Chapter Text
Stiles twists the ring in his hand as he enters his room. It has a rather large opaque red stone set at the head or the ring. It is definitely old, and the intricate designs along the band are a work of art. Stiles crosses the room to turn on the light at his desk. The longer he studies the designs, the more sure he is that subtle runes have been mixed into the designs. On the inside of the ring, he finds an inscription written in Polish.
"Bądź chroniony, Miłość."
Why did Grandmama give him this ring? Had it belonged to his mother? If so, why didn't she have it now? He stares at the ring for a moment longer before putting it down. No use dwelling on it now, he can ask her in the morning. He instead turns to the journal he'd been reading that morning and picks it up. Might as well read a little bit before bed.
⚜
Morning starts with Thing tugging on his foot to wake him, and Stiles muzzily getting out of bed and preparing for the day. He blearily pockets the ring before heading down the stairs with Thing perched on his shoulder.
By the time he has reached the kitchen porridge is bubbling in the caldron and the first round of coffee is ready. Stiles gratefully grabs the already filled mug of coffee on the counter and starts drinking it as he starts the second pot, carefully measuring out equal parts cyanide and cane sugar to steep with the coffee grounds. His task finished, Stiles moves to where Grandmama has started throwing ingredients into another cauldron.
She turns and hands him a paddle, "has the coffee hit your system? Good. Here, stir this." She disappears into the pantry only to appear moments later with more jars. She pours bright purple pulp from one of the jars straight into the cauldron. "How did it go yesterday, were you able to find the ley line?"
Stiles stares at the mixture swirling in the cauldron. "No, I got caught in some other type of current. It nearly swept my soul away before I could get back to my body."
Grandmama tilts her head inquisitively. "Your soul left your body? How interesting that's not usually what- never mind that. We'll work on that later. Didn't you put on the ring I gave you?"
"This one?" Stiles pulls out the ring and shows it to her. "I forgot you had given me something. I didn't find the ring until last night when I was in the garden. What does it do?"
She sets aside the jars and takes the ring. "It's supposed to protect the wearer. I wasn't expecting your soul to get dragged away, but considering you've traveled back through time, there's a possibility your body won't react well with elements of this time, especially since there's another you walking around. There's very little information about those who have traveled back in time. Most of it is myth at this point. And I was sending you out to find a ley line." She reaches over and puts the ring on his finger. "I thought better be safe than sorry. It belongs to you anyway."
The ring fits better on his finger than Stiles would ever have guessed. "I saw the polish written on the inside of the ring. Did it belong to my family? Why doesn't Mom have it?"
"She left everything related to her family that could be connected to magic when she married your father. Not that she ever wore it before she got married. This ring has been in your family for generations though. I was saving it for one of her children. I was planning on giving it to you someday. I seem to be giving this to you much earlier and yet much later than I expected to."
As he once again studies the ring, Morticia swans through the door, drops off Cleopatra's dish in the sink, and then heads towards the coffee. "Stiles you truly have mastered making the coffee just the way I like it, thank you." After pouring herself a cup she comes to stand next to him and mock whispers "Grandmama always puts too much sugar in it."
Grandmama sniffs as she dumps a tablespoon of pickled fish eyes into the cauldron. "Nonsense, I put in just the right amount."
Morticia smiles, "the children certainly prefer coffee the way you make it. Speaking of the children, Stiles, classes will be starting for them next week. Would you be willing to drive them? Gomez was going to, he usually does, but he's found a new fencing partner, and the times overlap."
"Of course Aunt Morticia," Stiles replies, surprised, "I thought you were teaching them though?"
"Over the summer we were teaching them magic and family traditions of course, but a few years ago this nice man- do you remember his name Grandmama?"
"Mr. Hillard" she scowls.
"Yes, Mr. Hillard convinced us that we shouldn't take up all of the children's education ourselves. He spoke quite persuasively about how Pugsley and Wednesday needed an environment where they could meet more children their own age. We tried enrolling them in school, but it went horrendously."
"And not the good kind!" Grandmama pronounces.
"Yes quite, they told the children stories of knights killing innocent dragons. Wednesday came home in tears." Morticia tisked. "So we found a few like-minded folks in the community and started a homeschool co-op. The children go to the Agosti's on Tuesdays, and the Allard's on Thursdays. And once a month everyone comes to our house and Grandmama teaches potions and poisons."
"It's great fun!" Grandmama grins as she takes over stirring from Stiles, "I even let the Johnson kids take some of the poisons home. Their parents assure me that they make great use of them."
Stiles blinks. "Of course. I see how Wednesday would be upset. Well, anything I can do to help."
"Thank you Stiles, you're such a great help. It's been so nice having another adult in the house."
