Sorry this chapter took a while. School got a bit hectic for the moment. Just this week I had 3 meetings on 3 different days, me being the president and a chair for two of them with all of them ending at 3:30 pm (PS I start school at 7:45AM which means I wake up at 5:30 in the morning so I can get to school on time and have enough time to do my daily morning errands). I just got tired and couldn't find the gusto to write. But now I have it again and here comes chapter 11 (I can't believe I already have 11 chapters already, guys! Amazing)!
-The Influence of One-
And another thing—you can't go around the woods with that confused air about you anymore. You are more of the sárkány now than ever before—you can't be a timid anymore Stiles.
Stiles sighed heavily, his grip on the wheel of the Stiles Mobile making his knuckles go white. For the past five hours of his life his inner sárkány has been on his ass, chewing him out before spitting him out to just place him back in its mouth to chew him up again. It was just about time for another egység ülés (about two weeks have passed) and Stiles was now truly to get an insight into this whole Destined business. Stiles had an idea of what it would entitle him to do but he didn't want it to happen nor was he going to go through with it—which was the start of this whole sárkány verses Stiles business.
Stiles shifted quickly into the sárkány, wincing slightly, expecting the pain that never came. What the heck? Stiles thought as he turned his neck and inspected himself as the sárkány. Yep. He definitely went through the change all at once and in a rush with no pain to him whatsoever. Does this mean…? Stiles blinked and his mind supplied him with the answer.
He did it. He was now fifty percent bonded with the sárkány. He can now freely shift without pain.
I did it! Stiles' brain cheered as he reared slightly in joy. The animals around him felt his joy and jumped, reared and called out in happiness for him. They definitely were the best friends and worshipers the sárkány could ever hope for.
It was after his moment of celebration did his brain supply him with more information… information that made Stiles coil in disgust.
No. I'm not doing it! Stiles complained to his inner sárkány.
The beast within the teen shook its head. In Stiles' mind as the sárkány, he could see his inner beast as a blurry mirrored reflection of himself, the only difference was that his mirrored form moved on its own accord and had its own thoughts… for now. You have to Stiles. The inner beast spoke, green eyes narrowing at its real counterpart. It is Destined.
I don't want to hear if it is Destined or not. I won't go through with it.
You have no other choice. The beast bit back, head jerk back in anger. You have no control over this—and neither do I—so suck it up and take it with a head held high. You are the erdőben sárkány Stiles and you must follow the traditions that have been laid before you.
Atalik never followed this tradition. I choose to follow him.
He was the first. He laid the rules for the others, he started us, created us, lead us. Only he was so gifted to not have to go through with this because he did not need it. He had the respect, the hold on his power. You do not.
I don't want to hear it! Stiles yelled in his mind, wishing that he could instead yell it verbally to the heavens as he felt this battle quickly being lost to him. My life will be over!
It will if you do not go through with this.
And just like that Stiles lost that battle… but he was not going to give up on the war.
The inner beast knew this of course, that Stiles wasn't about to go down without a fight. It usually happened in the sárkány whose Destined wasn't The One. The teens would feel an over abundance of pride and superiority and thought that they could change their own destinies as if they actually had a say in it.
Stiles parked the Jeep in his new special spot, front and center of the student parking lot in the front of the school, the opportune parking spot. Stiles could care less as he sat in his car, ignored the stares from the other students that he always got (the teachers were now over it and treated him normally now) as he sent out a mass text message to the Pack and the hunters, reminding them about the egység ülés tonight. Stiles shut his phone (his father wanted to get him a new one but Stiles denied him saying that the new car was good enough, which to him it was but to the sárkány it wasn't) and got out of his car with his things in hand. Stiles sighed and pressed the lock button on his keys and thought about his social life in high school. He was now a loner. Not because he was now miraculous (a word supplied by the sárkány) but because he chose it to be. As the erdőben sárkány it is expected to not pick favorites amongst the community—hanging out with a group of people longer than the other was seen as favoritism in the eyes of sárkány rulings. It sucked not being to be with his friends as much anymore but he was working it out.
On days he spent with the Pack for whatever reason he would time it on his phone and then make sure he followed around the Argents or some of the other hunters for that same amount of time, carefully planning it down to the second. Both sides hated it—the Pack because Stiles was always distracted with the timing or on sárkány business and the fact that he was buddy-buddy with the hunters; the hunters because they didn't want to be hanging out with a supernatural being that runs with the wolves, a being they can't kill for if they did it would plummet the world into chaos, or at the very least the nature on earth (Glenn made sure they all knew the severity of murdering a sárkány).
