FIC: The Laws of Refraction Chapter One (Jared/Jensen NC-17)

[tebtosca]

Jensen knows that sneaking away from the royal guard probably wasn’t the best idea he’s ever had when he finds himself lost inside a courtyard lush with multi-colored vegetation.

His intentions were good, he tells himself, even as he pushes his way through the growth and a bright purple branch smacks him across the cheek. It’s not his fault that his father’s guard is so stringent about where he’s allowed to go – otherwise known as nowhere.

When Jensen managed to convince his father that he was old enough now at the end of ten cycles to join him on the journey to Dominus for the trading conference, he expected that he would be faced with the possibility of great adventure. Instead, he was shoved into a room with the children of the Dominusian chancellor and told to “behave.”

Prince Jensen, however, is never one to be told what to do, and was aghast that he was being compared to the little babies playing with their toy robots while their parents discussed things of great importance.

No, Jensen is no baby. He is ten, and tall and strong for his age if his tutor Miss Rhodes is to be believed. So, with that knowledge in his mind, he waits until his father’s laziest guard Clif turns his back, and slips out of the room.

He runs like the wind, realizing after the fact that he doesn’t really have a destination planned. Figuring that it’s just part of the adventure, he continues on his way and hopes that he can find something to amuse himself with.

Now it’s two hours later, and all he’s gotten for his troubles is sore feet and a whack in the face. Sighing, he pushes through the last deep thicket. Before he can catch himself, though, his leg catches on a low branch and he is rolling out of the bushes and down a low hill.

Jensen cringes when he goes to sit up, his chest hurting slightly from having the wind knocked out of him. His tunic and pants are covered in dirt and leaves, and he groans knowing his father is going to positively kill him when he gets back.

He goes to stand up and then realizes with a tiny bit of fear that maybe dirty clothes aren’t the biggest of his concerns. Trying to put weight on his left leg causes him to cry out and sink back to the ground, where he looks at the deep gash torn into the side of his calf and what surely is a bad sprain if nothing else.

“Are you alright?”

The voice shocks Jensen into action, and he makes to stand again as a defensive gesture, before falling back down to the ground, just catching himself on his scrapped up hands. He looks up, ready to fight back, with the most princely chin jut he can manage.

Luckily, it’s just a boy, roughly Jensen’s age, with simple clothing and hair so long that it covers half of his slightly slanted eyes. His face has specks of dirt on it, and it looks like he’s been rolling around in the same overgrowth Jensen has been.

“I’m fine, thank you,” Jensen replies, doing his best to remember his manners now that he sees that the boy is not an immediate threat.

The boy squats down in front of Jensen, brushing his shock of chestnut hair out of his face as he does it. He smiles brightly, twin craters in his cheeks making him appear even more harmless.

“You don’t look fine,” the boy replies, and laughs gaily when Jensen scoffs. “I’m Jared. What’s your name?”

Jensen pauses for a moment, assessing the situation. His father has always warned him against being too forward with strangers, the threat to the royal family always at the back of their minds. But this Jared creature doesn’t look like he could hurt a Dallasian horsefly, much less its prince.

“Jensen.”

Jared nods, appeased, and looks down at the wound on Jensen’s leg. “Your blood is red,” he says, appearing surprised.

“Of course it is. What color is yours?”

“Blue, of course,” Jared replies, picking up a jagged piece of stone from the ground and dragging it across his palm. He hisses a bit with the action, but then holds out his palm, which is indeed streaked with what appears to be blue-colored blood.

Jensen startles in surprise when Jared uses his non-injured hand to grab Jensen’s own scrapped up one.

“Look at that,” Jared says, a bit of marvel in his tone as he compares the sticky blood.

Jensen scrunches up his face and pulls his hand back. “That’s weird.”

“Not really, no. Perhaps you are the weird one.”

Jensen’s mouth turns down into a pout. How dare this odd boy speak to him like this. “I can assure you that my father would not take kindly to you saying that about me.”

Jared just laughs again, the corners of his mouth stretched so far that they are turning white at the corners.

“Why are you laughing at me?” Jensen asks, never having experienced such insolence before, and not sure how he feels about it. Or how he should feel about it, more likely.

“Because you’re funny, Jensen,” Jared replies, shrugging like it’s an obvious answer.

Before Jensen can think of how to respond to something like that, Jared starts rooting around in the pockets of his pants and pulls out a small pouch made of some sort of animal skin. He pokes around at it, before finally opening the strings keeping it shut and pulling out what looks like a sticky sort of poultice.

Jared starts towards Jensen’s leg, but Jensen pulls back just in time, scooting on his behind until he’s just out of reach.

“What is that?” Jensen demands, glaring at the weird green-colored mixture in Jared’s hand.

Jared rolls his eyes, and Jensen can barely see it through the hair covering them. “It’s just some herbs to help stop the bleeding. My mother makes me carry them with me at all times because I seem to trip and fall a lot.”

Jensen barks a laugh, surprised by Jared’s self-deprecating honesty.

“You should laugh more often. Makes you look like less of a sour-face,” Jared says, sneaking over and starting to apply the herbs to Jensen’s wound before Jensen can think to resist again.

“You should watch who you are calling a sour-face. My father wouldn’t take too kindly to that either.”

Jared’s fingers, small and skinny as they are, make quick work of smoothing the medicinal plants over the gash in Jensen’s calf.

Jensen is so used to the prickly buzz of the nano-bots stitching skin back up when he is cut that having another’s hands on him instead is an odd sensation. He stares at where his own blood is dotting Jared’s skin, swirling the colors together into one. Jensen shakes his head and looks up, as Jared wipes the blood off on the patch of grass beneath them.

“You think quite highly of your father’s opinion, don’t you?” Jared says, the tone of his voice light, but he peers up with little glances from underneath his hair when he says it.

Jensen remembers being told to stay in the little palace room, and disobeying. Jared doesn’t have to know that part, of course.

“Of course I do. Don’t you with yours?”

Jared shrugs again. “Sure. My father is a great man.”

“So is mine. The greatest.” Jensen can’t help puffing his little chest out with his best Ackles pride.

Jared smiles again, smaller this time, but doesn’t say anything else. The boys sit in companionable silence for a moment, the Dominusian sun beating down on their faces. The throbbing in Jensen’s leg dulls, and he begins to open his mouth to thank the boy when his father’s guard Clif comes stomping through the brush and heading straight for him.

