Hunter knew Mikael would never forgive him for interfering with his hunt. Or at least, that was what he always said. Though Hunter had messed around a few times and it only ever got him a somewhat quick scolding. Sure, he had never interfered so directly, but Hunter was certain it would not be too much of an issue. Or at least, he hoped it wouldn't.
Hunter's hands were shaking when the spell transported him to a strange porch. He felt lightheaded as his eyes found Mikael. Hunter listened to his father's cruel words. He had never seen Mikael talking to Klaus. He felt a lump in his throat. His father sounded different from when he talked to Hunter.
Even after wars, Mikael never sounded so vicious... maniacal... Hunter forced himself to push the thought out of his head. He stepped forward and prepared to do one more spell.
It has to be alright, Hunter concluded. The screamed left his lips soon after. It worked perfectly, just as he had planned. The Vampire and Hybrids fell to the ground. In the chaos, a warmth possessed Hunter's chest.
It will be alright. The thought lingered longer, why wouldn't it be? After all, Mikael had smiled when he saw Hunter. His father dropped his most sacred weapon after he saw him...
Still, they didn't have much time. The spell would soon wear off. It was a miracle he and Francesco had done the spell at all. Hunter had to get Mikael out of there. He was sure it would take lots of magic and convincing (perhaps even a miracle) to make Mikael leave. But as Hunter watched his father's face get brighter in the brief time their eyes met, he was sure he could do it. They'd all be home in no time.
But then...
The floor dissolved from underneath him.
Francesco jumped over him, breaking the spell. He then dragged Hunter to bed of their hotel room and made him sit down. Though, Hunter could still smell the flames.
His lips and hands trembled as though he was about to start one of his "little earthquakes". Francesco was scared Hunter would bring down the building. But Hunter was having a hard time breathing; he did not even consider using his powers. He sat on the bed, quiet and still.
Hunter had seen Mikael get hurt many times through the centuries. He had thought Mikael to be dead fewer times. But it happened. Now, however, his mind could only think about his father's burning body.
Mikael can survive everything, was Hunter's first coherent thought after what had felt like an eternity of silent dread. He only barely managed to take his mind off the flames.
He, like all of Mikael's children (biological or otherwise), held the belief that Mikael could withstand anything. Still, some sparse images of Mikael almost losing some fights quickly passed through his mind. But in all such instances, almost was the prevailing word.
Mikael was always drunk on those occasions. When he was sober, the fights were much quicker. Mikael rarely started fights, though he always loved to swipe in and end the discussion. Especially when one or all parties involved were somehow annoying. Considering how temperamental Mikael could be and how he based much of his personality on his warrior's skills, Hunter always found it funny to watch Mikael after a fight. Mikael never gloated. Hunter always half expected him too, but he never did. The most he would do was let a half smile play on his lips after the fight. Still, only briefly, as though he was afraid to gloat. Mikael was often proud of himself, but only when he had fought to help someone.
When the fighting was only about his own annoyance at others, he almost looked ashamed. His eyes changed in those moments; as though something savage from within him was trying to get out. And Mikael would rather die before he let such a thing happen. Hunter never asked him about it. He had asked about everything. But he knew better.
And, besides, Hunter's favorite 'bar fight' story involved Mikael losing control. It happened in Italy, during the early 1500s. Mikael had not heard of Freaky Nicky of some time. Still, after leaving Hunter alone in a dirty tavern, Mikael had gotten himself in a fight with a witch. She somehow managed to de-age the Viking, turning Mikael into a twelve-year-old version of himself.
Hunter could not breathe for solid ten minutes after he first saw Mikael. He knew children are not tall or strong. But he was not prepared to see just how adorable Mikael was as a child. He was a short and scrawny kid, with big blue eyes, very messy hair and thin red lips. The sort of child who could easily serve as a model for one of those paintings with angels and such things, Hunter had thought at the time, with a big grin shaped his lips. It had taken Hunter all of his strength to fight the urge to stroke Mikael's curly blond hair.
