A.N.: To reward us all for getting to the end of the working week (unless you work weekends, in which case, you have my sympathies, I've been there) an update! Happy Friday!
Resurgam
17
Independence Day
She stood watching the children playing, giggling as they leapt and danced among the gleaming bubbles, kicking around a little Disney soccer-ball, their faces painted with butterflies and Spiderman masks, smeared with mustard from the design-your-own hotdog bar, hands sticky with syrup from the sundae stand, having a marvellous time: Enzo and Tyler were conspicuous amongst them, beers in hand as Enzo gently punted the soccer-ball to Zita, who was beaming from ear to ear, hand clasped in Spencer's as he grinned at his cousin.
Nearly a month had passed since the vintage festival; she swore Zita had grown. Spencer definitely had. And he was the most rambunctious Giulia had seen him in a long time, thrilled about Tyler's visit: He had been told about their boys-only camping weekend with Ric and J.D., and Giulia had had a twenty-minute phone conversation with Spencer the other night, asking her, how easy it would be to make jambalaya while they were out in the woods? They were taking their bikes and baseball mitts and Spencer was already excited to go hiking with Tyler.
It was heart-warming - and at the same time, pretty devastating - to see such a change in Spencer: He was excited, open…he was happy. It was very clear he thought Tyler hung the moon; the only person he lit up for like this was Giulia.
"You know, you keep going, I think Spence is gonna have a new favourite," Giulia warned Tyler, smiling. "You'll have to move back to town."
"Not a chance; he was telling me all about your cooking lessons…" Tyler said, panting as he jogged over, grabbing a fresh bottle of water to down. Though it was his vacation, and it was a party, Tyler had arrived with Matt and Elena, and had decided to be designated driver so that hard-working new dad Matt and Elena could both have a drink. Grayson was four months old and hard work, and Elena showed little sign of getting involved in mothering him.
Giulia suspected why Elena had put in the effort to actually join Matt on a rare outing: She hoped that Stefan may put in an appearance at the party held at his house.
She had been half-expecting a frantic phone-call from Elena or a wary Matt last night; but her phone had been quiet, except for the usual messages, a brief chat with Caroline to go over in excruciating detail everything that had happened in the garden yesterday, and a quick FaceTime with Marcel to discuss some of the projects and job-specs he had sent her via Tyler.
There had been nothing from Elena, regarding the bombshell that was Klaus's return.
That Giulia hadn't mentioned Stefan's return was one thing; not telling Elena about Klaus?
Perhaps Giulia was due an explosive diatribe with nuclear fallout from Elena. Until then, Giulia watched her daughter playing with Penelope and Spencer, J.D. and Ruth and a few other children, and put it out of her mind that Klaus was lurking somewhere.
Her chest had residual pangs, the reminder of what-might-have-been. Giulia wasn't going to deny that fear had gripped her, rousing on her back with her chest cavity torn open; her first thought had been for Zita. What would have happened to her if Klaus had given one sharp twist of his wrist?
Could she survive re-growing her own heart?
So far, thankfully, she had successfully avoided testing the hypothesis that surviving immolation indicated she could also survive having her heart ripped out.
It didn't bear thinking about: She had defended herself viciously, and would continue to do so.
She wasn't so arrogant that she couldn't acknowledge when she needed to be afraid: She was just afraid for different reasons than someone like Elena was. Elena had abandoned her child; Giulia's first thought was to protect him. To worry about her daughter's fate when she fought off her attacker.
But she was living in the moment: She was watching her daughter play in the lingering sunlight of early evening. She refused to let the likes of Niklaus Mikaelson ruin this brief, shining time, the one childhood Zita would ever have, the one opportunity Giulia would ever have to watch her daughter grow up.
"Hey, Spencer mentioned something about a go-kart?" Tyler asked, drawing Giulia's attention back from her thoughts on Klaus - always a dark and dangerous place to linger. Giulia smiled.
"He's been interested in learning how to look after the bicycle Mason and Hayley gave him for Christmas," Giulia said. "Mason mentioned I'm good with engineering, and he loves Wreck-It Ralph - I mean loves…more than Zara loves Hercules."
"Wow. That much?"
"Yeah! So, he got some kids' books out of the library on simple mechanics and engineering, and, well… I introduced him to Junkyard Wars," Giulia said, grinning a little guiltily. "When I've had him for the evening, we've been working on building a pedal-powered go-kart from scraps."
"Well…guess that's a little safer than a trebuchet," Tyler grinned: Giulia had been known for her mechanics projects during their childhood. She had not tried to launch Tyler in said trebuchet once… They'd belted a comforter around him first…
"I got him a gum-shield," Giulia smiled, waving a hand dismissively, and Tyler laughed, chugging down his water. He shared the bottle with her, and Giulia drained it.
"She's cute, Giulia," Tyler told her, watching Zita hover around Spencer like a bumblebee near nectar, entranced. "And she's so polite. She shares everything…kind of a shame she doesn't have any siblings."
"She says Spencer's her brother," Giulia said fondly, but there was a small pang at Tyler's throwaway comment: She did sometimes worry about Zita growing up an only-child, the same way Giulia had. She had been lucky; she had Tyler and Caroline growing up - the three of them, only-children, had bonded over that fact. Each time they saw each other as kids, they had been thrilled to have playmates.
