I've tweaked a few lines here and there from the original posting, but no major changes. As someone very wise once told me, good writing is never done – only due. That being said, if anyone has suggestions or wants to point out moments that really resonated or felt disconnected I'd love the input.

Thank you so much for the kind reviews already. It's always nice to receive such a warm welcome from new fandoms. Hope the rest of you enjoy the story and please feel free to review with thoughts, ideas, comments, or just random geekery that you feel is important!

Also, I advise you to do a little research on the title. No, I'm not going to tell you what it means. Look it up and you'll remember the words – consider that my free 'How to Improve Your Vocabulary" lesson of the day ;)

I'm pretty sure EVERYONE knows Moonlight Sonata, but you should check out Albinoni's Adagio in G Minor as well. Very interesting piece and fits the mood of this story.

Finally, I write rather quickly and post first drafts. Beware of typos and repetitive thought! You've been warned.

XOXOXOXOXO

Ingrid sat on a bench in the back garden. She loved the way the garden took on a whole new personality at night. There was something different about it than it's more cheerful and bright day-lit counterpart. It was more like her right now – dark and brooding, with crevices full of emptiness and confusion. The mask the day time always warranted was gone for both she and the garden.

The haunting melody of Albinoni's Adagio in G minor floated through the air from the small speaker attached to her phone. The technology was comforting, something mundane and non-magical, though she might have tweaked the sound and amplification just a bit. The music was its own brand of magic that she couldn't help but enhance to its true potential.

Waving her hand, her movements loose and effortless, she conjured up the image of a pond in front of her. Ingrid watched as the lights from the sky blurred their way into existence on the surface of the water and smiled sadly. She rested her chin on her knees and took a deep breath. The small of jasmine floated from somewhere nearby and she smiled at the small comfort.

Something wild and fierce was awakening, fighting to survive. Recognizing that brought her peace and allowed Ingrid to separate from the pressure she felt the rest of the time. She loved her family, but she was weary of their needs. She was weary of being the constant. It was only in moments like this, when she truly felt like she was on the verge of breaking down that she recognized her own fire and strength. Even if she wasn't ready to tap into that strength, it was still exhilarating.

Ingrid relished these moments where she could be alone and not have to pretend to be strong. Maybe that was its own kind of strength and resilience, breaking from her norm and allowing herself to acknowledge the parts of her that weren't so confident and put together. It was easier to put some distance between all the turmoil and strain. She felt like she could breathe when she was alone, it was the only way she knew how to feel safe.

"Ingrid? What are you doing out here?" Wendy asked. Even though it was well past midnight, there was enough moonlight that she could make out the familiar form of her eldest niece. She'd been out late and came in the back way, wanting to check on some of the plants she'd added to the well-stocked garden. Her sister had kept enough of the right plants around to have a strong base for their work, but there were other, less common, plants that would be needed in the coming months.

Ingrid looked over her shoulder lazily. It was the kind of reaction that had always worried Wendy. The more calm and impassive her niece got the more she started to disconnect from the people close to her. It was a defense mechanism she'd always used – no matter the lifetime. "Just thinking. I like it out here at night," she answered as Wendy came and sat down next to her.

Wendy studied her for a moment, but Ingrid had gotten used to that. Her mother may have considered Wendy reckless, and maybe she was in the heat of the moment, but the rest of the time her aunt was more than observant. Sometimes it unnerved her how well the older woman could read her, but her ability to always say the right thing usually quelled that. "I'd hoped this time around you wouldn't be so much of a brooder," Wendy said teasingly as she grabbed Ingrid's hand.

Wendy looked over at her, surprise and offense all over her face. "I'm not a brooder; I'm just enjoying the stillness. Everything has been so hectic lately that it just takes some getting used to." She wanted to open up and tell her aunt the truth. She wanted to explain how she was so overwhelmed that it felt like she might snap in two at any moment. But that wasn't Ingrid. She didn't open up about her problems, at least not to that degree. She dealt with her emotions on her own.

