A.N.: I told you it'd be Metanoia; then I changed my mind! For this particular story, the definition of sophrosyne fits just a tiny bit better!
So this particular story in the Giulia Salvatore saga is likely going to be a lot shorter than all the others. I didn't want Resurgam to go on for too long; by the end of Sophrosyne, Giulia will be headed to/have reached New Orleans.
Sophrosyne
01
After
Sophrosyne- Greek - n. - a healthy state of mind, characterised by self-control, moderation and a deep awareness of one's true self, and resulting in true happiness.
"…That's quite enough of that…"
It took a few seconds for everyone to register what had just happened, as the scent of Ástríðr's blood overpowered the lingering aroma of charred flesh and smoke.
In the strange silvered dawn, the shadows seemed too dark, while the most obscure details glowed with an intensity that was unnerving: Klaus' amber-black eyes; Ástríðr's twitching fingers; the veins flickering beneath Rebekah's darkened eyes, glistening with tears of shock; the velvety softness of Gyda's skin as the dawn light caressed it; Lagertha's glinting golden-blonde hair; the hollows beneath Kol's cheekbones; Isak's sapphire-blue eyes, glowing with pure, white-hot loathing as he shoved his hands through his hair; and Elijah, gazing in pure anguish at his mother's headless corpse.
Elijah raised his gaze to Klaus, whose lupine smile was mocking, vicious, and in that moment, Giulia recognised that Always and Forever was dead.
All emotion seemed stripped from Elijah: He looked at Klaus…as if he saw nothing.
No emotion; no recognition.
And Klaus realised it.
For a heartbeat, his contemptuous smirk faltered.
He realised he had made the most devastating mistake of his unending existence.
Then Isak attacked, and for the first time, Giulia saw the full ferocity of Isak, a Viking killed in his prime, a fearsome witch who wielded sword and spear and shield beside his brothers long before his family had migrated to this land, a man long before Klaus had been born to punish them all.
Sobbing and screaming, Rebekah hit the ground heavily as she threw herself beside Ástríðr's lifeless body, and Giulia grimaced with compassion and something else - grim despair, mingled with a heavy sense of acceptance - as Rebekah reached for her mother's head, Ástríðr's long blonde hair soaked with blood. Trying to reattach it to her body.
Elijah intervened in the vicious fight between Isak and Klaus only once: To shove them both away from Kol, Finn, Lagertha and Gyda, who were disoriented and, Giulia remembered, experiencing utterly new sensations overwhelming their bodies. They were altered.Giulia went to Kol, first, sinking down onto the brittle, charred earth, and gazed intensely into his face, searching for some physical sign of his transformation.
For the briefest, most selfish moment of his existence, Kol gazed into Giulia's eyes, and smiled. Light shone from his eyes, his face radiant with joy. And it faltered only because the sound of howls and snarling echoed on the brittle dawn air, and the scent of Rebekah's tears hit their noses like a tidal-wave as she muttered frantically to herself that, "She'll heal. She'll heal from this. Ástríðr's not stupid - she would have used a protection spell! How long will it take? Elijah?! Elijah, how long will it take for Mother to return?"
Staring down at his sister, Elijah's face was bleak, leached of all emotion, carved from granite - exquisite and lifeless: Slowly, as if every movement was agonising, he turned away from Rebekah. Giulia helped Kol off the ground, and her lips parted: His skin was hot to touch. Elijah noticed, the moment he offered his hand to Finn to help him to his feet; Lagertha stood, her expression awed as she sighed, and her breath plumed in front of her in the cold air. Gyda was sat up: she had her hands over her ears, her fingers shaking, her breaths ragged. Elijah squatted before her, reaching out to tenderly clasp her hands in his, resting his forehead against hers after tenderly kissing her hair. His lips parted, realising what Giulia had: That Gyda's skin was hot to touch, from the blood rushing through her veins for the first time in a thousand years, that her heart was thumping so loudly in her ears she thought she was drowning, that the crackle of air in her lungs was an exquisite pain that turned into pleasure as they expanded, filling her body with oxygen pumped through her blood…
As a marrow-melting howling scream shot through the frigid air like a bullet, she caught Elijah's eye. Rebekah remained on the ground, holding her mother's head to her neck in the hopes she would start to heal; Elijah's shoulders dropped, but his face was resolute as he removed his coat to drape around Gyda. Goosebumps had started to appear on her flesh.
