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till the moon has taken flight (to the waters and the wild)

Chapter Text

Then...

***

Once upon a time, the Queen had a King.

Once upon a myth, Winter was soft and playful.

Once upon a secret, the Queen's General was thrown in the dungeons.

*

It's all he can think about. (is he even thinking?)

He, if there is such a thing anymore, floats and is torn apart and doesn't exist. (but that would be kind, wouldn't it?)

What he was is pain. What he was is nothing. What he was is loyal.

********

Now.

***

Peter's walking in the preserve because Talia's having "Alpha Lessons" and he's so very angry and bitter that he can't learn whatever it is Talia is being taught. You're not Alpha Heir, Peter, why would you need to learn?

Well, maybe he'd want to know so he could backup his sister. Maybe he wants to be Alpha one day. Maybe he wants a pack of his own. Maybe he wants people who would see just him and not the accidental, fall-of-his-parents'-lives baby everyone else from packmates to visitors sees. And what if Talia dies? What then?

It's not fair! But he knows already that life isn't fair, doesn't he? He can feel the bitter smile curling his lips. Life has never been fair to him, always an afterthought. Always an "oh, what are we going to do with you?". His eyes prickle but he refuses to cry, has refused ever since Babuška died. It's not like it helps in anything.

He walks and walks until he starts shivering and then he turns home.

(the next morning the ground is white  with the first snow in years)

Chapter Text

Then...

***

Once upon a dream, the Queen had looked at him, cold and distant and dismissive.

Once upon a rebellion, the Queen had been gone.

Once upon a failure, he'd been thrown in the dungeons, the King's voice claiming eternity.

*

Not-him not-thinks "I would do nothing different".

Not-him not-wonders how long it's been in the Faery.

Not-him not-sees not-light.

**************

Now.

***

He'd grown to hide the pain, had grown to brush off the casual cruelty of his family. What did it matter if Talia treated him like one of her pups, when he was about to leave for college? What did it matter that Laura had picked up on her mother's condescension and started trying to order him around, when he wouldn't need to ever follow her?

What did all the pain matter when he knew he would do anything to keep them alive?

*

College was... fun, he supposed. The people didn't know him or accuse him of trying to manipulate them, except sometimes when he was obvious about it and even then they laughed, not with derision but something more joyful, while calling him out.

New York was also significantly different compared to sleepy Beacon Hills. He loved it. Loved the crush of people that didn't know him. Loved that there were actual seasons.  Loved that nobody cared that he was the "accidental Hale" if they even knew. Loved, especially, that none of the Alphas in the city tried to get to Talia through him because, well, what did they care about a pack on the other side of the country even if it was old for Westerners?

(in his last year he meets gloria of the amber eyes and playful smirks)

Chapter Text

Then...

***

The stories tell of a rebellion, a rebellion of the Traitor.

The stories tell of a General imprisoned and forgotten.

The stories tell of the Queen's Wrath and how the General had been Executioner.

*

The War turned Winter cold and ruthless.

The War killed everyone but those Blizzard at heart.

The War took a toll on Noble and peasant alike.

********

Now.

***

After New York, Beacon Hills bores him out of his skull. He misses Gloria. Misses the mischief and chaos that had seemed to follow her like a lost puppy. Misses the pranks they'd pull on Peter's friends and each other.

Misses, he supposes, the hope that maybe he'd have a happy life. But Gloria was like the wind or a storm, something that couldn't be held down. Something that swept you away with it and left you changed at the end. No, not wind or storm. They were too kind. More like a hurricane that ripped you from your roots and deposited you somewhere completely new and completely changed, and you just had to deal with the consequences.

Beacon Hills held nothing but pain and duty and being taken for granted (and boredom. so much boredom.) but he can't leave. His pack needs him and as much as it hurts, he does love them all. Loves Talia even when she doesn't listen to him. Loves his mother even when she looks at him like he's a disappointment. Loves his father even when he tells him that he doesn't know what to do with Peter. Loves Laura and Derek and Cora, loves all of his pack even when they condescend, when they take everything he says with more than a grain of salt, even when they've never really treated him as pack.

Loves them no matter how it tears at him on the inside.

(he keeps the memory of gloria's voice fondly calling him darling close and guarded)

Chapter Text

Then...

***

Once upon a whisper, Winter changed irreversibly.

Once upon a rumour, Spring, Summer and Fall were ignorant.

Once upon a gossip, the Northern Winds sang of a Lone Ruler on a Frozen Throne.

*

It's been a few millennia since the War.

He's bored. So very, very bored.

And a bored Fae is a dangerous Fae.

********

Now.

***

When Peter gets to the house, it's to find Talia freaking out in that quiet, no-one-can-know way she learnt from their father. He doesn't even get a word out before Talia is dragging him away and locking them in her office. He just raises a brow and crosses his arms at her even more blatant than normal lack of manners.

She paces back and forth for a few moments before turning to him and hissing, with something almost like accusation in her eyes, "There are Fae in the forest."

His eyes widen. He hadn't expected that. No-one had seen Fae in the States since the beginning of the 1700s. (though if the fae live as long as the legends say that wouldn't be all that long for them)

"Are you sure?" He blurts out before he can think about it and Talia's reaction is predictable.

"AM I SURE?!" She screeches and then immediately afterwards, calm and regretful, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout but yes, I'm sure."

Well then. Maybe Beacon Hills wasn't so boring after all.

"Do you know which Court they're from?" There's an opportunity here, he knows. An opportunity for knowledge and maybe, if they are very lucky, an alliance.

Talia slumps in her chair. "No, we don't. There have only been a handful of sightings and of those it was only the last one where more than movement in the shadows was seen."

(he hears giggles like silver bells when he walks the preserve trying to wrap his mind around the idea of fae in hale territory)