A/N: I actually wrote this fic almost a year ago (has it really been that long?) for round 2 of the Teen Wolf Rare Pair Exchange and it was my first (published) fic.
Needless to say, that means it's bad.
Very bad.
I don't think there's even proper usage of who vs. whom. There is nice innuendo though.
Anyways, the reason I'm posting this now is to meet the requirements to be a beta reader. That's it. Just ignore this. Or not. Your call.

(Also I hope you guys appreciate the Prince Charming edit that took all of 5 minutes, it was hard work)

Our story begins with a tale of woe. Once upon a time, young Stiles was loved dearly by both his father and mother, John and Claudia. When he was just a child, however, his mother passed away of a sudden illness. Deciding that the boy needed a mother in his life, John made the choice to remarry. He eventually met a dark and beautiful woman by the name of Talia. Stiles, John, Talia and her two daughters, Cora and Laura, lived together in peace for some years. But one day he, too, passed, as had his mother, and once more Stiles had been abandoned by those he loved. After his father's death, his step-mother and step-sisters became increasingly cruel. He was forced to live alone in the tower and work day after day, doing chores as they saw fit. His only companions were the animals living in the house: the birds, the mice, the barn animals, and even the grumpy watch-dog, Derek, all who loved him dearly.

"Danny, the window's open for a reason. So you can fly out of it." Stiles growled lowly and shoved his face further into his pillow.

Danny continued to circle above Stiles' sleeping figure, eventually landing on his head and pecking lightly at him. "Wake up, it's a wonderful morning!" He sang.

"Get out of here you stupid bird," he griped, rolling over and swatting at him with a pillow. "The sun is barely even out." Danny didn't let down. "Oh damn, not you guys too?" He asked, gesturing as two more birds, Erica and Boyd, landed on his shoulders. "Fine, I'm getting up. But if one of you wakes up missing your tail feathers you'll know why." Erica stuck out her tongue and Boyd laughed beside her.

Stiles rolled out of bed (gracefully, as always) and walked over to his chest of clothes. He began laying out his usual attire suited for housework as well as comfort. "No, no, guys, I don't need help getting dressed, you can wait outside," he said, releasing them from their self-appointed duties. He swore he heard Danny tweet a comment about his hair but he ignored it and continued getting ready for his day.

Suddenly Scott scurried under the door, an urgent expression on his face. "Stiles, there's a mouse in the trap!"

Stiles sighed in exhaustion. "Another one? Alright, lead the way."

Scott nodded in appreciation as he led him downstairs to the rat – sorry, "mouse", Stiles reminded himself – trap. He opened the door to find a small and intimidated mouse at the back of the cage. "What's your name little guy?" He asked, gently setting the contraption down on the ground and encouraging him to come out.

"My-my name's Liam," he squeaked, carefully stepping outside onto the staircase.

"Well don't worry, we'll take good care of you Liam," Stiles assured with a half-smile.

"Just make sure not to wake him up early and you'll be fine," Scott laughed.

Stiles poured out the last of the tea kettle and turned around, grinning fondly as he saw Derek tossing about in a fit in his sleep. He gently took him by the shoulder and shook him awake. "Another nightmare?" He asked.

"No, this one was a good dream. I had that furball right between my teeth..."

"I can't say I blame you, but you two should really try to get along more," he pointed out, looking over at the "sleeping" feline perched on a shelf.

"Cats and dogs are natural enemies. That's all the reason I need to not get along with Peter."

"Fair enough, but they're more alike than you would think. Just try not to kill him will ya? You know how Talia would react if a single hair on his precious coat was harmed." He shuddered.

"I can't make any promises, but we'll see," Derek yawned, stretching out his body and curling back up for another nap.

"Typical, the both of you," Stiles muttered, shaking his head as he swung open the door to the courtyard.

Stiles put two fingers between his lips, blowing out a sharp whistle to signal breakfast. All of the chickens in the barn flocked around him as he spread seed across on the ground. He went from stall to stall, paying careful attention to each animal and making sure they were well fed before moving on.

Having attended to every horse, cow, pig, and fowl, he wiped his hands off on his pants and looked around once more feeling proud of his work. The mice, he cursed, pulling off his dirty boots and walking over to a cabinet to fetch the cheese. "Scott? Liam? Anyone?" No response. He shrugged internally and grabbed the breakfast trays he had prepared earlier as he went back upstairs.

Stiles' left hand froze on the doorknob of Laura's bedroom, his right threatening to drop the tray he was carrying as the corridors were filled with a horrified shriek coming from Cora's room.