With a single look, Elijah and Giulia communicated their next move: To remove Kol, Finn, Lagertha and Gyda from the danger. They were newly regenerated as something entirely unique; and as much as Giulia had discussed her own nature with them, it was one thing to hear and quite another to experience the transformation. The Originals were accustomed to their heightened senses and a lethal appetite for blood: What they weren't used to was…well, bodily-functions, to put it bluntly. To need food, not blood; and to have a metabolism that burned through everything with annoying swiftness; to hear their own blood rushing through their veins as their lungs expanded, the deep resonant thump of their hearts beating inside their chests. Overwhelmed.
And yet, well, it was the Originals. They had endured a thousand years of appalling, unimaginable moments like this that had redefined them over and over again.
They were accustomed to adjusting to harrowing situations.
This was the first they had willingly submitted to.
And they were regaining their bearings, in spite of what they were putting their bodies through. Lagertha realised it first: Giulia felt her body tense, and heard a long sigh of acceptance and grief as she watched Rebekah, tears splashing down her face over Ástríðr's dismembered body. Finn glanced only briefly at Rebekah and Ástríðr's body: He turned instead to stare grimly at Elijah, who pointedly avoided eye-contact, carefully sliding his car-keys from his pocket. Gyda's lip trembled, watching Rebekah; she glanced from her aunt to Elijah, her lips parting, eyes glittering. Tears shimmered down her cheeks as she let out a shuddering breath.
Giulia glanced over her shoulder, only once, to double-check where Isak and Klaus were: Elijah's earlier shove had given them momentum, and they were now safely out of range - far beyond Rebekah, who remained on her knees, her arms splashed with her mother's blood as she sniffled and sobbed and held Ástríðr's head in place. Waiting.
Quietly as they could, so as not to draw Klaus' attention from Isak, Giulia and Elijah guided the others back to their cars, out of the protection of Ástríðr's concealment spells.
They slipped away, leaving Isak and Klaus. Leaving Rebekah. Removing her now would do nothing to help her accept that Ástríðr was dead - that no amount of magic and protection spells could save her from beheading.
That's why Klaus did it.
He went for the head.
There was no recovering from that, not even with Ástríðr's immense knowledge of protective magic.
Quietly, they slipped into the two cars, and Giulia glanced in the mirrors, in the predawn, gauging the proximity of the two warring monsters. Her heart thundered in her ears, but her hands were steady as she turned the key in the ignition, and heard the soft click of seatbelts being buckled. Odd. Her lips twitched, a flicker of irony cutting through the grim shock weighing on her.
They should have known. Should have realised… It was always a concern, of course…but to have their greatest dread realised, so brutally…for Klaus to have smirked and preened and lorded it over them seconds after the death-blow…
She followed Elijah, who drove with Gyda. Lagertha, naked in her passenger-seat, sighed heavily, resting her elbows on her knees as she dropped her face in her hands - one of the ultimate signs of defeat. Finn and Kol looked startled, and bereft.
They all knew what the implications of Ástríðr's death were.
Isak, Elijah and Rebekah remained unchanged.
The possibility of them recreating Ástríðr's spell…was slim. Not impossible - just improbable.
But Klaus had played his hand: They knew what he would try to do, if they could ever attempt to put Elijah, Rebekah and Isak through the transformation.
Scrubbing a hand over her face, Giulia acknowledged how tired she was. The weight of exhaustion and grief settled over her like a blanket as they pulled up in front of The OH, and her lips parted, recognising two naked, bloody figures - one of them limping severely, fury radiating from his enormous body, and as she engaged the handbrake and climbed out of the car, she glanced at Elijah, whose eyes were tracking Willem.
