Merry Christmas, theycallmeturtle!
The story goes like this:
The forest was a world of its own: bright and alive during the day, still and full of whispers when the night fell. A path crossed the forest, and the wolves guarded the path. They were large, elegant beasts, or so a few people said. Most didn’t dare turn around when they thought they heard footsteps nearby or were unmistakably shaken by a loud howl.
When the moon was full and bright in the sky, the forest was filled with yips, howls, and barks. Those nights, some of the people of the town atop the hill looked out their windows and swore they could see creatures that were half man and half wolf. The creatures played, or fought, or hunted, and sometime would turn their bright eyes towards them.
When morning came, the town woke up to its routine. Gossipers would often point at one or two people who seemed like they had been up all night playing, or fighting, or hunting but still looked bright eyed and happy.
The town prospered as merchants came and went. Some left small offerings for the wolves alongside the path. Some left fish and meat, thinking a hungry wolf would be happy to go without hunting for a day. Others left wolf figurines carved in wood or moulded in clay, hoping the wolves would appreciate their artistry. The offerings always vanished in the night.
As news of the town’s prosperity traveled the land, thieves began to eye the Wolves’ Path with greed. However, their first attempts to ambush traveler were swiftly thwarted by the wolves.
Bandits would hide in trees, under bushes, behind rocks, and the wolves would take them. The bandits would appear later, their clothes torn and looking like that had been dragged miles through the dirt and mud. They would yell and curse the huge wolves of the forest, describing them as horrible monsters, bloodthirsty and cruel.
It wasn’t clear at what point the town’s passive acceptance of the forest’s guardians became fear. Parents began telling their kids to not play near the forest, lest a hungry wolf snatched them. Travellers stopped leaving offerings and instead shared frightful stories of barely-seen beasts in the Wolves’ Path. People stopped travelling at night, and during the full moons all doors and windows were closed shut.
It was then a that clan of hunters came to them, and offered to free them of the wolves.
*-*-*-*-*-*
“The wolves are our guardians!”
Captain Stilinski rubbed his forehead as his son yelled to no one in particular. The hunters’ propaganda had appeared overnight on every door. The frightful drawing of a raging wolf with the phrase “Are you safe?” had sent chills down his spine that very morning.
“Several people have gone missing, Stiles.” The Captain said as he finished putting on his leather armor. As the head of the guard of the town, he was due to meet the hunters later that day.
“No, several bandits and now these hunters have said people have gone missing,” Stiles corrected him. “And you yourself admitted that the bandits’ descriptions of their fallen comrades tend to be at best inconsistent.”
The Captain finished adjusting his armor and sighed. His son was bright, but he was also beyond stubborn when he thought he was right.
“We’re just talking to them,” the Captain said. “They say that in other towns the wolves have gone savage and they’re afraid the illness might have come here.”
“Illness?” Stiles scoffed. “They probably just want more pelts to dress themselves in.”
Stiles frowned as he remembered how the hunters were covered in fur. It didn’t look like they did it for warmth, but to show to the world that they would kill any creature that crossed their paths. There was a particularly scary woman that had a wolf head mounted on her shoulder.
“You do have a pair of boots made warm by rabbit fur,” his father reminded him.
“We ate those rabbits,” Stiles instantly countered. “We didn’t hunt them for sport.”
HIs dad nodded. “We’re just meeting with them, Stiles. I can’t forbid our elders from that.”
“But you can speak sense to them, right?” Stiles looked at his father pleadingly. His father sighed as he saw how desperate those honey eyes looked.
“I can try.”
*-*-*-*-*-*
In the end, it was hopeless. Even if one of the elders insisted that wolves had never harmed anyone and that if it weren’t for them the town would’ve never grown to be what it was today, the hunters were experts in making people afraid and exploiting that fear. Wild stories of missing children and torn bodies made the townspeople see the hunters as their only saviors.
Captain Stilinski and the seven guards under his command were to accompany the hunters in their mission. Stiles protested, of course, but his father reminded him that his duty was to the town, not the forest.
“Dad, you know this is wrong,” Stiles protested. “You’ve told me thousands of times that you’re thankful that the wolves keep bandits away.”