The man, hugely round with his gleaming bald head, looks equal parts frustrated and rage-filled, and Jensen grimaces at the sight. He knows that it’s likely Clif won’t tell his father about this discretion, mainly because it would likely involve more punishment for the guard than for the prince.

“Prince Jensen, what do you think you’re doing?” Clif hisses, huffing as he reaches down and pulls the boy bodily into his meaty arms.

“Prince?” Jared says, his eyes wide as he jumps up. He initially looked like he wanted to defend his new-found friend, but stopped short when he heard what the guard had said to him.

Jensen tries to kick out of Clif’s grasp, embarrassment flooding him at being treated like a baby, but his grip is too solid to get out of. Instead, he just slumps against the man’s chest and nods his head at Jared.

“And you, who do you think you are?” Clif demands. His gaze suddenly takes in the sight of the traces of lingering blood on Jared’s hands and back down at the treated wound on Jensen’s leg. Jensen can feel him vibrating with anger. “Did you do this? Speak now, boy, before I bring the wrath of King Ackles upon you!”

Jared brushes his hair back out of his face and sets his chin in a stern expression that is much too old for his years. He sets his shoulders before he speaks.

“I am Prince Jared of Padaleck, so you should have some respect, guard.”

Padaleck? Jensen thinks, looking over at the boy, whose entire posture has now changed into something more regal.

But Clif just sneers. “I should have known. Come, Prince Jensen, let’s get you far away from this primitive creature. His people are animals, every one.”

Before Jensen can say another word, Clif is carrying him off. Jensen manages one last look back at his fellow Prince, who is staring after him with a saddened expression on his face.




“Mother, how could you?” Jensen exclaims, practically stomping his feet on the floor in frustration.

Queen Samantha raises one delicate eyebrow and pours herself a glass of Dallasian wine. She had already excused all the servants so that she and her son could have this talk in private.

“Jensen, my darling son, we all have our parts to play. Our duty to Dallasia and the galaxy at large is greater than our own personal needs.”

Jensen stares at her, dumbfounded. His father, the king, had always been the one who expounded upon duty and honor, not his mother. She had been the one who had encouraged him to get out and explore, to find out who he was and who he wanted to be. Who is this person now telling him that the very essence of his life is something to be traded away like it’s nothing?

The Queen must sense his confusion, because her face softens and she puts down the goblet to come over and stroke a hand down the side of Jensen’s cheek. If the skin is wet, well, that is between a boy and his mother.

“Jensen, know that I would never ask this of you if I didn’t think it would be the right thing in the long run. Yes, it will be hard at first, but Prince Jared is a good boy and I think, in time, you two will rule our planets with honor. Perhaps even one day with love.”

He pulls away harshly and turns him back on her, causing her to make a low tsking sound. “First of all, you didn’t ask me anything, you told me that you were marrying me off like chattel.”

“Jensen—“

“And secondly, the Padalecki clan are barbarians. How can you expect me to wed someone of so much lower station than myself?”

“Jensen,” Queen Samantha repeats, this time sternly and brooking no argument. Jensen grits his teeth and turns back to face her. Her beautiful face is as tight as the golden braids piled regally atop her head.

When she sees that she has his attention, she continues. “Your father, may the Gods bless his soul, was a great man, but he also had prejudices ingrained in him from his father before him. Not all of these prejudices were fair, among them those he held against the Padalecki people.”

“But Mother –“

“Jensen, hush while I am speaking.”

Jensen lowers his head, chastened.

“I have met extensively with Queen Amanda and neither of us are taking this union lightly. There are people within the higher echelons of our governments, people still loyal to that traitor Heyerdahl, even after your father had him banished from the quadrant. These people seek to gain power by undermining our reigns. The only way we are going to be able to hold off those threats to our livelihood is to come together and forge an even stronger bond between the two planets. Do you understand now why this is important, not just for us, but for the galaxy as a whole?”

“I do, Mother, but what about Alona?”

“You would have your sister sacrifice in your place? Is this the man I have raised?”

Jensen feels shame burn his cheeks and he closes his eyes. “No, Mother. Of course not.”

Queen Samantha sighs, sitting back down and sipping from her cup once more. “Good boy. Now leave your poor mother to her rest. You have a week until the Padalecki family arrives for the wedding festivities. Do what you must to prepare.”

With one more obedient nod, he retreats from her chambers. The minute the door closes behind him, however, he is scowling at her guardsmen and stomping down the hallway towards his own wing of the palace.

When he approaches his bed chamber, he throws open the door with such force that it makes the furniture vibrate. He slams it closed for good measure and huffs, hands on hips.

“Went that well, huh?”

Jensen looks at his best friend Misha, curled up in a ball on the chaise. The feelers poking out of his spiky black hair twitch with amusement, and his tail curls around the obsidian blue skin of his ankle.

“You don’t get it,” Jensen grumbles, throwing himself down onto his bed and resisting the temptation to throw an all-out temper tantrum.

Misha just laughs, but Jensen knows that he doesn’t get it. The people from the pleasure planet of Celestia—Misha’s home planet – don’t bother with boring things like diplomacy or stopping impending intergalactic war. Of course, Jensen probably wouldn’t bother either if his entire body was an erogenous zone.

“So what’s the verdict?” Misha prods when Jensen decides to stop talking completely.

Jensen huffs again and rolls over, staring at the ceiling and not at his best friend’s bemused expression.

“I’m being sold into marriage with the Prince of Padalek.”

Misha lets out a long whistle, which is about an octave higher than Jensen is capable of. Somewhere in the distance, a few palace canines howl.

“The Padalecki are very attractive. Tall and shapely.”

“I tell you that I’m being forced to marry my mortal enemy and your reaction is that at least he’s hot?”

Misha’s feelers wiggle again. “Would you be mad if I said ‘yes, exactly that’?”

Jensen sighs, jumping up from the bed to pour himself four fingers worth of the best liquor in his cabinet. “It’s different for me. This is about honor and duty, not about getting my rocks off.”

“And that’s all life is about for me?” Misha asks.

“Yes.”

“Okay, maybe that’s true,” Misha relents. He hops up off the chaise and saunters over to Jensen, cocking his material-draped hip against the gilded bar. “I can show you a few tricks that’ll impress old Prince Padalecki. Their anatomy is a little, how should I say…intriguing.”

