From The Mind Of Jemma Winchester

Princess Jemma

Do any of you want me to put trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter? If so, which ones? This chapter was so much fun to write. This definitely won't be the last chapter like this. 

Synopsis: Gabriel is alive and sends Jemma to an alternate universe where the Winchesters are royalty.

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        "We'll be back soon, okay?" Dean says as he grabs his jacket from off of the edge of a chair.

        "Okay. Be careful," I say.

        Sam and Dean are hunting a group of shifters who seem to be gathering at a bar; a place I cannot go for obvious reasons. I collapse onto the couch in the motel room and start to read the book I brought along with me. "Hey, Winchester Jr.!" A voice says from in front of me. I'm standing and have my angel blade ready in a flash. Gabriel sits on the bed with his legs crossed in front of him.

        "Gabriel?"

        "In the flesh." He stands and strolls over to me.

        "You died, like, five years ago. How are you alive?" I ask.

        "Hello," he says, gesturing to himself, "I'm a Trickster. Did you honestly think I was going to be that easy to get rid of?"

        "Good point." I loop the angel blade back into my belt buckle. "What are you doing here?"

        "Well, I realized that you somehow skipped out on all of the joyrides I took your dad and uncle on, so I'm here to show you a little Trickster magic."

        "I'm not sure I want to see any Trickster magic."

        "You'll do fine. Do what you always do: survive, act, and fight."

        "What's that supposed to-"

        "You'll only be there three nights, good luck!" 

        "Wait, don't-" 

        Gabriel snaps his fingers and I collapse against the table, unconscious.

        I groan and sit up. I'm wearing a dress, which is very unusual as a hunter. It's long, and dark red with lace lining the short, puffy sleeves and the neckline. I walk over to the large vanity across from the king sized bed. My hair looks almost the same: stopping at the middle of my neck, but it's curly. Someone knocks on the bedroom door. "Come in," I tell them.

        A young man in armor opens the door. "Your father wishes to see you, princess."

        "Oh, um, of course," I say, going along with it.

        He leads me down several winding hallways and a flight of stairs, all covered in plush velvet. "My king, I have brought your daughter," the man in the armor says, bows, then walks off.

        "My beautiful princess, how are you today?" Dean says and holds my face in his hands.

        "I'm good," I reply.

        "The goldsmith has finished making your crown for the ball."

        "The ball...?"

        Dean chuckles. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about the Valentine's Day Ball. We have one every year!"

        "Right."