She emerged into the hallway with a loud crash, practically breaking down her doors. "Stiles, you freak! You did this on purpose, didn't you?!"

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong or are you just gonna scream like usual?" Stiles asked, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

"I'm talking about that rat – that thing I found under my teacup!"

"Oh, that's just Liam, he's harmless," he dismissed, waving his hand. How did he end up in there anyway? Stiles wondered.

Unsurprisingly, those words were of little comfort to her. "You even named it?"

"Actually I didn't name him, he–" Stiles cut himself off looking at Cora's disbelieving face and deciding that it wouldn't do any good. "You know what, never mind. I don't know how he got in there though, I promise."

"It's too late for that now, I'm telling mother!"

Laura came out of her room, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she glared at Stiles. "What's going on here?"

"This rat put a rat in my teacup!" She exclaimed.

Laura turned and stood inches from Stiles' face, expecting him to answer for his crimes. "Well? I'm waiting."

Stiles ignored her and continued speaking to Cora. "I didn't, it was an accident, hey – are you even listening?!" He asked in exasperation. Cora had already woken her mother and gone off on a tangent about what a terrible step-brother and human being Stiles was.

Talia was eerily silent throughout the whole ordeal. "Don't worry, I believe you dear." She motioned with for Cora to leave the room. Cora crossed her arms and bumped into Stiles on the way out, whispering, "Serves you right."

"Come, sit," she commanded. Stiles obeyed wordlessly, entering his step-mother's chamber and settling down on the edge of the bed.

"Cora tells me you pulled a rather cruel prank on her," she stated, slowly stroking the cat in her lap.

"I swear I didn't, I was just–"

She held up a hand, silencing him. "Please, spare me your lies this once. I can see them burning through your eyes."

"No, you don't understand–"

"Oh, but I do. I understand that you've been misbehaving. And you know what we do with children who misbehave," she said, her mouth a hard line but her eyes grinning menacingly.

"Isaac, do you know how old I am?" Chris asked, turning to face his assistant.

"You're 44, your majesty."

Chris paced back and forth through his office, examining each and every portrait of his ancestors, scowling when he came across Gerard. "Wrong. Too old, Isaac, the answer is too old. And in this old age I need something, I need a legacy."

"You have a son, your majesty. Prince Jordan."

"Never mind him," Chris said nonchalantly. "I need more. I need... grandchildren," he proclaimed, gesturing to the ceiling to emphasize his point.

Isaac sighed, having been over this conversation time and time again. "But the prince refuses to marry. He has yet to find a suitable wife."

"Then we shall find him one. Isaac, arrange for a ball at once. I want every eligible maiden in the land present tonight. There has to be one there who will pique his interest."

"How can you be certain? What if he denies the hand of every woman there?"

"You're telling me there isn't one woman in this kingdom who my son will fancy?"

Isaac looked down at his shoes nervously. "I didn't say that, but – I just – I don't think this is a good idea."

"That's the wonderful thing, Isaac," Chris laughed, clapping him on the back. "I'm the king. Your opinion means nothing to me."

Stiles wiped the sweat from his brow, once more submerging the rags into the bucket and proceeding to scrub every tile of the floor clean. He was finally able to see his reflection clearly upon the surface and was about to move on to his next chore when he heard a knock at the door. He dried his hands and placed the rags back on the ground before answering the door. To his surprise, he was met with a nobleman bearing a parchment stamped with the king's seal. The courier raised a fist to his chest and cleared his throat pronouncedly. "At this time his majesty the king requests the presence of all eligible maidens and their consorts at the royal palace. The young Prince Jordan will be choosing a wife to his liking from those who attend. Ceremonies begin promptly at ten o'clock." The man handed the document over to Stiles before turning on his heel and exiting the premise. Stiles remained calm until the door was fully closed and the messenger was back in his chariot. Once he was, however, Stiles couldn't contain his excitement. He was practically bouncing off the neatly polished floors and had to hold in his shouts out of fear of alarming Talia and his step-sisters.

Stiles went upstairs and knocked at the door to the piano room where Cora and Laura were in the middle of a rather horrid performance of "Sing Sweet Nightingale". Hearing nothing but the sound of pain and agony he barged into the room unannounced.

Talia was taken aback at his intrusion. "Good heavens boy, have you no courtesy?"

He muttered an apology before holding out the paper and presenting it to the others, his grin never having left his face.