“I would rather consummate my union with my mother’s goblet before doing anything involving you and genitalia.”

“No need to be rude,” Misha tsks, waving his hand. “I have to go to work anyway. Not all of us are royalty who have luxury handed to us in exchange for a little duty with other hot princes.”

“You’re a courtesan. Work means you lie there and giggle while someone pulls your tail. What a hardship.”

“Someone will be pulling something, but a gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” Misha replies, blowing Jensen a kiss as he saunters out of the room.

“So I hear Mother’s selling your ass to the Padalecki hottie.”

Jensen rolls his eyes at his little sister’s voice. Leave it to her to sneak in while Misha is slipping out.

“Not you, too. And where the hell are my guards? Ruffians slipping in and out of my chambers like an open-air market.”

Alona just laughs, pulling the cup right out of Jensen’s fist and finishing the last of his booze. She hiccups for good measure, and then throws herself down on Jensen’s bed dramatically.

“I bet you tried to ship me off instead.”

“I did n…okay, I totally did.”

“So predictable.”

Jensen goes over and lies down next to her, propping himself up on his elbow. “I’m a terrible brother.”

Alona’s smile is fond as she runs a hand down his face, just like their mother did earlier. “It would have been much worse if you tried to sell me off to that Gorgon who rules Hellatia. At least Prince Jared is supposed to be handsome.”

“I suppose he should be by now...”

Alona sits up suddenly, nearly knocking Jensen over. “How do you know he is? Have you met him?”

Jensen slaps his hands over his face, hoping that if she can’t see him, she’ll leave him alone and go away. Sadly, he’s been doing the same thing since she was around three years old, so it doesn’t work.

“No, you don’t! No playing hidey-face with me, Jensen,” Alona says, piling her skinny body on him and pulling his hands off his face with both of hers.

“Oof, get off me, you pixie villain!” he insists, rolling her off of him.

“I want details immediately, brother. You aren’t getting out of it!”

“Shush, you terrible wench, there is nothing to tell. We met once, on Dominus, when we were children. It was mere minutes, until Clif came and fetched me and warned me of the creature I was speaking to.”

“Creature?” Alona says incredulously, then sighs at Jensen’s stoic face in return. “Father surely poisoned your mind, didn’t he?”

“Don’t you dare speak ill of Father. You know nothing about him!” Jensen snarls, jumping up quickly and stomping across the room so that he wouldn’t have to look at her.

“Jensen,” Alona starts again, her voice softer this time. “I would never speak ill of Father. I miss him terribly, as does the entire planet. He was a good, fair man. “She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “But he also had deep feelings about the Padalecki people, and I don’t believe all of those feelings were fair. And surely neither does Mother, if she is inspiring this union between our two kinds.”

“It’s just not fair, Alona,” Jensen replies, his tone quiet and somber.

She comes up behind him then, and Jensen can feel where she rests her golden head against the space between his shoulder blades. “I know, Jensen, I know. At least you had that year of adventure traveling, right? And who knows, you and the handsome Prince Jared might yet have many adventures together in the future.”

Jensen turns and wraps his arms around her lithe figure, sighing into her hair. “I doubt it, little sister. I doubt it.”





“Prince Jensen of Dallasia?”

Adrianne stares up at Jared from where she is sitting cross-legged on his bed. His little sister isn’t very little anymore, he thinks fondly. Her mouth is forming a little “O” shape.

“That’s what Mother just told me. Seems we are to be wed in a week’s time as part of some sort of interplanetary peace negotiations.”

Jared attempts to school his voice into its most neutral tone, but his little sister is not easily fooled and starts squealing as she jumps up and runs over to bear-hug him.

“Well, this is wonderful news, isn’t it? The infamous Prince Jensen is to be your husband. How divine is that?” Adrianne says, beaming. Her hair is a mass of chestnut pin-curls and her smile is stretched from ear to ear. She’s adorable, and he finds himself compelled to bend down and press a kiss to her forehead.

“It’s not the most terrible news I’ve ever received, no,” Jared replies, and yelps with a laugh as Adrianne socks him in the shoulder with one fist.

“I’ve only been listening to you wax lyrical about the mysterious Prince Jensen and his ‘emerald orbs’ since I was old enough to put my shoes on myself. Don’t pretend like you aren’t insanely excited right now.”

Jared feels a blush heating up his cheeks, even as he knows she is right. He’s never forgotten the boy with the bright red blood who literally rolled into his life and then was whisked so unceremoniously out of it.

“I just wish it wasn’t happening under such horrible circumstances.”

Adrianne’s face falls immediately, and she falls into Jared’s grasp. They hold each other silently for long moments, each recalling their own memories of their beloved father, the king.

“How is Mother doing? I went to see her before, but she was resting,” Adrianne asks.

Jared shrugs, remembering his mother’s kind but weary eyes has she told him the news of his betrothal, and the reasoning behind it. He could tell that she sought to explain more, but Jared cut her off with his acceptance, both because he was anything but disturbed at the news, but also because he could see how much strain she was under.

The love between his parents was one heralded throughout the land, the planet’s best balladeers composing odes to its majesty. Jared can only hope that his own destiny is written such that he and Jensen can hope to attain something even halfway as close to the same.

Adrianne’s searching face brings him out of his reverie, and he kisses her temple once more. “She is as well as can be expected. I think once the marriage is confirmed, the sense of security it will bring will lend her enough comfort that she can continue her private grieving.”

“She is so strong. I wish there were more we could do to help her,” Adrianne says mournfully, holding her brother tight.

“Indeed. All we can do now is just be supportive and try not to bring any unnecessary stress to her life.”

A knock on the door breaks up their moment, and Jared calls for them to enter. The door pushes open and his robotic manservant Osric enters.

“Jared, Adrianne,” Osric nods. His facial features are designed to mimic the basic shape of the Padaleck people, but his stature is much smaller and his body is sleek, gleaming metal.

“Hey, Os. Did you hear the news?” Adrianne asks, bouncing over to hug the robot, who just pats her awkwardly on the arm in return.

Osric nods briskly and pulls out a holographic pad with what Jared assumes is one of his favorite checklists. “I have been informed that I have exactly six days to prepare Jared for his upcoming nuptials to the heir to the throne of Dallasia. There is much to learn and a scarce amount of time to do it in, so we must cut the shenanigans and begin.”