Stiles sighed again and felt like crying. Being the sárkány was beginning to suck. It'll get better again Stiles. Once you go through with the Destined process. In fact, the quicker you accept it, the quicker you'll feel better.
Oh, like the quicker you accepted me to prevent my pain when I shift? Stiles countered, being especially snooty to his inner beast.
Érinti. The inner sárkány said, the word being the Hungarian equivalent to touché.
I hate you—you know that? 'Cause if you don't I'm telling you that now—I hate you.
You don't. The inner sárkány said shortly and Stiles groaned, knowing that yes, he didn't hate his inner beast at all. He only hated his destiny.
-The Influence of One-
The second egység ülés was in the Hilton Hotel in town this time around. The text message that told the hunters and the Pack of the location specifically stated to wait in the lobby for a Ms. Mabels that would then lead them into the conference room where they would hold their meeting. It was probably the tensest ten minutes in the lobby as the two sides glared at each other from across the large expanse of the room when finally a tall (about five foot ten inches, and this was without her pair of ivory, three inch pumps) dark skinned woman with straight, blonde hair that passed just a bit past her shoulders entered the lobby wearing a knee length red skirt and belted, three-quarter inch jacket suit with a white tank top underneath came into the room with her hands clasped together. "Argents, Hales, please follow me." She spoke as she turned and began to lead the way deeper into the hotel.
The groups followed her, Argents reluctantly leading the way, with the Pack feet behind the hunters, watching their every move for any funny business. But there would be no funny business tonight. To save another repeat of the first egység ülés, the Argents and the three other hunters made sure to leave behind all their weapons, even though it was beyond their better judgment and even the Pack was planning to remain in their best behavior to spare them a tussle with Stiles the erdőben sárkány.
Ms. Mabels stopped before a pair of French doors, a sign on the right door reading occupied, and waited for the two groups before she opened the doors and walked in, revealing that this particular conference room was probably the best one in the hotel, perhaps not in size (there was just one super large, obviously custom made, table in the center with an offset number of chairs on both sides, seven on the left and six on the right) but definitely in style. The room was a soft neutral color of beige but the whole room had the theme of gold and royalty, with blue and gold thread carpet, high crystal chandelier, the custom tables, extremely padded and comfortable chairs and crystal vases with live trillium flowers (Stiles' flower which was not at all in season and hard to obtain) running down the center of the large table, three in total. But what surprised the two groups of hunters and werewolves the most was that Dr. Deaton and Ms. Morrell were in the room, sitting in two seats at the farthest head of the table, Stiles sitting way across from them at other table head, his father standing behind him with his hands on the back of the seat, all four of them having a casual conversation with each other as they waited for the groups to be seated.
Ms. Mabels stopped the groups, though, before they could be seated. "You all have a seating chart that will be followed upon entry of this conference room." As she spoke the four's conversation didn't cease nor did it lower in volume or even have a hitch when she began speaking. Ms. Mabels reached for a clip board that was set on a small half table that was pressed up against the wall by the doors. "When I call your name the first ones I call will sit closest to His Highness and the last one sitting the farthest away from him." She paused and moved to the first chair on the left. "Like this: Peter Hale," she moved down to the next seat over, "Derek Hale," this is when she stopped walking and just merely opted to point to the respective chair, "Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Boyd Jones, and Erica Reyes."
The Pack pushed through the Argents, tensions high as they brushed against the hunters and as said hunters glared at each respective werewolf, all except Allison whose eyes passed quickly over the faces of the werewolves that passed by, lingering longer on Scott's face before he took his seat.
Ms. Mabels then walked over to the other side as the Pack took their seats. This finally stopped the conversation between the Stilinskis and Deaton and Morrell as they all watched as Ms. Mabels sat the Argents. "Victoria Argent, Christopher Argent, Allison Argent," she paused and glanced at the three others. "And quite frankly it doesn't matter where you three sit for your family isn't the prominent hunter family here, in fact, it's quite pathetic." The men growled as they took their seats as Ms. Mabels went to stand behind Stiles to his left, his father to his right.
Stiles sat in silence for a moment, his family's hooded cloak around his shoulders, his hood down along with his eyes as he dreaded this egység ülés. Glenn placed a hand on his son's shoulders and shook him gently and Stiles grew in confidence as he straightened his back and finally looked at the many faces around the table. "Thank you Brooke." Stiles said as he turned his head to the woman at his side.
Brooke Mabels bowed, legit bowed before she spoke. "It was my pleasure Your Highness."