Not all siblings were friends, she knew that, Damon and Stefan were examples of sibling dysfunction that were hard to ignore; but she did worry about Zita growing up lonely.
Giulia had been there.
But there wasn't anything Giulia could do about giving Zita siblings, now. Not unless she made some hard choices she wasn't in a position, or in any hurry, to consider.
Not that she wouldn't adopt Spencer in a heartbeat.
She hoped, in the best way possible, that adopting him never became an option.
"It's so cute how he is with her," Tyler chuckled, watching his cousin. Spencer called him 'Uncle' Tyler, due to their age-gap, but it didn't really matter; even nine-hundred miles away in New Orleans, Spencer idolised his older cousin.
"They remind me of how you two used to be, when you were little," said a voice, and Giulia glanced around. It was only in a crowd that she really noticed how young Stefan looked. Beside Tyler, he looked, well…adolescent.
"Hey, Stefan," Tyler nodded in greeting, and Stefan gave the guy-nod in return, acknowledging - and respecting - their shared past in one gesture.
"Hey," Stefan said, half-grinning. "Some party. It's still weird seeing so many people at the Boarding House."
"About time it earned its keep," Giulia said, and Stefan nodded, laughing softly. She frowned thoughtfully at him. "So where have you been hiding?"
"Out of your sight, out of my mind," Stefan said, with an ironic smile. "You, uh, you haven't seen Rebekah, have you?"
"I haven't," Giulia said honestly; Willem had heard Rebekah's neck snap, had heard Elijah murmur, "Hello, there… I think we have a little catching up to do," to Elena yesterday. That may account for the radio-silence from Elena; also, she was probably still pissed at the idea Giulia might have blocked Stefan making contact with her…
Stefan sighed heavily. "I'd hoped she'd be here… Klaus is apoplectic."
"He's here?" Tyler scowled, and Giulia sensed his roiling aggression, the tick of his heart-rate rising, power emanating from him, heat simmering from his skin… Giulia rested a hand gently on his arm, and Tyler took a few calming breaths; it wasn't like him, now, to get worked up so easily. But this wasn't some backwaters bayou werewolf looking to fight his way up the pack ranks; this was Klaus. Tyler had dealt with him before - as Stefan well remembered.
Stefan looked Giulia in the eye, trying to communicate something. "Yeah…" He glanced at Tyler. "Uh, is… Is Spencer Mason's son?"
"He is," Giulia said slowly, frowning.
"Maybe Tyler could go play soccer with Spencer?" Stefan suggested, with subtle urgency, looking Giulia in the eye. His tone was loaded with emphasis when he said, "Mason might be distracted for a little while."
"Tyler…stay with them," Giulia said quietly, meaning the children, and Tyler nodded, sighing heavily, understanding instantly.
"Yeah. Text me if they need to get inside the house," he said in an undertone.
"Have you seen Rebekah?" Stefan asked, as Giulia waved at Zita and wandered away, Tyler yelling excitedly and hauling Spencer over his shoulder, carrying him down the makeshift pitch to score a goal using him, the children giggling madly as they swarmed around him.
"She went after Elena yesterday," Giulia said softly. Stefan hissed out a breath, shaking his head disbelievingly.
"Well, that was stupid. How did you stop her?" Stefan asked, staring.
"I didn't," Giulia said honestly. "I didn't see who did." Not a lie. "Stefan, what's going on?"
"Klaus snatched Mason; they're in the walled garden. He's demanding I turn someone into a new vampire and drag Elena to him," Stefan said, and Giulia raised an eyebrow. "Is she here?"
"She's here; she thinks I told you not to contact her," Giulia said, giving Stefan a look.
"I've been a little tied up." It came out glib. Giulia glanced at him, as she wandered around, casually, as if she was just walking with her cousin; not that she was urgently seeking allies. "You made Rebekah a profile on Facebook; she found my old photographs, Giulia, saw one of Elena dressed up for the Mystic Court float. She had her hair curled like Katherine and was wearing Rebekah's necklace…"
"They were bound to make the connection eventually," Giulia said negligently. She had debated the wisdom of linking Rebekah with anyone she or Stefan knew on social-media, for that very reason: But like getting shots from the doctor, and losing your virginity, it was just better to just take a breath and get it over with. It was going to pinch; it was going to be uncomfortable; but it was over and done with and they could move on.
The shell had to break for the bird to fly.
"You weren't worried?"
"Worried? A little," Giulia said softly. "We just have to limit the damage. You can't see Sheila Bennett anywhere, can you?"
"Maybe by the bar?" Stefan suggested. "Do we need a witch? Wouldn't Bonnie be better?"
"Bonnie's no longer a witch," Giulia told him. "Come on. Why did you mention Spencer?"
"Klaus could scent werewolves here," Stefan told her. "Mason; that girl who bit Damon… He didn't see Tyler or I'm sure those bubbles the kids are playing in would be red with his blood."
"That is gruesome, Stefan."
"Yeah, well, that's the kind of mood Klaus is in: Sadistic," Stefan said. And coming from the Ripper of Monterrey that was saying something.
