By the time Freya awoke, the world had already been enveloped in the darkness of night. She remembered this place: an old factory or a steel mill she had hidden out in for a time in 1914. Dahlia emerged from the shadows and sneered at her but Freya did not shy away. Although she hurt something awful, the blonde stood her ground; Freya was determined to not show fear, for she knew this to be a place of execution in the supernatural community in the past. She glared directly into Dahlia's black eyes.
"If you are going to kill me, get on with it."
Dahlia scoffed, a sound that would've affronted the devil himself. "Kill you? Why would I do that when you are still of use to me?"
"What use could I possibly be to you?" This inquiry elicited a chuckle. "Like you don't know, child. You are-"
BOOM! CRASH! Freya's vision was clouded by the exploding brick wall and dust. She vaguely heard a sword pierce flesh and her aunt gasping in pain. Then strong arms picked her up and carried her away. The blonde was unconscious before she was even out of the building; such was her shock at being rescued. Freya had resigned herself to death at Dahlia's hands, had done so for centuries. Jostling movements kept her from sleep for too long, and sincere apologies for being carried so long and (what seemed) so roughly kept her mind keen to the task of deciphering the identity of her rescuer.
In her oscillation between consciousness and unconsciousness over the next several hours, she thought long and hard. The eventuality of her no longer being needed by birthing a child for Dahlia is what kept her from falling in love for centuries. Her primary motivation, of course, was what she had told Klaus and Elijah: preventing another from suffering as she did. It was true, but her instincts for self-preservation also played a large role in such decisions. That's why Mathias meant so much to her, why Davina means so much to her now. Both individuals represented the light of hope in a storm of darkness. She liked Mathias, as a person, but loved him because he gave her the gift of a child, even if that gift was cruelly ripped from her by her own youthful folly. She loved Davina as a person; she adored Davina, worshipped the girl's light in her own way. But what she felt for Davina was different than what she felt for Mathias. Mathias was a means to an end for Dahlia. Freya knew that now. Mathias was an escape for Freya; she knew that now. Davina was something else entirely. Warmth, radiance. She emitted love like flames emitted heat. Love for Freya like she had thought she felt for the father of her child. But no. This was deeper. More intense. If she stayed awake, no stayed alive- Freya knew she couldn't put it off any longer. She had to tell Davina how she felt. Kissing and cuddling for hours in a church attic was not enough. The deliverance of such words was now Freya's newest of three motivations in killing Dahlia: freeing herself, saving her family from this wicked monstrosity who called herself a witch, and sharing her feelings with Davina. She couldn't live with herself if such information went unshared. A softness found a way to her. Did she now lie atop something? Her eyes snapped awake and she almost fainted again at the sight of the individual who was her salvation. Freya noticed she was in a motel room of modest means, most likely somewhere far away from her aunt. But that is not what interested her in the slightest. No, the honor of her attention stood in front of her, looking down with a deep ocean of love and a matching familial gaze.
"Father?"
Mikael stood there with a warm and tender smile. The old man, the great Viking warrior and father of the vampire species stood there as still as the grave. Awaiting for her awakening, no doubt. "Freya!" He enveloped the skinny young woman in a bear hug, much like he did when he was first brought out of Finn's channeling. "My beautiful daughter. I have them, I have located all the ingredients as you requested." Freya's eyes lit up at the prospect of using them on Dahlia, killing the horrid demon once and for all. While the unknown of freedom scared her, she took solace in the knowledge of at least Elijah and Rebekah's support if not that of Niklaus. Especially not that of Niklaus, the brother who snapped her neck because of his crippling paranoia and fear that forbid him from trusting anyone who was not himself or his daughter. Then again, his daughter had yet done nothing to betray him. Perhaps that would change. Freya felt a strange mixture of pity and anger at the bastard child of their family. She could argue all the livelong day that Niklaus was the embodiment of toxicity but in the end weren't they all? Elijah was obsessive in his pursuits and looked after everyone but himself. Rebekah's view on love caused more trouble for her human suitors, which she dropped the moment her whims changed, that it was ultimately worth and Kol… based on the stories, Kol was a blood knight. A twinge of regret hit Freya's heartstrings at being robbed of the chance to truly know him. Even Finn, the brother whom she recalled most clearly, had become a fratricidal maniac bent of correcting the wrongs of his younger siblings. It was Freya's duty as the eldest to protect her younger brothers and sister, she knew this, and such vows made Finn diametrically opposed to her and her own agendas. And yet she loved her siblings, all of them, until the end of time and beyond. She could not imagine further existence without them now that she knew them. All these thoughts and reflections and more ran through Freya's mind as hugged her father again for as long as she possibly could. Perhaps she could make him see reason, make him give up his petty vendetta against Niklaus? She could not bear it if they were anymore at odds than they already were. She craved unity, desperately searched for peace in their family.
Freya tore herself away from her thoughts long enough to be of help to Mikael. Getting up, she retrieved the satchel that contained the earth and ash. Slitting her palm over the scattered grainy substances, she began chanting in Old Norse. Mikael hung back and watched for a moment. Then Freya began convulsing awfully. Paternal instinct kicked in and Mikael grabbed Freya's hand. A bright flash and Mikael was knocked across the small room by an unseen force. The force of the spell was primal, powerful, and very angry. Old magic such as that had what Dahlia dubbed a life of its own. It did not like to be caged. 'Better to release it,' the raven-haired woman drilled into Freya's memory. Better to send magic out than keep it inside. Much like Freya's feelings for Davina, which thankfully she already knew were reciprocated.
