A.N.: Thank you for the reviews! I hope you like this chapter… It might shed a little light on some things.
I borrowed Stiles' Jeep for Kol, by the way.
Resurgam
42
Into the Woods
Most of the time, she kept reality successfully at bay. She cocooned her home in warmth and safety and ignored the outside world. The only things that mattered were inside her home: Zita, Enzo and Fabian. And it was a testament to her, she thought sometimes, that Zita and Enzo embraced Fabian so completely into their little nuclear family. Within days, it felt like Fabian had always had a place in their home, in their family.
Mostly because elusive Simba adored him; the proud little cat, who only ever cuddled with Giulia, was now almost a permanent fixture on Fabian's person, whether resting on his stomach when he had a seizure, or draped around Fabian's shoulders, purring loudly as he nuzzled Fabian's neck. Witches and their familiars!
There were times when it was impractical for Giulia to stay at home: Sometimes Fabian's seizures lasted hours, and…well, she had grocery shopping to do and other chores. Zita needed a winter coat and some new clothes; they had their aerial silks and mommy-and-me yoga glasses, and she had forgotten that she had signed Zita up for T-ball and soccer, and that she, Giulia, was supposed to be the assistant coach for the soccer-team.
And sometimes…sometimes Giulia needed to step away. Because it was exhausting for her to watch Fabian's seizures, and devastating to feel their side-effects after the visions ended, and deal with Fabian's confusion and lapses.
Even to Giulia, who hadn't seen him for nearly six years, he was different.
Fabian knew it. After one particularly gruelling night - his seizure lasted from dinnertime to three a.m., bleeding all the while - he had murmured to Giulia that he was "losing things. They're…being carved away - I can feel it. Feel their absence - but I can't…I can't remember."
She padded over to him, barefoot in her nightdress, and handed him a warm, damp washcloth to wipe away the last of the blood trickling down his neck. He sat on the bed, shirtless, his back curved in defeat as he rested his head in a shaking hand. She took the washcloth, and his lip trembled as he took her waist in his hands, drawing her closer, to nestle his head against her chest. She curled her fingers through his hair, stroking gently, as he clung to her for comfort.
As his body trembled with suppressed sobs, her eyes burned, realising Fabian knew what was happening, and was afraid.
And he was here, because she was the only person he knew who…cared - cared that he, the man, was being carved away, against his will. Cared to look after him at his most vulnerable, unthinking of the inconvenience to herself.
His disorientation was jarring enough for her, never knowing whether, asking him something, he would even recognise her from one moment to the next. She savoured his lucid moments; and it was Enzo who forced her to take breaks to recover from his bad ones. Fabian's lapses were becoming more and more frequent, and she could do nothing, nothing but make his lucid moments vibrant - as much for her, as for him: She would remember, even if his next seizure might strip the last few weeks away as if they had never happened.
Her world had become very small, very specific: Zita, Enzo and Fabian, and the animals.
It wasn't until, picking Zita up from Liz's house after their fortnightly sleepover, Liz already in her Sheriff's uniform to head to another gruelling shift that Giulia acknowledged that things were still happening, regardless of her influence over them or her interest in them. As Zita chattered away excitedly, gathering up her pink, pineapple-patterned backpack full of her precious things, tucking her purse over her head to dangle at her hip, Giulia savoured the hug Liz gave her. She didn't let go for a long time; Giulia knew Caroline must have told her what was going on.
"Zita's been telling me all about her new uncle," Liz said gently, releasing her, and Giulia gave a half-hearted smile. It was the simplest way to introduce Zita to Fabian. Zita was such a good, charismatic little girl that she could talk to anyone; after the first lemon madeleines, she had decided to keep Fabian. And that was that: He was her new friend. What he was to Giulia, well, that hardly mattered to a five-year-old. But he was her uncle, now, just as Enzo was; but he wasn't Mamma's brother, the way Enzo was - she had seen them kissing too often not to ask questions. So, Giulia had explained that she had married Fabian years ago - he had given her the daisy diamond ring Zita loved - and they couldn't live together for a long while: He was home because he was "shaky" and ill, and needed Giulia to look after him.
"I'll help!" Zita had chirped brightly, and she did. Every day, her constant smiles and goodness shone through even the worst of Fabian's lapses. She buoyed Giulia without even realising it, constantly smiling, constantly gorgeous and compassionate and sweet, cheerful and generous; and though he sometimes didn't recognise her, Zita seemed to soothe the worst of Fabian's agitation during his bad times. He didn't have to remember her specifically to be engaged with her chatter, kind and considerate of her; he followed her lead during play, and whenever Giulia watched them, she wondered if Zita wasn't the best medicine for all of them.
"She's very taken with him," Giulia told Liz, who peered at her anxiously. Giulia brightened her smile. "She seems to know what to do with him without even thinking about it." She had Fabian in the kitchen, teaching her to bake; or she taught him how to fish, sat out on the jetty in their jackets, with a thermos of hot chocolate to share, making up the "fish lullaby" to lure fish to their lines. He taught her the cello, when he was lucid enough to remember how to play it himself; Giulia had a gorgeous photograph of Zita sat in Fabian's lap, Zita half-concealed by the cello propped between their legs, Zita holding the bow and grinning up at Fabian, who was smiling warmly at her, so soft.
He knew how precious she was. And Giulia could never thank him enough for giving Zita to her.
It had never been what she had anticipated her life to be: But she wouldn't change it for the world.
"How are you doing?" Liz asked, reading Giulia's face. Giulia shrugged, wincing slightly.
"We're taking things day by day," she said softly. She glanced past Liz to the door to her home-office, where the walls were covered in paperwork. "And you? Zita, did you look after Grandma?"
"Uh-huh. We had cinnamon rolls for breakfast," Zita said, her lisp adorable.
"Cinnamon rolls?!" Giulia gasped, exaggerating, and Zita grinned conspiratorially at Liz. "Well, where's mine?"
"Um…!" Zita said, grimacing only a little guiltily as she grinned at Liz. "We etted 'em!"
"You ate them! All of them?!" Giulia gaped, and poked her daughter's belly-button playfully. "How did they all fit into your little tummy?" Zita giggled, and Giulia leaned down to kiss her neck, blowing a playful raspberry. She straightened up, to smile softly at Liz, who had the privilege of spoiling Zita as her only granddaughter. "How are things going?"
Liz glanced over her shoulder at Zita, before murmuring, "We found three more bodies a couple days ago. We've kept it out of the press, but… I hate asking you, what with everything you have going on, but - I'm missing something."
"I'll take a look," Giulia said softly, and followed Liz into the office, rumpling Zita's curls as she passed. "Wait here for us for a minute, baby."
