Chapter Text
Dean’s fiance is cold and quiet.
Everything about the arrangements had been strange. The paperwork between the two kingdoms was legitimate at least- the documents had been poured over with a fine tooth comb before anything was signed. Dean supposes that the other land being occupied with war on their other borders meant cutting corners in other areas, even politically advantageous marriage alliances apparently.
The youngest prince had arrived mid-morning, only accompanied by a couple of guards that had escorted him from his former home. The few crates of items that had been sent ahead of the other prince’s arrival were already situated in what would be their married chambers. Dean had moved his things in a few days ago under duress from his mother.
The engagement had been a surprise to him- not necessarily that it was happening, but the speed at which things were moving between their two countries.
He’s come to greet the visitors, expecting at least a small retinue or a few people to oversee the legality.
The only ones he finds are two guards, and the drawn, wan omega prince- Castiel- between them. The first thing Dean notices are the prince’s eyes when he glances up at him for a moment. The second is how exhausted he seems, like he hadn’t slept in days. Castiel still holds himself up like all nobles are taught to, but Dean can tell he’s likely only upright from his own pride.
Dean tunes back in to what his father is saying just in time to offer a shallow bow in thanks to the guards before they leave. One of them grins knowingly at him before giving his fiance a lecherous once over as he turns to go. The omega prince twitches slightly as the guards turn. Dean is sure that in a less trained person, it would have been a full body shudder of revulsion.
He steps forward, holding out a hand.
“Hey, I’ll show you to your room for the next couple days.”
Castiel stares at his hand for a moment, a terrible resignation on his face for the slightest moment before he smooths his expression over and takes Dean’s hand.
He’s silent as they walk through the halls. Dean chatters nervously, pointing out rooms as they pass or the history of the castle.
Finally they reach the guest hall where Castiel will be staying for a couple nights before the ceremony.
Dean pushes the door open.
“This is you for now. The uh- our future chambers are setup and we’ll be able to move in officially after the ceremony.” He shifts awkwardly, stepping into the room and tapping the spelled crystal to turn the lights on.
Castiel follows after, quietly looking around. He lingers at the bed, touching the solid frame lightly.
“Any questions? Feel free to ask.” Dean encourages him. “I’m sure it must be strange coming here.”
Castiel looks at him speculatively.
“How would you like me to service you?” His voice is low and rough. Dean blinks at him.
“I don’t… understand.”
“Where would you like to put your cock?” He asks bluntly.
Dean sputters, inhaling awkwardly enough to cause a coughing fit. When it eases up, he blinks through watery eyes at his fiance.
“What?”
Castiel just sighs and reaches up to unhook his cloak. To be polite, he steps forward and takes Castiel’s cloak to hang on by the door. The edges are dirty and fraying. Dean frowns. Why would they send a prince, even the youngest, in worn clothing? When he turns back around, he lets out an undignified yelp and slaps his hands over his eyes.
“Put- please put your clothes back on.” Dean turns away until he hears the rustling of cloth being picked up from where the other prince had simply dropped his robes to the floor at his feet. “I, uh, I don’t know how people feel about nudity in your lands, but around here you don’t, um. Do that. At least not in front of someone who’s not your mate or something.”
Dean peeks between his fingers and turns around. Castiel hasn’t actually put his robes back on, but is holding them up enough to be mostly covered.
“You are to be my mate or something.” He says flatly.
“Right. But-”
“Am I displeasing?”
“What? No, that’s not-”
“I know I do not smell the most appealing with the offerings the guards took on our travels, but I can wash up if that would be better.”
Dean holds up a hand, lost.
“Hang on.”
Castiel reaches a hand out and takes his. Dean blinks. Castiel squints at him.
“Let’s just. Sit down for a second. I think there’s been some kind of miscommunication.”
He uses the hand Castiel is holding to pull them over to sit on the bed. The omega is still holding up his robes awkwardly. When they sit, Dean is suddenly aware that the other man is trembling, the faint scent of his fear just barely in the air.
“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” Dean tries to assure him. Castiel is staring at where their hands meet. “I just want to understand what you think is happening here.”
“You’re an alpha. We’re in a bedchamber.” Castiel says blankly. “I am expecting what always happens.”
