Chapter 1:Silent Angel, Go to Sleep

Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak
So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep

-"The Air That I Breathe" by The Hollies

It was a beautiful day. The sky was a clear blue extending for miles around as the sun smiled warmly upon the earth. There was a gentle breeze whispering through the trees. The earth was full of abundant green life brought on by spring. A perfect day. At least. it should have been perfect.

Dean paced back and forth along the riverside. Today he would assure peace between his kingdom and its largest neighboring country, Tenebrae. He couldn't afford to screw up today. Not only would it be bad for his country, but it would also reflect poorly upon him as a king.

Things should go smoothly though, considering that King Gordon and he had already come to an informal agreement. All that was left was to officiate it. Dean couldn't help the anxious knot in his gut though. Gordon wasn't exactly the most trustworthy type. Perhaps he would change his mind about the whole business… No, Dean wouldn't let that happen. He just had to calm down. Everything was going to be fine.

"Dean?" he whipped his head around to find his brother Sam looking sheepishly at him. Sam may have been over six feet tall, but sometimes he looked about as harmless as a kitten.

"Yeah, Sammy?" he replied, forcing a smile.

"They just arrived. They're waiting for you in the pavilion."

"Thanks, Sammy." Deep breath. Showtime.

Luckily for Dean, negotiations went off without a hitch. There were not enough words to describe how relieved he felt. He began to excuse himself before the other kind interrupted him.

"Just a minute, Dean. I haven't fully expressed my gratitude yet," the other man smiled smugly.

"There's no need-"

"Nonsense, boy," Dean bit his tongue at the words as Gordon continued, " I have a gift for you." He snapped his fingers, and a couple of his guards went off to fetch what Dean could only assume was his gift. He waited uncomfortably for their return, but kept a perfect poker face to hide his discomfort from Gordon.

When the guards did return, his heart nearly stopped. The two men grasped a slave between them. And not just any kind of slave- an angel. He had messy black hair, milky white skin, and beautiful black wings sprouting from his back. He was breathtaking. But also broken. There were numerous bruises and scars- some new, some old- his wings hung limply, his tattered robes dangled loosely on him, and his head remained bowed.

Dean clenched his jaw and willed himself to stay civil. This was supposed to be a gift? The mistreatment of an innocent creature?

"Do you like it?" Gordon asked in false sweetness. "I know you have no wife as of yet, so I brought this for you. Obviously, it would be ridiculous for you to marry such an abomination, but I figured it would be good enough start for a harem. Keep it as a concubine or a simple slave if you wish," he finished, folding his dark hands in his lap.

It was no secret that the king of Tenebrae dislike any and all nonhumans. He despised them, and made his views plain for all to see. Nobody except humans dared to live in his kingdom.

Dean on the other hand, treated them with no prejudice at all, and allowed them all to live in his kingdom so long as they upheld his rules. Gordon was mocking him by doing this, but Dean didn't dare refuse. He knew Gordon would probably use refusal as an excuse to break off their agreement, and he couldn't risk that.

Then of course, there was the angel. He absolutely would not condemn him to live- or die- in the hands of Gordon.

"Thank you," he managed to grind out, "I accept your...generous gift." He returned the other king's frosty smile.

Inwardly he was seething. He gave a curt nod to his brother who quickly gathered the near unconscious angel in his arms and left the pavilion. He hoped the poor thing would be able to recover.

"Enjoy yourself, your highness," Gordon sneered, collecting his entourage and leaving the meeting in a flurry.

Dean may have allied himself with Gordon for now, but that didn't keep him from wanting to bash his face in.

Castiel sat dumbfounded in the king's chambers. In less than a week he'd been dragged away from slavery in the eastern kingdom Tenebrae, handed over to be somebody's consort, and whisked off to the capital of Fortuna. All this commotion combined with his poor health was making him very dizzy.

He did like it in Fortuna though. So far he had been treated with nothing but kindness and compassion since he'd been handed over. Well, that plus some wonder and awestruck faces, but mostly the other stuff. Castiel's wounds were treated daily and the Fortunans made sure he was well fed and rested. And rest he did. He barely did anything else on his journey to the capital. The people here were very kind.

He especially enjoyed listening to Prince Samuel talk. Or Sam, as the prince had insisted he be called. Sam told him lots about the king because the king wasn't there to do it himself. Apparently he was away taking care of other business, but he would return to the city a week or so after Sam and Castiel returned. Castiel didn't mind though. He wasn't exactly excited to be bedded by the man. He had…experiences in Tenebrae that he wasn't willing to repeat.

He didn't have much choice in the matter though, did he? After all he was just a… what was he now? Was he still a slave, or was he the king's consort, or his bride? He had no idea. All he knew was that he belonged to the king.

"Don't worry," Sam's voice broke through his thoughts, "Dean really is a good guy. He'll treat you well. And if he doesn't, you just come tell me, and I'll knock some sense into him for you." he winked good naturedly, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room. Castiel smiled weakly in return. Sam couldn't help but notice what a nice change it made to the angel's normally weary face.

"Would you like a bath? I bet you would. I'll go fetch a servant to help you," he said, walking off to do just that. Castiel was eternally grateful for Sam. Dear Sam who informed him of anything important, who told him stories about his brother, who talked and cared for Castiel even though he'd never spoken a word in return. He hadn't even told Sam his name, but the man never pressed him for it, or anything else for that matter. Sam took good care of him. He almost wished that Sam was his new master instead. He could only hope the king would be as kind.

