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The Fortune

Chapter Text

A piece of the Kingdom was lost the night Queen Claudia pasted away, leaving behind a broken father and son. The exact same night a house fire occurred, leaving survivors homeless and raw inside. King Stilinski proposed that the Hales come make a new life at the castle with them after hearing the dreadful news.

King Stilinski later remarried a close friend of the family, Melissa McCall. Stiles and Scott had been best friends for as long as they could remember. They were never happier to become step-brothers. Scott showed little interest in the throne, and worked restlessly to earn Grand Master of the Chivalric Order. Derek, Cora, Malia and Peter first became intrigued by the Chivalric Order during a fencing tournament between two knights. All four trained to be knights. Since then, it was decided that Stiles would inherit the crown.

Scott and Derek grew to be good friends, making Stiles and Derek all too familiar with each other. Scott would often try to hang out with them at the same time - hoping a friendship would soon blossom between them. Those days and nights always ended in stubborn arguments and fights. It’s what eventually drove Stiles and Derek to avoid seeing and talking to each other at all costs. This period lasted throughout the human’s pre-teen and the werewolf’s mid-teen years. Everything changed when Stiles turned sixteen years old, and Derek turned nineteen.

They grew curious of one another after not talking in years. One of them would fix their eyes on the other whenever they came into close proximity of each other. The werewolf would watch him, mindful and hesitant but open to the idea, and the human stare back with a sense of hopefulness and yearning. The whole world seemed to stop every time they caught each other doing so.

A week ago, the Kingdom of Ronan received a letter in the mail from the Kingdom of Zirith, demanding that they and other domains surrender territories to them. The letter also claimed that were-beings and their cohabitation with humans is against “God’s will,” and is an “abomination.” There will be consequences if not resolved. Queen Melissa and King Stilinski wrote back asking to discuss this in person.

Today, the Ronan kingdom is celebrating the Prince’s eighteen birthday. Everyone, including Ronan villagers and other kingdoms are invited to come tonight if they so choose.


The two royals help each other prep for the ball tonight. Scott wraps a black cloak around the back of Stiles’ shoulders and buckles its clasp for him, before turning him to face the looking glass as he straightens out the back of his cape. The werewolf hugs the human from behind and rests his chin on his shoulder. “Happy birthday, Stiles” Scott smiles at him in the mirror.

“Thanks” Stiles grins back in the glass.

“Are you ready?” Scott asks.

“I think so,” Stiles utters.


Scott calls for the trumpets to sound. Knights assemble on either side of the marble staircase, and form a tunnel of raised swords for the Prince to walk through. Victorious music plays the moment his feet touch the first stair.

His father and step-mother make a toast to him.

“The heirs of the realm insure that the protection of its laws and the prosperity of its people will be maintained in future days!” King Stilinski declares.

“Succession is assured, people of Ronan, the Crown Prince!” Queen Melissa says.

 “Happy birthday, son.” King Stilinski says.

The Queen and King raise their silver goblets and drink from it. Castle residents and guests mimic them.

“Let us celebrate with a feast,” Melissa says. “Feel free to stay and chat or head into the ballroom when you’re finished.”

Meals, beverages, plates, goblets, silverware, flowery centerpieces and beautiful stain glass table lanterns are set out along the four thirty-foot wooden tables and benches. People are allowed to sit wherever they choose. Castle residents often sit together at the same table.

Queen Lydia and King Jordan of Gardenia (a Ronan ally) sit down across from Queen Melissa and King Stilinski. Prince Scott and Stiles take a seat beside their parents. A majority of their friend group take up the remainder of the table - Kira, Erica, Cora, Allison, Malia, Hayden, Danny, Mason, Boyd, Liam, Isaac, Jackson, Braeden, Marin, Alan, Chris and Peter.

“Happy birthday, Stiles” Lydia and Jordan say in sync.

“Thanks” Stiles says.

Scott, Derek and a few other knights haven’t been around much for the last two weeks. Missions sometimes are spent away from the castle and in other realms.

Derek sits down across from Scott and Stiles. It’s a real surprise, so much in fact, that Stiles nearly chokes on his drink the moment he locks eyes with Derek.

“Are you alright?” Scott asks. “Your face is bright red, dude.”

“Yeah, fine” Stiles manages to croak out. His heartbeat quickens with excitement and nervousness. The worst part is knowing that half the table can sense your feelings and lies.

Stiles tries to ignore Derek’s presence the rest of dinner.


People gather in the ballroom one by one. The orchestra sits in the corner playing beautiful melodies for guests to dance to. Scott and Stiles stand off to the side watching everyone. They keep each other company for an hour before Stiles insists Scott go dance with Kira before the night is over. After a huge amount of encouragement he eventually he does.

Stiles notices Derek staring at him from across the ballroom. Several couples block him out for a couple seconds as they dance past. The moment ends abruptly when a complete stranger steps in front of Stiles. 

“May I have this dance, your highness?” The man offers his arm. He has an oval shaped face, a broad definite chin, thick brown hair and thin almond shaped blue eyes.

Stiles looks at him, surprised and hesitant. “Uh…yes, you may” He takes his arm and allows him to lead them onto the dance floor.

“Matthew,” He introduces himself. He clasps their hands together, settles his other on his waist, and begin to circle around the ballroom. “Friends call me Matt.”

“What kingdom are you from?” Stiles asks. He can see Derek watching them over Matt’s shoulder. His face is stern and his jaw clenched.

“Not from anywhere you’ve heard of,” Matt replies. “I’m here visiting a friend.”

“You’re a really good dancer.” Stiles comments.

“Thank you, your highness,” Matt replies. “My mother was an exotic dancer. I like to think I got it from her.” Stiles raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs, and so does Stiles.

They return to the grand hall and sit down at one of the tables after a long half hour of dancing and joking around together.

“Did you have a good birthday, your highness?” Matt asks.

“Yeah I did, thanks,” Stiles replies. “Call me Stiles.”

“Okay, Stiles,” Matt says. “Tell me more about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” He asks.

“Anything, really,” Matt utters. “Uh, hobbies…interests?”

“I like Lacrosse,” Stiles says.

“Are you any good?” He asks.

“Yeah, pretty good,” Stiles says. “I’m also really good at Chess.”

“Me too,” Matt says. “We should play sometime.”

“What do you like to do for fun?” Stiles asks.

“Cards, gambling, jousting and hunting” Matt counts off his fingers. “Do you like to hunt?”

“No, my parents decided from a young age that I’d accidently kill myself,” Stiles states. “Do you hunt?”

“Only the most dangerous game” Matt says. “…I also love to fence.”

“Do you plan on attending the fair tomorrow?” Stiles asks. “There’s going to be a fencing tournament.”

“Oh, trust me,” Matt utters. “I’ll be there.”

They talk for a little while longer before the ball ends. Stiles escorts Matt out the main castle doors. “It’s been an honor spending time with you tonight,” Matt says. “Hope to see you at the fair tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” Stiles says.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” He politely kisses his hand, bows and departs.

