Chapter Tags: PTSD of sorts, guilt, shame, anger, resentment, mentions of losing virginity, mentions of prostitution, angst, arguments, fluff
Chapter WC: 2281
The King’s Blessing Masterlist
Dean’s POV
Dean can’t help it. Every time his mind drifts, every time he closes his eyes, every time he’s met with silence, all he can hear is the way Y/N screamed in pain as his father ripped her innocence from her and Dean stood there like a pathetic, weak, shell of a man and let it happen. He didn’t fight for her, didn’t wield his sword, didn’t use his fists to debilitate the king from his duty. The prince just stood there and allowed his future queen – the love of his life – to be stripped of her purity by a man other than him. He doesn’t even deserve her.
“Drink.”
The gauntlet of beer that now hovers in front of Dean’s face snaps him out of his head, and he takes the drink and swallows half of it down straight away.
“You’re supposed to be celebrating, but instead you’re sitting there looking like a wounded animal,” his brother scoffs, taking a seat beside him. “I thought you liked Y/N? We both know she’s beautiful.”
“Father blessed her,” Dean gets out, not able to look Sam in the eyes.
“It’s his duty,” Sam finally argues, though there is no conviction in his voice. “He’ll bless my betrothed when the time comes, too.”
“It’s bullshit, Sammy, he made it up because he just has this sick fantasy about taking girl after girl’s innocence.”
Dean is met with silence from his brother after addressing the elephant in the room. If there’s anyone in this family capable of standing up for himself against the king, it’s Sam. And Dean wonders if Sam would’ve stood there and let it happen as he did, or if Y/N deserves a prince like his brother instead of him.
“Is Y/N okay?” Sam finally asks.
“I don’t know, she won’t talk to me, and besides, I can barely look at her.”
“Dad won’t touch her again, Dean. She’s blessed now, she’s all yours. All you can do is move forward and put all this behind you.”
“You didn’t hear the way she screamed, Sammy. I’ll never get that sound out of my head.”
Sam sighs heavily and grabs his own beer, taking a long swig. “Drink,” he orders as he swallows. “It’ll help.”
And Dean can only pray that his brother is right.
Dean doesn’t cheer up even after several tankards of beer, and the only thing that takes him through the evening is the thought of Y/N finally being his. The king will never touch her again, Dean will make sure of it for as long as he’s her husband.
“Have another, brother,” Sam insists, thrusting yet another tankard of beer in Dean’s face. But Dean isn’t in the mood, he just wants to retire to his sleeping chambers already.
“Think I’m gonna go,” Dean tells him, attempting to get to his feet.
“Go? But we’ve barely celebrated,” Sam tells him, frowning slightly.
“I don’t know if you can tell, Sammy, but I’m not really in the mood for celebrating.”
Sam glances towards the door and then back at Dean.
“One more drink?” he urges.
Dean frowns slightly as Sam’s eyes once more drift to the door. “What’s going on, Sammy?” he prompts.
“Nothing,” Sam shrugs, “I just think you should have one more beer, the night is still young.”
“Sammy,” Dean grunts, glaring at his little brother.
“Father thought it would be a good idea to celebrate your last night of freedom. He should be along any moment,” Sam explains weakly.
“Father is coming?” Dean asks, before bolting to his feet. “I’m going.”
But before he can get to the door, it opens, and he’s face to face with his father. There’s a smug grin on the king’s face that the prince wants to punch off, but instead, he clenches his jaw.
“There he is, the man of the occasion,” John beams, slapping a hand down on Dean’s shoulder. He squeezes and grins at Dean like he didn’t steal his son’s betrothed virginity only two days before. “Where were you going?”
“To bed,” Dean grunts out, shrugging his shoulder free from his father’s grasp.
“At this early hour on the eve of your wedding?” John blinks, “nonsense, you’ll have a drink or two with your king and enjoy the entertainment I’ve provided.”
“I’m not feeling up to it, I just want to retire,” Dean complains, watching as John steps to one side and several women step into the room, all batting of their eyelashes and sways of their hips. They’re barely clothed, and one instantly finds his younger brother as he invites her to sit on his lap.
Two of them sidle up to Dean, reaching out to grab his arms and squeeze his biceps as John gives him a shit-eating grin.
“I’m not interested,” Dean grunts, shrugging the women off, not caring if he seems rude.
“Not interested? When has my son ever not been interested in pretty little things like this one?” John scoffs, pulling one into his side and playing with her hair. “Maybe you need some wine.”
One girl is quick to leave Dean’s side, returning moments later with a large glass of deep crimson wine, trying to hand it to him.
“I need to sleep,” Dean insists, making moves to walk around his father, but John takes one step to the side and places a hand on Dean’s chest, stopping him in his tracks.
“Stay,” John tells him firmly. “That is an order, son,” he adds before Dean can protest.
Dean huffs a breath and steps back, making sure that his father is aware of how displeased he is with the command by glaring at him, before retreating and returning to sitting on the couch alongside his brother, who is very much enjoying the female attention. The two women that had been hovering around Dean are now sitting alongside him, and he tries to ignore them, drinking down the wine he’d been handed.
“I know you’re upset with me, son,” John sighs, moving to sit on the couch opposite them. He takes the wine that’s handed to him and allows the redhead to perch herself alongside him, throwing his arm around her small frame. “But I was only doing my duty. It will be your duty too, one day.”