"Okay," Zita chirped, smiling, and yawned widely as she frowned intensely at her shoes: Giulia was painstakingly trying to teach her how to tie her shoelaces. It had resulted in most shoelaces in the house being knotted together - Giulia couldn't grab a pair of sneakers without having to take five minutes to untangle knots as Zita smiled guiltily up at her. Still, she was practicing.
There was a map pinned to a corkboard mounted on the wall: Push-pins showed the locations where the murder-victims had been discovered, strings connecting the pins to paperwork on the victims themselves, their profiles. Liz had connected the first three victims, all 'warriors' involved in the Armed Forces in some way. The second set of victims were all revealed to be, after investigation, virgins. There had been another three victims, including one of the William Lockwood Middle School teachers, and a tenth victim, as yet unconnected. The first of the next set of sacrifices.
Giulia scanned the display, memorising everything, but her focus turned to the map, and the push-pins. In her mind, she unwound the colourful yarn leading from the pins to the profiles; she meticulously connected each pin to the next, but frowned, because that wasn't right, it formed an irregular loop.
"The colours coordinate to the groupings of the murders?" Giulia asked, and Liz nodded.
"Navy for the first three, white for the second set, green for the last three, and the last victim is there, in purple," Liz said, sighing heavily. Giulia frowned at the map. And then she dug into her purse, retrieving her kit, full of rulers, sharp pencils, mathematical protractors and other pieces of equipment essential for technical-drawings done by hand. She took out a ruler and a sharp pencil, and set at the map, picking out what no-one else could see. Giulia loved codes, she loved puzzles and problems: She had considered training as a cartographer. She had considered a lot of things, but she had fallen in love with the meticulous, visionary creativity of Architecture. That didn't mean she had stopped seeing patterns in everything.
After a few minutes, she stood back, resting against Liz's desk as the Sheriff stared at the map. Each murder site was connected, however tenuously, by geography: Each set of murders had been committed in a perfect triangle. And each point of those triangles, where the bodies had been found, rested on… "Telluric currents," she murmured.
"Telluric currents?"
"They're natural electrical currents that move through the earth," Giulia murmured, her eyes tracing the currents. "They're…natural phenomena sometimes used by witches to amplify their power."
She blinked at the map, and set one more pin in place, significant by its absence on the map. The location where twelve witches - three times three, and three again - had been massacred. There was no sacred triangle. The witches had chosen to hold their ritual at that place in the woods specifically, had set to execute Sheila there, channelled their magic to test Penelope and baby Deana there, and, more importantly, had died there.
There was a reason for everything witches did. They had their rituals, their spells, handed down through the generations…and they had their sacred sites - or the means to find them. Places of significant natural influence. Like places where telluric currents converged.
"So the murders are all to do with witches," Liz sighed, shaking her head. "That still gets me no closer to finding who's killing them - or stopping them."
"Well…you've only got five more to go," Giulia told her, and Liz raised her eyebrows at her. "You've had three warriors, three virgins, three learned men. That leaves healers and guardians."
"And then what?" Liz asked quietly, eyes on the map. "The last of the bodies turns up…then we're in for hell, right?"
"Most likely," Giulia sighed.
"Pretty soon I'm gonna have to get the FBI in on this…unless I can use this to catch whoever's leaving the bodies," Liz said, and Giulia nodded.
"That's a lot of ground to cover," she said softly, and Liz nodded.
"We've got ten people murdered, and no suspects," Liz said quietly. "We can spare the manpower."
"Unless they weren't murders," Giulia said carefully, glancing at Liz. "It wouldn't be the first time the town has covered up supernatural deaths." Liz sighed, and scrubbed her face. Her platinum-grey hair was as neatly turned-out as ever, the only visible hint she and Caroline did share DNA. But she looked tired, in a way Caroline never would.
"It may have to come to that," Liz admitted. She sighed heavily. "Human sacrifices… This wasn't what I'd hope my last year before retirement would be like."
"Retirement?!" Giulia started, staring at Liz.
"Thirty years at the Sheriff's Department," Liz said, with a warm smile.
"Liz, you're too young to have worked at the Sheriff's Department for thirty years."
"You get an extra special Christmas present," Liz said, smiling, her eyes warming up again, and Giulia smiled. Thirty years, and Liz was retiring?
It seemed absurd.
Sometimes Giulia had to remind herself she wasn't still seventeen. Time was passing. Liz was retiring. Before that, she had a string of ritual murders to solve.
Liz packed up her things to get ready for work, and Giulia gathered up Zita, making sure she hadn't left anything behind. Zita kissed Grandma Liz goodbye, thanking her for their fun night, and skipped down the pathway to Giulia's Audi, cooing to Zeus, whose muzzle shone dark-silver in the lingering mid-October sunshine as he poked his nose through the open window. Giulia thanked Liz for having Zita, Zeus sniffing at Zita's curls and Giulia's neck as she buckled her into the booster-seat.
"Are we going home?" Zita asked.
"Maybe…or…" Giulia said, smiling as she unzipped her old and very well-loved Timberwolves athletics bag, revealing a soccer-ball. "I thought we could take the dogs for a long walk. And you can practice your kicks."
"Really?"
"Uh-huh," Giulia smiled, and Zita beamed, nodding, her curls dancing.
"Yes, please!" she said, flashing her tiny little pearly teeth. They both waved as Liz drove off in her cruiser, and Giulia dialled her phone.
"Hi," she said softly, when Kol answered, grumbling about her waking him at an ungodly hour. "Did you fancy a nature hike?"
Yawning, looking slightly rumpled but otherwise well-rested, Kol perked up when he saw Zita with the little dogs, all playing with Giulia's soccer-ball as they waited on the hiking trail. And he hadn't come alone. Lagertha, sun-bronzed and smiling gently. As the dogs cavorted at her feet, Zita sorrowfully watching the soccer-ball roll under Kol's 1980 robin's-egg blue CJ5 Jeep. Kol didn't hold onto much - but that Jeep… There was a soft crunch of gravel, and someone murmuring about the indignity of climbing out of the backseat, and Elijah appeared, in hiking-boots and those jeans that made her mouth water every time she stole a glimpse. She was glad of her sunglasses, though she was fairly certain by the subtle smile on his face that he had heard the dur-thunk of her heart stuttering. He rounded the hood of the Jeep, revealing the soccer-ball he carried; Zita perked up, smiling.
"Lovely morning for a picnic," Kol grumbled, shoving sunglasses on.
"Someone have a decadent night?" Giulia asked, teasing, and Kol grumbled, approaching her to give her a gentle hug. He kissed her cheek before he let her go, and rumpled Zita's curls as she said a cheerful hello.