“I’m hurt that you think we are shenaniganing in here, Os. Addie and I have never shenaniganed in our lives!” Jared proclaims, as Adrianne giggles.

Osric looks perplexed momentarily, before one shiny eyebrow cocks. “You are mocking me. I can tell that is what you are doing, but it will not help you get out of learning the history of Dallasia and its royal lineage.”

“He was mocking you, not me,” Adrianne points out and Jared throws her his best mock-outraged expression.

“You were as well, Adrianne. The tone of your laughter was one of mockery. Your pitch is much higher when you are laughing out of personal enjoyment,” Osric informs her, eyes back on his pad as his fingers tap out something only he knows.

Adrianne sticks her tongue out at the robot as soon as he’s not looking at her and Jared mouths “coward” at her in response. She does it at him as well, before bouncing out of the room and back to her own chambers.

Jared sighs dramatically and stares down at Osric. “Do I really have to have history lessons before I can get married?”

Osric looks at him with a look that should be much too deadpan for an artificial being.

“Fine, fine,” Jared says with a laugh, settling in to the nearest chair so they can get it over with.

He has only six more days to prepare for his destiny.

==

In all of his twenty-four cycles, Jared has never stepped foot on the soil of Dallasia. The two planets are neighbors, but the hostility between the two leading families has lasted for over a century, without most people in the current generation even remembering why. It’s always been silly to Jared, but he has to admit that he’s never been one to concentrate too hard on matters of state. The irony, of course, being that he himself is now part of a pact that is finally –hopefully—going to bring peace to their region.

The Ackles family, as a show of good faith, has offered to host the wedding festivities, with the ceremony itself being presided over by High Councilor Richings as a sign of the Intergalactic Council’s blessing. It’s a good move, not only because Dallasia is more accessible to vessels carrying various esteemed guests from neighboring planets, but also because the palace of the royal family is astonishing in its elegance.

Jared steps off the Padalecki royal transport vessel, accompanied by his mother, sister, Osric, and four of his most loyal attending royal guards. There is a short walk through a well-manicured courtyard before the gilded palace entrance, and Jared stands back for a moment to breathe the foreign air and take in the sight of the just-darkening shimmering green of the sky. It’s a beautiful thing, one of many gem-like things about the planet as a whole, and it helps him steady himself before he descends inside to see what awaits him.

They are met inside by Queen Samantha herself, the Dallasian Royal Guard Commander Beaver standing close at her side. She is dressed in long luxurious robes, as stunningly emerald as the Dallasian sky, and her hair is tied up in long golden ropes upon her head. Jewels adorn most of the flashes of her bare flesh, and Jared reckons she is probably doing her best to impress her soon-to-be familial guests.

The queen beckons to Jared’s mother, and the two women embrace. There is a moment, just barely caught by Jared, when the two queens close their eyes and a passing moment of grief is shared between them. It feels too intimate for Jared to be witnessing, and he averts his eyes just as he notices the others in their party doing the same.

Queen Samantha pulls back then, visibly steadying herself before standing erect and spreading a wide smile on her beautiful face. She squeezes Queen Amanda’s forearm one last time before gesturing towards the rest of the Padalecki royal party.

“Welcome to Dallasia, all of you! I am sorry that your first visit to our beautiful planet is under these dire circumstances, but I hope that this week will find us all bonded to venture forth into blessed days in the future.”

Queen Amanda smiles warmly at her in return, and gestures back at Jared and the others standing with him. “Thank you, Samantha. It is our great pleasure to come to your beautiful home to start forging the beginning of our joint family. My son, Jared is especially excited to meet his intended.”

”Mother,” Jared says on an almost-whine, his cheeks heating up as the queens laugh gaily at his discomfort. He fidgets in his place, and Adrianne can’t resist poking him teasingly in the ribs.

“Speaking of Prince Jensen, will he be joining us any time soon?” Queen Amanda inquires.

An odd look passes Queen Samantha’s face, but it is over in a blink of the eye, and replaced quickly with another brilliant smile. “Of course. He’s been a touch under the weather these past few days. He is taking his father’s passing quite hard, as are we all.”

Queen Amanda takes her hands again, holding them in her own and looking at her mournfully. “Our sincere condolences for your loss, Samantha. Unfortunately, my family knows all too well the grief that you are all suffering.”

Queen Samantha squeezes her hands back before they part. “Thank you, Amanda. And you have our sincerest condolences as well. It is a bitter bond that connects us, but all we can do is stand strong and hope for brighter days.”

“Your Highness, we should let your guests settle in to their chambers before dinner tonight,” Commander Beaver says, and Queen Samantha nods in agreement.

“Yes, we should. Commander, please escort our guests to the south wing and make sure they are fully attended to. We shall meet for supper later this evening.”

Jared follows the group as they are led halfway across the palace to the wing they will be staying in for the week’s festivities. Jared finds himself just the smallest bit overwhelmed, the gleaming luxury of everything from the floors to the furnishings on the walls far ahead of anything they’ve experienced back home. The Padalecki royal castle is large, surely, but theirs are a simpler people, and a rustic charm has always been the first matter of importance to Jared and his family.

Jared realizes then that he’s not even quite sure where he is supposed to be living in a week’s time, and perhaps his excitement over having Jensen as his intended was overshadowing the very real details that he should have been paying attention to.

“You should wear the blue tunic. The color enhances the pigment in your eyes and therefore will be appealing,” Osric intones matter-of-factly later on that evening, as Jared scrambles around throwing around garments from his cases.

“Since when did you become the fashion expert?” Jared says with a hum, pulling out the blue tunic because even if he’s a robot, Osric is also usually right.

“Your sister had me re-programmed three cycles ago to better help her choose between garments.”

“That sounds like her,” Jared snorts, muffled as he pulls the blue tunic over his head and down the length of his body. He smoothes it out and steps back, doing a little spin for Osric’s benefit.

“You appear quite tall. My statistical analysis of the preferences of the Dallasian male tells me that Prince Jensen will be pleased with this.”

“I’m hoping he’ll be pleased alright,” Jared replies, wiggling his eyebrow lasciviously and shaking his hips.

Osric, as usual, appears unimpressed. “Yes, your genitalia appears quite tall as well. Thankfully, I do not have statistical analysis about that.”