“It’s out of my hands, Stiles,” his father said. “The town voted, and I swore to serve them.”
“Then quit!”
“You would have us starve to save the wolves?”
Stiles bit his lip, realising too late what he was asking of his father. “I just- I feel this is wrong.”
Taking a deep breath, his father hugs him. “I’m not too happy about it myself. But the wolves have never been easy to find, so maybe they will know to hide for the following days.”
Stiles sighed, but as his father left an idea came into his head.
The wolves needed to know they had to hide, and he could be the one to tell them.
Without thinking, because he knew if he thought about it too much he would lose his bravado, he put on his warmest clothes and left a hastily written note that he had gone to visit his best friend, Scott, at the stables. It wasn’t rare for him to stay the night there, so maybe his father wouldn’t question it or worry.
The hunt would begin the following day, so Stiles had no time to waste. He took some food, milk and a thick red cape his mother had used to shield herself from the wind and rain. Thankfully, his house was near the forest so he managed to slip into the shades of the trees unnoticed.
He walked for a while, trying to keep to one direction so coming back would be easier. Once he felt he had gone far enough into the woods, he yelled out. “Wolves!”
He felt immensely silly then. The stories that wolves could turn to men were just that, stories. And while the wolves might not mind travellers in a path, they might be less forgiving of a wanderer in their forest. Maybe the reason those bandits have been taken was because they strayed from the path.
A light snow began to fall and he covered his face with the hood of the red cape. He kept on walking, shouting for the wolves every so often. Soon it was obvious that nighttime was not far away and that he was very, very lost.
Trying to keep himself from panicking, Stiles looked for his way back, but every tree looked the same and the sounds of owls and the howling wind made him feel like a dark creature was ready to pounce on him at any second. He didn’t shout anymore, instead trying to be as quiet as possible.
Then he saw them, a pair of bright blue eyes in the middle of the darkness. He yelled and fell back, pushing himself until his back hit a tree. The eyes came closer and closer and Stiles could make out the shape of the large wolf staring at him. He was darker than the night around him and huge. Is Stiles stood the beast’s shoulders would surely be taller than him.
“H-hey,” Stiles stammered. “Hey, wolfie.”
The wolf seemed to glare then.
“Ok, not wolfie. Wolf. C-can you understand me?”
The wolf cocked his head, as if curious. Stiles stood up slowly and paled as he saw the wolf lick his chops, looking hungry.
“Oh, crap.”
Stiles ran, and in the back of his mind he knew it was futile. The wolf could surely run faster than him and would need no more than a couple of strides to catch him in his mouth. He turned around and saw that wolf wasn’t pursuing him. And it was because he was looking back that he did not see the sudden fall in front of him.
The fall wasn’t long, but he felt his foot twist painfully before his head hit the ground and it all went blank.
*-*-*-*-*-*
“-hurt, it was cold, I couldn’t leave him there to die,” the voice of a man entered his ears. He opened his eyes and saw a wooden roof.
“You didn’t have to bring him to our den either,” a woman replied. “What about the cave near the pond?”
“Too far,” another voice, this time an older woman, said. “Can’t you hear his heartbeat, he is waking up.”
Stiles turned his head and saw them, three tall and robust figures. The tallest was a woman with long grey hair and a warm smile. Next to her, a younger version of the first woman with jet black hair and brown eyes glared at him. Behind them the most handsome man Stiles had ever seen in his life stared at him with eyes that were both green and grey, concern etched in his face. His frown looked very familiar.
“You’re up,” the grey-haired woman said, walking to him. “How are you feeling?”
“M’ head hurts,” Stiles answered, closing his eyes. He had tried to sit up and instantly he felt nauseous.
“You hit it pretty badly,” the woman explained. “How’s your foot?”
Stiles looked at his feet at the same time he bent both of them. The pain combined with the headache made him groan and lie back down, feeling miserable. He tried to remember why he was there and instantly the memory of the wolf came back to him.
“Wolves,” he said, sitting up and ignoring his head’s protests.
