord. We should think about the wellbeing of the kingdom. What would
happen if their king died?” He lets out a long sigh as Dean enters in him
slowly, his mouth clenching against his shoulder.
“Nothing could, I’m afraid.”
He started to give him long and deep thrusts, each one of them punctuated by a
kiss. Dean couldn’t stop touching him, from his hair to his hips, his eyes
never leaving him, his trust only getting stronger and faster before he came,
filling Sam up.
It wasn’t always like that, wasn’t always so sweet and loving, but right now,
that’s what they both needed.
“In three days, you will be King.” Sam whispered, still panting.
Dean moved around so he could lay next to him, before pulling his brother’s in
his arms, his head resting on his chest.
“In three days, we will be Kings.”
***** Chapter 2 *****
“Samuel, didn’t I ask you to help me find the mythologic book Lord Tully has
asked for?” Master Singer asked, arms crossed against his chest.
“Once my brother is King, I will ask him to send you far, far away.” Sam said,
closing the book he was reading. “Then you won’t be such a tormentor.”
“You will miss me in less than two hours, my Lord.” The old man replies,
smiling despise himself.
“In less than that even,” He smiled before walking toward the stairs.
The library of their kingdom was the biggest library of all, full of old and
new books, from science to old civilization, all the knowledge of the world
rallied in one, big structure. But this came with a price, and Master Singer
and the Prince were the one to pay it. Cleaning, organizing, rewriting, and all
those things that were making Sam’s life so annoying.
Sam went to the archives, his way lit by the torches he just burned. No one
ever goes into the archives except him, even Master Singer doesn’t go anymore.
Last time he did, he fell on the stairs and hurt his back so badly that he had
to stay put in bed for several days. The archives were dark, full of dust and
old things, but more than anything they were long. Several walls and rooms,
which made it easy to get lost. There were rumors about people dying in here
because they couldn’t find their way back, and even if Sam was sure they
weren’t true, he couldn’t help but hate the place.
Sometimes though, Dean would meet him in there, and they would have sex right
here, pressed against the wall, on the table, or even on the floor itself.
Sam smiled at the memories, navigating between the rooms without any troubles.
He stopped in front of the shelves, bending over to find the damn book. He
heard someone walking behind him and he smiled, waiting for his brother’s
touch.
Soon, a hand was putted on his ass, squeezing it throw his pants. He turned
around, and froze immediately, holding back a scream. Instead of his brother,
he found Baron Mark, smiling at him with his awful teeth.
“I can understand why your brother doesn’t want you away from him. You’ve got a
really firm ass here.”
Sam felt a wave of disgust going through him, but it quickly faded away when he
realized what the man had just said.
“Our future King wants me to be able to choose my spouse, based on what I want
and not what the other wants.”
“That’s a respectful way of thinking,” He got closer to Sam, forcing his back
to hit the shelves. “But I think you may need a little… Motivation, to know
what you want.”
“I know exactly what I want, and it’s not some old man waiting for me in dark
room.” He could feel the Baron’s breath against his skin, but he didn’t shiver,
didn’t lower his voice. “There’s plenty of guards, all around and inside the
castle, who’s only mission is to protect me. Because in case you forget, I’m
the prince, not some whore.”
He tried to push the Baron away, but the man was quicker and put his whole body
on him. Sam wasn’t tall, and even if Master Singer kept telling him that he
would be taller than his brother, it still hasn’t happened, which means that
the old man had an advantage on him. He could probably throw Sam away like he
was made of feathers.
“You will be whatever I say you are, pretty boy.” He took one of Sam’s hands
and placed it on his groin, making him feels his hard on. “You provoked this,
you need to take care of it now.” His fingers traced Sam’s lips, despite Sam
trying to pull his head away. “You’ve got a pretty mouth. We should put it to
work, don’t you think?”
“If we put it to work, I can assure you that you’ll not be a man anymore after.
Not that you are very much of one now.” He bit hard on the Baron’s finger,
making him scream in pain, before shoving him away.
He ran to the stairs, his heart beating faster than it ever did. He kept
looking back, trying to see if the man was following him, but was cut in his
run when he hits someone.
“Samuel!” His father yelled after almost falling.
“S-Sorry your grace.”
“Why were you running?”
“I…” He hesitated a moment, not sure of what he should tell his father. If he
told Dean, his brother would kill the Baron with his bare hands. But maybe his
father could be reasonable, and send the Baron away without causing any
trouble. “The Baron Mark he… He tried to…” His face was feeling hot and his
voice was trembling, which only served to annoy his father. “He tried to rape
me.”
His father seemed surprised for a moment, looking at him with questioning eyes,
but it quickly went away, replaced by his usual angry stare.
“What did you do?”
“I push him away and ran.”
He didn’t really understand why it was important, shouldn’t his father be
asking about what the Baron had done?
Whatever was the reason, the King seemed satisfied.
“I will take care of it.” Sam nods, already walking so he could get back to
Dean but his father stopped him, holding his forearms. “Do not talk about this
to your brother. His coronation is in less than two days, he’s already got a
lot on his mind.”
It sounds more like a threat than advice, but Sam agrees. Dean was already
stressed, he didn’t want to aggravate the situation. His father was taking care
of the problem, everything was good. He will tell Dean after the ceremony.
 