"When you said you were tied up…"
"Oh, yeah, Rebekah had me chained up, draining me of blood…vervain, you know; not helpful when you're trying to compel information out of someone…" Stefan sighed. "She had me tell her everything about Elena."
"No wonder she was displeased," Giulia said, feeling for Rebekah in spite of everything. There was little that hurt more than seeing the person you loved fall in love with someone else - maybe finding out about it after the fact…
She caught sight of Sheila, indeed at the bar, sipping a julep, laughing with some of her oldest friends, her mah-jong group. Giulia strode off toward her, the long skirt of her breezy white maxi-dress whispering around her ankles. Of all the outfits, she had chosen a white dress… Damn it, it was July in Virginia, and she was hot-blooded; she was hot and didn't want to wear a bra!
Well, she would not be putting up with anyone's attempts to dye her dress scarlet today.
Out of habit, she reached back to start braiding her hair; she had already pulled it up into a braided up 'do to keep it off her neck, keep her cool. She had always braided her hair before a confrontation, something that hearkened back to her early MMA and self-defence training. A braid was the only thing her dad had ever managed to do with her hair, and only because Liz had taught him. As she approached Sheila, she glanced around, wondering where Liz was…the V-Squad hopefully wasn't needed, but she pulled out her phone just in case, and sent a text to the special group-chat on WhatsApp: Originals. Only Klaus and Rebekah weren't added.
Klaus at BH. Walled garden.
After her FaceTime call with Marcel last night, Elijah had finally managed to get a call through to her; after showing her the caves, Klaus's plans had been revealed by a devastated Rebekah. As plans went, well…it wasn't even a real plan.
It didn't count as a plan if it took longer to say it than it did to think it up: Snatch a werewolf, turn a vampire, slaughter the doppelgänger.
No specifics: No thought to the pulverised moonstone; or the cosmic event like a full-moon, solar-eclipse or meteor shower required to fuel a spell of that magnitude.
Why tonight? Why hadn't he waited? Snatched them all on a full-moon?
He was unravelling.
Giulia glanced up into the sky, noting the sliver moon bright and high in the heavens; the sky was touched with fuchsia and amber from a dying sun that gilded the tips of trees and gave everything a strange vibrancy, all of the colours amplified, nightingales competing with the cicadas as the sun dipped behind the trees, signalling the end of a long, sunny, vibrant, happy day: The fireworks would start soon.
She approached Sheila, smiling; leaning in to kiss her soft cheek was enough for Sheila to get a reading from their contact. She linked arms with Giulia, who asked if she could borrow her for a few minutes to talk pre-delivery Bonnie stuff…
"It's the Old Ones, huh?" Sheila asked, and Giulia nodded. "What's goin' on, baby?"
"Klaus is here, throwing his weight around. Just…follow my lead. Channel me if you need to," Giulia said, and Sheila nodded sombrely, anxiously scanning the lawn for Bonnie, for Penelope, who was giggling around her glittery pink pacifier, running around with J.D. and Enzo, who caught Giulia's eye across the lawn and nodded: Whatever happened, he had eyes on Zita. "Can you make sure no-one hears what's going on?"
"Oh, I'm three juleps in, baby; child's-play," Sheila practically purred, closing her eyes and humming to herself, touching her palms to several large blooms as they wandered past a thriving flowerbed.
"Oh, no," Stefan grumbled, sighing in exasperation as Elena appeared, striding toward them with the kind of frantic, purposeful look Giulia remembered. Her eyes were bright with intent, there was colour in her cheeks from the warm day, and she gasped as her hands fluttered to her throat, approaching Stefan.
"Klaus is here!" she told them.
"Yeah, we know," Stefan said shortly. Elena's eyelashes fluttered.
"Well, what's going on? Why is he here?" she demanded. "Stefan, what's happened…you don't…you don't even look worried."
"It's handled."
"Well - what's going on?" Elena asked.
"Elena, look, just - stay out of it," Stefan said fiercely, getting agitated, annoyed: This was the Ripper with a conscience, the Ripper now able to pull back from tearing his victims apart, but the Ripper, still. He had none of Sober!Stefan's patience, and any regard he had for others was based purely on self-preservation. "'Kay - you're not needed here, and you're literally just a liability. Just go back to your family and enjoy the party, you're not involved or even relevant anymore."
"Stefan," Giulia warned quietly, as Elena gasped, repulsed by his sharp attitude.
"Come on, we've got something that needs seeing to," Stefan told Giulia, and strode off toward the walled garden. Tears glinted in Elena's eyes, and her jaw worked as if she was chewing a bee; she turned on her heel, hair whirling around her sunburned shoulders, and she took off.
"That's not good," Sheila muttered, sidling up beside Giulia, who watched Elena hurry toward Matt, who was cuddling Grayson in his special Fourth of July outfit, talking and laughing, relaxed.
"It wasn't kind," Giulia sighed, glancing at Sheila, then at Stefan's receding back. "But it was necessary. C'mon…"
Someone had erected one of the official Garden Closed to the Public signs outside the painted door to Rose's favourite walled garden: Giulia smelled blood on the air, and exchanged a look with Stefan, who entered first, before she and Sheila both bypassed the rope across the doorway and entered the garden.
