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wiseoldowl72 · 11 months

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The Meliai

Dean had his nose in a book as he walked along a path in the Oiti National Park in central Greece. He had always had a fascination with the mythology of the country. After finishing his degree in mechanical engineering, he decided to treat himself to a trip to Greece as a personal graduation present.

He, as usual, while reading, wasn’t paying attention to where he was going and slipped on some loose dirt on the path and fell backward, hitting his head hard on an ash tree. Hard enough that it was lights out for several minutes.

“Are you ok?” A melodic baritone voice said to him.

Dean was still seeing spots in his vision, so he couldn’t tell who was talking to him yet, but that voice… It sounded so otherworldly but yet deep enough, it was grounding.

“Yeah, I think so. Got a bump on the back of my head. I must have hit that tree trunk pretty hard,” Dean tried to laugh, “Serves me right for not looking where I was going. I tend to do that a lot when I’m reading.”

Dean searched around him for the book he was reading. He didn’t want to lose it. He was currently reading an interesting chapter discussing Greek mythology's different types of nymphs.

He felt around to get a sense of where he was. He touched exposed tree roots, felt the bark of the tree he hit (ash, his mind supplied), but grass was underneath his hands. That couldn’t be right. He was sure he slipped on loose dirt.

“You took quite the fall and knocked your head hard on the tree,” The deep, comforting voice said.

Dean was finally able to see the person speaking to him. His body was lithe, willowy, and lean, with olive-colored skin, but the face pulled his attention into focus. Dark brown, almost black hair fell over his forehead as he looked down at Dean on the ground, but it was long enough to slightly curl over his ears and at the nape of his neck. The sharp jawline with a slight dimple in the chin was so smooth Dean wanted to reach up and touch his jaw and cheek. He also wondered if the man’s hair was as soft as it looked.

The feature that stood out the most was the striking ocean-blue eyes that kept looking Dean over for injuries. Dean was immediately lost in the eyes that looked like the water at the Grecian coast he had visited days before. He couldn’t tear his own eyes away from the striking blues ones.

“This isn’t where I fell,” Dean said, “The path I was on was only well-used and tree-lined.”

He thought for a few moments more, “Where is my book? I was reading when I fell.”

“I didn’t see anything lying around you when I found you,” the mysterious man replied, “You were just next unconscious next to the tree when I arrived,” Dean swore he looked like a Greek god.

Dean stood up to get a better idea of where he was and saw the differences between the hiking path on the mountain he knew he was on a moment ago and what his eye showed him now. He took in that the trees he stood in lined a small meadow. A stream was behind him that tumbled over rocks, making small waterfalls as the current carried the water downstream. He was disoriented because this definitely wasn’t the same place he previously was in.

“Where am I?” Dean asked, “This doesn’t look like the path I was on before I fell. I do remember hearing water, but it wasn’t this close. I was on a hiking path on the mountain.”

“You are on Mount Oita in Greece. It’s also called the ‘Mountain of Flowers’ and is the home of Hercules,” The elegant beautiful man said as he stood as well. He tilted his head slightly like he didn’t understand the other man's words.

“Ok, Give me just a moment. You’re definitely not dressed like anyone I’ve seen,” Dean remarked, “Unless they are cosplaying.”

He wore a tunic of thin, light green fabric, cut as to not to hinder his movement. A leather belt at his waist showed off his narrow waist, and held a knife with a leather sheath. His legs were bare, and he wasn’t wearing any leggings but had sandals on his feet.

Dean probably looked as different from the man’s perspective. Dean had chosen jeans that ripped at the knees, a white t-shirt, a thin flannel, and steel-toed hiking boots. Not that the boots had helped when he fell. Not looking where you are going was just plain a mistake on his part.

“Hi, I’m Dean. I figure we’ve been staring and talking enough that it was time to be properly introduced,” Dean said politely as he held out his hand.

The man looked at Dean oddly and at the outstretched hand like he hadn’t ever seen that gesture before.

“I’m Castiel, and this is my grove,” the man replied, keeping his arms at his sides.