Stiles catches glimpse of Derek glowering at them from the top of the grand staircase. The werewolf quickly recoils back to his bedroom the moment the human catches him.


The dueling room is a theatre-in-the-round. Fencing tournaments are often held here. Danny is the Marshal of Ronan, and is in charge of overseeing the game. Fighters will be disqualified and removed from the match if they choose not to follow the rules or his orders.

Queen Melissa, King Stilinski, Prince Scott and Stiles sit in one of the front rows.

Scott and Kira are the first up against each other. Both of them show their strengths and their weaknesses. Kira ends up winning, leaving Scott awestruck and in love with her more than ever. Malia and Peter are the next to go. She wins the next round, leaving her father to dwell in his conflicting alternate egos and mixed feelings about life.

Liam and Mason brawl afterwards. Mason earns the victory, but shares the reward with his best friend. Then its Allison and Braedan. The two battle each other for hours. They complement each other’s skills throughout, and eventually call it a tie. They share a kiss, and laugh about how amazing they both are.

The last to brawl is Derek.

“Is there anyone brave enough to challenge one of the greatest knights in the Ronan kingdom?” Danny asks the audience.

“I’ll take the challenge!” A voice says from the back of the room. The confident man walks up the small stairway onto the platform.

“What’s your name?” Danny asks.

“Matt Daehler” He says.

Danny hands him a sword.

Derek and Matt get down on one knee and recite a prayer. They stand up and close the distance between each other, knees bent and swords at the ready. Their last thoughts are of Stiles.

“Derek Hale verses Matt Daehler,” Danny declares. “THREE…TWO…ONE…FENCE!”

The men circle each other like gladiators in an arena. Matt charges at him first with determination. The guards of their swords nearly touch as Derek deflects his strike to the side of his torso. He uses his opposite arm to grab hold of Matt’s wrist, and disarm him. It’s over in less than eight seconds.

“And our reigning werewolf takes the cake!!!” Danny declares, proudly.

“I want a rematch!” Matt says through his teeth. “His wolf powers give him a better advantage!”

“I didn’t even use them,” Derek says bluntly.

“Alright,” Danny says. “Best two out of two!”

“Derek Hale verses Matt Daehler…Round two” Danny declares. “THREE…TWO…ONE…FENCE!”

Matt charges again, eyes filled with pure insanity. He swings his sword at his neck. Derek easily dodges it before lightly striking him on the shoulder with his blade. The round is shorter than the last one.

“Derek wins again!!!” Danny announces. He throws up Derek’s arm in victory.

Matt hurls his sword on the floor and rudely storms out of theatre. He doesn’t stay to watch Derek receive his reward.



Chapter Text

The rulers of Zirith receive Ronan’s reply letter. They agree to appoint with them in person. Marin gives Allison and her watchman the order to welcome them inside. She sends Chris out to notify the Queen and King before seating everyone in the assembly room.

Queen Melissa and King Stilinski welcome and greet them the moment they enter the room. The couples shake hands, and sit down across from each other.

“Let’s get straight down to business,” Queen Lilith declares. King Cedric sits closely beside her. “Shall we?”

The Ronan rulers nod their heads.

“We want to make our kingdom into a one world dominion,” Cedric explains. “And in order for us to do that we must seize as many territories as we can.”

Melissa’s eyebrows furrow together in concern. Stilinski’s eyes widen in surprise.

“An oath between our sons is a great way to start,” Lilith states.

“Are you suggesting an arranged marriage?” Melissa asks.

“Yes” Cedric confirms.

“We’d have to talk with our son first,” Melissa says.
“Why?” Lilith asks.

“Ronan strictly forbids parental arranged marriages without the child’s consent first,” Stilinski explains. “It goes against a person’s right to choose.” 

“Another objective of ours is to execute every werecreature,” Lilith adds. “Their advantages would be superior over ours if a leader rose and formed a rebellion against the human race. Imagine if they turned us into their slaves.”

“Werebeings are treated equally here,” Melissa states. “They deserve the right to live just as much as humans do. Murder and execution is strongly prohibited.”

“Those filthy abominations shouldn’t be tolerated,” Cedric says. “It’s against God’s will for them to live!”

“No, it’s against God’s will for them NOT to live,” Stilinski corrects.

“You have one week to determine whether or not to carry out any of the following,” Lilith declares. “If choose not to conform, you as well as many other domains will face the consequences.”

“Will you please escort these two out?” Stilinski asks Marin.

“It’d my pleasure, your majesty.” Marin says.


“You should have seen the look in their eyes,” Melissa says. “They’re absolutely crazy.”

“I believe it,” Scott says. “Did they say what the consequences will be?”

“No,” Stilinski says. “My guess is invading us, forcing us to conform and going to war.”
“We should put extra security precautions on Stiles,” Scott suggests. “Especially if we don’t know what their plan is.”

“That’s good idea, sweetie” Melissa praises her son proudly.

“I’ll assign my best knight to do the job.” Scott says.


“I already talked to Derek,” Scott explains. “He’s going to be your knight in shining armor till further notice.”

“What?!” Stiles bellows. “Did you say Derek?”

“Yeah,” Scott says. “Is that okay?”

“Of course that’s not okay!” He shouts. “I’ve never wanted to bone someone as much as I want to bone Derek!”

“The sexual tension between you guys can be really overwhelming sometimes,” Scott tells him. “I thought this might help with that.”

Stiles laughs. He actually laughs. Really hard. “You’re ridiculous,” He says. “What did he say when you told him?”

“He actually looked…happy for once,” Scott tells him. “I think he’s looking forward to it.”

“He’s looking forward to following me around like a lost puppy?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” He says. There’s a knock on the bedroom door. “That should be him.” Scott sends Stiles a quick wink before opening the door.

“Come on in,” Scott says. Derek enters the bedroom. “I’ll just leave you two here…alone.” He smirks deviously as he shuts the door behind him.

“Morning,” Stiles is the first to speak.

“Good morning, your highness” Derek returns.

The terribly awkward silence that follows pressures Stiles to talk about something… anything.

“So uh…don’t you think it’d make more sense if every werewolf had a bodyguard instead?” Stiles says. “Aren’t werebeings the real ones in danger here?”

“Werebeings can protect themselves,” Derek says. “One of Zirith’s strategies could be targeting you.”

“What good would that even do?”

“Your parents will do anything to save you – even if it means surrendering Ronan to Zirith,” He explains. “You’re an Achilles’ heel.”

“What does any of that have to do with my tendon?” Stiles asks.

“Oh my God,” Derek huffs, rolling his eyes. “An Achilles’ heel is a weak spot. Classic Greek Mythology. Read a book sometime.”

“Me? Read a book?” Stiles pouts. “I’m surprised you even know what a book is.”

“Oh, very nice,” Derek says sarcastically. “Be ready to go out soon, your highness.”

