Looking for Something

2012

She could have easily walked through this facility as brazen as you like. Break a few necks, rip out a few hearts, no one could trouble her. Actually the guards did have guns, but she might be just quick enough to avoid the bullets. The moonlight ring did give her a distinct advantage, but what would be the point in destroying these people. They slaved away in this frigid tundra, carefully organising samples to survive anything. You had to appreciate such dedication, even if it was something that may be completely useless.

Nature had to find a way to survive and continue the natural order and this was how humans chose to play their part. Anyway, she wasn't here to wax on. She spilled passed guards and scientists, which was quiet impressive wearing such thick, rustling clothing, and made it to the plant archive. Trees. Indigenous to the Americas. To North America. The Appalachian Mountains. Piedmont. Central Virginia. And down the alphabet until, ah Quercus alba. She didn't pick out just any, but a sapling mysteriously preserved from 1912 AD. Most humans didn't know why, not that it mattered to her mission. Carefully taking a cutting, she replaces the sapling and was out within minutes.

2023

The waves of anger were almost palpable through the phone. Elijah rolled his eyes at his brother's petulance; he thought dealing with a toddler would have given him some maturity. Then again he hadn't learnt any raising Marcellus, though Marcellus was quite a serious teenager, unruliness did not become him until much later. He was similar to Elijah himself at that time. Elijah allowed himself a smile, he was very proud of the boy he had helped raise into a man. Still Elijah heard not a peep from across the line.

"Should I be expecting a reply Niklaus or shall I just wait for it when we next magically convene?" Again, no reply. He truly wished Hope would not be as petulant a teenager as Niklaus was as an adult. A ferociously powerful teenage witch could put herself and others into a world of trouble. But then so could Niklaus once the hormones kicked in and the eyes began to wonder. He had been fatally protective of Rebekah whenever she became close to a man. How much worse would he be with his daughter? It would hardly do to have a bloody trail of pre-teens and teens. Elijah frowned at such a thought. How could he think that of his own brother? He may be many things, but not that, never that.

"Nikl-"

"Yes brother, my heart still beats. Well… Anyway, to business. I must thank you for being so thorough, although you might have informed me of your plan."

"We agreed that the fewer people who knew, the better."

"We?" Klaus drew out the syllable as if pulling a rubber band taut.

"Freya, Rebekah and myself."

"But I was not to know. I could not be trusted."

"As you well know we trust you implicitly, however secrecy was paramount. Who knows what manner of villain might have crawled out of the woodwork. We have stopped all attempts upon you, they have thought to come with juggernauts or put contingences in place. We were being cautious. I thought you would have been proud, brother, taking a leaf out of your paranoid book."

"So now we resort to insults."

Elijah sighed, slipping out of his jacket to lay it across the arm of the sofa. He did not especially like that navy double breasted number, but Chamonix appeared to approve. It still surprised him that his relationship had lasted so long: three years almost. Not only because of the incredibly high rate of mortality of those around his family, but because he would never have gotten involved with a woman whose name doubled as a location. Of course he was not trying to be a snob with that thought, but he considered it a universal standard, although one he had dismissed now. The heart was certainly a peculiar and splendid thing.

"I have delivered glorious news unto you and all you can do it start an argument. Perhaps you should be grateful that we have cleared a path for your return. Now, will you be coming back or extending your exile?"

"Self-imposed exile." Klaus paused, more than likely for dramatic effect, then slowly continued, "I suppose my daughter would like to see her aunts and uncles, though I will have to discuss this with Hayley. Schools are not even on holiday."

"You do that now, listen to others' opinions? Niklaus, you astonish me." Elijah very nearly chuckled. "Very well. Preparations will be made for your arrival. Easter break, I assume."

"Winter actually, we're no longer in Brazil."

Freya slipped down to the sofa, cradling her tumbler. For the hundredth time this year she thought of the family as she swirled the amber liquid in the glass. Living with these people is going to destroy my liver. Elijah had called Klaus earlier in the afternoon, the first time they had spoken in real life, if not face to face, since the latter had disappeared. Of course they didn't know where they were but it's not like they were off the grid, as the family had discovered five years ago. Niklaus Mikaelson would not allow his daughter to be a 'socially inept dolt'. Thus Hope went to school. Freya missed her little niece. Missed actually being with her, even though she only knew her for a few months. She missed all of them, but also slightly dreaded their return. Well she did not dread Hope's return.