"What's this supposed to be?" Laura asked, snatching the article from him and reading it under her breath. Her eyes grew wide and she drew in her breath in disbelief.

"What's the big deal?" Cora demanded, forcing the letter out of her hand. Her eyes passed over the lines impatiently and her reaction soon matched Laura's. "This if from the king? Prince Jordan is looking to take a wife?!"

"I only saw him once before years ago. It was a glorious sight, the prince is so... charming." Laura sighed, clutching her chest and staring dreamily out the window.

"What is this about? Have you been requested to attend some sort of event?" Talia inquired, slightly concerned.

"The king is calling all the eligible maidens in the land to come to the palace tonight. Oh, we have to start getting ready right away!" Cora cried out. "Wait a minute... what's got you so excited? I wouldn't exactly describe you as an 'eligible maiden'," she giggled, pointing to Stiles. Laura joined her and soon the two were bent over in a fit of laughter at the thought of Stiles at the royal palace.

"All eligible maidens and their consorts," he elaborated. "Which includes me, doesn't it? Oh, mother, can I go? Please? It'd be an incredible opportunity to even catch a glimpse of the prince." Stiles mentally berated himself for acting like a juvenile girl. He couldn't help it, though; ever since his father's death he rarely interacted with the outside world, let alone royalty.

"I don't see why not," Talia shrugged, weighing the possibilities. "But only if you finish your chores, and only if you can find something respectable to wear. You can't very well go to the royal palace dressed like that," she cringed, stepping back to examine his garments.

"No problem, I should have my chores done in a few hours and then I can find one of my father's old suits!" He cheered, leaving the room in a hurry.

Stiles was conceivably ecstatic at Talia's ruling but his sisters were not left with the same impression as they stared at their mother incredulously. Once she was sure he was gone Laura spoke up defiantly. "How could you allow him to come along? He'll ruin everything! He's not meant to go to the royal palace or see the prince! I worry that poor Prince Jordan will fall ill at the sight of that walking disaster!" She exclaimed dramatically.

"Don't worry my children, Stiles won't be attending the ball. Do you really think he'll manage to do all of that in time?" She asked, smiling wickedly.

"Talia agreed to let you go to the ball? Really?" Scott asked, jumping down onto the bed.

"I couldn't believe it either. I finally finished my chores so all I have to do is find something nice to wear and I'll be ready," Stiles replied, rummaging through his drawers to find dress socks.

"I wonder what the prince is like?" Scott wondered out loud.

"I've heard my step-sisters talking about him before. They said he's tall and rich and, well, a prince. It's pretty self-explanatory," Stiles shrugged.

"He doesn't sound very interesting," Liam commented absent-mindedly.

"Oh well, what did you expect? Besides, even the most boring royalty is more interesting than anyone I'm going to meet in my life." Several of the birds and mice turned to him with hurt expressions. "Any person," he explained. Several of them nodded and chirped in agreement. Stiles finished putting together the things he needed for the ball and laid them out across his bed. "Now I just need to find..." Stiles paused, sighing heavily. "A suit."

"Is something wrong?" Liam asked.

"No, nothing, it's fine. I'll be right back, guys," Stiles called as he headed out the door.

Liam turned to Scott. "What's his problem?"

Scott put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head.

Stiles walked up and down the aisles of the attic for what seemed like ages, taking everything in. He felt the sleeves of his father's coats and the fabric of his mother's dresses, remembering the sights, the sounds, the smells, everything. "Dad..." He whimpered, his voice almost inaudible. "Why did you leave me, dad? Why did you leave me alone with these people?"

Melissa appeared outside of the attic in a show of sparkles and was about to enter until she heard quiet sobbing coming from the other side of the door. She hesitated for a moment but eventually decided to proceed (with caution), making her presence known with a delicate, "Hello?" Immediately the crying stopped and she heard the sounds of someone sniffling and drying their tears away.

"Who's there?" Stiles asked accusingly, turning his head to see a woman in the doorway.

"Huh, people are usually more excited to see me," Melissa mused.

"Are you one of my mother's friends?" Stiles asked, confused.

"Hey, I don't look that old, do I?" She frowned. "No, I'm your Fairy Godmother. I came because I heard you've been having a hard time with your family."

"They're not my family..." He mumbled. "Wait, did you say you're my Fairy Godmother? I always thought those were just a myth."

"Do I look like a myth to you sweetie?" She questioned, her hands on her hips.

