Fic: Killing me softly
Title: Killing me softly
Genre: Teen Wolf
Rating: R
Spoilers: No
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Genre: Historical Medieval AU. Werewolves are known
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made
Summary: "I agreed to be your mate. I agreed to be your consort. I never agreed to be your whore."
Stiles walked slowly into the throne room. That wasn't its real name and the room did not contain a throne, but it was the room the King used when attending to royal business. He didn't stop walking as the others in the room stopped talking to watch him. After a year he was used to the looks, from the werewolves and the few humans that lived here.
He'd thought he'd find a few friends in those humans when he'd first arrived, but he'd been quickly disabused of that notion. He had only a few friends and none of them were human.
His husband, King Hale, watched as Stiles paused before the chair where he sat conversing with his friends and council members.
"Derek."
"Stiles."
Stiles refused to babble at his husband's frown and growled out response. He tightened one of his hands into a fist before relaxing it.
"I need to speak with you." He did not ask, but it was less of a demand than he'd wanted it to be.
Derek's eyes inspected him from head to toe and Stiles ignored the disappointment in his gaze. It was always there so why let it bother him anymore?
Derek's reply was expected.
"Have my steward find you a time when I'm not busy."
Derek turned to continue his conversation. Normally, Stiles would have gathered his remaining dignity and left, but not this time.
He stepped closer and pulled out a handkerchief. He dropped it in Derek's lap and waited. He knew everyone was watching while the wolves in the room could smell the blood. Derek frowned but picked up the white silk and unfolded it. Inside lay a patch of skin about one inch wide and two inches tall.
The tattooed ‘H’ that signified Stiles as a member of the royal family was inscribed on the skin. Derek's growl made everyone freeze. Stiles stepped closer. His voice was quiet but determined.
"Don't bother to try and find out who helped me remove it. I made all my servants rinse their hands in a solution."
Stiles had planned to leave it at that. Werewolves loved symbolism and everyone in the room knew what the removal of his tattoo meant. But he had months of anger built up so he tried to keep his voice steady as he let some of it out.
"Do you remember what you told me after we were married? I asked you why you chose me out of all the humans that volunteered to be considered as a choice for you." Stiles swallowed.
"You told me I smelled like anxiety, curiosity, and terror. You said I was scared, but I didn't show it as much as the others."
Stiles clenched his jaw though he wanted to shout.
"I agreed to be your mate. I agreed to be your consort. I never agreed to be your whore."
Derek's growl made him take a step back but he stopped, refusing to try and cajole or apologize. After a year he knew the tone of Derek's growls and this one was fury and a demand for an explanation.
"The Ambassador from Mathot propositioned me. It was a rather rude proposition but he wasn't the first." Stiles let his gaze find a few of the people in the room. He smirked as the guilty parties avoided his eyes. He turned to see Derek looking at the same people. Stiles continued.
"As I said, he wasn't the first but I decided he was going to be the last. You have ranted about your disgust with having to marry a human quite loudly and frequently. I never thought we'd fall in love, but I did think we could come to some sort of compromise and perhaps work together to do what you married me for; smooth the way for humans and werewolves to learn to live, if not together, at least in a way where both could thrive."
Stiles shook his head. "Every idea I had, you shot down. Often publicly. Every suggestion I had, you refused. You were not shy about trying to intimidate me into silence. And it worked. I approached you less and less. I became...ashamed of being a human." Stiles clenched his hands together.
"After the Ambassador's insult I looked at myself in the mirror and I couldn't even recognize the person in the reflection. I'm leaving before you grind me into dust." Stiles laughed.
"That was a little dramatic but I think you get it. Obviously, I can't go home but I will find some place away from here."
Stiles smiled and while it was not his usual smile he felt like his old self was still somewhere inside him.
He bowed and murmured, "King Hale," before he turned and walked out. With each step, something seemed to lift off his shoulders and he felt lighter than he had since stepping in this castle, attached to a man that hated him. He knew that this wasn't the end. Soon, Derek would find him and demand this and demand that, but Stiles was done acquiescing to anything Derek desired.
Back in his rooms, Isaac was waiting. He'd gotten most of Stiles' things packed and out of all that had happened to Stiles he could not regret finding the few friends he did have, wolves that didn't follow the King's trend of dismissing Stiles as weak and worthless and most offensive of all, human.
Isaac gave him a small smile. "How's your back? Is it still bleeding?"
"No. Thank you for asking."
Stiles was careful with his words. Derek would probably figure out that Isaac was the one that had removed his tattoo, but Stiles would not say anything out loud. Werewolves had great hearing and there was always someone ready to listen and report back.