“What for?” He asks.

“The blacksmith has new weapons in stock,” Derek says.

“Ugh, okay fine,” Stiles whines.

“Why?” Derek asks.  “Did you have something else in mind, your highness?”

“No,” Stiles says. “Call me Stiles.”

“As you wish.” Derek says.


The werewolf and the human get ready to leave. Derek’s cloak matches the night sky and stops right above of his ankles. His lowly hung hood casts shadows under his eyes. Stiles’ cloak is velvet red and drags behind him when he walks. The point on the back of his hood hangs out loosely.

Stiles struggles to clip the golden ruby clasp of his cloak together. Derek finishes tying off his cloak’s laces before coming to his assistance.

“May I?” Derek offers.

“Yeah, give it your best shot,” Stiles consents.

Derek gently sweeps his hands out of the way. He manages to hook the clasp together in his black leather gloves.

“Thank you,” Stiles says softly.

The world stops the second they catch each other’s gaze.

“Make sure to put up your hood,” Derek says. “We don’t want to draw any attention.”

Stiles obeys and pulls up his hood.


The werewolf and the human approach the castle barriers.

“Are we seriously going to walk all the way there?” Stiles complains.

Derek sighs deeply. “Fine. I’ll get you a horse.” He says.

They quickly change their route and head towards the horse stables.


The werewolf and the human rest their arms on the fence. They watch Deaton finish bathing a creamy white stallion.

“I take it you two are in need of a horse,” Deaton assumes.

“Yes,” Derek replies. “Only Thor today please.”

“I’ll be right back with Thor,” Deaton tells them. He leaves the horse Buttercup to stretch out her four legs and run around the large enclosure.

“Thor?” Stiles comments. “You named your horse Thor?”

“I named him after the mythical Norse god,” Derek explains. Stiles looks at him, puzzled. “Wow, really?”

Deaton prepares the reins, a flank blanket and saddle for them before bringing the horse out of the stable. Thor is the biggest horse Stiles has ever laid eyes on. His shiny black coat, mane and tail glisten in the sunlight.

“Thank you,” Derek says.

“No problem,” Deaton replies. He hands the reins over to Derek before opening the gates for Thor. “Have a great day.”

“Thanks, you too.” Stiles and Derek say in sync.

“Ready?” Derek asks.

“Uh, yeah I guess.” Stiles says, unsure what he’s signed up for.

The werewolf grabs hold of the human’s waist and lifts him up onto Thor’s back. Derek double checks that Stiles is comfortable. He even goes out of his way to straighten his cloak for him. Something about it seems to agitate him.

“Having a cloak this long will get you killed,” Derek criticizes.

“What are you talking about?” Stiles replies. “I’ve seen people wear these and be fine!”

Derek looks him up and down, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, and they aren’t you.” He states.

The werewolf whips a sheathed dagger out of his leather boot. “Use this if you have to,” Derek hands it to him. “That’s my favorite knife.” He warns softly. The human examines its blade for a while and then slips it into his belt loop.

Derek grabs hold of the horse’s reins, and leads them to the castle barriers.

His sister Cora spots them from one of the nearest towers. “Another blacksmith visit, Derek?” She assumes.

“Yes,” Derek says. “New weapons.”

“Sounds good,” Cora says. “We’ll open the gates for you and…who’s this?”

“Prince Stiles” Derek says.

“Ooh! My apologies, your highness!” Cora says. “I didn’t recognize you with your hood up.”

“That’s okay,” Stiles reassures her.

“I better start getting used to this,” Cora mutters to herself. She spins the wheel to open the drawbridge.

“Thank you!” Derek says. “See you later.”


Derek leads them across the drawbridge silently. A large unknown creature submerges beneath the dark murky water.  

“O-o-oh my God,” Stiles exclaims. “Did you see that?”

Derek looks back, tightly clutching his sword handle.

“What?”  He asks. “Are you alright?”

“Something just moved over there!” Stiles points at the water.

“I don’t see anything, Stiles” Derek looks over the edge. “It was probably just a fish or something.”

“Just-a-fish, my ass!” Stiles yells.

“Calm down – you’re scaring Thor.” Derek gently strokes the horse’s nose.

They reach the end of the bridge and follow the path to the village.

“Try not to make eye contact with anyone.” Derek tells him.

Stiles does as he says and keeps his head low.


Finally, they reach the blacksmith. Derek ties Thor’s reins to a nearby post and carefully helps Stiles off the horse.

“Good morning, Derek” Meredith greets. “Here to check out my latest works of art?”

“Only the finest in the whole world,” Derek says. “You’d be rich if our kingdom had a currency.”

“It’s a shame other kingdoms are segregated by class,” Stiles states. “And must rely on money to live.”

Derek and Meredith nod their heads in agreement.

“I’m Meredith,” She introduces herself.

“This is Prince Stiles,” Derek introduces.

“Ooh! Forgive me, your highness,” Meredith bows politely for him. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” Stiles kindly reassures her.

“Scott assigned me to protect him,” Derek explains.

“Such an honorable duty,” She says.

“What’s the latest you have on display?” Derek asks.

Meredith and Derek seem to get off topic a lot. Stiles waits less than two minutes. He manages to desert the building without either of them noticing.

Stiles waits by the horse - stroking Thor’s forehead down to his nose. His eyes skim through the stores across from the Blacksmith. His eyes stumble upon a sign hanging up in one of the windows, “Clairvoyant ~ Psychic Reader.”

Stiles draws back the beaded curtain, and steps inside.

The walls and the flooring are decorated in drapes, beads and mysterious symbols. He’s surprised to find nobody at the front counter. He suddenly notices a hidden doorway in the back labeled “Enter here.”  Stiles draws back its beads and goes into the room. A woman of color sits in the back chair staring at him.

“Welcome, Prince Stiles,” The clairvoyant greets. “My name is Enid. I’ve been expecting to see you.”

Chapter Text

There’s no real point in concealing his identity if she already knows who he is. Stiles withdraws his hood and lets it fall back against his shoulders.

“Uh, hello,” Stiles says. He awkwardly sits down across from her. “Ha, I was expecting a crystal ball,” She smiles at him sweetly. “I take it you want to read my palms then…?”

“None of that is needed,” Enid reassures. She’s able to read his soul by looking into his eyes. “You fail to see the numerous things you’re capable of. This is what holds you back the most. The last person you thought would ever give you the time of day has been in love with you for years. Both of you are currently in the state of the denial about your feelings for each other. Nevertheless, your souls are destined to wed.” She tells him. “Beware. Someone with adversarial intentions is trying to get closer to you.”

“Who is it?” He asks.

“I can only see deeper into the now,” She explains. “Rather than the outcome.”

“Ugh, I’m so fucked.” Stiles mutters under his breath.

“Someone is looking for you,” She says.

Derek. What if the person trying to get closer to him is Derek? He thinks to himself. His heart sinks at the possibility. A lump forms in his throat.

