A/N: I posted a family tree on my tumblr at bkgrlrandomthoughts. tumblr . com, hopefully this will clear up confusion. Also in this chapter I added Kol. Technically the show didn't say he was there in the time of Katerina, but they also didn't say he wasn't. And I love Kol and have plans for him.

I did a super fast edit of this chapter. If there are mistakes, I apologize. Guaranteed I'll probably go back by tomorrow and find errors, cringe and then regret posting before editing it 10 more times. So bear with me.

Ridin high, when I was king
Played it hard and fast, cause I had everything
Walked away, won me then
But easy come and easy go
And it would end

1492 AD

Scrathclyde, England

"How did you come to make Trevor's acquaintance?"

Katerina smiled, fingering her goblet, "His family has lived on Lady Lockwood's lands for years."

"Yes, Lady Lockwood, our neighbor is noticeably absent from society."

Absent was to put things mildly. The Mikaelsons had been allotted their lands from Henry the VII, a year past, taking residence there in the last few weeks and had yet to see their widowed neighbor. Had it not been for Trevor, they may never have had a good reason to make a first pass at Katerina, meeting her in person, ensuring that she was the doppelganger. There was not a doubt in Elijah's mind that she was a Petrova descendent, the sight of Tatia, close to five hundred years later, painful.

"Lyanna is still in grieving, come early October it will be a year since her husband passed."

"Yes, we heard of Lord Lockwood, it's unfortunate. Did they have any children?"

"No."

Before Elijah could question her further, about her caretaker and, dig for relevant information, since Trevor had been so vague, Katerina interrupted, "And where is our host this evening?"

"You must excuse him. He likes to make a bit of an entrance."

As if on cue, there was stir from the other end of the large room, guest greeting an unseen man. As Katerina waiting for Niklaus's reveal, Elijah watched her.

She's not Tatia, he told himself and continued repeatedly as Niklaus introduced himself, catching Katerina's eye, sparking her interest as his brother had intended.

"Klaus," he asked her to call him. It was the new name he'd taken since returning from the east, years previous, cured of hallucinations and thin with the details.

The rest of the evening, he watched as his brother charmed Katerina. He played the gracious host to his guests as Niklaus made his move. But no matter how many times he would smile, make simple conversation and pretend he didn't care, he could already feel himself slipping back into the old ways.

He was foolish, just like Niklaus had accused him of being hundreds of times. He still remembered what it was like to feel, he still remembered what love was like. Months from now, when Klaus would be noticeably absent, withdrawn, ignoring Katerina, brooding over whatever it was that in the months to come would completely absorb his attention, Elijah would lie to Katerina.

He'd tell her he didn't believe in love, just as he'd tell himself that he'd forgotten what it was like and that it was for the best. And when she would reply, telling him that a life without love wasn't worth living, he'd think of the irony of their situation.

She would foolishly follow love straight to her own death. Niklaus would use her affection to get what he wanted most. And Elijah would spend all of eternity regretting that he hadn't said more.

"And how was it?" Lyanna questioned, tirelessly harvesting the Vervain that sprawled out over the south bound land past the estate, rows and rows as far as the eye could see.

"He's beautiful," Katerina answered cryptically.

"And who would 'he' be?"

"Lord Mikaelson." Katerina looked west, to the estate that could be seen over the last hill.

"Is that so?" she grunted, clearly doing most of the work as Katerina prattled on about some new infatuation she had. Having come from the south five months previous, she had more fled from her home than left on her own accord. Desperate to be rid of their scandal, Katerina's father wrote Lyanna in haste, clearly willing to separate from Katerina at any cost; he had offered her to Lyanna, a distant, newly widowed relative, as a companion.

Although not in need of such services, having Lilly, Lyanna accepted out of curiosity. What she found was a little more than what she originally bargained for. Katerina was more gregarious than Lyanna ever hoped to be. Three years her junior, she had arrived and quickly made her presence known, drawing men to her like flies to fresh meat.

For a widow that was a bit of a recluse, Lyanna found Katerina to be amusing, charming and although at times shallow, a good friend. However there were times when she worried about Katerina's influence on Lilly.

"If you ever left Greyshaw mayhaps you too would have seen."

"I had business to attend to."

"You are hiding out," Katerina teased. "You should hear how people whisper about you. You'd think you were an old crone, grey hair, wrinkles, and barren."

"Well I am an old widow," Lyanna snarked.

"Hardly. Elijah was asking after you."

"Elijah? Lord Mikaelson? The famed, Lord Mikaelson, the one you called," she paused for effect, "Beautiful, was it?"

"Yes, Lord Mikaelson, but no, his brother, however he is equally as pleasing."