"Oh, my…" Sheila gasped, stunned, and drained her julep.
Giulia wished she had one herself: Mason was sprawled on the grass, which was spattered with his blood, viciously mauled but healing rapidly as a disfigured Klaus forced his blood on him.
Yellowed eyes pushed apart, ears slanted, face sharpening and distorted, angular and grotesque and smeared with blood, half man, half wolf, hands turning into malformed macabre paws tipped with blunt claws, mottled blackish skin bristling with patches of thick hair, the werewolf trying to break free of its vampire host's body… No longer slave to the moon's cycle, the wolf in Klaus was now bound to the vampire nature imposed on it by a witch's spell that had created her children into the world's first, most powerful vampires: In ten years, Klaus had never succeeded in transforming fully into a wolf, or controlling his grotesque shifts.
"You gotta be kidding me!" Stefan sighed, throwing his hands up in frustration - or resignation. He sounded so much like Damon that Giulia smiled. "Again?" He walked over to Klaus, and gave him a vicious kick in the back, making Klaus howl and rear and snap his bloody, shifting fangs. Stefan rained punches to his face, so fast his arm was a blur even to Giulia's eyes, and she shielded her face from the sun with her hand, watching. Blood spurted, bone snapped, and Klaus growled, but crumpled, the wolf in him backing away from the predator it was, curiously, subservient to - afraid of; wanted to attack, but dreaded doing so.
"What in God's name is that?" Sheila murmured, staring.
"Where Klaus is concerned, the Almighty's seen fit to strike him off the cosmic docket," Giulia said grimly, watching Klaus. She didn't dare approach Mason, who was quietly healing on the grass, catching her eye; she signalled him silently, and he nodded, letting out an agonised groan, collapsing against the grass.
"How d'you expect to get anything done if you throw a tantrum every five goddamned minutes?" Stefan asked loudly, exasperated, as a strangled sort of yelping howl issued from the base of Klaus's chest, and he shook his head aggressively, panting. His face became less lupine, but no less angry.
"I've told you before," Klaus growled, eyes glowing amber and black, shifting fangs distorting his speech, "NOT - THE - FACE."
"You know what - ?" Stefan narrowed his eyes, and hit Klaus so hard he spun and collapsed on the ground, his jaw broken.
"All this, without a drink in my hand," Giulia sighed, though she felt it did indicate personal growth. Had this been ten years prior…
"Here," Sheila sighed, handing Giulia her julep cup, which had been refilled.
"Now, that's practical magic," Giulia said, taking a grateful sip, smiling. She sighed and turned her gaze on Klaus, who was, surprisingly, writhing and growling low but struggling to pull himself off the ground.
Klaus's yellow-and-black eyes landed on Giulia and Sheila.
"I see you've been distracted from your task. Pardon him, ladies; Stefan will be leaving the garden now to sire a baby vampire," Klaus said, through gritted teeth, as he pushed himself into a standing position, the patchy fur disappearing, his jaw healed.
"Uh, Stefan won't," Stefan said blithely, hands in his pockets.
"I beg your pardon?" Klaus said softly.
"Uh, yeah, it's well past my ten-year deadline, Klaus; I'm done," Stefan said, with a mocking smile. "Good luck with the hybrid army and all that, you know, sixty-eighth time's the charm, I'm sure that Mason is The One. I'm sure your fates are intertwined; you were just destined to meet."
"I have not given you leave to abandon your duties," Klaus said silkily.
"I put in my ten years' hard time, Klaus; I'm a man of my word. Ten years. No less…no more," Stefan said, still smiling that irreverent, snarky little smile Giulia remembered from Ripper!Stefan. "Ten years for my brother's life. That was the deal. 'A decade-long bender'… Well, it was a hell of a ride, Klaus; I'll cherish the memories, always. I'm afraid it does leave you a little short-staffed when it comes to this whole recreating-the-sacrifice thing. Really, best of luck; can't imagine anything could possibly go wrong." He shot Giulia and Sheila a grin.
Klaus's eyes lingered on Sheila.
"I assume you're the reason Elena is walking around unharmed," he said coldly.
"You're damn straight. And you oughta know better," Sheila warned, her heartbeat steady as she looked Klaus dead in the eye. "A thousand years inflictin' your will on witches, you mighta learned somethin'. You're looking to recreate that spell: You can't."
"A thousand years, people have been telling me what I can't do; I delight in proving them wrong…shortly before ripping out their tongues," Klaus smiled, and Sheila gave him an unimpressed look. "Your witchy interference caused some rather undesirable side-effects, as you've just seen. So, I'll give you one opportunity - just the one - to find the fix."
"There's no fix," Sheila said, quietly but sternly. "The girls' survivin' changes nothing. Giulia burned up; Elena bled out. Both girls died. They just happened to have insurance."
"Insurance that is royally screwing with my plans."
"Change them," Sheila said, with a bite. Her eyes lingered on Mason. "You took a second to focus on anything but your own fear and ego, you'd realise."
"Realise what?" Klaus growled.
"You can't create more like you, Klaus," Giulia said: She didn't want him to hear it from Sheila, to fixate on her as the source of his disappointment - and the target of his sadistic ire. "Nature creates all things in harmony."
