Disclaimer: Victorious belongs to Dan Schneider and Nickelodeon. Anything in this story that isn't part of the canon universe either belongs to Tsubasa K. Kruger or to someone else who will be appropriately credited in the corresponding chapter.

Note: This was supposed to be longer and include the rest of the original Chapter 6, but... the author does love to go on tangents.

Chapter 7 – Days of turmoil

May 16, 2010. Yamalia, Russia.

Everything was cold around her, almost colder than the Northern Mountains where she spent the first part of her life.

From horizon to horizon, a thick white blanket made of snow and ice covered absolutely everything, with the handful of trees in sight frozen solid, dead already if they didn't adapt like the flora of the Mountains.

Rivot sat up, feeling quite dizzy, and clutched at her head with numb fingers as she tried to make sense of things.

So she'd been punished for a crime she didn't understand – but if Lucifer said so then she must have been guilty of something, perhaps a law so rarely broken she'd forgotten it even existed. She didn't know the extent of her sentence, but seeing as this air felt disgustingly Earthly (something that the Tartarus aura clinging to every Demon had prevented every time she'd been here) then she was probably banished.

Part of her broke at the thought, and without her realizing her hand rose to her neck, clutching Raikai's promise as if it might keep her grounded – as if it still had any meaning now that she was a– a Zkhoerjae.

As if he wouldn't throw his away when he heard of her banishment, denying of any relation to her.

Her fingers barely had any sensation, which a quick examination blamed on cold-induced numbness, and she took a shaky breath before (with no little difficulty) forming a handseal.

Seconds later, a pulse of magic left her body and she felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the circle of less-freezing climate that rose around her.

She hadn't lost her magic.

With feeling coming back to her hands, she quickly set up a small fire and conjured a low rock to sit on, allowing herself to be warmed up.

Much better.

Rivot held her hands in front of the fire and frowned, considering her future – if she even had one, considering...

She wasn't sure where she was, other than probably very far north, and to be honest she didn't much care. Her life, as she saw it, was over the moment Lucifer expelled her from Tartarus and the bright future she once had, result of all her efforts, was gone. Over a decade of restless training, countless days and nights spent studying and training, bracing herself to become the best Assassin that Tartarus had to offer, an Assassin that her King could be satisfied with, to prove that her Master's crimes had nothing to do with who she was– all her life, thrown away.

And she didn't even know why.

For the first time since she was six years old and excluded from most circles of acquaintances she once had in Tartarus due to her Master's faults, she felt truly enraged. She felt the rush in her blood, that genetic memory inherited from generations and generations of Assassin ancestors, urging her to end a life so that hers could find some balance, some calm, some thrill.

She really, really wanted to kill someone. Preferably immortal, though she wouldn't turn her nose if the opportunity came to destroy a Human or ten.

She'd spent her life suppressing that urge so as to be the perfect Demon under Lucifer's command, but– now she didn't have a reason to not let go.

Now, she wasn't bound to His will, so she could do whatever she wanted, up to and including massacring cities if she so wanted to, without Him punishing her. He couldn't punish her anymore, now that He'd expelled her.

Shaking her head, Rivot sighed in discomfort and fingered the comforting material of Raikai's promise as she looked around, trying to decide where she should go now. She'd rather a big, crowded city, somewhere she could relax her inhibitions and do whatever she wanted without raising too many eyebrows at an unexplainable spree of what Humans considered crime.

She was fairly certain that if she set her path southwards then she would inevitably stumble upon some form of Human civilization at some point, but she wasn't really looking forward to an undefinably long trek through the middle of nowhere.

Knowing that her best bet was to use her magic to scan her surroundings for life, she quickly went through the seals and murmured a spell– and she tensed, because she was feeling an extremely small source of magic far to her back, just outside the range she could normally feel without trying too much, and it was moving in her direction.

Then she relaxed, because that was the only source of life and surely she could handle such a weak Fallen Demon.

As the Fallen came closer she could sense more details about their aura – an Assassin, definitely, strong enough to belong to a low-rank even though it was really old, stale, as if the owner hadn't allowed their magic to breathe in decades. Someone from a noble bloodline, then.

