The Other Side.

It was a dreadful place. Though, what else could one expect from Hell itself?

A never ending yellow light irradiated from the pitch dark sky. There were no stars to be seen. Not even the sun. The place should have been scalding. Or warm, at the very least. But it was not. There was always a chill in the air. There was always a quiet shiver of anticipation, as the unforgiving sand devoured the forgotten idols of humanity.

Of all things, what Mikael hated most was the sand banks. And yet, he could not deny the beauty of his surroundings. It was asphyxiating and very appropriate for a place of eternal torment. Still, he hated how the inexistent wind raised the sand into the air, revealing the remains of fallen Empires, only for it to be devoured the next instant.

Mikael always fought to find a safe heaven, a place to sit and take his feet off the sandy ground. This time it was a medieval fallen column. But he knew his refuge will soon be devoured too.

As he watched the wind uncover a burned cathedral, Mikael felt a hand softly touching his shoulder. His eyes widened as Esther sat beside him. She never came looking for him when he died. He always resented her for such neglect. Though, as her hand fell over his, he studied sorrows expression. It'd be too painful... he concluded.

"The spell is almost ready." She declared, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I'll be back with them soon." She sighed, a small smile shaping her lips.

Mikael sighed, looking away from his wife. He fidgeted with his arm ring.

"It's a wretched idea, my love." He muttered, uncertainly.

"They need us." She urged, squeezing his hand. "Our children need us, Mikael."

He chuckled. "They aren't children anymore, love." he sighed softly, biting his lip. "They haven't been in such a long time..."

She scoffed. "They will always be our children." Her voice was an angry whisper.

Mikael shrugged. In the distance, an airplane appeared on the top of a dune. They both watched in silence as it slid down a valley. Soon, it was gone.

"What about that boy you have?" Esther asked abruptly. Her voice was high and sweet. Though her eyes jumped around, nervously.

Esther glanced furtively at her husband, studying his changed expression. Though, she should have known better. As soon as her eyes fell upon his face, memories of their life together flooded her mind. She had forgotten how beautiful he was when his eyes were lost in thought. Oh, what I wouldn't give, she pondered despite her best efforts, to kiss his lips one last time...

Still, his serious posture reminded her of the nights before a battle, when he stayed up, gazing into the fire. Esther felt as though a knife was cutting through her heart. The memories of children, of little Elijah, Niklaus and Kol crawling over their father's lap, took her breath away. The larger smile on Mikael's lips when his sons fell asleep with their heads rested over his chest... Esther was sure the memories would kill her.

"What about him?" He replied, shifting in his sit. Mikael's lips were contorted into a tense line. His eyes fixed on the changing ruins ahead, as though he feared facing his wife.

"Won't he worry?" She went on, awkwardly. Her mind still half lost in remembrance.

Mikael scoffed. "The boy knows better." A smiled played on his lips, but a shadow passed through his eyes.

Esther shrugged. A high metal tower appeared in front of them. Esther bit her lower lip as she watched it fall.

"Have you never wondered—," she began, uncertainly. "Who the boy's family is?" Esther did her best to hide any hints of jealousy in her voice.

She had not been present when Mikael "found" Hunter. She was watching over their children; weeping over the mistakes they made and cursing herself for her sins. Then, suddenly, her husband had a new son who he loved and treasured. Gods, Esther thought more frequently than she liked to admit, a child he raised better than our children! And yet, she had to come to terms with Mikael's love for the boy. Part of her—a small and sorrowful part—appreciated the influence Hunter had over Mikael. For over a thousand years, the stubbornly sweet boy was the only one who could carve a laugh out of her husband's lips.

"No." Mikael blurted out, his mouth twitching slightly. "The boy is mine." He declared, a strange solemnity dwelling on his voice.

Esther scoffed, but restrained herself from asking any more questions. She knew jealousy would drown her every word if she tried to continue on the matter. Everything about Mikael's posture seemed to deny the idea that the boy was his by blood. And yet, he seemed afraid to confirm such a theory. Although, he needed to deny all possibilities of the boy not being his own.

He is in denial, she concluded, triumphantly. Esther was aware that not even Hunter knew about his true parentage.

Though, perhaps she was the one in denial. Esther's heart broke with the mere idea of Mikael loving another as he had loved her. It was selfish, and she knew it. Perhaps it would have been better if he had moved on with his life... But their story could not end in such a way. His promises of love were still fresh in her mind, and Mikael rarely broke his promises...

Besides, Esther knew her husband would die a thousand times before he gave up on their family... But he already has, a voice whispered from within her. Esther desperately tried to remember how many times her husband had been to Hell for their children. How many times she had watched Mikael carved a stake into his own heart? How many times had he begged his Gods for forgiveness as he failed to die...

Her heart sunk in her chest. Rebellious tears threatening her eyes.

The two of them sat in silence. They watched as castles raised from the ground, strong and magnificent, only crumbled to pieces—as if the Devil had made them out of sand.

Esther sighed. "It's time." She glanced at her husband, quietly begging him to take her hand into his.

Mikael frowned. But he took her hand and pressed it over his lips. Esther could not help but smile. A warm feeling filled her chest.

"Will we remember this, my love?" He asked. His voice low and tender.

Esther scoffed. "Why would you want to remember Hell, my darling?" A smile still shaped her lips.