“You’re no fun, you know that, Os?”

“Perhaps then you should find another close confidant that is not artificially intelligent.”

“Aw, Os. You’re still my favorite robot.”

“I am your only robot.”

“Don’t rub it in.”

Jared finishes lacing up his finest boots and huffs out a quiet sigh as he checks himself in the mirror. His hair, ever wild, refuses to do much more than wave itself around the curve of Jared’s neck, but it’ll have to do for now. No time to tame the beast when he has a soon-to-be-husband to meet.

“You are quite handsome, my Prince,” Osric says, and if Jared didn’t know that modulated tone better, he would almost think the robot was impressed.

Jared grins, throwing an arm around Osric’s shoulders and leading them both towards the door.

“Thanks, Os. Now let’s just hope Prince Jensen thinks so.”

==

The royal dining area in the palace is even more extravagant, if that was possible. The long gilded gold table appears able to hold upwards of a hundred guests, though there are a mere five people sitting down at one end of it.

Queen Samantha holds court at the end of the table, her children on one side of her. The other side holds two more guests who appear to be, based on Osric’s holographic tutoring, the Queen’s main advisers Sebastian Roché and Rekha Sharma. Commander Beaver and four guards stand close watch nearby.

All but Prince Jensen stand as the Padalecki family came into the room, and Jared can see out of the corner of his eye how his own mother grits her teeth at the young Dallasian’s insolence.

Queen Samantha must have noticed, because her lips move in a low murmur and within seconds Prince Jensen is on his feet as well.

“Welcome, again,” Queen Samantha says graciously, coming around the table to embrace Queen Amanda in greeting before turning back and gesturing towards her people.

“My daughter, the princess Alona.” A lovely young girl, no more than seventeen cycles with the round cheeks and starburst hair of her mother, smiles widely with a nod.

“My trusted advisors, Sebastian and Rekha.” The older, well-lined but handsome gentleman with fair hair and eyes, and a woman with strong, beautiful features and dark hair both nod at the Padaleckis with a greeting of “Your Majesties.”

Queen Samantha pauses before turning to the last and, in Jared’s eyes at least, most important member of the Ackles family.

“And my son, Prince Jensen. Forgive him for forgetting his manners just now. His travels seem to have tarnished his sense of diplomacy.”

Queen Samantha’s voice is as cutting as Jared has heard it yet, and the pink rising in Prince Jensen’s cheeks acknowledge this chastising.

“Indeed, forgive me, Your Highness. It is lovely to make your acquaintance,” Prince Jensen says, aiming his greeting squarely at Queen Amanda as he dips a short but appropriate bow.

Prince Jensen turns to Jared then, and Jared can’t help the tiny gasp released on his breath. Jensen is, quite simply put, breathtaking. Gone is the round-cheeked boy Jared remembers with the bright eyes, spotted nose, and pretty pout. The features are all the same, yet now they are refined, all high cheekbones and plump mouth twisted into a haughty smirk that Jared is dying to kiss right off the man’s belligerent face.

Prince Jensen is a man now, and Jared forgets all the reasons why he was infatuated with the boy in the first place.

“And this,” Queen Samantha begins, and it appears to Jared that she’s resisting a weary sigh. “is my son, Jensen.”

“I’m Jared,” Jared says, maybe a touch too eagerly, but he can’t help himself.

“I know,” Jensen replies, those eyes flicking quickly up and down Jared’s body dismissively.

“Jensen,” Queen Samantha hisses, and Jensen visibly grits his teeth. A not-at-all hidden giggle erupts from Princess Alona behind them.

“I’m Prince Jensen,” Jensen amends, throwing in the honorific for the most obvious reasons.

For some reason, Jared can’t help finding his insolence endearing, and it causes a grin to break out over his face until he knows his dimples are cratering deeply. His smile grows even wider when Jensen seems flustered at Jared’s lack of intimidation and his handsome face breaks into what can only be described as a scowl.

“Shall we eat?” Queen Amanda says, briskly breaking the tension. Queen Samantha looks at her with a grateful expression and motions for them all to sit and for the servants to start serving the first course.

Jared is motioned towards the empty seat next to Jensen, and he takes it with a smile. He doesn’t attempt any small talk at first, taking his time to spread his linen on his lap and sip the delicious Dallasian wine offered to him. He does catch Jensen shooting him suspicious looks out of the corner of his eye, and Jared has to stifle a laugh because of it.

They make it through three courses without saying a word to each other, Jared conversing happily with his sister and Alona, who turns out to be quite clever and as gregarious as her brother is solemn. Finally, after waiting until Jensen is lured into some false sense of security, Jared leans over and whispers to him.

“We’ve met before. Do you remember?”

Jared has to stifle another laugh as Jensen practically jumps in surprise before schooling his features back into practiced boredom.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Jensen replies, and Jared has to admit that part of him is saddened that Jensen either doesn’t remember one of the defining moments of young Jared’s life, or at least is pretending not to.

“Really? Because I remember you quite well. I’ve never had someone physically roll into my life before.”

Jensen nearly recoils at the words, grabbing his chalice and taking great gulps. He doesn’t reply and goes back to pointedly ignoring Jared for the rest of the meal, but Jared doesn’t mind.

Jared has always enjoyed a challenge.



The worst part about having the Padalecki family here in the palace for the past three days is the fact that they are all so damn charming. The queen is dimpled and lovely, Princess Adrianne a delight – even the robot is amusing most of the time.

And Prince Jared, well.

Jensen huffs out a frustrated sound when he thinks of the admittedly handsome prince. Long gone is the boy from Jensen’s memory, the one with the dirty face and pouch full of herbs. Oh, the hair is still too long and sticks up in stupid ways, and the craters in his cheeks are as deep as ever. But now Jensen can see his eyes, the ones that change colors depending on the light or the color of his tunic or the very mood of his expression. And he’s tall, so tall, the awkward lankiness of his adolescent limbs molded into strong rounded shoulders and arms that look like they could carry the burden of the galaxy.

So, yes, Jensen might be a little bit charmed.

“You are mad because you like him?” Misha concludes, badly concealed amusement shaking his shoulders.

“Bah! Get out of my face, you troublesome meddler,” Jensen scoffs in return, doing his best to ignore his best friend’s now outright and delighted laughter.

“Oh, this is beautiful, Jensen. Truly a miracle, one for the Gods!”

