#virtualdon

At the creak of his door Derek looked up from giving the day’s assignments and was mildly surprised to see Stiles slip in to the room. She stayed back, hugging the wall and ducked into the shadowed alcove just next to the entrance of his formal office.

“You have your assignments, leave me,” he said to the soldiers gathered around.

“Commander Hale…” one started and Derek glared at him. “Yes, sir.”

The small group of soldiers walked out, filing past Stiles. If they saw her they didn’t speak up or greet her. It was a somewhat poorly kept secret that Lord McCall’s Right Hand and Lord Stilinski’s daughter were engaged in some sort of informal courting. His troops were very loyal and said nothing.

When they were alone Derek moved to the door and dropped the heavy latch so they wouldn’t be disturbed. He did not think the Lady Stilinski’s arrival meant good things for him. She didn’t not seek him out publically unless it was on Lord McCall’s insistence or she was mad at him. He was right.

She stormed over to him and slammed her hands against his armored breastplate. “You put in a formal request for my hand!”

“Yes,” he said cautiously, confused by her anger.

“You had Scott sponsor you!” Again, she beat against his chest with her fists.

“Who else would I ask?”

“Me!” He grabbed her wrists before she could hit him again. “You should have asked me instead of sending a letter to my father and having him tell me you wished for my hand.”

“You know that is not how things are done,” he pointed out as he held her tightly while she struggled against his hold.

“It’s how they should be done! It’s not my father’s choice whether I can marry or not because a man might be ‘unworthy’. It’s a ridiculous, demeaning tradition!”

“Did he say no?”

“Of course he didn’t…”

He didn’t let her get further, yanked her tightly against him, and kissed her deeply. For the past two years he had been waiting for her father to put her hand up for marriage. He had written the letter one night when he couldn’t sleep for wanting her. He had a formal sponsor, he was a respected Commander in the court and he knew the Lord Stilinski approved of him. Of course he was first to send a request. He would not have anyone take her out from under him, no matter how much she protested.

“I should get to choose,” she said stubbornly when he pulled back from the kiss, resting her forehead against his.

“Would you choose anyone else?”

The blow to his chest was more playful than it was angry and it made him laugh softly. There were very few things he was certain of in life and one of them was her. This time he let her slip away from him and pace in front of his desk.

“You should have told me you were writing him. When he came to me and said it was time for me to be wed I expected your next letter to say something but it was just another letter, like the hundreds we’ve exchanged. I thought…”

She stopped and leaned against the desk, rattling the ink well and shifting the papers. His lady was confidence and boundless energy but he knew it hid her heart, kept her from getting hurt by the world around her where her voice was very often her father’s instead of her own because of tradition.

He closed the distance between them and tenderly ran his finger down her cheek. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

She shrugged, looking down at her hands where her fingers twisted together nervously. He put one under her chin and tipped her head up to look at him. “You are a fool.”

This kiss was gentler but no less deep, no less genuine. She clutched at the fur collar of his cape and drew him in to stand between her legs, the desk rattling again as his knees knocked into it. He drew back from her, looking at the typical clutter of his work.

With a growl he pushed it all off onto the floor with a single sweep of his arm and pushed her down against the cleared flat surface, one knee on the desk next to her hip. They did not stop kissing for hours after.

--

The nightmare was foggy, a mix of memories of smoke, the crackle of fire, and the panicked screams of servants, soldiers and family all mixing to a chaotic sense of dread in his mind. He woke with a start as a gentle, cool hand touched his brow, brushing his bangs back from his temple.

“Stiles?” he asked softly, looking up at her.

She sat on the edge of the bed next to him, her hair down and dressed only in his shirt. She smiled softly at him, the worry clear in her golden eyes. “That didn’t sound pleasant.”

“Dreams of my family’s betrayal come and go,” he said, allowing his eyes to close again as she smoothed her chilly fingers through his hair. “Your father will be upset you’re using magic again.”

She snorted, a very un-lady like sound. “Yes, that’s the part of this my father will be upset about.”

That is actually a very true statement. He should not have taken her to bed before they were wed but he did not regret the choice at all. He knew she didn’t either. They had jeopardized his formal marriage request. If they were caught, someone discovered what they had done together, it might keep them from getting married.

He pushed himself up on one arm as he tugged her hand away. She leaned down, clearly intent on kissing him but he rested his forehead against hers. “I have never felt this way about anyone,” he said softly and that was the truth. She had his heart, his being, all that he could give her.

She laughed at him, her voice warm and soft. “I love you.”

He knew that, of course he knew that, but to hear it made his heart clench tightly in his chest and he let out a little breath. “I love you too.”

The blow to his shoulder was completely unexpected and he jerked back in surprise, scowling at her. “What was that for?”

“You waited two years to tell me!”