Isaac nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. "Where are we going?"
Stiles sat on his bed. "We?"
Isaac smiled. "Did you think you were going alone? You are still Derek's mate and consort until he says so though I do appreciate you first volley." He gestured at a corner of the room where bags that were not Stiles' lay.
"Erica and I are traveling with you. We have a few others that we trust and they'll be coming too."
Stiles sighed and grabbed a book. He'd spent so much time in the library, he refused to feel guilty for deciding to take a few tomes with him. "I can't go home. Even if I declare loudly and publicly that this was my decision, there are those that will blame the wolves and use my separation as an excuse to break treaties. Any other mostly human villages are out also. Derek has some holdings to the south of here. I've picked out a small castle there. From my research there are humans and werewolves there in almost equal numbers. I want to perhaps study how they keep the peace."
Isaac nodded. "A noble pursuit."
Stiles stiffened when his door opened and Isaac's breath hitched. He turned to see Derek, eyes red and his control hanging on by an inch. He waited as Derek studied him before glancing at Isaac. His voice was thick and guttural.
"Leave."
Isaac risked bodily harm when he turned to Stiles and waited for his nod before he left the room.
The door was barely closed before Derek was next to him, looming over him from where Stiles sat on the bed. Stiles slid over on the bed and got up. If they were going to do this, then he would do it standing.
"What you did." Stiles waited while Derek seemed like he was trying to control himself. "What you did no one has ever done! You do not tell me that our marriage is over. You do not have your tattoo removed and then expect me to do nothing. What is wrong with you?"
Stiles blinked at him. He cleared his throat. "What's wrong with me? You were there for my speech, were you not? In case you missed what I was saying, let me repeat it. I am not your doormat. You have shown me zero respect. You couldn't even be bothered to fake it in public! You moan and growl about having to marry me. Did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to marry you? But I did, and I didn't go around letting people know how much I hated you and hated that you were a werewolf; an animal that pretends to be a man."
Stiles saw Derek's hand curl into a fist. His heartbeat sped up and he knew Derek could hear it but he kept talking. He'd been quiet too long.
"Do you want to hit me for pointing out the truth? Did you ever think your lack of respect made my life a lot harder than it ever had to be? If you'd been the least bit decent, then others would have never approached me and questioned my honor."
He laughed. "Does it surprise you that I have some? That the weak human didn't take any of the offers sneered at him as if they were favors? I grew up hearing how werewolves were decent, loyal, and honorable. From my time here I have only seen these traits a few times. Mostly, it has been the opposite."
Stiles stepped closer, the cloth from his shirt brushing against Derek's chest.
"Especially from you."
Stiles' back hit the door so hard he felt his new wound open back up. The hand wrapped around his throat had him grabbing Derek's hand and trying to loosen it. When that didn't work he stared at Derek's snarling face and managed to croak out, "Prove me right!"
He was let go so quickly he fell onto the floor where he tried to get enough air into his lungs while Derek was on the other side of the room staring out the one window Stiles had.
He coughed a few times and flinched when Derek was suddenly in front of him with a cup of water. Stiles accepted it and sipped carefully hoping the cold water would help.
Derek's voice was quiet and tinged with anger. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
Stiles knew his mouth was hanging open. He closed it as Derek held out a hand. Stiles took it carefully and used it to help him stand. Then he let it go. He still didn't trust his voice. Fortunately Derek wasn't done.
"You're right. About all of it. It doesn't matter that I was forced by my council to marry a human. I should have never treated you like I did, and I have no excuse."
Derek opened his mouth a few times while Stiles watched his struggle but offered no help. He was surprised Derek had said this much, but it didn't really change much. Finally Derek spoke.
"I heard you tell Isaac where you were going. Take anything you need. Please let me know when you arrive." He headed for the door but paused with his hand on the handle. "I know you don't want this, but you're still my mate. You're still my consort." He turned and met Stiles' eyes. "And I never considered you to be a whore."
He flashed a smile that Stiles had never seen. It screamed cocky determination with the will to back it up. "In a few days anyone who dishonored you will be dealt with." He gave Stiles a quick head nod and murmured, "Prince Consort Hale."
Stiles' eyes widened. No one ever referred to him by his title. He nodded at the acknowledgement and watched his King leave.
Stiles had trying times ahead of him but after the past year, he figured he could face pretty much anything. He couldn’t wait to find out.
End
A/N:I blame this on having read way too many historical romances in my past. I always wanted the female to leave the asshole who treats her like shit for most of the book to only be forgiven over and over.
One of my tags was almost 'Stiles is a Beyonce Song' but when I started to try and figure out which one, I realized it was time to just post the story.