"We had drinks. Many, many drinks," Kol sighed, and yawned. "Tutoring newbie vamps is exhausting."
"You were merely observing!" Elijah remarked, quirking an eyebrow. "Hardly strenuous for you."
"Hardly strenuous?! Suppressing my irritation at the whining, self-absorbed little brat alone drove me to new and unusual cocktails, Elijah," Kol muttered. "Why are we out here so absurdly early, with all this…nature and fresh air?"
"It's good for you," Giulia said, as Elijah smirked. She cast her eyes over him, shielded by her sunglasses, and sighed: It was the first time she had seen him since the night of Fabian's reappearance. It had seemed insensitive to explain everything in a text…but a phone-call had been just as awkward, if not downright painful.
"Does this belong to you?" he asked kindly, offering the soccer-ball to Zita, who nodded, her curls dancing.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Are you coming on our walk?"
"Indeed," Elijah nodded, "if that is alright by you?" Zita nodded, beaming.
"Zita, why don't you lead the way?" Giulia suggested, and Zita nodded, reaching for Lagertha's hand to clutch her fingers and lead her along the path. Kol yawned widely, rumpled his hair, donned sunglasses and strode after Zita and Lagertha.
Giulia was hyper-aware of Elijah's nearness. Of the fact they had had one strained phone-call the day after Fabian's return. He knew she had seen him in the treeline, had watched him back away from the house as she hugged her husband, shocked by his reappearance. The fact that he had…redoubled her respect for him, for the man he was.
"Just you and Zita this morning?" Elijah said softly, watching Zita skip ahead with Tisiphone and Gallant gambolling about her feet; Zeus stayed behind, close to Giulia's legs. She reached and stroked his ears.
"Just the two of us… Enzo is at home, minding Fabian," Giulia admitted quietly. His seizure had begun at five a.m.; and because she had to pick up Zita so Liz could get to the Sheriff's Department, Giulia had left him in Enzo's care. Enzo had the weekend off, and had given Giulia the day off: He would look after Fabian while Giulia took a much-needed break. Every day, walking the dogs was her time away, to unwind and decompress: They were all she allowed herself. And she hated to be away for too long, never wanting to take it for granted that Enzo would keep an eye on Fabian for her.
But that was the core of their relationship, her and Enzo: They were a family. They buoyed each other, looked after each other, knew each other's faults and fears and how to gentle them. And Enzo knew she would do anything for him; just as he would do anything for her. He was the brother she had chosen; she was a sister he had always wanted. They were a family. They shared the burden - and the joy.
She added, softly, "He had another seizure this morning."
Elijah frowned gently at her, then stroked Zeus' muzzle before leading the way down the path. "They're bad, aren't they?"
"They are," Giulia said softly.
Elijah sighed. "One day, when a good day comes along… I would like to meet him."
Giulia raised her eyebrows. "You would?"
Elijah smiled, and it wasn't unkind or vicious or threatening or sarcastic: It was earnest. "I do not imagine an unexceptional person could ever maintain your interest for long - let alone your respect and your love," he said, and Giulia blushed delicately. "And you respect this man."
"I do… But I respect myself, too," she added. And that was why she could not betray him - them… Either of them. "That's not who I am."
"And I love you for it," Elijah said, his voice so soft…almost heartbroken.
"This…" Giulia sighed heavily, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat, and admitted, "This wasn't the life that I had ever dreamed I would be living."
"It's because of yours that mine is worth living again," Elijah told her quietly, and Giulia gazed at him. "Thank you for my family, Giulia."
"You're very welcome," she said, smiling. Truthfully, if she had known what they were like, who they truly were, Giulia would have woken the Originals ages ago: She adored them.
And it showed what a damaging influence Klaus was on his family, that removing him from their lives, they were…what they were - friendly, warm, charismatic, engaging, generous, kind, humorous, cultured, teasing, playful, and a little dangerous - especially to anyone who threatened them. There were exceptions, of course: Isak was a deeply unhappy person, lashing out at everyone and everything. And Rebekah had endured Niklaus' unfettered abuse for longer than anyone: She was as much a product of his abuse as anything, violent, paranoid, brash, but still hopeful, a stubborn romantic.
But the rest of them - Finn and Lagertha and Gyda and even lone-wolf Willem…they were wonderful. And worth all the effort Elijah had gone to, a decade ago, to reunite them.
"An unusual choice of locations for a nature hike," Elijah said thoughtfully, as they ambled leisurely along the path behind Kol; up ahead, Lagertha held Zita's hand as they skipped along the path, Zita stopping to bend her nose to stubborn wildflowers.
"I saw Liz Forbes earlier," Giulia said, sighing heavily. "The Department is still turning up bodies and she asked me to cast an eye over some of her files…"
"All these murders…it bodes ill for us all," Elijah said quietly.
"More than you'd think: Liz is going to have to get the FBI involved if she can't resolve this soon," Giulia said, and Elijah turned to glance at her, his brow furrowed. "And then things will get really complicated."
Elijah sighed heavily. "They should have known better than to commit these murders."
"They should have known better than to leave the bodies," Giulia said, clicking her tongue. "It's the act of sacrifice that matters, not the bodies left behind. No-one need ever have known what they were up to."
"He wanted news of these sacrifices to reach us," Elijah muttered. "I do not think he anticipated we would be involved in precipitating the sacrifices with our slaughter of the witches."
Giulia gazed at Elijah. "He?"
Elijah caught himself, then glanced quickly at Giulia. After a moment, he said, "Mikael…the vampire who hunts vampires… But you know that." She had tensed at the name, and nodded.
"Yes, I do."
"I had heard a rumour that Mikael was desiccated in a mausoleum in North Caroline several decades ago," Elijah said, frowning, and Giulia nodded; she had heard the same rumour.
"Desiccated by Abby Bennett…and hidden by Joshua Salvatore…" Giulia said. "But Fabian never lost track of him."
"Giulia, did you know about all of this?" Elijah asked, for the first and only time.
For a long moment, Giulia considered her response. She stopped in the path, hands in the pocket of her leather jacket, and sighed, eyes shielded by her sunglasses as Elijah waited patiently for her response.
"When Fabian appeared, he remembered as much to tell me that he had been in North Carolina," Giulia admitted. "I knew he had likely woken Mikael…then I remembered your reaction to Chrissy's murder, the axe. You recognised the Threefold Death. I didn't know Mikael would come here orchestrating massacres."
"When Mother's magic demanded sacrifice, Mikael committed them on her behalf. Usually slaves taken during the raids…" Elijah said, almost distractedly, as if he was recounting facts from a file rather than from memories of his own life. It had been so long ago, he had dissociated from it. "Asphyxiation, throats cut open, an axe to the back of the skull, in that order - always. My father never deviated - you brought him here?"