"Is she the one?"

Elijah and Niklaus looked at one another before Elijah answered, "Yes."

Clearly pleased with himself, Trevor beamed.

"Her guardian was noticeably absent," Niklaus commented, looking out the window to the estate that sat cradled between the moors below the hill. They were too close now for obstacles.

"Lady Lockwood? I don't foresee Lyanna being a problem, she hardly ever leaves Greyshaw. Lord Nathaniel Lockwood, died a year past," to elicit interest he added, "Murdered…"

Lockwood, Niklaus hadn't heard that surname since 1114AD.

"They never found who committed the crime. There have been whispers however, that it was a pack dispute between him and Lord Harte. That Edmure killed Lockwood himself before he too was mutilated."

Edmure Harte had perished sudden and quite violently, his throat ripped out. No perpetrators found. A widower, his son died of fever when he was still a child. With no one to pass Harte's lands to, Henry the VII bequeathed his favor and the subsequent property onto his new friends of the court, two brothers coming from the east, whom had quickly won the affection of the greedy old King.

"Wolves," Elijah sneered in disgust. The reek of them, carried by the wind, filled the countryside.

"Some say they have controlled the moors for three hundred years, back to the pagans."

"The pack, do they have a leader?" It would be only a matter of weeks, if not already, that they would become attuned to the new predators moving into their territory.

"No one knows. I do not speak with many werewolves," Trevor chided, "However, from those who do have loose tongues, it was rumoured that Nathaniel, before his death, was the pack leader. Now… it's anyone's guess, mayhaps the girl when she is old enough."

"A female pack leader?" Niklaus smirked at the ridiculousness, dismissive. "They have a leader. It would be best if we were aware of him before they are aware of us."

"And Katerina?" Elijah interrupted.

"Katerina Petrova," Trevor started, walking over to a window. "Arrived five months past, with no explanation from Lady Lockwood and no apparent plans to return to where she came."

"How fortunate for us."

"The men, in the local villages, they call it the Garden of Eden," he narrated, as all three men stared out over the moors at the Lockwood Lands. "Richest soil just south of the Solway Firth, no male heirs, a widow, living alone with young Lady Lockwood and Miss Katerina."

"Infested with wolves," Elijah murmured.

Trevor eyed Niklaus, with a look that couldn't be described as anything other than lecherous, before concluding, "Forbidden fruit and all…."

"Wouldn't it be simpler to invite them for the evening?"

Elijah couldn't help but enjoy watching Niklaus squirm as they prepared to enter the abbey. "No, that might seem too forward. Trevor assured me that they visit the abbey each Sabbath. It is a perfect opportunity for you to reengage Katerina."

There were few times that Niklaus wanted Kol there, his younger brother often too impulsive and irritating. But at that moment, he couldn't help but wish Kol could arrive earlier than expected, in time for this little outing. Perhaps the only person who hated Catholic services more than Niklaus was Kol, whom had little patience for any occasion that called for him to be still and silent for more than ten minutes.

It was difficult to say what it was exactly about Sabbath services that bothered Niklaus so much. It could have been the reek of incense as they entered the arched doorways, or the monosyllabic chanting of repetitive phrases. Most likely it was wasting an hour of his time, listening to a fat old man recite lines about an imaginary God and pretend to sit in judgment of the parishioners.

Sliding into the rough wooden pew, Elijah tapped Nikaus's knee nodding in the direction of the front of the abbey.

Of course, Niklaus thought, This hag is probably some old brittle crone, whom is devoutly religious and plans to be annoying restrictive with Katerina. From where they sat, he couldn't see, to refute his suspicions. All he could see was four sets of covered heads. If he strained he could make out bits of their profiles. Dark curly hair covered in heavy red fabrics, Katerina, along with black hair, straight and long, poking out from beneath black wool, possibly the younger Lockwood. Grey hair and wrinkled skin in moth, the Lady Lockwood he assumed. Then finally to the left, another, completely turned toward the pulpit, with nothing to see but dark green fabric; mayhaps a guest or a neighbour.

"Ridiculous," he muttered as he sat through two plus hours of yammering from the priest. For an individual who had lived over five hundred years, that service alone passed slower than the first two hundred of Niklaus's sorted life. To his utter disgust, Elijah seemed to be enjoying himself, listening intently to every word.

If he ever found the decedents of the fool who started this farce of lie about Jesus of Nazareth, he promised himself he'd wipe out their entire line, doing a charity for humanity.

When the service finally ended after the taking of the communion and its blessing, "I give you the body and blood of Christ," the friar announced, lifting the wine goblet to Niklaus' lips.

