Work Text:
Once upon a time, there was a little village in the middle of a deep, dark wood. It was a quiet village, and the people there were happy, except for one small thing.
A monster prowled the woods, a wolf (a cursed wolf, some said) who never let anybody pass down the path out of the woods. Many had tried, but they'd all come back defeated (and some had never come back at all).
A young man called Stiles lived in this village. His mother had died when he was just a boy, and he and his father lived alone. But they were not lonely; they had each other.
Then one day, Stiles's father grew horribly ill. Stiles immediately went for the village doctor, but she sadly informed him there was nothing she could do.
"My brother lives in the village outside the woods," she told him. "He would be able to help you, but no one can get past the wolf."
"I will," Stiles said.
His father begged him not to go, not to dare the wolf, but Stiles packed his things and hugged his father tight. "I will bring back the medicine, and you will get better," Stiles said. And then he went into the woods.
Stiles had never ventured further than he'd needed to go to hunt small game, but now he walked farther down the path than he ever had before. He caught two rabbits and a quail, hoping to trade them to the doctor for medicine.
Then, something jumped out of the woods onto the path.
It was a huge black wolf that stood on its hind legs. Instead of paws, it had massive clawed hands that could tear through skin like a knife through butter.
Stiles froze.
"Where are you going?" the wolf growled.
Stiles was quite surprised, because no one had ever said that the wolf could speak. He gathered his courage and said, "I'm going to the village outside the woods to find medicine. My father is very ill."
The wolf sat on its haunches. "The woods are very dangerous."
Stiles straightened. "My father is the only family I have left. I will brave any danger to help him. Please, let me pass."
The wolf regarded him for a moment, and then stepped off the path. "Be careful, and travel only during the day," it warned him. "Otherwise you will not make it out of the forest."
And then the wolf vanished back into the trees.
Stiles waited, but heard nothing but the sound of the wind in the leaves. So he went on his way. He listened to the wolf's advice, and traveled only during the daylight, and made it down the path with no trouble whatsoever. He collected the medicine from the doctor's brother (who was quite surprised he had made it through the woods) and started his journey back at first light.
Stiles paused at the stretch of the path where he had seen the wolf before, but there was no one else there.
"Thank you for letting me pass, Mr. Wolf," he said to the forest, and left a rabbit on the path before hurrying back to his village.
***
Stiles returned to the village with the medicine and told the others what he had seen. Few believed that he had made it all the way to the edge of the woods, and fewer still believed that he had seen the wolf.
But his father believed him, as did his best friend, Scott, and that was all Stiles needed.
The days went on and grew shorter and colder, and soon it was winter, the harshest winter the village had ever seen. Their food stores shrank, and it became clear not everyone would make it to spring.
Some were frightened. Some were resigned. But Stiles packed his things and braved the woods.
"Be careful," his father cautioned. "The wolf may be hungry."
"The wolf will not hurt me," Stiles said, and left.
Once again, when he had made it to a certain spot in his journey, the wolf jumped out of the trees and landed in the middle of the snow-covered path.
"Where are you going?" the wolf growled.
"My village has very little food," Stiles said. "We won't survive the winter. I must bring some back."
The wolf sat on its haunches. "You think you can carry enough food to feed an entire village?"
"I must try!" Stiles shouted. "I must get help."
"You will not find it outside the woods," the wolf said. "Go back to your village, and I will bring help to you."
"Can I trust you?" Stiles asked.
"Within three days, you will have what you need," the wolf said. "I give you my word. If I break this promise, you may take my pelt."
Stiles did not want to turn back, but the wolf had let him pass before when his need had been great. This time, he had to trust. "Then I accept your help, Mr. Wolf."
"Hurry back to your village before dark," the wolf said, and darted back into the woods.
***
The first morning after Stiles returned, there were a dozen rabbits piled at the boundary of the village and the forest.
The second morning, there were a half dozen bucks.
The third morning, there were so many ducks and quail and deer that Stiles couldn't count them all.
The villagers cried at the bounty, because they were saved. Some said it was the fairies. Some said it was the gods.
But Stiles took two quail into the forest, to a very particular part of the path, and left them there.
"Thank you for saving us, Mr. Wolf," he said to the trees.
As he ran back to his village, he heard a long, lonely howl behind him.
***
Winter soon loosened its grip, and the forest warmed toward spring. Flowers blossomed, new leaves sprang forth, and the game was once again plentiful. Stiles and Scott spent many days venturing out to trap rabbits and squirrels, and to gather herbs. Before, they had stayed close to the village. But Stiles, emboldened by his interactions with the wolf, led them further and further from the village boundaries.
"But the woods are dangerous!" Scott protested. "The wolf will come for us."
