Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was hard to enjoy the meal in front of him, despite the tender meat and perfectly roasted vegetables, because tomorrow he would meet his husband and weave together peace in two countries after fifteen years of war. No pressure. Stiles frowned at his dinner as if it was the cause of his current predicament. He missed his garden at home. He wished his dad was here to wrap him in a hug and tell him all would be well. He desperately wanted to hear his mother’s voice as she gave him advice on how to win over a man he would meet for the first time tomorrow. 

None of those comforts now belonged to him. His garden had been turned over to the gardeners when he departed, his father was back at the capitol preparing for the peace Stiles would hopefully achieve, and his mother had been dead for five years. 

Kira, nudged him with her shoulder. “Stop brooding. All will be fine. I’m sure he’ll like you and come to love you in time.”

“Of course the prince will fall head over heels over this guy. Who wouldn’t?” Scott gave Stiles a jaunty wink. 

Stiles looked up from his food at his two best friends. Kira’s gaze was earnest and Scott smiled as if they were out to pick berries in the sunshine rather than traveling through the Spring mud on their way to an uncertain future.

“Thanks for the encouragement.” Stiles stood. “I think I’ll turn in for the night. We have a long day tomorrow.” 

Stiles wanted to enjoy one more night in the company of just his friends but he was too nervous about tomorrow, too wrapped up in all the responsibilities that sat squarely on his shoulders. His burden followed him to bed and he slept fitfully.

They made good time the next day and the three of them reached the outer gate of Beacon, the capital of Triskel, by midday. As they passed under the first gate, Kira pulled the banner bearing the Stilinski crest, a gold shield with white stars on a field of deep blue. Stiles was sure a runner from the wall would alert the royal family of their arrival and may have already done so. He tugged on his sleeve as they rode. He had on a tunic of vibrant green with vines at the hems and stars woven where flowers would be. His Spark abilities came from his mother, but his affinity with plants was all his own.

The portcullis and gate to the inner castle was open when they approached. Stiles could see even before they entered that the courtyard was crowded with people.

“Here we go,” he muttered under his breath. “Let’s hope I don’t botch this for at least a day.” Stiles sat up straighter in the saddle and scanned the crowd.

On the steps that led into the residence, were three women and two men. The younger of the two men had dark, tightly curled hair and rich, brown skin. His arm was linked to the women standing in the middle of the stairs. Her hair was pulled back and woven into braids that wrapped around a gold circlet. They must be Queen Laura Hale and her Consort King, Robin. There were two ladies about Stiles’s age, one with coloring similar to the queen and one with brown hair and assessing green eyes. Stiles looked at the last man in the group. He was older than Stiles expected, if the man was his betrothed. He was nicely formed, with just a hint of gray at his temples. Stiles swallowed and tried not to be disappointed. He had thought Derek was closer to his age, but he was here to forge a peace first and foremost. The age and appearance of his husband-to-be shouldn’t matter.

Stiles stopped his horse when he was fifteen feet from the royal family. He dismounted and didn’t look to see if Scott and Kira followed suit. Stiles could feel the eyes of the courtyard and he wanted to be done with this. While he hated these kinds of public displays, he also knew they had their own kind of power.

Queen Laura met him at the base of the stairs. Stiles started to bow, but the queen caught him before he could execute the movement and she pulled him into a hug. He was startled enough that it took him a moment to respond in kind.

“None of that bowing if you are to be family. We are so glad you’re here, Stiles. Be welcome.” Queen Laura smiled at him and there was an openness that eased some of the nervous flutter of his stomach.

“Your highness, it’s a pleasure to be accepted into your family. May I introduce my entourage, small though it might be?” Stiles slipped into the more formal courtly speech. 

The queen had yet to release him and she squeezed his forearm. Even though he wasn’t a wolf, Stiles could feel the Alpha power in the woman before him. “Stiles, we are to be family after tomorrow. Please, call me Laura.”

“As you wish, Laura.” Stiles turned to the two behind him. “May I present Scott McCall and Kira Nakamura. They are both my friends and my personal guards. It is my hope that they be allowed to stay as long as they wish.”

Laura greeted them by clasping their forearms in a warrior’s grip. “You’re both welcome here for as long as you would like to stay. If you need anything, all you need to do is ask.”

Scott and Kira bowed in acknowledgement. Laura pulled Stiles up the stairs.

“Let me introduce you to the rest of the family.” About the man whose arm she had been on she said, “This is my King Consort, Robin. These two ladies are my youngest sister, Cora, and my cousin, Malia. The other gentleman is Malia's father, my Uncle Peter.”

The relief at finding that Peter was not his intended was short-lived because Stiles realized that there was one person missing in the introductions. Prince Derek.

As if she could read Stiles’ emotions, Laura added. “Derek wanted to be here but was detained unexpectedly. You will be able to meet him at dinner. I apologize. He is the head of the army now that I am queen and our parents are dead. He is often called away.”

Malia snorted and Cora elbowed the other woman in the side. Stiles, despite the cold disappointment in his gut, had to stifle a smile. He had a feeling that Cora and Malia would get along well with Scott, Kira, and himself.

“Cora,” Laura said, her voice pointed. “I’m sure Stiles, Scott, and Kira are tired from the journey. Please show them to their rooms.” To Stiles she said, “Dinner is at the sixth bell. I will send someone to fetch you so you don’t get lost on your first day.”

Stiles started to bow, then aborted the movement. “Thank you… Laura.”

Stiles grabbed his saddle bags and left the chests strapped to the cart they had brought along. Servants would bring the chests later. His father had insisted on outfitting him with all the traditional Peaceweaver attire and then some. 

The inside of the castle managed to be both impressive and welcoming. Stiles was thankful for the escort because he was lost after the third turn. 

“This place is a warren of hallways,” he muttered.

Cora sighed. “It is but you’ll figure it out. It’s easier on the shifters because we can smell our way.” She stopped and looked at Kira and Scott. “You smell like a wolf, a beta, but I don’t know what you are,” she said to Kira.

Kira grinned and let her animal show from her eyes. “Kitsune. On my mother’s side.”

“I’ve never met a kitsune. Do you full shift?” Cora asked.

“No, but I am fast and would love to run with you some time.”

Cora returned Kira’s open smile. “Done.” 

She led them down another hallway lined with doors. “This is the private residence. Only family stays in this wing. This is your room, Stiles.” She opened one of the doors. “It adjoins Derek’s. It’s old fashioned, but you both have your own bedrooms, but you don’t have to stay in them alone. My parents never did and Laura and Robin switch beds every few weeks, always together.” She gave Stiles a wink as she led them inside.

He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

A large window with a seat dominated the far wall and let in plenty of the afternoon light. The room itself was a mix of greens and browns with accents of red and yellow. A shelf near the window was a riot of green vines and leaves. Some flowered and others were in varying shades of greens, yellows, and even one, a deep pink and purple. Stiles’s feet drew him to the plants of their own accord. The leaves turned to him as he approached and he could feel the life in them and his power calmed in him. He hadn’t even known how on edge he had been.

Cora stepped up beside him as he ran a finger down a leaf of a purple heart plant. “Derek had these cultivated especially for you as soon as he heard your Spark had an affinity for plants.”

Stiles’s heart gave a small squeeze. His betrothed may not have made an appearance, but he had thought enough about Stiles to want him to be comfortable. 

“That was kind of him,” Kira said. “Stiles likes plants better than he likes most people.”

“Not true. I like plenty of people. I just don’t trust many people.” Stiles turned and threw the saddle bags he carried onto the bed.

There was a discreet knock on the door. 

“Come in,” Stiles said.

Eight footmen, each pair holding the side of a chest, entered the room. The first to enter, inclined his head. “Where would you like these, sire?”

Stiles showed the servants where to put the chests, then shooed everyone, including Kira and Scott, who only escaped next door to servants’ room that was accessible through a door in his wardrobe. When the door closed behind Kira, Stiles went to sit in front of the window and the plants. His nerves crackled along the Spark of his power and he tried to be still and calm. He tried for ten minutes then heaved himself up with a sigh. He needed to go outside. Surely, there was a kitchen garden or garden of some kind in the estate area. Stiles went to the window. He couldn’t see a garden from this vantage point. His window overlooked the training area for the soldiers. The view was lovely, all those men, muscles straining, but that was not the kind of relaxing Stiles needed at the moment. Not that he indulged often. 

He didn’t.

Romantic liaisons with a prince came with a lot of complications and expectations that Stiles was loath to maneuver around. Most of the time, it wasn’t worth it. Now, he wouldn’t need to worry about that. At this time tomorrow, he would be legally bound to another and hopefully that relationship could grow into something more than an obligation of peace.

A vise wound round his chest and Stiles knew he needed to get outside, needed to feel the earth under his feet so he could be grounded in this new place and stop the claws of anxiety from sinking into him. Stiles closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened his power and awareness. His connection to plants meant that they blazed brightest in his mind and, just there, he could sense an extensive gardens to the west of where he stood. Stiles grinned and went in search of some peace of his own. 

It took him more than thirty minutes and he got lost three times. The last time, he broke down and asked a servant he found dusting a banister the quickest way to the kitchen. Stiles followed the man’s impeccable directions and walked through a door into what was organized chaos. The kitchen staff who noticed him froze.

“What are you lazy arse holes doing? Do I need to find someone else who won’t go slack-jawed at someone coming through your door? We have a feast tonight and tomorrow to manage so get to work, you moldy, rotten excuses for chefs.” A woman who easily had six inches on Stiles and arms that rippled with muscle stomped towards him.

“Pardon me, ma’am. I’m looking for the kitchen gardens. I wanted to walk in them.” Stiles inclined his head for good measure.

The woman stopped two feet from him and put her hands on her hips. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and she was younger than the rasp of her voice suggested, probably from hours spent over a wood stove and fire.

“You must be the Peaceweaver,” she said.

Stiles swallowed his surprise. “I am.”

The woman bobbed a curtsey. “Matilda, at your service, sire. The kitchen gardens are just out that door and the family and public gardens are beyond that.”

Stiles inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“It’s a few hours since dinner yet,” Matilda walked to a side cupboard, pulled down a cloth, and tucked a couple pastries inside. She handed them to Stiles. “Here’s something to tide you over.” Matilda paused and looked straight into Stiles’s eyes. “I lost my brother and my father to the war.”

Stiles braced himself for animosity.

“I’m glad you’re here. It’s long past time for peace.” Her eyes filled but she blinked and stepped away from Stiles. “Come back anytime you need something.”

Stiles had to clear his throat before speaking. “Thank you again, Mistress Matilda.”

Once he was in the garden, he opened the cloth wrapped bundle and revealed two apple pastries. Stiles bit into the first one, tart and full of cinnamon, he hummed as he moved through the pathway between well-maintained beds of herbs. As he walked, Stiles sent out tendrils of power to the plants around him, opening up his awareness to all the life around him. The pulsing green of the gardens in front of him and beyond felt familiar, much more familiar than the chaotic-feeling life forces of the humans beyond the garden and his awareness.

Stiles took his first full breath since getting up this morning. He kept walking until the herb beds gave way to ones with flowers and shrubs with benches sat into alcoves and arbors. He kept his awareness open, which is how he sensed that there was someone in the garden, before he turned the corner of one of the hedges and saw a man pacing around a small lily pond. 

The man turned towards Stiles, nostrils flaring. Wolf, was the first thing Stiles thought. The second was that the man looked both deadly and handsome. He had defined cheekbones and a strong chin. His dark beard was close cropped and his hair was short on the sides, but longer on top in the style many soldiers wore. From the broad shoulders and firm build, Stiles would guess this man was a soldier. The man’s eyebrows rose as he pinned Stiles with eyes that were much too vibrant to be called a simple hazel. 

Stiles realized he’d been caught staring, with his mouth open. He snapped his jaw shut, only to open it again and say, “Um. Sorry. To disturb you. And for staring. I would say I‘m not normally so rude, but I often find myself in a situation most people would find embarrassing and then needing to apologize. Like I am now.” The bush behind the man budded and burst into flower. “Apologizing, that is.”