She gazed back at him, eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, and Elijah waited. He could not imagine why, after commandeering him and his family-members from right under Niklaus' nose, Giulia would do such a thing as bring the Destroyer to their doorstep.
After a moment, Giulia pushed her sunglasses on top of her head, revealing her icy-silver eyes, unsettling in the sunlight as they glowed, set into her face losing its summer tan. She looked healthy, if tired, a touch of summer clinging to her olive-tanned skin. She looked him right in the eye, as she said, "If I tell you that I had promised myself that I would…ensure your happiness…do you trust me?"
He looked into her face, into her eyes…and he remembered who she was, and all the potential she had had at seventeen, the gumption she had shown over the last ten years, the creativity and dazzling genius. He remembered gazing into those eyes as he made her come; he remembered her humour, and her commitment. Her passion, and her grit. Her ferocity, and her fairness.
"Yes," he answered softly. "I trust you."
Giulia gazed into his eyes, and Elijah knew he did trust her, with all that he was. He trusted her with his family. And his family was everything to him. And she knew it.
"When I met Fabian, he was committed to stopping the disease of vampirism from spreading. I had already stolen you from under Klaus' nose…but I wasn't certain of the way forward," Giulia said, clearing her throat delicately. "How to ensure he could never sink you into a box with a knife in your heart again…how to ensure things weren't the same during the next thousand years of your life as they had been the last."
"Well, waking Mikael would ensure they would not be; for we shall all be dead," Elijah said tartly, and Giulia's exquisite lips quirked in amusement.
"You were never his target…and now you know it," she said, with a stern bite. "Fabian and I realised that if we worked together, both our dreams could become reality. I'm going on faith…trust in Fabian…that all this is necessary for the world we want to see realised. I don't know what Mikael is planning, and Fabian couldn't remember even if he tried - I just know…that if I haven't been provoked to stop it, it's necessary." She sighed, and reached up a hand to pinch her eyes; she suddenly looked very tired, and she looked upset, and grim, when she added, "Sometimes what's necessary isn't what's right."
He could not agree more. Elijah murmured, "So you do not know what Mikael is planning."
"No. Fabian's a believer in the endgame, but he keeps that to himself," Giulia said, and Elijah was stunned by the profound trust Giulia had in him, her husband. Giulia, who would rather take on too much than delegate, let another completely take control; she followed Fabian's plans, going on faith alone. On trust. All Elijah could do…was trust her. "I'm privileged to know as much as he has told me, to put things in place…but no, I don't know what Mikael is doing, or how it fits into Fabian's plans."
"And there is no way of learning from Fabian himself," Elijah said, and something turned very sharp in those eerie silver-grey eyes of hers. Lethal, almost.
"Even if there might be, I wouldn't let anyone try," she said gently, but he knew her too well not to hear the threat. After a moment, Giulia said something that stunned Elijah: "He's dying…" His lips parted, but what was there to say? Her husband…was dying? He had only returned to her now…because he was ill, Elijah realised… "Whatever he's set in motion, he's considered it worth dying for." She sighed, and for a second her features crumpled as she looked down, at her hand, where her rings glinted in the sunshine; the diamond petals of an antique daisy ring glittered beautifully, as if recently cleaned. She licked her lips delicately, squeezed her fist, and tucked her hand back into her pocket, sighing heavily, "We made promises to each other; there is power in vows. All I can do is respect it; and trust him." She turned those silver-grey eyes to Elijah, widening with earnestness as she hoarsely beseeched, "Trust me."
"I trust you…" Elijah said softly, and clarified, a little stronger the second time, "I trust you…" And, since they were being so honest… "Mikael has blackmailed Damon and Stefan into committing the sacrifices on his behalf."
Giulia blinked: He had stunned her. "Is he compelling them?"
"No," Elijah admitted. "He has threatened to kill you and Zita if they do not."
Giulia blinked again, stunned, again. Her lips parted, her eyes widening, and for a second she glanced down the path, where Lagertha's golden hair shone in the sunlight and the barks of the little dogs carried over the sun-rich air. "And they're - They're murdering people…to protect us."
"You sound surprised."
"I am," Giulia said plainly, staring at Elijah. "You know how fractious our dysfunctional little dynamic has always been. Elijah…you know it's Mikael, and Stefan and Damon, behind all this - why haven't you done anything to stop them?" She didn't sound accusatory, only…curious.
"My father does not make idle threats. I will do nothing to incur his wrath against you. If that means standing idly by while he commits sacrifices to enhance a witch's power as a weapon against my family…so be it," Elijah said fiercely. "We shall weather the storm, whatever it brings, as we have for a thousand years. But I will not see your daughter harmed, or you killed…never again. It would be my undoing." Giulia's lips parted, and Elijah reined himself in… He sighed, and glanced at Giulia. "He is dying?" For a moment, Giulia's eyes seemed to glitter; the tears that welled never fell, and she sniffed and sounded hoarse as she cleared her throat. "Come here…" He opened his arms, and Giulia, miserable, folded into them.
She rested her chin on his shoulder, and admitted in a hoarse whisper, "I don't know what to do."
"Just be there," Elijah sighed heavily. "Nothing else matters."
"Whatever Mikael's up to…"
"We will survive it. We always do," Elijah reassured her, giving her a squeeze. "I will not allow him to harm anyone in his endeavour to end my family."
They broke apart, Giulia wiping her eyes, and Elijah watched her body-language carefully. "How did you find out Damon and Stefan were helping him?"
"I scented Damon on one of the bodies…and I confronted him, with my hand wrapped around Stefan's heart to get their attention," Elijah said lightly, and Giulia scoffed, her lip trembling but her eyes sparkling with amusement. "They would have kept secret their involvement if it meant keeping you safe. Do they know about your husband?"
"I haven't…spoken to anyone except Caroline and Liz, and not in any detail…" Giulia admitted. "They don't know."
"I'm surprised they're not at your house wanting to catch up," Elijah said thoughtfully. Charismatic and engaging as Giulia was, drawing people to her like gravity…he was surprised her husband did not appear to have the same energy.
"They've never met him. No-one has," Giulia said, and Elijah's eyebrows rose. "We met in Europe and lived there, until Zita was on the way and I moved to New Orleans to work on my PhD. No-one's ever met him, not even Caroline." Elijah was truly surprised by that. He watched her shoulders droop, her features falling, as she muttered, "And they won't have the chance to get to know him."
"It can't be so dire."
"It is. It's why he's here, now," Giulia said, not unemotionally, just…matter-of-fact, as if she had accepted that there was nothing she could do to change it. "What he's put into play…it's his swan-song…it's worth everything. Even me." She looked miserable, even the tiny smile she gave Elijah as she explained, "We met at the wrong time. His visions have brought him this far, there is no stopping them now."
