Summary: Emissary Stiles Stilinski returns to Beacon Hills to find that the Hale pack has been destroyed, except for Derek Hale.
Info: 4k | General | Emissary!Stiles, Alpha!Derek, Canon Divergent, Polish!Stiles
Notes: In less than 5K words, DiscontentedWinter manages to re-write Season 1 in the most exciting, most satisfying, most magical way with all the good stuff – soul bonding, Stilinski family feels, magic, Polish folklore, Claudia feels and BAMF!Stiles. ::bows down:: -S
Sneak Peek:
Stiles Stilinski arrives back in Beacon Hills the week before his sixteenth birthday.
He is late.
His father picks him up from the bus station, and Stiles hugs him tiredly and tries not to notice how much older he looks. It’s been five years since Stiles saw him last. Five years since the family convinced John Stilinski that a trip to Poland was just what Stiles needed to get over his mother’s death, and just what John needed to sort himself out. Stiles remembers packing for a few weeks, but it’s been five years.
His dad no longer smells like whiskey.
He no longer smells like home either.
Stiles stares out the window of his dad’s cruiser at the familiar streets of Beacon Hills. Familiar, but somehow brand new. Things aren’t exactly how he remembers them. Sometime in the last five years his memories have faded, have cracked around the edges. They’re flawed. They’re false in entirely unimportant ways that make Stiles worry that maybe none of his memories can be trusted, and that everything he’s ever thought he knows is build on a shifting foundation of sand.
The fire hydrant is on the other side of the intersection than he remembers. The book store has a red awning, not a blue one. The house at the end of the street has two stories, not one. Tiny things, but a ball of anxiety sits heavily in his stomach. How can this be home when it didn’t even stick in his memory right?
How can this be home when Stiles knows he speaks with a slight accent now? When sometimes the first word he thinks is Polish, not English. How can this be home when his dad steals glances at him like he’s a stranger?
Stiles is a stranger, and he is set on a stranger path than his dad could possibly know.
“There are no absolutes, Scott! No hard rights or hard wrongs! The world doesn’t fucking work that way and we can’t afford to think like that, because people are going to die! We signed up for that the moment we got involved with all this!”
“We? We?” Scott hisses. “Don’t you think you? Don’t forget that you’re the one who dragged us into that forest the night it all started, Stiles. So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”
Something inside Stiles cracks, so strong and so deep that he practically hears it.
Mage!Stiles once again. I was inspired after I finally saw Doctor Strange and thought how cool it would be if Stiles did magic kind of like that. But I made his magic look more like lightning coz of the whole spark thing.
“Thank you for keeping him safe, Aren.” Derek tried not to laugh at the way Stiles was rubbing his face into the flower bed he apparently thought was very comfortable. “I came as fast as I could. I swear none of us had any idea he had Fae blood in his family.”
Aren, tall and lithe and supple like the willow she was apparently named for, nodded seriously. “It is understandable. His family is recently from the old countries. His Fae blood is strong, though. He should soon be taught to control what he has now awakened.”
Derek blinked at that. “Strong? How strong?”
Aren tilted her head to the side and looked past Derek’s shoulder, as if the fact that Stiles was star-fishing naked in a bed of flowers he’d apparently conjured was answer enough. Derek blinked again. It probably was enough.
“Your mate’s reaction is this strong to the nectar because he is strong with Fae blood. A human with a small amount of the old blood will feel happy after drinking our nectar. The reaction grows with the level of our blood that they share. It’s…” She looked sideways and her eyes went unfocused for a moment. She snapped her head back and stared into Derek’s eyes. “It affects neither full Fae nor full human, but those of a mix, well… It is inversely proportional in its strength.”
Derek held back the growl he felt rising in his throat. The elf was not challenging him with the direct gaze, and she wasn’t laughing at Stiles. There was no reason to be upset. In fact, there was every reason to keep Aren and her kin as friendly as possible. “So a pure human would not react to the wine, but a human that has strong Fae heritage… “ He turned and looked at Stiles. The not-so-human-actually was now on his back. He was still starfishing. His cock was hard and standing proud and swaying back and forth with the movement of the rest of his body. “Was this a test?”