Stiles made his mouth stop moving but he could feel his face flush. It was not his fault the man’s beauty was making him even more awkward than normal.

That straight nose flared again and the man’s eyebrows dipped down. “I don’t know you.”

The lilies in the pond grew fresh pods and began to flower. Stiles pulled in all the tendrils of his power before he grew an entire new garden. He straightened his shoulders. “I’m not surprised since I arrived just this afternoon.”

The man continued to stare at Stiles and Stiles looked at the man again. His clothes were too fine to belong to a gardener or a servant. Perhaps this was one of the aristocracy. Stiles needed to be as diplomatic as possible, despite the stranger having little or no manners. 

Stiles tried again. “I’m the Peaceweaver, but you can call me Stiles. I haven't met many people yet so lucky you, you’re one of the first.”

The stranger’s eyebrows dipped even lower, if that was possible. “Stiles.” It was said without any inflection, but Stiles still felt the sounds down into his bones.

Stiles rocked back on his heels and gave the man what he hoped was a charming smile. “That’s my name.” Stiles waited and the man said nothing more. Stiles brazened forward. “See, this is the part where you tell me your name then we can become acquaintances and maybe even friends because gods knows I’m going to need some.”

The man’s mouth thinned before he said, “Derek.”

Something clicked in Stiles’s brain and a tendril of horror swept through him. This taciturn man who hadn’t bothered to meet him when he arrived was his intended? “Prince Derek?”

Derek nodded. 

Stiles decided the best way was forward. Both of their families had already agreed to this so there was no use in hoping he had made a better impression or that Derek was less of an grump 

“I’m glad to be able to meet you before dinner. I was worried when you weren’t there to greet us that you’d changed your mind and were running for the forest, though I should warn you, hiding in the forest from me is a lost endeavor.” Stiles waggled his fingers at Derek. “I’m sure they told you but my Spark affinity is for plants.” Stiles wanted to clamp a hand over his mouth. 

“I was detained elsewhere,” Derek said.

Stiles took two steps closer to Derek, putting them within arm’s length of each other. “I’m glad you’re here now. Thank you, by the way, for the plants. They are beautiful.” 

Derek didn’t respond verbally but he did incline his head and his eyebrows smoothed out. 

Never one to back down from a silence, Stiles said, “These gardens are lovely. I don’t want to presume, but I’d like to spend time here and work with the garden staff, if I may.”

Derek’s posture relaxed a fraction. “This is your home now too.”

“Wonderful.” Stiles took another step closer to Derek and was going to suggest a walk or a tour of the gardens when Derek spoke.

“This union is important to our people and I will cherish you as Peaceweaver should be but I know this is not what you would have chosen as it was not my choice either.”

Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but Derek held up a hand to silence him before continuing. “I know you understand your duty as much as I do. Our people and our lands deserve peace.”

Stiles reached out and took Derek’s hand. It was warm and strong, calloused from holding a sword, and Stiles squeezed it. “I am happy to be able to give this peace to our people. I always knew I would be married in service to my people as the only son of my parents. They had a love match and I hope that eventually there will be affection between us, regardless of the obligation that brought us together.”

Derek’s hand tightened on his and Stiles was hopeful until Derek said, “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“Why would I be disappointed?”

Derek released Stiles’s hand and took a step back. Derek clenched his hands and Stiles fisted his own by his side to keep him from snatching Derek back to him. 

“You don’t have to pretend. I want you to know that I will never pressure you to give more than you are willing. Our people need this peace, but neither of us asked for marriage. We can be joined and bind the peace, but we do not have to share a bed. We will be political partners, but we will have a political marriage only.” Derek’s words were strong and quiet but every one of them ripped a piece from Stiles’s chest.

“You won’t consummate the marriage?”

Derek swallowed and looked away. “No, but we need not tell anyone else that.” When Derek looked at him again, his face was carefully blank but his body was as tight as a bow. “I would appreciate it though if you would use discretion should you choose to take another to your bed.”

“I have no intention of doing that,” Stiles words were more angry than he intended. He was shocked he could even be angry with how his heart was breaking. He wanted a marriage. He wanted a family. He had been thrilled and nervous at the prospect of being married, even if it was for political reasons. He wanted a partner, a friend.

It looked like he was going to get none of those things if Derek had anything to do with it.

“What if I don’t agree?”

Derek’s eyes flashed blue and he closed the distance between them, growling. “You want to parade your lovers before me? Is the man or woman you brought with you one of them?”

Stiles placed both hands on Derek’s chest and even in anger he could feel how hard the muscles were. Stiles pushed. “No, you idiot. Those are my friends and bodyguards. I don’t have any lovers and I don’t plan on taking any. I came here to get married, apparently to the biggest asshole on the planet.”

Derek took a step back. “Like I said, we will weave the peace. That is all. We don’t have to like each other for that.” 

Derek turned and walked away from Stiles. Stiles stood, rooted to the spot. His feelings and power leaked everywhere. The flowers that had bloomed so recently withered and the grass in the circle where he stood yellowed, browned, and died. Stiles cursed and stomped back towards his rooms.

***

Derek fled Stiles, ran away like the absolute coward he was, berating himself the entire time at the look of crushed want in his betrothed’s face as he fled. His wolf clawed at him to go back but Derek wrenched his animal under control. He was not an adolescent pup at the mercy of his wolf. Derek had imagined meeting Stiles so many times in the last three months, but none of them had prepared him for the beautiful man in his garden. The power that had radiated from Stiles and the humor that filled those deep amber eyes had been Derek’s undoing. All the words and carefully thought out speeches he had practiced had fled his mind. He had stood before Stiles and felt at war with his wolf on what should be done. 

It was too late. Stiles would not want much to do with Derek now, which was for the best. His past experience with romance had caused too much sorrow for everyone around him. He did not think he could trust anyone with his heart ever again. The consequences this time were too high. Two nations were looking to them to form a bond for peace. They didn’t care if the match was one of love. It just needed to happen and it needed to last.

Derek started to go towards his rooms, but before he turned down the hallway he caught the scent of green plants and sunshine and remembered that Stiles’s room would be next to his. He increased his pace and continued down the hallway past their doors, opening the servants’ passage and going down until he was in the basement. He went through the cellar to the room, a closet really, in the farthest back corner. Derek closed the door and sank to the rug that covered the packed earth of the room. 

This had been the childhood refuge of him and his sisters when things were too tense or they needed space to think. It was quiet down here, the presence of so many people muffled by the earth and thick stone walls. Derek pulled his knees to his chest and pressed his forehead to his knees. 

He could have handled that better. He could not go back and change it now. It was better for Stiles to think him an asshole than to run the risk of actually learning to like Derek. Derek stilled his thoughts and took deep breaths. He had to be courteous to Stiles, he had to treat him like something precious, and he had to make sure that Stiles had everything he needed to be happy. Derek just had to figure out a way to do it without falling too deeply into those warm, brown eyes. 

Derek made sure he was early to dinner to make up for not being there to welcome Stiles. In truth, Derek had been too afraid to meet Stiles at the gate. He had forced himself to stay away, but Laura gave him an earful as he sat down at the high table.  

“I expected you earlier today.” There was just enough of a hint of alpha power in her voice that Derek swung his head down. “You need to make up for that slight by trying to be charming.”

“So nothing like his actual personality at all,” Cora said as she plopped into the chair next to Laura.

Derek glared at his youngest sister, but Laura leaned forward to get into his line of sight. “You will do your duty in this, brother, and that means being welcoming to your betrothed and his guard.”

“Speaking of his guard,” the other female voice he did not need riding his ass sounded to his left. “You ditched us today.” Erica and Boyd, a mated pair, who had been his personal guards since they were gangly cubs, took their place behind his chair.

“We can’t guard you if you slip away from us.” Boyd’s voice was deep and soft but Derek still heard the admonition in it.

“I needed some time alone,” Derek said, taking a sip of his wine.

Laura grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed. It was both a show of affection as his sister and a show of who was in control over him from his Alpha. “If you object to this, it’s not too late. I’ll figure something else out, but we need this marriage to happen.”

The thought of adding another layer of disappointment to the way Derek had left Stiles in the garden churned his stomach. His wolf was in agreement that they would follow through with the wedding though the wolf had very different reasons than the man. The wolf already thought of Stiles as his . Derek needed the peace for his people. It didn’t matter that the motivations of him and his wolf differed. Derek would be marrying Stiles unless Stiles backed out.

“I met Stiles today in the garden. We have an agreement and I do not wish to break the betrothal,” Derek said, his eyes on his sister and the heat of her power on his neck.

Laura smiled and released his neck. “Good. I’m glad you spoke to him. He seemed nice enough when he arrived.”

“He certainly is easy on the eyes,” Malia said as she settled herself on her chair next to Cora.

A surge of jealousy from his wolf ran through him and Derek growled at his cousin.

“Keep it in your pants, Malia. He’s going to be a part of this family.” Cora elbowed her hard enough that Malia’s breath rushed out and she bent over. There was a smile on her lips though.

A scent in the doorway distracted Derek, green and sunshine overlaid with nervous energy. Derek’s head swiveled and saw Stiles walking in, flanked by two guards. From the way they carried themselves, both were something other than human. Derek took a deep breath and sensed a wolf and something else. That was all the thought he gave to the other two because Stiles was moving towards him and Derek was aware that this was their first public meeting. Every pair of eyes in the great hall was on them. Derek stood and went around the table to formally meet his betrothed.

Stiles had a political smile on his face, one that did not reach his eyes, and Derek wanted to kick himself. He reached out to Stiles when he was close enough and took his hand. He tried to give Stiles the most genuine smile he could, one that said I’m sorry, it’s for the best, I still need a partner and friend, please help me make this work .

Stiles interlaced their fingers and squeezed. Derek lifted their joined hands and places a light kiss to the back of Stiles’s hand.

“Welcome to Triskel. I am honored to have you here. Will you join me at the table?” Derek knew Stiles could hardly refuse, but he hoped the words conveyed the sincerity he needed Stiles to see.

Stiles winked at Derek, lifted their hands, and pressed his lips to the back of Derek’s hand in a mirror of what Derek had done. “I am the one who is honored to be joining you and your family.” 

There was a collective sigh from the room and it was then that Derek knew without a doubt that Stiles was much better at politics than he could ever be. No onlooker would think anything other than that Stiles was already smitten with his intended. Derek was glad to be able to give people what they wanted to see, but he would also be lying if Stiles’s touch hadn’t just elevated his heart rate. 

Derek could still feel the heat of Stiles’s lips on his hand as he led Stiles to the chair beside his own. Stiles’s two guards, Erica and Boyd, moved to sit at the table directly to the left of them. After they both scooted their chairs in, Derek turned to Stiles to find the other man looking at him, a smile, genuine this time, on his face. Derek gave Stiles a small smile and turned back to the room. 

Laura stood, raising a hand. Once the room quieted, she said, “Thank you for joining us for this welcome feast. Today, we honor the arrival of the Peaceweaver, Stiles Stilinski, Prince of Astoria. May this be the first day of many days and years of peace.” Laura raised her glass. “To new beginnings and peace.”

“To new beginnings and peace,” echoed through the room.

Laura continued, “Tomorrow morning is the betrothal hunt and then the marriage ceremony will take place at dusk in the chapel followed by another feast. Tonight, eat well and celebrate.”

Derek could think of nothing to say. Small talk had never been a skill he had mastered. It had always been easier to let his sisters carry the conversation while he stayed in the background. It was a few minutes into the meal before Laura rescued him from coming up with something, anything to say.

She leaned around Derek and asked, “Stiles, Derek said he spoke to you earlier. I hope he was able to show you around your new home.”

Stiles’s smile tightened then tipped up in something that looked genuine. “I was walking through the gardens. Matilda, the mistress in charge of the kitchen directed me, and Derek found me there.”