"Giulia, I… I said I will wait for you - what I truly mean is…I am here," Elijah said, wincing slightly, but meaning every word. "Lean on me, if you would like, as far as your honour allows. You will need a friend…we started out so, did we not?" he asked, and Giulia's smile brightened, softened, remembering. "True friends look after one another… I will not abandon you, when you need support the most. May we be friends, please?"
Giulia smiled warmly. "I thought we were still friends anyway…without that, what hope do we have for anything…else?" she asked, her eyes drifting over his face like kisses, yearning and sad. "How am I supposed to refuse when you're being so polite and charming?"
"Is that a yes?" he pressed, and Giulia's smile became sweet and shy as she nodded, almost bashful.
"As you wish…" she said softly, and Elijah smiled warmly. She leaned forward to brush a kiss against his cheek. "Thank you."
He offered his elbow, and she smiled as she looped her arm through, to walk side-by-side along the path. He said thoughtfully, "One hopes there are no R.O.U.S.s out in these woods."
"Don't worry, Buttercup," Giulia smiled, and her eyes turned soft, and sad, and solemn, as she added, "We'll make it through the fire-swamp…somehow… Elijah?" Because he had stopped, gazing down the path at the others, just leaving their sight. Giulia glanced from him to the others and back.
"Giulia… Before we catch up to the others…" he began, and shook his head, then turned to look Giulia in the eye. "I have said…more goodbyes to people I loved, and admired, and respected…than I care to count. They say it gets easier with each one; it is a lie. Every goodbye is exquisitely raw and painful, and as unique as each person you must say it to. And the most recent goodbye will be as devastating as the first, no matter how fundamentally it altered you; they all do."
"It's the first time I've ever had to say goodbye. My father was just…dead. Just gone," Giulia said, her voice catching slightly on the last word. "I don't know what to do… He's - And it's not fair to - to any of us, for me to lean on you. Not the way I'd want to." She reached up to pinch her eyes, and gave a shaky laugh as she said, "I need to stop crying in front of you."
Elijah smiled grimly, and leaned in to kiss her fragrant hair. "Then I shall resolve to make you smile." Her lips trembled, but they did lift at the corners, where kisses tended to linger, winking. "There."
"I love you too, you know. None of this…changes anything," Giulia said, and Elijah's heart stuttered. He had said it to her, that night, and meant it with all that he was. To hear her tell him… "It's not fair of me to say that to you, but I just…I had to say it. I need you to know it."
"I do know it," Elijah told her. He knew it by her actions, even if she was prevented from using her words… "Never doubt that I know that…" For a moment, they stood with each other; Giulia turned to lean her body against his, head on his shoulder, and he luxuriated in their nearness - so did she; she was exhausted, and lonely in spite of her husband's reappearance - as lonely as she had been without his presence. Eventually, they meandered along, and when they reached a vaguely familiar clearing, Elijah frowned. It looked different in daylight, but he still knew it. "Why are we here?"
"Liz showed me a map of the murders," Giulia said quietly, as Lagertha and Zita explored the undergrowth, picking up unusual natural things. "They seemed random, at first glance, but…they're all connected. Sacred triangles; each of the three murders were committed at a location that rests on a telluric current."
"Lay-lines?" Elijah said softly, his eyebrows rising, and Giulia nodded.
"And…each lay-line converges here…"
"Where the witches were massacred," Elijah said, glancing around the clearing with renewed interest.
"I wondered what could be so significant about this place…" Giulia admitted, glancing around. Always, her gaze returned to tracking her daughter's whereabouts. "I'm trying to remember what Willem taught me, that night, about using my sense of smell… But all I get is an overwhelming sense of…eeriness. Something not quite right."
"No, you're right, it does feel different…" Elijah agreed, glancing around. "Listen…how quiet it is. And yet we heard birds all around us as we approached this place; the land here…is still."
"Where are we exactly?" Kol asked, approaching, a deep frown on his face; he had been eavesdropping as they approached. He toed the charred ground where Sheila's pyre had been lit. "I mean - on a map."
Giulia took out her phone, showing Kol a picture she had taken of Liz's map. She pointed their location out. "Here we are…the entrance to the caves where I found the paintings is here…" She pointed to another point on the map, and blinked as Kol disappeared from sight. She glanced around, but knew he was already out of earshot, using vampire-speed. "Kol? Where's he gone?"
"This is why you invited him out here," Elijah said, and Giulia nodded.
"You know this land better than I do…you knew it, long before it was developed," Giulia said, glancing around the woods. "Before the woods were felled, before the quarries and highways… What was it like?"
Elijah sighed as he settled down on a felled tree teeming with life. "Green. Calm, so blissfully calm - and beautiful, too. During the summer and autumn, as the leaves started to change, the wildflowers native to this land carpeted the woods. Native birds sang in the trees; their song woke us before the dawn, and created lullabies for our children to sleep to in the evenings. Great herds of bison roamed freely grazing on the long grasses…" Elijah's voice turned soft, his expression faraway, his eyes glazed with memory. He turned a sad smile onto Giulia, and it was bittersweet. "Had I not been raised in the frozen wastes of Kattegat I would never have appreciated the beauty and the plenty of this land… The days were warm, our summers were long - our crops yielded, year after year… It was not without its dangers, but I remember the wealth as much as anything. I do not mean gold, or precious stones…" His gaze landed on the delicate gold-and-lapis ring on his hand, over a thousand years old, a relic of another time. He shook his head slightly, and he glanced across the clearing as Zita's giggles rang out, grinning deliciously at Lagertha. "I had a home that I had built with my brother, a farm I tended with my wife, to provide for our children… Though our days were hard, our lives were rich…" Lagertha wandered over with Zita, who had a coronet of wildflowers perched on her darling curls. Elijah smiled warmly at her, inviting, gentle. "Zita. Have you ever played I Spy?" he asked conspiratorially, and Zita nodded energetically. "Well, I spy something yellow…I wonder if you can find it."
"Yellow?" Zita gasped. "Where?!"
"We could play Hot/Cold to help you," Giulia said, and Zita grinned.
"Let's spin you around first…" Elijah said, chuckling richly, and Zita went cross-eyed as he turned her gently around, and around, and around, and she giggled drunkenly, staggering away, when he released her. "Are you dizzy yet?"