 
 
 
“You can go change, my lord.” Master Singer told him, placing a hand on his
shoulder. “You sure could use some distraction before tonight’s dinner.”
“I forgot about the dinner.” Sam sighs, closing the book he had been reading.
“You think if I pretend a headache I could escape it?”
“If you asked your brother, probably. But you’re a terrible liar, the King will
immediately see that you’re lying.”
“You always believed me”
Master Singer laughed, shaking his head “No, I just know that you’re too much
of a pain when you’re forced to stay here.” He took the book from the table,
his head moving a little closer to Sam. “You should go now, and enjoy some time
off with Prince Dean. He sure could use it too.”
Sam blushed, which only made the man laugh, before running to the stairs.
Robert Singer has always been more a father to him than his actual father,
always being nice and available for him, which is why, when he surprised them
in a compromising situation, he didn’t say anything. After that, he did have a
conversation with Sam, but only for asking him if it was a consenting
situation, and Sam couldn’t remember someone carrying about him this much apart
from his brother.
He tried to get to his brother’s door, but was stopped by the guards, who
placed themselves in front of it.
“Prince Dean doesn’t want anything to interrupt him.”
“Yeah but this rule doesn’t apply to me.” He smiled, trying to reach the door
again but was confronted by the same problem.
“Prince Dean expressly said that this rule was applied to you, too.”
Sam frowns, looking at the closed door like it would magically opened itself.
Dean never forbade him anything, less alone entering his room. Even if he had,
he would have told him beforehand and gave him a reason.
He walked to his own room, ignoring the worrying feeling that was rising in his
chest. His brother needs privacy, that was understandable. He was in place to
become King of the most powerful kingdom, while dealing in the same time with
their parents request for him to find a wife before his coronation. There was
not a lot of situations that could be more stressful.
He collapsed on his bed, deciding that a nap was more than welcome after the
event of the day. He still could feel the Baron’s hands on him, the taste of
blood when he bit him, and just thinking about it sent a wave of nausea through
his body.
Instead of thinking about the awful man, he decided to let his mind navigate
between memories. He closed his eyes, trying to project his brother in front of
him, to imagine the feel of his skin against his hands, the softness of his
hair, the sound of his laugh, his voice, how his arms contracted with every
movement, the freckles that were creating a whole universe on his body and
face, a universe that no one but him was allowed to see.
Before he knew it, he was asleep, taken away by his lover’s vision.
 
 
 
“Hello, my lord.” Sam whispered in his brother’s ear, one of his hand finding
his way to his ass.
They were alone in front of the gates, the crow waiting for them to enter the
room. It was custom for the heir King to enter the Great Hall after everyone
else, so they could all see their future leader.
Instead of leaning in the embrace, his brother moved away, putting some
distance between them under the interrogative eyes of Sam.
“Dean?”
“You should get inside.” He replied coldly, not even looking at him.
“But we… Didn’t we say we were entering together?” His voice was way weaker
than he intended it to be, but he couldn’t care less.
Since the day they had known about this custom, it was clear for them that they
would make their entrance together, two kings reigning on the Kingdom.
“We said a lot of things.”
“Dean, I- I don’t understand.” He put his hand on his brother’s arms, trying to
get his attention, but his brother shoved him away.
“Just get inside. Father is waiting to make some announcements.”
Sam entered the room, not without one last look to his brother. He will need to
talk to Dean after, to figure out what was going on. He couldn’t help but feel
hurt not to enter the room with him. It was their dream, they had imagined this
over and over, creating scenarios, from the craziest to the most plausible.
Sam’s favorite was the one where he enters the room with his brother’s arm
around his waist, under their parent’s horrified eyes, before Dean declared his
love for him and kissed him senseless.
He froze when he saw that the Baron Mark was sitting next to his own seat. He
looked at his father, trying to get his attention, but he obviously ignored
him.
Heart beating rapid, he took his seat, sitting on the very edge of the chair.
His father had promised him to take care of it, why is the Baron still here?
And more than anything, next to him?
“Happy to see you again, pretty boy,” The old man whispered in his ear. His
breath smelled awful, and Sam felt a new wave of nausea going through him.
“The pleasure is not shared, unfortunately.”
 “Oh, it will be, soon.”
“What do you mean?” Sam asked, frowning.
“You will see, pretty boy.”
Sam didn’t have time to ask anything else because his brother was entering the
room, making everyone stand up.
He was glorious, carrying the colors of their family and their blazon. He’s
probably suffering from the numerous layers they put on him, but even if he is,
it’s unreadable, even for Sam. What is not, however, is the cold look he gave
his brother. Sam tried to give him a tiny smile, but it came out more like a
grimace. His brother didn’t seem to care, though, since his eyes were already
gone.
Not even five minutes later, their father stood up, asking for silence. Sam
froze when he felt a hand on his thigh. He tried to push it away, but the Baron
was holding him too tight for him to move. He discreetly took his fork, hitting
the man’s hand with it. He finally was able to concentrate on his father’s
words. 
“- And it’s with an immense pleasure that I’m announcing to you the union of
the Prince Dean, from the Winchester house, and the princess Arianna from the
Revell house.”
As the whole crowd cheered, congratulations coming from every side, Sam’s heart
stopped beating. No. Dean couldn’t get married. He promised that he will never,
ever marry anyone. He was Sam’s. No one else but Sam’s. He was gonna get up to
talk to his brother when his mother put her hand on his shoulder, making him
sit again. He was so shocked by the gesture that he couldn’t do anything else
but sit. He couldn’t even remember the last time his mother had touched him, or
acknowledged him in any way.
“Since a good piece of news never comes alone, I am also pleased to announce
the union of my second son, Samuel, and the Baron Mark.”
At this moment, Sam’s whole world come crashing down.
He felt the old man sliding his arm around his waist before putting his mouth
on his ear.
“I told you that you would be mine, pretty boy.”
 
 
 
Sam was allotted twenty minutes before he was leaving his home. Apparently, the
Baron asked for Sam to come to his place immediately, and their father, as much
as Dean, had agreed.
Because the worst of all wasn’t that he was marrying by force to a hateful and
disgusting man, while the love of his life was marrying a princess, no, the
worst of all was that his said lover was the one who suggested this union in
the first place.
Sam practically run to his brother’s room, drumming against the close door,
until his brother opened it.
“What do you want?” Dean asked, his voice sounding so much like their dad’s
that it made Sam hack.
“Why?” Was all he could ask, and he hoped it was enough for Dean to understand.
“Why what? Why do I marry a beautiful, glorious princess? Or why are you
engaged to the Baron Mark?”
“Why are you doing this to me?” Tears were already forming in his eyes, but he
did his best not to let them fall.
“I guess I never loved you.”
“Yes, you did.” His throat was tight, and he couldn’t hold the tears anymore.
“You do, Dean. We love each other. Always have. Why… Why are you doing this?”
“We never did Samuel. I thought we did, but I was wrong.” He stepped inside his
room, ready to close the door, “Go to your husband. He must be waiting for
you.”
“Dean, please, I’m begging you, don’t do that.” His face was a mess, ravaging
by the tears, but it didn’t matter. At each word that Dean was saying, he felt
his heart breaking a little bit more. “I love you. I love you!” He yelled.
“You don’t.” His brother replied before closing the door, leaving him broken on
the other side.
 
