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07/21/2020 07:20 PM
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Little Tin God
Little Tin God Rembrandt/ 1593610 on a train West
April 1906
The final whistle blew as the train started to roar to life. Klaus Mikaelson had just nodded off to sleep when the jolting of the locomotive roused him from his sleep. He was momentarily stunned but gathered his wits about him. Over the centuries the passage of time and the methods of transportation changed quite frequently. He had to admit this trip so far out west was going to prove to be the true test. At least it was less smelly than a stagecoach.
Now fully awake, the Original decided to take advantage of the situation. Even though he was born with an activated werewolf gene, he was still a vampire. Klaus was still trying to find a way to break the curse binding his werewolf side. There were a large contingent of Native American shaman out west as well. Brandon Skyhawk, one of Klaus’ sires that actually liked him had sent him a telegram in New Orleans about a particular group that were also out where Madeleana told him the fertile land existed. This was going to be Klaus’ little sanctuary that he would keep from his siblings. They may never end up setting foot here, unless it was in a pine box with a dagger in their chests.
Klaus was grinning to himself when there was a knock to the door of his private car. It did bring him out of his plotting and conniving. “You may enter.”
A young boy wearing a white jacket and slicked back red hair stood in the doorway. “Excuse me sir. I’m here to ask what you’d like for lunch.”
Klaus grinned showing his dimples. He began to compel the lad. “Close the door and step inside.” His blue eyes started to glitter gold.
~*~
The main aisles of the steam locomotive had plenty of men, women and children that were all gathered for this trip out west that was going to last several days. The dining car in particular had men dressed in white coats with neat appearances to serve the passengers as the train traveled to California. The man in charge was tall in stature with radiant black hair with distinguished silver flecks all throughout. He actually wore an eye patch because he’d been a veteran of the Indian Campaigns of 20 to 30 years prior as a young man. To anyone who asked, he would tell them the fully detailed story of Custer’s Last Stand and how he’d been there as a boy when Crazy Horse rode into battle. He commanded the kitchen with respect and the boys worked for him were like a family.
In the dining car, a young lady sat off by herself casually drinking a cup of tea. Her hair framed her face and her cherubic features perfectly. She was a prime example of what history would call a Gibson girl. She heading to California to start a new life on her own.
Entering the car was a man who was obviously a Native American. He wore a simple charcoal gray suit. His long hair was pulled behind him in a neat braid that was keeping it out of everyone’s way. He had a simple straw hat on his head. The young man had gone east to study modern medicine so he could bring the knowledge back home to his people. The tribe had gathered all they could financial wise to send him to the white man’s school. He nodded at the young lady before he moved to take a seat at a table on the near side of the young lady.
The vet of the Indian Campaigns was not too happy to see the young man sitting there. He left the sanctuary of his position of authority to approach the young man. “You have no place here Indian.”
The young man was about to say something when a loud commotion occurred interrupting the entire dining car. The young man with red hair that had been serving the private cars was bumping into everyone going into and out of the dining car. He collapsed into the table that the young woman was sitting sipping her tea.
The young man was saturated in blood. Gurgling sounds came from the young man as he struggled to breathe. The blood that was coming from his mouth was frothy and bubbling. The Native American pushed his way toward the dying boy. He began to make a preliminary attempt to save the boy. He tore the cloth of his own coat trying to use the fabric to staunch the blood flow. “We’ve got to stop the blood flow. Get his head up so he can breathe!” The Gibson Girl had lifted the young man’s head to try and keep his airway as free as possible.
The older man was yelling at the man trying to save the waiter’s life. He was screaming obscenities and making a scene when the Native man was trying to save him. “You’re killing him! Let the doctor save him!”
The Native American clenched his teeth in anger. “I am a doctor you A.SS!” He growled still working on the boy trying to save his life. He turned to the older man to stand up executing a beautiful right hook to the older man staggering him backward and against the wall.
The death rattles of the young man made the room grow silent. The Native American covered in the young man’s blood turned back to see The Gibson Girl holding the dead young man’s head in her lap. He knelt beside the young man’s corpse once more. The boy’s head was turned revealing two punctures in his neck.
What the devil was going on here?
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07/21/2020 02:37 PM
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Once Upon a Time
Once Upon a Time Rembrandt/ 1593610 Co-written by Rembrandt and Fierce Heart
The encampment of Lamech, son of Cain was in full glory around an oasis in the Sinai Desert. Servants were tending to the herds of animals, as well as other business called upon by the Prince. He even had his clothing made from animal hides and stitched together by seamstresses. Other servants would prepare food and bring water in from the oasis. The Prince kept his own caravan far from that of his father, the demon Cain. On occasion Cain would visit and the Prince would usually end up battered and beaten by his father.
Lamech was an arrogant man who often lashed out at those around him. His golden locks were said to be spun by the gods themselves. Some even whispered that the Prince's mother had been the goddess Dagon. No one spoke of such things to the Prince for fear of his temper.
On this day, the final chieftain of a neighboring tribe was due to arrive to present his daughter to the Prince as a wife. So far all who had come were rejected because they were too complacent. The servants prayed that this one the Prince would approve.
Lamech was being bathed by servants in preparation for the ceremony. If he accepted her, then the marriage would take place seven days later. "Are they here yet?" He grumbled.
The female servant that had just washed his beautiful golden hair answered. "No my Prince, but soon."
He sighed visibly. "Surely another spineless twit who is afraid of her own shadow?"
"The Lady Adah is far from that my Lord." The female servant replied.
"We shall see, won't we?” Lamech wrinkled his nose in arrogance and disgust.
Adah could see the encampment from afar. It was like she imagined it, huge, beautiful and really nothing she imagined for her future. But of course she had no right to say anything, daughters of chieftains were as long as she could remember we’re “presented” for marriage. There wasn’t a chance to really get to know each other, it was more like a business than like something out of love. Adah hated it, hated it but she loved her father and she knew she had to do this, for him. Her two younger sisters weren’t allowed to come with them. Adah was sad about it, they were her best friends as long as she could remember and she needed their support.
The camels stopped and Adah was helped to get off the huge animal. Her blonde hair was hidden inside the cloth she was wearing around her head and face, you could only see her eyes. “Please behave, child!” her father said in an serious tone while servants were leading them to the place they would meet Lamech, son of Cain, her possible husband. Adah sighed. “I promise, father!”
In the tent of Lamech, one of the servants that worked in his stables entered. “Forgive me, my Prince. The Lady Adah has arrived.”
He stood from the bathwater allowing it to trail down his body. His servants began to dry his body. “It’s about time! Tend to the party’s needs until I arrive.”