"All sun creates a desert," Stefan murmured, and Sheila nodded.
"Mm-hmm. And you…the will of a witch imposed over Nature, magic beyond memory… You're a miscreation: Nature won't stand for any more of you," Sheila told him, not cruelly: She was matter-of-fact, a little sozzled, but truthful. Giulia could scent her honesty on the air, with the last of the lingering roses, and Mason's blood.
Klaus growled, throwing himself toward Sheila, eyes glowing black-and-amber, and Giulia stepped in, bodily blocking him from getting in Sheila's face, stiff-arming him in the chest. He growled at her; she hissed at him, showing her fangs, black bleeding from her pupils. She caught Stefan's double-take.
"You are a werewolf, created into a vampire by magic: Your ancestry is eternally at war with the magic imposed on you," Giulia said shortly. "Do you imagine for a moment Nature would stand to allow more of you to be created?"
"It should have worked! I killed the werewolf, I drained the doppelgänger, I killed the vampire - "
"Pardon you, but if we're going to hash out the details, I killed myself," Giulia interjected coolly, sniffing: Klaus narrowed his eyes in loathing. Taking that pleasure from the sexual-sadist Klaus had delighted her, one of her last acts before dancing into the flames. "I knew that the true outcome to you lifting the spell was the last thing you wanted…and everything you deserved."
"It should have worked - they should rise -"
"You deluded yourself for a millennium," Giulia said coldly. "Nature would never stand for the unfettered creation of more abominations like you."
Klaus growled, launching himself at her; Stefan stepped in, this time.
"What's all this ruckus?" said a breezy voice, and Klaus shuddered. Rebekah. Giulia didn't take her eyes off Klaus as he turned to stare at Rebekah, who wandered into the garden fiddling with a stalk of lavender between her fingers, dressed in an airy powder-blue dress that glowed softly in the dusk, her hair loose and wavy and glinting in the moonlight. Though it was a sliver moon, it was bright. Rebekah looked almost otherworldly: Giulia's heightened senses saw her in the starlight as clearly as she saw in day, the way the moonlight played over her skin like a pearlescent glow, her fair blonde hair turned to glinting platinum in the moonlight, her blue eyes vibrant and fathomless, shadowed by her lashes, the gentle curves and hollows of her ageless, unblemished face lovingly caressed by the moonlight.
Pygmalion may have fashioned his statue after Rebekah, so divine was she by starlight.
"Sister… Where have you been?" Klaus rumbled, looking dangerous. Rebekah paused, gathering up her hem to avoid Mason's blood on the grass, flashing daintily-pedicured toes encased in strappy sandals.
She paused, gazing down thoughtfully at Mason. "Such a handsome face." Her smile was warm and breathless, gentle, beguiling - and brought to mind the calm before a violent summer storm full of mesmerising lightning. Her sapphire eyes flicked to Giulia as she straightened up, her rosebud lips twitching, and she sauntered over to Stefan, pressing a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Darling…you do forgive me for our little snit, don't you?"
"A couple days being pitchforked is the cherry on the sundae after a decade with your brother," Stefan murmured, and Rebekah's laugh chimed delicately like crystal bells.
"I didn't realise we were having a party," Rebekah said, eyeing Mason like a juicy fillet steak. "Is he a present?"
"Off the menu, I'm afraid," Stefan told her.
"A shame. I do like to play with my food first. And you'd make such a delicious snack," Rebekah cooed at Mason, still hanging off Stefan.
"Rebekah, where have you been?" Klaus asked, watching her shrewdly.
"Oh, here and there," Rebekah smiled delicately. "What's this I hear, about abominations?" She lifted her sapphire eyes to Klaus, and there was something like defiance there, gentle and unassuming, but enduring as a mountain.
Klaus stared at his sister, his lips parting; perhaps he had anticipated she would defend him, be angered by the hurtful term used to describe her brother. She didn't; and she wasn't.
"Every time I attempt to turn a werewolf into a vampire hybrid, they die," Klaus said, addressing Sheila. "I need you to find a way to save my hybrids…and I have ways of making your family suffer until then. You've had ten years' reprieve while my experiments failed. Lives were lost because of you."
"Those people are dead because you killed them," Giulia said coldly. "They never rose, did they? Not one of them ever even woke up to transition."
Klaus stared at her, then said softly, "You've been keeping your cousin well-informed, Stefan."
"She kept me sane," Stefan said glibly. "Poor way to repay her, bringing you back to town."
"I'm gonna make this…perfectly clear. Even you should be able to follow these simple instructions," Klaus said silkily. "I will be performing the sacrifice ritual on the next full-moon: I require a doppelgänger, a vampire and a werewolf. If I have to tear through the entire congregation of partygoers to illustrate the lengths I'll go to, to get what I want - I shall do so…with relish."
In an instant, he shifted: Sheila grabbed Giulia's forearm, power surging, and she narrowed her eyes on Klaus. The same way witches learned to put vampires down with merely a look, Sheila now glared dangerously down at Klaus: Caught in mid-shift, his entire body started to shake, and the noises he made would haunt Giulia for years. Inhuman, unnatural - neither Man nor beast; a monster in torment.