It also felt familiar, almost comforting, and she frowned as she pinpointed similarities both to her aura and to Lord Mias' own. The newcomer probably had some close relation to them, she concluded.

She stood up and turned around when she could begin to hear footsteps, her expression never faltering as she found the male figure moving slowly in her direction, covered head to toe in the ridiculous implements used by Humans to keep warm when out in the snow.

Disgraceful.

The man started to move faster when he realized she was looking at him, and lost his scarf and snow goggles when he entered the circle she'd spelled to be warmer.

He smiled.

"Hello" he greeted.

She studied him, too confused to feel truly wary. The man was probably in his forties, naturally tan skin with dark brown eyes (an illusion, obviously) and a hint of dark brown hair peeking under his hat. His facial features were familiar (she saw some of them in the mirror, others in Lord Mias, and others in several members of the el Svairnz bloodline), and his general body shape was almost like a younger, slightly broader Lord Mias.

The worst thing was– she didn't know him, not really, but there was something about him that screamed familiar, that she knew him, that she could trust him with her life if needed.

(The latter was perhaps the most disturbing sensation, as the only one she truly trusted was her promised, and that had taken knowing him almost her entire life and having a level of intimacy neither of them shared with anyone else.)

"Who are you?" she asked, not having to pretend she was feeling suspicious – if anything, she was concealing how much.

"I'm David Vega– well, that's the Human name I took when I was expelled. I don't really remember my birth name anymore."

She studied him cautiously. "You betrayed Lucifer on your first assignment."

"I did."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came for you. I've been waiting fifteen years to meet you – or, actually, since before you were born. What name were you given?"

She frowned at him. "I'm Rivot von Gieri, and how exactly do you know my age?"

He smiled broadly. "Because I'm your father, Rivot. I, and the rest of our family, are very excited to know that you are finally here, with us."

"I'm unused to those terms. Father and family, I mean" she admitted grudgingly.

She felt... unpleasantly lost, something she hadn't felt since her Master betrayed Lucifer, and she hated the feeling for all the bad childhood memories it brought up – which weren't few.

David blinked slowly. "You... don't use those words back there?"

"Why would we? Blood ties, which is what I'm understanding those are, aren't anything relevant among Assassins, not beyond the status that can be gained through one's ancestry. Blood ties don't stop anyone from turning their backs on each other easily, so why should they actually matter?"

He stared, seemingly at an absolute loss for words, and it took him a long moment to reply.

"Look, Rivot, we aren't temporary. In Tartarus, Assassins won't hesitate to turn against each other because they do whatever they need in order to be better in Lucifer's eyes, right? But we aren't under his will anymore – not even you, even if that can be hard to understand right now.

"You're finally free, now, too. Can't you see that? You don't have to follow his orders anymore. We're here to help you get through this, to help you start as normal a life as possible in this world. We're related by blood, not by power, and we're free."

Rivot blinked and frowned. This was... a little too much to take in all of a sudden, not that she'd admit it, but it made an odd sort of sense. And she wasn't easy to fool, so this man was either completely sincere or a masterful liar.

"Who are you to me, then?" she asked in a low voice.

He smiled. "I think that the word you use is 'sire' – the man who provided his bloodline for you to exist."

She nodded slowly, part of her mind noting how oddly not disappointed she was to know that this man was her sire – her father, apparently, if she used human vocabulary.

"And this– this family..."

"Your mother, your sister, your uncle, your aunt and your cousin – all of us Fallen Demons. I'll explain what each of them are to us, but first... can you trust me, Rivot? Would you come back home with me?"

The young Kalaus (former Kalaus, now) opened her mouth and closed it again. "I can't be sure" she murmured, frowning. "I don't know you, so how can I know you're being sincere?"

"Because you can sense it, can't you? You can sense that I'm a Fallen, that I've been here for years, and I suppose you can probably also sense that I'm not lying. It's all in you, Rivot– you already know how to judge someone trustworthy."