Freya would love to say she was not a little fearful of them, but it was impossible not to feel a cold sliver down her spine and the spiky, hot glow of trepidation in her gut whenever a supernatural being was around. She wondered if anyone else felt the same. Of course she was a supernatural being herself, but compared to vampires and werewolves she was fragile. A witch could easily bring anyone to their knees in seconds, but that was useless if your enemy moved quicker than you could think. Gulping down the whiskey, she refilled the glass. Even though it had been more than a millennium, the fear was still there, but now she used it to fuel her as she did battle.

It did not particularly help when that emotion coupled with the wrath of her siblings, especially Klaus and Kol. Speaking of which Klaus and Hayley would be none too pleased when they learnt that she had been teaching Hope. They had chosen to tell their daughter about her heritage on her eighth birthday and Klaus said she took it surprisingly well. Freya had been surprised as well and only realised the reason behind her calm demeanour at the next family meeting.

To be able to communicate with Klaus without leaving a trail in the real world, Freya devised a sort of voluntary mind trap that they would enter every month. Most of the time Kol and especially Finn would not join and sometimes even Klaus would forego it, which made the whole thing rather pointless. If she really needed them they had little choice in the matter, though. The next meeting after Hope's birthday, Freya felt an infrequent yet persistent nudge in the back of her mind. When she investigated after, Hope was pulled in the mind trap.

She awed at the level of power in the girl, power that outstripped her own and would burn Hope out if not channelled correctly. The girl had been experimenting with a power that she did not know how to control or that it could kill her. Hope had begged Freya not to tell her parents, which she only agreed to after her niece promised that she would only use her magic when they were together and as Freya commanded. Well it was a bit more than a promise, a binding oath that would alert Freya to any unsanctioned activity from her niece.

Freya took a small sip as she remembered that first meeting. She looked at the logs in the fireplace and small flame sprang to life somewhere in its depths. She slowly added oxygen and energy to the flame, nurturing it. Within minutes the crackling fireplace provided enough heat to make her sweat. Siphoning off some of the heat to the streets below, she sat contented in a perfectly heated room. They could be as angry as they liked; even with Klaus' perchance for staking his sibling he couldn't very well do that to her.

Hope was less than an adequate learner; she had a great deal of potential but little aptitude, though that may be due to her age. The lessons progressed slowly, of course Freya did not want to rush her niece, but she did not think it would take this much time. Then again, Freya did not have a lot of experience teaching and her own teacher was ruthless: she learnt quick or learnt painfully. She was reaching to refill her glass before she realised it was empty.

"Even for a vampire it's a bit cold in here." Rebekah plopped down beside her, barely missing her feet. Freya hand came away from her glass. Looking as if she held a tiny, delicate figurine, her fingers than sprang open and the logs exploding in flames and flying embers. She shielded them and the tiny, burning flecks harmlessly bounced off it.

"Penny?"

"Elijah informed Klaus that the last of his enemies was seemingly dispatched a year ago."

"You don't seem convinced Aldgate was the last."

Freya finally looked at her sister. "Did he not seem happy to die? With all the centuries spent preserving his life, building his empire why come here then barely put up a fight?"

"I'm sure travelled here expecting a victory, but when he got here he knew the odds were against him. The entire Original family against his paltry 800 years... He was foolish and got himself decapitated." Freya was not convinced and for a time had been searching for more enemies. She redid the spell which revealed them the first time, reworked it, used a new map and fresh blood (Klaus provided a couple of litres before departing); she found nothing. Yet, it was a puzzle that niggled at her.

"Since our infamous brother is returning, I'll give you a hand with that. Well, pass it over." The sisters cracked a smile at each other and Freya threw the bottle into Rebekah's awaiting hand.

Until Finn and Kol returned, very little changed. Klaus had proudly proclaimed to them in the next meeting that he would return and expected them to be present. After a short, heated discussion and an unnecessarily long fight they agreed to come, if only to meet their niece in person. And so two weeks before the arrival, Finn return slightly less solemn than usual. Freya wouldn't exactly say that he sulked in his room, but he rarely came out. At one point while all (except Klaus) of the Original siblings were living together, fighting off Klaus' threats, the others were surprised that they didn't find his desiccated form in his room. Instead he kept the urges away as long as possible with any spirit available, only requiring a blood bag every two or three weeks.