Sheila was stopping him from allowing the wolf to try and break free, from shifting into his truly monstrous state - he could tear through the partygoers like a hot poker through warm butter, if left unfettered. Giulia watched him, and immediately thought of the Fenris - or Fenrir - wolf… Was there a way to create a 'Gleipnir' to bind Klaus, a chain as thin as ribbon forged by dwarves from six impossible things?
And she realised: Klaus's vampire nature was his Gleipnir.
It contained him as nothing else ever had or could.
"I don't know what kinda ho-hum witches you're used to pushin' around," Sheila said, "but I am not them. You will behave yourself while you're visiting, d'you understand?"
Klaus was hissing, growling, whining, all at once: the sound managed to be both threatening and pathetic.
Giulia felt the surge of power lift as Sheila lifted her spell from Klaus, who growled and whined and glowered at her with amber-black eyes full of hatred. He despised witches, Giulia could tell: A lingering distrust of those who practiced what he could never understand, or harness himself, true power. Witches were a constant reminder of the powerful mother he had murdered.
Sheila sighed, letting go of Giulia's arm.
"Thank you, Sheila," Giulia murmured, and Sheila nodded, silently dismissing herself from the garden. She was exhausted, Giulia knew, and shaken; most importantly, she was awfully sober, after that display of power. Giulia didn't want her around for what might happen next; if her dress had to make the sacrifice, so be it.
Klaus was apoplectic with rage.
He dived for Rebekah, sank his fangs into her neck, cutting off her scream as he bit and chewed and savaged, spraying Stefan with her blood as he spit her trachea into the hydrangea.
Giulia was shocked by his senseless violence toward his own sister: Rebekah dropped, and Klaus towered over Stefan, emotionless as he said, "Procure the doppelgänger, Stefan; take your pick of fodder for the sacrifice. And to ensure I have your attention, I shall savage Mason's young son."
"You will do no such thing."
He had been too distracted savaging Rebekah to notice; but as Sheila had left the gardens, other people had soundlessly entered.
They had taken up posts around the garden, beyond the flowerbeds, overlooking the lawn where Mason sat staring at the bloody heap that was Rebekah, her vertebrae visible, reknitting where Klaus had chewed through her throat to them. Towering figures illuminated by starlight, ominous, menacing - predators.
At the sound of Elijah's quiet, accented voice, Klaus froze.
Rebekah's blood dripped from his shifting fangs as he panted, eyes amber-black and glowing eerily in the dark.
"Elijah?"
"No greeting for us, brother?" said another voice, and Giulia watched Klaus's reaction to Finn's voice, clear and handsome on the warm evening air, striding up beside Elijah.
"Don't worry, Finn; he prefers to pretend you don't exist," Isak said coldly.
"I envy his luck!" quipped Kol, grinning like a madman as he draped himself against an old fig tree.
"Has Rebekah still not learned to fight?" Lagertha sighed, hands on her hips as she looked down at her younger-sister on the grass. "Look at this mess…"
"And such a pretty dress, too," Gyda clicked her tongue.
All of them, gathered here, encircling him - the malice in the air made the fine hairs on Giulia's arms and the back of her neck prick up; she was surrounded by predators who were united in the hunt. They were vampires; and yet in that moment they were as unified as any werewolf pack in their single-minded purpose - ensnaring their weakened prey: Klaus.
"We've not been introduced," Gyda said, smiling kindly at Mason and Stefan, who looked stunned, perhaps sensing the power emanating around the garden, making it seem colder than it was, the sky velvety sapphire and star-studded, the sliver-moon highlighting the sunburned rose-petals and parched lawn now steeped in Rebekah and Mason's blood. Gyda smiled coaxingly as she held out her hand first to Stefan, then Mason, telling them, "We are the Originals. I am Gyda. Over there is Finn; Isak; and Lagertha; Kol you may know."
"You were in one of the coffins," Stefan said wonderingly, gazing at Gyda's face as if in recognition, trying to place her, finding it difficult with the healthful glow and sparse cosmetics, the cropped chestnut hair. Gyda smiled from her eyes.
"Well done," she said softly.
"Rebekah did this," Klaus hissed, horrified, betrayed. Elijah chuckled, and across the garden, he briefly caught Giulia's eye, sharing a smirk.
"She'd adore taking the credit for this," Elijah said warmly, "though I imagine she'll be sore about missing your reaction."
Stefan blinked very quickly, then gazed at Giulia for a long moment. He realised it before Klaus. And he was beaming, when he said, "This was all you."
All eyes went to Giulia, who stood by the apple-tree, watching, listening. She gave him a measuring look, and then smiled, with an expressive half-shrug that managed to look humble and imperious at the same time.
"Wait…how long ago?" Stefan asked, grinning.
"Since New Orleans," Giulia said, smiling, and Stefan laughed.
"How did you do it?"
"Sheer brilliance," Giulia said, winking subtly. Stefan started to laugh, and he just kept laughing. He had tears of mirth glinting in his eyes, his laughter echoing through the garden as Rebekah sighed, moaned, and sat up, hand going heavily to her throat as if waking hungover and disoriented. Gyda offered her hand, and she helped pull Rebekah to her feet. The two eternal teenagers stood - one statuesque and blonde, the other petite and dark - side-by-side, for the first time in centuries, expressions almost identical as they half glowered, half smirked at Klaus - Elijah shone from their expressions.