She nodded slowly in confirmation, though it wasn't a question, and considered him for a minute. "You believe you're being honest, at least," she said softly, "but I'm not sure if I can really trust you. Not now. But maybe... maybe I can, someday."

He smiled at her. "I understand that you're not ready yet. But it can be built, right? Trust."

Rivot exhaled a breath as her frown relaxed, but she kept her magic in guard. One can never be too cautious, yes?

But, she thought, accepting the hand that her... father was offering to guide her home, maybe he isn't trying to fool me. Maybe this won't be as completely terrible as I thought it would be.

–o–

May 20, 2010. California, USA

The Vega Sanctuary, where Rivot's family had established their household a decade before her arrival – around the same time that her older sister, Trina, was also expelled from Tartarus.

Rivot had felt a strange, impossibly powerful rush of familiarity when she first met Trina, after teleporting herself and their father back to the United States (since it wasn't really safe for her to move out in the open just yet – not to mention that she still didn't have papers to prove her existence to the Humans and she couldn't openly move between nations without those papers), but she hadn't taken the time to try and figure out why.

No, she'd been entirely too overwhelmed, smothered by Earth's disgustingly sweet air, shaken by the realization that this was real, that she wasn't a true Demon anymore, that she'd lost everything–

The moment she stepped into the Sanctuary was too much, too painful, too soon, and she'd hung around long enough to tensely greet her mother and her sister before retreating into the bedchamber her family had prepared for her.

She was very grateful that the bedchamber was simple, austere, almost impersonal – it was a small relief to see something close to what she'd grown used to in Tartarus, but it was still enough to make her silently refuse to leave.

Rivot would admit to spending a lot of her time sleeping, her body straining to keep up with the requirements that the aura of her new surroundings was forcing out of her. The change wouldn't have been as hard for them, perhaps a few days of feeling moderately tired and uncomfortable, but for her it was positively painful.

She'd been in Tartarus long enough for its aura and its magic to form thick layers around hers, clinging to her with iron claws and barbed chains, seeping so deeply into her sense of self that it was impossible to say where her individuality ended and her connection to King Lucifer started. Her actions during her career had only enhanced this connection, as she'd always directed her magic and her purpose towards honoring her oaths and being a faithful servant and His domain's aura, already sentient after close to ten thousand years of Him being King, had stirred at her intent and gleefully sunk its hooks into her welcoming soul.

That connection had provided her with very much needed comfort during some of the most difficult periods of her life. It'd been a silent supporter whenever someone spoke against her, her most faithful companion, a warm threat, a constant judge.

Tartarus had approved of her and Raikai's promise – encouraged it, even, if the pleasantly charged air whenever they were together (something neither of them felt with anyone else) was any indication.

(Tartarus did that, sometimes, whenever a particular pairing would give birth to inordinately strong Demons. From her studies, Rivot was moderately certain that several of the Demons that rose from their bloodline's usual occupations were the result of those pairs.

It was part of the reason why Rivot and Raikai had entered their promise so young.)

Her connection to Tartarus had been her everything, and losing that, having it ripped so violently from her, had left her gasping and bleeding and barely able to function, shuddering every time the slightest breeze touched the gaping holes that'd been left behind when Tartarus was taken from her.

She desperately needed to rest, spend as little energy as possible in order to allow her body to patch itself up as much as possible.

(But she'd never be whole again – Tartarus had been a very important part of her being for fifteen years, and nothing could possibly replace that, especially after losing it so violently.)

It never crossed her mind to communicate with anyone – in Tartarus, they didn't often go out of their ways to speak to others unless there was a need to, and so it was completely natural that she'd just shut herself off in her bedchamber without saying a word, much in the same way as she'd done her whole life.

Her family had taken it in stride, coming into her bedchamber a few times a day to leave food for her – always when she was sleeping, something she was very grateful for because she didn't think she would feel anything but uncomfortable if she was forced to interact with them inside the walls that encased her refuge.

This room was decided to be hers, a place for her to retreat and be alone whenever things became too much to handle, and it was... nice to know that they were making an effort to help her get used to the idea, and respecting the fact that she needed a space that could be hers.