As much as she loved Freya, her sister was filled with such need that she tended to stay at the hub of their families focus. It wasn't intentional, it was just who she was. Romantic, dramatic, bold, and headstrong were what made her Freya. Ingrid couldn't help wonder if they also made her too. Was she more than just a response to her sister's needs, her mother's distraction and distance, or the magic that was in them all?

Wendy smiled sadly as she watched her niece get lost in her thoughts. After a moment, she squeezed her hand – bringing her back to the present. "The sad music, the moonlight and the stars – you're brooding. It's not anything to be ashamed of, it's just part of who you are. You've always been a bit of a sad soul, but that's what makes you appreciate and enjoy the good times with so much life and zest. It's like you're tuned into the sadness and happiness on a higher level than the rest of us. That's why people turn to you for the truth, they know you see it."

Ingrid crinkled her forehead in confusion. "Then why do I feel so lost? I can't escape from the dark reality that has built up in my life – in all our lives. It feels like I'm trapped; the walls are closing in, and I'm the one stuck inside. Everyone else is finding purpose and direction, but I can't adjust to the changes. If I can see the truth, why can't I find mine Aunt Wendy?"

"I want you to listen to something," Wendy said, as she gestured towards the music and it changed. The strings melted away to the sounds of a low piano falling into Moonlight Sonata. "Don't give me that look; you've always loved this song." She let go of Ingrid's hand and wrapped her arm around the younger woman drawing her close. "Those low chords, those are me and your mom, always working against one another to create something whole. And those repeating notes there that keep driving the song forward, that's Freya. She's a constant steady melody all her own that keeps everyone in rhythm and focused, even if that rhythm happens to be a bit of a speedy whirlwind. It's like the theme of the whole family, her movements and energy."

She felt Ingrid stiffen in self-consciousness and chided her, "Wait for it." A few beats passed and a higher melody broke out. "Hear that? That's you. Higher than us all. It's like that nervous energy of yours come to life. Nothing traditional or logical, it takes on its own personality and grows throughout the song. It starts out shaky and scared, not even blending with the rest of us-"

"Out of place," Ingrid murmured with quiet resolution.

"Oh honey, it may start out seeming that way, but listen it always finds its own way to make the song something more. That melody that doesn't quite fit, it's what brings everything together. It makes the other parts stronger and change to follow it. Those notes that don't fit are what draws the others in and makes them want to do better, be better. That is you Ingrid; it always has been.

"You start as this wide-eyed innocent girl trying to convince yourself that you're not something more, but by the end you've always exceeded the potential of us all as well as what you've shown in previous lives. You never stop growing. You're strong and you're smart and you're powerful, you just need to allow yourself to realize it."

Ingrid hadn't even fully processed what her aunt said, but she knew that it wasn't something she was ready to accept. Even if a small part of her felt it was true and wanted her to believe in it – believe in herself. "But I don't want to be in the spot light. I loved my life. I never minded that Freya was the one that everyone knew. I knew who I was and I was okay with that. I don't want to be more. I just want to be safe. I want things to go back the way they were. I want to feel like I know myself again."

Wendy nodded, really beginning to understand that Ingrid hadn't just been nudged out of her comfort zone – she had been thrust into something that was terrifying to her. She could kill her sister for letting Ingrid become so subdued. In this life, Ingrid was so used to Freya being the center of everything that she didn't even realize she could be a part of that - that she deserved it.

"Come here," she said drawing the younger woman to her and kissing the top of her head. "We can never go back to the way things were. I'm sorry, but that's the way it will always be. As much as you may disagree with me for saying this, I'm glad you can't go back to the way things were. You may not want it yet, but you deserve so much more than what you've been living this time around. You never, never, have to settle for something less. Just give it time baby, things won't seem so scary then."

There was so much Ingrid wanted to say, but she stayed quiet. Leaning against the other woman, she allowed the comfort to ease her. Maybe being vulnerable wasn't something she had to do alone anymore.