“I can have you executed. Don’t forget that.”

Misha waves a hand dismissively. “Then who would you talk to? Oh wait, that’s right – you can talk to your charming betrothed!”

“I don’t want to talk to you or him. Why can’t you people just leave me alone to stew stoically in peace?” Jensen says, grumbling. He pulls on his rattiest tunic and pants and laces up his work boots.

“Where are you going?” Misha calls after him, as Jensen heads towards the door of his chambers. “I was only jesting, don’t be sour.”

“I’m going to tend to my garden. At least the plants don’t talk back!”

Ignoring Misha’s calls, Jensen starts decisively down the hallway leading from his chambers to the small garden that he planted three cycles past when he was called back to Dallasia from his travels to do his duty as prince. The work is rigorous, but quiet, allowing him some measure of peace in his own thoughts. And it’s a project that is altogether his own, and not something even remotely expected of him.

He takes the rather archaic tools out of the pouch that he grabbed on his way out of the room, and drops them into the thick, pungent soil. Dropping to his knees next to them, he takes a moment to just breathe in the slightly humid air and attempt to clear his mind of all his troubles and obligations. Especially ones that pertain to a certain tall Padalecki prince.

The hard work drains the tension from his muscles, and before he knows it, a few hours have passed. The twin suns have just started their descent for the evening, and he will be expected to wash up and present himself at family dinner soon, so he takes a moment to stretch his back with a low groan.

“What are you planting?”

The voice startles Jensen and he falls over until his bottom is firmly in the dirt.

“Dammit, Jared. Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on people?”

Jensen, annoyed that his peaceful reverie was broken, jumps up to restore the proper levels between them. Jared might be taller than him, but at least if Jensen is on his feet, there is a better power balance.

Jared looks momentarily chastened, but covers it up with one of those infuriatingly adorable smiles. “Forgive me, Jensen. I was apparently raised by animals.”

Jensen opens his mouth to respond, before realizing that Jared is teasing him. Jensen instead shoots him his most scathing look and starts collecting his tools to throw back in his satchel.

“You never told me what you are planting,” Jared says, continuing on like Jensen isn’t doing his best to ignore his very presence.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but they are medicinal plants, along with a few flowers unique to Dallasia.”

“Medicinal, huh? Interesting that,” Jared replies, and his smile is much too smug for Jensen’s liking. Just because Jared was once a silly boy with a pouch of herbs, doesn’t mean that he influenced Jensen’s choice in garden occupants even a little bit.

Jensen stops abruptly, Jared nearly bumping into his back as he stops as well. Jensen turns around and looks at Jared sharply. “Look, Jared. I know we have to endure each other, but I still have free will for the next four days, so it will please me if you just left me alone.”

“Your eyes are the color of the sky.”

Jensen’s mouth snaps shut. Jared is staring at him with a strange wonder, and Jensen doesn’t know quite what to say besides, “Excuse me?”
“The green of your eyes. They are almost exactly the same color of the Dallasian sky.”

“I don’t know what that has to do with anything –“

“I know that the color of the sky is just an effect of light refraction, and it’s unique to Dallasia, or at least it’s unique in this galaxy. But the fact that the prince’s eyes match exactly is almost…poetic.”

Jared pauses then, his mouth open like he wants to say more, but instead he just gets a rueful smile on his face and shakes his head slightly. The long shiny chestnut of his hair sways across the sharpness of his cheekbones, and Jensen can’t quite help himself from noticing.

“Wait, how do you know that?” Jensen asks, suddenly confused.

“I studied,” Jared says simply.

“You studied Dallasia?”

“Of course. Did you not learn anything about Padaleck before these festivities?”

Jensen turns away, not wanting Jared to see the tiny bit of shame at his lack of response, and hating himself that he feels any shame at all.

“You didn’t, did you? Huh.” Jared’s voice doesn’t sound accusatory, but Jensen refuses to turn and face him anyway.

Jensen tries to pretend he’s not being a coward when he grabs his satchel of tools and walks briskly from the garden straight back to his chambers.

==

Jensen does his best to avoid Jared over the next few days, but it’s nearly impossible since the man seems to be going out of his way to find Jensen no matter where he decides to hide. The palace itself is huge – surely Jensen should be able to find a nook of his own!

It doesn’t help that Jensen’s mother is doing her best to force the two princes together, even going so far as to have Commander Beaver send his most meddling guards Kane and Hodge out to lead Jared right to him. To make things worse, if he were to be honest with himself, he would admit that his betrothed is not only charming and inquisitive, but also handsome enough to stir something in Jensen that has lain dormant for quite a few cycles.

Jensen tries everything to ignore these feelings, from avoidance to outright mockery, but that backfires on him spectacularly.

It starts when Jared, in his rush to grab Jensen’s attention before he can flee around the corner, trips over his own giant feet and nearly lands face first on the marble.

Jensen can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, before realizing with unease that it’s the first real laugh he’s had since his mother sold him to a foreign monarch.

“I see you are still a clumsy one,” Jensen says, barely realizing what he has given away until he sees Jared’s silly face light up with glee.

“So you do remember me. I knew it!”

Jensen schools his face back into the appropriate scowl and spins around to keep fleeing. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he throws over his shoulder.

“You remember me, Jensen of Dallasia! And don’t you forget it!” Jared calls out, just as Jensen turns the corner.

==

There is one thing that Jensen hasn’t tried, and even though it seems the most extreme, the wedding is set for tomorrow and Jensen is still desperate to prove that he still has some semblance of control over the proceedings.

“Be gone,” Jensen instructs the Padalecki guard stationed outside of Jared’s chamber. The guard just looks at Jensen warily, unsure of what to do with the dueling orders.

Jensen pushes his shoulders back and stands to his own impressive height. “While you are on this soil, you are under my command as the heir to the throne of Dallasia. And I say be gone.”

The guard, cowering under the weight of the command, nods dutifully and scurries off down the hallway. Jensen shakes his head, setting a reminder for himself later to get his new husband a guard with more gumption than that one.

New husband, Jensen thinks to himself, annoyed that the title has already worked its way into his brain, even if he knows that it’s going to be fact the following day. All it does, however, is make him even more determined to follow through with the night’s plan.

With that, he pushes open the door to Jared’s chambers and steps inside without pause, shutting the door behind him with a purposeful bang.