It was the evening of her fifth day on Earth when she decided to leave her bedchamber, taking with her the empty tray that'd held her lunch.

A few steps from the stairs, her eyes fell on a photograph hanging from the wall and she froze before slowly moving closer.

The picture showed a couple smiling broadly, sitting together on a couch, the woman heavily pregnant and the man visibly vibrating. Nothing too strange, but then the picture next to that– it showed the same couple, looking as if they'd aged a decade in a year, the woman pregnant again but barely showing and both of them looking broken... as if they knew they should feel excited but physically unable to feel anything but fear.

That was...

"It's amazing how much can change in a year" a voice spoke behind her.

It took all Rivot had in her to not whirl around at the unexpected sound, but she still looked over her shoulder at her sister, who was standing in the doorway to her own bedchamber and looking at the pictures briefly before turning her eyes to Rivot.

"What do you mean?"

Trina shrugged, a little withdrawn from the person Rivot had met days ago, and walked closer until they stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the pictures.

"This picture–" she said, pointing at the image of the excited couple "– is from when mom was pregnant with me. Neither knew the other was a Demon back then, so it was a big surprise when a Demon kidnapped mom from the hospital while she was giving birth and returned her immediately after I'd been born. Then, when they learnt she was pregnant with you, they already knew what was going to happen. They already knew that you were going to be born in Hell, and that you wouldn't come back to them unless you chose to turn your back on that path."

She was gently tapping the glass of the second picture at that point, making Rivot frown. That... explained how she'd been born in Tartarus despite the fact that both her progenitors were Fallen Demons, something that the Grandparents at the orphanage couldn't and her books never bothered to explain.

"It was hard for them" Trina continued after a moment of silence, oblivious to Rivot's hands tightening their hold on the tray. "They haven't said it, but they were close to divorcing after they lost me, and I think things were strained up until I came back. It's in their pictures – they don't look as close those years."

"Divorcing?"

"Separating, splitting up, breaking their marriage."

"Marriage?"

"Couple acknowledged by the authorities and society in general. Man and woman, generally – same-sex marriages aren't allowed everywhere."

"It's possible to break that bond?"

"Some countries allow it, like here, but others don't. It depends, really – but even when it's not allowed, couples can separate in fact if not in paper. How do things work down there?"

Rivot frowned. "Two Demons of similar status promise to bond together and procreate. The promise has to be held for at least two years before they bond, and while the promise can be broken off within the first year the bond can't be broken even with the death of either party. Having a child with someone you're not bonded with is a mark of shame, and betraying your bonded by having a child with someone else can see you become a pariah."

"A bit like here, then, but probably not as bad."

"Aren't people monogamous here?"

"Well, yes."

"Then it's not all that similar."

Trina blinked slowly at her, seeming surprised. Rivot had to look away, starting to feel uncomfortable at the attention and what she could swear was something like realization dawning on her eyes.

She didn't realize when one of her hands left the tray to touch Raikai's promise, but Trina did.

"What's that?"

Rivot dropped her hand. "Nothing."

"Hey, come on, you can tell me. You don't have to, of course," she quickly added, "but if you ever want to talk... I'm here for you, okay?"

Rivot looked back at Trina, evaluating her for a long moment, until she finally whirled back to the stairs.

"Some other day, maybe" she muttered as she left.

She pretended to ignore the look that appeared on her sister's face and moved downstairs, followed by Trina after a few moments.

Their mother was lounging on the couch, gaze set intently on the strange apparatus that most households on Earth seemed to have, but she took her eyes away to smile at them as Rivot took the tray to the kitchen.

Before Rivot could feel too uncomfortable (she'd seen that expression several times, but never on Demons and never directed at her), the door opened and her father came into the house, carrying a folder with him.

Greetings were exchanged (mumbled and distant in Rivot's case, of course), and then her father walked to the kitchen and set the folder on the table.

"Are those...?"

"Yeah, we only need the name and we can turn these in" he nodded at her mother's question. "So, Rivot? I was thinking that maybe you'd like to have a say in your new name?"