Blood, now that would be something to that could salvage even a moment of this wasted morning, he thought to himself. Perhaps, he'd treat himself to a snack, the widow Lockwood. The elderly were an interesting flavor for the discerning palate. Some vampires had no taste for it, preferring youth. Similar to how many could not appreciate a properly prepared, bottled, stored and aged wine, instead choosing the sweet, unpalatable sugar slush made from fresh grapes and inexperienced hands. The blood of an aged individual had an entirely different texture to it: the flavor bold and colored with experience, life, knowledge, not just the sweet rush of youth.

As the veiled ladies filed out of the abbey, Niklaus and Elijah stalked after them.

"Katerina," his brother called out, eliciting a sigh of excitement as Tatia's ghost turned to greet them. The sight of her was enough to make him question if he was hallucinating again.

"You love me don't you?" Tatia's breath hot and begging against his skin, close to 200 years past when he'd indulged in, close to a half century of long forgotten heartache, lust and self destruction.

When he met her that first night, Niklaus had been prepared, reminding himself repeatedly that she was not Tatia. It was not the same person. Only an illusion, less real than the one he'd created, cherished and loved for 52 years.

Her face lit up as she saw Niklaus.

"Klaus, Elijah, this is Lilly Lockwood." The girl was young and quite attractive: dark eyes and hair and nice olive skin that looked so out of context in dreary northern England.

"And this must be Lady Lockwood?" He answered, kissing the back of the older woman's hand.

"No, that is Elspeth," from behind, "I am Lady Lockwood of Greyshaw, who wishes to know?" Anne's voice had jumped two hundred years, from the dust of bones to haunt Niklaus.

Both men turned, as if on cue, equally shocked at what they found. Had his brother not thought quickly and spoke first, Elijah might have reached out to touch her, making sure that she was real, calling her Hannah.

"Lord Mikaelson, my Lady," Niklaus chimed in, with careful effort to sound unaffected. Her hair might have been blond, not black. Her accent English, with undertones of the Anglic spoken this far north, not the fluidity of Italian or the more guttural Bulgarian, but she was still Hannah, Anne. The same blue eyes, stared back at him and Elijah, the same face.

They'd been the first to introduce themselves, making it strange the way they looked at her, as if she were interloping on some private moment of theirs.

"Elijah Mikaelson, Lady Lockwood," he offered, recovering, taking her hand, kissing above the knuckles. "We are your neighbors."

"It is you that has taken over the Harte Manor? Then I apologize. I should have come to make your acquaintance much sooner, since we are to be neighbors."

Something about the way he looked at her, it didn't feel right. The one whose name she didn't know, it was predatory.

"We wish to invite you to our home. We are holding a celebration for Lammas Day."

"That would be lovely," Katerina chimed in. But Lyanna said nothing, instead glancing at Elspeth. The old woman looked back at her, knowing what she felt. Elspeth knew Lyanna better than she knew herself.

"We have our own harvest," Lyanna answered, looking back at Elijah. She could see the girls rumple in response. Both Katerina and Lilly, so desperate for entertainment, attention, male affection but there were greater things at hand. They needed to be especially careful as of late.

"Surely, we can spare the day?" Katerina offered, looking desperately at both Elijah and Niklaus. Lyanna would have responded but her focus was redirected to the two men at the gates of the abbey watching them. She knew what they wanted. She saw the way they examined Lilly, unbeknownst to her or any of the rest of present company.

"If you will excuse me," she answered, moving around Niklaus and Elijah before either had time to respond.

Following Lyanna's cue, Elspeth offered, "Come girls. It is time for us to return home."

"Could we not escort you? We are after all, just over the hill." Katerina took Niklaus's arm, as Elijah offered his own to Lilly who blushed in response.

"Do not think I cannot see you," she cursed, in hushed tones, as she approached the men.

"Lady Lockwood, you look lovely this Sunday morning."

"You think you can threaten me?"

"Threaten?" The men looked at each other, "I do not remember threatening anyone."

"I know what you are doing Arthur. It will not work."

"What is your plan, My Lady? Keep her hidden at Greyshaw forever?"

Dropping her skirts, Lyanna's temper flared, "Step foot on our grounds and it will be the last time."

"And who will stop us? You?" He laughed, "A pack of women… mayhaps your witch?"

Ignoring their slight towards Elspeth, she continued, "You will never have her. Do you understand me? You can skulk in the shadows all you like. We will not be intimidated."

"Nathaniel would be disgusted with this, with you."

Pointing at both of them, her veil slipped from her head as she raised her voice, no longer caring who may overhear or be watching, "Do not tell me what Nathaniel would have wanted! He is not here now. And like it or not, Greyshaw is mine. Lilly is mine. The only way you will get to her is over my dead body."

