Lionheart

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dean didn't see much of the King after the trial, so he again retreated to the library, reading as much as he could of the previous monarchs' journals. He could hear Millennia calling to him, her voice becoming more and more insistent each day, and he knew that Castiel could hear it too.

A couple of nights before they were due to climb the mountain, Dean was lying in bed, reading by candlelight, when there was a soft knock at the door of Dean's chamber.

'Come in,' Dean called, and Castiel came in with a tray, dressed in his nightclothes. 'Is everything all right?' Dean asked as he sat on the edge of Dean's bed.

Castiel nodded and placed the tray on the bed between them. It had a soft, white tunic on it, and three ancient glass bottles filled with liquid. 'I must speak with you about the pilgrimage,' he said softly. 'And the blessing.'

Dean sat up straighter and put the journal he was reading down. 'Is there a problem?'

'No...' But he sounded uncertain. 'Dean, you performed the ceremony and accepted the power. In order to renew it, you must go on the pilgrimage with me.'

'What?'

'I'm sorry,' Castiel said hastily. 'I never intended for this.'

Dean shifted uncomfortably. 'What happens if I don't renew the power?'

Castiel shrugged. 'As with Raphael, it will fade. It could take a year, it could take ten, but eventually you will stop being able to heal.'

'All right, so what do I have to do?'

Castiel looked at him with a pained expression. 'You must hold in your mind what you thought of during the ceremony. It's the only way it'll bind to you. On the way up, you'll go through the trials, as I do. You must prove your devotion, purify yourself, and face the spirits.'

'And all this while thinking of who I love...' Dean said in a small voice.

Castiel's lip briefly trembled. 'I would not ask this of you, Dean, but if I'm to reseed the north... I need you...'

Dean hesitantly reached out and covered Castiel's hand with his own. 'You don't need to ask anything of me. I do it willingly.'

Castiel allowed Dean to hold his hand only a moment longer. 'You shouldn't,' he muttered.

'I took my vow,' Dean reminded him gently. 'My duty is to you, as yours is to the kingdom.'

'I wish it would not cause you such pain, Dean,' he whispered.

He was leaning close, and Dean knew that, in that moment, seeking comfort, the King would have accepted his kiss. It took everything he had to resist and shuffle away. He couldn't go against Castiel's wishes, he told himself, though the King's disappointed expression cut into him.

'What are these for?' Dean asked, changing the subject and gesturing at the tray.

'These are for you,' Castiel told him. 'Before we go, you must anoint yourself with these oils, like so.' He picked up one of the bottles and tipped a few drops onto his thumb, then painted a circle on his forehead in the oil. 'This one on your head, to focus your thoughts. This one on your right shoulder, to bless your sword arm, and this one over your heart... to let your love out into the world,' he said, pointing to each of the bottles. 'Understand?'

Dean nodded, taking the tray and placing it safely on the bedside table, ready to go.

'What are you reading?' Castiel asked, noticing the journal and pointing at it with a frown.

'Oh, uh... It's one of your grandmother's journals.'

Castiel's frown deepened. 'Where did you get this?'