While Finn was barely a breeze in the harmony of their home, Kol was a tornado. He walked through the arches with two women on either arm, all with bloodied necks, and Kol clearly the cause as his scruffy chin hairs were matted with dried blood. Even though the rest found it utterly distasteful, at least he did not keep them. As soon as he realised Mardi Gras was around the corner, he released them, saying he was cleansing himself for the new blood. Of course that did not stop him from causing no end of trouble for every other being in New Orleans, killing anyone who annoyed him. Although, witches were luckily absent from his kill list. Freya knew she was being selfish, even irresponsible, caring only for the safety of her family and the witches, but she couldn't help but be relieved. Kol didn't calm down until the day of Mardi Gras, leaving as soon as he heard the trumpets.

"I suspect you won't see me again before the weekend." He smirked as he fixed a baseball cap on backwards and slipped on blue tinted sunglasses. With a smirk and explanation of 'all the better to eat them with', he left. Rebekah was out the door just as fast and Elijah was not far behind with a little prompting from the very human Chamonix.

Finn was locked away in his room, as usual. Freya worried for him. She had been told about how dour he was before, how he helped their mother try to kill all of them. Her siblings were not saints, not by a long shot, but they were still family and to feel that kind of hatred was a real problem. Before Camille had left, she tried to help him. She delayed her travel plans to council him for almost a year. The hatred and self-loathing were tempered and he helped to defeat Klaus' and some of his siblings' enemies, other than that though he kept to himself.

Freya sighed, he was a grown adult, she supposed as long as he didn't hurt himself or others too badly he was better than any of their siblings. Entering the kitchen, she poured herself a cup of tea. There was little point in buying commercial tea; they never had the right mix of flavours for her. Instead she grew a herb garden on the roof, for tea as well as herbs necessary for witch business. She remembered when she first started it and introduced it to Vincent. He had given her some plants. She warmed at the thought. They had cultivated it together and the garden to become more than a repository.

God, she missed him.

There was little point on dwelling on the past, though. She should be out enjoying herself; the party could be heard throughout New Orleans. Being so close to the centre, her home almost shook with the vibrations. Usually this time of year came with welcome relief: a loud, crazy, all-encompassing festival to forget all your troubles. Perhaps it was because there had been little trouble this year, though Kol made up for that`. Perhaps she was getting too old for this shit; even though she missed it the 1980s was certainly Freya's favourite decade. Or she just wasn't feeling it this year. Whatever the reason, Freya was at home, practically alone while everyone else enjoyed themselves.

Freya took another sip of her tea and busied herself with making lunch. An omelette with mushrooms and tomatoes and spring onions, or baked kipper with a salad, or she could say screw it to both and order a pizza. Running to her room for a second she grabbed a book, she laid down before the fireplace in the lounge downstairs. She turned out her phone to call the restaurant. Although it was soft, there was a very noticeable slap of bare feet against the slab floor. Not just noticeable, urgent. Siting up, she glimpsed over the sofa and a figure jumped towards her. Her foot shot up, she heard wet crush of their connection; she had enhance the kick a touch. He would never realise.

Freya jumped up, vaulting the dampened sofa. Jogging to the courtyard, another two loped in, clawed hands and feet ripping chunks out of the old floor. Her power never switched off, it constantly flowed through her. At times like this she embraced it all readily. With her hands flying out, the werewolves slammed into pillars.

"Finn!"

Windows smashed upstairs and at her sides. Her brother may have been in trouble, but she had more to worry about. Four of them came from either side, she made fists and the intruders screamed as though their skulls were being crushed. Thrown off her feet, her back erupted in pain. A figure crouched above her and his claws carved through the right side of her face. She gritted her teeth against the scream bumbling within her. Twisting from a second strike, she kicked his groin with the same enhanced force and threw the werewolf into another two. They crashed into a painting as got to her knees. Their bones were crushed against the balcony's floor before her allowed them to fall.

A wolf swiped at her chest, she was barely quick enough to avoid her. Her hand came up and twisted; enough was enough. Instead of the sharp, wet crack of the wolf's neck, another swipe ripped through her arm. She cried out, but thought clearly enough to launch a shielding spell. Freya drew in a deep, shuddering breath. Tasting blood that rolled down her face, matting her eyes, her nose, her skin, she tried to unsuccessfully steady herself. The raging werewolf slashed harmlessly against the shield.

