Lionheart

Chapter Nineteen

Dean glanced back at Raphael, his stomach churning. Raphael was tightly bound at the wrists and tied to his horse, surrounded by all of the royal guard, with Charlie leading the way, but Dean still felt unsettled around him. Perhaps it was the way he stared at the back of Castiel's head, or the way the air around him still crackled with the vestiges of static electricity.

'Are you frightened of me, Lionheart?' Raphael asked, speaking for the first time since he'd been captured.

Dean shivered and turned away, Raphael's harsh laughter echoing in his ears.

Castiel had not so much as turned his head, doing his very best to ignore Raphael, so Dean rode up beside him to check on him. His jaw was set, and he stared straight ahead, but Dean could tell that Raphael's presence was bothering him.

'We'll be home soon,' Castiel said reassuringly.

By now, most of the army had dispersed, either returning to their previous posts, or helping rebuild the homes that Raphael's army had destroyed.

Without a leader, most of Raphael's army had milled around until Castiel addressed them directly, inviting them to join him in returning to the castle, or accompanying the others in helping rebuild. Most of them opted to trudge back the way they'd come and begin clearing away the areas they'd burned down at Raphael's command.

Balthazar's army too had begun the long march back to Negium, leaving only a small contingent of soldiers to defend their king. He insisted that he was perfectly safe within Castiel's army, and commanded they return home to rest.

'How long do you think?' Dean asked, the feeling of Raphael's eyes on him sending shivers up his spine. He would be relieved when Raphael was finally thrown down into the dungeons.

Castiel looked around. 'We should be back by this evening.'

Dean nodded, letting out a breath.

Castiel gave him a concerned look. 'Come,' he said, spurring his horse forward, out of earshot of everyone else, and gestured for Dean to follow. 'You don't need to be afraid of him,' he said softly.

'Easy for you to say,' Dean said, scratching the lightning scars on his arm.

'He can't hurt anyone anymore.'

Dean shrugged. 'I know that,' he said, but even as he said it, the image of Raphael standing before him, lightning shooting from his hands, appeared before his eyes, and he instinctively raised his arm to defend himself. It wasn't until he felt Castiel's warm healing spread through him that the image faded away, replaced by Castiel's concerned expression, his hand on Dean's.

'Let's get you home,' he said gently. He glanced over his shoulder at Charlie. 'Wait here,' he said, turning his horse around and calling the whole host to a halt.

Dean watched as he had a hurried conversation with Charlie and Balthazar, then returned to Dean.

'We're going ahead without them,' Castiel said. 'Balthazar will lead them.'

'But-'

'Don't argue. I want to go home.'

Dean clamped his mouth shut, but smiled, realising that the King was making a show of wanting to go home to save Dean some embarrassment.

Finally free of Raphael's piercing stare, and the agonisingly slow pace of an army on the march, Dean was finally able to relax, breathing in the fresh air and feeling the sun on his face as he and Castiel galloped away from the army.

They didn't stop for nearly an hour, until the army were far beyond the horizon. Castiel slowed the horses to a leisurely trot, then stopped altogether at a stream, where he let the horses drink.