Hunter had always thought Mikael's short temper resulted from his years as a warrior and as a father of six (in Mikael's words) "foolish, impulsive, stubborn and damn near suicidal" children. And yet, Hunter was barely surprised when "little Mikael" stabbed the tavern table—ever so dramatically. Mikael then jumped over three men, who were twice his size and had been annoying a young servant boy. He fought ferociously—kicking and punching like a mad squirrel.
Hunter laughed, but got up to drag Mikael away from the fight before he got hurt. Though, he should not have even bothered. Mikael had thrown all three men off his feet before Hunter had stopped laughing. Even if impressed, Hunter was not even surprised. Although, later on, he remarked that Mikael had not used very "honorable" fighting techniques to win the fight. Mikael eyed him, annoyed, but said nothing of it. Still, a soft smile shaped his lips...
So he was always like that, Hunter remembered concluding. He's just a hotheaded mess...
But he grew out of it, Hunter thought numbly as Fran handed him some water. Mikael is not as reckless and impulsive as he was in his youth... Hunter concluded, running his hand over his arm-ring. He felt his heart sinking in his chest. Mikael had given it to Hunter when he came of age. It was a ritual of passage; it meant Mikael would treat Hunter as an equal from then on. Mikael had an entire speech prepared for the occasion. He went on about courage, responsibility and "picking your battles".
"This will keep you safe," Mikael had said. "For as long as you wear it." Hunter alwaysrememberers fondly the way Mikael had touched his shoulder. "But it doesn't mean you should go around getting into trouble," was his father's main conclusion. "Just because you won't die, does not mean you can be stupid, boy!"
A small smile played on Hunter's lips as he remembers his father's speech. He wondered if Mikael had practice on the mirror or if he had given his children a similar speech before. Although, Hunter would rather think Mikael's speech was unique to him. Though, the idea Mikael loved him as he loved his own children (which Hunter knew he loved tremendously), always warmed Hunter's heart.
Hunter sighed. The nice memories had drowned his mind so far. But what would he do if memories were all he had left? His heart jumped around in his chest. Tears slowly making their way to his eyes.
"No." Hunter muttered to himself. "Mikael has to be alive." He forced himself to conclude. "He can survive anything..."
Still, a vicious voice screamed within him: Mikael cannot survive Niklaus. If any other of his children had been the one to carve the Stake in his heart, he would not have died. Hunter was sure he would have, somehow, pulled something off. Mikael would have survived. But not Klaus...
Mikael barely ever survived talking about Niklaus. In a thousand years, he only ever told the entire story once. To Hunter. He was the only one who knew how much Mikael still loved his son. Though Mikael could not help himself and cursed Hunter to forget the story. Still, Hunter remembered bits and pieces.
Hunter sometimes joked about Klaus, trying to get Mikael to talk more about him. It only ever worked when Mikael was drunk. He would laugh softly at Hunter's joked and, occasionally, say a thing or two about how Klaus was foolish and reckless and how it all almost drove him mad. But then, he would go quiet. Dreadfully quiet. Then, his eyes were lost to memories of a past he longed to have back.
Hunter could see how broken and tired Mikael always was after his hunt. After he had seen his children again. And yet, he knew better than to ask Mikael to stop looking for Klaus.
Mikael can survive everything, Hunter tried to remember his father's strength. But never Niklaus...
Hunter sat on the bed, staring at the dirty blue wall. He heard Fran say something. It sounded important. But he could not make out the words. Francesco left soon afterwards.
Hunter kept fidgeting with the note Mikael had written him. It would have become a wrinkled mess if Hunter had not enchanted it. At first, it had enraged him. After ten years, Mikael had the nerve to only leave a note, Hunter brooded over it for hours. But now the small piece of paper brought him some comfort.
It's too little, he repeated numbly. If Mikael knew he'd die, the thought burning his mind, he would've written more.
"Mikael is not dead," he muttered softly, almost as a prayer. "I'd know if he was." his fingers ran to his arm ring. "I'd feel it in my bones..."
Memories of Mikael flooded his mind, and tears blurred his vision. With a swift move, Hunter got up and stormed out of the room.
"I'll be dammed," he muttered, as the chilly evening air greeted his lungs. "If I let him die," a soft smile shaped his lips, "before I had time to kill him myself..." his blue eyes shined with a devilish yellow glow as he strolled through the street.