⚜
Today Stiles has been tasked with staying at the edge of the marsh and slowly pulling in the magic wafting around the area without getting overwhelmed by the magic, or letting his soul escape. Grandmama suggested leaving the ley line alone for now.
"Uncle Stiles, what should we call you when we're in public?"
"Hmm?" Stiles opens his eyes and focuses on Pugsley standing in front of him "Why do you ask?"
"Mother said we couldn't call you by name when you start driving us to our lessons because it would be bad if your name got to the wrong ears. But I don't know what else to call you!"
Right. He's been so focused on his magic, Stiles had forgotten that he was going to come up with an aliases to use in public. He really couldn't just introduce himself with a title like he had with Peter. That had only been a short-term solution. "I haven't decided yet. What name do you think I should choose?"
Wednesday pops up from behind him dragging a trap behind her. "You could call yourself Valdemar. Then you'd be named after a person from a poem like me."
"Or," suggested Pugsley, "you could take a really normal and boring name so that you can blend in better with normal people. You could have a name like John Smith."
Stiles grins, "Or I could go by Bruce Wayne."
Pugsley squints at him and Wednesday scrunches her nose. "You mean like the superhero that has the silly rule about no killing? It would be more interesting to go by Oswald White."
"Naming myself after the Joker would be less obvious." Stiles takes a moment to look over the marsh. "My first name is actually Mieczyslaw. Stiles was a nickname I always used. I wouldn't mind using a name that's closer to my real one."
Wednesday nods seriously. "It's a good name. I like it. Now come on Pugsley, I want to try out this new trap I made."
Stiles watched the two of them wander further into the marsh before taking a deep breath, pushing the matter of his name to the side, and closing his eyes once again to focus on absorbing magic.
⚜
On Wednesday and Puglsey's first day of classes, Wednesday sits in the front seat of the hearse so she can give Stiles directions to Esme Allard's shop.
"She has to be able to pop into the shop to take care of difficult clients so we have our lessons upstairs. There," Wednesday points out a store with Tarot cards in the front window. "You can park in front of the shop."
They pop out of the car as soon as Stiles parks and head towards the front door. Before Pugsley reaches it, a young lady Stiles would've sworn wasn't any older than thirty opens the door. "Pugsley, Wednesday! It's so nice to see you again. The boys have missed having someone to experiment with. Arnaud made some new explosives and he's been waiting to play with them until you could come over. You two head up now."
"Yes ma'am" They chorus before rushing up the stairs.
The possibly not young lady watches them go before turning and flashing a smile at Stiles. "Hi, I'm Esme."
He reaches out to shake her hand. "Hey, I'm. . . Mietek. Nice to meet you"
They both enter the shop and he takes a quick peek at the place. It looks like a generic mystic shop at first, but as he looks around, the air shimmers and the real wares at the back become visible. If he took the time to study the shop, he's sure he'd find runes specifically set up to keep those without magic from seeing what they shouldn't. "Very nice." he grins.
Esme grins back, "Thanks. So how are you related to the Addams? Morticia called to say that a family member would be dropping off the kids, and no offense, but you really don't give off the same vibe as the rest of them."
"No offence taken. I'm a cousin. Adopted in."
"Ah." She shakes her head sadly. "The dangers of the supernatural community. I'm sorry for your loss."
Stiles shrugs. "It's been a long time since it happened." This was technically true. All of the secrets Stiles had kept from his father caused so many misunderstandings, and studying across the world hadn't helped. His father hadn't been killed, but magic had caused a semi-estrangement between them. Probably better to move on from the topic of his parents. "but thank you. I've started training under Grandmama so I'll be around for a while. What does your shop offer? Can I place orders?"
Esme gives a shark-like smile before launching into her sales pitch.
⚜
Esme Allard, Stiles learns, is a witch. She also lets the town believe that she lives above the shop she owns in town. He's not sure how she and all her children would live comfortably in such a small space until she invites him to come up with the children and he discovers that the upstairs is quite larger than what he expected.
"A bit like the TARDIS, isn't it?" she dimples at him. "It's not actually bigger on the inside. I commissioned a mage to create a portal between the shop and the house."
"Really? Stiles begins inspecting the doorway, I would never have guessed by the feeling when we walked through."
"I don't live far out of town. The closer the two places connected by a portal are, the less nausea is caused by travel."
"Interesting, not to be rude, but it must have cost you quite a lot."
"Oh it certainly would have, but I have connections, and as you must already know, making deals is quite common in our circles." Esme winks at him, "Considering the rare books I trade in, he was very satisfied with the deal we came to."
The Agostis, Stiles learns, well. He doesn't actually learn all that much about the Agostis. They are a lovely couple, have adopted three children, and teach history with a certainty that causes him to wonder if they were there for any of it.