“What do you mean that this is your grove?” Dean questioned.

“I watch over the flora and fauna in this area. The honey created from the bees' pollen collected from this grove must be perfect. The trees and other plant life must be in prime condition,” Castiel made a gesture that took in the entire grove, ”The sap from ash trees in my grove and the honey are fed to the Meliai, who nurse Zeus’ offspring. I also make spears from the ash trees.”

“You happen to be in my favorite part of the grove. I relax here often,” Castiel casually remarked, “The stream is so peaceful to listen to.”

The soothing sound of the bubbling and rippling stream as it flowed in waterfalls over the river rocks caught Dean’s attention, and he turned to look at it for the first time.

"Let me get this straight; you are the protector of this grove, provide honey and ash sap to Zeus’ nymph nurses? And you make ash spears?” Dean confirmed.

“Yes, that is correct,” Castiel nodded and verified, “My spears always fly straight and true.”

“I must have really hit my head,” Dean mumbled to himself and scratched the back of his neck.

“You don’t believe me,” Castiel declared.

“No, I don’t. You look like you came from a Con, talking about ash sap and honey being vital to feed nymphs for Zeus? That sounds like it came from the mythology book I was reading when I slipped,” Dean exclaimed.

“Show care to which of and to whom you speak,” Castiel said.

“Why should I? I was just out on a leisurely hike, slipped, and now you stand in front of me looking like an illustration out of my book. Dean frantically looked at the ground around his feet, “ And I can’t even find my book!” He huffed.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dean. Would you like to look around my grove to see if that makes it seem real to you?” Cas asked, “What is this word ‘cosplay’ you keep using? Are you referring to my clothing?”

“Well, cosplaying is dressing up like a fictional figure and hanging out with others dressed up too and having fun,” Dean started to explain.

Catiel looked at him quizzically.

“And uh, sometimes a group will dress up together and play that they are from a certain era in history, comic book characters, video game characters, or even dressed up like tv characters from shows,” Dean tried to describe the world of cosplay, but felt like he was digging himself into a hole by the looks of non-understanding that Castiel giving him.

“And, well, you picked a costume out of Greek mythology, and you are talking about nymphs, so where is the event?”

“There isn’t any event that I have heard about from the gods or my fellow nymphs, so I don’t know what you are referring to,” Castiel replied.

“And I wanted to ask you why you are dressed so strangely. The leggings are ripped and stiff, and your upper body garments go down to your wrists and are tight-fitting. How are you supposed to move easily in your clothing? What is on your feet? They completely enclose them. How are you not too hot?”

“This is just what I always wear,” Dean answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Obviously, you don’t live here and aren’t any kind of immortal or special creature that I have ever heard of or met,” Castiel acquiesced, “So what or who are you, Dean? Might we continue this discussion as we walk around the grove? I need to check on my hives.”

“Whatever you say man, this place is really pretty. I’m up for more walking,” Dean looked over at Castiel to let him take the lead, and they started walking out of the trees into the meadow.

“I’m still unsure where ‘here’ is, but I live in Kansas. I decided to come to Greece because I’ve always been interested in the mythology and history of the country.” Dean said.

“I’ve never heard of Kansas before,” Castiel admitted.

“You are in Greece, on Mount Oiti. You are in a sacred grove that normal humans are not allowed to visit because it provides food and weapons to the gods, deities, and those of us touched by the gods. I am also a Meliai, but since I am a man, I cannot nurse or give birth.” Cas explained.

“I was given the sacred task to protect the home of those that provide for the Meliai nurses. Since their nourishment is ash tree sap and honey, my job is to collect the sap and honey and prepare it for them. Another of my kind makes the actual delivery. I can not leave the area which I protect. I am a part of this grove. Every living thing here has a piece of me inside it.”

“If that’s the case, even though your grove looked a lot different to me a few minutes ago, the ash trees are still there, and I heard the stream. The meadow is new to me,” Dean continued to take in his surroundings.

“It’s very beautiful. I love seeing the wildflowers. This whole place has a feeling of safety about it,” Dean said offhandedly, “I noticed it while on the hiking path, but the feeling is stronger here with you.”