She completed the spell unhindered, dipping Mikael's old hunting knife in the mixture of blood, ash, and dirt. Flashes she knew had to be false swirled through her mind in the aftermath of her contact with Mikael. She burst from the room without looking back, diving out the open window and landing on a car, cushioned by her magic. She couldn't stop, no way in hell. She had to keep going, to find some way to get these horrid images out of her mind. They couldn't be real, they couldn't! It wasn't possible. Mikael would never have done what these flashes told him they did. No! LIES!
Esther had recently departed Dahlia's little cottage after telling her older sister of her intent to forsake magic and marry Mikael. Bah! Mikael, the man who commanded the group that took them from their home, killed everyone they loved? Preposterous! Dahlia scoffed at the notion, but knew it in her heart to be true. Her loss rang through her mind like a bell, a wake-up call in the morning for breakfast. She was alone now, utterly and totally alone in a foreign land. Dahlia was content to sit alone and cry for the remainder of the day when she heard the door open. "Esther, leave! You are unwanted, you-!"
"May I enter?" She recognized the voice. It was calm, inquisitive about her, as it had been for years now. Mikael.
His voice was a balm in this pain. Once upon a time, Dahlia entertained escapist fantasies of marrying this kind and gentle soul who regretted what his men put Dahlia through for Esther's sake. His superiors had commanded he find a witch, if he could, in the surrounding lands and he did. He brought back not one but two. He excelled and was given the highest honors. His underlings gifted him with a sword most beautiful and majestic. Truthfully fit for a king or a conqueror such as he. Mikael wore the weapon with pride, a pride Dahlia felt she herself had long since lost. In his presence, though, she felt safe and happy. He made his sister happy, she could see it in both their eyes when they spoke of each other. Instinctively, Dahlia sank to the ground and cowered, not bothering to look up through her messy and tangled hair. "What is it you wish of me?" Through the uppermost portion of her peripheral vision, through quick stolen glances upward and back down to the dirty ground, she noticed Mikael had crouched down in front of her. He had lowered himself to her level! What manner of manipulation was this? "Please get up, Mikael. I- I would not have the intended of my sister sullied by the ground of my home." Mikael laughed heartily in response. Another manipulation, Dahlia's experiences in the Viking camp taught her everything was a manipulation. Sex for spells, spells for sex. She was lowered to an extension of her hands and womanhood. Sometimes the sex was unwilling on her part. It was dehumanizing but if that was what it took to keep Esther safe and happy then so be it. So. Be. It. Had Mikael come to ride her like a horse now by first grooming her by offering up compliments and other sweet nothings? Years had taught her this was what was to be expected when such men came to her with kindness and warmth. These men were not to be trusted. Men in general were not to be trusted! Yes! If nothing else, hat was the one lesson she retained from her time here! But this man, this Mikael, she sensed something different about him. Her mother taught her to intuit the feelings of others though simple body language, no magic required. That being said, magic certainly helped. She gleaned his mind, his aura. No malice of forethought existed there. Shuddering, she raised her head to look him dead in the eye. "What is it you want?" He answered this honest inquiry full of bitterness with a kiss. A deep and sensual kiss. Not between friends or family members, but lovers. Not knowing how else to respond to his information, Dahlia twisted her fingers through Mikael's long yellow mane and returned his kiss. She pressed herself against him, her body slowly flowing into his as if they were one. Is that was the love she so craved felt like? He kissed her twice more and Dahlia fell on her back, pulling Mikael with her. They did not sleep for a long time. The noises of lovemaking carried on for quite a while. Later, Mikael would explain the sex was on Esther's order, to give Dahlia at least a fleeting moment of happiness, to share in the ecstasy of love as Esther did. She wanted nothing more than to make her elder sister (who she had so callously forsaken not an hour before) joyous once more, as she remembered Dahlia in their youth. When Dahlia discovered the truth, years later, it of course had the opposite intended effect. This was the ultimate betrayal.
A year later, when Esther and Mikael were married, Esther came to Dahlia with the humble request of aid in childbearing. Perhaps she also wished to atone for her heinous manipulation and betrayal? Dahlia knew better than to expect such an emotionally deep thing from her horrifically shallow baby sister. The desire her sister had to be a mother tore Dahlia's still-warm heart into pieces. Ripped it like a wolf digging into a carcass for its next meal. When the spell concluded and Esther departed without so much as a sincere word of thanks, Dahlia's mind shot back to the child, the illegitimate daughter of her and Mikael's trist, that she gave up immediately upon her birth to some local Norse farmer. This was a large part of why she lived alone, why she swore to never love. Simultaneously, however, Dahlia longed for love and acceptance. And vengeance. Vengeance on the gods, on Mikael, on all the children Esther would bear in the future. She hungered for what was denied her, the happiness she herself sought once upon a time.
Freya's mind shot back to the present. Standing behind her as she absently gazed into a fountain was Mikael. Whipping around wildly, frantically, Mikael caught her in his arms. "Shhhhh…"
"How could you? She had a child by you! How could you?"
"It was Esther's desire for me to make her happy."
"Then Esther is to blame. I hold no grudge against you. Did you know she bore a daughter?"
"Not until this year, during my travels."
"Then you are blameless. Father, I will make Esther pay for the trouble she has caused this family."
Freya Mikaelson was nothing if not true to her word. Later that evening, Freya turned her mother's vessel into a flock of birds and then make the wretched birds die in moments. Though there was no love lost between her and the two women in her life, Esther and Dahlia, she was offended by the matriarch's idea of "love". She hoped Esther would rot in hell for a very, very long time.