"No, I guess not. Sorry." He shook his head. "I just... I was supposed to go to this ball but I don't know if I can anymore."

"Oh? And why is that?" She asked, sitting down on a bench next to Stiles.

He gestured to the rows of clothes around him. "These were my parents'. My step-mother has been wanting to get rid of them for years but I wouldn't let her. They're the only thing I have left of them." He picked up a particular suit jacket and stared at it for a long time. "This was the one I was supposed to wear. I was going to go with Talia and the others and have a great time but now I'm not sure. Why would I even bother? I don't belong in a palace."

Melissa concentrated, looking deep into Stiles' eyes. "What do you think will happen if you go?"

"Nothing."

"What do you hope will happen?"

Stiles looked back down at the jacket. "Something. I don't care, just... anything besides this."

Melissa leaned in, taking his hands in hers. "How do you know that's not going to happen if you don't even try? You might as well see what happens. What do you have to lose?"

He laughed despite the tears still in his eyes. "At least? Nothing. At most? Knowing my step-mother, my life."

She joined him in laughter, placing a hand on his back and pulling him even closer. "I can guarantee you that isn't going to happen. You can trust me, Stiles. That's what a Fairy Godmother is for. C'mon," she urged, standing up.

They walked through the house quietly so as not to bring attention to themselves, pausing to wave goodbye to his friends before descending the spiral staircase. "Where are we going?" He asked as she pulled him along through the back door and into the garden.

"We have you to make you worthy of the royal assembly," she casually remarked.

"...and? What exactly does that entail?" He questioned.

"This," she stated, stopping in her tracks in front of a particular tree. "This is a Mountain Ash tree."

"Am I to present it to his grace as a gift?" He asked sarcastically.

Melissa eyed him impatiently. "Just watch," she instructed, rummaged through the pockets of her robe and producing a simple white wand. "Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo," she sang, waving the wand in front of the tree.

Stiles began smiling and trying to hold back laughter. "Was the whole 'bippity-boppity' thing really necessary?"

She stared him down again. "Those are very powerful words and you would do well to respect them." She cleared her throat, readying her wand. "Now, as I was saying... Salagadoola mechicka boola bibbidi-bobbidi-boo!" She sang.

Stiles burst out in laughter this time and was about to double over before he noticed the tree coming to life. The branches and roots were slowly taking shape into some sort of carriage. He stared in wonder as the tree came together to form a beautifully crafted ebony dog-sled before his very eyes, complete with a set of reigns. He stood there in awe but it wasn't long before he realized there was a problem. We don't have anything to pull it, Stiles thought to himself.

Melissa looked at him knowingly. "One step ahead of you," she said, smiling smugly. "Where are your little forest friends?"

He quirked his eyebrow. "You mean Scott and Liam and the others?"

"Those would be the ones. Oh!" She yelped, suddenly spotting a row of mice marching towards them with wide eyes. One by one she morphed them into mighty black wolves with the help of her wand. Several of them had been taken by surprise at first (Liam had even tried to run away) but eventually they proudly examined their new bodies and howled amongst each other. Even poor Derek had been found and made into a footman. The first thing he did with human facial muscles was, of course, frown. "You're almost ready. One more finishing touch," she told him softly, taking a few steps back and looking over his clothes. With one last wave of her wand Stiles' old rags transformed into a marvelous white tuxedo, adorned with a golden pocket square tucked neatly into his breast. He had a white rose pinned to his lapel and his shoes were polished to a lustrous shine. His hair still looked like he had just rolled out of bed, but that was part of his charm. "Oh, you're a sight to behold dear!" She swooned, examining her handy-work with pride.

Stiles did a twirl, admiring his new outfit exuberantly. "I don't know what to say, it's all like a dream," he remarked in amazement.

Melissa returned his enthusiasm, smiling upon him fondly. He may have seemed sarcastic but she knew how much this meant to him. Her expression soon grew wary though, realizing she had not yet told him about the conditions. "But," she began, earning his attention. "Be warned, Stiles. All fairy tales must come to an end. When the clock strikes four, the spell will wear off and all will be as it once was."

He nodded. "I understand. Don't worry Fairy Godmother, I'll be back before then." He was a little disappointed to know that the fantasy would soon be over but he was grateful nonetheless. It was still more than he could have ever asked for.

"Please, call me Melissa," she offered. "Oh, and one last thing, Stiles. I slipped a little something extra into your jacket, but don't look inside until you're at the ball. You'll know when to use it," she winked. "Now hurry up, you're gonna be late!"