Wednesday adores them. She especially enjoys listening to Alessia Agosti's stories about the French Revolution. She clings tightly to her headless Marie Antoinette doll as Alessia describes the beheadings and sighs as Alessia's husband, Massimo describes how the Sienese art school in Florence was lost due to the Black Death.
Stiles also learns very little about the Johnsons aside from the fact that they are completely human, with no magic to speak of. Jane teaches the children any language they want to study on Tuesdays, and Jeff teaches geography on Thursdays. Wednesday has started taking ballet lessons from Jane, and she's talking Morticia into letting her take gymnastics lessons from her as well.
As Stiles drives them home Thursday night, Pugsley tells him that both Johnsons sometimes have to be away for work, but when that happens, the spouse that's left at home will take over teaching the other's lessons. And Wednesday adds that they always bring back the best souvenirs. She got a book on the best ways to poison someone and Pugsley got real ninja stars.
⚜
After spending a week practicing absorbing magic, Grandmama declares it's time to take a break from that and for Stiles to start practicing using the magic he's stored up. He receives another mountain of books from Grandmama and Aunt Morticia, this time on runes and sigils. He doesn't mind as much when the nights he can't sleep happen now. Instead, he reads through those nights, working on getting through the mountain of books and practicing writing the runes correctly.
⚜
It's a lovely fall evening. Stiles tries to beat Gomez in chess while listening to Lurch play the piano as background music for Wednesday to practice her ballet to. Uncle Fester throws out moves for Wednesday to practice while also throwing axes with Pugsley, trying to hit the painting visible at the top of the staircase.
“Stiles dear, do you have any plans for the last weekend of this month?” Morticia asks as she glides into the room.
Stiles takes advantage of Gomez’s distraction to turn one of his bishops black. “Nothing besides the usual, I was going to help Grandmama make Acrimonium at some point, but I'm sure we'll do it before then.”
Grandmama finishes sharpening an axe and hands it to Uncle Fester, taking the one Pugsley handed her which had missed the painting and almost hit the candelabra instead. “It won't take long. I just need to have it sent to Dolores before the new moon. She has new neighbors moving in that are dreadfully perky. She wants to put some in the fruitcake she’s going to bring over to pull out their goth side.”
Morticia tisks. “How horrible, I’m sure Dolores will feel better after she uses the Acrimonium.”
Stiles nods his head in agreement, “Why did you want to know Aunt Morticia?”
“I’m participating in an art show that weekend. I thought it would be just wonderful if you came with me. I have some dear friends who will be there and it would be good for you to start growing your own social network.”
Stiles ducks to avoid the axe Uncle Fester accidentally sent flying towards his head before nodding, “I’d love to go.”
“Excellent! I feel inspired to paint something new for the art show.”
Gomez neatly takes Stiles’ King and walks over to Morticia, “Of course mia cara! But first, join me in a dance.”
⚜
Stiles arrives at Esme's shop before Wednesday and Pugsley's classes have finished and heads to the counter where Esme's only employee/apprentice is reading a book on auras and staring suspiciously at the cactus on the counter.
"Does Esme have any books on the history of magic work?"
The girl stops staring at the cactus to glance over at Stiles, "She should. Go to the last bookcase in the very back, they would be on the third shelf."
He nods in thanks and makes his way to the indicated bookcase. There are, in fact, many books on the subject. So he drags over a stool and begins to look through them.
An hour later he's narrowed it down to two books. Stiles stares at them, undecided. They stare back. One of these, he knows, Peter had once recommended to him. The other one Peter had said not to touch with a ten-foot pole. Which one was which? As he begins flipping through one of the books again, he grabs his phone. After a couple of rings, the person on the other side picks up.
"What?" comes the grumpy response.
"Hey Peter, which book was it that you thought the writer was 'terribly self-important, but had a good grasp on the mechanics of magic?'"
There's a pause and as Stiles waits impatiently he switches to flip through the other book, scanning the chapter titles and illustrations. "That doesn't narrow the options down much, most magic users are self-important. What else did I say?"
Stiles hums, "Well, compared to this book, you said that its contemporary was 'woefully under-researched, that the author was obviously embellishing the accomplishments of their own group', and you 'would have loved to corner him at a conference one day to make him eat his words'. Literally."
"Ah, in that case, I would have been deriding Marcus Callan. I would guess that Runework Through the Centuries is the other I had mentioned as being passably decent."
"Great, thanks Peter!" Stile hangs up, reshelves Callan's book, and checks the clock as he heads back to the front desk. The kid's classes should be done by now. He should check on them before they explode another hornets' nest. Not that Esme had minded that incident too much.