#jilrene

The forest was always a loud symphony of life, but it grew quieter as Peter followed a trail of blooming Bolander’s Lilies. His grandmother had shown him Bolander’s Lily the night before as she read from their book of flowers until he fell asleep. Peter had been so excited to see the rare and beautiful flower and his small feet carried him deep into the whispering trees. With his arms full of lillies Peter started hearing soft humming; he was immediately nervous and yet he also felt himself drawn to the sweet melody.

He soon found himself standing outside a circle of candles and flowers he’d never seen before, not even in his books. Peter had been so focused on the wonderful new flowers he could give his grandmother he hadn’t realized the source of the soothing melody was watching him.

“Hello little one.”

Peter flinched. He hadn’t meant to get so distracted by the wonderful flowers in front of him, good boys always paid attention to their surroundings. He looked up at the speaker shyly, scared he was about to be reprimanded.

“What brings you out here, precious?” The man speaking to him had pale skin and bright burning amber eyes.

“My Abuelita likes flowers. Yours are pretty.” Peter replied nervously, still waiting for the punishment he knew was coming.

“We all enjoy the delights of flora don’t we? Would you care to give me your name darling boy?” The man now wore a smirk Peter had only seen on his Uncle Michael right before he did something bad.

The question sent up a flag of warning though. His grandmother had always told him to never give someone his name. All those nights sitting on the floor at her feet as she told the family the warning signs of a trickster fae and it still took Peter a while to recognize the slightly pointed ears, the too sharp teeth, the slight glow about him, the ring of plants he was in. Peter was going to get in so much trouble.

He shook his head to signal that no, he was not going to give this fae his name.

“Ah yes, ‘Stranger Danger’ as the humans these days call it. If you give me your name we won’t be strangers. Here, I’ll start. You can call me Stiles.” The fae gave him a wide smile.

Peter shook his head again and mumbled a quiet, “I know what you are mister.”

The fae’s eyes flashed a bright gold as he squatted to eye level with Peter, “You know what I am? How peculiar. Was it your Abuelita that told you about me and mine?”

Peter made the motion of putting a key in his mouth, locking it, and throwing it over his shoulder.

The fae laughed a bright happy laugh that made Peter think about the warm summer days he’d swing on the porch with his grandmother.

“Fair enough little one. If I cannot have your name I will think of one to call you instead. Come here and let me get a look at you.” The fae’s smile was welcoming and Peter felt himself take a step forward before his brain caught up and reminded him that once inside a faerie ring they will never let you out.

Peter shook his head again.

The fae laughed once more and looked at Peter with something like fondness in his burning eyes.

“Clever boy. You can stay there then.”

The fae’s eyes flashed again as he looked over Peter, who was feeling like he should’ve ran away a long time ago.

“Ah that’s unfortunate.” The fae tapped his index finger over his lips as he hummed.

“It seems your new name will be Ash Prince.” Something in the man’s voice seemed both sad and yet also pleased.

Peter opened his mouth to ask why that was his name, but between one blink and the next he found himself sitting in his bed surrounded by a small ring of beautiful and unique flowers, that definitely didn’t belong in this realm.

If he kept them for himself, no one had to know.

-

Peter continued to see Stiles throughout the years. He tried to stay away, to not purposefully seek the fae out, yet he always found himself just outside that ring of luminescent flowers. Stiles’ humming floating around on the breeze until it wound its way around Peter no matter where the boy was.

“Where are you going, mi corazón?” Peter’s grandmother’s soft voice found him from her place on the porch swing.

“Hello Abuelita.” Peter smiled at her as he altered his path to take him to his grandmother.

He settled in to swing quietly with her and watch the sunset, but unfortunately she was looking at him with a glint in her eyes that spelled trouble.

Peter knew better than to speak first and give her an opening, so he got more comfortable and let himself enjoy the gentle swinging as she stared at him.

“I know where you go when you think we aren’t watching.”

Peter smiled softly at her and continued to wait her out, he knew his grandmother and there was no way she was finished.

“I know they don’t see, but you should know that I do. And I hear mi corazon.” She lifted an eyebrow at him as if daring him to argue.

He would not.

“What do you hear Abuelita?” Peter asked quietly.

“I hear the death knell that rings each time you step into that forest. I hear the dirges that play each time you go beyond our reach. I hear our family’s lament each time you meet with that fae in the woods.” She gently held his face between her hands, “And I hear the love songs he sends you each time you feel alone.”