"Where is he?" Willem growled, the closest Giulia had ever seen Willem to losing his temper. He was bloody and severely injured, even more enormous than usual because of the tension simmering from him, the pain and anger radiating from him - his body was glistening with sweat and steaming in the predawn light, as if one wrong word would ignite him. Beside him, a tired-looking Holly tilted her head to one side, her gaze curious as she lifted her nose toward Gyda and Finn, Lagertha and Kol, who was already wandering off to the parterres now barren of growth - it was February, after all; only a few evergreens lent their colour to the brittle landscape.
Giulia watched Kol kneel, and sink trembling fingertips into the earth.
The exquisite rapture that transformed his face was…transcendent.
With a soft sob, Kol laughed.
Holly gazed at them, perplexed, her nose telling her that something had fundamentally altered within the very nature of her Original hosts.
The soft laugh, the smile lighting up Kol's face, was so at odds with the situation - but why shouldn't Kol embrace his newfound nature? His newly re-established connection?
This was what it had all been for. Why they had risked it. Why Ástríðr had returned. To give her children this chance.
"Klaus has killed Mother."
Elijah's voice was so calm. So detached, unfeeling. Giulia watched him carefully; Gyda caught her eye, her expression more sombre than Giulia had ever seen her. They shared a look, sharing understanding. Elijah was his most dangerous when he was calm, mild-mannered and beguilingly gentle and rational, when he spoke barely above a whisper, and his eyes glinted with irony, and a tiny smile hid his emotions. Everything about him was carefully crafted to lull. For his prey to underestimate him. To conceal the monster held at bay by his immaculately tailored suits.
Elijah was eerily immaculate: his brother Willem was near-feral and deeply grounded.
Willem stared at Elijah unblinkingly, and consciously let out his breath in a long sigh, and Giulia watched the tension and rage ease from his enormous, coiled muscles, no longer bristling but shaking out his hands as if shedding water-droplets, and his body seemed to get smaller. Rage had made him enormous, hulking, brutal and aggressive: Shock at Ástríðr's execution snapped him out of his fury, and it was like watching him deflate. The feral planes of his face softened, and shock and acceptance radiated from him, soft and calm. Beside him, Holly relaxed, and Giulia felt her own emotions gentling as she watched Willem coax himself away from reacting from a place of violence.
"And the others?" Willem asked quietly, never questioning Elijah.
"Isak attacked; Rebekah awaits Mother's return," Elijah said softly, in that silky whisper that both concealed but also indicated his wrath.
For a moment, Willem did nothing. His burnished skin steaming, his eyes returning to their pure, brilliant sapphire blue, his body healed itself, and calm determination radiated from him.
"Then there is nothing more I will do here," he said grimly, flitting his gaze briefly to Giulia. They all knew what he meant: He had made certain they understood that he would not devote his time to someone who did not desire his help. After Klaus' actions tonight, the decision he had made to execute Ástríðr…Klaus had no desire to change. Willem was not the other siblings: he was not beholden to Klaus, or frightened of his temper. He could not be bullied, manipulated or guilted into thinking he owed anyone anything.
Willem had established his boundaries early on. He would not accept Klaus' behaviour: He would not tolerate it in his life.
There was a lot the others could learn from Willem.
But his self-respect and healthy emotional state meant he would not remain in a toxic situation where people refused to even acknowledge let alone adjust their behaviour: He would not stay close to his siblings, even to help them, when Klaus still had such a hold over them. It wasn't healthy for him.
Giulia had always respected his profound emotional intelligence, his generous nature tempered by his self-respect. It was one of the most attractive things about Willem, since the moment she first met him.
His maturity was a breath of fresh air, especially when immersed in the Originals' dysfunction.
Willem turned toward the house, Holly trailing behind, gazing over her shoulder curiously. Giulia heard her murmur, "They smell different…"
"It worked," Willem muttered grimly, disappearing into the warmly-lit foyer.