“What did you think of the gardens?” Laura asked before taking a sip of her wine.

The first real twinkle crept into Stiles’s eyes since entering the room. “They are quite extensive. I was only able to see part of them, but I would like to spend more time in them, if Your Highness permits it. My Spark gives me an affinity for plants and I think I can enhance some of the efficiency and beauty of your gardens.” Stiles paused, eyes flicking to Derek before settling back onto Laura. “I enjoy being outside and I’m not sure what my other responsibilities will be.”

Laura reached in front of Derek and wrapped her hand around Stiles’s wrist to squeeze it. “Please, call me Laura. We are going to be family, after all. You may spend as much time in the  garden as you would like. I want you to be happy here, Stiles.”

Laura did not remove her hand from Stiles and Derek could feel his wolf bubbling to the surface in protest. Stiles was his . Laura may be his Alpha, but the wolf did not like her touching Stiles. A low growl reverberated from his chest, almost too low for human ears, but both Laura and Stiles looked at him. Stiles with narrowed eyes and Laura with a face that looked like she was on the verge of laughing. She released Stiles and straightened in her chair. 

Derek looked straight ahead and shoveled food into his mouth. Angry at himself. He didn’t care who touched Stiles. He had told the man to take whatever lovers he wanted so his sister being friendly should not matter.

Stiles, ignoring the tension, said, “So there’s going to be a hunt tomorrow? We don’t have marriage hunts in Astoria. We tend to plant trees and have a feast.”

Cora leaned forward and replied, “A successful hunt is the sign of favor on a marriage. While everyone is encouraged to bring in some trophy and meat for the feast, it is especially important for Derek, as the Hale in the marriage, to bring the best offering.”

“Is this a bad time to tell you I’m a vegetarian?” Stiles asked with his amber brown eyes open wide.

All the heads close enough to hear the conversation stopped. Cora’s mouth opened a few times then closed in a frown.

Laura sighed. “That certainly would have been better to know before we planned the hunt and the feast itself.”

Stiles doubled over with wheezing laughter. “Gods, your faces. Of course I’m not a vegetarian. Bacon is too delicious and I’m betrothed to a carnivore.”

Laughter erupted around the room. 

Malia slammed her hand on the table. “Stiles, welcome to the family. You’re going to fit right in.”

Stiles winked at her then kept laughing. Derek drank in the sight of the man next to him laughing and knew Stiles would indeed interlock with his family easily. It would make avoiding the man even more of a task if Derek was going to protect his own heart.    

***

Derek bowed and allowed Stiles to tie a green ribbon around his upper arm. 

“I still can’t believe I’m not allowed to go. It seems a bit unfair.” The pout on Stiles’s face looked adorable and Derek tried not to show how much it amused him.

“It’s part of the ritual. I have to show that I can provide for you.” Derek straightened and wrapped his hand around Stiles’s neck. It was the first time he had willingly touched him since last night when they had greeted each other at dinner, even though they sat together during breakfast and the festivities before the hunt. Derek tightened his grip on Stiles and Derek could feel the pulse of Stiles’s heart and the hum of his magic on his skin. It was a heady combination.

Stiles stopped moving at the pressure on his neck. Even though he was not a wolf, it was like he knew this touch meant connection, Pack, and affection.

“I never thought I would be wooed with a dead animal, but I’ll do my best to appreciate it appropriately.” A smile broke over Stiles’s face and Derek’s chest constricted.

Derek swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Thank you for understanding.” Before he said anything stupid, Derek bowed and went to stand next to Cora and Erica. Scott was beside Malia on the line, having opted to join the ritual. Kira stood behind Stiles as guard while the hunt happened.

An arrow soared across the field, a sign the hunt had begun. Anticipation raced through Derek as he sprinted across the field. As soon as he hit the cover of the trees, he shucked his trousers, over tunic, and tunic, then changed. His wolf had been close to the surface ever since Stiles arrived and the change was swift. Derek howled as he ran into the forest. 

For the first part of the hunt, Derek just ran, happy to leave behind some of his human worries in this form. As a wolf, he had one purpose, to provide for and protect his mate and his wolf was determined to be the best mate possible to Stiles, despite what the human side of him had determined to be the best course of action. Soon, he scented the perfect prey in the air and he ran in pursuit of a bull elk not far from where he had stopped for a drink of water from a stream.

Derek approached the animal upwind, advancing in inches, and using every lesson his mother taught him. He wanted to bring this back to Stiles, wanted Stiles to smile at him again. As a wolf, he didn’t even question this desire or suppress it.

The elk paused and so did Derek, a dance they continued until Derek was within striking distance. He bunched his muscles and leapt at the bull. He had to strike out of range of the antlers and the front hooves which could easily gut a wolf. Derek zeroed in on the vulnerable underbelly of the elk, ripping it open in a gush of blood. The elk bellowed and tried to walk but tripped and fell. Derek grabbed the animal in his teeth and ripped out his throat, the warm blood like liquid energy on his tongue. 

That’s when he heard it. A yell, followed by a burst of energy that smelled like green plants, somewhere to his left. 

Stiles, his Stiles, was in trouble.

Derek dropped the bull elk and sprinted in the direction of the sound. He pushed his muscles until they screamed and he was halfway there when he heard another sound, that of a wild bear, known for being vicious and grumpy this time of year, just out of hibernation and hungry. Derek increased his speed and burst into a clearing just as a forest bear began charging towards Stiles. Vines erupted from the ground and twined towards the bear as it surged forward but they snapped before they could slow the beast down. The bear was too enraged to be stopped by the plants.

Derek launched himself in front of Stiles and growled, puffing up his chest and arching his back. In his wolf form, he was almost as large as the bear, but the animal barely hesitated as it plowed forward. Derek was in the worst possible position, right in front of the paws and massive jaw that can do him harm, but he had to keep the animal from reaching Stiles. 

Derek threw himself forward, opening his jaws wide and ducking under the panting head of the beast. Derek could feel the fat around the animal’s neck as he tried to clamp down. There was a pain that seared down his chest where the bear must have gotten him with a claw, but Derek hung on and shakes. Finally, he can feel the skin give and his fangs break through the flesh of the bear’s neck. His nostrils fill with the smell of blood and he doesn’t know if it’s his own or the bear’s. 

The subtle smell of Stiles’s magic starts to fill the clearing as well and Derek can just see vines as they work their way over the legs and back of the bear now that it has stopped moving. Derek shakes his head, jaws aching and clamping down. He finally feels the arteries give and the bear goes down with a squeal that ends in a grunt. Derek gives the animal one more shake to make sure it is really dead then pries his jaws open and steps back, head low and sides heaving. 

“Derek, gods, Derek.” Stiles lands on his knees beside Derek. “You’re hurt.” Stiles’s hands are shaking and the other  man reeks of fear.

Derek can’t ask the questions he needed to in this form so he shifted. He was on his knees, naked in front of Stiles, but he didn’t care about that. Derek’s hands moved over Stiles’s arms and torso, looking for injuries. His heart was in his throat and he felt like he couldn’t get a full breath in. Stiles had been in danger and he hadn’t been there to protect him. He’d failed, again. 

“I’m fine. You’re the one that’s hurt. I’m fine. Derek, your chest.” Stiles eyes were wide and the tang of fear was everywhere in the clearing.

Derek cupped Stiles’s face in his hands. “Are you okay? Did it hurt you? I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I’m so sorry.”

Stiles covered Derek’s hands with his own. “You’re sorry. You almost died! I’m fine. Derek look at your chest!” 

It was the shaking and clear panic in Stiles’s eyes that made Derek look down. A nasty gash ran down the side of his ribs. The skin was jagged and torn, but not deep. Derek could already feel his heeling starting to kick in.

“I’m fine. It’s healing,” Derek said and touched his forehead to Stiles’s. “Are you sure you’re ok?”

Derek could hear Stiles swallow and he felt him nod. 

“Yes. Are you sure you’re going to heal okay? It looks bad.”

Before Derek could answer, there was a crashing in the woods around them and Kira, Malia, Scott, Erica, Boyd, and a couple other people Derek could not see joined them. There were a lot of questions and yelling but Derek had one thing on his mind.

He stood and stalked to Kira, his wolf shinning blue from his eyes. “Where were you?” he growled. “You were supposed to keep him safe. He wasn’t safe. He could have died!” Derek was growling so loud by the end that he could barely form the words around the teeth erupting from his gums.

“Derek, stop.” Stiles hand was a cool balm on his arm, but his gaze did not waver from Kira.

“She is to blame for this,” he said, not wanting Stiles to see that this was as much his fault as Kira’s.

“Derek. Derek, look at me,” Stiles voice was low and calm and Derek allowed it to calm him. “Derek, I asked her to let me into the woods. I wanted to walk through the woods while we waited. I admit I was hoping to run into you. It’s not her fault.”

Derek growled at Kira, but then turned and faced Stiles. “I do not want to lose you.” The words came out of Derek’s mouth before he could stop them and, by the look on Stiles’s face, Stiles was just as surprised as Derek that they had been spoken.

Stiles’s face softened. “I don’t want to lose you either, but you are hurt and someone should look at that. Wolf of not, that needs to be cleaned up.”

Derek nodded and the realization that he was still naked in front of Stiles hit him. 

As if she could read his mind, Erica stepped up beside him and handed him a pair of trousers. Derek nodded his thanks and pulled them on. Stiles averted his gaze, mostly, but Derek caught him peeking once. 

Once he was half clothed, Derek said, “There’s a bull elk half a mile that way,” he pointed in the direction of his kill.

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and interlaced their fingers. “An elk and a bear. Surely that is more than enough luck for one marriage. I’ve had enough hunting for one day. Come, you need to get cleaned up. There are plenty of other people to finish things here.”

Derek allowed Stiles to lead him away from the dead bear and back towards the field where the hunt had begun. Now that the adrenaline of the hunt and his fear for Stiles had worn off, Derek was ashamed he had growled at Kira. He was the only one at fault. Heart heavy and head low, Derek followed Stiles.

Stiles led him to Deaton, who was set up as an aid station on the side of the field in an open tent. Deaton was his usual laconic self and went to work without much conversation. Derek was thankful he was not expected to make small talk. Stiles’s warm, brown eyes followed his every move and the other man didn’t let go of Derek’s the entire time.

Once Derek was bandaged, Stiles handed him a cup of watered wine and ordered him to drink. Once Stiles was satisfied that Derek was fine, they joined the picnic happening in the field. Stiles was quiet next to Derek and Derek desperately wanted to know if Stiles was having second thoughts. Derek still felt shaky from seeing Stiles in danger and kept close to Stiles the entire lunch. 

Too soon, Kira and Scott came to take Stiles to get ready for the evening vows and feast. 

Stiles leaned into Derek and said in a low voice by Derek’s ear, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Derek nodded and lifted up his tunic where the gash was now an angry welt.

“Thank you.”

Derek felt the words across his cheek as much as he heard them. He didn’t know what to say, so he reached out and wrapped his hand around Stiles’s wrist. He tightened his hand then let Stiles go.

***

Stiles could still feel a sliver of fear in his stomach, but it was quickly being overcome by two things, hope, because of the real expression of concern Derek had shown after the bear incident this morning, and curling desire, because Derek had been beautiful naked, even covered in blood and injured. Derek might have said he wanted a marriage in name only, but there had been real concern for Stiles pouring from the other man this morning. Stiles knew it was probably wrong but the way Derek looked and sounded as he growled at Kira had sent a flood of desire through his senses. After all that, Derek had been glued to his side and always touching him. 

Yes, Stiles was definitely hopeful that something had changed for the better.

Stiles was buoyant as he let Kira and Scott dress him in the traditional marriage garment of a Peaceweaver. He wore trousers and a tunic, but the over-tunic was long and blood red, split up the sides to his hips and fitted to his frame. A Peaveweaver’s official robes and garments were always red, to signify the blood that the peace would stop and the sacrifice of the Peaceweaver for the people. There were bell sleeves, a gossamer veil, and a red headpiece that looked more like a crown to Stiles. It was traditional, but he could have done without the headpiece. 