"That can be arranged," Arthur's companion shot back, low enough so no else could hear.

Although the girls were out of earshot, a few parishioners were not, staring wildly at Lyanna. A look passed between Niklaus and Elijah who both could not help but eavesdrop.

Lowering her voice, as she was aware of their audience, Lyanna threatened, "Come for me Arthur, or Lilly and you will find hell." Plastering a fake smile on her face, she tugged the veil from her head, exposing her hair before answering for appearances, "Good day to you."

The skin of her neck had flushed pink from adrenaline. Veil in hand she did not bother sparing another glance at the men as she approached the girls, waiting for her at the carriage with the Mikaelson brothers.

"Is everything all right Lady Lockwood?" Elijah questioned, glancing back at the men.

"Yes, everything is fine. Girls," she waved at the cart where an elderly man from their stables waited for them, "It is time to go." As Lilly hopped in, Katerina assisted by Niklaus, Lyanna helped Elspeth.

"Thank you, Jon," she called to the coachman, stepping onto the foot peddle. Picking up her skirts, she went to climb in herself when a hand found her arm, "Let me assist you."

Niklaus smiled, as she stepped inside. He had meant it to be charming, gracious, courtly even, but something didn't feel right to Lyanna. Distracted, she nodded her head towards Elijah, "It was lovely to have met you." Elijah bowed in response. And to Niklaus, she didn't quite know what to say, not even knowing his first name. So instead, she shut the door, answering, "Good day."

As the carriage pulled away, Elijah said nothing, waiting for Niklaus's response. What the hell was going on?

"Seems we have a problem," his brother finally answered.

"When will Kol arrive?"

Looking through the stack of letters, Elijah answered, "Two, maybe three days."

"I should have never trusted him to bring the witch."

"He will come, Niklaus. She would only come with him."

"Could we not find another?"

"No, we both know we need Ines."

"I could have brought her myself."

"Yes, well intimidation does not always work as well as other means Niklaus."

"Kol and his witches," he snickered. The only thing more pathetic than Rebekah's obsession with love was Kol's persistent interest in witches, an entire female population that was repulsed by nature to his species.

"And Rebekah?" It had been close to three hundred years since he had last seen his sister.

"She has decided to stay," Elijah answered casually. Since Alexander and Finn, family relations had been more strained than usual these past three hundred years. Kol staying south, with Rebekah who was ardently avoiding Niklaus, not quite ever forgiving him, or maybe herself for Alexander or Finn.

Although he'd never say it, Elijah knew Niklaus well enough to know that a very small part of him was bothered by it.

"I think she's possibly a hunter," he commented breaking the silence.

"Are we talking about it now? Hannah?"

"Do not say that name. It is cursed," Niklaus answered, pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Then what shall I call her?"

"It, that is what you should call 'It'. A problem."

"A hunter? Care to elaborate?"

He had never spoken of where he'd gone or what he'd done in those near two hundred years that they spent apart. Niklaus just returned, looking healthy, recovered, as if nothing had ever happened.

"The Five, when I killed them, were spelled."

"The map."

"No, beyond the map, for protection. It was transferred to me when they died, a curse. To break it, I had to find the last hunter."

"You killed all five hunters that night in the house by the Canal."

"There was apparently one more," he answered, taking a large gulp of wine.

"Hannah…" Elijah concluded.

"I found and killed her, the hallucinations stopped."

"Really?" Elijah responded, obviously not convinced.

"The witch, the one that explained how to eliminate the spell, she mentioned that it could be passed, possibly to a child. But when I brought her Hannah's body, she had said that the original spell had died with the girl."

"And you did not believe her?"

"No, I did. But she also said that there was something else. She thought another might have been cast. But she couldn't be sure. It seems the body needed to be alive to investigate further."

"So you left it at that?"

"No, of course not. Hannah had, had offspring. I found each child, their children, their children's children and took care of the problem."

"Apparently…" Elijah mocked.

Niklaus worried about telling anyone too much information, never quite sure who to trust- namely no one. But four hundred years and Elijah had never failed him, never betrayed him. Hesitating for a moment, he finally finished, "The last girl, a woman. I tracked her to Serres. She was dying when I found her, the plague. She had a son, no other children. She… she looked just like Hannah."

"Children often do look like those before them."

"No, not like this, it was the same face, same eyes, Elijah. I thought I was hallucinating."

Looking out into the night, to the estate that lay blanketed in darkness, somewhere below the hill, Elijah answered, "If she appeared as Lady Lockwood… you were not. I thought I had seen a ghost," he paused for a moment before continuing, "Similar to Katerina."