 
 
 
 
The ride to the Baron’s castle was probably the longest moment of Sam’s life.
The man didn’t do small talk, to that Sam was more grateful, but he did pass
the entire ride with his hand on Sam’s knee, despite Sam pushing it away
numerous times.
Sam didn’t know how long they rode, the weather was too cold and too dark for
him to even see the sun. The castle was circled by a dense forest, and a vast
gate with massive metal doors set up. Sam didn’t acknowledge the structure of
the castle more than that. All he knows, it’s that it’s cold, dark, and not his
home.
The Baron guided him inside a room, and Sam recognized it immediately. It was
the ceremony room. There were already several people in it, just the right
amount to a wedding.
“What… What are we doing?”
The Baron sighed, rolling his eyes. “Think a little, dumbass. What are you here
for?”
“But we… No, there’s rules. We got to… We can’t get married like that.”
“Listen darling, you’re here to satisfy me, not to think. We’re getting married
tonight, whether you want it or not.”
Sam closed his mouth, trying not to let the words hurt him. He wasn’t really
loved in his castle, but no one had ever talked to him like that. He was a
prince, and more than that, he was nice. And smart. Whatever the man was
thinking.
The priest married them in a hurry, not even carrying that the Baron’s hand was
holding Sam’s arm to the point of hurting when it was his turn to agree to the
weeding, or when tears start forming in his eyes.
Somewhere in the naïve part of Sam’s brain, he had hoped that the wedding would
have happened after several weeks, that maybe, Dean would come and save him,
accusing a dark sortilege for his action. He also hoped that their wedding
night wouldn’t happen.
He was wrong about everything.
The Baron had dipped a hole in the back of his pants before pushing him on the
bed, mounting him without any prep, any sweet words and any caring. Sam had
yelled, fought and cried before stopping, too tired to do anything else but
take. Sex had always been something he loved. It was the moment where Dean and
he were one, where his brother was showing him all his love, worshipping his
body and soul like he was God’s incarnation. It burned a little the first time,
but nothing insurmountable, nothing that his brother didn’t dismiss with a
kiss.
When the Baron kissed him, he bit his lips so hard that blood came out.
“I was right, you did have a great ass.” The Baron laughed, slapping Sam
cheeks. “You’re not sleeping in my bed, though. I need sleep and I can’t listen
to your cry all night. Marcel will guide you to your room.”
Sam tried to reassemble all the courage he had left in him, getting up of the
bed without saying anything. There wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t
hurting him, and he wasn’t surprised to find blood on the bed, which didn’t
seem to concern the Baron.
He never felt so ashamed, so used and dirty than at this moment, sweat, come,
and blood coming out of him. He was grateful that his body didn’t react to this
abuse, not sure that he could have taken the humiliation.
Marcel, the Baron domestic, guided him to his room.
The room was tiny and dark, covered in cobwebs, an old bed lying in the corner.
“I’m sorry, I… This look like a dungeon.” He told the man, hoping that it was a
mistake.
“The Baron asked for you to sleep here, my lord.”
The domestic left, closing the massive door after him.
 
 
 
Sam’s life with his husband only got worse. He wasn’t allowed to get out of the
castle, the only interaction he had was with his husband or with Marcel. He
tried to stand for himself, fighting the Baron every time the occasion was
there. He ended up with more bruises and broken bones than he thought was
possible, and quickly stopped protesting. The Baron used him as he wanted,
coming to his room in the middle of the night, taking him in his sleep, before
leaving him shaking, disgusted, and in pain.
The last part didn’t bother him that much, though. Every time the Baron raped
him, beat him, insulted him, he was comforting himself by the fact that there’s
so much a body can take, that sure, soon enough, the Baron will go a little too
hard on him and he will be out of this hell.
He thought about his brother. A lot. Sometimes, he would imagine his brother
coming, rescuing him. Sometimes, Dean was lying next to him, holding him while
he cried, promising him that he would never, ever, let that happened again.
Most of the time, he was telling him that he was useless, nothing but a hole to
fuck, stupid, unwanted, disgusting. All the words that the Baron was throwing
in his face every day. The worst of all was when he was imagining his brother
telling him that he never loved him, because this one was true.
“We will get going tomorrow morning, before the sun rise.” The Baron said while
eating.
“Where?” Sam wasn’t eating. The Baron refused to spend quality food on him. He
didn’t care, wasn’t able to eat even if he had been allowed. His jaw had been
broken several weeks ago, and it was still hurting him to open his mouth.  
“You know, little slut, there’s only so much stupidity a man can take.” His
husband sighed, scrubbing his eyes. “Your brother. The King, is getting
married.”
Sam nodded, not letting his emotions show up. With everything that happened, he
didn’t think that he would be going to his brother’s wedding. God, he had hoped
that he wasn’t going to see him. Not only is the fact that seeing his brother
marry someone was awful, but it also means that Dean will see him, will see how
ugly he had become.
The Baron seemed to read his mind, and only laughed before eating again, a
piece of meat going out of his mouth.
This night, after the Baron came, Sam cried even harder than at his weeding
night.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     A really, really big thanks to NaturallyGolden, who helped me with
     this story and beta this last part. You're a true sweetheart
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The ride to the Winchester’s castle was long and trying, the snow making it
hard for the horses to walk and forcing them to stop regularly.  It left them
in the dark forest, and even with the guards, Sam didn’t feel safe.
He didn’t sleep much at all.  His mind kept drifting between the animal sounds,
the Baron’s snoring, the cold, and the need to be near his brother again.
He was torn between hate and love towards Dean. He couldn’t understand why Dean
would have done that to him. Why, for the love of God, would he give him away
like some livestock to this awful man? He wants Dean to see the results of his
actions. He wants him to see how badly hurt Sam is, how he broke his brother,
without any reasons, any discussions. He wants to see the pain in Dean’s face
when he realizes what he has done.
But what if Dean sees it all, and doesn’t react? What if he’s happy? Or
indifferent? He can’t tell what would be the worse. He wants Dean to still care
about him. He needs Dean to still care about him. Otherwise, Dean won’t be able
to suffer, and right now, that’s the only thing Sam wants.
“Whore, we’re moving!” The Baron kicks him in the ribs to get him up, at which
Sam clenched his teeth. He was still sore from the beating three nights ago and
the lack of food certainly doesn’t help his recovery.
They resumed their journey, getting closer to the castle, and Sam’s mind got
lost in memories of Dean and him on this very same road. It seemed like it was
only yesterday, when he was happy and naïve, trusting his brother with all his
heart. They used to laugh and ride their horses together here, promising
endless love and sharing stolen kisses.
He hates that. Hates that even now, even after all of this, Dean is still his
happy place. But as much as he hates his brother, as much as he hurts him, he
can’t stop loving him, not entirely. He hates himself, in this moment, more
than he hates Dean.
 
