Hey, there!
Well, this is the last chapter of the fanfic. I hope you have enjoyed it as much as I did when I wrote it. As always, I do apologize for any mistake and I would really appreciate if you guys could warn me of any mistake or if you just review. Your opinions are important for me.
Thank you so much for reading and have a nice day!
NovenaMusa
Chapter 2
Norway, the Mikaelson's childhood
Elijah wished to thank, somehow, the girl for what she had done for him. He had ever felt so eager to laugh... or just wanting to do so. He hadn't had the opportunity to open up to someone, and really, he'd had no idea of how much he had required some understanding and relief until he had been lucky enough to receive them.
Everyone needed someone to talk and vent, occasionally. In his family there wasn't anyone available, considering that Finn hated him and spent the entire day with mother, both of them ignoring him completely, and well, then there was his father, whom he feared and tried to avoid as much as possible. Resort a friend had never been an option since he had none. Elijah was reserved and introverted, besides that, with the exhausting and violent training he practised, the boy had matured almost by force, moving away from the childhood he could share with them. Not to mention most of the kids were so afraid of Mikael that they dared not approach his house. Elijah was destined to be alone, ironically, always and forever.
Or at least, that was what he believed so far. This girl had given wings to his hope. A hope in a world where he could feel normal, where there wouldn't be more suppression of feelings, neither tight grip, or more war or insensitivity. A world where he could be himself and she could be herself with him.
Maybe she could even become the sister that he lacked. Wasn't that what friends were? The family with whom we don't share blood but are as important to us as those who have it. Elijah felt the urge of tell her that, of let her know that he appreciated their conversation, and, even though he was aware that words were a universe of possibilities... what was more sincere than a gesture?
The boy, after having raced and raced through the forest, carelessly dodging the obstacles that blocked his path, stopped suddenly when he faced his destination. Still, Elijah didn't allow himself some rest; he walked steadily up to the tree and looked up.
It was a great specimen and although would not be more than ten meters, its height wasn't due precisely to the altitude of the trunk, as this was stocky, but the branches, which, however, extended as far as reached what he thought it should be the entrance of Valhalla.
Perhaps, if Elijah had the courage to get to the top, he could enter the palace and meet those gods of whom he had heard so much. However, it would have to be other day, this he had it occupied.
The apple tree was one of Elijah's favourites and not just because he adored apples, but because at that time, was covered with large white flowers that dressed it with a beautiful gown. They were perfect for his plan.
He climbed easily to where all branches were joined. The boy rested his right knee in one of the thickest and circled it with his hands while he was moving forward.
Good thing the kid didn't weigh much!
Elijah drew a hunting knife, one that he always carried with him and cut, as cleanly as possible, a few of the thinnest branches, which were those with more number of flowers. He dropped them gently as he proceeded, to have free hands and go down without problems.
Then, when he put feet on the ground, grabbed them again and plucked the flowers and leaves, leaving only the bare stem. But Elijah didn't get rid of everything else. Although he wasn't going to use the leaves, he needed flowers for what he had planned. However, he also required something to tie...
The boy looked his shirt and lifted the knife.
Elijah returned with a nice blush colouring his cheeks and a rascal expression on his face, showing, finally, the sweet old he was. He was walking swaying from side to side, with both hands behind his back, hiding something. However, he was so radiant and excited, that in trying to hurry to get to her, moved his arms forward to gain thrust in the race, and discovered the surprise. He didn't seem upset for it, though.
It was a large wreath of white flowers. As Elijah approached, she could see that he had used the same bared branch as base and the stem of each flower and a piece of cloth from his own shirt to join them, although she realized that he had tried to hide it.
Elijah stood on tiptoe as much as he could to place it on her head, taking care not to crush any of her precious curls, or apply a lot of force and damage her crown.
He admired his work. Keeping in mind that the girl's hair rivalled the most virgin snow and the flower's colour was also immaculate, the wreath itself didn't stand out much. However, if you paid the appropriate attention, even though the girl's dress was very humble, with the harmony of white and the brightness of thrill in the Freya's features, she was as close to a Nordic princess that the boy had ever seen. It gave her an ethereal appearance.
- "What's this?" - Freya asked taking it away from her head momentarily to observe it more thoroughly.
- "It's a wreath of apple tree's flowers" - Elijah told, trying to still catch his breath - "The tree blooms now in spring."
- "I know what it is" - she claimed, giving him a curiosity's glance - "I meant, why you did it?
- "Oh" – he shrugged sheepishly -. "It's a gift, of welcome ... and of gratitude."
- "Gratitude?"
- "Yes. I... I just wanted to thank you for talking to me and for dedicating me some of your time "- Elijah admitted while scratching his neck. He was nervous and it was obvious -. "You're the closest to a friend I ever had" - the last sentence sounded more like a question than a statement -. "I know that the crown it's nothing special..." - began but stopped suddenly and frowned -. "Well, rather it's a real mess" - confirmed -. "The imperfections are quite evident" - commented, pointing out the places where the flower's petals were shattered, and where the connections between flowers were a little undone - "but it's my first one" - Elijah swallowed more insecure as he was speaking -. "You have my word, that I have done it with the best intention and..."