They never spoke of Tatia. The day they buried their mother, they had put it behind them. Her name might have been mentioned, once, maybe twice over the past four hundred years, but never in calm conversation.

"The resemblance is remarkable," Niklaus responded, "But she is not the same, Elijah." And they were all the better for it. Even if it was possible to have brought her back, neither would have wished to do so, not in sober thought.

"Are you sure she is a hunter?"

"It is the best theory I have at the moment."

"Then what do you plan to do?"

"Kill her, of course." But not before Ines arrived with Kol. He'd keep this Hannah alive first, so he could get some answers.

"You cannot keep her here, locked up forever."

Plucking the purple buds from each plant, Lyanna answered, with a smile, "Can I not? I have stayed here these last twenty some years."

"Yes, well you had Nathaniel…."

"Did I?" Neither woman had spoken of it since, the things they alone knew. Elspeth shook her head, commenting, "The girl I raised knew he loved her."

"That girl knew nothing else, Elspeth."

Why they bothered to speak of things past, neither knew. It only resalted old wounds.

"Mayhaps with the new lords over the hill…. Katerina seems fond of the lighter one."

Lyanna made a face, "And the wrong one."

"You prefer one versus the other?"

"I prefer neither. However, the darker one seems less, menacing."

"You're so insidious with your words."

"Truthful you mean."

As the women stirred the petals in to the cauldron of wine, letting the acidity dissolve the plant, Lyanna cleared her throat, "Elspeth, I want you to do it. I want you to spell Lilly."

Looking into the Vat, the old woman answered, "No, you do not know what you ask Lyanna."

"I do and I wish it be done."

"You ask me reverse a blessing from God."

"This is no blessing Elspeth, it is a curse."

"The wolves have protected this land, this family, for hundreds of years. Your own Mother, Gods rest her soul knew that. She brought you here to be safe."

"She left me, Elspeth." Crying, buried in the fog that had settled over the moors in the early hours of morning, a young Elspeth had found her. Just a toddler, her cheeks red, nose running, the child reached up to the barren, never wed woman, begging not to be left.

No explanation, only a name pinned inside the wrap the little girl wore. A name, a date of birth and nothing else. Carrying her back to Greyshaw, they looked for her mother but never found her. They tracked down Lyanna's surviving family, what little there was, but none wanted the little girl, already having too many mouths to feed. Leaving Elspeth the only gift she'd ever been given, a daughter. Raised next to Nathaniel and later Lilly, they treated her as a sister. They loved her like was one of their own, Nathaniel especially.

Like Adam and Eve, sharing the same rib. At times, after he died, Elspeth wondered if she should have done things differently. Should she have left the house, when Lyanna came of age? Should she have discouraged the relationship? The pain she could have saved the little girl she loved so much.

"You did not always feel this way, Lyanna. At one time you welcomed them into your home."

"And paid dearly for it," she answered frankly, clearly thinking of things past.

"You trade one evil for another. Brewing Wolfsbane, threatening the pack…. Better the devil you know."

"They will kill her, Elspeth. If she turns, they will kill her."

"And if she doesn't?"

"They will kill her regardless. Do you see them stalking us, watching her? They want this land. They want that stone and they do not want Lilly or I standing in their way."

"And what do you plan to do if they come for her, hmm? What do you plan to do if they come for you? What will happen to Lilly with you gone or Katerina?"

"Kill them…" she replied, flatly.

"And how do you plan to do that, my love?"

"I have yet to work that out."

Ladling the wine into different colored glass bottles, she continued her work as if she hadn't just threatened to eliminate some of the most important Lords, men of the court, her neighbors.

"Heavy is the burden of the shepherd that protects the flock," Elspeth answered, fearing for them all but mostly Lyanna. It wasn't fair. She hadn't gotten herself into this mess. She hadn't asked for any of this, the lands, the girls, the name, the responsibility. She was only a naïve girl who fell in love with the only boy she knew and would be forced to pay dearly for his sins.

"And stupid is the fool who slumbers peacefully in the garden with his enemy at the gates," Lyanna replied.

As they hiked over the hill, Kol arriving only days earlier complained, "Why must we do this?"

"To be cordial," Elijah offered.

"These women are recluses," Niklaus snapped, "Egads! Could it get any hotter?"

Mid August, it was unusually warm for northern climates, reminding Niklaus of the years they'd spent in Venetian summers.

"Seems a great deal of work to do…" Kol commented.

As they entered Greyshaw lands they could see figures huddled behind the massive estate in a garden that sprawled for more than a hundred yards.