“Thank you” He stands up. “I need to get going now.”

“Be careful, your highness,” She tells him. “Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.”

Derek carries his newly purchased weapons in his shoulder satchel. He knows the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat and scent by memory, and tracks him down into the psychic shop.

“You are not making my job any easier.” Derek says.

Stiles reeks of fear, anxiety and acts more nervous than usual. “Maybe you shouldn’t take so long,” Stiles suggests. He’s eager to get back to the castle, and away from Derek.

“Don’t do that again.” Derek says.

“Whatever.” Stiles rolls his eyes. He throws his hood up and passes by him.

Derek lets out a deep sigh and follows him outside.

Stiles makes a sad attempt at pulling himself up on the horse by himself. He puts his foot in the stirrup and tries to throw his leg over the saddle’s seat. Derek watches nearby, quietly chuckling at him for a solid minute. Stiles’ foot gets twisted in the stirrup. He loses his balance. The werewolf catches the human before he’s able to hit ground.

Derek raises his eyebrows and smiles crookedly at him. Stiles avoids eye contact and tensely cringes in arms. He tries escape his temptingly hot, muscular arms by desperately squirming. Derek registers his fear and anxiety growing stronger. Frowning, the werewolf lifts the human up onto Thor, and makes sure he’s comfortable. Then he unties the reins from the post and leads them back to the castle.


“I’m going to get ready for bed.” Stiles says.

“Alright,” Derek says. “I’ll let my Uncle Peter know. He’s been assigned to guard your door all night. I’ll be in the room over.”

“Okay,” Stiles says abruptly. He’s ready to finally be alone. “Goodnight”

“Goodnight, Stiles” Derek leaves.

Stiles removes his dagger out of his belt as he’s changing. Derek said to take care of it because it’s favorite. Why would he give him his favorite knife if he were planning to kill him?


The next day after lunch, Isaac informs Stiles and Derek that he has visitor in the grand hall.

Derek follows Stiles closely down the grand staircase.

“Surprise!” Matt exclaims.

“Hi!” Stiles says.

“Great to see you again, your highness” Matt bows politely.

“Good to see you too,” Stiles returns.

“You too, Derek” Matt barely acknowledges Derek’s presence. He quickly redirects his attention to Stiles. “Would you like to go hunting with me today?”

“Stiles? Hunting?” Derek laughs. “Yeah, right.”

“He won’t be hunting at all,” Matt says. “He’ll be on the sidelines, watching and keeping me company.”

Derek crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows.

“It’s my duty to be with him at all times.” He declares.

“I don’t suppose you’d mind coming with us then?” Matt sounds disappointed.

“Not at all.” Derek says.


The Forest of Neith is one of the largest forests surrounding the Ronan Kingdom. The tallest trees stretch their branches towards the skies. The golden sun radiates onto the highest canopy. Beams of light filtering through the smaller layers and understories. Beautiful sounds of the wildlife echo the woodlands. Fallen leaves rustle, and sticks snap beneath the weight of their shoes. They evade each tree blocking their trek onward.

Matt aims his crossbow at a gray wolf passing through the trees. He presses the trigger. The arrow penetrates a tree five feet away from the animal. The wolf runs in the opposite direction they’re headed in to reunite with its pack.

“You scared it away, Derek!” Matt accuses. “What the hell?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Derek crosses his arms.

“Don’t do it again,” Matt says.

Derek sighs deeply, and rolls his eyes.

A long while later, a rabbit sits behind a nearby bush.

“Don’t move,” Matt hushes them. He slowly steps forward to aim his crossbow. A twig crunches underneath his boot, scaring the rabbit away. “You distracted me again, Derek” Matt shouts.  “God, can’t you do anything right?”

Derek scoffs.                                                       

“It’s starting to get dark out,” Stiles says. “We should probably head back to the castle.”

“Thank God.” Derek says.


Derek impatiently waits for Stiles and Matt to say their goodbyes.

“Maybe I can convince your father to let us go alone next time,” Matt says. “Without Derek.” He specifies. Derek growls deeply. “Next time, I’ll hunt down the finest wolf in the forest, and present its pelt to you.” Matt kisses the top of Stiles’ hand and bows before mounting his white stallion. Intense jealously strikes Derek instantly. He rolls his eyes. “Goodbye for now.”

“Bye, Matt” Stiles says.

They watch his horse gallop away in the distance.

“I don’t like him.” Derek tells him.


“How can you stand him?” Derek asks.

“He’s nice to me,” Stiles shrugs.

Derek rolls his eyes again.

Stiles and Derek unwind in the library. The human lounges on the couch, his limbs sprawled about. The wolf reclines in the chair across from him, reading a good book.

“I’m so bored,” Stiles groans.

“Yep, you’ve already told me that a million times.” Derek sighs as he turns the page.

“What book are you reading?” Stiles asks.

“It’s called ‘Shut the Hell Up Already,’” Derek says. “By Derek Hale.”

 “HA. HA. HA. Very funny,” He mocks.

A short silence falls between them.

“Hey Derek” He says.

“Oh my God,” Derek groans. “What do you want?”

“How come we’ve never gotten along?” Stiles asks.


“How come we’ve never been friends?” He says.

Derek takes his eyes off his book to look at him. “Um, I don’t know,” He takes a moment to think about it. “Age difference I guess.”

“Only by four years,” Stiles says. “Scott is the same age as me and you two are good friends. Same with the rest of our pack.”

“We’re both strong-headed people,” He says. “It didn’t matter what we were fighting about. You always stood up for what you believe is right.”

“You were the same way,” Stiles says.

“I guess so,” He says. “How come?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles shrugs. “Just wondering.”

Both of them realize it’s one of the main traits they’ve always admired about each other the most.


The pack unwinds in the entertainment room together. Lydia and Allison drink wine together on the couch. Cora, Boyd, Isaac and Jackson sit on the couch across from them. Kira, Malia and Erica rest in front of the fireplace, chatting and braiding each other’s hair. Danny watches Liam and Mason play chess in corner while Scott and Stiles play shovelboard. Derek reads the same book in the chair nearby.

“Yes! Scott cheers in victory.

“Ah shittttttttt” Stiles cusses. “That’s the fifth time you’ve won in row, dude.”

Derek will never confess how many matches of shovelboard he’s lost to Scott.

“Do you dare challenge the shovelboard grandmaster?” Scott asks Derek.

“No, that’s okay,” Derek says. He can’t stand thought of losing in front of Stiles.

“Too chicken, Derek?” Jackson teases. Everyone laughs at the childish accusation.

“Are you?” Derek counters.

Jackson accepts the challenge and swaggers over to the game set. Stiles effortlessly gives up his place and stands near Derek. The human will throw out a sarcastic remark every now and then. The werewolf either rolls his eyes or resists the urge to smirk and laugh.

Scott beats Jackson a dozen times before he finally gives up.


One late Monday afternoon, Derek leads Stiles into the knight training room.