Genre: Teen Wolf
Rating: R
Spoilers: No
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Genre: Historical Medieval AU. Werewolves are known
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money being made
Summary: "I agreed to be your mate. I agreed to be your consort. I never agreed to be your whore."
Stiles walked slowly into the throne room. That wasn't its real name and the room did not contain a throne, but it was the room the King used when attending to royal business. He didn't stop walking as the others in the room stopped talking to watch him. After a year he was used to the looks, from the werewolves and the few humans that lived here.
He'd thought he'd find a few friends in those humans when he'd first arrived, but he'd been quickly disabused of that notion. He had only a few friends and none of them were human.
His husband, King Hale, watched as Stiles paused before the chair where he sat conversing with his friends and council members.
"Derek."
"Stiles."
Stiles refused to babble at his husband's frown and growled out response. He tightened one of his hands into a fist before relaxing it.
"I need to speak with you." He did not ask, but it was less of a demand than he'd wanted it to be.
Derek's eyes inspected him from head to toe and Stiles ignored the disappointment in his gaze. It was always there so why let it bother him anymore?
Derek's reply was expected.
"Have my steward find you a time when I'm not busy."
Derek turned to continue his conversation. Normally, Stiles would have gathered his remaining dignity and left, but not this time.
He stepped closer and pulled out a handkerchief. He dropped it in Derek's lap and waited. He knew everyone was watching while the wolves in the room could smell the blood. Derek frowned but picked up the white silk and unfolded it. Inside lay a patch of skin about one inch wide and two inches tall.
The tattooed ‘H’ that signified Stiles as a member of the royal family was inscribed on the skin. Derek's growl made everyone freeze. Stiles stepped closer. His voice was quiet but determined.
"Don't bother to try and find out who helped me remove it. I made all my servants rinse their hands in a solution."
Stiles had planned to leave it at that. Werewolves loved symbolism and everyone in the room knew what the removal of his tattoo meant. But he had months of anger built up so he tried to keep his voice steady as he let some of it out.
"Do you remember what you told me after we were married? I asked you why you chose me out of all the humans that volunteered to be considered as a choice for you." Stiles swallowed.
"You told me I smelled like anxiety, curiosity, and terror. You said I was scared, but I didn't show it as much as the others."
Stiles clenched his jaw though he wanted to shout.
"I agreed to be your mate. I agreed to be your consort. I never agreed to be your whore."
Derek's growl made him take a step back but he stopped, refusing to try and cajole or apologize. After a year he knew the tone of Derek's growls and this one was fury and a demand for an explanation.
"The Ambassador from Mathot propositioned me. It was a rather rude proposition but he wasn't the first." Stiles let his gaze find a few of the people in the room. He smirked as the guilty parties avoided his eyes. He turned to see Derek looking at the same people. Stiles continued.
"As I said, he wasn't the first but I decided he was going to be the last. You have ranted about your disgust with having to marry a human quite loudly and frequently. I never thought we'd fall in love, but I did think we could come to some sort of compromise and perhaps work together to do what you married me for; smooth the way for humans and werewolves to learn to live, if not together, at least in a way where both could thrive."
Stiles shook his head. "Every idea I had, you shot down. Often publicly. Every suggestion I had, you refused. You were not shy about trying to intimidate me into silence. And it worked. I approached you less and less. I became...ashamed of being a human." Stiles clenched his hands together.
"After the Ambassador's insult I looked at myself in the mirror and I couldn't even recognize the person in the reflection. I'm leaving before you grind me into dust." Stiles laughed.
"That was a little dramatic but I think you get it. Obviously, I can't go home but I will find some place away from here."
Stiles smiled and while it was not his usual smile he felt like his old self was still somewhere inside him.
He bowed and murmured, "King Hale," before he turned and walked out. With each step, something seemed to lift off his shoulders and he felt lighter than he had since stepping in this castle, attached to a man that hated him. He knew that this wasn't the end. Soon, Derek would find him and demand this and demand that, but Stiles was done acquiescing to anything Derek desired.
Back in his rooms, Isaac was waiting. He'd gotten most of Stiles' things packed and out of all that had happened to Stiles he could not regret finding the few friends he did have, wolves that didn't follow the King's trend of dismissing Stiles as weak and worthless and most offensive of all, human.
Isaac gave him a small smile. "How's your back? Is it still bleeding?"
"No. Thank you for asking."
Stiles was careful with his words. Derek would probably figure out that Isaac was the one that had removed his tattoo, but Stiles would not say anything out loud. Werewolves had great hearing and there was always someone ready to listen and report back.
Isaac nodded and clasped his hands behind his back. "Where are we going?"