Just as she wondered why her previous spell had failed or tried to considering that blood gushed out of her, she heard the echoing chant of a spell. Through the arches walked twin men, no more than boys really, they were creating a spell that protected the wolf from death. Not just the feral girl before her, but all of them. She looked to her sides, the others were rising, snarling as they readied to strike.

A roar ripped through the tension and two armless bodies crashed through the banisters, splattering across the courtyard. Momentarily nonplussed at the still breathing figures, everyone turned to the splintered banister. Finn strode out his room, eyes black and blazing, blood splattered across his face. Like all vampires there was an animalistic part of him that he kept at bay and sometimes when the fighting began all the anger and resentment he buried came to the surface. Something caught her eye; she turned to see the twins struggling. To keep the exsanguinating wolves alive they must be using a lot of power and it was draining them. As long as she and Finn maimed their fighters, but did not kill them, they could soon bring this mess to an end.

"Finn, don't try and kill them, just rip off their arms or something."

He was in the air before she finished. He landed and threw out his hands attempting to behead his prey. Finn smacked into Freya's shield. He rolled off, but was already surrounded. Snarling, they attacked as one. Blood painted everything.

Knowing that Finn was immortal and hearing his grunts, gasps, growls were two very different things. The more they fought, the more the witches struggled to maintain the spell. It was maintained nonetheless. She could not stand by, yet to fight the twins with magic meant releasing the shield. She hesitated, for more than just a moment. Black spots floated within her vision. Blood dripped from her chin and fingers. Slipping out of her top, she wrapped it around her upper arm. She gasped as she tightened it singlehandedly and released the shield, flinging the still breathing, armless wolves at the twins. They barrelled into the witches, knocking them down, but the spell continued. She threw every spell at them: curses, cessations, bone breakers, hallucinogens. Each was cast as fast as a finger's snap, each one rebuffed just as quickly. They no longer worked together: Right kept the wolves alive; Left spurned her attacks on both.

In the begin he responded as quickly as she attacked, but within minutes he slowed. She sent two cessations before he could reply. Coupled with the diminished spell with Right working alone, Finn decapitated one wolf and ripped the heart out of another. As they died, four more took their place. Tumbling from Finn's room, they held daggers with honed, wooden blades. If he was daggered, he would be out of the fight long enough to turn it thoroughly against her. She would be close to helpless. She sent a hallucinogen and cessation and turned the hands of the falling wolves to torches. Left broke through the delusion; she pushed them through the arch. Finally, a physical spell worked. Now to put them down, not for good, well maybe not.

"Sister!"

Freya shook with anger. Finn held the arm of that feral women as she tried to drive a fifth dagger through his heart. How dare they come to her home-

"Sister, it's white oak!"

The wolves exploded away from him. Bloodied and heaving in breaths, he gave a grateful smile. Fiery, scoring pain burnt through her head. Her skull split. She couldn't think, couldn't feel anything but the pain. It stopped just as suddenly, she opening her eyes. Finn was on his knees, they were around him again, but she couldn't see the dagger. Where was it, their hands were empty?

Skin, muscle and bone rent as something ground her neck. A chunk of neck and shoulder ripped from her. She fell forward, barely catching herself. Her slashed arm struggled alone with her weight, the other limp. Freya looked up; the twins were focused on Finn and his attackers. They overestimated her injury. Stupid. A hand gripped her hair, yanking her upright.

"Aldgate sends his regards."

The wind was knocked out of her. An unbearable pressure crushed her chest. Her throat. Her head. She called out to Finn, but choked on the blood bubbling from her mouth. Freya looked down at the dagger hilt sprouting from her chest. She should have been more surprised.

Finn was staring at her; he was screaming at her; his eyes bulged as the wolves held him back; she couldn't hear him, only a buzz, a pulsing buzz. Finn. Why was he not helping? Why are you- Emptiness replaced pressure as the dagger was ripped from her. Blood flowed freely out of her mouth now. She couldn't breathe. Why can't you help me? Where are you? The afternoon light was too bright. Someone caught her. I'm falling. They lowered her to the stone cold floor.

Such short, scruffy blonde hair. Those soft curls and waves. They would look so cute on a little boy. Sorry, I can't hear. No, no, tell me in the morning. Her eyes blinked close. Something blocked her mouth. The blood flowed back. In her lungs; in her stomach. She jerked her eyes open; they were trying to kill her again. She pushed against the arm. With every bit of her strength, Freya pushed. Klaus? One by family... Klaus...