“That’s because I was born of Earth Mother Gaea. I am part of the living earth. Everything that grows or ingests anything the earth provides has a piece of me in it. I can feel the ebb and flow of nature in this grove. It was what brought me to you. You are not supposed to be in this place, Dean,” Castiel turned and looked right into Dean’s grass-green eyes with flecks of gold throughout them.

“Look, all I know is that I slipped on some loose dirt, probably hit the tip of my boot on a tree root, and fell, knocking my head on the ash tree along the way. I blacked out and woke up here.” Dean said defensively.

“I guess for whatever reason, Mother Geae believes you are not a threat here and welcome. That is all I need to know,” Castiel capitulated, “Let us go check the hives and gather honey.”

Dean and Castiel walked through the meadow full of wildflowers buzzing with bees, the sun shone in a bright blue sky, and it was remarkably peaceful. Dean rarely felt this kind of peace.

He was always working too hard, either trying to ace his exams, working at the auto shop making iron creations come back to life with the classic cars he worked on, making enough money to pay the rent and have enough food to eat, and trying to keep some kind of relationship with his brother.

Honestly, Dean’s life had become lonely over the last few years. Sam was a successful attorney with a wife and kids. He seemed to have little time for Dean. Now that they ran in different social circles.

Between all that had gone on in his life, he’d forgotten what it was like to look out over a meadow of wildflowers with just the sounds of nature to breathe, take in their beauty, and listen to the birdsong from trees in the grove. Dean couldn’t remember when he’d heard a robin sing at home or listened to a rushing stream. He wondered what other wildlife lived here.

They walked through the meadow without speaking. It was disconcerting to Dean because he was used to talking with others, even if just simple niceties. Castiel seemed only to speak when necessary, but his voice did things to Dean. It made the swirl of butterflies low in his abdomen come to life. The man was just a picture of a perfect male body. It was as if his likeness had been used on the archeological remnants Dean had been looking at in his book.

In the quiet, Dean took time to admire his companion. He had to admit the gracefulness with which the man moved his body was a turn on for him. That just made the butterflies worse. Dean hadn’t been attracted to a man like this in years.

He had spent so much time trying to make enough money to earn his degree, working hours restoring cars, and paying his rent that it didn’t leave much time for dating. It didn’t mean his eyes hadn’t stopped looking, though. He never found someone that would click with him and his needs.

Castiel was right that this place was unique and perfect in its own way. Dean had never been into bees but looked forward to seeing Castiel’s hives. He didn’t know how ancient Greeks kept them. He knew the modern methods and wondered how Castiel’s differed.

Near the other side of the meadow were simple wicker baskets set up on wooden tables. Castiel removed the top of one of the baskets to begin harvesting honey. Dean was surprised that the setup wasn’t much different than the wooden hives he’d seen at apiaries at home. The top of the conical baskets contained vertical wooden frames from which Castiel removed the honey.

It was a sticky process of cutting off pieces of the combs and placing them into baskets to be pressed to extract pure honey that was placed in clay pots for eventual delivery to the Meliai. Dean was used to seeing beekeepers with mesh hats and smoking pots to keep from being stung, but Castiel moved about the hives and bees as if they were one. Neither seemed to care the other was there.

Dean kept a reasonable distance because this all felt a bit unsettling. Dean had a healthy respect for things that had stingers, but Castiel motioned him forward to see how his hives were set up close up.

“I think I’m safer back here. I don’t want to get stung,” Dean justified his distance, “I’ve watched beekeepers at home, and they wear mesh headgear and smokers before retrieving the honey.“

“Come here, Dean. There is no need for anything like that here. As I said, I am part of all living things. They will not sting you if you are with me,” Castiel countered.

Cas ran his finger along the bottom edge of one of the combs and gathered fingers full of fresh honey. He motioned to Dean to come close to him.

“Here, taste the ambrosia of the gods,” Castiel offered.