 
 
The Winchester’s land is nothing like Sam remembers. They always had glorious
land, the golden sun feeding the earth for half a year, and the white snow
restoring it the other half. Now though, all the trees are not only frozen, but
dead. A thick fog is covering the entire area, and the horses have trouble
knowing where to walk. Sam holds back his tears, wondering what could have
happened to their once beautiful land.
They decided to stop the carriage and finish their journey by walking, their
feet sinking in the deep snow.
Sam’s heart was tapping against his chest, the fear of seeing Dean again, of
facing his father and mother. He wonders if they thought about him sometimes.
They were never close, but he's still their son, that’s got to mean something,
doesn’t it?
His father is standing in front of the castle. He’s not King anymore, but he
still looks the same, with his proud posture and his cold eyes. His mother is
standing there too, next to his father, a blank expression on her face.
Numerous times, Sam heard people telling stories about how beautiful his mother
used to be, how proud and bright she was. They said that when she brought him
into this world, her soul escaped at the same time. Sam never doubted the truth
of that story.
The King is here too. But he doesn’t look anything like the Dean from before he
left. He’s more muscular, taller, his beard has grown out, and his once
shinning eyes are now as cold as his father’s.
His future bride is standing next to him, and she’s the only who welcomes him
with a smile. He pities her a little. She doesn’t know in what she's gotten
herself into.
“Your majesty,” His husband said, inclining himself in front of Dean. “It’s a
pleasure to see you again.”
“The pleasure is shared.”
Sam shivers when he hears Dean’s voice and his legs start shaking, threatening
to make him fall to the ground at any moment.
It is his turn to be welcoming, and he stands awkwardly in front of his
brother, the man he once thought was the love of his life. He had planned on
looking Dean right in the eye, to show him what he had done, how he suffers,
but he can’t bring himself to hold his head up, his eyes glued to the ground.
“Your majesty,” He whispers. He should say something else, tell him he’s glad
to see him again, because he is, in a sort of way, but nothing can come out of
his mouth, even the air has trouble navigating in his throat. So, he doesn’t
say anything else, and neither does the King.
“It’s really great to meet you, Prince Samuel. I heard a lot of good things
about you.” The princess says, smiling widely. She didn’t hear a damn thing
about him. If she did, she wouldn’t be smiling at him. She wouldn’t be marrying
the King either.
“Me too, my lady.” 
They were guided inside the castle and to their room.
The Baron and he never shared a bed. He would come into his room, do his
business, and leave. Sam was more than happy about that, couldn’t imagine what
he would be like to sleep with this man, in his arms. But no one knew about it,
and when they enter the room, his body freezes completely when he faces the
single bed.
He knows that they won’t sleep together. The Baron is disgusted by him, only
seeing him as a dirty object to be used. He was more afraid about not knowing
where he would sleep. Will the Baron ask for another room? Or for a bed? It
wasn’t that uncommon, Sam could remember guests asking for another bed to be
put in their room, and no one ever said anything about it. He hopes that is
what will happen now.
It was weird, being in his castle again. There were so many memories here, so
many broken promises. He spent his whole life here and never though he would
live somewhere else. They were in the guest quarters, which means that his room
was another floor, next to his brother’s.
“Could I… Could I go to see Master Singer?” He asked his husband, fearing the
answer. The Baron hates when he speaks and finds his voice too annoying. But
it’s been so long since he saw a familiar face, one that doesn’t show hate or
disgust. He just needed someone to notice him, talk to him again.
“No.” It was the only answer he got, and he knows better than to say anything
else.
He was left alone in their room for the rest of the afternoon. He had no idea
where the baron was, and he couldn’t care less. All that mattered was that he
was alone, which means that no one was here to hurt him. Guards had been placed
in front of his room, but it was more to prevent him from running away than
protection.
He had tried, once, back at their place. Waited until the entire castle was
asleep before opening his door and running as quiet and fast as he could.
He didn’t even get to the stairs before someone caught him and dragged him to
his husband's room, no matter how hard he cried and begged. The Baron laughed
before beating him until he passed out. Since then, guards were placed in front
of his bedroom, day and night.
He was glad when dinner was brought to him, a hot, rich meal for no one else
but him. He tried to eat slow, not wanting to be sick, but it had been so long
since he had a proper meal that he couldn’t contain his excitement. The food
was so good, even better than he remembered it. The Baron only gave him food
once a day, and it was far from nutritious.
When the night came, his husband enters the room, smelling like cheap perfumes
and alcohol. He was probably at the whorehouse, and he sighed in relief. He
won’t have to do anything tonight.
“You’re sleeping on the floor. I don’t even want you in here.”
Sam nodded in agreement before taking one of the pillows and curling in a
corner. It was humiliating. He used to be a Prince, slept in beautiful and soft
sheets, warmed by Dean’s body.
He thought about his brother before closing his eyes. He was only one floor
away, curling in his bed, probably not aware of Sam’s misery. Or maybe he was.
Either way, in Sam's head, he was here, with him, spooning him like he used to
do.
 