His eyes scan the intimidating weapons mounted across the walls.

“Did you finally get fed up with me?” Stiles asks. He snatches a battle-ax off the wall and hands it over to Derek. “Do me a favor-” He lowers his shirt collar and braces himself, “-and make it as quick as possible.”

Derek quickly hangs the battle-ax back up on the wall.

“I wasn’t hired just to protect you,” Derek tells him. “I was hired to train you.”

“Train me for what?”

Derek suddenly grows dark and woeful. “For the day you choose someone else to wed,” He says. “And inherit the throne. With great power, comes-”

“Comes great responsibility,” Stiles cuts him off. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. Why didn’t my parents just have Scott protect and train me?”

“He’s your best friend,” He explains. “It’d be too much of distraction. You two would get caught off guard too easily.” Stiles nods in agreement. “Besides, Scott has a hundred other responsibilities to deal with now that he’s Grand Master.”

“The last time someone handed me a weapon,” Stiles says. “I nearly killed myself with a spiked flail.”

“My duty is to make sure nothing happens to you,” Derek says. “A king’s duty is to care and protect the people of Ronan. You must have charisma and charm to win their favor. Logical decision-making, comprehending leadership, alliances and defense forces will all aid you in the future.” Derek hands him a sword off the wall before unsheathing his own. “It’s about time you’ve learned how to defend yourself.”

“It’s so heavy!” Stiles grunts.

“Let’s see what you got.” Derek says.

The human quickly manages to lift his sword, and block the werewolf’s first swing.

“Not bad.” Derek says before disarming him. Stiles’ sword flies out of his hand and into the far corner of the room. He looks back to find the tip of Derek’s sword pointed at his throat. “But we’ve still have a lot of work to do.”

Chapter Text

The knight training grounds hold various physical activities and obstacle courses. The first few days are the most brutal for Stiles. He nearly hurts and kills himself a countless amount of times. Fortunately, Derek observes him closely and acts quickly. He’ll catch and stabilize Stiles whenever he loses his balance and falls, often while hopping to tree stump to tree stump, leaping over a hurdle or dangling off the monkey bars. Derek works Stiles harder whenever he replies with a sarcastic remark and gives him attitude.

Day by day, his body grows stronger, faster and more agile. His reflexes quicken. Stiles becomes alert and in touch with his surroundings. He even gains more confidence.

Six weeks later, all of his hard work pays off. Both of them develop mutual respect and admiration for each other. Stiles masters the training grounds and passes the final test without having Derek there to escort him. Then it’s back to learnin basic self-defense techniques in the knight training room.


“What are some of the most vulnerable body parts to target if you’re attacked?” Derek asks.                                                                             

“Eyes, nose, neck,” Stiles lists off. “Knees, shins, and umm…” He awkwardly trails off. He regretfully steals a quick look at Derek’s groin. “Yeah…you know.”

“No I don’t,” Derek smirks and crosses his arms. “Please enlighten me.”

His face turns bright red with embarrassment. “Right in the dingle berries.” Stiles gestures to his own crotch.

Derek teaches Stiles basic self-defense techniques for the next three weeks. Stiles learns to breakaway from front and back attacks, chokeholds, wristlocks and bear hugs.

The human’s heart races and skips every time the werewolf closes the distance between them and touches him. Stiles constantly reeks of attraction, arousal and anxiety. It makes both Derek’s wolf and human go nuts. Things get progressively worse when they move on to pinned-to-the-ground attacks.

Derek straddles Stiles’ hips and pins his arms above his head.

“Stiles,” Derek groans. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“I can’t help it!” Stiles says. “Physical stimulation, dude”

“Try to control it!” Derek grunts. His eyes turn ice blue as his grip on his wrists tightens. He struggles to restrain his fingernails from turning into claws.

“Try to control it?” Stiles says. “Try to control your wolf!” He bucks his hips and rolls Derek over onto his back.

Derek fights to regain control of himself for the rest of the session.

Weaponry combat is next on the to-do-list. They practice for hours every day. Derek’s lost track of how many times he’s disarmed him. Stiles gradually becomes quick and swift with a weapon in his hands. They make witty and snarky comments at each other. Other times they’ll praise each other’s hits and blocks. Once Stiles is finally able to outdo his clumsiness is he able to disarm Derek’s weapon.


The human manages to drag the werewolf out for a long walk in the woods since the castle’s been hot and dry for the last couple days.

“This breeze feels so good.” Stiles says. Derek grunts in agreement.

There’s a long peaceful moment of silence. They listen to the beautiful sounds of the forest echo through its tall trees.

“Hey Derek,” Stiles says.

“Yeah” Derek says.

“Do you ever think about your family?” Stiles asks.

There’s a short pause.

“Every day,” Derek says. “How come?”

“You never talk about them,” Stiles says. There’s a long pause. “I’ve seen the way you shudder at Kate’s name over the years – whenever anyone mentions her. The fire wasn’t your fault.”

Derek feels as if Stiles has just lifted a numerous amount of burdened weight off of his shoulders.

“Do you ever think about your mom?” Derek asks.

“All the time,” Stiles says. Memories fill his mind. “She was a great mom.”

“I used to really be into wood-carving before the fire,” Derek explains. “There was one summer I carved a statuette of your parents and gave it to them as a wedding anniversary gift. I still remember the way her face lite up when she opened it.” He smiles, actually smiles for once at the fond memory. Stiles looks at him, intrigued. “You were too young to remember.”

“You were the one who made that?” Stiles asks.

“Yeah” Derek says.

“My dad still has it,” Stiles says. There’s a short pause. “I do remember looking forward to your family visiting the castle. They were always a riot.

“Yeah, yours too.” Derek says.

They smile at each other.

They start taking daily afternoon walks together through the forest, the village and even the castle grounds. Sometimes when they’re feeling adventurous, they’ll explore the outside walls of Ronan kingdom. They share pieces of themselves with each other – stories, memories, goals, opinions, hobbies, interests, likes and dislikes. Neither one of them can stop talking once they’re caught up in a good conversation, especially Stiles, and Derek listens to every word.


Shrieks are heard throughout the castle’s outer curtain walls. Ronan knights and intruders shoot fire arrows back and forth at each other. Trespassers climb its barriers and over the railings of the highest defense towers.

“Stiles!” Derek says over and over again.

Stiles awakens in a cold sweat. It was only a nightmare. Derek has been shaking him for God knows how long.

“The castle’s under attack!” He whispers softly.

…Or maybe not.

“What?” He says.

“We’re under attack,” Derek repeats. “We need to move fast.” He demands. “Now!” He unsheathes his sword and approaches the door as Stiles scrambles out of bed.

 The werewolf’s ice blue eyes light the darkness. He checks either sides of the hall before leading the way. The human follows closely behind him, his hand on his dagger.

“Are they in the castle?” Stiles whispers.

“Could be,” Derek says.