A small part of Rivot that she hadn't realized had tensed up when she first saw Trina today relaxed when she noticed they weren't going to make a big issue of her being out of her bedchamber. Still, she frowned at the bowl in her hands, because did it really matter?

"I don't care" she said aloud, turning her back at the rest of the room to drop the things on the sink. "It's just a name."

"You're going to have to use it for the rest of your life" Trina insisted, bouncing up at her. "Well, you could change it eventually, I guess, but why bother if you have the chance to choose now?"

"I'm not familiar with how do Earthlings name their young."

Trina seemed to realize that this (Rivot feeling lost and disoriented, and hating the feeling, and growing tense and progressively snappish) was going to become a trend if someone didn't mediate, offer solutions, constantly help her understand. Rivot was too proud to accept the fact that she needed help, and she wouldn't admit to it under pain of death, but she was glad that someone was willing to step up and fill that role without making a big deal about it.

"Well, how about you just use the name they would've given you if they'd kept you? That's what I did" she said brightly.

Rivot kept her eyes on the empty glass for a moment. Finally, she shrugged, not really seeing anything wrong with that but too stubborn to admit that a Fallen Demon could have a good idea.

(She would have to change that, now that she... now that she was one of them.)

"I suppose. What name would that be?"

She felt her parents startle at that, though she didn't acknowledge it. She didn't even turn around when her mother spoke.

"Well, we– never really settled on a name– not when we knew that–"

"That Tartarus would claim me as one of its own."

"... Exactly. But... we did discuss what we'd like to name you, if we could keep you with us."

"And that was?"

"Victoria."

Rivot frowned and rolled the word around her mind for a moment, comparing it to her vast knowledge of the Ancient language in order to understand its meaning – supposing that this was indeed a name with some meaning.

From the Human dialect known as Spanish, part of the Latin languages, spoken originally in part of the Iberian peninsula with the majority of current speakers being inhabitants of the Americas. The word, which translates to English as "victory", expresses the act of defeating an opponent in any form of competition, making it the Human equivalent of the Ancient word "edrivoth", from which the name "Rivot" is derived.

She slowly rose an eyebrow, surprised despite herself at what could only be a coincidence – so her progenitors had wanted to give her basically the same name she'd been given in Tartarus? That was the kind of occurrence that rarely happened more than once a millennia.

But... if one ignored the vastly different languages, taking that name would be as if she was still using the one she currently had, the name she'd grown so used to it almost pained her to let go of it. It was small, but a grounding point for her nonetheless, and she couldn't bring herself to reject that comfort.

So she accepted, and just like that, the next day she was officially Victoria Vega.

–o–

May 26, 2010. California, USA.

Andre Harris grinned when he turned the corner of Beck Oliver's street and saw his friends already waiting for him up front, chatting lightly and teasing each other mercilessly – probably poking fun at Beck for his crush on the other three's Guarded.

Three years ago, he never would've imagined that he'd get along with a Demon, certainly not enough to go to his house, but here he was now. It helped that Beck had been living on Earth for a decade now and that he'd never hurt anyone, true, but still, willingly going to a Sanctuary was... something else.

He knew his family worried, sometimes, that he was friends with a Fallen Demon, but... he really didn't see an issue.

(Whenever his family "subtly" expressed their worries, he bullshitted his way out by claiming that he only hung around Beck because his Guarded, Jade, was friends with him. Which was true at first, but not anymore.)

Not that he could realistically think of Beck Oliver, of all people, as a threat – not when he was as calm and polite as a stereotypical Canadian.

"Hey, guys!" he called when he was within earshot.

His friends answered with varying degrees of excitement, and Andre didn't miss the way that Beck was more subdued than usual.

"So, you said you had something important to tell us?" he said lightly as he slowed to a stop.

Beck sighed. "Yeah. Come on, let's talk inside."

He guided them into the Sanctuary in silence, closing the door behind them slowly once Robbie had wandered inside. Still he stayed by the entrance, twisting his hands together in a show of nerves they hadn't seen of him before – not even when they opened their Hollywood Arts letters to know whether they'd been accepted or not.