Stiles boarded the sled and the wolves quickly began dashing off towards the palace. Stiles turned back and waved to Melissa, silently thanking her with his eyes.

She waved back as he disappeared into the horizon. "Have a good time, and come back safe, you hear me?!"

Stiles climbed out of the sled legs first and turned to face his friends. "Will you guys be alright waiting here?" Scott barked, reassuring him. Stiles grinned and shoved his hands into his pockets nervously, making his way up the winding stairs to where the gathering was being held. He took a place in the back near the balcony where he could observe the ceremony without being noticed by Talia. He was unable to see the prince from where he stood, however, even when he was on his tip-toes.

Isaac cleared his throat to present the next maiden. "Lady Allison of House Argent," he announced as she approached the assembly and curtsied elegantly. Jordan's expression remained as unimpressed as ever as she turned back and joined the other women gathering on the side of the aisle. "Lady Kira of House Yuki – oh dear, are you alright, miss?!" He asked, concerned as the girl tripped over her dress and fell face-down onto the walkway. Jordan quickly rushed to her aide, grabbing her hand and helping her up.

"Perfect, thank you," she beamed at Jordan. He flashed a smile and nodded out of sympathy before returning to the same tired expression.

"If that's settled then..." Isaac began. "Lady Malia of House Tate." Malia made her way to the front and stood there in confusion, not saying a word. "Curtsie," Isaac coughed, covering his mouth. Malia smiled brightly and bowed coarsely before joining Kira and wordlessly communicating her panic.

Jordan surveyed the crowd impatiently, looking to see how many more women there were left to go through.

Isaac guided Jordan away from the crowd and into a private room, making sure there was no one around before shutting the doors behind them. "Your majesty, every maiden has shown herself to the assembly. You have to choose a bride now."

Jordan ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, exhausted. "What if I choose none of them? What then?"

I knew this would happen, Isaac thought to himself. "It is your father's wish, and you know what will happen to me if I'm not able to find you a wife," Isaac hinted, motioning to his neck.

Jordan rolled his eyes. "I'll buy you a new scarf, Isaac."

"It wouldn't be the same and you know that," he said defensively.

Jordan turned and made for the exit, dismissing Isaac's paranoia.

"Wait, where are you going sir?!"

"I'm going to get some fresh air," Jordan called back, pushing past the double doors and entering the stream of women mingling outside the drawing room. As he passed by each of them, decorated in their finest jewels and formal wear, he couldn't help but feel guilty. It was true that the event had been arranged without his knowledge or consent but that didn't change the fact that every one of these girls had tried to their best to be presentable for him when none of them had had a chance to begin with. "Will you make sure that no one comes out here?" He requested, murmuring to the guard posted outside of the balcony. The guard nodded and Jordan silently slipped out, immediately relieved to be away from all of the hustle of the party. The first thing he noticed was a figure leaning against the rail, gazing longingly at the stars. Jordan approached him, coming to rest at his side and joining him in his silent reverie. After several long minutes of reticence, he finally spoke up. "What are you doing out here all alone?"

The other man scoffed. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Fair enough. I'll ask you a simpler question, then." Jordan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Why don't we start with names? You can call me... Parrish. And you?"

"Stiles."

The boy turned to face him and for the first time he was able to get a good look at the mysterious young man's face. Jordan was immediately captivated by his bright yet morose eyes and innocent features.

"So what brings you to this ball?" Jordan asked, leaning in to show his interest.

"I was hoping for a free meal, but there's no banquet here," Stiles joked.

He chuckled. "No, really. I'm curious."

"I was desperate to spend a night away from home. It wouldn't hurt to have a chance to meet the prince either but he's been busy all night," Stiles admitted, returning his attention to the waves drifting towards the shore.

"What's got you so eager to leave home? You look like a respectable gentleman, it can't be that bad where you live, right?" He asked. "And you never know, the prince might have a moment to spare after the festivities," he teased, smirking.

"Nobility isn't always all it's cracked up to be, but you should know that," he lied. "You look like you come from one of the finer houses yourself."

Jordan laughed ironically. "Oh, you don't even know the half of it." He peered over his shoulder. The curtains were drawn so no one could look out onto the balcony. Feeling brave, he held one arm out to Stiles, the other resting across his waist. "Care to dance with me?"

"Oh? And why would I want to dance with you?" Stiles asked playfully.

Jordan pondered the question for a moment. "Because if you never take chances you'll never find love," he answered simply.