Mikael chuckled. "I believe that I should," he sighed, his eyes shined with a tearful light. "I deserve to..."

Esther's hand flew to his shoulder. She opened her mouth. All she wanted was to comfort him, reassure Mikael he was not a monster. And yet, she found no words to do so. How could she? It would be a lie to tell Mikael he did not deserve Hell for his actions. But she was no saint herself. And yet, who decided what their punishment should be?

"Come with me." She blurted out, her eyes blurred by tears. "We, we can fix it—," she urged, with a breaking voice and trembling lips. "We can be a family—,"

"No." He mumbled softly. He glanced at her, a smile playing on his lips. "I'd like to stay here..." he sighed, his shining eyes running back to the horizon.

Esther sighed. "You know," she began, trying to control the bitterness in her voice. "Nature will never let you stay here, Mikael..." she declared, darkly.

Esther half expected Mikael to turn and face her again. This time with a defiant expression. She wanted to believe she could use his stubbornness—as she often used to. She could convince him; talk him out of his ways. Esther held such belief close to her heart and did not wish to forsake it.

And yet, Mikael did not turn to face her. He smiled as he raised her hand to his lips one more time.

"I know," he muttered, as he kissed her hand. "But still..." his eyes shined with a restless light as he watched the wretched horizon.

Esther felt her heart falling, as it had more than a thousand years before. A distant memory of her husband's eager eyes, as he watched the sea in wonder—long before any lines marked his face—, crawled into her mind.

With a swift move, she kissed his cheek. "I love you," she tried to mutter, as magic pulled her soul into life.

Mikael's heart rattled in his chest. He jolted and turned around to face his wife. A broken 'I love you' burned in his tongue. But it died before it left his lips. Mikael blinked, feeling the sand devouring him. Esther is gone. The realization consumed him.

The sand seemed to catch up on his loneliness. The Devil—ever so kind—always liked to play with the old Viking. From underneath Mikael, the column—his heaven—crumpled quietly. Mikael soon found himself sitting on his father's old throne.

The sand raised him to the top of a dune. As Mikael glanced down he saw the bloodstained crowns and swords he gained over his years of conquests.

In front of him, the sand revealed his victories: the walls of cities Mikael conquered for his father, the castles he burned down, the mountains he climbed. All of it. The empire Mikael built with his blood, but never inherit. But why would he? It was Stoick's Empire, and Mikael's father hated sharing air with others. Why would Stoick ever let his first-born son inherit his greatest achievements?

No, Mikael concluded darkly, as he always did, My father always meant for me to be the proud heir of, he chuckled bitterly. Nothing in particular...

Still, as his eyes swept through the ruins of his life, he smiled. Losing his empire was not his greatest failure.

In the distance, he caught sight of their small hut in the New World. Laughter echoed from it. Soon, what Mikael dreaded the most happened: memories flooded his mind. He could hear his children's voices:

"Father! Father!" They would run up to him as he arrived home after a long hunt. "We missed you!" They would always say.

Niklaus always arrived first, and Mikael could not help loving his boy more for it. Klaus would quickly wrap his arms around his father's waist, as though he was afraid the others would steal his father from him. Mikael always hugged him back, just as tightly, and thanked all his Gods for keeping his impulsive little boy safe while he was gone.

Elijah always came soon afterwards. Though, he would stand quietly aside, waiting as Kol and Rebekah ran up to their father. If any other child did such a thing, Mikael would have thought they did not want to hug him. But he knew better than to think that of Elijah. His son always beamed like a fool when Mikael pulled him into a half hug, while Niklaus still refused to let go of Mikael's waist.

However, Mikael never second guessed the excitement of Kol and Rebekah. His younger ones always had their hands shot up in the air, begging Mikael to take them in his arms. He always raised Rebekah first—since she was the more insistent of the two. She never wanted him to let go of her, once she settled in his arms. But he never failed to take Kol. His little wizard always seemed disappointed for not being the first to be picked up. Mikael tried to make up for that by holding him a while longer.

Finn would always arrive last. He held Esther's hand as they walked towards Mikael. Finn was always more distant, closer with Esther than with his father. Mikael hated to admit that he was jealous, but he was. Though, Finn could never hide his excitement when his father mess gently with his hair, just before they entered their hut. Finn too beamed like a little fool when Mikael tried to hug him. It gave Mikael some comfort to know his baby boy still loved him, even if they were not close.

And, oh, how they all shivered in anticipation when Mikael mentioned the presents he had brought for them...

A heart-sickening hollowness rattled in Mikael's chest. He held back a scream as his face fell into his hands. Sobs cut his breath before he could control himself. He slowly raised his eyes to the pitch dark sky. A shiver ran down his spine as he took a sharp breath. Mikael was ready to yell, to dare the Devil to come face him, to crawl his way back to the world of the living. He would even beg, if he had to. He would have done anything. What he could not bear to do was listen to their voices for another second.

When his throne crumpled from underneath him, Mikael felt a breath of life being shoved down his throat. Something pulled his soul away, as the deserted wasteland shifted once again...

A/N:

So fun fact: this chapter was inspired by a analysis of an old(ish) animation movie called Sinbad, the Legend of The Seven Seas. Cause I loved that movie as a kid.

Anyway, I'd love your feedback on this chapter.