Jared is right in the middle of disrobing, standing in the middle of his chambers wearing nothing but a slip of sleep pants consisting of thin material. His bare chest, strong and robust, glimmers in the soft light of the room as he spins around and looks at Jensen with unmitigated surprise.

Jensen has to swallow hard, his cock fattening up against his will just at the sight of Jared standing there with rumpled hair and a smile.

“Jensen,” Jared says in greeting, moving tentatively forward a few steps. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need you to fuck me,” Jensen says, before he loses all nerve. He tips his chin up defiantly when Jared’s mouth falls open in shock.

“You want me to what?”

“Fuck me, Jared. Please tell me you know how.”

Jared’s eyes narrow at that, and a much more assured smile spreads across his face. “Oh, I know how alright. I’m just wondering why you went from running away when you see me in the hallway to showing up in my chambers at midnight demanding copulation.”

Stubborn fool, Jensen thinks to himself, but he can’t deny that the outline of Jared’s manhood firming itself through the sleep pants is making this idea seem better than it probably is.

“I don’t have to answer to you, not now or tomorrow or the next day,” Jensen insists, although he doesn’t object when Jared steps forward enough so that they are sharing the same heated air space.

Jared looks down at him, and Jensen curses the fact that his betrothed has so much height on him. “No, you don’t, although I am asking you plainly in order to better understand what you want from me.”

“Wasn’t I plain enough?” Jensen replies, gritting his teeth. “I want you to put your cock inside of me. Would you like me to spell it or perhaps an interpretive dance will explain better?”

Jared laughs, but this time it’s a soft, intimate sound that causes tiny puffs of air on Jensen’s face. “That is very plain indeed. But why now? Why not tomorrow night when it is – how did you put it – our duty?”

Jensen’s frustration is growing faster than his penis at this point, so he just spits the words out to shut the bastard up. “Because I’m choosing this. Not my parents, not the High Councilor, not my people – me. Let me have something that I choose, if only for one single night.”

Jared just stares at him, eyes full of understanding and awe, and it’s too much for Jensen to bear. When Jared leans down, Jensen knows that he is going to kiss him, and he can’t have that kind of connection, not now, not like this. Tonight is about taking what he needs, nothing more, nothing less.

“Not that,” Jensen says softly but forcefully, Jared’s lips a breath from his own. He can feel Jared vibrating with the want of it, but he relents, and brings his hands to rest forcefully on Jensen’s body instead.

Jared begins pushing Jensen backwards, until Jensen can feel his knees hit the bed, and the motion takes him down flat on his back. He tenses for a moment as Jared begins looming over him, and it must be visible because Jared stops his movement and stares down at him.

“Are you sure this is what you want, Prince Jensen?” Jared asks, the honorific soft on his tongue.

Jensen looks up at him, trying to find a way to not get lost in the changing colors of Jared’s eyes. Jensen tells himself that this is just another night of pleasure, a romp with an admittedly beautiful man who stirs a physical attraction inside of him. It means nothing more than that, and tomorrow is not a time Jensen cares to think about.

“Let us not be princes tonight, Jared,” is all he says in reply, and he thinks the shimmer in Jared’s eyes might just be approval.

Jared bends down then, and for a moment Jensen thinks he is going in for another kiss. But he doesn’t, his lips instead grazing down the side of Jensen’s jaw and dropping small pecks along the slope of the base of Jensen’s throat.

Jensen tells himself he’s not disappointed by the lack of attempt, and shivers under the ministrations of Jared’s mouth upon his skin.

Jensen is suddenly overheated, from the warmth of the chamber and anticipation of desire, and he fumbles to get his tunic up over his head before throwing it to the ground. Jared, the bastard that he is, just chuckles at Jensen’s struggle, and instead of helping, continues leaning over to suck biting kisses into Jensen’s now bare chest.

Jared continues down, marking a path down Jensen’s belly with both tongue and teeth. His big hands come up to Jensen’s hips, finally being useful as he tugs Jensen’s loose-fitting pants down enough for Jensen’s hardening cock to spring to attention. Without any ceremony besides a hungry lick of his lips, Jared leans down and takes Jensen into his mouth with one great swallow.

“Gods!” Jensen cries out as he arches, back off the bed and his body instinctively pushes into the wet feel of Jared’s mouth all around him.

The exclamation seems to inspire Jared, because he begins to alternate the long, sloppy drags with a pulsing suckling that brings Jensen’s cock to the very brink of eruption.

Jared must sense Jensen’s impending orgasm, because he pulls out with a wet smacking sound and squeezes the base of Jensen’s cock with one giant fist.

Jensen groans, sucking in air, as he feels the tempest abate momentarily. He dares to open his eyes, only to see Jared’s mouth, red and swollen from sucking Jensen’s cock, but twisted into a smile of such openness that Jensen has to close his eyes again to remember why he’s doing this at all.

He feels it then, rather than seeing it, when after a beat, Jared’s palms are lifting Jensen’s bottom in the air so that Jared’s head can lower even further to get at the tiny furl of Jensen’s hole.

Jensen can’t help crying out again when the tip of Jared’s tongue breeches the muscle, seeking entrance that Jensen’s body seems only too willing to give.

Jared continues like that, actions braver as he forces even more of his tongue inside, the smooth sides of it sliding against his inner walls. Jared’s fist still grasps tight to Jensen’s cock, as if he wants to be the one to decide when Jensen’s orgasm will overtake him.

Jensen wants to be annoyed by that, but then Jared pushes the first digit of his other hand right alongside his tongue, and Jensen’s too busy being lost in the pleasure of it.

Just when he thinks he can’t take it much longer, squirming at the end of Jared’s tongue, Jared pulls back completely.

Jensen peeks one eye open, wondering why he stopped, and takes in Jared’s determined face looking around the room.

“What is it?” Jensen asks grumpily.

“We need something more than spit to slick the way. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jensen snorts at that, but Jared’s just raises one eyebrow as he sits back on his haunches and tugs the string of his night pants down to reveal the largest dick Jensen’s ever seen in his entire life.

“My kin are rather… tall folk,” Jared says, voice amused, stroking his already hardened and massive member.

Jensen swallows hard. “There’s a pot of salve in the pocket of my pants. On the floor.”

Jared gives him a surprised look that quickly turns to shrewdness. “Well, aren’t we prepared, hmm?”