"Behave yourself," Niklaus threatened, as Kol smirked in response. One could never know what would possibly pop out of Kol's mouth at the most inappropriate times. If Niklaus could be coarse with his choice of worlds, Kol was simply crass and unapologetic about it.

"We thought we might be of some assistance," He had said it loudly enough that four heads popped up from varying places within the wild overgrowth. Each strained in the heat.

Katerina hastily attempted to straighten her appearance, moving from rows of plants, "Klaus," she called out.

Lilly and Elspeth were next, shaking dirt and mud as best as they could from their dresses. Lyanna was the last to appear, coming from way in the back, she wiped sweat from her forehead, unapologetically, blade in hand, basket weaved around her arm. Covering her eyes from the summer glare, she watched as the women excitedly greeted the two familiar brothers and another new, young man.

Wonderful, she thought. It was not even nearly noon and they still had hours of work ahead of them. The last thing they needed was a distraction.

"Good day," she called out, dropping her basket.

As the blond woman approached, Kol caught sight of what Niklaus called the Lockwood Wench and found that his brother's short description was not quite forthcoming. He'd imagined an old brittle woman. Something more like Elspeth. Lyanna was quite the opposite, natural, slight, very attractive. Katerina was just as predicted, the spitting likeness of Tatia, eerily so. And Lilly, the young girl whose name he had yet to learn, could inspire all kinds of impure thoughts from a man, living or not.

Reflecting on the group of women, Kol felt lied to, if not misled by his brothers. He'd expected an afternoon of hideous boredom. Instead he had walked into a hidden feminine oasis.

"Lady Lockwood, we could not help but remember you said you would be harvesting today. We thought that mayhaps we might be of some assistance," Niklaus added, looking at her then Katerina.

Before Lyanna could graciously decline their offer, the girls vocalized their immense appreciation, leaving Lyanna to feel like a cad if she then denied them.

"Of course, that would be much appreciated," smiling, knife in hand, sounding polite but appearing less than inviting.

Looking at the plush overgrowth, Niklaus questioned, "And what is it that you are growing and in such bulk?"

"The standard," Lyanna answered, "Lavender, Rosemary… some Wolfsbane and Vervain."

As soon as she said the words Wolfsbane and Vervain, Niklaus withdrew his hand. Clearing his throat, "Strange combination to grow this far north. If I'm not mistaken, Wolfsbane and Vervain aren't native."

It was there again, the small alarms that sounded, when he'd look at her a certain way, as if it was too familiar, like he'd known her before or forever and not just met.

"Wolfsbane is common in some areas of Northern England," snapping a blue bud from the vine, she smelled the Vervain concluding, "The Vervain is not native. I had the seeds imported and as you can see it thrives in this climate," holding the flower out to him.

Not taking it, he smiled, answering, "And what purpose do they hold?"

Even though they had a captive audience, five sets of eyes watching, it was as if they were alone, locked in an interesting little game of questions and answers, trying to feel out the other's intentions.

"Medicinal."

"I know, no medicinal purposes for either plant," Niklaus replied, suspiciously.

"Have you read every book?" It was small, but he could see a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth as she effortlessly bantered back at his every challenge.

"Hardly…."

"If you had, you would know it has medicinal purposes."

"And what would those be?"

"Ridding the body of certain influences," she smiled, politely, sharply, poignantly, cutting him off before he could say anything further, "Well, if you will excuse me, I must return to work."

As she turned, walking back into the rows of plants, Niklaus followed her figure less than impressed. There it was, the silent challenge set. The beginning of their destined game of cat and mouse, tit for tat, antagonism that neither would seem to be able to escape, easily slipping into it whenever they were around one another. He didn't know it then, or maybe he did, but the Alpha male had just met an Alpha female, setting the stage for a poetic, saga of wills.

Sweat dripped down the back of her neck as she heard laughter sounding throughout the garden. It was Lilly, obviously enjoying herself with the younger Mikaelson. As the women spread out, returning to their work, the brothers seemed to each pick a Lady of Eden, the choices obvious, Kol with Lilly. Lilly beside herself to finally have a young man's attention all to herself and Kol infatuated by both innocence, naivety and what he didn't know then, but soon would be true, the impossibility of what would become their situation.

Niklaus had followed Katerina, west into the rows of plants, as she beckoned for him to follow, with a soft smile and a not so shy glance.

And Elijah, the studious, chivalrous, righteous Elijah, wasted not a moment finding Lyanna.

"Do you not have those who usually help you?" He questioned, cutting down the Wolfsbane, careful not to touch the overlying Vervain.

"You mean the emerers or demenses?" She laughed, "You will not find them here. We have little need for such extravagance."

"But women living alone…." he offered.

