A/N: A little something I thought of after seeing the DVD cover for Scream of the Banshee. This is my first Teen Wolf fanfic (also the first time I'm writing in this point of view) so please let me know how good (or bad) this is and whether I should carry on with this story…
I am attracted to imminent death and this trail is so obvious a human could follow it. I thread my way carefully and quietly through the trees, finally coming upon the scene that has pulled me here.
The hunter is the first to spot me coming out of the tree line. The woman does a double take and from the look on her face I realise that I have shifted from my disguise and am now in my true form.
At her strangled gasp and stricken look, all the others turn in my direction. Their reactions and expressions vary; from fear, shock and curiosity to… I smile mischievously… recognition. Yes, I think to myself, making eye contact with the young man confronting the hunter, he knows what I am.
Coming to stand beside him, my gaze flits over the still immobile hunter, before I turn around to his allies spread out behind him. It still amazes me how much these children have accomplished and how loyal they are to this troubled young man. As rough and unbalanced as he can be at times he has managed to attract a strong pack – one of the strongest I have seen in over 200 years. When they reach their potential. But for that to happen, their leader must first reach his.
The teenager closest to me takes a hesitant step forward and cocks his head to the side staring at me. I calmly stand under his scrutiny, knowing that his poor – completely human - brain is working overtime trying to make the connections that his instincts are giving him. Suddenly he jerks as if shocked and his eyes go wide… in recognition of who I am but not of what I am.
"Morgan?" he gasps.
"Hello, Stiles." I smile at him. I gaze steadily at the remaining teenagers. They have now crowded together as if to show solidarity against a new threat and my smile broadens.
"You're a…" Stiles starts, frowning as his eyes roam over me from head to toe taking in my new appearance. Black, curly hair and green eyes have been replaced by silver-white straight hair and electric-blue eyes reminiscent of Derek's beta state. Short cut fingernails have been replaced by long, elegant talons to rival any wolf's claws.
"You're a…" he starts again. He sighs dejectedly and shakes his head in frustration. "What are you?"
"The Morrigan," is the calm reply from Derek. I turn to regard him. He stands looking at me with a neutral look on his face, his back to Kate, the hunter temporarily forgotten. A sad smile appears on his face. "My wolf sensed something familiar about you. I'm sorry – I should have remembered."
I laugh. "Well, you were five the last time you saw me in this form."
A look crosses his face, obliterating the smile. My heart breaks for him.
"I remember," he whispers. "You came for my grandfather."
The room is quiet when I enter. The only noise coming from the elderly werewolf's laboured breathing and the occasional soft snivelling of the five year old boy snuggled into the old man's side. I stand in the corner, waiting for the child to become aware of my presence. When he does, his eyes widen and flash an ice blue colour to rival my own.
I smile at him and take a step forward. He pushes himself into a sitting position, careful not to jostle the sick man at his side, and wipes at his tear streaked face.
"Hello, Derek." I whisper, taking a seat next to him on the edge of the bed. "My name is Morrigan."
His eyes slide from my face to the closed door behind me and back again, his tiny brain putting the pieces together.
"What are you?" His eyes flash blue again.
I smile… smart boy… and reach up to gently wipe away a tear.
"Different people call me different things. But it's my job to take strong and brave people – like your grandfather – home when they pass." I card my hand through his thick black curls before reaching under his chin to make him look me in the eye. "Do you understand?"
He nods and looks to the side, smiling at his grandfather. "He won't hurt anymore?"
"No, Derek. I promise, he won't hurt anymore."
He thinks for a moment and then looks at me with a radiant smile on his tiny face. He surprises me by wrapping his arms around my neck, giving me a quick hug. When he pulls back again he turns serious.
"Make sure he always has jelly beans. He likes jelly beans."
I can't help but laugh. "I will, I promise."
He bends down to give his grandfather a kiss on the cheek and then jumps off the bed. He stands at the door and just watches. I smile at him and then turn to the old man dying in the bed. I reach out and take his hand.
"Wake up, Gabriel Hale." I command him. "It is time to go home."
Gabriel opens his eyes and looks at me. He sits up and smiles, looking almost young again. He notices little Derek standing in the corner and his smile wavers as he looks at me questioningly.
"He understands," I look back at the little boy and smile again. I turn my attention back to Gabriel. "Do not worry, Gabriel. Your grandson has much yet to do. He has a destiny to fulfil."
Gabriel frowns at that. "Must he endure that, Lady Morrigan?" He smiles sadly at his grandson who stands staring at us not understanding our conversation. "So much responsibility for someone so young. It will surely break him."
I reach up and stroke his cheek. "He is the epitome of the Hale Bloodline, Gabriel. His enemies will find he is not so easily broken. And he will have allies. Strong allies in their own right… but together, under his leadership… unstoppable. People who will love him and strengthen him." I smile again. "The Hale pack will be again what it once was… a force of nature!"
"You worry too much, old man. It is time to go."
Gabriel turns towards his grandson and kneels in front of the little boy. Once again tears are leaking from his eyes and he whimpers as his grandfather wipes them away.
"You be a good boy and we will see each other again, ok."
Derek nods and wraps his arms around his grandfather's neck, hugging him tightly. "Miss you." He whispers, letting go and taking an unsteady step back.
Now it was my turn to address the child. I kneel down to look into his eyes and they flash blue again. It amazes me how much control this child has over his wolf. An indication of things to come.