When the prince came back he brought a young woman with him and beckoned Castiel through another doorway. In the adjoining room the woman drew a bath for him, smiling gently at him every now and then. While she did this, Castiel took the time to look her over. She was a petite blonde with dark brown eyes that held some unspoken sort of fire. She seemed friendly enough as she prepared his bath, pouring in scented oil and flower petals. The smell was divine, but Castiel couldn't help but feel as though the luxury of such a bath was being wasted on a lowlife like himself.

"Do you need help changing?" Sam asked, looking gently at him. Castiel looked down at himself in indecision. He was still very weak from his years of servitude. Truth be told, it took all his strength just to stand. On the other hand, he didn't like being touched. In his experience touching usually involved beatings or worse.

Sam had noticed his dislike when the first had offered to help Castiel change the first time. The prince had reached out to help remove the tattered robes the angel was wearing, but Castiel had flinched so hard he withdrew his hand immediately. The poor angel wouldn't even take off his clothes himself, so instead Sam opted for simply draping his cloak over his shoulders.

Now he had no choice. It would be ridiculous to bathe in the rags he was wearing. In the end Castiel gave in and allowed Sam to help him, trembling all the while. He was completely exposed to Sam, as well as the serving woman who he glanced at warily.

Sam must have noticed because he said, "Maybe I should help him wash, Jo. You go ahead and see if your mother needs any help." She nodded and swished gracefully away. Castiel peeked up at Sam before hesitantly sinking into the bathtub.

He was instantly gratified by the hot, steamy water, letting out a satisfied sigh. It had been years since he'd had a proper bath. The most he got as a slave was a dunk in the river or a bucket of water over his head. To be soaking in heated water, flower petals, and to have real soap was heavenly.

Before he realized it he was asleep again. It took maybe ten seconds in the water for it to happen. Sam was really starting to worry about the angel falling asleep all the time. He was obviously in poor health, both mentally and physically, so he had a right to worry if the angel was going to last long. He hardly did anything except sleep, he barely ate, and he never made a sound. Well, except for some whimpering in his sleep or when someone touched him unexpectedly, but those were involuntary. He'd have to talk about it with Dean when he returned.

On the other hand, it would probably make washing the angel a lot easier if he were asleep. He wouldn't have to worry about scaring him or making him uncomfortable. Sam always felt like he was drowning in guilt when the angel pulled a face that would put a kicked puppy to shame. He imagined that face popping up if the angel were awake for the process. It did seem a little wrong to be touching the angel when he was unconscious...but he really didn't want to see that face. Hopefully the angel would forgive him. After all, it wasn't as if he was going to do anything bad. He was helping him out. And he really, really didn't want to see that face. Especially with those eyes...those insanely blue eyes. They were mesmerizing.

With that thought in mind he bent down beside the heavenly host to look more closely at his face. Even after his efforts the past few days to help the angel recover, he still looked malnourished. His skin was too pale- in fact it was borderline gray. And it hung off his bones like oversized clothes. Of course, that was only from what he could see underneath all the dirt. The poor creature was a mess. Dirt was so deeply engraved into his skin that Sam wasn't sure he could wash it out without waking him up. There were also spots that looked suspiciously like dried blood, which wouldn't really surprise him. When he'd helped the angel undress he'd been appalled at the abundant discoloring of his skin. There were bruises of every shape, size, and hue marking his body. It was no wonder why he preferred not to be touched.

Looking at him as he slept now though, he seemed much more at peace. At least more so than the first couple days. It was like every second the angel was afraid he'd been beaten. Not now though, amid scented oil and rose petals with the sun setting in an explosion of color to the west.

Sam washed the angel as carefully and gently as he could to keep that peaceful expression on his face for at least a while longer. Once he finished he carried the angel back to Dean's bed and tucked him beneath the covers, all done as carefully as possible. It turned out to be a little more challenging than he had anticipated, but despite the other's near weightlessness, his wings were a feature Sam had never had to deal with before. Fortunately the angel remained asleep throughout the whole ordeal, something for which Sam was eternally grateful, He didn't attempt to try and dress the angel, but he figured it would be okay for one night. He honestly wasn't up to figuring out how to maneuver clothes around those wings tonight.

Not that Sam didn't like his wings. He could barely take his eyes off of them. The feathers were mainly black, but at the bottom faded out to an almost transparent gray. Multiple feathers had been ripped out though, giving his wings the appearance of a half finished painting. Nonetheless, they were breathtaking.

The angels had been nearly wiped out about 20 years ago, so they'd become quite a rarity. Sam himself had never seen one before, but if all angels' wings were as beautiful as this one's then part of him could understand why they were so desired.

Absentmindedly, he reached out to stroke the black appendages. He froze when the angel let out a rather breathy- and dare he say sexy- moan. After a brief moment of indecision Sam repeated the motion to see if it would have the same effect. It did, and not only that, the other even leaned in to the touch. The prince reluctantly withdrew his hand at this newfound knowledge. Apparently angels were aroused by having their wings touched. Or at least this one was. He filed the information away for later. After all, if Dean didn't want the angel, Sam would be more than willing to take him off his hands. Needless to say, he was falling pretty hard for his brother's new gift. This could probably cause a lot of trouble in the future, but at the moment Sam couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

Instead he settled for placing a chaste kiss on the angel's forehead before taking his leave. As he walked out the door he glanced back one last time as the pale figure in the moonlight, smiling softly at the thought of seeing him tomorrow.

A/N: The title comes from 1st Corinthians 13:4-8. 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.