“At once My Prince.”
Back in the tent, the Stewart of Lamech’s house approached Adah’s father. “The Prince has ordered the feast to begin. He will be arriving shortly.”
There were soon rich food all brought and presented to Adah and her family. Wild boar, goat’s milk, fresh fruits and wine all were presented in respect to the one who could possibly soon be their mistress.
Adah hated it with every minute more. She was quiet most of the time while the servants presented them food. It wasn't like their tribe was poor but they surely weren't able to afford food like this. Adah decided to eat some fresh fruits, cause they were looking really delicious. Slowly she pushed the cloth off her head and face, to be able to eat. Her blonde locks were visible now. While Adah was eating she looked around, a small part of her was curious of the Prince, of course she was even though he wasn't having the best reputation in the desert.
He was soon dressed in his finest royal blue robes with golden trim. He was wearing his best sandals to complete the ensemble. His golden locks hung in curls around his handsome features. He knew how handsome he was and he flaunted it. Arrogant and vain, the youngest son of Cain left his tent and moved to the tent where the presentation would be.
As he strolled inside, he received the praise from the servants that he felt he was due. He was the grandson of Adam the first man created by Yahweh Himself. "Yes. Yes. Now make your presentation Lord Jehoash." Lamech looked down his nose at her father and then made eye contact with her grinning.
As Prince Lamech walked inside, Adah knew two things for certain: He was attractive and she hated him. The way he was walking around as if he thought he would be Yahweh himself, how he treated his servants as if they were less worth than him. The blonde had really hoped he wouldn't be like she had heard but he was worse than that.
Adah wasn't grinning back at him, not even smile. She knew it wasn't good to look at him like that but she couldn't help it. Her father noticed it with a glance to his daughter and tried to ignore her. He bowed his head towards Lamech and then smiled widely. "Adah is my oldest daughter. She is very beautiful, kind at heart, she is my greatest joy. I know you've been searching for a woman to make your wife for a while now but.... please look at Adah. She would be perfect. My family and I do hope that you will accept her!" He said. Adah tried to look cool and neutral, she hated everything about this right now.
Lamech moved closer to Adah even as her father spoke. He began eyeing her as a piece of livestock. Mentally he began calculating how many children she could bear him. He ran his tongue over his lips in thought. “Yes, Lord Jehoash tell me if your daughter is undefiled.”
Of course he was referring to whether or not she was a virgin. He was known as a young man in his father’s house to have dalliances with his slave girls. He was far from a virgin himself.
Adah had always a lot of temper, and not only that, she had always problems with the fact that woman were actually less worth than men in their world. She knew she needed to accept it, it was normal but somehow it wasn’t seeming fair to her.
Lamech looked at her as if she wasn’t even a human being. It was not easy for her at all to stay still, to not say anything, to not move. She endured everything. She always told herself again and again that this was for her family, that she needed to do this for them. Adah had almost managed to calm down again as Lamech asked if she would be undefiled. The young girl was turning red but it was more because of anger. Before she could stop herself she slapped him right in his face. “Is this how you treat your possible wife, Prince Lamech? It’s disgusting how you treat not only me but everyone around you, I will tell you something. You are a prince but not better than any of us. Stop looking at women like they would be only things to you..!” She shook her head and turned around to look at her father then she walked straight out of the tent. She was in so much trouble but she couldn’t stay with him in one tent any longer.
There was a collective gasp from those in the tent when she spoke toward him with her temper. The sound of the flesh of her hand striking against his cheek echoed in the tent. He turned in the direction of the slap not raising his chin for a few brief moments. His temper was notorious as being on par with his father himself.
There was no sound and no servant was permitted to run after Adah. He rose his chin slowly. “I will take her. “ There was a red mark on his face from the slap. “Begin the preparation!” He declared loudly. A low grin curled his lips upward.
Lamech was in love.
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07/14/2020 06:47 PM
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The Cost of Freedom
The Cost of Freedom Rembrandt/ 1593610 Features Fierce Heart, Imperfect, Armani, Stoic and Demonia, Honorable mention to HOPE.
The roaring sounds of the hissing and snarling vampires still echoed in his ears. As he looked around the room, he realized that 1000 years of murder, chaos and utter destruction had all come to this. He was the great Niklaus Mikaelson. His sireline had been shattered by a vengeful shrew New Orleans witch in a child’s body. Now from all over the world, his sireline came for blood.
He offered no resistance. As long as they focused on him, Marcel’s bite on his brothers along with his poisoned sisters stood a chance at life as long as an antidote could be found. It was necessary to sacrifice his freedom so that those he loved would be safe. It was not an issue. He would do what it took for them to be saved. Even as they carried h off in chains to the Garden, he put up some struggle. They’d be onto the plan if Klaus didn’t fight them. So fight them, he did. He was chained in his own filth and blood all as a punishment for a lifetime of evil and terror spread not only in the New World, but across the European Continent. The mighty Niklaus Mikaelson had fallen, or so he let them believe.
~*~
He had no idea how long he’d been there. He didn’t know that Caroline Forbes had come with her daughters looking for him. Sacrificing his freedom for his siblings meant he couldn’t be there at a critical time for the one woman he loved more than words could describe. “What are you doing here with fading hope, Niklaus?” The voice of the Pale Mother came to him as his head was lowered. He had a chain around his neck and around his arms and legs. He smelled absolutely hideous because he’d not been allowed the conveniences that most took for granted in the 21st century.
He was deep within the spell of Papa Tunde's blade as he heard the voice of the ancient demoness. “How many times now have you come to me in this despair and depravity Madeleana? You’re nothing but a manifestation of my mind and my desire to remain sane.”
In the real world Hayley and Freya found Klaus bound with those chains surrounded by a boundary spell that was one of the most powerful ever cast. Both women were pressed by the condition that Klaus was in down in this pit. Today was his day to be free. They were not leaving without him. While they were working to revive and rescue Klaus, Elijah was serving as a distraction to Marcel even at the risk of his own life. Klaus had put his life on the line for them. It was time for them to repay him for what he’d done out of love. Freya started her own spell to get through to her brother by channeling Hayley.
Deep within the magical torment of Klaus' punishment, he was still facing the pain and his dwindling desire to fight. “Niklaus! What are you doing just sitting here? You have to fight! You have to pull that blade out! Do you hear me? Your family needs you! You have got to pull out the blade!”
Klaus was starting to hear his sister Freya with her chanting. They were here! Could he just be imagining things? For all this time he’d been wrapped in the world of pain and suffering because his freedom had been stripped from him. Klaus was on the brink of being lost forever. “Niklaus! Do it! Marcel is going to kill Elijah and Hayley if you don’t!”