"Yes…"
"Of you go…" he chuckled, and Lagertha kept a few paces behind as Zita wandered off, neck craned as she gazed around her intently. "Cold, cold, cold…warm…warm… Warmer… Colder… Warmer…"
"I found it!" Zita crowed delightedly. "I found a flower! It's yellow! It's pretty." Giulia watched Elijah, at once soft for him and fiercely desiring to climb him… No-one, looking at Elijah, would ever expect the perfectionist Elijah in his Savile Row suits to have an exceptional way with small children…but only he and Lagertha, in their human lives, had been parents.
They wandered over to Zita, finding her gazing curiously at a tall spire of buttery yellow flowers. "Do you know what it's called?" Elijah asked, and Zita shook her head. "Common Toadflax."
"That's a funny name," Zita giggled, and Elijah smiled warmly. Giulia watched him, and melted, hurting a little at the same time.
"Indeed," Elijah agreed.
"Am I allowed to pick it?" Zita asked; and Giulia loved that she asked. She adn Caroline were big into conservation - especially as they were likelier to spend more time than average on this earth, and wanted to protect it.
"Hm… No, not this one, sweets," Giulia said, after glancing around the woods. "There aren't any others around. We need to leave it for other people to enjoy."
"Okay," Zita said lightly, but she gave the flower a yearning look.
"Here…why don't you take a picture of it," Elijah said, and handed Zita his sleek new cell-phone. Zita's pearly little teeth appeared in a flash as she smiled, tenderly cradling his phone as if cradling crystal; she knew how to use it, though, and her tiny little tongue appeared between her lips in a display of concentration as she took several pictures, using the zoom function. Elijah squatted down beside her, to gaze at the screen as she took some more photographs. "You're very good with that, you shall have to teach Lagertha," he whispered, winking at Zita. "The toaster frightens her."
Lagertha rolled her eyes, but smiled, and Zita's green eyes scanned Elijah's face with an expression close to adoring, as she asked, "Can you see anything else?"
Elijah straightened up, and caught Giulia's eye with a tiny, flirtatious smile, almost as if he knew just how sexy he was, playing with her daughter, and smiled richly.
"I can…and it's white… Shall we play again?" Elijah asked, and Zita nodded, giggling as he gently turned her in circles before releasing her. Again, they played Hot/Cold to help her locate another wildflower. The next Zita found had delicate white petals, and she giggled at the name Elijah gave it - Sneezewort. Then came vibrant blue-purple wild chicory, and Viper's Bugloss, another name that made Zita dimple with delight. She took photographs of them all, and when they were done with the wildflowers, Elijah had Zita close her eyes, and listen. They listened to the birds singing, and crept up close enough for Zita to watch a black-capped chickadee, a tiny wren only his supernatural sight could spot in the undergrowth, a wood-thrush, and a mockingbird. Giulia watched, and was struck by memories long-forgotten, of woodland walks with her dad and a pair of binoculars, and a very old book belonging to his grandmother on birds. She had never seen as many birds in these woods as the hour she spent wandering them with eagle-eyed Elijah, who made the most of it for her daughter's sake.
Kol reappeared, frowning intensely. Elijah saw his expression, and asked lightly, "And where did you disappear off to?"
"I went to the caves. And then to the falls," Kol said fiercely. "You know where we are stood, Elijah."
A look passed between the two. Elijah's molten chocolate eyes widened, and he gazed around the clearing. "You cannot be serious."
"What is it?" Giulia asked.
"The white-oak tree," Elijah breathed. "The tree our mother used in her spell to create us into what we became…here is where it stood? You are sure, Kol?"
"I counted the steps, Elijah. There and back. From the caves to the falls to here, it is the sacred triangle," Kol exclaimed. "These woodlands are one of the few places untouched by development - these woods, the falls, and those wretched caves. How many times did we make that hike?"
"This…this is where the white-oak grew?" Giulia clarified, raising her eyebrows.
"It was…a sacred place, especially to our mother," Elijah said quietly. "The lay-lines you spoke of, they all converge here - it was a place of great power."
"Until we burned the tree to ashes," Lagertha remarked quietly, smiling as Zita punted the soccer-ball to her from across the clearing, the little dogs darting after it as Zeus grumbled and yawned widely, curled up in a sunspot.
"Your mother used to make sacrifices here," Giulia said, and Elijah nodded.
"Yes," he grimaced. "That we massacred a coven of witches here, spilled their blood, even as they sacrificed themselves…"
"The lay-lines remain, and they converge here, now, as they did then, amplifying power…" Kol remarked. "Whatever is about to happen, it will occur here, of that there is no doubt in my mind."
"There are only five more sacrifices to go," Giulia said quietly.
"Then we should all be prepared…" Elijah said, sighing. "Something significant is about to happen…" He sighed, and muttered half to himself, "What are you up to, Father?"
Kol glanced at Elijah, then said quietly, "It's not like him to go to all this trouble. We all know he has the means and weapons to kill Niklaus. Why not just nip into the Klaushaus and have done with it?"
Elijah pulled a face. "Mikael will wish to make a scene of it. In that way you can clearly see his influence on Niklaus: The self-righteous posturing and pageantry…" Never had Giulia heard such disdain dripping from his lips. "They both adore the spectacle. They both require an audience."
"Father never made a spectacle for the sake of entertainment: It was only ever used as a warning…" Lagertha remarked, gently kicking the soccer-ball back to Zita, whose tongue was between her teeth as she focused on the ball with an intense frown, and gave it a good boot. "The more appalling the betrayal, the more brutal the execution."
"Niklaus threw so many tantrums his behaviour lost all impact," Elijah said. "But by then we were so well-trained in doing as he bid, we believed we had earned his abuse for daring to capture some glimmer of joy or love outside of the world he allowed."
"You know, over a century has passed and I do not miss his antics," Kol remarked idly.
"Nor I. At least Mikael was methodical and single-minded in his purpose: To hunt Niklaus down and revenge himself for Mother's murder," Elijah said coldly. "What purpose did Niklaus have for anything he did, but to brutalise us into subservience, the better to shield him from Mikael's wrath. He had us believing he was the sun; and we were merely cold, dead planets orbiting him, having the benefit of his power… Niklaus has done more damage to our family than anything Mikael did through discipline, or Ástríðr did by accident."
"Mother," Lagertha said sorrowfully, her smile fading.
"She would not have condemned us to…this…" Elijah said, gazing down at his own hands with an intense frown. He flicked his fingers, shaking his head, and hid his hands in his pockets. "And she would rather Mikael have killed Niklaus than see the rest of her children brutalised by him."
"Would you have had Mikael execute Niklaus that night, rather than the flogging he was given?" Kol asked. "Able bodies were all that mattered then."