"As long as we are back before dark, it will be fine," Stiles said. "The wolf will not harm us."
But one fine spring day, as they were hunting in the woods, Scott suddenly vanished. Stiles searched for him, and called for him, but could find no trace of him.
Heart in his throat, he raced down the path through the woods, seeking that one spot.
The wolf jumped out in front of him. "Where are you going?"
"My friend," Stiles gasped out. "He's missing in these woods. Please, I have to find him."
The wolf blinked. "You want...my help?"
"Yes!" Stiles shouted. "Please, he's my brother, help me find him."
The wolf walked to him, and sat on his haunches in front of Stiles. "Go back to the village, and I will find him."
Stiles shook his head. "No. I am going with you."
"It's dangerous," the wolf said.
"I don't care!" Stiles clenched his fists. "It was my fault we were so far out, it's my fault he was taken. I can't stay behind and wait!"
The wolf regarded him for a long moment, and then crouched on all fours. "Then let me carry you, and we will find him together."
Stiles buried his fingers in the wolf's thick fur and hoisted himself on its back, and the wolf took off through the woods.
The wolf ran faster than Stiles could ever have gone, and soon they were so deep in the forest, Stiles wasn't sure he could find his way out again.
They rode through the woods until they came to a dark cave.
"Your friend's scent is inside this cave," the wolf said. "But be careful. There is another wolf in these woods, and he is not kind."
"I am not afraid," Stiles said. "You're here with me."
He ran into the cave, and just as the wolf had said, Scott was inside, hurt but alive.
"Stiles!" Scott cried. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to find you," Stiles said. "The wolf helped me."
"The wolf?!" Scott said.
Just then, they heard the most tremendous noise from outside the cave. Stiles ran outside, and found his wolf locked in combat with another--a vicious monster, with patchy fur and a terrifying row of fangs.
Without a thought for his own safety, Stiles grabbed up a rock and threw it, striking the other wolf in the head. The wolf howled, and his wolf tackled it to the ground and ripped out its throat.
Stiles ran to his wolf. "Are you hurt?"
The wolf nudged his arm. "I will be fine. Please, get your friend and I will take you to your village."
"It is dark and you're hurt," Stiles protested. "Let's stay in the cave tonight, and we can go back when it's light."
The wolf grumbled a bit, but followed Stiles into the cave and settled down on the ground.
Before he fell asleep, Stiles gave him a hug. "Thank you for saving my friend, Mr. Wolf," he whispered, and fell asleep curled up beside him.
***
They returned safely to the village, and Scott and Stiles told everyone what had happened. Some believed him, some did not, but Stiles only cared about his wolf. Spring moved on into summer, and the forest seemed quieter, happier.
Stiles had no reason to go down the path into the woods anymore, no reason to go looking for his wolf, except one.
So one day he set out from the village, down the path through the woods, until he reached a very particular spot on the trail.
The large black wolf padded out from the trees and sat in front of him. "Where are you going?" it asked.
"Nowhere," Stiles said. "I came to see you."
"Why?" the wolf asked.
"I had something to give you," Stiles said.
"And what is that?"
Stiles took a deep breath and gave the wolf a kiss on the corner of his snout.
Suddenly, the wolf transformed, and before him there was no longer a wolf, but a man with dark hair and pale eyes.
Before Stiles could move, the man grabbed his hands earnestly. "Thank you for breaking the curse!"
"Curse?" Stiles repeated.
"My uncle offended an enchantress," the man said. "She was going to kill him, but I begged her to show mercy, since he was my only family. So instead, she transformed us both into monsters that showed our true hearts. She told me that because my intentions had only been to protect my family, my curse would be lifted if I ever met my true love."
"Your uncle," Stiles said. "Was he the wolf who took Scott?"
The man lowered his head and nodded.
Stiles stepped closer and squeezed his hands. "And your true love...is me?"
At that, the man raised his head, his pale eyes swimming with tears. "You are the only one who spoke to me, the only one to seek me out. I just wanted to keep the village safe from my uncle."
Stiles let go of the man's hands, but only to cup his cheeks and kiss him again. "I was starting to think of you as my wolf," he whispered.
The man laughed softly and brought his hands up to cover Stiles's. "I can still be yours, if you want that."
"I would like that," Stiles admitted. "But I would like to know your name, as well."
The man smiled, and it was like the sun rising. "My name is Derek."
***
Stiles and Derek moved into their own little cottage at the border of the village and the woods, close enough that they could visit Stiles's father twice a week for dinner and far enough into the woods that they could protect the village from any dangers.
The village is still in the middle of the deep, dark wood, but now the villagers travel freely, knowing a wolf (a no longer cursed wolf, they said) and his mate protect the path.
And Stiles and Derek lived happily ever after, until the end of their days.