 
 
The next day, they met up with his family in front of the castle. Everyone was
here but the future Princess, who was too caught up in the last minute
preparations to come. Apparently, his father and husband had spent some time
together the day before, and his father wanted to show him some of the horses
they just got in. Of course, if someone had to be friends with his rapist, it
would be his father.
Dean was here too, glancing at Sam every time he thought no one was looking.
Was he admiring his own work? Looking at how broken, ugly, and useless Sam had
become?
If he was, his face wasn’t showing it at all. On the contrary, Sam could see
hurt and pain on his face, but he couldn’t understand why.
Rapidly, Sam started walking behind them all, his legs having trouble carrying
him. No one seemed to care, too caught up in the discussion about which horse
was the best for travelling, which led into stories about war and adventures.
Dean used to tell him stories too, at night. He would talk for hours, insisting
on each and every detail depending on Sam’s mood. If Sam was happy, he would
tell him the story about the time their father fell in slush and couldn’t get
out, which leads to several knights falling too while trying to help him. If he
was feeling sad, he would tell him a light story about rescued animals, which
he knew never fails to make him smile. But most of the time, he was telling
stories about them, memories or predictions.
Sam stopped immediately when he reached the stable. In front of him, was his
horse, even more beautiful than when he left. Someone must had been taking care
of her, and the idea that it may have been the Princess made his jaw clench,
which caused him pain because it was still healing.
He opened the door and let her walk to him, making it easy to hug her.
“Hey baby” He whispers, caressing the white horse “I’ve missed you, you know.”
Tears start forming in his eyes. He used to take care of his horse every day,
no matter what. It was a birthday present from Dean one year: he had the white
horse while Dean had the dark one. They were from the same litter, and each one
got a mark of the other color on the side of their bodies.
He kept caressing and kissing the animal, enjoying the warm feeling of love
that was coming from her. He wishes he was able to take her with him. But what
would he do with her? He wasn’t allowed to leave the castle, and no one would
take care of her. Here, someone apparently cared enough to keep her clean.
He was put out of his thoughts when the Baron came and stood next to him,
making his whole body immediately go rigid. He couldn’t stand the man being
this close to him, his disgusting smell was making him sick.
“Let’s see what we’ve got here,” He says, pushing Sam away from the horse.
He didn’t push him strongly, but Sam was so exhausted by the walking and by the
emotions that he all but collapsed on the stable floor. He yelled in pain when
his abused body got hurt once again, which caused the horse to panic. The Baron
was inspecting her mouth and when she closed it, he only got a moment before
the teeth sunk into his skin. Luckily, that was enough for him to react and
pull his hand away.
“Fucking horse.” He said, face red with anger. He took his sword off
immediately, lifting it in the air, ready to kill the animal.
Sam had his arms around her neck immediately, ignoring the pain as much as he
could.
“Don’t!” He begged, using the horse to maintain his upright position, “Please,
she didn’t do it on purpose. It was my fault.”
“Of course, it was your fault, doesn’t change anything. She’s a threat.” He
turned to the former king who nodded.
“But she didn’t do anything!”
“Stop arguing,” His voice leaves no place for a discussion, but Sam couldn’t
move. No, he refused for his horse to die because of him. That won’t happen.
“Move or I cut your arms too!”
When Sam didn’t move, the Baron sighs and lifts his sword again. He would do
it, would cut his arms without even feeling guilty about it, because that’s how
he was. Sam knows that, and he closed his eyes strongly, hiding his head on the
horse’s mane. If he was lucky, maybe his head will be cut too.
But the sword never came, and when Sam opened his eyes again, Dean had his own
sword against the Baron’s, preventing him to move.
“My father is not the King anymore. I am. If you want to do something, you need
to ask me, not him. And I refuse your request to kill my horse.”
The Baron looked humiliated, and his eyes were full of anger, but he nodded and
put his sword away. He looked at Sam directly in the eyes, jaw clenched. He was
going to pay for it tonight, but he didn’t care. His horse was alive. Thanks to
Dean.
Why in earth his brother would want to save his horse after he’d thrown Sam
into this monster's arms?
His father put his arm around the Baron’s shoulders, inviting him to walk
again.
Slowly, Sam let go of his horse, now sure her life wasn’t in danger anymore.
“You’re ok?” Dean asked, making him jump. He wasn’t expecting his brother to
still be there, let alone talking to him.
“I… Yeah, I’m good.” That was a lie, he was anything but ok.
Dean nodded before leaving him in a hurry. Sam couldn’t understand what just
happened. Why had Dean seemed to care? Was he just playing with him? There
wasn’t a single reason for him to act like that. Not anymore.
 
 
 
 
 
 
“You humiliated me in front of the King,” The Baron said, the belt coming
brutally against Sam’s back “In front of the entire royal family,” He gave him
another lash. “For a fucking horse!”
His back felt like it was on fire, he could feel the blood running down it. He
had a piece of tissue in his mouth to suppress his screams, but it wasn’t
enough. It was hurting him so badly, he wished he could just die, right here,
right now.
The Baron threw the belt on the bed before giving kicking Sam in the ribs
again, making him fall to the floor.
“I swear if I could, I would just kill you right now.”
Do it. Please just do it. His mind was shouting, begging for him to do it, but
he remained silent. The Baron spit on him before leaving the room without
another word. Sam took a big breath. The worst was still to come.
He pushed the tears away rapidly before all but crawling to the corner of the
room. He needed to clean up the wounds, but he was too tired to get up, let
alone take a bath. He would do that later, right now, he just needed to sleep a
little.
 
