ephemeral || stiles and the originals

chapter ten

yall are being FED today jesus. thank @UrDadJstCallsMeKatya for the double update, it's their fault i'm doing this

btw this is not gonna be canon. well most of it is, but if something isn't, i probably made it that way so don't attack me lmao

also most of this is stiles talking hh

saturday, february 19
new orleans, louisiana
third person pov

"Over a thousand years ago, there was a family," Stiles settled onto the floor, legs crossing as his accent filled the space and he ignored the ranges of shock, hurt, and confusion on the pack's faces.

"It begins in 10th century Europe with a young, naive with named Esther who fell in love with a Viking, one of those that had captured her and her sister on a raiding party, named Mikael.

"They married, despite the anger it inspired in Esther's sister, Dahlia. The two sisters did not speak until Esther found she was barren. Although the bad blood between, Dahlia performed the ritual for a price and Esther was soon pregnant. She gave birth to Freya first and not long after a boy, Finn. They left for the New World, Esther pregnant with a third, Elijah. Tragedy struck them and Freya was lost to a plague."

Stiles had their attention and his eyes darted up for a split second to find the pack all sitting around him as if he was a teacher reading them a story.

"Esther had to burn the body and to escape the memories and the weight of such tragedy, the growing family moved to one of the viking colonies in the Americas. There they lived as neighbors to werewolves."

"Werewolves?" Scott asked, eyebrows furrowed, his voice quiet.

Stiles smiled wryly, "Not the type you're used to, I'm afraid. They're able to fully transform into wolf form. Prototype A, if you will. Your kind, type B, does not appear until the late eighteenth century, similar but very different. These werewolves were primal and Mikael, a viking warrior in his prime, found himself often joining hunts.

"The grief he felt for the loss of his daughter, his favourite child, pushed him to distance himself from his wife. It wasn't until the birth of their third son, Niklaus, that Mikael had hoped restored in him of having a family."

Stiles looked up, eyes darkening with an apology, "Kol was born next, followed by a girl, Rebekah, then me, and finally our youngest brother, Henrik."

"You?" Allison's voice cracked, "Stiles, who are you?"

Stiles brushed the question away, "When I was seventeen, Klaus took Henrik to watch the werewolves on a full moon, breaking a sacred law of their village. Henrik was ten when a wolf lost control and mauled him to death."

He ignored the gasps, stretching his fingers out over his thighs, "Don't misunderstand, our father, Mikael, was a mean son of a bitch. He wanted us to be warriors and treated us as such. I remember the way he beat Niklaus, how he worked all of us into the ground and how it all became worse when Henrik died. My little brother's death was the last straw and we all knew what it meant: war.

"But we were human and unless we wanted to end up clawed to shreds, we had to adapt. My mother had grown exponentially as a witch and Mikael convinced her to cast a dark spell that would turn us into something faster, stronger than werewolves and gave us our own teeth," Stiles smiled sharply, "Using the power of the sun for life, the ancient white oak tree for immortality, and the magically spelled blood of a doppelgänger, Esther turned me, my five siblings, and my father into a new species.