The Pact

Chapter Six

The sun rose over Lawrence on a typical Tuesday morning. A familiar sound woke Sam, something he heard every Tuesday morning--the melody of the tower bells summoning the Winchester guard to court. Normally, they didn't ring until later in the morning, but their early clanging roused a reluctant Sam from a deep, painless slumber.

When his eyes finally fluttered fully open, he slowly rolled his head to the side, knowing he'd see her there, but this morning was different than any other before it; this morning, she would wake up and truly be his wife. His mind recalled the night before, and into the early hours of that morning, rolling around on the floor, making love to the woman he was supposed to despise. The corner of his mouth twitched into an awkward smile as he thought about how she moved her body with his, how she opened up and let him take her. There was a manner of uncontrolled passion that erupted between them, and even then, he was getting hard thinking about it.

The bells rang again, along with the Horn of Gabriel, a much deeper tone that stood out over the sound of the melodic chimes. Sam furrowed his brow, knowing this meant for the guard to assemble quickly. He wondered if there was news from the front lines... from Dean. He looked at his sleeping bride with a last longing look, taking special notice of how her hair spilled out on the pillow around her. Resisting the urge to brush a finger against her cheek, he threw off the covers and didn't think of his hip once as he put his feet on the floor and moved about his chambers to dress for the day.

Just as Sam fastened the last button on his shirt, he heard (Y/N) stirring from behind him.

"Samuel?" she spoke, half asked in a low, sleepy tone. "Where... it's so early." She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and pulled the blanket up to her collarbone, covering her naked breasts.

"Rest," he tutted. "It is early. I need to go to court, the bells are calling the guard. I'm going to check it out, but you can go back to sleep."

"No," she said and sat up further in the bed. "I'll go with you, we should present a united front."

"I appreciate that, (Y/N), but your presence there would be questioned, even by my father. I promise to take it all in and report back." Sam sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. His thumb rubbed the back of her hand for a moment before he spoke. "I'm not trying to leave you out, I swear. I just--"

"It's fine, Sam. I understand. I just wanted to be there to support you. Dealing with your father can't be easy."

"Since he has seen us playing along with whatever their plan is, he's been surprisingly pleasant," Sam said, a small tinge of sarcasm coating his tone.

"Well, he's getting what he wants. Of course he's going to be kind." She paused and gave his hand a little squeeze in return. "Sam, about last night. I--"

A deep, penetrating knock rapped at the door, interrupting her and causing both their heads to snap around. Their eyes met in a questioning glance before Sam released her hand and walked towards the door.

"Sam!" She whispered hoarsely but sharp to gain his attention. "Your cane... appearances and all that."

"Good thinking," he said, half embarrassed that he hadn't thought of that. He scooped up the now unneeded crutch and went to open the chamber door.

As he pulled it open, a member of the Winchester Guard was standing at full attention.

"My Lord, your father, the King, requires your immediate attention. He needs you to come to the War Room without delay," the guard rambled quickly, causing Sam to shake his head and lend a soft smile at the man.

"Slow down... what's wrong? Why are the Court bells ringing so early?"

"Please, Lord Winchester, your father... he--"