 
 
 
 
Dead. That was the only word that came to Dean’s mind when he saw Sam. He must
have lost half his weight, his poor little legs having trouble supporting him.
He was pale, so very pale.  For a moment, Dean was brought back to the moments
right after Sam was born, when everyone thought he wasn’t going to make it. His
hair had changed too, it was longer, but not bright and shiny like it used to
be. He seemed to have lost some of it, and he’d sworn that when he was climbing
the stairs, he saw a patch of hair missing from his head. But that wasn’t the
worst thing.   No, the worst was how his brother looked. How he looked to the
floor and how weak he appeared.
The Baron, on the other hand, looked as mean and disgusting that the last time
he saw him. He cannot understand what his brother found attractive in him. The
man doesn’t seem to love him, hell, he was ready to cut his arms off just
because of a horse. That wasn’t love. But again, what does Dean know about
love?
“My King?” Ariana asked, her delicate hand caressing his shoulder.
“Pardon me, my lady, I was…dreaming.”
“Of me, I hope?” She gave him a fond smile and his heart twisted. No, he wasn’t
dreaming of her. He would never dream of her. But she was nice and beautiful,
and in less than a day, she would be his wife.
“Who else would I dream about?”
He respectfully kissed the back of her hand, to which she blushed slightly. She
was a lovely girl, but it was obvious that she didn’t love him either. She may
have liked him, but she wasn’t in love. She was playing her part in the game
because of what her kingdom expected of her. He wonders if she had dreamt of a
loving marriage with someone she truly loved, or if she was ok without all
that.
He didn’t ask. What was the point? She would lie anyway. They all lie.
He felt obligated to focus on something else. He was a king now and he has many
responsibilities. One of them is the well being of his people, and right now,
they are all but good. He fears that a sickness is invading his land. First,
there was the thick fog, then all the crops and plants start to die.  Even now,
some animals were starting to die too, without any reason.
Master Singer was intensely focused on conducting research to try to find a
solution to the problem, but was so far unsuccessful. If Sam was on the case,
he would have already found it. Hell, he probably would have known what it was
right from the beginning.
“Are you close to your brother?” She asked, sitting on the empty chair next to
him.
He flinched at the question. Had she heard something? People in this kingdom
always talked too much.
“No. Not at all, actually. Why?”
“I…” She bit her lower lip, unable to hide her nervousness “I heard…something.
From the maid who is taking care of your brother's room and I… I thought you
should know. Maybe. I don’t… I don’t know, actually.”
“There are a lot of things that are said in this castle. You shouldn’t believe
every one of them.”
“I know but this one… I fear it’s true. And if it is, I can’t keep it to
myself.”
She looked really concerned, which made Dean frown. It wasn’t about himself and
Sam, otherwise she wouldn’t be looking at him like that. This was something
else entirely.
“Tell me then”
“I…they said that the Baron Mark is… hurting Prince Samuel.”
“What do you mean hurting?”
“Punishing him, physically. The maid came into their room to help Prince Samuel
change. He had bruises and blood all over his body and she told the others.”
She continues talking, but Dean wasn’t listening to her. He couldn’t let Sam
get hurt, whatever the reason may be. He would kill the Baron with his bare
hands if he had to in order to protect him.
He burst out of the room and ran towards the one where his brother was resting.
“Is the Baron here?” he asked the guards.
“No, my lord. He left an hour ago.”
“Prince Samuel?”
“He’s still here, my lord.”
“Good. Don’t let anyone else in.”
The guards nodded respectfully before letting him in.
The room reeked of a mix of alcohol, cheap perfume, sweat and blood. He
grimaced and started searching for his brother, but couldn’t find him. He saw a
pillow in the corner of the room and couldn’t understand why.  That is, until
he saw blood on the floor. His own blood ran cold as he imagined Sam sleeping
there, bleeding and cold.
He opened the door again, making the guards jump.
“He’s not in there!” He said angrily to the guards, “Aren’t you supposed to
look after him?”
“We shifted our watch and we… I will ask the other guards, my lord.”
The man all but runs and returns quickly. He was panting, and his face was red,
but Dean couldn’t care less.
“He’s in the bathroom, my lord.”
“How come you didn’t know?”
“The other guards didn’t tell us. But there are guards watching him there,
too.”
The King swore before walking to the common bathroom again. He didn’t bother
asking them any questions before bursting into the room.
He stopped breathing as soon as he closed the door.
Sam was here, completely naked, and if Dean thought he looked dead before, it
was nothing compared to now.
He couldn't see any skin that wasn’t covered by bruises, open wounds, or blood.
He was skeletal, every one of his ribs was visible. He looked so weak, so
fragile, that Dean tore his eyes away, unable to stand it.
“You used to find me beautiful.” Sam said, his voice sounding like a small
child. “I… I can’t blame you. I can’t even look at myself either.”
He let out a little laugh, but Dean didn’t respond. He couldn’t say anything.
“I… I will go back to my room.”
Sam started to put his clothes on, even if it was pretty obvious he still
hadn’t taken his bath. He passed by Dean and the king finally reacted. He took
Sam by the arm, which wasn’t a good idea since Sam went into defense mode
immediately, his other arm covering his head.
“Sammy…” The name tasted bad in his mouth.
Sam peered at him, expecting him to say something or do something, but he
didn’t know what he should do.
He wanted to hug Sam. Wanted to hide somewhere with him and never come back. He
didn’t care about the crown or the prophecy, he simply needed Sam.
“You did this,” Sam says, voice cold “You did this to me.”
“No, I didn’t I… you betrayed me.” They faced each other with Sam's blue eyes
boring right into Dean’s soul. “I trusted you, more than anyone or anything. I
loved you, and you betrayed me.”
“What are you talking about? You’re the one who sent me away with that
monster.”
“Because it’s what you wanted!”
“No, it’s not!”
They were both yelling, which caused the guards to enter the room in a burst.
“Your majesty?”
“It’s ok, leave us!”
They do as he says, leaving the brothers alone once again. Dean can’t
understand why Sam would keep lying, even now? What does he want? Is it some
sick game to toy with his emotions?
They glared at one another for a long time.  Eventually, they sat on the floor
side by side, emotionally exhausted from fighting. It kinds felt like old
times, when everything was simple, but it’s not anymore. They are not the same
people and never will be again.
“Father told you that, didn’t he?” Sam asked, as he looked at the floor
directly in front of him.
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Dean closed his eyes, forcing the memories of that day to come back. For the
past months, he did everything he could to push them away, burying them as deep
as possible.
“I…he came to me. He said that he saw you with the Baron. He said that you were
in love, that you wanted to marry him – “
“And you believed him?” Sam cut him off incredulously.
“No, I didn’t.” He swallowed hard and drew a deep breath. “He said that he
heard you telling the Baron to meet you in the archives. So, I went, and you
were there. Pressed against him, touching him.” He shook his head, trying to
get the image out of his mind. “I didn’t stay. I went up to the library
instead. I couldn’t believe it. I…I thought I didn’t see it right. I wanted to
talk to you, but he said that you would deny everything. I didn’t care. I
trusted you and knew there must be a reason why you were doing that. But
then…then Master Singer came. He told me that it was true. That…you were in
love with him. But, most devastating of all, you were not in love with me and
never had been. He said that you told him that I was abusing you, forcing you
into a relationship. That you told him that you were waiting for me to become
King, so you could get rid of me, since I planned on making you King too.” He
pushed away the tears that were running on his face. “We never told anyone,
about becoming Kings together, but he knew. So, I… God, Sam. I was so hurt and
so angry. Father said that I could put you in jail, that I should put you in
jail. I couldn’t, though, couldn’t do that to you even after everything. I
agreed to the wedding with the Baron, and that was it.”
Sam began to cry and Dean's heart broke even more. Sam wasn’t in a loving
marriage, whatever happened between he and his husband was enough to destroy
all the love that was between them apparently.
“I can arrest him, if you want.” Dean said without thinking, “I will find
something against him.”
“Dean, I…that's not what happened.” Sam cried even harder, his whole body
shaking. “I…the Baron was waiting for me in the archives. He…he started
touching me, but I didn’t want it. He forced me, but I wasn't responding, and I
shoved him away. I swear I did Dean. And then…then I ran into father, and I
told him. He said he would take care of it – “
“He told me that you were meeting before it happened.”
“Yes, I know but…but I think…I think they had everything planned. Because
nothing that had been said is true, Dean. The Baron trapped me, and then I told
father and I wanted to see you, but he said that I shouldn’t stress you out
more, that he would take care of it and…everything happened so fast but Dean, I
never, ever wanted that. I tried to tell you, but you refused to listen,
wouldn't even talk to me when you swore you'll always protect me”
No. He couldn’t believe that. He refused to believe that. Because if it’s true,
it meant that he gave his baby brother over to a monster, that he was the one
who betrayed Sam, who had caused him to be abused and raped. He can’t be that
person. He won’t survive being that person who was so callous and weak-minded.
“No. No. They… they wouldn’t do that. Maybe dad, but Master Singer loves you
like his own son.”
“You don’t believe me?” Sam gazed at him with his big, beautiful eyes, full of
tears. There’s no joy or happiness in them anymore, nothing but sadness and
pain.
“I… I don’t want to believe you Sam. Because that means…that means that I’m the
monster who betrayed your trust. It is unforgiveable and henious.”
“I won’t argue with that. After years of loving one another, you turned your
back on me with even bothering to try to talk to me. You turned me away when I
begged you to be reasonable. You sold me to a pervert that beat me, raped me
daily, and starved me half to death. And you never once even reached out to me
after I left. Even seeing the condition I arrived here in, you refused to reach
out. So how much did you truly ever love me? Because I would have never given
up on you so easily and condemned you to a fate worse than death.”
 