Jensen makes a rude noise, and attempts to roll over to get the damn pot himself, but Jared manhandles him back into the middle of the bed and drops a smacking kiss to the side of Jensen’s belly button before reaching down to retrieve their prize.

Jared doesn’t waste time after that, dipping two fingers into the slick and then sliding them into Jensen both at the same time. The muscle is loosened from Jared’s tongue already, but the pleasurable burn of it brings a hiss from Jensen’s lips.

Jared doesn’t stop though, on the contrary, adding a third finger and leaning back over him to take Jensen’s nipple in his mouth and suckle it like a babe until it’s pointed rosy and hot.

“Please, Jared,” Jensen says, hating the way his voice is pleading but unable to keep himself from demanding what he knows is coming.

“Fuck, Jensen, anything,” Jared murmurs in reply, shifting back just enough to grasp his own dick with one sticky hand and begin the slide into Jensen’s body.

Jensen’s legs go up instinctively, ankles banging against the firm meat of the backs of Jared’s thighs to try and bring him even deeper.

Jared responds, slamming home until they are joined as tightly as possible, then stopping for a moment to just grind flesh-to-flesh before starting to move again with long and aggressive strokes.

Jensen prods him on, hands coming up to knead Jared’s biceps, thighs riding tight against Jared’s waist. He begs for more with every grunt and puff of breath, and Jared gives him every bit of what he desires without any more words needing to be spoken.

Jared bends down, and he’s close, so close, to Jensen’s mouth. Jared’s lips open, and Jensen can feel the air hitting his chin. The anticipation is too much and, coupled with one last stroke that hits Jensen’s most pleasurable place dead-on, Jensen spends white all over their bellies.

Jensen catches himself just in time to turn his head before Jared’s mouth can descend upon his own, and Jared growls once before biting down upon Jensen’s shoulder instead and letting his orgasm explode deep inside.

Jensen pants into the pillow and wonders what exactly he has just done.



There’s part of Jared that doesn’t want to wake up, wants to stay here in this bed, safe and warm with Jensen’s body pressed fully against his skin. But then he remembers what day it is, that today is the day that they will be united before their families and their Gods for the rest of their lives, and every night from here on out will be as wonderful as the prior one was.

Or better, he thinks, remembers the way Jensen had held back that last part of himself even has his body sang with pleasure.

Jared’s eyes crack open and he goes to stroke down the length of Jensen’s body. His hand, however, does not touch warm humid skin, but instead cool sheets that belie the fact that Jensen hasn’t occupied them in quite a while.

Jared, dumbfounded, sits up and stares at the empty room before him, feeling more lost than he has since his father perished.

==

The festivities begin in earnest not much later, four body servants and Osric descending on his room to make sure Jared is bathed and perfumed and dressed to gleaming perfection. Jared lets himself be manipulated, numb to the fact that Jensen could spend one beautiful night with him and then leave without a word.

Surely, it must be a mistake? Maybe tradition overtook Jensen after the immediate heat of passion had cooled and he wanted to wait to see him again at the ceremony.

Jared, however lovelorn, isn’t a fool, and the longer the pampering and preparation of the day goes on, the angrier he gets.

He barely glances at his mother or sister when the ceremony starts, focused only on getting to the altar so that he can give Jensen a piece of his mind.

Jared practically stomps up there, barely nodding at High Councilor Richings in his ceremonial gown as he stands ready to perform the marriage rites. Jared goes to open his mouth and potentially embarrass both their planets, when he looks down at Jensen’s perfect face and the speech stutters in his throat.

Jensen’s eyes, those bright sky-colored eyes, are rimmed with smoky kohl, and his plump lips, the ones that moved gracefully over Jared’s body the night before, are shiny with gloss. His expression begs for Jared to hold his tongue, and Jared feels himself unable to deny his soon-to-be husband anything.

The ceremony, for all its pomp and circumstance, and the fact that it’s bringing probable peace to two entire planets, is not that long. Jensen and Jared recite the vows that High Councilor Richings tells them to, pledging to bond together in a lifetime of love and respect.

Jared means it, every word, but even as he watches Jensen’s beautiful mouth say the words, Jared doesn’t quite believe that Jensen feels the same way.

There is so much rage bubbling up inside of Jared at that moment, warring even with the love he feels flushing through his veins. He knows that this is not how he wants their first kiss to be, but he can’t help himself that when Richings declares them wed, Jared grabs Jensen’s stupidly beautiful face in his hands and crushes their mouths together like their very lives depend on it.

He pulls back after a long moment, teeth tugging at Jensen’s bottom lip in defiance, and revels in the look of absolute debauched devastation that crosses Jensen’s face, even if it lasts but a heartbeat.

The receiving line takes three times as long as the ceremony itself, both royal families and their advisers standing to greet the hundred of guests that have traveled from all over the Samulet galaxy to celebrate the supposedly-joyous proceedings. Jared shake various hands, claws, and tentacles, smiling even as he sneaks glances at his new husband to see if he is doing the same.

Jensen is smiling, his expression giving away nothing as he stands there besides Jared but a million miles away.

The reception is next, and again the royal families are escorted to their designated spots to carry out the rest of their duties, even as they down chalices of Dallasian wine and finely made pastries.

Jared, frustrated that he hasn’t been able to get a word in edgewise to his new spouse, finally pounds his glass down on the table and hisses over at him. “Outside, now!”

Jared doesn’t wait to see Jensen’s response, and jumps up to head out to the terrace. He sends the guards a withering stare, and they leave him alone to head out into the night air. It feels like he can barely breathe inside that room, and just being outside has given him some measure of relief.

It takes a minute, and Jared is unsure that Jensen is even going to pay attention enough to give him the courtesy to follow, but finally the door to the terrace opens and he can hear the heavy footsteps of Jensen’s boots.

“Why are you stomping around having a hissy fit? Get back in there and drink the wine like a good prince,” Jensen says, eyes narrowing and arms crossed defensively.

There is so much rage bubbling up inside of Jared that he ends up spitting his next words. “How can you do this to another person, Jensen? How can you come into my room, into my bed, into my arms, and then act like it meant nothing? How can we start a life together when it begins with such cruelty?”

Jared doesn’t get to hear the response, but the shocked look on Jensen’s face is the last thing he remembers as a sudden blow to the back of the head brings nothing but darkness.


CHAPTER TWO