Klaus looked down at his chest. The open wound was there. He could see the blade lodged in his chest. He reached into his chest. Digits penetrated his chest wall sending waves of excruciating agony race through his body. The cry came from his innermost being. The wail of despair grew louder as he began to pull harder on that blade. “Hope needs her father! Do it!” Madeleana was screaming at him feeding his desire to fight back and be free. The struggle was freedom was nothing that couldn’t be undertaken without a deep desire to do it. For so long Klaus had been left to his delusions with occasional stolen glimpses into reality because Marcel would pry Klaus for answers that the Original Hybrid wouldn’t give. As much as he had cared about Marcel as a son, Elijah was his brother. He couldn’t allow his brother to die. He’d already been without his daughter for the formative years of her life. He’d also promised Caroline he’d be there should she need him. He’d been here long enough.
As Freya kept chanting trying to free her brother, she heard him gasp for breath. The boundary had been broken. She immediately wrapped her arms around her brother. His bleary blue eyes met hers. He said nothing. She saw the bloody blade in his hand. “We’ve got to hurry. Elijah and Hayley need help.” She loaned her body to her brother to use as a crutch. Klaus still held the blade as they headed upstairs.
~*~
It wasn’t going well. Hayley had distracted Marcel enough to keep him landing crippling blows on Elijah. “Are you going to keep my daughter from her father, Marcel?”
“You think they’re your family, Hayley? They were my family too! Didn’t do me any good did it?” Marcel’s face turned monstrous as he turned his attention toward Elijah again. Before he could attack, the battered and bloody hand of the Original Hybrid buried the blade into the chest of the young man whom he’d saved himself nearly 200 years before. The sound of agony that came from the son he failed nearly destroyed his spirit.
The roaring sound of Marcel in agony was the only thing he focused on as Elijah took over as being his brother’s crutch. Freedom came for Klaus Mikaelson after all this time at the expense of someone he loved as a son. Now he had a second chance in the life of a child that actually shared his blood. That would be something he would ensure his daughter knew well. Freedom was a precious gift never to be taken for granted, not even if your last name was Mikaelson.
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07/04/2020 04:29 PM
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Rite of Passage.
Rite of Passage Rembrandt/ 1593610 Summer 998 AD
Mystic Falls
Features: Imperfect
“Niklaus!” The Pale Mother was a sister witch to his mother Esther. She was his refuge when his father Mikael was on one of his rampages. He’d grown up feeling more at home here than he did in his own home. She had smacked his hand when he stuck a finger in the bowl that she was mixing. “That’s for your brother. Henrik is finally a man now and it’s time to celebrate it!”
His long golden locks free flowed behind his head and down his back. The very middle child of the brood of children produced by Esther and Mikael, he was not nearly as gifted as Elijah when it came to being a warrior. Niklaus however had been gifted as a swordsman. He’d even bested Elijah a few times sending his big brother to the ground with a blade pointed to his neck. He grinned mischievous as he licked the mix from his finger he’d managed to scavenge from the bowl. “Oh this is good! Sweet bread?” He asked curiously.
She smirked at him with a knowing grin. Nothing had changed in the young man for over all this time. Perhaps some day, he’d remember who he truly was. The time wasn’t right however. Adah wasn’t here. One couldn’t have Lamech without Adah. For now, his memories would lay dormant and she’d remain ever vigilant ensuring that she knew where he was no matter what the cost. “You ever finish that gift for your brother?”
He laughed. “You’re as bad as Mother.” He wiped his finger off on a piece of cloth in the humble little cottage that was his second home. “It will be ready at the proper time. The party begins at sundown after all.” What concerned Niklaus was the fact that one member of their family was missing. He’d never had the privilege of meeting his sister who had died before he was born. But Finn, Elijah and Rebekah were all working on their gifts for Heinrich tonight for his birthday. Kol however had been gone for two summers. He’d reached his age of manhood and decided to strike out on his own. Niklaus missed his brother dearly and he knew that everyone else also did.
Madeleana placed a gently hand on Niklaus’ shoulder. “Kol knows that it’s Heinrich’s birthday. He’ll be here my Golden One. Have a little faith.” The baby of the house of Mikael was being heralded since he’d been born as the child of promise that several prophecies had spoken about amongst the witches. Little did any of them realize, save Madeleana alone that the Child of Promise was actually Niklaus. How that would be revealed was anybody’s guess. Mother Earth had her ways of making things in the darkness shine as brightly as midday.
“Niklaus! Niklauuusss!” The young voice of the babe of the house of Mikael was calling out to find his nearest brother. Finn and Elijah cared for him but Heinrich was closest to Niklaus and to Kol. “Where are you brother?” He called again with a lingering tone.
Niklaus heard his name being called. He kissed Madeleana on the cheek and dashed out of her cabin. The golden Viking lad with a slender frame emerged in the clearing meeting his beloved younger brother. He wrapped his arms around his brother in a proper hug lifting him from his feet. “Heinrich! It’s not time for your birthday party yet!” He laughed.
Heinrich’s entire countenance lit with joy upon being wrapped up by Niklaus. “I know it’s not!” He laughed heartily hugging his brother back as best he could. “Put me down Nik!” He was lifted in the air by his brother letting his toes dangle on the ground.
Niklaus reluctantly let his brother go back down to the ground and straighten out his new tunic. “Do you like it? Rebekah made it for me for my birthday!” He held up his arms to show the full extent of the new cloth. It was made from a soft skin of a doe and quite elaborate stitching. It had several runes on it. One of the runes had been the symbol of Mikael’s house. The elder brother didn’t recognize the other. “What is this rune?” He pointed to it on the right side of Heinrich’s new tunic.
“It’s the sign of a wolf.” The voice behind him was that of Madeleana once more. “That’s a rune signifying the wolves that are so prevalent here.” She knew the magical symbols well of course. She only supposed that Esther had drawn the symbol for her daughter. It was a charm to protect the boy from wolves. Madeleana had often given place to Ansel, the Alpha of the wolves when he sought to observe Niklaus from afar. Only Ansel, Madeleana and Esther knew of Niklaus’ true parentage. If it was discovered that she knew of this and had given aid to Ansel, then Mikael would be fit to be tied. It was not yet time however to pick that fight with Mikael. Madeleana had all the time in the world.
“Does that mean you’re going to take me to the woods to watch the men change on the next full moon Brother?” Heinrich’s innocent eyes glanced upward because Niklaus was so much taller than he was. “Please?” He begged.