They don’t say anything after that, both simply trying to process what they
just transpired.
Sam can’t believe everyone he ever loved betrayed him. His father… God, his
father trapped him and he completely fell for it. If he was thinking, he would
have gone to see Dean immediately. The fact that Master Singer participated in
the plan might hurt the most. They were close, so close, and Sam loved him more
than anyone in the world besides Dean.  He told him secrets he told no one else
and he turned around and used everything against him.
Dean hands started cupping his cheeks, brushing the tears away. He is too
exhausted to protest, so he just lets his brother attempt to comfort him.
He can’t believe that all those months, Dean thought he had betrayed him and
was in love with another man. It baffled him that his brother believed he was
capable of such atrocities. He guessed he should be grateful that his brother
didn’t send him to jail, but let him marry the man that he thought he loved
instead. But he was not feeling particularly gracious at the moment. 
Incarceration may have been preferably, considering how filthy and hopeless he
felt every second of every day.
“I feel dirty.” He whispered, his voice trembling. “I… I feel so dirty. I can…I
can feel him. Everywhere…”
Dean closed his eyes again and couldn’t bring himself to visualize what that
meant, the implication behind those words. Sam needed his big brother right
now, nothing else.
“Let’s get you in the bath.”
Sam nodded but didn’t move. Dean knows he has to tread lightly, so he removed
Sam clothes off as slowly as he could.
“Shh, it’s ok Sammy, just getting you in the bath,” He whispered when Sam start
trembling.
Sam’s back was full of deep wounds and Dean did his best not to hurt him when
he set him inside the tub. The water wasn’t hot anymore, but it is still
lukewarm at least which is enough for Dean under the circumstances.
He started washing him, letting the water run down his back, washing away the
dried dirt and blood. Sam had stopped crying, but his body was completely
rigid, staring at his hands with dead eyes. Dean was doing his best not to
break down, to be strong enough for Sam. The worst was still to come, he
doesn’t know what will happen, what Sam wants him to do, but they’ll need to
act fast.
Once he was done washing him, he slowly lifted him out of the tub, holding him
just a bit longer than he intended.
“Sam, we need to talk about what to do next.” He spoke softly, pulling close on
his brother's weak body.
“I want to sleep.”
Dean nodded before putting his arms behind Sam, letting him hold on him for
support. They walked slowly to Dean’s room after dismissing the guards, having
to stop several times because Sam was too tired to keep moving.
He laid him on his bed, covering his body with several blankets, desperately
trying to keep him from shaking.
“Can you stay?” Sam whispered, “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course,”
He hesitated a moment before gathering Sam in his arms, holding him close. He
was relieved when Sam sighed and melted into the embrace. They stayed silent
for a moment, just listening to each other breathe. Dean started caressing
Sam’s hand when he heard him start crying again. He was the cause of this and
he had no idea how he would ever make it right. He didn’t deserve to be
forgiven for causing the love of his life so much pain.
“I… I don’t want to go back with him.”
“That wasn’t even an option.”
“I want them to suffer, Dean. All of them.”
“I will make them suffer.” He promised, kissing his brother’s hair. “I’m sorry,
Sam. So sorry… I hope that I can earn your forgiveness one day.”
“I… I just…”
“Sleep,” He cut him off, holding him a little closer. “Doesn’t have to be
today, nor tomorrow, nor in a month or in a year. Just…someday, iif you can
find it in your heart. Even considering it is more than I deserve, but I hope
one day you can give me another chance to love you like you deserve. If you
want to.”
“Are you still…will your wedding to Ariana still happen?”
Dean thought about it for a moment. It would be hard to cancel the wedding the
day before the nuptials, but he would do whatever it takes to make things
right.
“No. She won’t.”
Sam sighed in relief that the master plan had ultimately failed.  At least he
could come back to the only home he’d ever known and maybe re-establish a
relationship with his brother one day.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“For conspiracy against the royal family, we condemn you, Baron Marks, to a
sentence of death.”
Sam stood proudly next to the King, his ex-husband on his knees in front of
them. The Baron’s face was swollen from the beating inflicted by both Dean and
him. It felt good, being able to hurt the other man, but it wasn’t enough. He
wasn’t sure that seeing the man dead would resolve everything, but it would
help ease his mind.
“Master Singer, are condemned to life imprisonment and are sentenced to stay in
the castle dungeon.”
Master Singer nodded, aware of how lucky he truly was. He should have been
condemned to death too, but Sam had refused. It wasn’t a gift, it was far from
it.  Living a life in jail was worse than anything, and soon, Master Singer
would see that.
The former king had been sent far away into the mountains, and no one
questioned it, not after seeing the older man stare once Dean took care of him.
“It’s over Sammy.” Dean whispered in his ear, one of his arms wrapped around
his waist.
“Thank you,”
They smiled at each other before watching the Baron lose his head.
 