“They’d have to climb the walls and get past our knights though, right?” Stiles asks. Derek ignores him. “Do you know whose attacking us?” He’s ignored again. “Who’d even want to attack us anyway? Ronan is labeled the top number one happiest and most peaceful kingdom in the world every year.”

“Will you please shut up?” Derek demands. “I’m trying to listen-”

Two pairs of hands suddenly seize Stiles and drag him away. He just barely manages to scream “DEREK!” before one of them slaps a hand over his mouth.

The werewolf chases his human down. One of the intruders releases Stiles to swordfight with Derek while the other tries to make off with him. He catches a small glimpse of their swords clashing together before he’s hauled around the corner. Stiles tries using one of Derek’s defense technique but the trespasser’s grip is too strong. He manages to slip out his knife and jab him in the arm. The intruder hollers out in pain and knocks the knife out of his hands. He somehow manages heaving Stiles outside. Fortunately another knight happens to be patrolling the outer curtain walls.

“Your highness!” Boyd comes to Stiles’ rescue.

The trespasser clutches the prince into his side as he swordfights with the knight. Their swords clatter together, striking, blocking and dodging one another. Boyd eventually disarms the sword right out of their hands. The invader makes a bold but very dumb decision to flee - hurdling over the wall, and falling to their death.

“Oh my God!” Stiles says. His rescuer offers his hand and helps the prince up off the ground. “Thank you so much!”

“That was a close one” Boyd states.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Stiles replies.

“Let’s get you inside,” Boyd stresses. He puts his hand on his back, and guides him inside.

“Where’s Derek?” Boyd asks.

“He got caught up in a swordfight,” Stiles explains. “He ought to be looking for me now.” That is if he got out alright. Stiles tries to swallow the lump in his throat.

“What’s wrong?” Boyd asks, his nostrils flaring.

Stiles is worried about Derek. Never in a billion years would he think he’d ever be scared for Derek.

“Nothing.” He manages to choke out and lie.

“Hey,” Boyd stops them in the hallway. He takes his trembling hands. “Hey, Stiles look at me.” Stiles looks up at him. “Derek’s okay. I can hear his heartbeat…he’s close.” He doesn’t bother mentioning that Derek’s heartbeat is racing, and that fear and anxiety are oozing out of him.

Derek has a terrified look on his face as he appears around the corner. He sighs in relief when he sees Stiles with Boyd. His worst fears blocked out the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat.

“Thank God,” Derek utters..

“Derek!” Stiles shouts.

The human throws his trembling arms around the back of his neck. The werewolf immediately takes him into his arms.

“I thought they took you,” Derek whispers.

“I thought you were dead,” Stiles buries his face into his shoulder.

Suddenly Scott and Kira walk around the corner and approach them.

“The intruders – they’ve retreated,” Kira declares.

“Do we know what realm they belong to?” Boyd asks.

“Zirith” Scott says.


The werewolf walks his human back to his bedroom.

“You dropped this,” Derek says. He pulls his favorite knife out of his belt, and returns it to him.

“Thanks,” Stiles looks down at the bloody blade.

“You got him pretty bad, huh?” Derek asks proudly.

“Yeah,” Stiles chuckles.

“Get some rest,” Derek says.

“You too,” Stiles replies, “Night, Derek” as he goes into his bedroom.

“Night, Stiles” Derek says. He makes eye contact with uncle who guards the hall. Peter winks at him as he passes him by.


“Derek,” Scott shakes him awake.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks.

“It’s Stiles!” Scott says. Derek’s eyes open immediately. “He’s missing.” The werewolf races out of bed and into the human’s room to see for himself.

Derek looks out the open window. A cool breeze rushes in, sending chills up his spine. He clasps onto the window sill tightly.

“My knights are gathering search parties now,” Scott informs. “They should be tracking his scent now.”

His grip tightens and his claws dig into the grain. “Where’s Peter?” Derek growls. He breaks half of the windowsill off and hurls it at the wall. It’s no secret that Peter’s scent seems to be over half of this room.

Derek deserts the bedroom to track Peter down. Scott chases after him, trying to reason with him before he does anything irrational.

The dining hall is half crowded with residents and guests. Peter talks to a group of people at one of the middle tables. Derek storms over.

“Oh look,” Peter says. “My favorite nephew.”

Derek snatches the collar of his shirt and flips him over onto table. The dining hall goes silent.

“THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Derek yells, inches away from his uncle’s face. He throws back his arm and punches him in the face. “STILES COULD BE DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU.” He punches him over and over and over again.

 “Derek! Derek!” Scott’s eyes flash crimson red. “Stop! This isn’t going to help Stiles!”

Derek listens to his alpha and takes his voice down a few notches. “What the hell did you do, Peter?” He barks in his face.


Stiles wakes up in an unfamiliar bedroom with no windows. It seems much more luxurious than his own. He tries to recall memories from the last night. He remembers the castle invasion. He had a hard time sleeping and requested some hot chocolate to drink before passing the fuck out.

Stiles tumbles out of bed and goes for the doorknob. Locked. He looks around the room, searching for anything that can be used to pick the lock.

Suddenly the door opens. Stiles instantly thinks of Derek when he reaches for his knife tucked in his waistband. Gone.

“Don’t bother,” A familiar voice says, closing the door behind them. “I took your knife away.”

Stiles looks up to find the man Enid warned him about standing before him.

“It’s pretty unsafe to keep it tucked in your waistband like that,” He says. “Especially while you’re sleeping. You should be grateful I took it away from you – really saved you the cuts on your right thigh.”

“Matt” Stiles says, shocked.

“Prince Matt of the Zirth Kingdom,” Matt corrects. “Royal offspring of Queen Lilith and King Cedric. The heir to the throne.”

“You’re the prince of Zirith?” He can’t believe it.

“Yep,” Matt says. “Listen love, try not to worry about this arranged marriage business we’ve got going on. You’ll learn to love me in time, and then we can vanquish every last werecreature on the face of the earth with the power of two kingdoms combined.”

“What?!” Stiles says, disgusted.

“Aren’t you glad I didn’t tie you up?” Matt mentions. “I put you in this nice bedroom. Locked, windowless and soundproof. All to keep you safe.”

“Oh my God,” Stiles says. “To keep me safe? More like to hold me captive!”

“Nonsense, my love” Matt says.

“You’re insane!” Stiles exclaims. How didn’t he see this coming?

“Insanely in love with you,” Matt corrects.

Chapter Text

Scott and Derek interrogate Peter in a small room. They lose patience with his remarks and end up beating the shit out of him for answers. It goes against everything Ronan stands for. It’s also a really huge risk on Scott’s part but it’s one they’re both willing to take.

“I made a deal” Peter finally reveals before spitting blood out of his mouth.

“With who?” Derek asks.

“Prince Matt of the Zirith Kingdom,” He replies.

Derek rolls his eyes. “I fucking hate that guy.” He mutters.

“What was the deal?” Scott balls his hands into fists.