"Mayhaps I should correct myself, they choose not to harvest. It runs contrary to some of their beliefs." She was vague but Elijah knew what she meant. They objected surely to the Wolfsbane.

"If you don't mind me asking My Lady, how long has it been since your Lord Husband passed?"

"No, not at all. A year, this October."

"I am sorry to hear that. Young Lady Lockwood and Katerina must be a comfort to you."

Pulling her veil from her hair, blond curls spilled out over her shoulders. "Too hot," she explained dropping the heavy fabric beside the basket.

"Yes, they are a comfort. However," she started, looking back at him before her hand slipped, cutting her finger. "Oh," blood dripped onto her dress as she continued, "I wonder at times if I have taken on more than what I bargained for."

Sucking blood from the wound, Elijah stopped her, taking her hand, examining the finger, "And what do you mean by that?"

"Two young girls, unwed and an old widow alone."

Elijah laughed, drawing a piece of cloth from his jerkin, applying it to the cut, "I hardly think of you as an old widow. If you do not think it crass, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, of course."

"How old are you Lady Lockwood?"

Blond curls slid over her forehead into her eyes, as she looked down at her finger covered by his palm, "One and twenty."

Smirking, he brought her finger to his lips, "You are but a child, young and still beautiful."

"An old maid in these lands, where girls like myself wed young and in love."

There alone, buried in the rows of plants, that burned his senses to breathe, he looked at a woman whom had yet to see all the world had to offer, who considered herself old when she was still but yet a child. His part, in Niklaus's plan was only to entertain the widow as Niklaus drew in the doppelganger, Katerina- in Elijah's mind, Tatia- into his web of fictional love, affection and ultimately to her death.

What could it hurt, that he happened to find Lyanna interesting as well? Answering her comments, he quoted:

"Amor, ch'al cor gentile ratto s'apprende
prese costui de la bella persona
che mi fu tolta; e 'l modo ancor m'offende.

Amor, che a nullo amato amar perdona,
Mi prese del costui piacer sì forte,
Che, come vedi, ancor non m'abbandona..."

("Love, which quickly arrests the gentle heart,
Seized him with my beautiful form
That was taken from me, in a manner which still grieves me.

Love, which pardons no beloved from loving,
took me so strongly with delight in him
That, as you see, it still abandons me not..." )

Dante and so beautifully quoted. Laughing, she touched his face, a friendly gesture, in response to the kiss before answering:

"Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric moved:
To rear me was the task of power divine,
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I shall endure.
All hope abandon, ye who enter here."

Reciting Dante back to him, flawlessly, Elijah was surprised to say the least. First, that she understood Italian without his translation and second that she was educated enough to read Dante and appreciate his philosophy.

"Through me you go into a city of weeping; through me you go into eternal pain; through me you go amongst the lost people," he responded.

"As one who sees in dreams and wakes to find the emotional impression of his vision still powerful while its parts fade from his mind - Just such am I, having lost nearly all the vision itself, while in my heart I feel the sweetness of it yet distill and fall," she chimed back.

In their own little world of sing song and literary repartee, they could have continued entertaining one another had they not been interrupted by Niklaus, "I've always found Dante to be peevish, boring even."

"Noioso?" (Boring?) Both Elijah and Lyanna questioned spontaneously.

"You speak Italian, Lady Lockwood?"

"Un peu." (A little.)

"Impresionante, españoles?" (Impressive, Spanish?) Niklaus questioned, less than amused.

"Da. Ein wenig Deutsch. Latinam legere. разбират български ." (Yes, a little German, read latin, understand Bulgarian).

"And the local dialect?"

"Claro."

Having found them hovering between the Vervain, Lilac and Lavender overgrowth, holding Wolfsbane in their hands, he rolled his eyes to find his brother, quoting Dante to the widow Lockwood, Hannah, Anne, his hunter and a curse itself. When she spat back some other obscure verse that only the stuffy scholars of literature would care about, he felt a burning urge to ruin the moment. He'd seen that look before from Elijah. He was enamored, impressed, teetering towards the dangerous edge of intrigued.

"And where did you learn this?" Niklaus asked, looming over her, blocking out the sun.

One moment, she was harvesting plants, the next quoting Dante with mayhaps the only intelligent man she'd spoken to in close to a year, his attentions ardent, he smile comforting, causing her to remember a time when she used to always feel that way. And then she was being bombarded with questions. From the man whose name she still didn't know.

"I'm not sure you and I have ever been properly introduced. I do not even know your given name."

"Nor I yours," he fired back.

He was bordering on the edge of glowering when she had turned on a level of social politeness that called for him to rise to the occasion.

"Lyanna."

"Niklaus, Lady Lockwood. However, those who are considered friends call me Klaus."