“Heinrich, you know how Father has forbidden that! I cannot be party to you breaking his rules.” Niklaus had decided that he was going to observe them on his own when he could be sure that his brother wouldn’t follow him. He’d not told anyone but the chief of the wolves had come to him just a few nights prior to seek a private audience with him. Why the chief of this tribe wanted to speak with him was beyond his understanding, but as long as it was done in secret, why would it hurt? Perhaps there could be a peace brokered between them. It would be nice to live without fear for once in their lives. He held off agreeing to these terms because Kol was still out there in the world. If Kol would just come home, then everything would be so much better.
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06/20/2020 10:11 PM
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Hidden Truth/ mentions Imperfect
Father’s Day Drabble/Mentions Imperfect Hidden Truths Rembrandt/ 1593610 “Niklaus! Look at me!” The booming voice of the werewolf who had fought against those who attacked in the graveyard made the Original Hybrid stand completely still. No one had that much of an affect on him calling his name in over 1000 years of his existence, not even his mother Esther. It was a voice from his past that he had not heard since he was something much simpler than he was now.
The man with straight blonde hair looked as though he was in his late 40s to early 50s. He had the same blue eyes that were now closed on the young man who was taller and slender than he was. This monster before him was known as Klaus Mikaelson, The Great Evil incarnate. The older man only saw a child that needed the love of a father. “NO! You can’t be here. I saw you die!” Suddenly he was a boy again who had just found out that his life had been a lie. He was absolutely mesmerized and frozen in place.
With their enemies dispatched, the Ancient Alpha made his way toward the young man standing there. His son had been denied him centuries ago by the husband of the wife that he’d loved. He watched as the younger man stood in place. “I am here, Klaus. I am your father, Ansel. Mikael beat you and turned you into a monster. If I had been allowed to come near you and raise you, your life as a wolf would have been much different than it was.”
Klaus clenched his eyes tightly. Hot tears eked out from the thin flesh covering his eyes no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. The Ancient Alpha was here. Klaus felt a raging torrent submerge his soul. Esther had dared to lie to everyone and deny Klaus’ true self. He’d been forced to life under the iron grasp of the fierce Viking known as Mikael. He’d seen Mikael express tenderness to all his brothers and his sister. He had often hidden away from prying eyes and cried in his little sanctuary in the hollow of the White Oak, because he had been denied any scrap of affection by his father. The weak child with no hope of actually living into adulthood was the only blemish on the great house of Mikael the Destroyer. It took another ten years for him to find out the reason why he didn’t fit in the family. He was the product of an affair. Forbidden love between a witch and an Alpha Wolf resulted in his very existence. “You’re not here. You’re an illusion conjured by Esther to torment me!” He opened his eyes setting free the torrent that would flood his handsome features.
Ansel’s heart was full of love for the son that he had been denied to even hold in his arms as a child. When Esther had given birth to the child, his child, Ansel knew. Nature didn’t lie. He would watch from afar hidden from the Vikings with the help of the Pale Mother to observe his child and watch his growth. The years passed and he was still kept from interacting with his boy. His heart was so full of unspent love for his child. Even if Niklaus never knew who he was, Ansel would know. “I don’t know why she brought me back from the dead, Niklaus, but I assure you I am here.” He started to walk toward his son yearning to hold him even though he was a grown man.
Klaus shook his head. His mother had wanted to grant his siblings and himself a new life as she’d done to Kol and Finn. She wanted to put him in the body of a wolf to bond with his actual father and get the life that had been denied him. He tilted his head to the side as his heart was breaking. Suddenly he felt as though he was seven years old once more. He could feel the waves of love coming from the man. It was almost too much for him to behold. “You..can’t…” Klaus had so much more to consider now. Hayley had given birth to his child. Esther was searching for Baby Hope. He couldn’t let anything or anyone get near his child. “You aren’t here….” He insisted.
“I’ve watched you for centuries Niklaus. I saw how you tore across Europe and left men bloody and dead. I saw how tender you were to others in moments of compassion and care for those who were abused as you had been. I saw when the wolf girl allowed you to feel your unborn daughter’s first kicks.” Ansel wanted desperately to have a relationship with his son. He wanted to teach his son all that he’d never been allowed to know in his life. He walked toward where his backpack lay against a mausoleum wall. He reached inside and pulled out a sketch book. He held out the book to show Klaus the picture that Ansel had recently drawn. It was Klaus when he was a seven year old boy.
Klaus shook his head. “You’re too little too late. I am a monster beyond saving. And my daughter is dead. Your granddaughter is gone.” Klaus looked into his own eyes and saw a man that had been haggard and worn by the passing of time and the loss of a big part of his heart. This man was his actual father right here. After his hybrid side had been bound, he had fled to the wolf pack and tried to find his actual father. He remembered standing at the base of the pole that Mikael had used to impale Ansel 1000 years ago. For centuries, he’d lived with the incredible guilt that he’d not found Ansel quicker than Mikael had. That sight that day was the birth of The Great Evil.
Ansel felt his shoulders lower. “Klaus, you can’t deny blood. I can tell my blood is here and in that direction far away.” He pointed off in the direction where Baby Hope had been safely hidden. He wanted desperately to have Klaus trust him. He wanted to help his son since he’d been given this second chance at life.
When Klaus heard the declaration by the Ancient Alpha, he knew that this could only end in one way. His daughter was everything to him. The chance at having an actual relationship with his true father was greatly alluring, but he had to make a choice. That choice was a painful one to make. Would he make the choice of a father or would he stand as a son?
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06/16/2020 06:11 PM
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Homecoming 002
Homecoming Rembrandt/ 1593610 The atmosphere inside of Rousseau’s was casual. The bartender seemed to be an amenables sort. Klaus Mikaelson’s return to New Orleans was not one because of luxury or convenience. This place had been his home for two centuries. He had seen it change so much over that time period that one would not even dare to be able to describe it. He rested both his elbows on the bar looking out into the sea of humanity that had congregated in this bar. Social activity was always the best in a bar no matter if you were in America or in Europe. It was all that the same.
Klaus heard the woman behind him take care of her other customers and come back to him. She was making small talk just as every bartender did. Before there were psychotherapists there were bartenders. Some people talked to their bartenders easier than they did a therapist. Elijah’s friend Sigmund Freud was the champion of the new psychotherapy movement. Klaus was much more inclined to have a bottle of bourbon than he would unburden his soul to a stranger.
When she handed him the drink, he turned back around to face her. He casually slid the bartender a folded over 100 dollar bill as he reached for the glass. “Not exactly new. Just have been away from here for a few years.” It was a knowing smile because he realized how it would sound if he told her he was last here in 1919.