Freya couldn't help it, stepped forward and hugged him. She didn't know exactly how or why she had had that reaction, after all, she couldn't remember the last time she had embraced someone, but she supposed that there were gestures that were simply instinctive...human.
The boy tensed, probably as surprised as her due to the hug. Freya waited a few seconds, praying silently for a response for his part, and felt mortified when she realized that he was still rigid, with his arms uncomfortably glued at his sides. He had even ceased to inspire. She knew what was coming, had lived the same situation hundreds of times with Dahlia, when had vainly tried to reach her…to her goodness, with affection.
She closed her eyes tightly, prepared for rejection and began to retreat, not wanting to disturb him. However, Elijah quickly got relaxed and wrapped her with his arms, holding her close. She sighed with relief and rested her cheek on his shoulder, listening to the deep breathing of the child in her ear and noticing the soft and unstable but clumsy pats he was giving her in the shoulder blades.
They stayed that way for a while, on the quieter and more comfortable moment she had lived. She enjoyed the serenity that experienced for being able to express and receive love of a family member but knew she couldn't abuse of his graciousness ... or of his time. This was supposed to be nothing more and nothing less than a flying visit.
She moved away and squeezed his biceps for the last time, wanting to silence the words that wanted to escape from her lips. They crossed looks and Freya, after meeting with nothing but kindness and acceptance in his brown eyes, felt something wet and warm freely sliding down her cheeks, finishing in her mouth, leaving a permanent salty taste.
She raised a finger, catching one of the tears that had just started its tour and observed it as one who looks a rarity. She hadn't wept for so long, had never allowed her to do it because Dahlia hated weaknesses...better said, vulnerability in general. Freya shuddered when she imagined what would do Dahlia to her if she would ever find her crying, but, at that moment, knowing she was safe, just got carried away and wept. She cried for all the time she couldn't do it, for the fear she felt and would feel in the future, for the impotence and rage of being reduced to a slave, for the love that was not able to demonstrate, and, especially, for their situation. Both were miserable.
Elijah, always the solicitous gentleman, quietly offered a piece of cloth that had been taken from his pocket and a lips's gesture that could well have been an attempt to smile full of sympathy. Instantly, she started to recover. He didn't touch her, didn't even moved a little closer, however, she felt his presence as a healing source.
- "What's your name?" - The boy tried tentatively.
- "Son! Where are you? "- a woman screamed.
Elijah was about to curse and would have done it if he hadn't been so focused on trying to find the right words to comfort the girl. Nevertheless, he couldn't prevent the soft growl of frustration that rumbled into his chest. He felt like he was stuck at a crossroads and doubted about which way to go. What should he do?
The kid wanted to keep talking to his new friend, especially since she had shown to be so unhappy. He had intended to cheer her up, reassure her that everything would be fine, although it could totally be a little white lie. See her so distraught hurt him profoundly, mostly because it was a very tragic state after hearing her laughing out loud. Still, Elijah had promised to help her mother and he always, absolutely always, kept his word.
At least, that was what he had done so far. Was this the appropriate moment to begin to do not doing so? Was breaking a promise something excusable when it was for a good deed? Or he just thought it was a good deed because he would benefit from it?
Gods, sometimes Elijah hated his morality, his hesitation between doing right or what he really desired. The only thing he was sure of was that he didn't want to let her out of his sight, not for a second, just in case she disappeared, proving him that this had only been a dream created by his desperate imagination. But, on the other, he knew what his mother would think, if she noticed a girl crying beside him, plus he wasn't prepared to introduce her to his dysfunctional family yet. Scaring her was, of course, the last thing on his wish list.
Duty or pleasure…that was continually the question. Elijah shook his head in defeat, deep inside knowing what decision would end up taking. It was always the same.
"That is my mother" – he muttered -. "She needs me to bring this to her" - lifted the basket - "for dinner" - Elijah breathed profoundly, looking both upset and determined -. "Like before? Do not move! "- reminded and ran as if his life depended on it.
Freya smiled with sadness. She wasn't going to be there when Elijah would return; she had already risked too much just talking to him. She knew he would be angry with her ... or perhaps he would be bitterer than what he actually was. Probably the boy would repress his feelings and would slowly shatter them until he no longer had anger, nor sorrow, nor disappointment, compassion, faith, hope, euphoria ... Until there was nothing left. Only emptiness. At the end of the day that was what he had been doing and what he would get if he continued as he did until now. But she had already accepted that she couldn't help him more from there, just watch over him from the shadows. She sincerely hoped that their recent conversation would serve him as mooring in storm's times, reminding him that he wasn't as alone as he believed.
The girl approached the bushes and pulled out a few of its branches. Then she closed her eyelids and wrapped her hands around them as she whispered softly a spell. She thought that since he had had the detail of giving her a present, one that, sadly, would have to throw away, since Dahlia must never know that she had broken rule number one: no relationships with the Mikaelson; she wanted to make him a gift that could remain in his memory forever. Like he would remain forever in her heart.
"Freya, my name is Freya" - Although she was aware that Elijah wouldn't be able to hear her, Freya decided to be honest with the wind which had always been a good listener, while she left in the ground an impressive boat made of wood - "And I also was dying to meet you, little brother."