There was a knock on the door as Kira smoothed out an invisible wrinkle. Scott opened the door and Laura stepped into the chamber.

She paused then rushed to stand in front of Stiles. “You look wonderful. I am so glad you’re here and not just for the political implications.”

“Thank you.” The words were inadequate. “I would have done much worse to end the war. This seemed like a solution that had the possibility of giving me a happiness that contained more than peace.” Stiles was still holding out that this marriage would result in a partnership and family. Derek was not indifferent to him. He knew it.

Laura pulled a box from a pocket in her skirt. I have brought you something to wear. It belonged to my father, who was a human, as you know. My mother gave it to him on their marriage day. I want you to wear it and keep it to show you are a welcome member of the Hale family.”

The chain was the width of Stiles thumb, with interlocking chains that were made to look like vines that met in the middle with a howling wolf. “It’s beautiful.”

Laura grinned and pulled it from the box and began fastening it to Stiles’s over-tunic. “My father’s family were landowners who, generations back, saved the kingdom by sharing the harvest of their fields during a famine. My mother had this made for him to remind him that together they would care for the kingdom.”

Warmth spread through Stiles. “There are not enough words to express my gratitude.” He bowed to Laura.

She took both of his hands and said, “Derek has a good soul, but he is quiet. It will take time to warm him from the ice he has built. Please be patient with him, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded. It was what he had already guessed and he had no intention of giving up on his would-be husband easily. “I will. I promise. This means a lot to me.”

Laura wrapped Stiles in a bone-crunching hug then left Stiles alone again. It was soon time to make his way to the chapel and Stiles steadied himself.

The chapel was in the corner of the inner part of the castle, nestled on the opposite side from the residence. Unlike the residence and the surrounding castle, the chapel was designed for beauty, not protection. Large stained glass windows in a kaleidoscope of colors dominated the front facade, with two tall bell towers and a soaring roof in the middle. The sun had just sunk below the horizon and the lights pouring out of the window painted the courtyard in every hue imaginable.  

Stiles hesitated outside the door and Scott stepped up to put a hand on the door. 

“Ready?” he asked

“It’s too late now if I’m not,” Stiles quipped. 

A pained look crossed Scott’s face and Kira made a sound of distress.

Stiles slapped Scott on the back. “I’m joking, Scotty. I’m ready. I want to do this.”

Scott opened the door and Stiles stepped into the interior of the chapel.

Candles by the hundreds were lit, giving the air a warm glow and filling the space with the smell of beeswax and sage. Two rows of pews filled the space, but that was the last thing Stiles noticed because Derek was at the end of the aisle.

Derek stood straight and stiff, resplendent in all black with a gold circlet around his head. The cut of his tunic accentuated his shoulders and, even from this far away, Stiles could feel the power radiating from him. Music started playing somewhere and Stiles made his feet move forward. He kept his eyes locked on Derek. Derek’s eyes never wavered either and when Stiles was close enough, Derek held out his hand to Stiles. 

When Stiles took Derek’s hand, he felt the snap of his Spark reach out for Derek’s wolf. Derek’s hand tightened on his and Stiles could not help the smile that found its way to his face. Derek’s mouth twitched up in something that was not quite a smile. Stiles loved it.

“Who is here to bear witness to this union from Triskel?” Deaton, the man who had helped Derek after the hunting accident this morning asked. His voice broke through the gleeful hope running through Stiles that this could work out. 

Laura stood and said, “I, Laura Hale, Queen of Triskel and first of my name, bear witness and offer the blessing of the kingdom to this union that it may create a binding peace with Astoria.”

“Who is here to bear witness from Astoria?” Deaton asked.

Scott and Kira stood. ”We are by the power given to us by our monarch, King Noah Stilinski of Astoria. We come bearing his blessing of this union that it may create a binding peace with Triskel.”

Deaton asked one more time. “Are there any other witnesses to this peace?”

The entire chapel stood and the people said, “We are witnesses.”

Their voices echoed with strength and conviction. Stiles could feel the magic of the witness’s vows weaving around them. 

The rest of the vows were standard to a traditional marriage until they came to the end. With each layer of vows, Stiles could feel the weave tighten in a comforting way, much like a blanket against a cold evening.

Deaton asked, “Stiles, do you promise to cherish Derek and this peace with all that you have until you breathe no more?”

Stiles looked at Derek and squeezed the hands that still joined them. “I will.”

Deaton asked the same question of Derek. “Derek, do you promise to cherish Stiles and this peace with all that you have until you breathe no more?”

Stiles’s breath caught when Derek hesitated, but Derek’s mouth tilted up at the corners only in a movement so quick Stiles would have missed it if he hadn’t been staring intently at Derek’s face. 

“I will.”

Deaton nodded. “A peace that has been woven with intention and love cannot be cast aside by humans or magic. May this union serve as an ongoing reminder that peace and love have more value than war and death.” To Derek and Stiles he said, “Please turn around so I may present you to the gathering.”

Derek released Stiles’s hand to turn and Stiles was quick to reach for Derek’s other hand as soon as he was able. Derek’s hand was firm but it trembled in Stiles’s grip. 

Stiles held on to Derek and leaned closer to say in a quiet voice. “I’m here with you.”

Derek’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

Behind them, Deaton said, “I present to you the Princes Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski, woven together.”

The clapping and cheering of the crowd was deafening. Stiles lifted their joined hands and the noise increased and reverberated off the walls. Everyone in this chapel had lost someone to the war. Many had lost their entire families. No one was without scars and Stiles saw the hope that shone in their eyes that this was the start of something new, something better. Stiles was swept away by the emotion in the room. That was the only excuse he had for what he did next. 

Stiles pulled on Derek’s arm, rotated them so that they were again facing each other, and closed the distance between them. Stiles meant for the kiss to be a short, chaste one, a kiss to seal the contract. Derek’s mouth opened in surprise and Stiles followed his instinct and accepted the opening given.

Stiles deepened the kiss, slicking his tongue into Derek’s mouth. He had a second of remorse that he had done a very bad, wrong thing, but then Derek growled and released Stiles’s hands. Derek’s right hand grasped the back of Stiles’s neck and his left hand snaked around Stiles’s waist to pull him closer. Wolf whistles, wolf whistles , Stiles thought with glee, were heard over the clapping.

Derek’s kiss was insistent and quickly reversed the scales on Stiles as Derek plundered into Stiles mouth. Stiles was overcome with heat and the rush of desire. He fisted his hands in Derek’s tunic and everything around them dropped away.

Derek broke the kiss first, his eyes wide and glowing bright blue. Stiles swayed forward and Derek steadied him with his hands still twisted in the hair at Stiles’s neck and gripping tightly into Stiles’s waist. Stiles could feel warmth creeping up his face and he grinned like a man who didn’t care in the slightest that he had just been seduced in front of a room full of people. Derek’s mouth thinned out into a thin line before he relaxed into something more neutral. Stiles did not have time to ponder that reaction before Derek grabbed his hand and led him slowly down the aisle. 

The feast was in the main courtyard of the castle, which was decorated with flowers, ribbons, and trestles of food. In one corner, a small group of musicians played, and the area was soon packed with people. Derek and Stiles stood in a receiving line for a long time. Stiles made the best of it, but watched as Derek became more and more withdrawn with every new person. 

After Stiles greeted the Duke of wherever the hell and his wife, Stiles leaned around the next couple and addressed the end of the line. “Many pardons, everyone. We need to sit and eat some of the delicious food the kitchens have been working on for days. We will be happy to speak to each of you after.”

There were some disappointed grumbles, but the line dispersed and went in search of their own food and drink. Stiles tugged Derek over to where his family sat with Scott and Kira. He pushed Derek down into an open chair next to Malia. A zing of satisfaction went though Stiles when Derek allowed himself to be manhandled that way. 

“I’ll be right back,” Stiles said to Derek before turning back and heading towards the food tables. 

Stiles wasn’t sure what his new husband… husband, ha! he thought… liked to eat, so he piled two plates high with a little bit of everything. He asked a passing servant to bring two glasses of wine to the royal party. The servant bowed and scurried to obey.

Stiles presented Derek with one of the plates. “You looked like you could use a break.”

“I didn’t,” Derek stumbled over the words then said, “Yes, thank you.” 

His eyes showed with more gratitude than a plate of food warranted and Stiles felt his face heat again. Derek’s eyes heated as they followed Stiles’s every movement. Derek continued to stare at Stiles with an open yearning that Stiles was both surprised and delighted to see. 

When the staring contest went on, Stiles shifted in his seat. 

Cora laughed. “Derek’s waiting for you to take the first bite. You are his now and his wolf wants you to be provided for before it sees to itself.”

“You didn’t know this, Stiles, but providing food for a wolf is the same as declaring to the room at large that the wolf belongs to you.” Laura smirked. “That or it means the same thing as if you would’ve stripped yourself naked and sat in his lap.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow in Laura’s direction. “How come no one ever told me that was an option?”

Malia choked, then started laughing so hard she almost fell off her chair. Stiles focused on Derek again and very deliberately lifted a piece of meat to his mouth and chewed it very slowly. The tender meat didn’t need that much mastication, but Stiles enjoyed the heat that was flaring in Derek’s eyes. The flame of hope that had been threatening to grow all day, filled Stiles. Regardless of what Derek said with words, his body clearly showed that he was not immune to Stiles. 

Derek tore his eyes from Stiles and began to eat his own food, stealing glances at Stiles that were not quite as subtle as Derek probably thought they were. Stiles was buoyed by the hope he felt and that carried him through the rest of the evening which was a blur of new faces, music, and laughter. Through all of it, Derek was a constant source of heat on Stiles’s right side. Derek never let Stiles more than a few feet from him and Stiles kept a hold of Derek’s hand or arm. 

When the party was starting to wind down, Derek leaned into Stiles and asked in a low voice, “Are you ready to retire?”

Derek’s breath tickled Stiles’s ear and his voice traveled across Stiles’s skin, leaving warmth and need in its wake. Stiles nodded, unable to use words. He was buoyed to his feet with a sharp certainty that today had changed things. Stiles grasped onto the feeling and let himself believe that he could have the things he’d wanted all his life, a partner and a family of his own.

Derek walked Stiles over to where Laura and the rest of the Hale family sat. “We will take our leave of the festivities, with your blessing.”

Laura raised her glass to them. “By all means, please go and acquaint yourselves with each other.”

Malia smirked. 

Peter, who had for the most part been silent, said, “Do us proud, nephew. You seem to have been more successful in your choice of partners than you have previously.”

Derek stiffened and growled.

Laura elbowed Peter in the face and Stiles heard his nose crack. “That is for being an ass on Derek’s wedding day.”

Peter grinned even as his nose started to bleed. “Worth it.”

With each step that took them closer to their adjoining bedrooms, Stiles’s heart rate increased. He knew that Derek could probably hear it with his enhanced hearing, knew that Derek could probably smell the barely concealed need rolling off Stiles. He was practically vibrating by the time Derek opened Stiles’s door. Stiles walked through the door, ripped his headdress off, and threw it on the floor. 

“I’ve been wanting to get that thing off almost since the moment I put it on.” He turned around to find Derek watching him with his back against the closed door.

“Thank you for today. I am honored that you have chosen to bind this peace with me,” Derek’s tone was formal and clipped. 

Stiles took a step closer, then stopped when Derek continued.

“I meant what I said in the garden. We do not need to consummate this marriage. The important thing is the peace for our countries. I know you did not ask for this union, but I will again ask that you use discretion if you seek,” Derek swallowed as there was something bitter in his mouth. It was the first time Stiles saw any emotion from Derek’s little speech that was slowly robbing him of the joy of the day, “if you seek satisfaction outside of these rooms.”

“Derek, that’s not…” Stiles started.