"Ms. Brooke Mabels is the owner of this hotel." Stiles spoke to the others, filling in the gaps. "She is a supernatural as well, an elf. Dr. Alan Deaton and Ms. Arella Morrell are both, what we in the supernatural call, as confidants, otherwise known as wizards and witches. They will both be attending these meeting from now on. As I was telling them earlier, I couldn't allow them in the first egység ülés for the purposes that they were not required nor did I trust them as the sárkány."
"But we got that matter taken care of." Alan said as Arella crossed her arms before her chest. Both wore their leather jackets and black clothing which is now modernly associated with witches and wizards; before it used to be cloaks and floor length dresses of purple, black, gold and sometimes other colors to accent them as confidants.
"It's a pleasure to be included into your domain Your Highness." Arella added as she bowed her head.
Stiles blinked and took a deep, calming breath. "Before we begin, Brooke would like to say a few words."
Brooke nodded her head, her violet eyes looking across the table. "I managed to get His Highness this room for free from my higher officials. This is my gift to His Highness, but if something were to go wrong and damages happen, the being who will be charged will be charged not only for the destroyed objects but for the past meetings as well, so don't even think about reacting too harshly. That is all."
Stiles stood then with a sigh and officially began the meeting. "The first topic of this meeting will be about the full moon, as all egység ülés will be about if it comes before the full moon. This is the first time for Beacon Hills to have a sárkány, ever, as well as werewolves and hunters to collaborate about the events of the night of the full moon. To begin, I understand that the younger werewolves may still have problems controlling themselves. I want to know exactly how well they are in self-control, what is being done to help them and how you are currently keeping them in check." Stiles glanced over at Peter who under his two different eyes shifted in desire. "Peter, care to enlighten me?"
"Of course Your Highness." Peter sounded with absolutely no sarcasm. He stood before he began and as he stood Stiles sat, giving Peter the table's full attention. "The younger of the Pack are doing better than when they were first bit, obviously. It's been a few months and now they are adequately well at their self-control. Each has or is recently looking for an anchor to keep them in check. Scott is well off, there's no need to worry about him, Isaac has his anchor and has by far the best control out of the lot of them, Jackson too has his anchor but he needs a bit more practice, it takes him longer to control himself, and Boyd and Erica are still looking for theirs, Erica is worse than Boyd though. She's having the most difficult time."
"And what exactly are you doing to assist them?"
"We've been training them almost daily or at the very least two times a week. We also have tools and… methods, that keeps them restricted that helps them not to lash out and attack. Other than that it's mostly their own journey and problem, as bad as that sounds."
Stiles nodded. He understood this, hell, before he was the sárkány he always ran with the wolves, constantly. He just needed to let everyone else in the room hear it. Stiles motioned for Peter to sit, which he did, as Stiles stood. "And let's not have any new werewolves running around Peter. If you turn another person in Beacon Hills then you will be punished for breaking a law for it is now law, do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Highness." Peter said, nodding. In all truth he hadn't thought about turning another teen or anyone for that matter since the first egység ülés two weeks ago. All his thoughts have been on Stiles and how to court a being that is far higher in stature than Peter could ever dare to imagine he could be.
"As for the Argents, the code for the hunters, what does it entitle you to do? Summarize please."
Stiles sat and glanced across the three Argents, expecting one of them to stand. Victoria was adamant about not answering the questions and leaking information to the Pack, Chris was in the same boat as she and Allison was sure that one of her parents would stand to answer her classmate and friend. When they did not she stood, receiving glares from her parents and the three other hunters. "The main points really are to only hunt werewolves who harm humans, don't kill younger werewolves like children and don't kill or endanger humans."
"All codes that your family have broken before in the past few months alone." Peter challenged. Allison glanced over at the Alpha while the other hunters glared at him. A verbal fight was about to ensure when Stiles squealed loudly, causing everyone in the room to flinch violently and coil in amongst themselves.
"Silence!" Stiles yelled, his teal section of his left eye stretching over to cover the pupil of the eye completely. "It is very apparent to me that the hunters of Beacon Hills have in fact broken a few codes throughout the years. I intend to put an end to that." Stiles turned his head and stared intently at Victoria. "From now on it will be I who will oversee the hunters, not Victoria Argent."
"What?" Victoria yelled as her husband blinked in shock and her daughter, wide mouthed, stared between Victoria and Stiles. The Pack on the other hand were also shocked, but very faintly knew in the back of their minds that something like this would have occurred and it did. "You cannot oversee the Argents and the hunters. Only a hunter by blood can do this—and you do not have the blood!"