He moved his fingers to Dean’s lips, first swiping a small strip of honey along Dean’s lower lip. This caused him to lick his lips and wantonly moan at the smooth texture and earthy but floral taste. He found himself opening up his mouth as Castiel put his fingers inside to give him the full experience of the taste and texture of raw honey.

Dean grabbed Castiel’s wrist, holding it near his mouth as he sucked the sticky substance off each finger before giving the man back his hand. Dean immediately missed the heat and closeness of Castiel’s hand near his face.

As his mind tried to comprehend why, he found himself longing for more of the honey. It had a taste he had never experienced before. It was as if a whole spectrum of color had blasted through his tastebuds where all the honey he’d previously had was like a black-and-white movie in comparison.

At the same time, he didn’t want to let go of the man in front of him. He’d never seen anyone so magnificent. From his dark hair with one piece that fell on his forehead to his piercing blue eyes that seemed to look into your soul. It took everything he had not to reach forward, run his hands through the messy locks, feel the skin on his cheeks and jaw, and kiss his plush lips.

In the end, the men were standing close enough that Dean couldn’t resist the temptation in front of him and brought his hand up to Castiel’s cheek and asked, “Is this ok?”

He felt a pull toward this odd man who was from a different world from him. He didn’t know how he got here or exactly where he was, but he knew this moment felt right, and what he was doing felt right.

“Yes, Dean, you are a beautiful man with constellations of stars across your cheekbones and nose. I was drawn to your eyes the moment I saw them and asked Mother Gaea for strength not to act upon my desire to touch you. Your physique is one that would be honored among the gods. We Maliai are tactile and enjoy intimacy. Even one such as you, who is not a part of our world, does not keep me from wanting to touch or kiss you.” Castiel whispered.

Dean slowly stepped forward to close the distance between the two men and reverently kissed Castiel while holding his jaw gently between his hands. Castiel drew his tongue across the seam of Dean’s lips, gently asking to deepen the kiss. Dean reciprocated, and soon the men worshipped each other’s mouths, with the sweet taste of silken honey acting as an aphrodisiac, making the kiss more intense and passionate.

Dean shut his eyes and was lost in the taste of Castiel, a wood nymph of ancient Greece. The synapses in his brain momentarily went offline in the joy his body was experiencing.

The next moment Dean came to lying at the base of the ash tree on the hiking trail he had slipped on. He looked up and saw ash leaves and branches. The meadow was gone. The beehives were gone, and most importantly, Castiel was gone. He briefly had no idea where he was, when in time he was, and what had happened between the kiss and this moment.

He patted himself down, felt the back of his head, and found a lump where he had hit the tree. Next to him was his mythology book. The one he was missing when he woke up (or was it all a dream) the last time.

At that moment, a park employee knelt beside him and asked what had happened.

“I was reading my book, then slipped on some loose dirt and fell into this ash tree. It knocked me out for just a few seconds,” Dean explained. He didn’t say anything about his experience with the ancient Greek he interacted with.

The man kneeling next to him looked a lot like Castiel. They had the same dark hair, creamy olive skin, and ocean-blue eyes. Instead of the Castiel that Dean had dreamed(?) of, this man was dressed in a park employee uniform with a radio on his utility belt.

“Here, let’s get you to the closest park station and look you over for any injuries,” the man suggested.

“No, I’m fine,” Dean said, unsure of his surroundings or what had happened to him in his recent memory.

“I don’t think I need to be looked over. I’d rather continue on my walk. Possibly see where that water I hear is coming from.” Dean politely declined the request, shaking his head.

“No, I must insist you come in and be checked over. It’s park policy to keep all visitors safe,” The park employee replied.

“If you think it’s necessary,” Dean decided not to protest.

Dean stood and brushed the loose dirt off his jeans. He retrieved his book from the forest floor, and was ready to follow the employee when the man stood, reached out to shake Dean’s hand, and introduced himself.

“I’m Castiel. What’s your name?” The man said.

#The Clown Car #The Winchester Way #TWW Weekly Prompts #TWW Writes #TWW fanfic friday #my writing #fiction #greek mythology #Destiel #supernatural

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