"Mikael had many more opportunities to execute Niklaus after that night, Kol, or have you forgotten? My regret is getting in Father's way…" Elijah admitted. It sounded like the latest in a series of familiar arguments between the siblings that Giulia was only now privy to. "That Niklaus was not executed for breaking the Jarl's law only served to feed the fires of discontent in the village: War would not have erupted. Niklaus would not have become this…monster he is now. And nor would Mother have miscreated us into something so abhorrent that Nature itself turned on us. Our families would have lived, we would have lived…and died, and our children would have lived on after us…"
"It was not Ástríðr's intent to create us as we are," Kol exclaimed, pulling an expressive face. "She wanted us stronger than the werewolves, but not…this. I've had a thousand years to think on this: Something went wrong."
Elijah raised his eyebrows sceptically. "You believe so, Kol?"
"Remember to whom you are speaking, cousin? I worked on that spell with Ástríðr, every detail, before she completed it on her own…" Kol said, and Giulia glanced at him, curious; he had never mentioned that before, in all their talks of magic. "This was not the spell we crafted - and you know how fastidious Ástríðr and I were about our spells."
"I do," Elijah said softly, with a hint of a smile. "If I get my attention to detail from anyone, it is Ástríðr."
Lagertha passed the ball back to Zita, her expression solemn. She admitted, "I miss her."
"She would never have stood for this," Kol muttered, scowling. "Any of this."
"It does us no good to dwell on what might have been. Had Henrik not died…had Lucrezia not disappeared…had Mikael not found us in New Orleans…had Giulia not survived the sacrifice ritual…" Elijah said, casting Giulia a delighted little smile that lit up his entire face, joy radiating from his eyes. "Such thoughts only serve to torment us, compound our misery…"
"What should we do instead, with our eternity?" Lagertha asked gently, smiling as Zita successfully stopped the ball without using her hands.
"Savour moments like this," Elijah said, and applauded Zita as she gave the soccer-ball a boot that sent it sailing past Lagertha into the undergrowth. "Speaking of…I will return in a moment."
While Zita was looking the other way, Elijah zoomed out of sight: A moment later, as promised, he had returned, carrying a wicker picnic-basket, a lined blanket tucked on top.
"What's this?" Giulia asked, smiling, as Elijah handed her the blanket to arrange on the long grass.
"If I recall correctly, long hikes and little children do mix well, to a certain extent," Elijah said, and Giulia grinned, "however, hunger is the deciding factor in whether or not the excursion ends in tears."
"Truer words never spoken," Giulia agreed with a soft chuckle, spreading the blanket out; she sat down cross-legged, leaning back against the felled tree, and Elijah sat beside her, one knee cocked, propped up on his arm, and they watched Lagertha and Zita play as Elijah emptied the contents of the picnic basket, food in recycled-card cartons and glass containers. "You've been to see Ashlyn."
"Quite often, actually; she's asked me to help write her autumn menu," Elijah said, with a fond smile. "Lots of time in the kitchen together…like when she was a little girl." It was always bizarre - except when watching him with Zita - to think that Elijah had raised children, had raised Ashlyn. "When Kol said he was coming to meet you for a hike, I admit…I felt like commandeering you. I thought you could taste-trial some of the new recipes."
"It's a lovely surprise, thank you," Giulia said, and Elijah smiled sweetly as he arranged everything. Ashlyn's signature loaded flatbreads; savoury muffins; a quiche; and salads. Ashlyn's salads were everything. And Elijah had also brought some sweet things: a glossy peach and lime galette scented with rosemary; glass pots of cinnamon rice-pudding with cherry compote and pistachios; and delicate little tarts.
"Wait a minute…has Ashlyn perfected her Mont Blanc redesign?" Giulia asked, scenting the tarts, catching the scent of chestnuts. The froths of whipped cream decorated with candied pecans, crushed, and a sprinkling of grated chocolate.
"It took some doing. Poor Jeremy will never eat chestnuts again. We brushed melted chocolate on the inside of the pastry case, with a good helping of sweetened chestnut purée, and added the candied pecans to add some crunch to break up the silky texture of the whipped cream and chestnut purée. You'll enjoy it; it's not too sweet."
"Ashlyn caught the white whale?!"
"What does a tart have to do with whaling?" Lagertha asked, as she led Zita over, soccer-ball on her hip. Lagertha had absorbed the laidback fashion of boyfriend jeans, tissue-thin t-shirts and tousled, glittering curls, Gyda teaching her how to apply bronzing makeup to highlight her tan, and Lagertha always looked bronzed and effortlessly beautiful, casual and content. It was annoying. But her radiant beauty reflected her nature, which was to its core good, decent - Lagertha was hard-working, dedicated, fiercely maternal and nurturing, and Giulia respected her as a woman, regardless of her vampirism or her status as an Original.
"It's a reference to a novel, Lagertha. Herman Melville's Moby-Dick," Elijah said. "One of the great masterpieces of Twentieth Century literature."
"It's wonderful," Giulia added softly. It had been her father's favourite book - he had always romanticised the sea.
"The white whale is symbolic - men are driven to insanity to capture what cannot be captured," Elijah said, with a sorrowful, internalising look, and Giulia reached out to pat his hand gently, knowing that when his features clouded like that, he was thinking about his brother Niklaus. "Lagertha, write it on your little list."
"List?" Giulia asked, as Lagertha brought out a tiny notebook from the back-pocket of her jeans, and a tiny pencil. Giulia opened her arms to Zita; she climbed into Giulia's lap, and Giulia wrapped her arms around her daughter, cuddling her close for a moment. She kissed her darling curls, and sighed.
"A list of all the things she wants to catch up on," Elijah smiled warmly at his sister. "She's been taking recommendations - I'm surprised she hasn't approached you yet."
"You should remember Giulia settled me into this time, Elijah," Lagertha said, glancing up from her notebook, her eyes so blue, so intense, teasing and warm.
"Ah, yes," Elijah sighed, turning to glance at Giulia. "I suppose we have you to blame for Supernatural."
"I like it," Lagertha said delicately, tucking her notebook away. "And science-fiction and fantasy; everything you need to know is explained within the narrative. Finn enjoys it, too."
Elijah chuckled, and Kol groaned as he dropped onto the blanket; Elijah handed out small plates - white bone-china, never plastic or paper - and cutlery, and they started to tuck into the treats. Giulia and Enzo had always been very good about letting Zita try things, rather than forcing her to: They put things in front of her and let her explore. Giulia put Ashlyn's new caramelised fig, orange and goat's cheese salad on the top of her list of favourites. She daubed the juices up with fresh, crunchy bread they shared by tearing chunks off.
"Have you tried everything, Zita?" Giulia asked, impressed as her daughter nodded vigorously, feeding herself the last forkful of salad. Everything Ashlyn made was layered with flavours and textures, and colour; it was no wonder Zita tried everything, it all looked so appealing.