Dean bites his tongue, deciding now isn’t the time to inform his father of his plans to abolish the blessings altogether once he takes to the throne. It used to be one of the highlights of one day becoming king to Dean, but since meeting Y/N he’s seen blessings in a whole new light, and especially after witnessing the way that Y/N reacted, he never wants to be responsible for anyone feeling that way. But John doesn’t have to know any of that. Dean won’t become king until John is dead, and by then, Dean will be able to do what he wants with his newly inherited kingdom.
“I’ve got you a wedding gift,” John speaks up again, standing up and making his way to the doors. The woman that’s following him around like a shadow leaves the room, and when she returns she’s holding a young blonde’s arm.
“Who’s this?” Dean asks, eying the blonde suspiciously. The girl is younger than Y/N from what Dean can tell, and she looks a little intimidated as her eyes glance around the room. Her dress covers more of her than the clothes the whores are wearing, but it’s cheap and dirty in places, so Dean knows she must be someone from the village.
“This is your gift,” John repeats. “… and a slight peace offering.” Dean takes his eyes off of the blonde and instead stares at his father.
“No,” Dean insists, shaking his head.
“Would it ease your mind if you knew her name?” John blinks, like not knowing her name is Dean’s biggest issue with this situation. “Tell him your name, my child, don’t be shy.”
“Claire,” the blonde speaks up, clearing her throat.
“Claire here is a woman, she bled a long time ago, but she’s yet to find a man who wishes to marry her, so she has yet to be blessed. Maybe you can help her out with that.”
“I’m not the king,” Dean tells him through gritted teeth.
“Yet,” John points out. “But one day you will be, and I figured tonight would be the perfect night for you to practise what will soon be your duty,” John explains. Dean shakes his head, looking away. “Don’t you want to feel a virgin before you become a husband?” John asks, frowning. “Don’t you want a taste of the power that comes with taking someone’s innocence?”
“I would’ve had you let my bride give her innocence to me,” Dean grunts, getting up to his feet. “But now, thanks to you, she is no longer untouched.”
“You’ll understand one day, son, when you’re the king.”
“You think I’m going to keep up this facade when I’m king? The first thing that’s ending is this stupid blessing. It’s not a blessing, it’s a curse.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” John tells him calmly. “I hope you change your mind, the people of our kingdom take great comfort in the idea of my blessings.”
“More fool them,” Dean scoffs. “You’re a sick sonofabitch, and I won’t be anything like the king you are. You can keep your whores and your virgins, the only woman I want is Y/N, and from tomorrow, neither of us will lie with anyone else. And that includes you, your majesty.”
Dean storms out of the room before he can say anything that will dig his grave deeper, or John can lash out in retaliation. He doesn’t regret a single thing he said, because he believes every single word to be true, but he does realise that saying those things – true or not – is potentially going to blow up in his face if his father is as spiteful and bitter as Dean knows him to be. John just ruins everything, and one thing’s for sure, Dean is going to be damned if he lets his father ruin his entire marriage too. The awkward silences, the inability to look his beloved in the eye, that stops tonight. John will never come between the two of them again.
Unlike the trouble he knows Y/N had when she visited his sleeping chambers late at night that one time, the guards are quick to let Dean to the door, and he takes a deep breath as he knocks on it and waits. It’s a little after midnight now; their wedding day. And while Dean did drink a fair amount of beer and wine in hopes of forgetting everything that happened, the nerves of the situation have kept him somewhat level-headed.
He takes a deep breath and clears his throat as he continues to wait until finally, Y/N opens the door and peers around it.
“Prince Dean,” she chokes out, stepping to one side to let him in.
Dean’s not heard her formally address him like that since she first came to Lawrence, and he doesn’t so much like it.
“Why are you here? Isn’t it bad luck to see your bride the night before your wedding?” she asks, and Dean tells himself the superstition is why she’s unable to look him in the eye, but he knows the bitter truth. His father is that reason. Y/N hasn’t been right since she was blessed.
“There’ll be no such thing as bad luck in our marriage, Y/N,” Dean insists, “and do you want to know why?”
He steps forward, reaching for her chin as he tips her face up to look at him. She takes a shaky breath when their eyes meet, and he can feel her begin to tremble beneath his touch.
“Because when we get married tomorrow, you will finally be my wife, and I will never let anyone hurt you again, including my father,” Dean promises her. “It will always just be you and me.”
Y/N looks away, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Do you believe me?” he asks. Y/N doesn’t reply. “Do you trust me?”
“I trust you, Dean,” she confirms, much to his relief.
“Then trust me when I tell you that as soon as you’re my wife, I’ll protect you until my dying breath.”
Y/N begins to cry softly, silent tears trickling down her cheeks and Dean uses the pad of his thumb to brush them away gently.
“How can you still want me? I’m impure, I’m… when the king…” she stops, shaking her head.
“I should’ve stopped him,” Dean tells her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t.”
“No, Dean, he might be your father, but he’s still your king, you couldn’t disobey him like that, especially when you’re not my husband yet.”
“Well, king or otherwise, I’m not letting him touch you again.”
Y/N nods, offering him a weak but appreciative smile, and Dean leans down and kisses her lips softly. “It’ll still be special, Y/N,” he whispers. “Our wedding night, I mean. You’re not the first woman I’ll have shared my bed with, you know that, but we’ll be each other’s lasts, and that’s what matters.”
Y/N steps back. “You still shouldn’t see me the night before our wedding, Dean, what if something bad happens?” she frets, but there’s a smile on her lips so he knows she’s not really mad.
“What bad thing could possibly happen, Y/N? You’re about to be my wife, that can only be a good thing.”
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