Lionheart

Chapter Four

Dean stumbled across the deck and hung limply over the railings. As soon as the ship was at full sail Dean had begun to feel queasy, and spent much of the first day vomiting over the side of the ship. He'd seen the same, almost sympathetic expression on the King's face, but it only made him feel worse. Most of the crew tried different things to make him feel better, including feeding him chunks of plain bread and making him lie flat on the deck. None of it helped, and eventually, Castiel suggested he get some rest.

Sleeping didn't help either, and he woke up just as ill as he had been the night before.

He dressed slowly and once he was out of the cabin, Alfie suggested they spar, under the impression that focusing on something else would help. He only managed a few blows before he dropped his sword and heaved.

The spray from the waves on his face was so far the only thing that made him feel marginally better, and Castiel joined him at the railing after a while.

Castiel was completely comfortable, feet planted firmly on the deck. He hadn't fallen or even stumbled once, and he strode around confidently. Dean shot him a brief, resentful look before the movement of the ship once again churned his stomach. He retched emptily, having nothing left to vomit.

'You look like you're suffering,' said Castiel.

'Not at all, I do this for fun,' Dean croaked, wiping sweat from his face with a shaking hand.

'This is your first time on a real ship?'

'What makes you say that?'

Castiel rolled his eyes. 'My first time was terrible. I couldn't even get out of bed. This should help.'

He put a hand on Dean's shoulder and warmth spread through him, dissolving his nausea and clearing his head.

Dean stood up straight up, blinking, and looked at Castiel. He was slightly paler than before and had clasped his hands together. Dean could only manage a surprised stammer with no actual words.

'A Lionheart should be sharp and prepared,' said Castiel, leaning against the railing. 'I can't have you hanging over the side of the ship the whole time. It wouldn't exactly be a good impression when we reach Allinesse either.' He pulled a small piece of bread from his pocket and slowly nibbled it.

Dean clamped his mouth shut. Questions swirled in his mind. He was almost certain that the King had just healed him, but he knew he couldn't ask about such a sensitive subject where anyone could hear him. The King, however, was looking queasy himself. 'Are - are you all right?' he asked, leaning closer to Castiel to keep his voice low.

'I'm fine thank you, Dean,' Castiel said, with the faintest hint of a smile.

Dean forced himself not to stare and looked back out at the ocean. Then movement below them, where the waves hit the ship, caught his eye. He tilted his head to get a better look at the swirling blackness painting the water beneath them. 'What's that?' he asked, pointing at it.

Castiel peered at it, then leapt away from the railings. 'Captain!' he yelled, sprinting across the deck. 'Kraken!'

'Where?' the captain asked, emerging from the captain's quarters.

'Under our starboard side!'

The captain began barking orders. 'Load the ballistae! Tether yourselves down! You, get down from that crow's nest now!'

Everyone leapt into action. The King's guard all burst onto the deck at the call, swords drawn, and helped load the huge, deadly bolts. The crew raised the sails to try and minimise any damage to the delicate cloth.