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "Love? You sure are confident. I have rules, you know. I don't just jump into bed with the first guy who has a perfect smile." He paused. "And eyes. And hair... and laugh."

"I get the feeling you're the kind of person to break the rules," he said flirtatiously.

"I may have been known to in the past," Stiles confessed, taking Jordan's hand. "You'll have to lead though, I haven't been ballroom dancing in years," he warned.

"I'm sure you'll be just fine," he reassured him softly.

The two of them lost track of time and being as they danced together, enjoying the other's company and the quietness of the night. Before long, the clock tower had chimed to signal one o'clock and they made the decision to part.

"Meet me in my room at the back of the palace in five minutes. Isaac will let you in," Jordan instructed.

Stiles seemed lost. "Your room? Are you one of the servants here?"

"Not exactly. The king lets me stay here from time to time as a favor to his only son," he confessed.

Stiles' head looked as if it were about to explode. "Are you telling me you're the prince?" He questioned, dumbstruck.

"Is that what they're calling it these days? I guess so," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Stiles mind went blank as he tried, and failed, to process the information.. "Wait, so, prince... as in the golden crown and silk pajamas with your name embroidered into the waistband? You have scrambled dragon eggs and thousand-year old wine for breakfast every morning?"

"I think your ideas of royalty are a little misguided, but I do have my named stitched into my trousers, yes." Stiles' mind was still blank. "Hello?" He asked, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Stiles questioned, clearly betrayed.

Jordan looked down at his shoes, embarrassed. "Would you have been yourself with me if you knew who I really was?"

"Well, I guess not..." Stiles trailed off.

"So you see why I had to keep that from you? And you'll forgive me, then?" Jordan asked hopefully, making his best puppy dog face.

He nodded. "What can I say, you're hard to stay mad at, Jordan."

"So then... five minutes?"

"You can count on it."

Stiles watched the night sky wistfully through the window in the ceiling of the bedroom chamber, thinking about everything in his life that had led up to this moment. He wondered if he could have a future here, with this man. He had only known him a few short hours and yet he felt he like he could trust him with anything. He knew it was a foolish belief – after all, you can't fall in love with someone that quickly, can you? – but he believed it nonetheless. "What are we doing here, anyway?" he asked, turning over to face Jordan.

He shrugged. "Laying in bed, thinking about our lives, counting the stars, what else?"

"That's not what I meant. You were supposed to find a wife, Jordan, not someone like me. Your father is probably patiently awaiting grandchildren as we speak," he said, squeezing the other man's hand.

Jordan looked at him, offended. "What do you mean 'someone like you'? Someone who I enjoy and want to spend my time with? What's wrong with that?"

"You know exactly what's wrong with that," he breathed out, holding Jordan's hand even tighter.

"It doesn't have to be that way, does it?"

"It does."

"Not always. We always have the capability to change our lives," he said desperately.

"It's just like you said, not always. Some things are how they are and there's nothing we can do about it. This is just one of those things." Stiles felt tears coming to his eyes and reached up dry them but Jordan stopped him, taking his hand and pressing a gentle kiss to it.

"Hey, hey, don't say that," he consoled. "My father arranged this ball so that I could find someone to marry, someone to love and to spend the rest of my life with, didn't he? What if that was you?"

"We still barely know each other," he reasoned.

"I know enough about you to know that I want to protect you. Enough to know that I never want to see you cry again. Enough to know that I want to love you. I can't explain it, it's just like–"

"Like a fairy tale," Stiles slowly whispered, finishing his sentence.

Jordan nodded. "Exactly."

Stiles laughed a bit uneasily. "It's funny, you know. A week ago, hell, a few hours ago I would have told you those were 'just a myth'. But since then I've learned that sometimes those are just our way of letting ourselves down before someone else can do it for us."

"So what do you say... will you give me a chance?" He asked, looking deep into Stiles' eyes.

"Of course I will." Stiles placed a hand on the back of Jordan's head and reached forward, joining their lips together. The kiss was deep and affectionate but full of something else; longing, desire. The two embraced for sometime, saying with their bodies what they couldn't with their words.

Jordan suddenly pulled away from Stiles, concerned. "Uh, wait, do you... have something we can use?"

"No, I – actually, wait a second." Stiles stood up, searching the room for where he had discarded his jacket. He reached into the pocket on the inside and felt three circular objects. He pulled one out and held it up the light to examine it. "Why yes, yes I do," he smiled brightly. Sneaky Fairy Godmother, he thought, very sneaky indeed.