The younger woman tensed at his words, but the older woman’s smile grew wider and the handsome man approached. Stiles was momentarily distracted by his cheekbones and broad shoulders. Not to mention those eerily familiar eyebrows.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
The man cleared his throat and shook his head. “No, we haven’t properly met. I’m Derek, this is my mother Talia and my sister Laura.”
“What do you want with the wolves?” Laura asked, taking a step forward and looking at Stiles like he was some terrible beast instead of a hurt human.
“Laura,” her mother said in a warning tone. “He’s just a child.”
“I’m sixteen,” Stiles said, offended. “And where am I?”
“You’re safe,” Talia said to him, firm. “Although that’s only because my son found you.”
Stiles looked at Derek, who was now looking away with a slight blush on his face.
“Did you see the wolf?”
Laura huffed a laugh then and Derek nodded. His mother frowned at the both of them.
“You’re from the town,” Talia stated. “My son can get you back in the morning.”
“No, I-“ Stiles winced as he moved his sprained foot. “Are the wolves yours? Did you domesticate them or something? My town-“
“Wolves can’t be domesticated!” Laura said, covering her eyes with her hand.
“Laura, let him talk,” Talia said to her.
“My town wants to get rid of the wolves,” Stiles finally finished. “A clan of hunters came and said that we have to if we want to be safe. I wanted to warn the wolves.”
Laura instantly looked furious and Derek’s frown deepened. Talia stood and watched him with an unreadable look in her eyes.
“Why did you want to warn the wolves?”
Stiles glared at her. “Because they’re the ones that keep us safe!”
“And how did you even intend to warn them?” she went on, seemingly ignoring his answer. “They’re wolves.”
“I-“ Stiles stopped, looking down to his hands and blushing. “There’s stories that they’re not just wolves.”
“Oh?” Talia asked.
“Yeah, um, some people say that they understand when you talk to them, and that’s how they know who’s a merchant and who’s a bandit. There’s even some people that say that they can turn into humans.”
Stiles did not look up from his hands, not wanting to see the looks of disbelief and mockery in his hosts’ faces. Instead, Laura whispered to her mother “They can’t know, can they?”
“Know what?” Stiles asked, looking at the two women. When the two of them didn’t answer but instead left the room talking in hushed tones, he turned to Derek. The man was looking at him like he was a riddle or a puzzle, and still he frowned. Stiles was about to complain about that, when he remembered what Talia had said.
“Thanks.”
Derek looked comically surprised.
“For bringing me here,” Stiles explained, biting back a laugh. “For saving me, really.”
“I could never leave a hu- a person to die,” Derek said, moving towards Stiles and sitting in a stool next to the little cot where he was laying. He grabbed a wooden cup from a table to their side and handed it to Stiles. “Here, our healer said this would help.”
Stiles smelled the contents of the cup before taking a small sip. It was a sour tea that warmed his insides. Just then he realised that the room they were in was very cozy, warmed by a fireplace on the opposite side of the wall and from the looks of the roof and walls seemed to be inside a cave.
He turned back to Derek and the man was no longer frowning, instead he seemed to be studying Stiles. The look still seemed immensely familiar to Stiles.
“I feel like I’ve seen you before,” Stiles said suddenly. “Or, more like I’ve felt you see me before.” He groaned at his own words. “That doesn’t make any sense, does it? Sorry, I must’ve hit my head really hard.”
He moved again, and again his foot resented it. He yelped in pain and Derek moved to inspect it. Stiles could finally see that it was swollen and red.
“Oh, gods, I hope that’s not broken.”
“It isn’t,” Derek said. “Our healer said so,” he added when Stiles shot him a questioning look. “You will need to keep off it for a couple of weeks but that’s it. I was more worried about your head.”
“It still hurts,” Stiles said, wincing. Derek frowned at him, as if Stiles had summoned a headache just to annoy him.
“You should sleep,” Derek said, standing up, but just then Talia entered the room again with Laura and another man following her.
“The hunt begins tomorrow?” Laura asks, moving past Derek.
“He needs to rest,” Derek complains.
“Yeah,” Stiles says, grateful for Derek but deciding he’s through with Laura treating him like he’s wrong for wanting to protect the wolves. “At sunrise they leave the town.”