Without taking a moment to ponder further on that matter, she answered his previous question, "My late husband, we were educated together."

"Alongside one another?"

"Yes," she replied slightly irked.

"Why?" He questioned before considering that it may have been rude. Neither noticed, but as they continued their little exploratory confrontation, both Elijah and Katerina watched speechless.

"I would guess so that he did not have an ignorant wife. Mayhaps he wished to speak to me on matters that didn't involve birthing beds and mindless fodder," she sweetly snapped.

Intervening Elijah, stated, "You must forgive Klaus, Lady Lockwood. Where we come from in the east, not many women are educated."

"A shame," she answered, eying Niklaus.

Something about him itched away under her skin and made her want to scream. Lyanna couldn't pin point it, she'd never felt that way before. But something about this man made her instantly cautious, on the defense, ready to square for battle.

"Klaus, come," Katerina offered, diffusing the tension, as Elijah grabbed for Lyanna's hand drawing her back.

"Niklaus," she parted, refusing to call him Klaus. They weren't friends.

"Lady Lockwood," he countered, giving her a long look before he turned away. It was brief, lasting only moments like before. Niklaus would never know what it was that caused him to be so annoyed by Elijah's apparent attention, affection. Lyanna couldn't explain why the sound of Katerina's voice, laughing throughout the fields was like cold water being poured down her bare back. Neither knew it, but the beginnings of a complicated ardent affection, that teetered somewhere between desperate love and hate had begun. Even from those few short, sharp words.

As he let Katerina lead him back through the rows of plants, he listened to her mindless chatter for an hour, maybe more, while they harvested before he subtly began asking how she'd arrived at Greyshaw.

Ambiguous with details in the beginning she started to open up completely when he innocently asked her about Lyanna.

Looking both ways, as if someone would overhear, she answered, "She thinks no one knows but I overheard…."

Although her beauty may be remarkable, the memories so tangible that at times, Niklaus wished to do nothing more than to reach out and touch Katerina and cradle her close, whisper all the things he had imagined he'd once said and meant with love to Tatia. There were parts of her personality that he didn't remember the original having. He'd only spoken with her a hand full of times but Katerina seemed vapid, shallow, nothing like how he remembered Tatia. But 400 years and youth could play tricks on a man's mind, making even the most hideous of ghosts lovely in memory.

When she was sure she had his attention, she continued, "His death was not an accident." Why she told Klaus these things she didn't know. Lyanna was her closest friend, besides Lilly. She loved her. But something about him made her wish to tell even the most personal of secrets.

"He was killed…."

"Who?" Niklaus inquired, trying not to sound too interested.

"I do not know. But that is not even the most interesting part…."

At this point she had completely stopped attempting to appear as if she were doing any work.

"Yes…." He encouraged.

"I heard, that he was killed because there was an affection … a child," the irony of her speaking of such gossip when she once too had been, shamed and alone, then taken in by Lyanna.

"Yes?" he compelled.

"Some say that Lord Lockwood had a child by another woman. This woman was also married and her husband… righted the egregious crime committed against his wife."

As Niklaus considered her comments, trying to put together the pieces of conversation he'd overheard at the abbey, Katerina continued, "Lord Harte, sought to intervene and was killed. The child… no one knows. The woman came to Greyshaw demanding to see Lady Lockwood, making quite the scene after Nathaniel passed."

Quickly changing the topic, she questioned, "Tell me about yourself, Klaus."

Sparing with the details he entertained Katerina with polite conversation, taking his time to subtly weave the web he planned to trap her into. But even as he spun his little half lies, pretty fairytales, mindless compliments, all he could think of was Ines back at Harte Manor. Her request for him to bring Lyanna to her and the promise that mayhaps she could uncover the intentions of the widow Lockwood, the mystery of her appearance, so he could swiftly dispose of her.

When the men left close to evening, bidding the Ladies of Greyshaw farewell, Niklaus bent kissing Katerina's hand, watching from the corner of his eye as Elijah walked a little too closely to Lyanna. Had he not been busy eying the hunter, his brother and luring in the doppelganger, he might have caught the beginnings of the other piece of his plan that would eventually unravel: Kol and Lilly.

Like snakes, the three Mikaelson brothers had slithered into the Garden of Eden, entering Greyshaw, confident, unaffected and predatory. Looking to use and corrupt the ladies of Eve that inhabited that forbidden land. What each man would find would be nothing short of the separation of Adonis and Venus. For with their eventual sins against the love and innocence nurtured in the garden, as fitting punishment, they would forever be cast from it: banished East of Eden, into Nod, for the six hundred years that followed, never to return but always searching for a way back.