Dean clears his throat awkwardly.
“I- we’re not going to have sex. At least not until after the formal ceremony, if you’re okay with it.”
Castiel has a slightly baffled look on his face that Dean doesn’t like very much.
“Why did you think you would smell bad because of your guards? Everyone smells a bit after traveling.”
“Alphas don’t tend to like it when you smell like another alpha.”
Before Dean can continue, there’s a quick knock on the door before a maid pokes her head in.
“There you are, your highnesses. Dinner will be ready shortly.”
“Thanks. We’ll be down in a bit.” Dean tells her. She nods with a smile and ducks back out into the hall.
Dean turns back to continue talking, only to find that Castiel’s shaking has gotten worse. The robes slips from his fingers and fall to his lap. The bottom drops out of Dean’s stomach.
“Cas, who did that to you?”
His torso is covered with bruises at various stages of healing. Castiel glances down briefly, before looking at Dean with a puzzled expression.
“I don’t understand.”
“Did someone beat you? Were you robbed?” Dean barely holds himself back from invading the omega’s space to examine him.
“You mean the marks from corrections and offerings taken?” Castiel’s hand touches one of the dark bruises. He inhales sharply. “You’re upset.”
“Yeah, I’m upset! Where were your guards to keep you safe?”
“The guards who accompanied me were the ones to administer the corrections if I was not behaving and were given permission to take offerings on our travels as compensation for their time.”
Dean has to focus very hard to keep his scent and expression as neutral as possible.
“They hit you.” He says steadily. Castiel nods. “And took... offerings. Can you... explain what that means?”
“They are both important alphas, so they were allowed to have me as they wished on the road.”
“Have you… how.” Dean asks. Castiel looks at him as if he’s stupid.
“Sexually.” He says flatly.
“And did you… want them to?” Dean asks carefully.
The other prince’s face shutters.
“I am to do my duty and know my place.” He says stiffly.
“Right.” Dean takes a deep breath.
Going to the door, he steps out into the hall and waves down the first guard he sees.
“Yes, Prince Dean?”
“Two things- first, take a message to Benny that the two guards that accompanied Prince Castiel here are to be apprehended and brought to the castle as fast as possible. They are staying at an inn in town, he can take as many men are necessary to catch them before they leave. Second, go to the healers rooms and have them set up a private room. I will be down shortly. Got it?”
The guard nods and hurries off down the hall. Dean watches him go, working to calm himself before he turns back into Castiel’s chambers.
The omega prince is sitting where he left him on the bed. He shouldn’t have to stay in his tattered clothes. Dean detours to one of the large trunks that had been dropped off prior to his arrival.
He opens the latches, expecting to find either personal items of the prince’s or clothing.
The sudden stench of omega fear both old and fresh makes him flinch. The trunk is full of neatly sorted items of leather and metal. Straps and buckles clink against each other as Dean lifts one up to look at it. It looks almost like a bit for a horse, with an odd flat segment sticking out of the metal. A quiet, choked off noise from behind him makes him turn.
Castiel is on the floor by the bed, shaking, plastered against the bedframe. His face is stricken as he stares at Dean’s hands. Silent tears slowly make their way down his pale cheeks.
“What is this?” Dean asks, holding up the device. Castiel flinches and he quickly lowers it back down.
“Correctional items.” He chokes out.
Dean drops the object back into the trunk with a clatter. Castiel whimpers behind him. He carefully shifts through a few, trying to figure out what the other prince means. A sick feeling swoops through his stomach when he finds a neatly coiled, well crafted whip in the box.
“What-” He lifts the black leather up to try and look at the insignia stamped on the bottom of the handle.
A faint thump makes him look up and jump away from the trunk. Dean turns to find that Castiel has gone limp, slumped over by the bedframe, with a blank look on his face. He swears and hastily shuts the trunk to kneel beside the other prince.
“Castiel?” There’s no response.
Castiel’s eyes are far away, like he’s looking at something Dean can’t see.
Dean quickly pulls a blanket down and bundles the other prince up, hefting him up into his arms. Thankfully, the healer's quarters aren’t too far away.