“He promised to give me Grand Master of the Chivalric Order after Zirith conquers the world, in exchange for Stiles,” Peter explains. “As long as I don’t turn anyone or knock anyone up with werebabies.”

“How did you do it?” Scott asks.

“I slipped a dose of Epiphany into his hot chocolate,” Peter says.

“Epiphany?” Derek says.

“Heavy sleeping drug,” Scott tells him. “That and he knows where exactly where the night guards patrol the castle. What does Matt want with Stiles?”

“To marry him and unite our kingdoms,” Peter says. “And conquer the world.”


Matt finally leaves him alone in the bedroom. Stiles talks quietly to himself. He paces back and forth - trying to come with an escape plan.

The door opens. One of the castle heads enters and lies formal clothes down on the bed.

“The royal family strongly advises to take a shower and put these on for dinner,” He says. “You smell like you’ve lived with unclean mutts for far too long.”

“Make me,” Stiles crosses his arms.

“Sure thing.” The head man says. He briefly leaves the room, and returns with three servants. “Strip him down and throw him in the shower.” He orders them.

Stiles makes it difficult for them to do so by shouting and squirming. Thanks to Derek’s training, he holds them off for a long time. He uses almost all of the fighting techniques he’s learned and drains most of the energy out of his opponents. The head man himself is eventually forced to tackle him on the floor and help strip off his clothes.

“You little shit!” He says.

Stiles kicks and thrashes. The four of them manage to haul him over into the bathroom and into the shower. He gives up by the time the water hits his face.


People of the Ronan Castle gather in the assembly room for an important meeting. Family and friends quietly shed tears for Stiles’ wellbeing.

Everyone goes silent when the Grand Master rises at the round table.

“We’re now entering a civil war with the Kingdom of Zirith,” Scott declares. “Werebeings are equivalent to humans and deserve to live together in peace and harmony. The kingdom of Gardenia and others have agreed to fight beside ours. We’ll set out today and meet up with them by tonight,” Scott unsheathes his sword and points it up at the ceiling. “We fight at dawn!”


It’s very uncomfortable to have people watching you shower. Stiles requests for them to leave a few times. None of them do.

“You have a half an hour you filthy mutt-lover,” One of them states.

“Fuck off” Stiles lathers his hair with shampoo and then conditioner.

“Keep talking with a mouth like that, and we’ll cut off your tongue,” The head man threatens.

“Go ahead,” Stiles says. “Maybe I’ll bleed myself to death and finally die. Then I won’t have to put with this stupid bullshit anymore,” He turns off the water, “I’m done, damn it, now get me a towel as soft as bunny.”

“I hope Matt decides to have you executed,” The head man says.

“Can’t always get what you want, can you Bob?” Stiles states.

“It’s Alex actually,” The head man corrects.

“Can’t always get what you want, can you Alex?”

“Shut up,” Alex says.
One of the servants returns with a soft towel. Stiles snatches it out of their hands and covers himself. He steps out of the shower and then changes into the formal clothes lying out on the bed.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” Alex says. He leaves with the other servants before locking the door behind them.


The sky is a soft grey hue. Snowflakes begin to fall and settle on the ground. Scott leads his knights through the Forest of Neith. Some knights ride horses, others walk on foot. Each knight and horse wears protective armor and carries important supplies. Their manes and tails are securely braided back out of the way. Scott rides on his chestnut colored horse, Roxy. Derek rides Thor closely beside him.

Although Isaac is a butler and Erica is maid – they’ve chosen to fight for their kingdom. Both have been practicing fencing for years as a hobby.

“Is Derek okay?” Isaac whispers.

“He’s mad at himself,” Erica says.

“He blames himself for Stiles getting kidnapped,” Malia says.

“We need to move faster,” Derek aggressively grunts out.

“If we could move any faster, Derek,” Scott says. “We would be.”

“Everyone needs to calm down!” Allison declares. “This isn’t helping Stiles and the rest of the world for that matter. Get your shit together people!”

“She’s right,” Malia says. “Suck it up. We don’t have time for this.”


Matt opens the bedroom door and enters. “You look amazing,” He checks him out. “Ready to meet my parents?”

“Oh boy,” Stiles says. “I can’t wait to meet the creators of the piece of shit standing in front of me.”

Matt laughs softly to himself before snatching a handful of Stiles’ hair, and slamming his face into the nearby dresser. “You watch your mouth,” He warns.

Matt holds his hand and drags him downstairs. His parents reach across the dinner table to shake hands with Stiles.

“Pleasure to finally meet you, Stiles” King Cedric says.

“I wasn’t expecting such a handsome face,” Queen Lilith says.

Stiles remains silent. He tries to slip his hand out of Matt’s grip.

“Aren’t are you glad to meet my parents too, darling?” Matt squeezes his hand.

“I might be if I wasn’t being held here against my will,” Stiles snaps. Matt squeezes his hand tighter. Stiles winces in pain. “It’s so great to meet you too” He chokes out.

Dinner is awkward. There’s something very off about Lilith, Cedric and Matt. They act normal yet everything they say and do is borderline nuts. They tell him how thrilled they are for another person to join the family, ask him questions about his personal life, and then reveal the wedding ceremony they have planned tomorrow morning. His parents wish him a goodnight before Matt leads him back to the confined bedroom.

Matt slams the bedroom door behind them. He immediately snatches his arm, and twists it far past its limits. Stiles hears a sickening snap followed by excruciating pain. He lets out an ear-piercing scream.

“I told you to watch that mouth,” Matt says. “Do it again, and I’ll break the other one.” He makes a sling for his broken arm out some of his bedsheets. He adjusts the position of his arm, and ties it off around the back of his neck.

Tears stream down Stiles’ cheeks. Matt cups his chin and wipes them away with his thumb.

“Until tomorrow morning my love,” Matt kisses him deeply. “Sweet dreams.”

The ghost of his kiss makes Stiles cringe and want to throw up. Who knows what Matt would’ve done to him if Stiles tried to resist him?

Finally, Matt leaves the room.

Stiles takes a good look at himself in the mirror. His eye has blackened, his bottom lip is cut open, and now is arm is broken.


The moon and stars peak at their highest in the night sky.

Scott, his knights and allies choose a place to set up camp. They make sure to hydrate, feed and wrap their horses up in warm blankets before turning in for the night.

Derek leans into Thor’s side as he gently strokes his fingers through his soft hair.

“What are you doing up?” Scott asks.

“Can’t sleep” Derek replies.

“I can’t either,” Scott says. He sits down beside him, mirroring him. There’s a long pause between them. “I’m scared for Stiles,” He confesses. “And the rest of the world.”

“Me too,” Derek says.

“What if we don’t win?” Scott asks.

“We can’t afford to think that way,” Derek says, wrapping an arm around him.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Scott asks, resting his head on his shoulder.

“I can feel it,” Derek tells him. “We’re going to win.”