Derek bowed, cutting him off. “I am honored by this union. Thank you, Stiles.” Then, before Stiles could move, Derek went through the door that connected their rooms. 

By the time Stiles started moving towards the door, he heard the lock click into place and everything in him snapped with the sound of the metal against the wood. It was his wedding night and his husband had just locked him out of his bed, literally. Stiles collapsed onto the floor in a sitting position, his eyes on the door that separated Derek from him and allowed himself to cry. 

***

Derek’s hand shook as he slid the lock in place and he had to lean against the door to keep himself upright. Stiles had been perfect all day. Ever since the moment this morning when Derek was reminded how very fragile a human was, Derek had been wrapped in a haze of fear, love, and anguish. They were all feelings that he was well used to hiding so that his family didn’t suspect how he struggled. Stiles in the formal robes had almost robbed Derk of his will to adhere to his decision to have a marriage in name only.

If Derek hadn’t been a werewolf he never would have heard the noise from the other side of the door. It was a muffled sob that was quickly suppressed. The sound dug claws into Derek’s chest and twisted painfully. He looked down and expected to find blood on his shirt for the amount of pain he felt. Derek turned his back to the door and slid down until his butt hit the floor. He dropped his head to his knees and took deep breaths. 

It was for the best. It was for Stiles that Derek was going to keep his distance. Stiles was everything Derek could have ever wanted and it was that reason that Derek had to protect him. 

Derek ruined the people he loved or, worse, got them killed.

He had been engaged once to Sabrina, a daughter of one of the barons. They had known each other since they were children. As teens their relationship bloomed into a deep and abiding friendship, but Sabrina was human. She begged him to turn her and he had finally given in. The bite had festered and burned her from the inside out.

Laura had never wanted to be queen so early in her life. Four years ago, he had been late getting his battalion to the battlefield after they had been ambushed before they could reach the main battle. It had all been part of an elaborate plan. His parents, both leading generals, had been leading parts of the army that day. Astoria soldiers had infiltrated the ranks and ambushed both the king and queen, killing them and sending Triskel into chaos. Derek hadn’t been there to save them.

Intellectually, he knew multiple things had gone wrong that day, but in his heart, he couldn’t separate his own failures with the death of his parents. The best thing he could do was give their countries peace and give Stiles the space needed for him to live a long and happy life. Without Derek.

As if all his regrets and broken heart had manifested into the rest of his body, Derek’s body ached at the joints and limbs. He had to drag himself over to his bed. He managed to get the over tunic and boots off, leaving the rest of his clothes on, before tumbling into bed. The oblivion of sleep took much, much longer than Derek wanted. 

***

Stiles almost turned around when he saw that Laura was in the breakfast room the next morning. He had hoped he could slip in, fill a plate, and escape to the garden. Scott and Kira were right behind him though, so he had to continue walking or explain why he wanted to avoid the oldest Hale.

Her smile is wide and welcoming when she sees them. “Oh, you’re up earlier than I thought you would be.” She waggled her eyebrows at Stiles and he felt himself blush, which was ridiculous as nothing at all had happened last night.

“Where’s Derek?” she asked.

“Still asleep.” As far as I know, he thought.

Laura laughed and that seems like enough of an answer for her. “What are your plans for the day?”

Stiles answered while he filled a plate with pastries, eggs, meats, and cheeses. “If there isn’t anything official for me to do, I was hoping to spend time in the gardens. I’d like to work with the kitchen and garden staff to help care for the plants there. If that is acceptable to you, of course.”

Laura waved a hand in the  air. “You’re welcome to take up whatever hobby you choose. I know you are a Spark, so if you need anything to practice your skill, you can speak to Deaton. He’s usually in the library or out with the animals.”

Stiles frowned. “Deaton, the man who married us yesterday does something with the animals?”

“He’s the Hale Emissary so he spends a lot of time doing research, but he is also a physician for animals. It comes in handy for a family that shifts.” Laura winked at him.

“That sure does sound handy,” Scott said around a mouthful of danish. 

Laura turned to Kira and Scott, “You are both welcome here so if there is anything you need, please let me know.”

Kira wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. Her manners were always better than Stiles’s or Scott’s. “We’ve already made contact with the Master At Arms to train with the other soldiers here. He was gruff, but I like him. I’ve heard stories about his sword skills.”

“Deucalion is one of a kind, that is for sure.” Laura stood. “Please excuse me. I have a long list of things to do. Tell Derek to come see me later today.” 

When the door closed, Stiles said. “Might be hard to tell him that since I doubt I’ll see him today.” 

Scott looked like he was going to ask Stiles a question, but Kira elbowed him in the ribs and he clamped his mouth shut. Stiles gave Kira a grateful smile.

By the time Stiles stumbled into his room to clean up and dress for dinner, he was tired, in body and soul. He had been correct in his assumption that he would not see his new husband on this, the first day of their marriage, but he had wanted to be wrong. Instead, Stiles had spent the day with his fingers buried in the dirt, cleaning up the kitchen beds and coaxing the herbs and plants there to grow and be healthy. 

Usually, setting himself to a task helped him forget his troubles, but Derek had been a nagging thought that chased him all day, leaving him spent.

Stiles scrubbed his hands and under his fingernails, trying to get most of the dirt from underneath them. He cleaned the rest of his body without thinking too much, allowing the perfunctory tasks to numb his thoughts. He pulled on clean trousers and an over-tunic that would be acceptable at dinner. It was one of his nicest ones, but Stiles wasn’t sure how formal normal dinners were in the Hale court. 

Kira and Scott were waiting outside his door and Stiles was grateful that he didn’t have to enter the dining hall alone. He straightened his shoulders and walked to dinner.

Derek was not at the high table when Stiles sat beside Malia. Stiles pushed down a rise of irritation at that. The rest of the family was wearing clothes that were less formal that what Stiles had chosen but he was glad of his choice, because he knew the blue of the tunic made his eyes stand out. He might be incredibly foolish, but he was hoping Derek would at least take notice of him. If he came to dinner.

The first course was complete by the time the door opened and Derek came into the hall. His hair was windblown and he had on an emerald green and brown tunic that accentuated his broad shoulders. Stiles’s entire body froze for a moment before he made himself relax. Stiles tried to catch Derek’s gaze as the other man walked to the table, but Derek successfully avoided meeting his eyes.

“Nice of you to join us,” Cora said.

“You’re late, brother. You’ve left your new husband to our company and I think he would prefer yours.” Laura added.

Derek bowed to Laura and his gaze finally flicked to Stiles. “I apologize.” He sat down without another word and began to eat. 

Stiles lasted until halfway through the main course before he could not stand the silence any longer. “How was your day, Derek?”

Derek turned and looked at him, then went back to his food. “Fine.”

Stiles took a breath, not stifled in the least. “I spent the day in the garden. I am working with the kitchen staff to improve the beds and yield for the castle.”

Laura leaned around Cora and said, “Stiles, how were the gardens? To your liking, I hope?”

Stiles launched into a long description of the beds and the plants there and what he planned to add to the garden. It was about ten minutes before he realized he had rambled too much. 

“Sorry, I get excited.” Stiles applied himself to his food that was now on the cooler side.

No one really seemed bothered by his long winded, one sided discussion and the conversation naturally picked back up. 

As soon as the meal was done, Derek stood and bowed to Stiles. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some matters to attend to.”

Stiles nodded and replied, “Of course.” Instead, he wanted to ask Derek to stay, to talk, and tell him about what he had done all day. Instead, he watched Derek walk out of the room enjoying the view and berating himself for caring at all. It was obvious that Derek seemed happy to spend as much time away from Stiles as possible. It was going to be hard to change Derek’s mind about their marriage if Stiles never saw him.

The rest of the week was much the same. Stiles spent time in the garden. Kira and Scott joined him after they practiced in the mornings. He cleaned up the dirt and sweat of his day and went to dinner. Derek always came to dinner and always left as soon as it was over. He would answer any questions asked of him, but the answers were kurt and did not invite further discussion. 

Every night Stiles watched him leave the dining hall and tried to bore a hole in Derek with his gaze. 

 Every night, Stiles went to bed alone. The locked door between him and his husband was like a banshee screaming in his head in rebuke and defeat.

The second week in the castle, Stiles decided a new course of action was needed. He wanted to do something. He wanted to talk to someone else during the day besides Kira and Scott. This was going to be his home and he needed to start acting like it. Derek might want nothing to do with him, but that didn’t mean that Stiles couldn’t find a place here. 

The night he made this decision, a perfect opportunity presented itself.

Laura, leaned around Derek, seated at her left and asked, “Stiles, what have you been doing with yourself this past week?”

He finished chewing the tender beef in his mouth and replied, “Nothing, much.”

Laura paused and moved to glare at her brother. “Nothing?”

“Well, not completely nothing. I’ve been working with the head cook and kitchen staff, helping them with the kitchen garden. Some of the herb beds had been over-picked and they wanted a bit more variety than they had. That’s kept me busy enough, but I was hoping to branch out. Do something else more useful.”

Malia chose this moment to wave her hand at Stiles from the other end of the table. “You’re a prince. You don’t need to be digging in the dirt.”

Stiles gave Malia a large smile. “I like working in the garden and I want to keep doing it,” he added for Laura’s benefit, “but I would like another job or responsibility.” It took Stiles a lot of willpower not to look at Derek or let his disappointment show, “I haven’t met many people here. I want this to be my home, not just a place I am living.”

If Cora’s eyes could shoot daggers, Derek’s head would be on the floor at Stiles’s feet. Through all of this, Derek was silent. Continuing to eat, methodically and ignoring the conversation around him. Stiles tried to ignore Derek too, but he couldn’t keep himself from glancing at him often, even during this conversation when Derek obviously did not want to be included.

“I have an idea,” Malia clapped her hands and laughed. “Stiles, meet us at the end of the hedge garden tomorrow. Do you know where it is?”

“Past the bower and the roses, before the fish pond.” Stiles could feel a thrill of excitement. Finally, something to look forward to besides a day that was the same every day. Maybe whatever Malia had in mind would keep Stiles from pining after the man sitting right next to him who was still worlds away.

***

Derek’s days had become a string of tortures punctuated by longing and frustration. 

In the morning, he woke up early so he could grab breakfast from the great hall before Stiles or the rest of his family was up. He trained the men under his command and went through all of the exercises with them, pushing himself harder and farther than he expected of them. He was only leading by example, he told himself, not trying to excise the growing need he dared not name from his system. He took his midday meal in the barracks with his men. 

If Laura called a meeting of her small council, he arrived directly when the meeting started and left the moment the meeting concluded. He dare not linger, afraid of what his Alpha and sister would say to him. She was disappointed in him and worried. He could tell by the way she watched him. He was disappointed and worried for himself.

The worst part of the day was the evening meal. Stiles was so close. His heartbeat, scent, and heat wrapped around Derek until he could barely eat because he felt like he was choking on it. Worst of all, after a few days, Stiles had stopped smelling hopeful around Derek and his scent had begun to be tinged with sadness and resignation. 

The second worst part of his day was when Derek finally slunk back down the hall, past Stiles’s door and into his own room. His own silent, empty, and dark room where he could still hear Stiles’s heartbeat through a few layers of wood and stone. Derek spent every night by the fire in his room, rereading the same page in the same book until he gave up and went to bed.

In the morning, he did it all again. And again. And again.

After nearly a month of living like this, Derek skipped lunch at the barracks and walked through the gardens to the castle kitchen. It was a shortcut, he told himself, and not a ploy to accidentally run into Stiles, Cora, and Malia, who had been spending every day together. The sun was warm on his uncovered head and Derek paused to tilt his face towards it.

That was when he heard it. Laughter. Stiles’s laugh to be specific. 

Even though Derek avoided Stiles, he knew exactly what Stiles sounded like when he laughed full and from the gut. Malia and Cora often made Stiles laugh at dinner. It was a sound that Derek could survive on for weeks. Before he fully registered what he was doing, Derek followed that sound on the wind. He could not have chosen to go any other direction.