"You did this?" Klaus breathed, shocked, and Giulia gazed back at him.
Carefully choosing what to say, Giulia explained gently, "The only power you had over people was the power they gave you: To break Niklaus Mikaelson, I only had to break what gave you the illusion of power…the tyranny you force your family to live under…the terror you inflict on the empire of enemies scattered across the world… Fear is the only power you have ever had: Fear makes power brittle. So I stole your family; and I destroyed the legion of enemies protecting you from the one person you have always dreaded."
"And who would that be?" Klaus sneered at her, his bravado strong as he tried to ignore that his siblings were inching closer, so, so slowly, predators to their core. A thousand years as hunters, now united to take down their greatest prey.
Giulia looked Klaus in the eye, and said, "Mikael." He blinked, shocked.
"And now that your enemies are disposed of, Niklaus…I welcome Mikael's next attempt to get close enough to kill us," said Elijah softly. "We have much to discuss…about Mother."
The evening turned cold: A chill came, not from cloud-cover or the wind whipping up. It came from the Originals. The predatory chill that emanated from them was enough to stop the breath in her lungs, have her heart pounding; her survival instincts were on overdrive. Goosebumps covered her arms, and she shivered.
"Mother? You wish to dredge up ancient history, Elijah? Mikael slaughtered our mother; I have kept us one step ahead of Mikael ever since."
"Yes, looking back, it was always convenient how you managed to so precisely predict Mikael's actions - but of course, you alone knew his true motivations, were so keen to keep them secret from us. I admit, a thousand years is a very long time to keep such a devastating truth to yourself," Elijah said lightly. "I would ask how you did it, managed to bear such a burden… The answer is, of course, that you found it no burden at all. As mother toiled to reverse the damage she had done, you tore her heart from her chest…"
Klaus's breath froze in his lungs; he seemed unable to look away from his eldest brother, even as the others circled, their expressions the picture of malice. They promised retribution; and they promised that it would be painful.
"I believe this is something worth discussing, as a family…and no family meeting would be complete without the last, estranged member of our family… Brother, would you care to join us?"
Giulia heard Klaus's sucked-in breath of true shock.
"Willem?"
"Thanks for the invite, Elijah," Liam sighed, striding into the garden, and Klaus's face contorted with something like grief, recognition, longing as his eyes flared amber-black and he made a lupine motion of greeting, almost…ducking his head. Submission.
Whoever Klaus had been, whoever he thought he was, and whatever he thought he should be…the werewolf in him recognised a true alpha.
And it was afraid.
Willem was dominant as hell, an affable goofball with a quick wit, generous heart and a nature built on self-respect, compassion and the wisdom of experience. He was nurturing, dominant and protective: He was everything that Klaus was not.
His siblings would learn that: They would be rediscovering their brother, estranged for a millennium. If only they took the chance that had been presented to them. The werewolf in Klaus already sensed Willem's power, and responded as a maddened wolf might, hesitant and suspicious, aggressive but afraid to challenge the alpha.
Elijah sauntered over to Giulia, and lingered; he rested his hands on her waist, drawing closer, and in the starlight he leaned in and pressed a tender, savouring kiss to her lips. She melted into the kiss, tired and exhilarated, remembering his scent, his kiss, his molasses-rich eyes gazing at her as he nuzzled her nose with his own. He stamped a tiny kiss to her lips after, the way he always used to, a tender little kiss and intense eye-contact that said: You are mine, as I am yours. Her heart ached.
"The fireworks are about to begin," he whispered, and Giulia gazed back at him, unable to move, suddenly overwhelmed with grief. Elijah had kissed her. Kissed her as if she was his. Kissed her as if he was hers, utterly.
He gently squeezed her waist, and she nodded, gazing at him for answers that did not come.
Elijah turned to Stefan.
"Mr Salvatore. I take it to understand you fulfilled the terms of your deal with Niklaus. On behalf of my family I can only offer an apology for the appalling treatment you endured, and for the atrocities you were forced to commit under his tyranny. You are free to go." Stefan frowned sombrely at Elijah, thoughtful and a little confused; but he caught Giulia's eye, and he nodded at Elijah in a way that almost said, Thank you. He wandered over to Giulia, taking her hand; she took Mason's, and they left the garden.
They left the predators encircling their prey, intent on the kill.
Mason pulled the door to the walled garden closed, and they entered a new world: Some kind of magic had dimmed the outside world as they stood in the garden, and Giulia could hear nothing from the garden, Sheila's magic shielding the partygoers from ever realising anything horrific was happening just yards away.
The live band was playing, people were dancing, children were laughing and playing with sparklers and the teenagers were sneaking beer and pretending they liked the taste: The scent of food lay over the land like the dew glittering on the lawn as the temperature dropped with the sunset.
The party was gearing up for the finale, the fireworks.
