Fic: In these confines, Teen Wolf, Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Title: In these confines
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1177
Summary: Chris watches as the wolves are brought in, shackled and chained, collars around their throats like they're nothing more than dogs.
In these confines
Chris watches as the wolves are brought in, shackled and chained, collars around their throats like they're nothing more than dogs.
There's a lot of jeering in the hall, but it doesn't surprise Chris. The war has been going on for far too long, and too many people have lost family to it. So to see the Hales finally brought down. Well; Chris doesn't blame everyone for wanting to be there.
Talia Hale stands like a queen as she steps forward. And Chris can absolutely understand why she is the alpha the wolves chose to follow. Even dressed in patched-up, dirty clothes, with thick chains around her ankles and wrists, she still commands the room. But it's not Talia Chris is there to see, not Talia his gaze slides to.
Peter Hale stands to his sister's side, a snarl across his lips and bruises blooming on every patch of skin that Chris can see. The wolves have all been dosed with wolfsbane, and Chris can see the trembling running through Peter, the way he's favouring one leg over the other. He can see the way that the only thing keeping Peter Hale on his feet is the damn stubbornness Chris knows runs through him.
Out of all the wolves, it would appear that Peter has taken the brunt of the guards' anger, but Chris isn't surprised. Of all of the people in chains in front of him, the one who has caused the most damage, who has spilled the most blood, is Peter. Because if Talia is the queen of their self-styled revolution, then Peter is her general. And where Talia is careful and precise, Peter is brutal and ruthless.
There are too many stories of attacks with entire garrisons destroyed, of wolves that ripped through defences like they were paper. Too many stories with Peter at the head of it all.
Chris only realises he's been staring when Peter meets his gaze, bright blue bleeding into the wolf's eyes as a vocal growl comes from him. The guard nearest to Peter shoves him with a baton, telling him to be quiet, and an amused chuckle rumbles through the crowd. Peter snaps off the growl as he turns and surveys the people there, his sharp gaze easily picking out those who had laughed. And Chris almost feels sorry for them, knows that, in Peter's mind, their card is already marked.
The crowd falls silent as Gerard stands from his position, seated on the raised dais. Chris knows his father is milking this moment, milking being the one to bring the Hales to their knees. Gerard stops in front of Talia, stops and waits for the utter silence to spread before making his declaration. Execution. No mercy to be shown for any of them.
Much like you animals have shown us, Gerard all but spits in Talia's face.
And Chris knows her lack of reaction is infuriating Gerard. Gerard wants Talia to crack, to break down. Wants her to show everyone that he was right in starting this war against the monsters that walked among them.
You first, he tells her. Let your precious pack see their alpha destroyed. And then the rest of you, he declares, his eyes skimming over the wolves until his gaze rests on Peter. And you, we'll keep for last. You can have the pleasure of watching us slice open each one of them, before we put you down like the dog you are.
Gerard steps away once he's given his decree, the words telling the guards to take the prisoners back to their cells almost drowned out by the approving cries of those there reverberating around the hall. Gerard waits while the Hales are taken away, waits before he turns to Chris and meets his son's eyes, before sweeping out of the hall.
And Chris wonders what other people see when they look. Wonders if they see a stern but loving father, raising his children to be warriors. Wonders if they see someone who is proud of their son, of the rank he holds and the way he's defended the people in this war. Wonders if they see anything but the truth.
Because the reason Gerard wants Peter to suffer has nothing to do with the losses Peter has caused their side. Has nothing to do with anything beyond the fact that Peter is the one that turned Chris' head so many years ago, that Peter is the shame Chris brought to the Argent name.
But Peter's not like the boy Chris met in the forest so many years ago, not any more. Not like the boy who laughed at Chris as he stumbled, who held out a hand to a young man on the ground and covered in mud. And he's not like the boy who stiffened in surprise as Chris kissed him, before relaxing into Chris' touch, before kissing Chris back.
It wasn't as if Chris hadn't known what he'd been risking every time he snuck out of the castle, every time he wrapped a cloak around himself and rode out of the stables under the cover of night. But he hadn't been able to help himself. Peter had consumed every thought, every desire Chris had. There was no one else in Chris' mind when he wrapped his fingers around hard flesh and spilled into his own touch, no sound in his head beyond the noises Peter made as Chris pushed into him.
There had been words, murmured into the darkness, murmured against sweat-slick skin. Words about overthrowing Gerard and ending the war. And then one night, Chris had ridden back, and his father had been waiting for him.
He'd told those who cared enough to ask that the split lip was from a training exercise gone wrong.
Gerard had Chris watched closely after that, too intent on making sure his son wasn't lost to the monster that tempted him. And now Gerard finally has the Hales, finally has them in chains. Can end the rebellion in his land by killing Talia, can end the rebellion in his home by killing Peter. Can take the head of the wolves and the heart of his son in two strikes of the sword.
It'll all be over by tomorrow, Gerard had told Chris, before the pack had been led in.
Only, Chris knows the jar of wolfsbane the guards have so studiously been adding to each meal, to all the water, was yesterday swapped out for something harmless. He knows Melissa picked and dried and ground up the black roses she so beautifully cultivated in the gardens.
He knows keys to each of the cells sit heavy in his pocket, copies for each and every door taken by John.
And he knows that the halls will run red tonight, with the howls of a dozen wolves, so easily brought inside of Gerard's most defended place.
We can end this, Christopher. And then there'll be nothing to keep us apart.