"I do indeed have the blood." Stiles countered, eyes now shimmering chartreuse as he challenged the leader of the Argents. "My superior blood tells me as such."
"You can't do this! I—"
"It would be my great pleasure to warn you Victoria…" Peter began, effectively cutting off Victoria as she glared at the Alpha. "That you have but two offenses left that were offered to you by His Highness and though, as much as I would love to see what would happen when one gets three strikes, I hate to see him blow a fuse over someone as annoying as you."
Victoria growled but nonetheless sat down, heading the werewolf's words if only for the time being. Brooke behind the still sitting Stiles rolled her eyes. "What atrocity this is. You would think that their instincts would guide them. It seems that the Alpha seems to have gotten it already."
Isaac grinned and leaned on his knees onto the table. "I know what my instincts are telling me, and they're telling me that you look absolutely beautiful."
"Can it pup." Brooke said with little to no emotion. "Despite what you think or wish to believe, there will be nothing between us. I am far older than you and will be far too busy being the erdőben sárkány's secretary to deal with young blood."
Stiles spoke before Isaac could; wanting to stay on topic for as long as he could, despite the nearing, dreaded one. "Allison you may sit down now." She nodded and sat down, her eyes glancing to meet Scott's who blinked back at her before turning his head to Stiles. But Stiles was already one step ahead of his best friend, though the stability and current standing of their friendship due to Stiles' busy schedule is indubitably in question. "As for the question of Scott McCall and Allison Argent…" At the mention of the two teen's names the whole room went tense as this very finicky subject came into play. "I see no reason to why they can't continue seeing each other."
"Yes!" Scott yelled as he jumped up from his seat, momentarily forgetting where he was. He froze, arms highs in the air in victory fists as his eyes bounced from person to person, some staring at him with raised brows, others, most of them, glaring at him. He chuckled nervously and sat back down, scooting in his chair before he settled down. "As you were saying Sti—I mean Your Highness?"
Stiles shook his head at Scott, but a small smile did prod through at the corner of his lips. "As I was saying Scott, I really see no threat in your relationship with Allison. For the most part the threat lies within her family. Not even the Alpha and his Pack seem to be as judgmental of the relationship as the hunters are. And since unity is the talk of the show, peace, of course, will ensure and your relationship together shouldn't be troubled any longer. And if it ever is by any member of both parties, I needn't worry about Alan or Arella in this matter, come to me as quickly as possible and I will personally see to it. I protect those in my territory, and with that your rights and you do have the right to see each other until otherwise stated by me."
"Thank you Sti—"Both Allison and Scott were saying together when Stiles added one more thing.
"But, give me a reason to talk away that right and I will take it away, easily. So don't do anything you might regret. In short—don't endanger other people, especially the members of both parties."
"Yes, we understand Your Highness." Allison said, nodding her head and smiling at the same time, ignoring the gazes her parents and fellow hunters were giving her. "Thank you."
"Yes, thank you Stiles—I mean Your Highness. Dang I gotta remember that." Scott corrected himself again, whispering that last sentence.
The sárkány sighed and shook his head, a smile breaking onto his face. "Don't worry about it Scott, as goes for the rest of you. I'm going to try to keep these egység ülés as casual as possible despite the traditions. A little edit in the way things are done shouldn't be too much of an issue."
"Say that to my parents." Brooke put in, sounding snooty. "So what if I hate the woods or if I'm taller than an Amazonian woman—at least for elf standards? It's not my fault I hate dirt and have weird genetics."
Stiles laughed out loud for a moment, the sound glittering through the room, calming the air if just for the next few minutes. "Continuing on," Stiles started as he looked straight at Dr. Deaton and Ms. Morrell, "these two would like to give you a bit more insight as to what they do."
The two stood, their arms at their sides, giving off the air of supremacy. "Ms. Morrell and I, as His Highness stated, are confidants to mythological and supernatural beings. I was, and still is, the confidant to the Hale family and the Pack."
"I on the other hand handle all other supernatural beings." Arella continued. "I already knew of Ms. Brooke Mabels, and I had an inclining to Lydia Martin being immune to anything and all supernatural, and of course, the werewolves themselves. I will be helping the sárkány by serving you when he cannot as well as helping him if he so asks for it."
"In fact," Dr. Deaton added, "I too will help him, as will all of you. By attending these egység ülés you are participating in an old, and nearly lost, source of power brought upon through unity. In the most extreme example, Atalik, the first of the erdőben sárkány and King Arthur in Camelot."
"You mean to tell me," Jackson spoke up, sitting up from his previous leaning back, 'I'm-not-caring-at-all-what-is-happening' position, "that the great King Arthur of Britain was a sárkány."