Stiles woke with a start, looking around the room frantically. The clock read 3:30. He jumped out of bed, gathering his clothes that had been scattered across the floor and getting dressed as quickly as he could.

"...mmm? Stiles?" Jordan asked sleepily, shifting from his position in bed to a more upright one.

Stiles jumped into both legs of his pants at the same time. "I–I have to leave. I'll explain later," choked out. He fastened his belt and sat on the edge of the mattress, holding his shoes in one hand.

Jordan was fully awake now. "You don't have to go," he whispered, caressing his cheek.

Stiles shook his head and slipped on the shoes. "I do. I'll see you again, I promise." He reached up, removing the hand from his face, just as it was almost stained with tears. Why do I keep doing this? It wasn't like him to cry. Stiles thought he heard something fall to the ground as he ran out of the room but he didn't look back.

"Stiles, wait!" Jordan pleaded, but it was too late. He wanted so badly to understand but he was left with nothing. Why had this man come into his life and left just as suddenly – and just when everything seemed to be going so perfectly?

Stiles continued to run; through the grand hall, past the palace guards who began shouting and following after him, and all the way down to the sled where he quickly woke up Derek who got the attention of the others. They were off just in time to escape the angry (and tired) guards.

"You alright, Stiles?" Derek asked, pulling on the reigns to slow down as they dashed through a gathering of trees.

Stiles nodded, burying his heads in his knees without a sound.

"Oh, so now you're not one for words?" He mocked.

Stiles nodded again. He noticed that Derek actually looked pretty good as a human. He wished that he could stay that way so that he would have someone in the house to talk to that wasn't an animal.

"Fine, don't say anything. I didn't really want to know anyway," he shrugged. "But you know you're going to have to talk about it eventually, don't you?"

"Yes," came his singular reply. Unfortunately, Stiles knew that all too well. No doubt Talia would be waiting for him as soon as he got home.

Derek looked at him sympathetically but decided not to press the issue any further.

Soon enough, though, they were home and the magic began to fade. Stiles' clothes returned to those of a common village boy and once again the mice became mice and Derek (begrudgingly) became Derek. They all parted ways and returned to their respective haunts, settling down for a well earned rest. Stiles entered his bedroom and slumped down on the ground, leaning against the door and silently cursing himself. The darkness was broken by a lamp turning on in the corner.

"That cliché?" Stiles asked, making his "You've gotta be kidding me" face.

"I'm sure you know why I'm here," Talia said.

"I don't know a lot of things and that happens to be one of them," he lied, even though there was some truth to it. She was there to punish him, but in what way? More chores? Shackles and iron balls? Locking him in his room for eternity?

"I'm concerned about my only son, of course," she said sarcastically, Peter echoing – or purring – back the sentiment.

"Concerned as in you're going to give me a long hug and tell me everything will be alright?" He asked hopefully.

"Not quite," Talia laughed, retrieving a golden key from her pocket and locking the door with it as she exited.

Huh, so it was the third option, Stiles mused, defeated.

The next morning the king's advisor, Isaac, arrived at their house. "How can I help you, sir?" Talia asked politely, putting on quite the show.

"I come on behalf of the young prince Jordan. He seeks the young man in possession of, uhhh..." He held out a glass condom, blushing heatedly as he did so. "'This'."

Scott saw what the man was holding and gasped. "Liam, look!"

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" Liam asked, confused.

"That belongs to Stiles! The prince is looking for him!"

"Shouldn't we tell him then?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "You think so?"

"Who's there, mother?" Cora called from the top of the stairs.

"Quick, let's go while they're distracted," Scott whispered.

They scurried to the top of the tower and started knocking on Stiles' bedroom door and shouting his name.

"Scott? Liam? Is that you?" He asked, pressing his ear to the door.

Liam nodded before realizing that Stiles couldn't see him. "Uh, yeah! The prince has sent a messenger, he's been trying to find you!"

"Hurry!" Scott reminded him.

Stiles felt simultaneously relieved and panicked. "I would love to, believe me, I would, but I'm locked up in here."

"Well how are we supposed to get you out?!" Scott shouted nervously.

Stiles lit up, remembering what had happened last night. "Listen, the key, Talia has the key! You have to get it!"

"I don't think–"

"We're on it!" Scott called back, interrupting Liam.

"Are you crazy? How are we supposed to get that from her?" Liam asked as they raced down the stairs.

"We'll figure something out. We have to, this is Stiles we're talking about," he reasoned.

