An Appreciation for the Sun (2 of 4)


For this prompt, I enlisted the help of @nightmares06​ for the role of Castiel. I’m not very good at writing characters that I didn’t create, but this prompt was so cute that I couldn’t just dismiss it out of hand.


Out here, among the trees and flowers and the wind, all on her own, Rischa thought she might have a better understanding for why Bowman couldn’t stop flying. He didn’t practice his Prayers very much, but flying filled him with the same feeling, Rischa just knew it.

The girl wove her way among the flowers, picking up petals or leaves here and there to brush a hand along the soft foliage. The sweet scent attracted bees and butterflies above, and Rischa watched the insects drift from flower to flower. They were happy for the nice day, too.

Her shoes pressed lightly in the moss as she wended her way through the flowerbed, and eventually Rischa began to hum again. Her singing voice was strong like her mother’s, clear like a bell and living up to the Songbird name.

A directionless tune floated past her lips and Rischa danced softly among the flowers, letting her connection to the Lady of Life open like she was welcoming a friend. In truth, she was. Her braids, intertwined with supple green blades of grass, flew in the air with every turn as she frolicked.

It was when Castiel decided to leave the forest behind that he heard the song.

He paused, his wings outstretched for flight, and tried to listen harder. The wind rustled feathers that no human could see unless he let them, briefly trying to lift him away from the ground regardless of his wishes.

The song was haunting, but earthly. It wove a distinct contrast to the song of the angels that always remained in the back of his mind, their own way of communication that stretched beyond the barrier of space. It was the only way they could stay in touch as a race when the mission called for them to be on the other side of the planet, sometimes for years upon years on end. He himself had not returned to his home in heaven in over a millenia, serving at his brothers and sisters side without complaint.

Curiosity made him fold his wings back down into nothingness.

There were no humans close by in the forest. All he could sense was some campers near the human lands some miles away. They would never know he had been in the area, and he wanted to keep it that way. His directionless wanderings while he tried to unravel the contradicting lines of thought would not be disturbed by the people he was supposed to be protecting.

With all that in mind, he continued his march through the forest. This time, he had a direction and a purpose. To discover what was out in the serene landscape.

Not far away, the singing faltered and stopped. Rischa halted her dancing and stared at the ground with a concentrated frown. It was faint, but it grew a little each time. She knew that feeling. Rhythmic tremors in the ground accompanied every visit from a human.

She almost fluttered into the air to greet them, thinking that soon one of the few human allies to Wellwood might stomp into view. They were giants, but Rischa had always been able to tell that they were good. Her wings were unfurled before she realized something.

She could feel the approach not only in the ground but in traces of the aura around them. Her brow pinched in deeper concentration. Normally, the closer someone came to her, the better she could make sense of the feelings that danced around them. Whatever giant approached only became more confusing.

Rischa thought of her time spent in the hands of a madman. Even his emotions weren’t anywhere near as chaotic as whatever she was getting from the newcomer. She looked up, between stalks of grass and flowers, and tried to see who it was.

He was easy to spot. Pale skin, disheveled black hair, and a long light brown coat ensured that the human would never blend in among the trees and grass. Rischa’s breath quickened. The stranger walked with a steady gait right towards her.

Humans’ long legs carried them swiftly. This man was no exception. Rischa didn’t want to risk revealing herself to him, so she stayed on the ground with her heart fluttering in growing uncertainty and worry. The fact that she couldn’t read his intent among the swirling maelstrom of his aura made her feel blind. It had never happened before.

Rischa had no way to find out if this giant had ill intent or not. He definitely had a look about him that confused her. The look on his face spoke of experience, but experience with what she could hardly begin to fathom. He was coming closer.

Bereft of her usual gift and the calm it provided, an instinct to hide came roaring into her head. Rischa didn’t know what else to do. She shuddered and tucked herself among a thick tuft of grass and flowers, relying on her wings and clothes to conceal her.

Castiel paused for a moment to take in the world around him. The song had vanished, swallowed by a warm breeze as it rustled through the grass. His search had stalled for a moment as he sought a new direction.

Humans weren’t close to him in the forest, and the song voice had been soft for one of them. Not many could hope to duplicate such a sound.

With that in mind, he turned his search inward, letting his sense slowly surge forth as he collected himself at his center. Part of having a vessel meant his normal senses were dampened, but he could still reach out if he concentrated, the same as he could still fly if he wanted to. It was how he kept in touch with his brothers and sisters, and kept a steady eye on those Winchesters even as they insisted on getting into constant trouble with what Uriel deemed as unimportant little wastes of time.

His search ended as he heard an out of place rustle in the flowers and the grass. It was caused by no animal, and as he listened closer, he could hear the steady beat of dainty wings. Castiel twisted in place, staring right at where the sound was coming from.

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