He stumbles through the door, Castiel’s limp weight heavy in his arms. One of the healer’s apprentices jumps up instantly and shows him to the room he’d requested. Dean carefully lays the omega on the bed, gently arranging his limbs to lay comfortably. Castiel still has the strange, vacant look on his face, his breathing shallow but steady. His scent is as blank as his expression, as if he’s beyond the fear that had gripped him back in the bedroom.
“Goodness, what do we have here?” Rowena sweeps into the room, setting a basket down on the small table.
“This is Prince Castiel, Rowena.” Dean says quietly. “He needs to be examined. From what little he’s told me, he was assaulted by his guards en route to the castle. Probably more than once.”
Rowena purses her lips and approaches the still omega. She runs a hand through his hair, looking into his eyes.
“Did he say anything else?”
“He said that they had permission to do what they wanted with him, as payment.” Dean grits his teeth. “He was confused when I asked if he had wanted any of it. And one of the trunks that they sent along with him is full of equipment to- punish him or torture him I think. He collapsed in fear when I opened it and was barely able to look at me when I asked him about it. Then he went limp like this and I brought him down.”
Rowena sighs. The bruises on Castiel’s torso reappear as she pulls the blanket down. She sets her jaw.
“Help me roll him on his side, deary.” She instructs Dean.
Together they carefully roll him to expose his back. Rowena doesn’t seem surprised by the bruising stretching across Castiel’s ass and thighs. Dean bites back a growl. There are older, faded marks on Castiel’s back under the fresh bruising.
“He came to you like this?” Rowena asks. Dean bristles.
“Of course, Ro, you know I would never lay a hand on an omega, let alone like this. Besides, he’s only been here for a few hours. Some of these marks are days or even weeks old.” He doesn’t even bother counting the older scars and marks for now.
“I still have to ask.” She calls in an apprentice to apply salves and bandages to support Castiel’s ribs. “Show me the trunk that set him off like this.”
She follows along quickly as Dean leads her back to the guest chambers. He opens the trunk and Rowena looks the contents over, carefully using a handkerchief to shift a few items before standing and tucking it away.
“Your Castiel is the youngest, and the only omega in his family, correct?” Dean nods. “What do you know of the royal culture he comes from?”
“Not much.” Dean admits. “They’re a secretive people at the best of times and we haven’t had many dealings with them in the past.”
Rowena sits back on her heels with a sigh.
“I’ve dealt with them before, long ago. They have a… different view of presentation hierarchies there. Especially in the royal line. Omegas aren’t common in the royal family, and when they do turn up they don’t often live very long once they present. That Castiel is still alive means that there must be some members of the family that care about him to some extent, even if it’s just to keep him alive as a bargaining chip.” She frowns in thought.
“Why wouldn’t the royal omegas not be as long-lived?” Dean isn’t sure he wants to know.
“The... position that they are put in after they present often takes a toll on the omega.” Rowena says quietly. “They are regarded as ill-luck. After presentation they are forced to take on the role of- in common tongue it would be something like The People’s Whore. Long ago it was an honored position connected with sacrifices for fertility and harvest gods. But it has become twisted into a punishment.”
Dean stares at the trunk.
“What-” He rasps. “He mentioned something about knowing his duties.”
“I will need you to stay calm.” Rowena cautions. Dean nods. “Once he presented, he would have been made physically and sexually available to any alpha noble or those of high enough rank living in the castle. Heats would have been spent either in public or in a designated room with open access. Sometimes heats would have been reserved for select nobility. They likely selected him to be sent here because he fulfills the requirements of being royal blood and of breeding age and ability, but from their perspective it’s barely above an insult to them to have sent him.”
Dean flexes his hands, forcing them to relax from the tight fists they become.
“So you’re telling me that from the time he presented, barely beyond a child, he has likely been raped by alphas on a daily basis. Until his arrival here.”
“Do not call it such in front of him until he’s ready, but. Yes.” Rowena says with a sigh.
“Right.” Dean grabs the trunk full of things used to harm his mate-to-be and drags it out to the hall. He spots a page down the hall. “You there- get help and take this down to the tannery and blacksmiths. Anything that can be repurposed should be used and any that cannot should be burnt.”
The page nods and takes off running. Dean turns back to Rowena with a dark expression. She gives him a sad smile in return.