Aren raised a long, thin eyebrow. She smiled, her pointed teeth a pale, pearlescent green in the light from the moon. “Not a test, I swear, wolf. Simply a pleasant surprise for us. He does need lessons, of course. The nectar’s effect will last only a few hours. Once he’s regained his full faculties, we’ll examine what his ability to naturally steer his gifts is, and just what they might be. If he was Fae born we’d know by the mix of his parent’s blood. As he’s human born, it could be anything.”
“And until then? Should I, um.” Derek had no idea what to do with his other half. Stiles had come to the meeting with the Fae as he wasn’t shifter or banshee or anything other than human. As someone completely mundane, his presence was supposed to be the least offensive to the fӕries’ sensibilities. Derek should probably just take him home, even if they hadn’t taken the reveal as an insult.
“Until the morning, wolf, you’ll need to take care of his needs. He’s made a bed of flowers upon which to pleasure you, it would be rude of you to refuse.”
Derek opened his mouth and managed one whole word. “He…?” A bed of flowers upon which to pleasure… He contained his need to blurt out, What?
Aren’s smile grew wider and she flicked out a hand. The other elves in the clearing disappeared. “We’ll not disturb you, I swear. When Mieczysław’s old blood awakened he gained the knowledge of his clans. He’s created you a bed of flowers upon which to properly consummate your binding.” Derek was pretty sure they’d already consummated their everything several times in just the last week, let alone in the two and a half years they’d officially been together. Aren laughed. It was light and Derek could see why people likened the humor of elves to the peeling of bells. “This is about more than just physicality, Derek Hale. He wishes to cement your connection. He wants to make those promises the two of you both desire but have not had the courage to ask each other for. His old blood is stronger than human or even wolf.”
Derek wanted to go through the traditions his family had always followed: the run, the mate declaration, and mark and… He’d never brought it up with Stiles because, well. How do you tell your very human boyfriend you want to chase him naked through the woods, knot him, and bite him, till death do you part? He knew that Stiles was aware of the traditions, Peter had made sure to make a big fuss over giving him that book. Stiles had never mentioned it to Derek, though. Silence wasn’t a wonderful invitation.
Derek couldn’t be certain. He couldn’t take part in some kind of supernatural marriage thing without Stiles being completely sober and consenting, at least to start with. “I can’t, he’s not himself.”
“Touch him, Derek Hale. Take his hand and he’ll show you what you need to know. His judgement, on this, is not impaired. He can’t speak with his mouth right now, but he can with his mind.” Aren took a step back and motioned towards Stiles, still rolling in the flowers. “Just take his hand.”
Derek blinked again, and Aren was also gone.
He stepped closer to Stiles, and Stiles looked up at him and smiled wider and brighter than should be possible when he was off his face on some kind of faery liquor.
“Stiles you’re,” his eyes were wide and so open and even they were the happiest Derek could remember seeing them. “You are seriously high, aren’t you.” Derek reached out his hand and hoped that Stiles understood he should take it. “I’m kinda worried that you have no idea what I’m saying right now.”
Stiles grabbed his hand and,
There’s plenty I don’t understand, but I do understand this. Lie with me, Derek. Lie with me and let me make you mine. Then tomorrow I can run, and you can make me yours.
Derek couldn’t speak. He opened his mouth to, but no sound came out.
Stiles smiled some more.
I have no way of explaining this but to share how I feel. Here, Derek was hit with a wall of warm and love and want and desire and need to protect and laughter all at once, this is what I feel. Come, lie with me, Sourwolf. We’ve been putting this off for far too long.
Derek understood. He let himself be pulled into the flowers, and only had a moment’s wonder at the fact that his clothes disappeared as he kneeled down.
Here is your magical gift, Spark Stiles training in Derek’s loft, Derek is obviously having the time of his life. I hope you like it and happy holiday.
shealwaysreads 