Klaus took the drink in hand and raised it to his lips. The liquid going down his throat was not the best he’d ever tasted, but not everyone could afford a 50 year old bottle of bourbon for instance like he could. “I imagine you see a lot of people around here.” In his experience of over 1000 years, he knew that bartenders even back in the old pubs in Europe knew everything about anything. He was counting on this woman being the same as all the others.
The heightened senses of the Original Hybrid were already on full alert. Katerina had given him that hint that this werewolf who supposedly was carrying his child was somewhere here in New Orleans. These Deveraux witches were going to have to be dealt with in a manner befitting the Original Hybrid. No one dared to presume to dictate anything to him. When they did, they ended up with their hearts laying on the ground next to their dead bodies. It was a calling card for the Original Hybrid. He had the power to make all creatures, including witches, afraid. He was brutal and he relished it.
1838
Charleston, TN
The American Soldiers acting on the orders of President Andrew Jackson were rounding up the Natives for a drive west. It was a way for the Indian lands to be taken from those who rightfully possessed them and sell them to those new European settlers in an effort to expand the United States of America. Jackson was a hard man who had been exceptionally cruel to the Natives in several campaigns he waged. There was so much blood on his hands that it actually helped win him the Presidency of the United States. These soldiers carrying out his orders were just as callous as they could be to these savages even beating those who would fall out of line. It was this scene that Klaus Mikaelson happened upon as he rode in on his horse.
The Original who had been based in New Orleans for over a century had gone on a trip heading toward Mystic Falls again for matters left only to himself. The land in which he was born was not an incorporated village or anything of the sort at the moment. The increasing number of settlers there according to the word he’d received back in New Orleans had unsettled him. He needed to go back to Mystic Falls. That’s why his trip took him into the mountains and hills of Tennessee. So far he’d enjoyed the quiet. The quiet was soon interrupted by the sounds of a scuffle.
There were three soldiers that were all striking this one particular brave with butts of their rifles and the bottom of their feet. Klaus watched the young man get hit repeatedly spraying blood everywhere. Every time he got up and tried to fight back, Klaus watched him get kicked down again. Finally the young man’s body couldn’t stand it anymore. He collapsed to the ground.
This infuriated Klaus. He found it indignant to the man and his spirit to beat him down like this. That last blow from the butt of the rifle made a cracking sound that Klaus immediately knew was going to kill the young Indian warrior. Klaus jumped off his horse and moved into action. His vampiric features were firmly in place. The sight of horror in the eyes of the soldiers only fed Klaus’ primal rage. He grabbed one immediately taking a bite of his neck and spitting out the man’s larynx to the ground. The gurgling sounds of his blood flowing were ignored by the Original and fell upon deaf ears. The next man charged at Klaus when he’d seen his comrade fall. He immediately was met with a hand that went through his chest. His last vision was the sight of this monster of a man holding his beating heart as he left this world another victim of Klaus Mikaelson. The third man was soon saturated with the smell of urine and human excrement as he ran away from the scene for his life.
Klaus left the one to flee on his own with no care for if the man brought back reinforcements or not. He’d wipe them all out should they be foolish enough to try him. Looking to the dying brave that lay in the middle of the grass, he felt compassion on the man that had the spirit of his ancestors with him. Klaus pushed back his sleeve taking a bite of his own flesh at his wrist. The blood flowed there like he had wanted it to do. The Original went to the man and lifted his head gently. “Here, drink this. Go on.” He spoke in soft tones to the man who was dying in his arms. “Come on lad. Don’t give up on me now.”
When Klaus felt the feeble actions of the dying man take in the blood that was offered to him, his countenance cleared. He looked like a handsome blonde gentleman of means once again. He cradled the head of the brave as he died in his arms. Soon, the young man would be reborn and Klaus would elaborate on the lesson that surrounded his birth as a vampire.
“Fear is always a great motivator.” Klaus spoke it to the young man who would eventually call himself Brandon Skyhawk. This sireling of Klaus Mikaelson would soon to prove to be yet another son figure to him that would be an invaluable ally in the years to come. Brandon learned as all did when it came to Klaus Mikaelson, fear was a very powerful tool that absolutely invaluable when used in the right way.
2013, New Orleans
Rousseau’s
Klaus turned back to the bartender smiling warmly. It was an incredibly predatory smile with the designs on how exquisite the deaths of these witches would be. “So tell me. Do you happen to know Jane Anne Deveraux?” Klaus knew he could be charming when he wanted to be. He also knew that you attract more flies with honey than you do vinegar. Hopefully this bartender would have the answers that he sought.
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06/07/2020 03:34 PM
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Raising Hope
Raising Hope Rembrandt/ 1593610 Featuring Fierce Heart and Progenitor, Mentions Ardent, HOPE.
Married life was agreeing rather well with Klaus Mikaelson. He knew why he hadn’t tried it before in all the years he’d been alive. It was because he hadn’t found the right woman until now. Caroline was everything to him and everyone could see that in all that he did. They were the perfect couple in everyway. Klaus had not been a believer in true love until he allowed his heart to be so completely captivated by the former Miss Mystic Falls herself Caroline Forbes, now Caroline Mikaelson. His beloved wife was off at the Salvatore School in her role as co-Headmaster of the school along with Alaric Saltzman.
The Salvatore School was the perfect place for his daughter Hope to learn more about her abilities as the world’s first and only tribrid. He supported it when Hope was a young teenager and he supported it now even more since he was married to Caroline. He’d do everything he could to help that school prosper and the supernatural youth there to be fully equipped for the changing world that would possibly involve vampires, witches and werewolves heading out into the stars some day. For now on this particular day, Klaus had kissed his wife goodbye that morning over coffee on the patio before she headed up to the school for her daily duties. Klaus had his own duties to tend to in regard to his winery in Napa Valley.
Wolfsbane was the name of the winery that Klaus had first purchased in 1906. It was on his way to California that he’d met and befriended another vampire by the name of Lorenzo St. John. Lorenzo became an employee at the winery for a time and was given sanctuary there any time he needed it over the decades. The man who operated the winery on a day to day basis was actually a werewolf himself. The task Klaus had given to a down and out werewolf who had fled from migrant camp in Southern California. It was his children and grandchildren who would run the winery for him with a generous stipend. They were also friendly to Lorenzo because it was what Klaus wanted. On a FaceTime call with Alejandro de Campos his current foreman, Klaus had a brilliant time with him. All was well. The two exchanged pleasantries as they always did. “Congratulations on the wedding boss. Did you get the gift from us?” Alejandro was a werewolf that was a shaman in his pack that was based in Napa Valley. Klaus was actually quite friendly to this particular pack who’s roots had actually extended back to the Spanish royalty that had settled in California centuries prior.