"I think she deserves a treat," Elijah mused, bringing out the last of the food: Delicate little white-chocolate tea-cakes with passion-fruit curd and a delicate meringue on top; the rice-pudding pots; cracked, gooey chocolate, banana and pecan cookies; and slices of a sheet-cake layered with plums and coconut meringue, sprinkled with almonds. Giulia allowed Zita one of the little white-chocolate tea-cakes, and they each gave her a bite from one of the other desserts so she could try them. As she beamed, and Elijah took a photograph Giulia laughing at Zita, humming delightedly as she enjoyed her treat; Elijah showed her the photograph, Zita's eyes closed, her face alight with ecstasy.
"That's a gorgeous photograph," Giulia beamed. "Would you send it to me?"
"Of course," Elijah smiled warmly. His phone pinged in his hand, and Elijah sighed softly, reading from the screen. He murmured a vaguely interested, "Oh, dear."
"What is it?" Lagertha asked interestedly, watching her brother closely.
"In the spirit of savouring the moment…it shall wait."
"Elijah," Giulia said, arching an eyebrow at him.
He smiled, and told them, his voice dripping with irony, "It would appear that before she went on a merry little jaunt to New York City with Damon, Stefan and Rebekah…Elena released Niklaus. After snapping Isak's neck and chaining him up."
Giulia blinked, then smirked. "So her rehabilitation is not going particularly well."
"It would appear not," Elijah smirked at his screen, and showed it to Giulia. "Well, look at that…Isak's learned how to use emojis."
"Wow. That's expressive," Giulia said, raising her eyebrows. "He has a gift with GIFs."
"Gyda's doing," Elijah sighed, shaking his head. "She's a terrible influence."
"Is she still holding your wardrobe hostage?" Giulia asked, her lips twitching, and Elijah seemed to suppress a shudder.
"I have yet to receive a ransom note," he said, and Giulia smiled. "It does concern me."
"It's nice to see you so relaxed," Giulia admitted: His Savile Row had been his armour. When they had lived together, he had dressed more casually - if at all.
"All your doing," Elijah said warmly.
"Don't blame me."
"I shall always credit you with my happiness," Elijah murmured, leaning close to brush a kiss against her cheek, and she blushed delicately.
"What is a picnic without cocktails?" Kol asked, cutting through the tension, digging through the picnic-basket.
"It's barely midday, Kol," Elijah remarked.
"And I have to drive," Giulia added sadly. "Unless - Zita, do you think you're old enough to drive?"
"I can drive."
"Can you?" Elijah asked, his eyes popping as his jaw dropped.
"Mm-hmm," Zita nodded, beaming at him; she was very taken with Elijah. Like mother, like daughter. "Spencer taught me how to drive."
"Spencer and I have been working on a pedal-powered go-kart," Giulia explained to Elijah. "He's very generously offered to let Zita borrow it for Halloween. We've been decorating it, haven't we?"
"I made sprinkles," Zita said enthusiastically; they had been working with polymer clay to create the 'sprinkles' and things to decorate Zita's kart. "Where's Gyda?"
"She's gone shopping," Elijah said, suppressing a shudder. Zita frowned, cocking her head to one side as Elijah's phone started to ring.
"You're very popular," Zita remarked, and Lagertha and Giulia laughed softly, Elijah smiling as he accepted the call.
"Rebekah. Hello…what's…?" He trailed off, and Giulia beamed as Zita turned to kiss her, wrapping her arms around Giulia's neck for a cuddle. Elijah's voice was tinged with amusement as well as derision as he asked, a moment later, "Tell me you're joking. This is laughable."
When he had hung up, Lagertha asked sharply, "What has happened?"
"It appears…that Elena attempted to seduce Stefan, and stuck Rebekah with vervain during the ensuing altercation, before snapping Damon's neck…and stealing his car," Elijah said, his features glittering with amusement. Giulia tucked her face into Zita's neck, trying to smother her scoffs of amusement. "Are you hiding a smile?"
"She stole Damon's car?" Giulia clarified, her lips twitching.
"What on earth could have happened in New York?" Kol asked, exasperated. "It's a vampires' playground."
"What's happened is likely Stefan rejected Elena, and this is her throwing a tantrum," Giulia said, smiling at Zita. "They underestimated her."
"Well, Isak will not make that mistake again: He is on the war-path," Elijah said disinterestedly.
"He'll have to get in line behind Damon if she so much as scratches the paintwork on his Camaro," Giulia grinned.
"She's abandoned her emotions…" Elijah said softly, glancing at Giulia. "You don't seem upset by this. Or…anything, really?"
Giulia shrugged, gazing warmly at Zita as her daughter started to tidy away their plates. Giulia glanced at Elijah, as Lagertha smiled and helped Zita tidy up. "This was her choice; I won't waste a moment's effort on her. I just worry about Matt and Grayson…and a little for Isobel, too. The things she's done have consequences…being a vampire doesn't change that. Anyway…what's the rest of your day going to look like?"
"Gyda is insisting on a movie-night," Elijah said, the glint in his eyes betraying the playful shudder he gave; he was looking forward to it. "She has never seen Jurassic Park."
"Never…? Oh, right… She was daggered in the Eighties…" Giulia reminded herself. "She gets to watch it for the first time. Lucky."
"What about you? What will you be doing?" Elijah asked delicately.
"Spencer's coming over later, we're making pizzas. The dough's rising, the kids will roll it out, top it any way they like - and then they have to eat it!" Giulia said, with a grimace. There had been some unique combinations created in the past - but the kids always ate them, because they had made them. "We'll play some card-games and I'll work on Zita's Halloween costume." She added, grumbling, "I just have to figure out my new sewing machine."
"Sewing machine? You heathen!" Elijah clicked his tongue. "Has Chocolat taught you nothing?"
"Yeah, that life is too short for hand-stitching!" Giulia smiled, and Elijah laughed.
"Speaking of Chocolat…I had an interesting phone-call with him the other night… He reminded me that it has been a full decade since the solstice gala," Elijah said, looking thoughtful. "I would not presume to overstay our welcome at the witch-house…but I could not help but notice that the ballroom's sprung floor had been meticulously restored."
"It would be a shame to waste it," Giulia said, and Elijah grinned.
"Well…something to look forward to," he said softly.
A.N.: This chapter turned out a lot longer than I'd expected! I hope you enjoyed. I don't know if I've said before, but my Lagertha is literally a carbon-copy of Lagertha from the TV show Vikings! If you don't want to commit to the show, Rav3n Edits on YouTube has done an amazing tribute video called '(Vikings) Lagertha - Valhalla', it's gorgeous. Actually, I took a lot of inspiration from Vikings for the Originals' human lives.