However, he was still a coward, so he stayed out of sight, behind a row of hedges where he could watch unobserved. He did not expect the scene before him.  

Malia, Cora, Scott, and Kira were sitting on a blanket in the sun. A small feast was spread out before them on the blanket, bowls of roasted chicken legs, plates of hard cheese, slices of apples, figs, a pate, flatbreads, and crusty brown rolls. Goblets of wine were scattered around. The smell of food and joy in the sunshine filled the air, but Derek had senses for none of those things.

Stiles stood before the group, telling a story that required a lot of arm waving and dancing around. The words ran together in Derek’s head turning into nonsense. The only thing Derek could do was look and see. Stiles, with his eyes shining and his mouth moving, was waving his arms and dancing around the group telling a story that required Stiles to tell it in the most athletic way possible. 

Derek could not look away from the movements of Stiles body, touched by the sun. Stiles’s lean muscles rippled and Derek struggled to keep his feet still. He could not remember why he was keeping his distance. 

Stiles flopped onto the blanket and Derek remembered.

Stiles was not for him. He couldn’t ruin the beauty before him with the terrible ending that came every time Derek loved someone. 

Derek’s brain didn’t trip over that word the first time he thought it, but the second time his entire body froze in fear. He could not love Stiles. It was impossible. He had avoided him at every turn. He had done his best to not interact with his husband. 

His internal crisis was interrupted by a commotion on the blanket. Cora, sitting to Stiles, was leaning over on her knees to pour Stiles more wine from the carafe. She lost her balance, fell into Stiles, and poured wine all over his tunic. Stiles yelped and reared back, but that made it worse and the bottle upended between them. When they rolled a part, Cora’s dress had remained unscathed but Stiles was sopping with wine.

The entire group burst into laughter. Stiles stood up dramatically, pulled at the laces on the sides of his tunic and lifted it over his head. The white shirt he wore underneath the tunic was also wet and, in one movement, Stiles pulled the offending garment over his head.

He was breathtaking. 

Pale skin dotted with moles shone in the sun. Stiles’s lean muscles that Derek had long admired were not confined to his arms and legs. His chest was defined and the only hair Derek could see was a barely there line leading down into Stiles tightly fitting trousers.

Derek must have made a noise because four heads whipped in his direction. Scott tensed like he was going to stand, but Kira put a hand on his arm and stopped him. Derek unclenched his hands and realized his claws had come out and punctured his palms. He took one last look at Stiles, who was still laughing and oblivious to what was going on around him, and turned to run.

He collided with Erica, who grabbed his shoulders and kept them both from falling.

“Come with me,” she hissed in his face.

Derek slumped and obeyed. He knew she had seen what he had been doing, watching and being a coward.

Erica stalked off and Derek followed her. She led him to the other side of the garden, to a gazebo that was far from the path that people normally took. She pushed Derek onto one of the benches and checked the area for any unwanted listeners. When she was satisfied they were alone she sat beside him. She sighed and took his hand, flipping it over. The claw marks were healed but there was dried blood on his palm.

“What are you doing, Derek?” she asked.

“If I said walking in the garden and I don’t want to talk about it, would you leave me alone?” he tried.

“Absolutely not, you liar.”

They stared at each other in silence.

Erica squeezed his hands that she still held. “You obviously like him. You are married, Derek. You need to start acting like it. Talk to him. Spend time with him. Why won’t you do that?”

“You know why.” Derek got up and paced to the other end of the gazebo and back. “I don’t want to hurt him. Erica, you know none of my relationships just fail, they end in bloodshed. I can’t take that chance with Stiles. I won’t hurt him.” The thought of not only losing Stiles but being the reason that his husband endured any harm squeezed Derek’s chest.

Erica stood and stepped into his space. “You have to try. You have to. The peace won’t last if it starts to be known that you never see your husband except at dinner and when you are spying on him. A Peaceweaver is supposed to be cherished, Derek.”

“I don’t need reminding,” his raised voice was almost a yell, Derek backed off immediately. “I’m not good at this. I ruin things. I can’t ruin him.”

Erica snorted. “You do need reminding because I just caught you practically wolfing out at the sight of your shirtless husband while you watched him through a hedge. I’m enjoying my night in a warm bed with Boyd and not in a campaign tent so I’d appreciate it if you grew a pair and started at least getting to know Stiles.”

Derek closed his eyes. He couldn’t look at Erica when he said, “I think I already love him.”

Derek didn’t open his eyes when he felt Erica’s arms wrap around him. He let himself bury his nose in her neck and he inhaled the smell of Pack and let her comfort him. After a moment, she started shaking and it took Derek a moment to realize she was laughing.

Erica created some space between them and said, “Derek, only you would realize you love your husband and consider it a tragedy.”

Derek, eyes open, growled at her.

She sobered and said, “You have to spend more time with him. People are talking already. You need to start treating him like your husband. If this marriage doesn’t last or if word gets out that the general of our army doesn’t believe in the peace, things could get ugly.”

Derek’s gut tightened. He did not want to lose Stiles and he did not want to live a life of war again.

His shoulders rolled forward. “I’ll try.”

Erica wrapped him in another hug, “That’s all I’m asking. Just try.”

***

The air was warm and Stiles let the contentment of being surrounded by friends warm him as much as the sun. There was still one person missing in this group to make it complete but Stiles tried to push that thought aside. They had a feast of a picnic, thanks to Matilda from the kitchen, and Malia and Cora were telling Scott, Kira, and him about the festival coming up in two weeks.

“It’s the May festival. It celebrates another planting season and brings blessings to new growth,” Cora said before popping a bite of cheese in her mouth.

“And new relationships.” Malia winked at Stiles who could feel his face turning red. “Every year, a large birch tree is cut and moved into the main square. People tie ribbons on the branches and wish for a prosperous year. Lovers exchange ribbons to tie on the tree as symbols of their hope for the future. A lot of engagements and marriages happen shortly after.”

Cora was looking away from them, intent on something beyond the hedge. Stiles ignored her.

He said, “We do something similar Astoria. Someone goes from house to house and blesses them with a flowering branch for a fruitful year. I could do that here.”

Cora was paying attention to Stiles but now Malia had her head tilted and her nose flared, in the way that weres did sometimes. 

“Is everything ok?” Scott asked

“It definitely is,” Malia replied. 

They continued talking and Scott goaded Stiles into telling the story of how they had both been convinced they could fly if they tried hard enough. In their defense, they had been five and it had been Stiles’s idea. Scott had insisted they try it over the hay loft in the horse barn which had saved them both from breaking their necks. 

Stiles stood up to finish the story. “So there we are, prince and best friend, the one my dad thought would keep me out of trouble, on the edge of the loft, trying to decide who would go first. We had this friend, Allison, who Scott was totally in love with, sorry Kira, and she found us before we jumped. She was angry we hadn’t asked her to join in and offered to go first.”

Scott laughed. “Allison was much braver than either of us and much more athletic. She jumped off the ledge, flapped her arms a few times for good measure, and rolled into a perfect landing.”

Stiles swung his arm wide. “It was a beautiful sight. Then, Scott, my boy here, couldn’t be out done by a girl, a girl he was always trying to impress, and he tried next. He got a running start, for some reason, and jumped, arms flapping and flailing like a goose. He did not land as elegantly as Allison, but he made it.”

Scott stood up and joined Stiles. “Stiles went last and he wanted to outperform us both. He closed his eyes, made a wish, I presume to become a bird, and got ready to jump.”

“Unfortunately for me, right then, the stablemaster saw us and yelled at us. Instead of transforming into a beautiful bird and diving into the hay,” Stiles paused for effect, “I fell.”

“Oh, he fell alright. Like a lead weight,” Scott added.

Stiles glared at him. “I was startled. I fell on my arm wrong, broke it, and we were all grounded for weeks. We had to stay inside with my tutors and research physics and birds. Our parents were furious.”

Stiles flopped down on the blanket and laughed with everyone else. It felt good.

Cora was closest to him and lifted the carafe of wine. “I think you need a refill after a story like that.”

She got up on her knees and leaned near him to grab his glass. As she went to pour the wine, she lost her balance and the entire thing poured over him. The cold of the wine seeped through his outer tunic and he could feel it against his chest. 

Cora righted herself. “Stiles, I’m so sorry. Here let me help you take that off to dry.”

Stiles stood and laughed. “I can handle undressing myself.” He pulled at the laces, removed the outside tunic and saw the wine had indeed soaked through to his once white under tunic. “Well, I suppose you are all in for a show then.”

Stiles slowed his movements and peeled off his tunic in the most suggestive way possible. Malia and Cora burst into laughter. Scott clapped in appreciation because he was a good friend. Kira giggled.

Stiles tossed the tunic over his head and pointed a finger at the two laughing Hales. “You two could do some real damage to a person’s confidence.”

They quieted down. A sound that Stiles could not quite make out, it almost sounded like a whine, came from the same area beyond the hedge that Cora had been looking at earlier. The laughing paused for a moment until Cora and Malia busted out with more laughing. The moment forgotten, Stiles flopped back on the blanket.

“Do you think the people here would appreciate it or understand if I performed the Blessing of the Houses for them before the May festival?”

Cora sobered. “Stiles, I think they would like that very much.” 

***

Things did continue to get better for Stiles, even if he didn’t see Derek much. Stiles had a plan in mind and he was consumed with helping with the preparations for the May celebration. He gathered the supplies he needed and tried not to be too hopeful that his plan would make a difference. 

Five days before the celebration day, he put his plan into motion. At dinner that night, Stiles took a steadying breath and hoped against hope. He turned to the man next to him.

“Derek, I have a request.”

Derek turned his entire body towards Stiles and focused entirely on him. Stiles swallowed at the intense look in Derek’s face and for a moment forgot what he was going to say.

“Right, I have been helping with preparations for the May Day celebration and I want to do a Blessing of the Houses, something we do in Astoria. I need help to carry the offerings for the blessings. Would you be willing to go with me?” Stiles tried to keep the hope and pleading from his voice.

Derek was silent for a breath then nodded. “Anything you want, Stiles.”

Stiles grinned wide. “Thank you. It will mean more to the people to have us both there.”

Derek nodded and the very corner of his mouth tilted up. Stiles did not hide the fact that his own grin spread so far that his cheeks hurt. Derek had smiled. At him. Well, not quite at him, but it was close enough . Stiles was going to take this victory.

On the morning before the May day celebration, Stiles and Derek set out. They had a small guard walking with them, but the soldiers kept their distance enough that Stiles felt like he and Derek were walking through the streets alone. Derek carried a large basket of ribbons that Stiles had been collecting. Stiles carried a birch branch the size of his arm with the leaves still attached.

Stiles halted in front of the first house on a street of small houses that belonged to tradesmen. The houses were tidy and cared for, but weathered. Stiles hesitated. He turned to Derek, “I’m suddenly very nervous.”

Derek made a grunting sound and raised his eyebrows at Stiles. “You’ll be fine.”

Stiles wanted to make some sort of outward victory sign that Derek had just given him an almost compliment, but instead he faced the door, took a breath, and knocked.  

The door was opened by an older man. “May I help you…” the man started to greet them, then his eyes traveled from Stiles to Derek and back again. He stammered and dropped to one knee. “Your highnesses, what do I have to thank for this unexpected honor?”

Stiles reached down and offered the man a hand. As he lifted the man back into a standing position, he said, “It is us who have come to honor you and offer you a Spring blessing upon all in your house, with your permission, of course.”

“My lords, that is… thank you,” the man looked almost ready to cry. 

Stiles raised the branch in his hand and waved it over the lintel twice while he pushed some of his magic into the words he said, “ May the fruitful season be especially full for this house and all who dwell in it.”

Derek stepped forth with the basket and handed the man a ribbon that was green shot with gold. “Take this as a token of the blessing and tie it on the May Tree.”