Klaus smiled back to Alejandro. “Yes! We did! Thank you Alejandro. It was quite generous! You shouldn’t have.” He and Caroline had received a bottle of wine from the Winery as well as trinkets of good luck and prosperity from Alejandro’s clan. No one knew just how kind Klaus had been to this pack. It was actually because of Klaus and his time in Cadiz in 1702 that Alejandro’s ancestor had even made it to the new world. It was a closely guarded secret that Klaus wasn’t even sure that Elijah knew about. He was about to discuss more business with Alejandro when his mobile phone went off. The number was coming up as Caroline’s. “Excuse me a moment. My wife is calling.” He grinned. He tapped the screen and put it to his ear. “Hello Love.”
Caroline Mikaelson had a look of intense worry on her face. One arm was folded over her chest. She was glad that Klaus had answered the phone. “Klaus, have you seen Hope?” Her blue eyes were darting back and forth as the students that were her closest friends were off scouring the grounds for the young tribrid. Pedro, the littlest witch was standing next to Caroline with a serious look on his face and arms wrapped around her leg.
Alaric Saltzman rejoined Caroline in the common room where she was making the call. “Nothing.” He told Caroline. “I have several witches working on a locator spell but this may take time. The vampires are going through the grounds at top speeds while the werewolves are on a run trying to find her that way.” This worried the Headmaster who was a second father to Hope. It wasn’t like her to just be completely gone like that. He didn’t want to think of what could have happened to her.
Klaus could overhear the conversation between Caroline and Alaric. “What do you mean my daughter is missing?” He didn’t like this not one bit. He turned to the FaceTime connection on his computer. “I’m sorry Alejandro. I’ll get back to you later.” The Original Hybrid stood up from his seat and started toward the room that Hope used when she was visiting Klaus at home or needed some time away from school. “Tell me what’s happening, Caroline.”
“That’s just it Klaus. She was missing from all her classes and no one has seen her. We’re scouring the ground here. You don’t think she’s at our house do you?” Caroline was just as worried as Klaus was especially since Klaus had powerful enemies but so did Hope.
Klaus opened the doors to Hope’s bedroom. It had not been slept in from what he could tell. “No. She’s not here. You keep looking. I’ll call Hayley.” His jaw clenched as fear raced through his body. Had The Hollow returned? He’d thought that The Hollow had finally been extinguished when he had died in New Orleans, but anything was truly possible.
“Alright Klaus. I’ll keep you posted. I love you.” She told him before disconnecting the call. Caroline turned to Alaric to help continue the search on their end. She would do anything to help find her stepdaughter.
“I love you too.” Klaus ended his call. He didn’t relish having to make this next call. He consulted his contacts and found Hayley’s number. It rang for a few moments before Hope’s mother picked up the other end. “Sorry to disturb your bliss with my brother, Hayley. We have an urgent matter that requires your attention. Our daughter is missing. I need your help to find her.” He hated to tell her something so devastating over a phone call, but what else could he do? Klaus still had the phone pressed to his ear as he started toward the front door of the mansion in which he and Caroline made their home. He was headed to the Salvatore School to try and pick up his daughter’s trail from there. Hayley had a right to know that Hope was missing. He didn’t doubt whatsoever that she’d join in the search. Klaus could say a lot of things about his daughter’s mother, one of them was that she loved Hope more than her own life. “She was missing from all her classes today and can’t be found at the school. She is not here in her bedroom. Caroline and Alaric have several students looking for her there. I intend to go to her room at the school to see what I can find there. Come as soon as you can.”
For the first time in his life, Klaus Mikaelson was absolutely terrified. He was going to kill anything or anyone that would try to abscond with his daughter. Hope would be returned to him soon. The perpetrator of this crime would be torn to shreds by him and if Hayley was lucky, he’d leave some for her as a new chew toy.
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06/04/2020 10:01 PM
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Death in His Eyes
June BL Drabble, Feat Armani Death in His Eyes Rembrandt/ 1593610 It was simple to him. Betrayal by those he cared about the most invoked his most primal rage. No one was closer to him than Rebekah and Elijah. Having Rebekah’s betrayal revealed by Genevieve was even more hurtful to him. For nearly a century he’d lived under the assumption that Mikael had just found them by chance driving them from their home of two centuries. Klaus had played it so careful. He’d been on top of all the latest news of Mikael’s whereabouts with a vigilant eye. Then to suddenly have him show up the night of the Opera in 1919 had always left him with questions. Now those questions had answers.
Hayley was close to delivering his child. Soon he’d be a father to his own little wolf who would be completely dependent upon him. He couldn’t allow anyone, not even his sister to hurt him or to allow anything to happen to his child. Klaus, Rebekah and Elijah had been subject to a boundary spell by the witches of New Orleans keeping them in Lafayette Cemetery. That was fine by Klaus. He had the White Oak Stake. Rebekah would die tonight. He started to stalk the cemetery looking for his sister. Payment was due and he intended to collect.
Within the maze of the cemetery, Rebekah ran as far and as she could. She reached an outer wall seeing freedom just within her grasp. Rebekah sped for the wall but was stopped short. A boundary spell kept her locked in with her brothers. For a choice she’d made nearly 100 years ago, she was about to die. Rebekah was absolutely terrified.
She’d seen how ruthless he could be when faced with betrayal. He had been relentless and brutal. There was usually nothing left of those who betrayed Klaus Mikaelson. She couldn’t let this happen. Self preservation took ahold of her and a desperate plea to their brother Elijah came as he found her first in her escape attempt. “Don’t let him kill me Elijah! It was a terrible mistake! Please Elijah!”
Elijah Mikaelson was standing behind Rebekah holding her firmly as he felt her knees buckle. “Stay hidden Rebekah. No one is going to die tonight.” He released her and took off into the heart of the cemetery.
Tucked inside his jacket, The Original Hybrid was indeed on the hunt. He stepped with deliberate purpose and a snarl on his lips. “REBEKAH!!” His voice echoed through the Cemetery. His senses were heightened and the frightening mask of the Original Hybrid with darkened optics highlighted by the veins showing through the skin. “REBEKAH!!!!” He came around the corner right into the Noble Stag himself.
“Niklaus. Think of what you’re doing. The anger and the rage you’re feeling is over something that happened nearly a century ago.” Elijah Mikaelson had always been a voice of reason to his brother. Klaus had not always listened to his brother. He’d even daggered Elijah as recently as a few months ago as a /good will/ gesture to Marcel. “Niklaus?”