The children were still being guarded by Enzo and Tyler; they were playing, supervised, with sparklers, entranced as they traced shapes in mid-air. Giulia and Mason joined them, Mason gripping Giulia's hand, hard, before grinning and hugging Spencer, relief emanating from him like a tidal-wave. Zita waved at her, bright-eyed, her sunflower face-paint smeared on her arm where she had wiped off grape-popsicle juice, grass-stains on her dress, her lip bloody, but happy.
"What happened?" Giulia asked, horrified, gesturing to Zita's lip. Giulia squatted down to peer at Zita's lip, which looked like two little pearly teeth had punctured it, swollen and sore and a little bruised.
"Little bit of a collision on the football field," he said warmly. "We learned about spatial awareness."
"Ruthie and me butt-headed each other," Zita answered sadly, and Enzo chuckled, stroking her curly hair.
"It was spectacular," he told her. "You couldn't do it again if you tried."
"Hi, guys! Are you ready for the fireworks?" Caroline asked, beaming, carrying fresh lemonades over. "They're gonna start in a couple minutes, after the Mayor's speech. I guess we have to seem like we're paying attention… Is everything okay?" She asked it in an undertone, and Giulia nodded.
"Yeah, the situation's under control," Giulia said softly, as the Mayor climbed onto the stage where the live band quieted down.
"Hey," Matt said, appearing with Grayson asleep against his chest. "Have you guys seen Elena?"
"Uh…no, not for a little while," Giulia admitted, scanning the crowds in the dark: Her senses, much more heightened than any humans, always strengthened exponentially at night. More like her brief experience of a vampire's acute senses. She scanned the crowds, which she could see as perfectly in moon- and starlight as she could sunlight, but couldn't spot Elena anywhere.
"She said she needed something out of the car for Grayson, but she never came back," Matt said, and Giulia glanced covertly for Stefan, who was lurking by the bar, bored by the Mayor's speech. "She was upset…you know what, I'm gonna go ask Rose if I can put Grayson down up in the loft. If you guys see Elena, tell her I'm looking for her?"
"We will," Caroline said, and Matt wandered off, searching faces. "What's that all about?" Caroline asked in an undertone; Giulia told her about Elena's brush with Stefan.
"That wasn't kind," she said grimly.
It was only a few minutes before Matt reappeared, Grayson tucked in the crib set up in the spare-room in Rose's loft. Matt was agitated and upset, bordering angry: Elena had taken the car. Matt didn't know how long ago, or where she had gone; she wasn't answering her phone.
"I just don't understand why she'd take off," Matt said, looking nonplussed. "We were having a good time, for once."
"Well, look, you can borrow my car to get home; you'll need to drive yours back for Gray's car-seat," Caroline said calmingly, digging into her handbag for her keys.
"Yeah, and I'll drive," Tyler sternly told Matt, taking the keys Caroline offered him. "Elena probably went home. We'll find her."
"I just don't know why she'd run off without saying anything," Matt said, sighing, defeated.
They all jumped, when the first hissing squeeeeeeee of the fireworks preceded a crackling BOOM that made Giulia shudder, clapping her hands over her ears, forcing her blocks in place, caught in what felt like the London Blitz - to humans, the explosion of fireworks was a mild irritation: To her sensitive hearing, she was stood in the midst of an ammunitions factory going up in flames.
She slammed her blocks in place, disoriented as intense vertigo hit her: Zita burst into tears and raced for her, huge tears dripping over her sunflower face-paint, crying as she clamped her little dimpled hands over her ears, launching herself at Giulia.
"I don't like it!" she screamed, shivering in Giulia's arms as she hauled her daughter onto her waist, the fireworks crackling and booming in a volley, scarlet and emerald-green and fiery white-gold shimmering in the air, illuminating the partygoers, and Giulia cuddled her daughter, covering her ear with her hand as Zita buried her face in Giulia's neck, shuddering and crying.
Over cover of the fireworks, a howl rent the air.
This was no pain-saturated shrieking shout, the kind of noise Klaus made: This was a call, clear and strong.
Zita was shocked into silence, lifting her face from Giulia's neck, her face still shining with tears, eyelashes spiky with them as she gazed over Giulia's shoulder, toward the walled garden, the woods beyond it. Too stunned to remember she was upset, Zita sat quietly in Giulia's arms, panting softly, her forgotten tears dripping from her chin; she watched with a wary fascination, gazing after the source of the sound that meant more than words could say.
Tyler was grimacing, his eyes clamped shut, and Matt said his name concernedly as Tyler grunted, bent over almost double; Mason shielded his glowing eyes with his hand as fireworks lit up the night-sky, shimmering to faded gold, and Spencer was frowning behind them, at the woods.
Giulia watched Zita, her reaction, the breathless anticipation on her tiny girl's face.
She had heard the call, and so had Caroline, but made no reaction: They exchanged a look, and as the last of the fireworks faded and the smoke drifted across the woods, Hayley stalked toward them, her eyes glowing amber in the dark. Always quickest to anger, Hayley found it harder to control her temper than either Mason or Tyler, even with their moonlight rings. And very often with Hayley, fear transformed into rage.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded.
"The call of the wild."
A.N.: Oooh, what's happening?! What really bugs me is that this 15-page chapter would be a few scenes in one episode… And I'm looking at my plot-outline going oh my god I've got a long way to go. Is this how G.R.R. Martin feels? Please stay with me!