The man took it with a trembling hand and bowed. “Thank you.” He kept bowing as they went to the next house. 

This time the door was answered by a small child.

“Granma, the princes are here!” she screeched over her shoulder.

“Maxine, I have told you a million times not to answer the door and I can’t believe you would make something so ridiculous as the princes…” the woman, stooped with age and walking with a cane, came up behind the child and looked at the men on her stoop. “Well, I’ll be.”

She started to kneel and Derek caught her before Stiles could. “No need for formalities, lady. You have earned the right to stand with the years you have seen.”

The woman laid her hand on Derek’s cheek. “You are a fine, young man.” 

Stiles watched the entire scene and wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle. If he had known all it would take for Derek Hale to soften up was an old lady, he would have been parading them through the castle for weeks. 

“My lady…” Stiles started.

The woman waved her hand. “Don’t you ‘my lady’ me, young man. I’m a laundress and a grandma, not a lady.”

“Esteemed Grandmother, we ask that we can offer you and your house a Spring Blessing.”

She blinked and her eyes brightened. “That is something that has not happened here since I was a girl. Of course, you may bless us.”

Stiles repeated the blessing and Derek offered a ribbon, bright blue with red flowers this time, to the little girl. The woman wished them well and they went to the next house and the next and the next. 

At each place the greeting they received was the same. Astonishment, then joy expressed as tears of laughter. They walked the streets of the city until it was dark. As they finished the last house on one of the outer streets, Derek put his hand on Stiles’s arm. It was the first time Derek had touched him since their marriage and Stiles almost dropped the branch in his hand. He reigned in his emotions, knowing the wolf would be able to smell them if he let them loose.

“We should head back,” Derek said. “We’ve already missed the evening meal.”

Stiles was suddenly not very tired at all though moments before he had been exhausted. The day had gone even better than he had hoped. Derek had been kind and open to the people they had blessed. He had knelt and talked to children, spoke kindly to young women, and seriously greeted the men and older women with deference. It was an entire side of his husband that Stiles had not known existed. It was a side that made his heart swell with a longing he did not have courage to name. 

“Yes, I think we have done all we can.” Stiles took a chance and asked, “Since we missed dinner, would you like to eat dinner with me in the kitchen?”

Stiles almost suggested his sitting room, but he knew that Derek would refuse something that intimate. The kitchen had a dining area attached to it where some of the servants ate while the servers and kitchen staff served the great room the meals. 

“There is a dining table in the kitchen?” Derek asked, walking by Stiles’s side.

Stiles stopped. “Have you never been in the kitchens?”

Derek shook his head. “Not since I was very young and only to swipe the pastries that cook left out for me on the counter. I never stayed. I was too afraid of getting caught and then refused entry. I had a weakness for Cook’s apple tarts.”

It was one of the longest speeches Derek had given to him and Stiles could not stop trying to see Derek’s facial expression in the dark. The streets were lit with some gas lamps here and there now that they were in the more prosperous areas, but they did nothing to truly illuminate. 

“I didn't know you liked apple tarts,” was the thing Stiles’s mouth decided to reply to.

“I do.”

Stiles cleared his throat. “Well, there is a table and Matilda, the Cook, who I assume is still the same woman as she appears ageless and powerful, would be happy to make you some. She also would be happy to let us eat there. I go there every once in a while when I am working on the gardens and think I am too full of dirt to go to the great hall.”

Derek nodded and they walked the rest of the way in silence. The soldiers, who had followed them diligently all day, peeled off when they entered the inner square. Stiles led Derek around the inner keep until they came to the back entrance that went from the kitchen gardens into the kitchen proper.

Stiles opened the door with the assurance of someone who knows his welcome. “Matilda, we’ve missed dinner and I’ve been dreaming of your food all day. What do I need to do to convince you to let us eat at the small dining table?”

Matilda looked up from the counter. Her apron was stained with flour, some kind of brown substance, gravy, Stiles hoped. “Prince Stiles what are you,” she noticed Derek who had been standing right behind Stiles. She stopped working and bobbed a curtsey. “I mean your highnesses, of course, anything for either of you.”

Stiles glanced at Derek and saw his husband frowning. “Matilda, please just call us Prince Derek and Stiles. You never had much more formality than that for me before.”

Matilda bobbed a curtsey. “Yes, sir.”

“Would it be an imposition, if we ate down here? If it is, we can make a tray and carry it to the hall ourselves.” Derek’s voice was apologetic. 

Matilda waved her hand. “Of course you can stay. Dinner in the hall is over and the kitchen staff just sat down in the small room. You’re welcome to join them though I’m not sure that they’ll know what to do with you. There should be a couple empty seats at the end. I’ll be in shortly.”

Stiles nodded and bowed. “You are a paragon of virtue and kitchen witchery.”

“Get going now,” she shooed them and they went. 

Stiles led the way and pulled a curtain that covered a doorway on the end of the kitchen. 

***

Derek had always assumed that the curtain covered some kind of storage area. Instead it concealed a room, the size of the sitting room in his chambers. It was filled with a long table packed with people that he saw two or three times a day, serving in the great hall. He had not even known this room existed and yet, his husband of only a few weeks had known and had been sure of his welcome here.

The chatter in the room died down and every head at the table turned to them.

Stiles waved and said, “We missed dinner, as I am sure you’re all aware. Matilda said we could ask to join you, if you are amenable.”

The room was silent for a moment and Derek thought they may refuse. A refusal would surely hurt Stiles’s feelings and Derek found he was invested in Stiles’s feelings, more than he wanted to be. 

Then, one of the younger boys waved his hand. “There are two seats here by me if you’d like to sit here.”

“Thank you, David.” Stiles said with a jaunty smile. The boy’s cheeks colored and Derek knew how the youth felt with the full force of Stiles charm bearing down upon you.

The room remained silent, until they sat. 

“I saw Matilda had a gravy stain on her apron. Please tell me there is something I can put gravy on and eat it. I’m starving.” Stiles said. 

Potatoes and gravy were passed to Stiles and the conversation around them slowly started up again. Stiles greeted people by name and smiled at everyone. He asked them questions like he knew them well and it left Derek wondering just what his husband had been doing the past weeks besides picnicking in the garden with his sister and cousin. Stiles had made this place into his home. He had become a part of the life of the castle in a way that Derek never had though he had lived here all his life. He wondered if his mother would be ashamed of the lack of effort he had made since the war had ended. 

“You look like you want to murder the meatloaf. I recommend eating it instead,” Stiles said in a low voice next to his ear. Derek could feel Stiles’s breath on the shell of his ear and clenched his fork tight. 

Derek took a deep breath and decided to tell the truth. “I was thinking that you have made yourself more at home here in a few weeks than I have in years and that my mother would be a bit ashamed of me.”

Stiles sat back in his chair. “What? No, Derek. You were busy fighting for the country and being a soldier. That’s hard enough work. I had nothing else to do and decided that getting to know people was the best way to spend my time.”

Now, Derek felt worse. Stiles had looked around in an absence of things to occupy his time and had reached out to others. Derek had come back from the war and thrown himself into training his soldiers, essentially more war. Derek really looked at Stiles again and felt his heart clench in a way he was not prepared for. Stiles had a heart that was so large it made Derek’s fill with love.

Stiles elbowed him gently, “Eat.”

Stiles smiled at him again, a small one this time, and Derek knew it was too late to protect his heart.  

Derek did not get drawn into many conversations around the table, though Stiles did try. He was more content to sit and listen. He listened to Stiles tell stories. He heard Stiles talk to David, the young boy who had beckoned them to sit earlier, and give the boy advice on how to deal with an older boy who was giving him problems. Derek soaked in all the times Stiles laughed and the joy in the other man’s voice when he congratulated one of the kitchen maids on the excellent gravy. Derek would have been hard pressed to remember any part of the meal that did not revolve around his husband. Everything was Stiles and Derek soaked it up and let it fill his soul.

Stiles took Derek’s arm when they reached the landing of their hallway, linking them together. Derek wanted to pull Stiles closer but he had already crossed boundaries he had not been prepared to set aside that day and he maintained some distance between them. Stiles door was first and Stiles did not let Derek go as they both went into the room.

A beat of panic danced over Derek. He did not want to be in Stiles’s room. There was too much temptation here. He needed to leave. Immediately, before he did something he would come to regret and that would entangle him even more in this snare of his own creation. 

Derek took Stiles’s arm off his own and bowed over his husband’s hand. He placed a soft kiss over Stiles’s knuckles and stood, avoiding eye contact.

“Goodnight, Stiles.”

Derek turned quickly and walked through the door and into the hall. He closed the door carefully so that there was barely a click as it snicked closed. He wasn’t quick enough though to miss the choked sound of dismay that Stiles made and he could hear the muttered curse after the door was closed. Derek slunk to his own room and closed the door. He went directly to the door that separated his chambers from Stiles’s and slid down the back of the door. He listened to the sound of Stiles’s quick heartbeat as he paced around the room.

With his spine pressed into the door, Derek let the sounds of Stiles in his separate room lull him to sleep.

***

Despite the way the previous day had ended, Stiles was hopeful about today. Yesterday had gone better and worse than he had planned. It had taken Derek most of the day to warm up, but once he did, the quiet attention Derek paid everyone around him, including Stiles, was a heady thing. If only Stiles could get him to put that focus into action. It wasn’t much, a long look here and a hesitant touch there, but it was progress and Stiles was going to take it. Stiles dressed in an outfit that Kira has helped him design. The outer tunic was a deep red with golden embroidery of vines and flowers. There was a howling wolf stitched in the tunic between his shoulder blades. He hoped it portrayed his desire to celebrate his new home. 

This was his new home. 

Blessing the houses yesterday had done something to Stiles, a binding he had not expected. He could feel the pulse of the living magic of the city in a way that he hadn’t before. The tendrils of it were rooted deeply into his own power and for the first time in Triskel, Stiles felt settled. In all areas but one. Derek.

Stiles ran his fingers over the braided ribbon in his pocket. It was traditional for people to give ribbons of hope, blessing, and love to each other as a promise for the year to come. Stiles hoped, hoped with a twisting pain, that Derek would accept his token and tie it on the May tree.

Stiles spent the morning helping set up for the festival and only saw Derek from a distance, twice. By midday, Stiles was tired of not seeing his husband and the seed of want was a ball of energy in gut. He dashed into the kitchen, swiped two meat pies and, as luck would have it, two apple tarts, and went searching. 

He went to the training yards first and, though there were a few knights practicing with some of the younger soldiers, the yard was mostly empty. Next, Stiles went to the sitting room. He opened the door on Cora and Laura talking.

“Stiles, come join us for tea before we have to get ready for the party,” Laura said. It wasn’t really a request.

He took one step into the room and bowed. “My queen. I should not refuse such an offer from two such brilliant and beautiful ladies, but I am actually in search of my husband.”

Cora laughed. “You only sound that formal when you are trying to flatter Laura.”

“Have you lost him, then?” Laura asked.

“I’m not sure I even had him,” Stiles grumbled in a low voice, but the two werewolves heard him.

Laura chuckled at that. “Oh Stiles, you may find you had him all along. Check the library. He’s been hiding in there often lately.”

“Thank you. I will see you both later.” Stiles ducked out before Laura changed her mind and set off at a brisk pace to the library.

Stiles had been in the library many times. Every time Derek had chanced upon him, he had slipped away before Stiles could call him back. Stiles was done waiting around for his husband. 

The library curtains were open and the spring sunlight filled the space. Stiles started entering slowly, then remembered that Derek would have heard him before he’d even opened the door if he was in the room. Stiles went first to the sitting area on one end that included lounging couches and several overstuffed armchairs that one could sink into. They were empty.

 Stiles paused, then looked up. One of the walls had a balcony that led to a second set of shelves. Tucked into the corner of the balcony was an oversized chair, big enough for two people, if you sat very close. Derek was sprawled across the chair and watched Stiles move around the room. The razor sharp regard of Derek’s gaze pinned Stiles to the spot. The possessive look in Derek’s eyes should not have been such a turn on, but Stiles was very, very turned on.