It'll all be over by tomorrow, Gerard had told Chris. He wasn't wrong.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1177
Summary: Chris watches as the wolves are brought in, shackled and chained, collars around their throats like they're nothing more than dogs.
In these confines
Chris watches as the wolves are brought in, shackled and chained, collars around their throats like they're nothing more than dogs.
There's a lot of jeering in the hall, but it doesn't surprise Chris. The war has been going on for far too long, and too many people have lost family to it. So to see the Hales finally brought down. Well; Chris doesn't blame everyone for wanting to be there.
Talia Hale stands like a queen as she steps forward. And Chris can absolutely understand why she is the alpha the wolves chose to follow. Even dressed in patched-up, dirty clothes, with thick chains around her ankles and wrists, she still commands the room. But it's not Talia Chris is there to see, not Talia his gaze slides to.
Peter Hale stands to his sister's side, a snarl across his lips and bruises blooming on every patch of skin that Chris can see. The wolves have all been dosed with wolfsbane, and Chris can see the trembling running through Peter, the way he's favouring one leg over the other. He can see the way that the only thing keeping Peter Hale on his feet is the damn stubbornness Chris knows runs through him.
Out of all the wolves, it would appear that Peter has taken the brunt of the guards' anger, but Chris isn't surprised. Of all of the people in chains in front of him, the one who has caused the most damage, who has spilled the most blood, is Peter. Because if Talia is the queen of their self-styled revolution, then Peter is her general. And where Talia is careful and precise, Peter is brutal and ruthless.
There are too many stories of attacks with entire garrisons destroyed, of wolves that ripped through defences like they were paper. Too many stories with Peter at the head of it all.
Chris only realises he's been staring when Peter meets his gaze, bright blue bleeding into the wolf's eyes as a vocal growl comes from him. The guard nearest to Peter shoves him with a baton, telling him to be quiet, and an amused chuckle rumbles through the crowd. Peter snaps off the growl as he turns and surveys the people there, his sharp gaze easily picking out those who had laughed. And Chris almost feels sorry for them, knows that, in Peter's mind, their card is already marked.
The crowd falls silent as Gerard stands from his position, seated on the raised dais. Chris knows his father is milking this moment, milking being the one to bring the Hales to their knees. Gerard stops in front of Talia, stops and waits for the utter silence to spread before making his declaration. Execution. No mercy to be shown for any of them.
Much like you animals have shown us, Gerard all but spits in Talia's face.
And Chris knows her lack of reaction is infuriating Gerard. Gerard wants Talia to crack, to break down. Wants her to show everyone that he was right in starting this war against the monsters that walked among them.
You first, he tells her. Let your precious pack see their alpha destroyed. And then the rest of you, he declares, his eyes skimming over the wolves until his gaze rests on Peter. And you, we'll keep for last. You can have the pleasure of watching us slice open each one of them, before we put you down like the dog you are.
Gerard steps away once he's given his decree, the words telling the guards to take the prisoners back to their cells almost drowned out by the approving cries of those there reverberating around the hall. Gerard waits while the Hales are taken away, waits before he turns to Chris and meets his son's eyes, before sweeping out of the hall.
And Chris wonders what other people see when they look. Wonders if they see a stern but loving father, raising his children to be warriors. Wonders if they see someone who is proud of their son, of the rank he holds and the way he's defended the people in this war. Wonders if they see anything but the truth.
Because the reason Gerard wants Peter to suffer has nothing to do with the losses Peter has caused their side. Has nothing to do with anything beyond the fact that Peter is the one that turned Chris' head so many years ago, that Peter is the shame Chris brought to the Argent name.
But Peter's not like the boy Chris met in the forest so many years ago, not any more. Not like the boy who laughed at Chris as he stumbled, who held out a hand to a young man on the ground and covered in mud. And he's not like the boy who stiffened in surprise as Chris kissed him, before relaxing into Chris' touch, before kissing Chris back.
It wasn't as if Chris hadn't known what he'd been risking every time he snuck out of the castle, every time he wrapped a cloak around himself and rode out of the stables under the cover of night. But he hadn't been able to help himself. Peter had consumed every thought, every desire Chris had. There was no one else in Chris' mind when he wrapped his fingers around hard flesh and spilled into his own touch, no sound in his head beyond the noises Peter made as Chris pushed into him.
There had been words, murmured into the darkness, murmured against sweat-slick skin. Words about overthrowing Gerard and ending the war. And then one night, Chris had ridden back, and his father had been waiting for him.
He'd told those who cared enough to ask that the split lip was from a training exercise gone wrong.
Gerard had Chris watched closely after that, too intent on making sure his son wasn't lost to the monster that tempted him. And now Gerard finally has the Hales, finally has them in chains. Can end the rebellion in his land by killing Talia, can end the rebellion in his home by killing Peter. Can take the head of the wolves and the heart of his son in two strikes of the sword.
It'll all be over by tomorrow, Gerard had told Chris, before the pack had been led in.
Only, Chris knows the jar of wolfsbane the guards have so studiously been adding to each meal, to all the water, was yesterday swapped out for something harmless. He knows Melissa picked and dried and ground up the black roses she so beautifully cultivated in the gardens.
He knows keys to each of the cells sit heavy in his pocket, copies for each and every door taken by John.
And he knows that the halls will run red tonight, with the howls of a dozen wolves, so easily brought inside of Gerard's most defended place.
We can end this, Christopher. And then there'll be nothing to keep us apart.
It'll all be over by tomorrow, Gerard had told Chris. He wasn't wrong.