"I have to go now, little one. It was very nice meeting you." I ruffle his black curls and he giggles. I stand and turn only to stop when his little hand grabs mine.
"Will you come for my Papa?" his innocence breaks my heart. I attempt a smile.
"Of, course, Derek. When it is his time, I will come again."
"Promise!" It is a command, not a request.
"I promise, little one. I will guide each member of your family home when their time arrives."
Five year old Derek Hale seems satisfied with that answer and smiles at me confidently as his grandfather and I leave.
I step closer to him and reach out to stroke the tear that has appeared there unbidden. His eyes close and he leans into my touch.
"I kept my promise, Derek." His eyes snap open at my words and he holds his breath. I smile reassuringly, my thumb stroking patterns over the skin of his cheek.
"I was with each of them at the end. None of them suffered. They are at peace."
He stares at me, still not breathing and whispers one word. "Laura?"
"I guided her home, as well. She watches over you, little one. They all do."
At my words, Derek's legs give way and he drops to his knees, his shoulders shaking as the grief of his family's passing that he has held onto tightly, is finally released. I run my fingers through his thick black hair, just as I had done all those years before.
He throws back his head and howls and screams his pain and anguish wordlessly. Kate, still standing to one side, covers her ears and cringes at the sound; fear evident now on her face. The members of Derek's pack gather around us, offering what comfort they can.
As the sound fades away I turn my attention to the woman now on her knees. How appropriate. As I take a step towards her, she scrambles up and away from me. In a fit of panic, she points her gun at me and pulls the trigger.
The shot rings out around the clearing and I stagger slightly as the projectile rips through my shoulder, inches away from my heart. Snarls and growls echo off the trees and Derek is at my side, checking my wound even though it is unnecessary.
"I'm fine, Derek." I whisper, staring once again at the ashen faced hunter. As I take a step forward, she takes a step back.
"No," Derek grabs my arm and pulls me back. He looks down at me and his eyes flash the red colour of an Alpha. "This is my fight, not yours." He looks at Kate again. "Just answer me this."
I reach up and touch his cheek. "Anything."
He looks at me again. "Will you guide her?"
I stare into his eyes. I know what he is asking and his request is a serious one. It pains me to answer him – no soul deserves that fate. But it is not my decision to make – thankfully.
I turn to look at her, pity for this wretched soul evident on my face and in my voice. "Katherine Argent has no right to be guided to the Halls. There is Another that awaits my call that will mark her passing."
She hears my words and her head shakes frantically, denying what she hears. She opens and closes her mouth as if not able to form coherent thoughts and words.
I walk towards her and reach for her shoulder as she stares at me pleadingly.
"Please." She begs, as Derek comes to stand beside me already shifting into lycan form. "Spare me." She falls to her knees as I shake my head.
"You sealed your own fate the day you murdered innocents. There is nothing I can do for you." I step back and turn towards the Hale pack.
"The scream of the Banshee means death to all who hear it." I explain to them and point in the general direction of the road. "I suggest that you get as far away from here as you can before I sound."
Scott steps forward still cautious of me. "What about Derek?"
"I don't care," comes Derek's tense answer. He doesn't take his eyes from Kate as he adds, "Just as long as I get to end her!" He finally looks up at me and we share an understanding. I nod.
"He will hear my call, and I will take his life with my own hands," I say as we stare into each other's eyes; his red eyes flashing ice blue for a split second. He nods in acceptance. I turn back towards the pack and face their righteous anger. "But now is not his time. He still has much to do."
As one, the pack looks towards their Alpha and only once he nods do they move away. They are all running by the time they reach the tree line. He looks back at me and I shrug.
"A half hour should be long enough." He turns back to staring at the now incoherent hunter kneeling at his feet.
Exactly thirty minutes later, I lift my head and sound my call. Immediately a presence is felt – black and cold and … empty.
Kate stares in absolute terror as a black shadow takes shape a few feet away. The shadow coalesces and writhes as it waits for the death that it is owed.
The hunter starts screaming even before the Alpha werewolf advances on her. The sound is cut off suddenly as claws slash at human flesh, tearing it from bone in viscous chunks. Warm blood sprays out as a heart pumps its last.
I watch with no pleasure as revenge for an entire family's cruel and senseless slaughter is finally met. I look at the Shadow and watch as the hunter's soul is dragged away, still screaming as she certainly will be for the rest of eternity.
The Alpha straightens from what is left of the hunter's unrecognisable, lifeless body and turns towards me. His eyes are as red as the blood still dripping from his claws. Slowly he calms his beast and the wolf retreats back into the caverns of Derek Hale's mind to lick wounds that will now, maybe, be allowed to heal.
Green eyes look at me as I hold out my hand and wait. He accepts my offer and we slowly make our way – hand in hand - back towards the house and then to the pack. Our pack… my pack.
My pack…
Derek has heard the Banshee's scream and one day my hand will end his life. My hand and no other. He is now under the protection of The Morrigan. I will take human form for the time being and take my place at his side… as his mate, until the time comes to guide his soul to the Halls.
A/N: I have taken some liberty with the mythology here… I apologise if I offend. The way I understand Wikipedia, the myth of the Banshee is closely associated with the myth of The Morrigan and they are sometimes considered one and the same. And then there is the obvious correlation between the Celtic myths of the Banshee and the Norse myths of the Valkyrie. Again I have blurred the lines there somewhat in my references to the Halls (meaning the Halls of Valhalla).