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celestialvoid-fanfiction · 6 years

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The Flower That Blooms in Adversity - Chapter Six

Derek sat on the small chair by the couch, leaning forward as he rested his head in his hands.

The thundering boom announced her presence as Allison stepped forward, her eyes darkened with sorrow and her expression twisted by fear and pity. She drew in short breaths, trying to fight her tears. “His father…”

“It’s okay,” Derek said quietly. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”

Stiles straightened, looking from Allison to Derek. “What’s going on?”

Allison swallowed hard. “Your father has waged war against the Underworld.”

Stiles’ eyes flew open wide. “What?” he gasped. “No, he can’t…”

“He can,” Derek said quietly. “And he has.”

He rose from his seat, slowly walking towards the door.

“You’re going to fight him?” Stiles rasped, torn between the two.

“No,” Derek admitted. “I take full responsibility for the decisions that have led to this. I go willingly, alone, and without resistance.”

“You can’t,” Stiles started, fighting back tears.

“I must,” Derek replied.

“No,” Stiles muttered, shaking his head. “No, no, no.”

He met Stiles’ gaze, his aventurine eyes swirling with emotion as he said, “I am willing to die if it means that you are safe.”

He didn’t grab his cape, nor draw the shadows into armour. He wore only his clothes as the large doors opened and he made his way through the dark tunnel. He held his head high, ignoring the sound of Stiles’ cries as they trailed through the shadows, crying out for him.

Tears of rage fell down Stiles’ cheeks. He staggered to his feet, stumbling over to the fire side. He reached for the small plant that grew there, plucking the red and green apple that hung from the branch. He lifted himself onto his feet, his legs pedalling beneath him as he ran for the tunnel. He collapsed against the cavern walls, the damp earth soaking his shirt. The soft cotton clung to his frail body as he forced himself to keep going, his ankle throbbing in protest. He grimaced, tears streaking down his cheeks as he pushed himself further.

He knew Derek wouldn’t offer a fight; he had to get there before his father killed him.

He dug his bare feet into the earth, forcing himself to sprint as he ran through the seemingly endless darkness. He stumbled and fell to the ground, his hands and knees sinking into the mud. He pushed himself upright, grabbing the apple as he ran.

A glimpse of light broke through the darkness as he sprinted out into the light of day.

Heavy grey clouds filled the sky, rain crashing against the earth and soaking him through. The winds lashed at him as he staggered forward, squinting against the pouring rain. He could make out a lone figure standing at the edge of a field of wheat, showing no resistance to the army that charged towards him.

“Derek,” Stiles gasped.

He pushed himself away from the craggy bluffs of the mountain face, running into the open field. He stumbled past Derek, ignoring the man’s protests as he stood defiantly between Derek and his father’s army.

Stiles slid to a stop, standing tall as the wave of armed forces raced towards him. Horses’ hooves thumped the earth, the pounding beat rolling through Stiles as he stood still.

His heart hammered against his ribs as he kept his gaze focused on the figure at the front; his father.

The advancing army slowed to a halt as John’s eyes fell on his son.

Stiles tightened his grip on the apple, lifting it towards his mouth.

“Stiles, no!” Derek screamed, sprinting towards him.

But he was too slow.

Stiles bit into the apple, letting the bitter juice flood his mouth, the crunchy flesh falling against his tongue.

Derek stumbled to a halt, stopping as he stared at the boy, his eyes wide with shock.

Stiles’ father stepped forward, his face mirroring Derek’s confusion.

“Stiles,” he said, struggling to find his voice. “Why would you…?”

“I’ve made my choice,” Stiles said.

“Stiles, you have no idea what you’ve just done,” Derek rasped.

“I grew this apple myself,” Stiles pointed out. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m putting an end to all of this.” He turned to face his father. “I know you’re trying to protect me, I know you feel bad about what happened to mum, but none of that is Derek’s fault. He has done nothing but protect me. He saved my life.”

John shook his head and muttered, “You’re as stubborn as your mother.”

“I prefer ‘defiant’,” Stiles replied with a smile.

There was a thundering boom as Chris appeared, sparks of electricity dancing over him.

“Argent, please, tell me there’s some way to undo this,” Derek pleaded.

Chris shook his head. “I’m sorry, but the rules are the rules. Stiles is bound to the Underworld.”

“Only partially,” Stiles corrected. He tossed the apple to Chris. “It was grown in the Underworld but with heavenly magic, making it an amalgamation of the two Worlds. Which means I can roam both, as long as I split my time evenly between the two.”

Chris couldn’t help but smile with pride.

“He’s right,” he announced. He turned his clear eyes to John. “Your son is a smart man.”

“Something else I get from my mother,” Stiles said, a mischievous smile lifting the corners of his lips as he winked in his father’s direction. He turned and reached for a stalk of wheat. “That, among other things.”

He felt his power flow through him, his eyes glowing as streams of golden light seeped into the ground. The wilting crops flourished, filling the fields with golden wheat. The open stretches of grass burst to life, bursts of colour spread across the lush green as the wild flowers bloomed. The leaves returned to the trees, lush fruit hanging from the branches.

Stiles let out a weak sigh, his eyes fading to their natural hue.

His body weakened as he fell back into Derek’s strong arms.

The man steadied him as Stiles tried to regain his senses.

Stiles looked up at Chris, watching as a kind smile spread across the man’s weary face.

“Stiles Stilinski; God of Spring,” he paused for a second before adding, “and King of the Underworld.”

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