Stiles sat on his bed. "We?"
Isaac smiled. "Did you think you were going alone? You are still Derek's mate and consort until he says so though I do appreciate you first volley." He gestured at a corner of the room where bags that were not Stiles' lay.
"Erica and I are traveling with you. We have a few others that we trust and they'll be coming too."
Stiles sighed and grabbed a book. He'd spent so much time in the library, he refused to feel guilty for deciding to take a few tomes with him. "I can't go home. Even if I declare loudly and publicly that this was my decision, there are those that will blame the wolves and use my separation as an excuse to break treaties. Any other mostly human villages are out also. Derek has some holdings to the south of here. I've picked out a small castle there. From my research there are humans and werewolves there in almost equal numbers. I want to perhaps study how they keep the peace."
Isaac nodded. "A noble pursuit."
Stiles stiffened when his door opened and Isaac's breath hitched. He turned to see Derek, eyes red and his control hanging on by an inch. He waited as Derek studied him before glancing at Isaac. His voice was thick and guttural.
"Leave."
Isaac risked bodily harm when he turned to Stiles and waited for his nod before he left the room.
The door was barely closed before Derek was next to him, looming over him from where Stiles sat on the bed. Stiles slid over on the bed and got up. If they were going to do this, then he would do it standing.
"What you did." Stiles waited while Derek seemed like he was trying to control himself. "What you did no one has ever done! You do not tell me that our marriage is over. You do not have your tattoo removed and then expect me to do nothing. What is wrong with you?"
Stiles blinked at him. He cleared his throat. "What's wrong with me? You were there for my speech, were you not? In case you missed what I was saying, let me repeat it. I am not your doormat. You have shown me zero respect. You couldn't even be bothered to fake it in public! You moan and growl about having to marry me. Did it ever occur to you that I didn't want to marry you? But I did, and I didn't go around letting people know how much I hated you and hated that you were a werewolf; an animal that pretends to be a man."
Stiles saw Derek's hand curl into a fist. His heartbeat sped up and he knew Derek could hear it but he kept talking. He'd been quiet too long.
"Do you want to hit me for pointing out the truth? Did you ever think your lack of respect made my life a lot harder than it ever had to be? If you'd been the least bit decent, then others would have never approached me and questioned my honor."
He laughed. "Does it surprise you that I have some? That the weak human didn't take any of the offers sneered at him as if they were favors? I grew up hearing how werewolves were decent, loyal, and honorable. From my time here I have only seen these traits a few times. Mostly, it has been the opposite."
Stiles stepped closer, the cloth from his shirt brushing against Derek's chest.
"Especially from you."
Stiles' back hit the door so hard he felt his new wound open back up. The hand wrapped around his throat had him grabbing Derek's hand and trying to loosen it. When that didn't work he stared at Derek's snarling face and managed to croak out, "Prove me right!"
He was let go so quickly he fell onto the floor where he tried to get enough air into his lungs while Derek was on the other side of the room staring out the one window Stiles had.
He coughed a few times and flinched when Derek was suddenly in front of him with a cup of water. Stiles accepted it and sipped carefully hoping the cold water would help.
Derek's voice was quiet and tinged with anger. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
Stiles knew his mouth was hanging open. He closed it as Derek held out a hand. Stiles took it carefully and used it to help him stand. Then he let it go. He still didn't trust his voice. Fortunately Derek wasn't done.
"You're right. About all of it. It doesn't matter that I was forced by my council to marry a human. I should have never treated you like I did, and I have no excuse."
Derek opened his mouth a few times while Stiles watched his struggle but offered no help. He was surprised Derek had said this much, but it didn't really change much. Finally Derek spoke.
"I heard you tell Isaac where you were going. Take anything you need. Please let me know when you arrive." He headed for the door but paused with his hand on the handle. "I know you don't want this, but you're still my mate. You're still my consort." He turned and met Stiles' eyes. "And I never considered you to be a whore."
He flashed a smile that Stiles had never seen. It screamed cocky determination with the will to back it up. "In a few days anyone who dishonored you will be dealt with." He gave Stiles a quick head nod and murmured, "Prince Consort Hale."
Stiles' eyes widened. No one ever referred to him by his title. He nodded at the acknowledgement and watched his King leave.
Stiles had trying times ahead of him but after the past year, he figured he could face pretty much anything. He couldn’t wait to find out.
End
A/N:I blame this on having read way too many historical romances in my past. I always wanted the female to leave the asshole who treats her like shit for most of the book to only be forgiven over and over.
One of my tags was almost 'Stiles is a Beyonce Song' but when I started to try and figure out which one, I realized it was time to just post the story.