Klaus’ anger and rage were still violently evident. He finally growled in his reply to his brother. “ENOUGH!” Klaus waved his hand in front of his brother. “All because our sister couldn’t stand me, she arranged to bring Mikael here to New Orleans to kill me Elijah! What are you going to do Brother? You're either with me, or against me .”
“I am not against you Brother. I will not allow you to kill our sister!” Elijah’s own eyes grew a dark onyx as he was protective over Rebekah. His fangs were bared. It was not uncommon for the brothers to fight. The older Mikaelson began to charge his brother. Klaus met his brother charging at him with unquenchable anger. The fight was on and it was loud.
While her brothers were loudly arguing in the middle of the Cemetery, The female Original Vampire tried to make her way toward the gates to get away from her brother. Klaus’ rage was notorious. She’d seen it more times than she cared to admit over the years. He’d daggered her multiple times in her life when he was angry, but this time the look in his eyes was more intense. His anger brought fear to her very soul. He wasn’t going to stop until she was dead. The shouting stopped. Klaus was on the hunt and she was the prey.
Klaus’ voice echoed once more with a wounded growl. Elijah wasn’t dead. Klaus had no death wish for his brother. It was Rebekah’s turn to die. Extended digits wrapped around the length of the White Oak Stake. He held it firmly in his hand. His lip was bloodied, his hair was disheveled and his fangs were still bared. “Come on Little Sister. Let’s have a little chat.” He spat the word out as he made that turn toward the front gate.
Rebekah cowered by the gate. Klaus had just spotted her there. Ferocity made his steps pick up as he honed in on his baby sister. Her eyes were a dark onyx on their own. She turned to face her would be executioner when the voice of reason echoed back in her direction. “Niiiikkklausss!” It was Elijah with a torn suit jacket and no tie. He looked as though he had been in a fight.
Klaus turned toward Elijah. Over his brother’s shoulder Klaus saw the first rays of the morning light. Behind him he heard the gate open and the rush of wind as Rebekah left the cemetery with her full vampire speed. Klaus glared at his brother. “This is not over Elijah. Remember that.” Klaus himself disappeared with all the speed of Original Hybrid possessed.
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05/29/2020 01:18 AM
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The Prince and the Hybrid
feat Fierce Heart and Imperfect. The Prince and the Hybrid Rembrandt/ 1593610 Back home again in Mystic Falls, Klaus couldn’t sleep. Caroline was sound asleep in their king sized bed. Klaus attributed part of this to jetlag. After all, he and his new wife just arrived back from Easter Island late last night. It was absolutely glorious to spend two weeks in Paradise with the most beautiful woman in the world. Caroline Mikaelson was her name now. He grinned as he thought of how she got this distinct gleam in her eye and even started to squeal when she heard the name. This amused him to no end.
As she lay sleeping, he had held her in his arms until she fell asleep. She’d been having headaches. Truth be told, he was also having them. It was odd since he was The Original Hybrid and she was still a vampire. This was something that he didn’t have and he shouldn’t either. He looked down at the bracelet he wore. It had been given to him before his nuptials more than two weeks ago. Caroline had one that was its equal. Ever since they started wearing these things, strange things were happening to them. Caroline had had a vision of him holding a baby but wearing clothes that were not his own. He had a vision of her in the finest silks from the Orient holding that same baby. It was their baby. He couldn’t understand it. He didn’t know why this was happening. He just knew that Madeleana knew damned well what was happening to them. He was going to have to have a word with her. This was starting to overwhelm both him and Caroline. Answers needed to come and soon.
Klaus turned his gaze to the view of the countryside of Mystic Falls that he and his wife had from the window of the master bedroom of their home. The landscape had changed from the ten centuries since he was first born. The Viking settlement was not too far from his present location. He looked toward the tree line. So much of this area had been drastically changed in all these years. He also knew that much of this had not changed in the slightest. He exhaled slowly. Curled fingers and a bent elbow rested against the door frame. Messy blonde curls fell into his clear azure hues. Klaus knew he wasn’t going to get any sleep any time soon. He turned from his gaze into Mystic Falls to his sleeping bride. He had promised her a 500 year honeymoon. He intended to keep that promise. They were going to have to have a sit down moment with Madeleana soon so they could make sense of this madness that seemed to have assaulted them. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to her sleeping brow. Klaus needed something to help him sleep.
Making his way down the stairs, Klaus was only wearing a pair of pajama bottoms. His bare feet struck the soft carpeting padding silently down into the study where he kept his liquor. He found the brandy that he kept around for Elijah since it was his favorite. He uncorked the decanter and began pouring some into a snifter. He swirled around the liquid as he walked toward the chairs in the study. He sat in the one he’d claimed as his own with brandy in hand. A million thoughts raced through his mind. Many of them had to do with his new blended family with Hope and the Saltzman twins. So many witches under one roof started to gnaw at Klaus. He’d get through this. He was Klaus Mikaelson. He’d been through worse… but not by much.
Klaus brought the snifter to his lips. What actually worried him more were these resurfacing memories. He sipped the fragrant liquid. It was warm and soothing down his gullet. In these brief snippets it was almost like the world was new. Madeleana had appeared in one of these memories. She looked far younger than he remembered her even from when he was a child over 1000 years ago. Something just was so wrong about it, but yet so familiar. He finished off the brandy in the snifter. Glancing at the empty glass, he could feel his eyelids drooping. His head leaned back against the chair in which he was sitting. He didn’t realize his eyes had shut when they did.
~*~
The steady breeze wafted into the tent bringing with it the fragrant aroma of the latest dung piles left over by the camels on the other end of the family encampment. He jerked awake reaching out wildly to push himself up from the pile of pillows that he’d decided to nap on just so he could get away from all the nonsense that he’d had to endure for the past week. “Good, you’re awake.” Walking into his tent was an obviously female figure with her head covered in a traditional covering. He could see the hints of red hair showing from the outside. When she lowered her covering, he immediately knew who she was. He stood staring for just a moment. “Lamech, you’re drunk again aren’t you?”
He reached for his clothing patting it. He glanced down at the blue and gold fabric that covered his form. He was dressed as a prince should be. “Madeleana?” He asked with a curious lilt to his voice. He had no idea what was going on right now. His insanely blue eyes looked at the bottle laying empty beside him.
She laughed gently at him. “You really have completely lost consciousness this time, didn’t you Little Brother?” She handed him a bowl with water and a towel. “You might want to make yourself presentable. Father expects you to take a bride soon. Jehoash is bringing his daughter to present to you. This is the final chief for miles that has a daughter of marriageable age. You’ve rejected every tribe within a 100 mile radius.”