"And one of the best following Atalik." Stiles answered. "Despite having to result to war on occasion, he kept everything fairly decent and fair between werewolves, hunters, fairies, elves—you name it, he did it."
"The status quo of the egység ülés is blatantly obvious, even in the first meeting." Ms. Morrell said, giving an insight to the meetings. "Obviously the sárkány is at the top of the ladder, followed by his family, the confidants believe it or not, the first strongest supernatural beings, in this case the werewolves, being followed by the next which is the hunters and so on, this including the small community of elves made up of—how many Brooke?"
"Five."
"Five, thank you. Made up of five elves, Lydia, and one mermaid I believe."
"Not any longer." Stiles said, shaking his head. "She moved once I became the sárkány. The animals were telling me on how she detested the woods now that it was centered on me."
"Vain creatures." Brooke stated, rolling her eyes.
"Hey now." Stiles said, looking back at the elf. "My species is pretty vain too."
Brooke was about to speak, to apologize mostly, and perhaps joke around with her boss, but Peter beat her to the punch. "Vain? You? I seriously doubt that. You are bringing us all together Stiles. I doubt any creature that brings along such good fortune can be described as vain."
Stiles stared at Peter, his heart racing. Glenn chuckled, to lighten the once again tense air, and added "Then you don't know what it entitles to be a sárkány Hale."
"This comes to the last topic; you make take your seats you two." Stiles said quickly as he stood, waiting for the confidants to sit down before he began again. "It has come to my attention that by Destined has been located." The beings in the room shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Glenn had told them of the sárkány's Destined, at least the bare bones of it; just enough to give them an insight to what it entitles Stiles to do and become. Stiles sighed, releasing a long breath that he had taken long ago to calm himself as he thought about the ways to come out with it. "It is… my immense… pleasure, to say that—"Stiles sighed, eyes closing shut for the moment as he dreaded the next words to come out from his lips. "Peter Hale is to be my Destined."
Derek tensed beside his uncle, eyes wide as he stared at Stiles' face, searching for any traces of a lie, he listened to his heart and could only hear the steady beating of a nervous heart, but not because Stiles was lying, but because it was in fact Peter as his Destined. Peter on the other hand smirked, eyes glistening as he beamed. Stiles was Destined to be with him, and he was Destined to have Stiles. All was working according to plan—he would in fact have Stiles.
"My father will go over the details of how and what it means to be my Destined Peter…" Stiles continued, swallowing at the end of his sentence as he finally looked at the Alpha. "But know this, I don't want you."
In a thick moment of uncertainty, Stiles' eyes betrayed him as they moved to look at Derek, eyes longing for the Beta as they returned back to normal, the teal returning back to its original size in Stiles' left eye. Peter growled, seeing that even though he had Stiles that it would seem that he would still have to fight to keep him. "Fine then. I will play this game with you and my nephew." The Alpha stood, the chair being thrown back in the werewolf's anger. "I know that you don't like me Your Highness, but I must warn you... you have picked a weak knight to fight for you. Laura was much stronger than Derek… and I killed her easily." With that Peter turned quickly on his heels and left the conference room, the French doors slamming open before limply drifting back to a semi-closed position.
The young sárkány sighed and nodded to himself, accepting the challenge that was now apparent to everyone in the room. He glanced once more at Derek and the second-in-command lowered his head, eyes turned upwards in Stiles' plead for liberation.
Derek Hale was not about to let Stiles fall into the hands of his uncle… not in a long shot.
Sorry again it took so long. Oh, and ignore the three hunters' unimportance in the chapter. I just didn't want to give them names and have to worry about it so I was just "You're not important because you're kinda not." So yeah… I also hope that the flashback scene in this chapter wasn't confusing in the italics and underline and stuff. It was just the opposite of what the regular "present" scenes are…
Anyways here's where all the major Sterek vs. Steter comes in, staring in chapter 11. The next chapter: The night of the full moon, three nights after the second egység ülés, Stiles is growing increasingly more Peter-centric in his dream, which is frightening him. As the sárkány takes a walk around his woods he runs into Derek Hale, and like in those romantic films, Stiles can't help but make his situation worse.
PLEASE REVIEW! IF YOU DON'T REVIEW THEN DEREK WILL FAIL AND PETER WILL WIN! THEN STILES WILL BE FORCED TO BECOME PETER'S DESTINED AND WE DON'T WANT THAT! WE WANT STEREK—NOT STETER! SO REVIEW! REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW! PLEASE!