"I guess you're right," Liam admitted.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs everyone was still gathered there.

"So, are you sure the prince didn't mention any lovely maidens in particular?" Cora asked conceitedly. "Perhaps one with the most captivating chestnut eyes?"

"Or one with hair as beautiful and black as the night?" Cora chimed in.

"Again, there were no maidens. He's looking for a boy," Isaac repeated.

Cora laughed fakely. "Don't be silly now, this is the prince we're talking about!"

"Yes, surely he's looking to settle down with a nice woman?" Laura agreed.

Scott and Liam collectively sighed.

"Look, over there, the key!" Liam yelled, quickly covering his mouth. Talia looked around the room as if she had just heard a fly buzzing near her ear before returning her attention to her two daughters who were still desperately bargaining with Isaac. "Sorry," he muttered. "How are we supposed to carry that all the way up those stairs though?"

"I already have that figured out, don't worry," he smiled slyly. "Boyd, Erica, Danny, over here!"

The three of them fluttered from their perch on the window to the bottom of the stairs as requested.

Erica cocked her head and put her wing on her hip, annoyed. "What is it?"

"We need your help getting that key to Stiles!" Scott whispered as loudly as he could. "Alright, gather around, here's the plan..."

Scott and Liam had successfully retrieved the key from Talia and with the combined effort of the three birds they were able to fly it to the top of the tower. They released it from their tired talons and it fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Stiles!" Scott exclaimed as him and Liam nosed the key under the door.

Peter creeped out from one of the shadows and was ready to steal the key for himself before Derek appeared behind him, growling. "Don't even think about it, or I'll tear your whiskers out," Derek paused, bearing his fangs, "with my teeth."

Boyd and Erica made a game of mimicking Peter as he stalked away, giggling and flying about.

"You got it!" Stiles yelled, picking up the key and looking at it as if it were made of gold (which it was, but that's besides the point). He quickly opened the door and reached down to hug each and every critter. "I have no idea how to thank you guys!"

"You can thank us by – hurrying and getting your – prince charming," Danny breathed, squeezing out of Stiles' grasp.

"He's right, he's not gonna wait forever," Boyd added.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise!" Stiles called as he rushed down the stairs.

Scott sniffled. "They grow up so fast."

"Hey, hey, it's alright," Liam comforted, placing a hand on the back of his shoulder. "Maybe we'll get to live at the royal palace! Derek can even be a guard dog!"

"Hey, maybe the kid's right!" Erica said, her bright red beak widening in delight.

Stiles was still making his way down down the stairs when he saw Isaac turning to leave. "Wait, wait for me!" He cried.

Isaac turned back. "I thought you said there were no men in this house, miss?" He asked Talia accusingly.

"There's not, he's only a boy," she answered.

He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. "Regardless, we still must ask him if he possesses the matching... item in question."

"I do, I do, it's right here!" Stiles pulled it out of his pocket, holding it out so Isaac could see it clearly. "Do you need me to try it on to prove it to you? It's a perfect fit!"

Isaac cleared his throat, embarrassed. "That won't be necessary, I'll take your word for it," he said, looking at the apparent size of it in moderate surprise.

"So you're the one the prince is looking for? Impossible!" Cora shrieked. "How could he choose you over our beauty?" She questioned, gesturing between Laura and herself.

"Silence, girls," Talia held out her hand. "If Stiles is the one the prince wants to be with, then there is... nothing we can do to stop it," she admitted, attempting to retain her dignity.

"Mother, you can't mean that?!" Laura demanded.

"Look on the bright side, this will gain us seats in the royal assembly," she reassured. "That is, if you'll accept us...?" She asked, looking to Stiles for approval.

Stiles nodded, finally able to put his hatred for the others behind him. As long as he was with Jordan, nothing, not even Talia nor his wicked step-sisters could bring him down.

The next day the young couple was married and, despite some apprehension, it was a joyous occasion celebrated by everyone in the kingdom once they saw how genuinely Stiles and Jordan loved each other. After some persuasion, all of the animals were invited to live with them at the palace as they had hoped. Talia and her daughters somehow always managed to find an excuse to get inside where Cora and Laura would attempt to flirt their way into nobility before being chased off by the new "guard dog".

Everyone lived happily ever after, even Derek. Everyone but the king, that is, who would rest his head in his hands and mourn the loss of his unborn grandchildren from time to time.

A/N: Seriously, has it been that long? I feel old now. I'm about to hit the big one-eight.