 
 
 
 
 
“My King,” Master Singer said from the other side of the jail, inclining
respectfully.
“Why?” Sam asked, arms crossed against his chest. “My father did this because
he hated me. The Baron did this because he was a sadist. But you? I can’t
understand why.”
Master Singer sighed “I… Your father promised me some part of the land and
money if I did it. Death, if I didn’t. I… I was weak. I thought that you were
going to talk to King Dean, before the dinner. I thought, you would talk, and
everything would be clear. But you didn’t and then… It was too late. I tried to
send you a letter, after, to tell you everything. But your father intercepted
it. I should have talk to your brother, I should be I… He said he would kill me
if I did, and I was too scared to do anything” He looked him in the eye, and
Sam could see all the guilt laid bare. Not that he cared. “I’m so sorry. I
never… I am so sorry.”
“So am I”
Sam left, ignoring Master Singer cried for forgivness. He admired this man his
whole life, thought of him as a father, only to be betrayed and thrown away
like he was trash. Master Singer appeared genuinely sorry, but Sam was pretty
sure he was sorrier about his own fate than Sam’s.
He entered the royal suite only to find his brother looking out the window, a
soft smile on his face.
“Hello, majesty,” Sam whispered standing next to him.
“Hello, my king.” Dean answered, still looking outside. The thick fog was
completely gone, the flowers and trees were beautiful again. In truth, the
kingdom had never been this beautiful and prosperous. Ariana was long gone,
only half disappointed by the news of the canceled wedding.
Sam was crowned king three days after Dean found out the truth, two weeks
before the Baron's death.
It was the two of them again, even if they weren’t the same anymore.
Sam was still broken, still able to feel the Baron's hands on him, the scars
that he left on his body becoming a part of him.  Sam refused to forget what
happened, but knew he had to heal to move forward.  He was not open to becoming
lovers again, but he accepted Dean’s pleas to at least be friends. Over time,
they rebuilt trust and re-established their brotherly bond.
Eventually, he forgave Dean, but it took time. The first two months, he was so
full of rage that no one could talk to him or touch him, let alone Dean. The
next several months, he kept crying, begging Dean to put him out of his
misery.  But Dean refused to give up on him and patiently took whatever he was
willing to give.  He encouraged him and always let him know that he wouldn’t
always feel so depressed and hopeless.  Dean worked on himself too, knowing he
needed to become a better man to deserve his brother’s love (if he ever decided
to give it again).
It took a lot of work over the last year, but life had improved for the both of
them. Things were better now, he was better, they were better.
“Did he tell you what you wanted?”
“Yes, I think.”
Dean turned around, holding him in his arms. He gently placed some of Sam’s
hair behind his ear, admiring his brother. He had finally gained weight back
and his hair was healthy and shiny again , much to Dean's relief.
He wasn’t screaming at night either, begging for the Baron to stop hurting him,
to leave him alone. These were the worst moments, having Sam pushing him away
and knowing that he’d caused it all with his lack of faith in their love.
“I’m proud of you,” He whispered, his forehead pressed against Sam’s.
Sam smiled, his lips brushing against Dean’s. “Show me” He said tentatively.
Dean laughed before giving him a long and sweet kiss, tasting the inside of his
mouth for the first time in a long time. Rapidly, the kiss became more intense,
deeper, until both of them were panting. Sam pulled away, face red.
“What about the blue-eyed queen?” He asked, biting his lips.
“Well, you always did have beautiful blue eyes, Sammy.”
 
Chapter End Notes
     Hey, sorry for the waiting, I hope you all enjoyed this story,
     It was really hard for me to work on it. I was beyond nervous about
     posting this last part, and I recieved a lot of nasty comments so I
     wasn't gonna published the last part, but thanks to a lot of you who
     left positives comments, I changed my mind and, well, here the last
     part. So Thanks a lot for all the nice and lovely comments you left !
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