It had worked, but at great cost.
Lagertha and Finn glanced at their older brother and slipped silently into to the house. Kol was blissfully and consciously ignorant of the brittle atmosphere as he immersed himself in one of the parterres, and Gyda averted her eyes from her father, doing a stutter-step before traipsing uncertainly after her aunt and uncle. Finn held back, and offered his giant paw to her, clasping her hand gently, reassuringly, as they entered the house.
Elijah stood still as a marble statue, perfect and untouchable, cold. And yet Giulia was drawn to him, devastated by the façade, wary of the meltdown none of them would see coming.
In spite of his outward appearance of civility and seemingly limitless patience, the danger with Elijah was his unpredictability. Soft-spoken and charismatic, kind and generous, he was a wordsmith and never reneged on any deal he had struck.
It was always difficult to gauge his reactions.
Because he was nothing like Klaus, where Giulia could predict his every reaction, decades into the future. Klaus was predictable; a creature of habit.
Elijah was the one who lingered in the background, the true power behind the thrown - he was the one everyone underestimated.
He was utterly delicious because of it; he was utterly entrancing to Giulia, who adored nothing more than a puzzle. And Elijah was an ever-changing puzzle, his mind exquisitely complicated, his motivations and personal moral code immaculately honed over a millennium. He was unlike any other creature in the world.
There were many ways in which he could respond to Ástríðr's murder at Klaus' hands.
Giulia ran through them in her head, turning them over, exploring the far-reaching consequences of each, discarding some, mulling over others, refining them when she gazed at Elijah's stony face… Only his eyes remained alive, glittering in the predawn light.
Slowly, cautiously, she approached him, only the sound of brittle dead leaves crunching beneath her feet, the scent of frost against her fine Italian leather boots drifting up to her nose with every step, the caress of the dreary winter sun against her skin subtle and tentative as a first kiss.
For a moment, or perhaps an eternity, Elijah gazed out over the woods, and Giulia gazed at him.
His voice broke, when he finally said, "He has taken my child from me."
His lip trembled; Giulia approached, reaching out to rub his arm comfortingly. "She's still here," she whispered, devastated to see his lip trembling, the hard glaze to his eyes as he held back tears. "Don't waste it. Don't waste this time you have, playing into his game."
Tears dripped down his cheeks as he moaned, "She's going to die."
Giulia swallowed, and nodded. "One day. But first, she'll live," she said hoarsely. "And you're lucky that you'll get to witness it, be part of it."
"I - I was afraid to go through the transformation," Elijah stammered. He turned to gaze into Giulia's eyes, broken and beseeching. "Now I dread enduring without it… I am afraid for her, and there is nothing - nothing I can do…"
She reached up, to cradle his face in her hands; using her thumbs, she tenderly wiped the tears from under his eyes. He gave a miserable, tired little sigh, gazing at her. Something in her presence, in her touch, gentled him - grounded him - as nothing else could, tethered him to the present, instead of spinning out into the trauma of the unknowable future.
Giulia smiled, and it was heartbroken. "That agony you feel…you're remembering how it feels to be a parent. It is a transcendent anguish."
Elijah rested his cheek against her palm, sighing softly; he gentled, as she stroked his cheek, the tang of his tears mingling with the crisp frost and brittle sunlight. He gently pressed his hand over hers, turned his face to nuzzle her palm and place a tender kiss against her skin.
She knew Elijah well enough to see his resolve in his entire body. The set to his shoulders eased a fraction; he fiddled nonchalantly with his ring; he bit his bottom-lip; the muscle in his jaw ticked, and then he seemed to nod to himself.
Giulia watched him shed a thousand years of loyalty and dysfunction.
Elijah gave a shuddering breath, and his entire face seemed to brighten from within.
The weight he had been carrying was gone.
A.N.: This took three days to write?! Absurd. Anyway, thank you for bearing with me. The well of inspiration had dried up; I start work next week (after six months) so that's when there'll be a tidal-wave and no time to write! Because that's how it seems to work.