“See!” Laura turns to the rest of the people of the room. “This is why I said we should move. The more humans, the more danger to us.”
“Laura,” Talia tried to calm her. “This is our forest, we’re bound to it. Leaving isn’t as easy as that.”
“Adapting to a new forest is better than dying! They don’t even want us here anymore!” Laura’s tone was rising and her mother stretched a hand out to calm her.
“One of them came to warn us,” the second man in the room said. He looked like an older version of Derek. After he spoke, all four of them looked at Stiles.
“Yeah, that’s comforting,” Laura snorted.
Stiles’ eyes widened as what they said started making more sense. He looked at Derek who was frowning again and all of a sudden his mind placed where he had seen that look before.
“You’re the wolves,” he said, not believing it for a second. The four of them didn’t move or say anything, but he was convinced now. “You’re the wolves. You can turn into wolves.”
Derek was the one that walked towards him first, a pleading look in his eyes. “We can expla-“
Stiles placed a finger on his lips, quieting him, and pulled him forward, staring at his eyes with what could only be described as near lunacy.
“This. Is. AWESOME!”
*-*-*-*-*-*
Dawn came to the town, and it found the hunters grinning and ready to start the day. Captain Stilinski and his men joined them.
“Did your son appear?” A huntress with blonde hair asked him. She didn’t seem too worried for his son.
“No,” Captain Stilinski answered. “With some luck-“
“With some luck the wolves gave him a quick death,” the leader of the hunters, an older man finished his sentence for him. “Wasn’t he the kid that was trying to convince people that wolves were the guardians of this town?”
“We don’t know he’s dead,” Captain Stilinski countered.
The huntress snickered and a man about her age shook his head.
“He is,” she said. “Sooner you get that inside your head, sooner you can start killing the beasts that killed him.”
“Yeah, right!”
They all turned. It was quite the crowd, with the guards, the hunters and some townspeople that had gathered to see them off. A few of them gasped as they saw Stiles limping towards them being held by a man about his height but far more muscular. The man’s clothes were dirty and torn in places.
“I’m fine,” he said as his father ran towards him. The man at his side tensed but Stiles simply said, “It’s ok, Derek, that’s my dad.”
Captain Stilinski hugged his son tightly, not bothering to fight back the tears of relief. Stiles hugged him back just as tight.
“How?” his dad asked.
“Dad,” Stiles said. “There’s someone you should meet.”
Just then a gust of icy wind swept into town, bringing in a thick fog with it. There were yells of confusion and then growls. Captain Stilinski drew his sword, whispering, “the wolves” but Stiles stilled his hand. After a few moments the fog vanished.
The hunters were all tied or unconscious, and in the middle of the town a gigantic white wolf stood proud.
“Wh-what?” his father asked, stepping back.
“Dad, this is Talia Hale,” Stiles said, stepping forward towards the wolf. She also wants to talk to our elders.
*-*-*-*-*-*
The Wolves’ Path again became synonymous with safe passage, but now the safekeeping duties were split between the werewolves and the towns’ guard. The hunters left, swearing revenge, but at least one of them and his daughter dropped all weapons and asked to stay in town.
The elders apologised to the wolves, and the offerings began anew.
It was still rare to see the wolves, except for one.
Derek initially argued that he was only making sure Stiles’ foot was ok. Then he argued he was just making sure that he was doing the correct exercises so the foot would heal properly. Then Captain Stilinski found them making out behind one of the stalls at the weekly market and he couldn’t argue any further.
Soon the story of the boy who saved the wolves was being told in towns further and further away, becoming taller and wider with each retelling. In some versions of the story, the wolves aren’t shapeshifters, but one of them does turn into a prince when the boy kisses him.
“At some point,” Stiles says after a passing merchant had told them a version where Stiles’ singing made the wolves human (to be fair, Derek had said, hearing you sing would make any wolf wish he was human), “Someone needs to tell the story where the wolf looks at the human and falls impossibly in love with him.”
Derek grins at him. “Will that version tell how the boy almost died after running like a maniac?”
Stiles scoffs. “You need to get over that.”
“Never,” Derek says before kissing him again.