Peter didn’t know what to say. She was right. He knew meeting Stiles was wrong. He knew that with each visit he got closer and closer to that ring, to telling the fae his true name. Stiles was slippery yet dazzling, devilish yet charming, doom yet peace. Stiles was enchanting and Peter was lost in his spell.

His grandmother must have seen the turmoil on his face, because she ran a soothing hand down his arm and sighed, “I know my darling boy. You are only fifteen, and he has had you for nearly ten years already. Be strong mi amor.”

Peter nodded, tears welling in his eyes, and words stuck in his throat.

“He will come for you one day.” she leaned forward to place a kiss on his forehead before continuing as if she could speak directly into his mind, past the melody still calling him into the woods, “Remember your family. Remember my teachings. Remember who you are.”

Each sentence ended with a kiss until finally she sighed and leaned back into her space.

“Go to him mi corazón. He is waiting.”

Peter took her dismissal for what it was and kissed her head before he headed into the ever darkening forest.

-

“Stay with me awhile longer my beautiful Ash Prince.” Stiles was looking at him with earnest amber eyes.

“I cannot. You know I cannot.” Peter sighed.

Stiles huffed once before turning a sad little pout Peter’s direction, “What if I gave you more flowers?”

Suddenly Peter was surrounded by his favorite of the flowers Stiles had shown him.

“What if I gave you books?”

The flowers disappeared, only to quickly be replaced by great big chests filled with every book Peter could ever wish to read.

“What if I gave you nothing at all other then all of my attention for the rest of your life?”

The chests disappeared and all that was left was Stiles, hovering above the ring of flora so that he could lay on his stomach and yet still be eye level with Peter.

The human rolled his eyes fondly.

“You are sly and quick Stiles. I can never let my guard down with you. One wrong word and I’m just another brainless human slave.” Stiles opened his mouth to protest but Peter continued, “The fun is in the fact that I will not submit. I am too smart to fall into your beautiful deadly traps and you like a challenge.”

Stiles righted himself so that he could stomp his foot while he crossed his arms and frowned like  child.

Fourteen years they’d played this game. Fourteen years of Stiles trying to swindle Peter’s name out of him. Fourteen years of almost stepping past the ring of flora when he relaxed too much around the trickster.

Peter was turning eighteen soon which meant college was on the horizon. College, a job, a life of his own was waiting for Peter outside of these comforting woods,and of the loving home he’d grown up in. He could not keep Stiles. He could not continue the wonderful back and forth banter they had together. It was time for Peter to grow up.

“I leave tonight and I will not return.” the finality in his voice was a shock to both human and fae.

Stiles tried to call for Peter as the man walked away, but he would not return.

-

Peter returned to Beacon Hills the summer after his freshman year of college. He felt like a new man. He felt changed in a way that made him embarrassed to talk about. Somehow he felt both more mature and incredibly immature all at once. It had only been a year and yet for better or for worse,  Peter was different.

All summer he heard Stiles’ songs. All summer he ignored them. He was done playing games with the fae and he would not let himself act on the temptation. As the weeks passed the melodies became increasingly chaotic, like he was trying to tell Peter something with his songs because the man would not go to him.

Peter ignored the warnings.

As he laid burning, listening to the screams of his family around him Peter wished more than anything in the world that Stiles would come save them.

“I’m here my sweet Ash Prince. What do you ask of me?” Stiles voice washed over Peter’s burning body, making the dying boy smile.

“Save them. Please Stiles.” The words were a croak on the ash filled air.

“If you’ll give me your name darling boy. I’ll never let anything hurt you again.” Stiles words brought him back to that warm summer day when he was surrounded by his favorite flower and meeting an interesting stranger for the first time.

“My name is Peter Lobo Hale. Save my family Stiles.”

-

Peter woke up in a beautiful green forest in a country he did not know.

“Where are we today my love?”

Stiles smiled brightly at him and gestured to the trees around, “Welcome to the Black Forest!”

“And why are we here?” Peter asked, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk that showed a bit of fang.

“All apart of your introduction to the wonderful world around you darling!” Stiles’ joy made the male glow like a small star.

Peter would never tire of basking in the warmth Stiles spread with each grin, cheer, and exaltation of ecstasy.