He had to clear his throat twice before he could speak. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Derek didn’t say anything.

Stiles took the fact that Derek didn’t tell him to leave as a suggestion to stay. He went to the twisting staircase and climbed up the stairs. Derek’s eyes never left him and Stiles had to take deep, even breaths to control the way that controlled gaze was making his skin feel too tight. 

Stiles stopped about a foot from the chair. Derek still hadn’t moved, except his eyes to follow Stiles’s progress.

Stiles held up the pies. “I brought you something to eat. I thought we could eat together and talk. Or I could talk and you can just sit and waggle your eyebrows at me when I say something ridiculous.”

Derek made a chuffing sound that Stiles was very sure was a laugh because Derek’s lips turned up into a real smile.

“I only ‘waggle my eyebrows’ as you so delicately put it, because you do say the most ridiculous things.” Derek swung his legs down from where they were slung over the arm of the chair and moved over. “Join me.”

Stiles sat and handed Derek one each of the pies. 

“You remembered about the apple pies. Thanks,” Derek said before taking a bite. 

“Of course I remembered.” Stiles gave Derek his most flirtatious wink.

Stiles, not expecting more conversation, told Derek about how he had helped install the May tree in the large parade square in the garden. He described the way the castle steward had hovered over the entire process, micromanaging every nuance of the installation until the head gardener had told him off. Stiles laughed as he described the colorful insults the two men had flung at each other. 

Derek swallowed his last bite. “Those two have been married for twenty-five years. They never fight except when they are putting up that tree. I think they may save their insults all year long to be flung at just the right moment.” 

“That’s a lot of words you said just now. I take back what I said about you only talking to me with your eyebrows.” Stiles elbowed Derek in the side. “I didn’t know those two were married.”

Derek shrugged. “They never let their marriage get in the way of their job.”

“Except on May Day.”

“Except on May Day,” Derek agreed.

Stiles made a show of stroking his chin. “Maybe I should do the same thing, refuse to argue with you then think of some very interesting insults to hurl at you when we have an audience.”

Derek blanched.

Stiles grabbed Derek by the wrist. “I was joking. I would never insult you in front of others and mean it.” Stiles winked at Derek.

Derek’s shoulders relaxed. Moving his arm with glacial speed, as if he was afraid Stiles was a pheasant who would fly at the slightest provocation, Derek lifted his hand and wrapped it around the back of Stiles’s neck. It was a purely wolf gesture, something they did to scent each other and emphasize a connection. Derek’s hand was warm and the pressure was firm. Stiles pushed into the grip and could not control the shiver that went down his spine. 

“I know. I trust you.”

Derek could have professed undying love and Stiles would not have been more bowled over. 

“Thank you.” Stiles still had a hold of Derek’s wrist, so he let it go to reach into the pocket of his doublet. “I made you a May ribbon.”

Derek didn’t let go of Stiles with his left hand, in fact his grip tightened momentarily, and he held out his right hand. Stiles curled the ribbon into Derek’s waiting palm. The May ribbon was made of four things braided together. There were two ribbons, one a deep burgundy with Derek’s name embroidered on the end and a green one with Stiles’s name on it. Braided with the two ribbons were a strand of lavender flowers and a jasmine vine. 

“I hope you’ll consider this a worthy gift and tie it on the May tree tonight,” Stiles said the words in a breathless rush.

“Stiles,” Derek started then stopped. He let go of Stiles’s neck and ran his fingers lightly over the lavender flowers.

When Derek didn’t finish, a rock started to form on his shoulders. He should not have pushed. This gesture was too much and he had ruined all the progress he had made the previous day. Stiles made a move to retrieve the ribbon from Derek’s hand, but Derek moved it out of his reach and laid it reverently on the arm of the chair. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a ribbon of his own.

It was a single ribbon, an inch and a half wide, and a bright, burning red, almost matching the tunic Stiles had on. Derek laid the crimson strip across Stiles’s hand and that was when Stiles saw the symbols on the ribbon. A wolf howled on one end and a tree grew on the opposite end. Between the two symbols, there was a vine with jasmine flowers.

“I didn’t do the embroidery myself. I’ve never been good with a needle except to darn socks when we were on a campaign.” Derek covered Stiles’s hand and the ribbon with his own palm. “I hope that it’s an acceptable exchange.”

All the things Stiles could say in this moment roared through his mind, but he didn’t say anything. 

He did something instead.

Stiles closed the distance between them and placed his lips against Derek’s. Derek’s lips were firm against his and Stiles decided he needed more, He ran his tongue along the seam of Derek’s lip. Derek opened immediately with a quiet whine that broke something in Stiles. Stiles plunged into the space Derek provided.

Derek’s hand cupped Stiles’s face and Stiles threaded his fingers through Derek’s hair and maneuvered Derek’s head so he had better access to continue to slick his hungry tongue against Derek’s. Stiles lost himself in the push and pull of the kiss. He was about to shift his weight to move across Derek’s lap when Derek growled, and maneuvered Stiles so that he was on his back with Derek hovering over him.  

Stiles jerked his hips upward towards Derek. “I never thought I’d like being manhandled, but I find that I like it very much when you do it.”

Derek gave Stiles a wolfish grin and lowered himself against Stiles. Stiles lunged up and they crashed together. This kiss was more desperate with more teeth and roaming hands. 

Stiles was about to get his hands underneath the waist of Derek’s trousers, when Derek jerked up, hovering protectively over Stiles and growling at something over Stiles’s shoulder.

A feminine chuckle broke through Stiles’s confusion. “I’m glad to see you two have finally come to an understanding.”

“Get out, Cora.” Derek’s voice was lower than normal.

Cora laughed. “Gladly, but Laura sent me to find you and tell you both that you have less than an hour to get ready for the ceremony.”

Derek remained tense above Stiles until the snick of the door closing behind Stiles filled the quiet of the library. 

Derek lowered himself, keeping most of his weight off of Stiles, and burying his face in Stiles’s neck.

“Today did not go the way I thought it would,” Derek mumbled against Stile’s neck, sending a thrill down Stiles’s spine.

“I hope you’re not disappointed.” Stiles wasn’t sure what to make of these developments. He was happy, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust it.  

Derek moved to sit up, pulling Stiles with him. He took Stiles’s hand in his, his face carefully blank. The lack of expression on Derek’s face made anxiety bloom in Stiles’s gut.

Derek was quiet a long time.

“You don’t have to answer. I shouldn’t have asked.” Stiles tried to pull his hand out of Derek’s but Derek’s grip tightened.

“I want to answer.” Derek raised his eyes and looked directly at Stiles. “I was wrong to tell you at the beginning that we shouldn’t have a real marriage. I was hoping to start over with you today, if you are willing.”

“Start over how?” Stiles knew he should have taken the hint that Derek was giving him, but he wanted to Derek to say it. Stiles had to be sure.

Derek cleared his throat and maintained eye contact. “I want a real marriage with you. I know it may be too late to ask, but can we start again?”

Stiles let his happiness show on his face. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Stiles sealed his statement with a kiss.

***

They were the last of the family to meet at the arranged spot. It had been very hard to get dressed with their hands all over each other, and they arrived slightly disheveled despite their lateness. Derek could not be bothered to care about the knowing looks his sisters, Kira, Scott, Erica, and Boyd gave them. Well, he did care, but he felt very smug about it.

And scared to death. His emotions were vacillating so swiftly between euphoria, at the feel of Stiles’s fingers entwined through his, and dread that he was making a mistake that would only bring harm on top of Stiles and that he would be unable to save him or himself and an entire country wanted this peace to work and…

Laura’s elbow connected forcefully with his ribs. “Wherever you just were, stop it .”

She threw her Alpha power behind the words and Derek let the trail of thoughts go. 

Derek gave her a slight smile. “Thanks.”

Laura leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. “Enjoy the night. Relax for once.”

Derek nodded and allowed Stiles to pull him along the main thoroughfare with the others. 

He could not remember any other May celebration like this one, likely because he had never had Stiles by his side, Stiles who was immeasurably pleased with everything and everyone. Stiles dragged Derek into the circles of dancers that surrounded the tree in the square. Stiles laughed and kissed Derek under a bower of flowers set up for just such a purpose, much to the delight of the crowd. Derek hardly heard the cheers because Stiles’s bright, twinkling brown eyes were right there. Stiles brought him drinks of spiced apple wine and they drank them together, their sides touching as they watched the dancers.

It was magical. Derek felt like he was floating through a dream he had never dared to dream.

A bell rang through the crowd and people began tying their ribbons on the tree. Couples, single people, young, and old, tied their hopes for the year to the branches, then turned and filtered back to their homes. The music kept playing and the royal family stayed as witness to the hopes of their people. 

When there were only a few people left, Laura stood and walked to the tree. She pulled a bright white ribbon with green embroidery on it and tied it high on a branch. Derek did not try to read it. It was considered rude to do so, but he wondered what his sister hoped for in the new year. Children? Continued peace?

Stiles squeezed his hand. “Our turn?” he asked.

Derek rose from where they sat and pulled Stiles up with him. They made a circle around the tree. Derek pointed to a limb they could both reach. His hand was shaking and he fisted it to conceal his nervous reaction.

Stiles smiled in that open way he had and said, “Perfect.”

They tied their ribbons around the branch so that they overlapped and touched, burgundy, green, red, jasmine, and lavender twined together. By the end, Derek’s hands weren’t shaking at all. He cradled his husband’s face in his palms and kissed him, deeply and tenderly.

Stiles’s eyes were wide in the firelight and everything in Derek screamed three words that rushed out of his mouth in whisper.

“I love you.”

Stiles went rigid, then threw back his head and laughed. 

Derek jerked back. He had made a colossal mistake. He never should have said anything. He had been a fool to think that Stiles would ever accept that from him after how he had acted at the beginning of their marriage. Derek took a step back.

Stiles grabbed the material of Derek’s tunic and yanked him close. “You are the dumbest wolf on the planet,” Stiles said before crashing his mouth onto Derek’s and invading Derek in the most possessive and hottest way possible.

Derek broke their kiss first. “You laughed.”

Stiles ran a thumb over Derek’s lower lip. “Of course I did. The first time you tell me you love me and you say it as if you can’t believe it. I’ve loved you for months, Derek Hale. I’ve watched you as often as I could, when you weren’t hiding from me and there is one thing I started to suspect.”

“What was that?”

“I suspected that you secretly wanted a partner and husband, I just had to convince you that you wanted it too. I wasn’t sure until today, in the library, but I had hoped that you would come around. To be honest, I thought you’d hold out for a while longer out of sheer stubbornness.”

Derek crossed his arms. “I’m not stubborn.”

“Oh please,” Cora protested. 

Derek whipped around and saw that his entire family and the last festival stragglers were watching them. Derek’s first instinct was to be embarrassed or hide, but then he looked at Stiles. Stiles was looking at him with his face soft and a knowing smile gracing his lips. It gave Derek courage.

Derek took Stiles hand in his and turned them both to face their audience. He gave Stiles’s hand a squeeze. “On this May Festival, I have asked for a long and happy life with my new husband. I wish all of you the same joy I have in my heart this moment.”

Stiles laughed. “Sorry, I know that was serious, but you sounded so official.”

Derek quirked an eyebrow at Stiles.

“I can do better, listen. I can be serious.” Stiles faced away from their family and faced Derek. “I love you too. I have almost since the beginning. We already said we wanted to start over. I want to start over and learn to love you more each day.” Stiles sealed his declaration with a kiss.

The small crowd clapped and whistled at them. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Derek asked when Stiles released him and he had caught his breath.

Stiles pretended to be shocked. “Derek Hale are you asking me to abscond to your bedroom with you?”

Derek nodded.

“Lead the way, my prince.”

Derek laughed and they walked quickly back to the castle. One thing was certain. Life with Stiles was never going to be boring.