Stiles can’t sleep. He’ll be forced to marry Matt and unite the kingdoms tomorrow morning. He tries to think happy thoughts about his family and friends back home. It’s hard to say whether it makes him feel better or worse. The last thing he thinks about before falling asleep is Derek.


Scott and Derek somehow manage to fall asleep with Stiles on their minds.

The following morning, the Grand Masters of Ronan, Gardenia and other allied kingdoms assemble. They prepare their knights and horses for the battle ahead. Humans and werebeings fight side by side each other – capturing every Zirith guard and knight in sight.

“Do you take Prince Stiles of Ronan to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister asks.

“I do.” Matt says.

“Do you take Prince Matthew Daehler of Zirith to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister asks.
The chapel doors burst open the moment Stiles opens his mouth.

Scott and his pack make a badass entry together. Allison raises her bow and shoots an arrow into center of the wedding altar. Hazy smoke seeps out of the arrow obstructing everyone’s view.

A strong pair of arms latches onto Stiles. Derek! He thinks happily to himself, and clings onto him tightly. He leads him through the back door of the chapel and out into the Forest of Neith.

“I knew you’d warm up to me eventually,” A voice that doesn’t belong to Derek’s says.

Stiles immediately lets go of him and steps back. “UGH!” He shouts. “I wish that smoke had been poisonous!”  Matt reaches out to squeeze his broken arm. Stiles screams out in pain.

Suddenly, Derek’s there holding a sword up to him. “Let him go,” Derek growls, wolfed out in armor.

“Derek” Stiles happily exclaims.

“Aw, Derek,” Matt glares at him. “A literal knight in shining armor here to rescue his little damsel in distress.”

“I said let him go,” Derek repeats. “Get down on your knees, hands behind your head.”

Matt whips out a knife and grabs Stiles from behind. “No.”  He holds the blade up to his throat.

“Leave him out of this,” Derek begs.

“I don’t know Derek,” Matt says. “I love seeing you all scared and helpless like this. You’re apparently not as emotionless as I first thought you were.”
“I swear to God if you kill him-” Derek growls.

“Let’s make a deal,” Matt says. “How about I let Stiles live if you let me have him?”

“Not going to happen,” Stiles grunts out. He stomps on Matt’s foot and elbows him in the right eye. Matt drops his knife and instantly releases him.

Stiles cowers into Derek’s side who wraps a protective arm around his waist.

Scott and the rest of the pack approach the scene. “Arrest him,” He orders. “You okay, Stiles?”

“Have you even seen me?” Stiles asks. He gestures to his face and broken arm. “No, Scott, I’m not okay.”  

“It’s over Matt, you’re surrounded,” Derek points his sword at his throat. “On your knees.”

Matt finally obeys.

Scott’s knights tie Matt’s hands behind his back. The moment Matt looks at Stiles, Derek steps in front of him protectively.

“This means war,” Matt says.

Scott’s eyebrows furrow together. “We uh - just won that war,” He says confused.


Derek’s eyes flash ice blue. He growls deeply and takes a step forward. Stiles puts a hand on the center of his chest. Derek calms down and instantly relaxes under his touch.

Scott is the first person to hug Stiles. Both of them draw each other into a warm hug. “Missed you too bud!” Stiles says. Scott tightens his hold on him. “Ahh,” He winces in pain. “Watch the arm.”

“Oh, sorry!” Scott releases him. “I forgot.”
“Me too,” Stiles laughs.

Each pack member takes turns hugging Stiles, all saying sweet things about how much they missed and were worried for him.

Derek is the last person to hug Stiles.

“Did Matt do all of this to you?” Derek closely examines all of his injuries.

Stiles nods at him.

Derek strokes his cheekbone and carefully pulls him into a warm embrace. Stiles throws his good arm around the back of his neck and buries his face into shoulder. They hold each other for a long time.

The werewolf picks his favorite knife up off the ground and returns it to his human. “This belongs to you.” Derek says.

“Thanks” Stiles smiles before tucking it back into his waistband.

“Let’s get you home,” Derek says. The werewolf wraps a protective arm around his human, and walks him back to his horse. Derek lifts Stiles onto the Thor’s back, and then mounts the horse as well.

Scott leads the way back home.


A large trial is held against Scott McCall and Derek Hale for attacking and causing bodily harm to Peter Hale during an undocumented interrogation. Many family and friends come to their defense. The judge, Bobby Finstock, makes the final decision not to disqualify them from their positions in the Chivalric Order due to the fact that the Kingdom of Ronan was in a time of desperate measures, and was doing whatever it took find Prince Stiles. Peter Hale is thrown into the dungeons right away for being Prince Matthew Daehler’s accomplice in the kidnapping of Prince Stiles.


There’s a knock on the door.

“Mmmm” Stiles yawns. “Come in.”

“I got you something,” Derek says.

“A present?” Stiles exclaims, more awake than ever before. He springs up so fast that he takes a nasty tumble onto the floor before quickly standing up, and pretending that didn’t just happen.

“Something like that,” Derek smirks. He pulls back the flap of his satchel bag and hands him two books.

One is a World Mythology book, and the other is an Encyclopedia of Mythical Creatures. Derek sits down beside him as Stiles flips through their pages.

“Whoa!” Stiles looks at the breathtaking illustrations. “This look awesome! Thank you.”

Derek smiles at him.

“There’s something else I want to show you,” He says.


Derek covers his eyes and leads him out to the horse stables. Stiles ends up tripping a few times before they halt at the fence.

“Okay,” Derek’s hands drop to his shoulders.

A beautiful copper coated horse races around the field beside Thor. The sunlight glistens through his long blonde mane and tail. He’s almost as tall as Derek’s horse.

“He’s yours,” Derek says.

“You got me my own horse?” Stiles exclaims with excitement. Derek nods at him. “He’s beautiful, Derek! Thank you.”

His new horse oddly bobs his head up and down. He takes unusually large steps as he approaches the fence to study Stiles.

“He’s kind of silly,” Stiles says. He uses good arm to stroke his hand down the bridge of his forehead and nose. The horse leans into his touch.

“Yes,” Deaton says, “He’s quite a character isn’t he?” before guiding two other horses back into the stable.

“I was thinking once your army fully heals,” Derek says. “You and I can take Thor and him out for a ride together.”


The werewolf and the human sit on the fence surrounding the barn. They watch Thor and the new horse gallop side by side each other in the distance. Derek wraps his arm around Stiles. Stiles snuggles into Derek’s side and happily reads his new books in his lap.

“Did you pick out a name for him yet?” Derek asks. Black fluid runs up his veins as he takes pain from Stiles’ broken arm.

“I was thinking Sif,” Stiles says. “After Thor’s wife in Nordic Mythology.”

“You know your horse is a boy right?” Derek says.

“Who cares?!” He exclaims. “Sif is badass as fuck!”

“Just making sure you know,” Derek says. The werewolf and human look out at their horses. “Thor and Sif, huh?” He eventually says. “I like that,” Derek leans in and kisses him.