He took the towel and bowl. His hands dipped into the water with the towel. “They were all ignorant sows, Sister.” He muttered washing his face as he was instructed. They were all women that didn’t appeal to him. He hoped that Jehoash and his daughter were more acceptable.
“Oh I am certain that Jehoah’s daughter is no sow Lamech.” She started carried the other fabric in her hands to an area behind a silk screen. “You should dress appropriately for this meeting. Uncle Abel brought you some silk from the Orient. You should wear it. He’s going to be present when Jehoash arrives since Father is out in the desert.”
The young man stood to his feet staggering a bit going to the area behind the screen. “Do we know a name of this latest offering that will be brought before me?” He started to disrobe behind the screen.
A knowing smile covered Madeleana’s features. “Her name is Adah.” She began to clean the mess that he’d left behind. An extra gleam came from her eyes. “I have a feeling you’ll like her.” She actually practically giggled as she was folding the linens.
He was standing behind the screen bare as the day he was born. Something caught his eye. “Adah? Hm…” He pondered aloud. He saw a brilliant blue bracelet on his wrist. His head canted to the right studying it more carefully.
~*~
Klaus sat bolt upright in the chair in the study sending the snifter in his hand to the ground in a fit of shattering glass. His blonde curls were matted to his head. That dream was so vivid. He rubbed his temple. “What the devil…?” He muttered. A swatch of gold and blue cloth lay in his lap. He wrapped his elegant digits around the fabric. This was not here a moment ago. It was what he was wearing in his dream. He clutched it to his hand as he stood to his feet. Klaus practically ran up the stairs again to the master bedroom.
Caroline was still asleep thankfully. He breathed a sigh of relief from deep within his body. Klaus found his mobile device on the charger. Still clutching the linen swatch in his hand, he took a photo and sent it to Madeleana with a simple message.
Who are Lamech and Adah? Why don’t you stop by for tea and tell Caroline and I all about it.
He hit send on the message. He dropped into the chair behind him. Klaus was mentally and physically exhausted. He was still clutching that fabric in his hands as he drifted off to sleep in the chair in the master bedroom.
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05/20/2020 12:44 AM
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On Raven's Wings
On Raven’s Wings Rembrandt/ 1593610 featuring Armani, The End and Queen Bee
989 AD Mystic Falls
The blonde boy of eight summers was still disheartened by how much his own father glared at him with hate in his eyes. As The Pale Mother spoke to him, young Niklaus listened intently. Elijah stood beside his brother still nothing more than a child himself but not the victim of his father’s anger. “Elijah!” The voice of Mikael carried across the camp. “Where are you boy?”
The boy with hair the color of the night looked to his younger brother. He didn’t want to leave him, but the way the Pale Mother was so protective of Niklaus, he had nothing to worry about. Elijah’s gaze drifted in the direction of their Father’s voice and back to Niklaus. “You stay here. I’ll see what he wants. Alright?”
The smaller boy nodded with tears flowing down his cheeks. He loved his brother deeply and always felt safe when he was around. He reluctantly let Elijah go and wrapped small arms around the waist of The Pale Mother. He tried to bury himself in her skirts. He couldn’t watch Elijah run off in that direction. “Elijah is so brave and strong. I want to be like him.” He told her. His voice cracked with emotion. “I wish I had something I could do right.” He had nothing of his own. He was not a warrior like Elijah. He wasn’t a witch like Finn. What was he? Was anything ever going to suit him?
He wiped his tears on her skirts being the child he was. Too much fell upon this young boy and he had no idea why or the reasons behind it. He did have one thing he did well. When Rebekah was fussy or had taken ill in any fashion, the only one that could bring her peace was Niklaus. The golden girl who had been the only living daughter of Esther and Mikael absolutely adored her big brother. Niklaus doted on baby Rebekah and spent a great deal of time with her. In a way, Niklaus felt as though all the love that Elijah had shown him, he’d passed along to Rebekah. Even Mikael noticed Rebekah favored Niklaus over him. The boy didn’t care. Rebekah's love as a small child was so perfect and pure. He vowed even at 8 years old he’d die to protect her.
Finn approached The Pale Mother and Niklaus standing there near the Great White Oak. “I found everything you needed. It’s in your cabin. Mother’s taken ill again. I think she’s going to have another baby.” The eldest living child had been around long enough to recognize when his mother was going to have another child. “This one will be hard on her since she’s older now.” Their mother passed along much of her magical knowledge to Finn. He had found he had a talent for it. In all likelihood, Finn was right. After all, Esther was still in childbearing age.
It all was nonsense to Niklaus. He’d been uninterested essentially when Kol had been born. When the boy was born however, he did try to mimic both Elijah and Niklaus. It wasn’t that he hated Kol, the child between him and Rebekah was often a bit spirited. Niklaus could not keep up with him physically. He attributed it to how small he was. Kol was more muscular and active than Niklaus was even at that early age. Mother told Niklaus that it wouldn’t be that way forever. He only hoped that was true.
Niklaus wondered what it was task his eldest brother had helped Madeleana accomplish. “What are you talking about brother?” He asked Finn curiously. Most of the time Finn had been too busy with his tasks to even take notice of Niklaus. Finn had been born in the land beyond the sun before the family came here. Finn was practically a grown man. Of course he’d have no time for a sickly and pathetic baby brother.
Finn actually gave his brother a tender smile. Niklaus would not find out until much later just how much his eldest brother had worked on his behalf or how he loved him all along. For now, the expression of Mikael’s oldest son gave a glimmer of hope to the boy that felt like there was none. Maybe he wasn’t such a vile creature if big brother Finn actually gave a damn about him. “You will find out Little Brother. Just be strong.” Finn nodded at Niklaus before turning back toward the direction of the shack with a red door.
“Finn doesn’t hate me does he?” Niklaus made a startling revelation for one of his tender years. He knew already that Elijah and Rebekah loved him. Kol wasn’t sure yet that playing in the mud with the pigs was a bad thing yet. Niklaus lay his golden locks upon her hip. He was a child desperate for affection from a father who despised him and a mother too busy to give too much attention without arousing undue suspicion about the full scope of her activities.
Niklaus was too young to have some responsibilities while too old to be considered a baby. He was right in the middle of all the children born. He knew they had a sister before Finn that had died. So before him was Finn and Elijah. After him was Kol and Rebekah, not to mention a possible new baby to add to this Viking Family. Niklaus as the middle child of the brood was looked over and cast aside. It broke his tender heart that he’d been treated in such a manner. He thought he was going to have to just live with it. He was soon to find out just how wrong he was.
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