An Appreciation for the Sun (3 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. 


Rischa had to clap her hands over her mouth to avoid letting out a cry of alarm. He can’t see me … can he? Her eyes were fixed on the giant’s face above. She still couldn’t make sense of anything she read from him. All she knew was that he’d whirled and turned his striking blue eyes right towards her.

She didn’t know what to do. Rischa had only ever met a few humans before. One was nice to her without question. Another had nearly crushed her in his hand. This man could do either.

Rischa was all alone in her decision. She had stupidly thought she’d be fine coming out here on her own. If things turned out okay, she could laugh it off with Bowman later. But if they didn’t and this giant wasn’t one of the good ones, anything could happen. He could try to take her away.

Rischa kept her hands over her mouth to hide the sound of her frightened breathing, and remained as still as she could among the flowers. She couldn’t risk flying away; she wasn’t fast enough.

Castiel was contemplative. He still didn’t know what he was dealing with, but it didn’t seem dangerous… not in the way a witch or a ghoul was, or even a human could be. All of those could cause damage whether they meant to or not.

“I know that you’re hiding, little one,” he said to the field at large. His piercing blue eyes didn’t waver. More than once, that gaze had made lesser men look away from him. It also served to rile certain humans up when they refused to relent. “But I don’t recognize what you are.”

Rischa’s breath caught. She blinked rapidly, casting around in her mind for an explanation. She wondered if maybe the man had seen her dive for cover. But then again, he might have just come right for her if he did.

What she did know for certain was that he hadn’t made any moves against her, despite knowing she was there. Rischa lowered her hands from her mouth and took a deep breath. She couldn’t make sense of the intent around this man, but she had to hope that she wasn’t in as much danger as she originally thought. She couldn’t feel anything malicious about him, at least, even if that gaze was powerful and intimidating.

Before she could scare herself out of it, Rischa reached out a hand and pushed some grass aside so she could lean forward, her face framed by green and the soft pastel colors of the flowers around her. “I … I don’t recognize what you are, either, so I guess we match.”

Castiel’s piercing blue eyes found the tiny girl that was peering out at him instantly. Her size, though not unexpected from what he’d sensed, still caught him off guard.

“I am Castiel,” he introduced himself levelly. “An angel of the Lord. I thought I was familiar with all of my Father’s creation, but I may have been mistaken.” His brow furrowed. Not knowing seemed to be a theme of his time on earth in this new vessel. He didn’t know what to do with the Righteous Man, he didn’t understand Uriel’s resistance to working with the humans.

And now he didn’t know what he was looking at, bare feet away.

Rischa leaned out further, confusion on her face. She glanced over the tall man, but his appearance didn’t help explain any of his words. With a sigh, she ducked back and let the grass spring into place again, concealing her. But in a second she rounded the patch to take a few hesitant steps forwards, timidly staring up at Castiel.

“Castiel, my name’s Rischa Songbird,” she greeted, offering him a polite curtsy. Her hands clasped in front of herself then, and her wings fanned slowly open and closed. She refrained from taking flight for the moment, though the temptation was strong to put herself closer to his eye level.

“I don’t know what an angel is,” she confessed sheepishly. “But I guess there’s a lot of people out there who don’t know what a wood sprite is, so don’t feel bad.” All of that said, Rischa smiled a more genuine smile, though it was still shy.

“Wood sprite,” he repeated, almost to himself. He wondered distantly if hunters had ever run into wood sprites. It wouldn’t be the first time discovering something not of his Father’s Creation. The other gods and goddesses were always up to trouble back in the days when their powers were stronger. The coming of Jesus had weakened that, allowing the other gods to be chased to the corners where they belonged.

This small girl didn’t feel anything like they had, though.

“Angels are protectors of Mankind,” he informed her kindly. “We watch over the world. I have been with my garrison since Creation. Though I have never met any ‘wood sprites’ before.”

Rischa nodded thoughtfully. She still couldn’t make sense of the aura around Castiel, but she began to think that it might be part of his nature to be that way. It was strange, but she could still be as polite to him as he was to her.

Tired of craning her neck back to look at him, Rischa spread her leafy wings and, with a few flaps, got herself into the air. She flew in a tight, measured spiral upwards until she could over closer to Castiel’s eye level to continue their very strange and interesting conversation.

“I don’t know how long ago the world was made, but I guess that would mean you’ve been here a very long time,” she surmised. “But I think we try to stay hidden on purpose. The humans are very big, after all.”

Castiel nodded, watching the small girl flutter with curious blue eyes. “They don’t mean to be,” he said in return, thinking of the humans he was most familiar with. “It is simply how they were made.” Even Jimmy, whose body and mind he shared, was interested in the tiny girl that revealed herself to them. Dean and Sam would be the same, though it was questionable if their interest would be so innocent. Hunters saw the world through shaded lenses of danger, and could act precipitously if they thought they needed to.

Especially Dean.

“Humans have grown taller as time went on,” Castiel mused out loud. “I remember a time when anyone who stood over six feet tall was considered a ‘giant,’ though humans love to exaggerate, even back then.” The battle of David and Goliath was particularly interesting in modern context considering the ‘giant’ had only topped out at 6’5”. Time and legend had grown his stature with every telling.

That made Rischa giggle. “Well, I would have to agree with them even now,” she admitted. Indeed, though she’d grown some in the last few years, Rischa was small like any sprite. She doubted she’d stand as tall as Castiel’s finger if they were to compare. She only stood at three inches, and doubted she would reach the lofty four.

She inched just a little closer, more at ease with each passing second of simple, easy conversation. Castiel might not be human, and he might be very tall regardless, but he was nice. He hadn’t once grabbed at her, and he didn’t seem like he was going to, even though Rischa couldn’t read his emotions like she could most people’s. They were saturated and foreign, like colors she’d never seen before and for which she had no name.

“I’m not sure why sprites are small, either,” she mused. “I don’t know if we’ve gotten bigger or smaller over time. But my cousin Bowman is a lot taller than me. A whole inch, actually.”

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