"What's up, Beck?" Andre asked.

Their friend sighed and sat on the edge of the free couch.

"I... I know I never really talk about stuff, but I actually have family other than my parents. Dad has a sister, you know, and she's married to another of our kind. They live here in LA too, actually."

Cat frowned, seemingly trying to figure out who he was talking about, but Andre felt like he already knew the answer. Before he could reach it, however, Robbie spoke up.

"You're related to the Vegas?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, that's kinda weird, but why are you telling us about them now?"

"That's because... well, my cousin, Trina, is already a student at HA, so, you know, we'll go to school with her. Also... look, we don't want any trouble. None of us do. But... a little over a week ago, my younger cousin was kicked out of Hell."

"Alright, so there's a new Fallen around, but I don't see why there'd be trouble" Andre pointed out.

Beck's knuckles became white, so hard he was fisting his hands atop his knees. "That's... because she's fifteen. As far as we can tell, she... she was an Assassin."

Andre tensed, noticing how the other Guardians did as well.

"What do you want us to do, Beck?" Cat asked in a soft voice that did wonders to hide her tension.

"Just... please don't start a fight with her. Whatever she's done, she was just following orders."

"She's an Assassin!"

"WAS!" the young Fallen barked back, jumping to his feet to glare down at the trio of Guardians. "She WAS an Assassin! She didn't know any better – she didn't really have a choice!"

The trio eyed him warily, suddenly reminded that their friend was a Demon, even if he hadn't lived as one for almost nine years.

It was easy to forget that Beck was actually a Fallen Demon, that he had lived in Hell for the first part of his life – but he was glaring at them now, as if the sole force of his stare and his scowl would strike them down, sneering with a disdain they had never seen on their normally calm friend.

It definitely wasn't a look they felt comfortable seeing on him.

Robbie attempted to calm him down. "Beck..."

"Shut up" he snarled, his eyes flashing red briefly – the first time they'd ever seen his actual eyes. "It's so easy for you perfect Angels to judge us, because you don't know shit about us, about the way Tartarus runs– because you don't know the things we're threatened with if we step one inch out of line! We can be tortured for not following orders!"

"Beck! We didn't–"

"Of course you didn't know, and that's the fucking problem here! You didn't want to know, because that would mean acknowledging that your perfect Father lies to you!"

"Don't you dare talk about the Father like that!"

"I'll talk however I like about that–!"

"Beck. That's enough."

Everyone whirled around to look in the direction of the new voice, quickly finding its source standing quietly just next to the kitchen door.

The Guardians were surprised at how– normal she looked. The newcomer, Beck's cousin most likely, was a teenage girl of average height, athletic build and Latin features, with matching tanned skin and chocolate-brown eyes. Her clothes were simple yet functional (jean shorts, plain black t-shirt and bare feet) and her hair was cut short and tinted black and silver.

She seemed incredibly bored – understandable, since they were in a Sanctuary and she knew she was safe there, regardless of the three Guardians staring tensely at her.

"Tori."

She nodded at him and looked back at his friends, a slight sneer pulling at her lips. "Is this why you and mother insisted I come here today?"

"They aren't here to hurt you" Beck quickly spoke up, moving to stand between her and the Guardians. "They're– they're my friends, and I don't want any problems between you."

She scoffed. "They wouldn't manage to hurt me if they tried."

"Tori–"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cat jumped in, looking appropriately affronted. Andre didn't blame her – he was also feeling insulted.

The girl slowly raised an eyebrow. "Exactly what I said. You couldn't stop me when I tried to kill your Guarded, so what's to say you would manage to touch me when I wasn't threatening your jobs?"

Beck paled. "Wait, that was your last mission? But... if they didn't stop you, then how..."

She gave everyone in the room a single unimpressed stare. "Because King Lucifer ordered the Enforcers to pull me from the mission before I could complete it. Hadn't He done that, West would be dead."

Tori shrugged. "Regardless, it doesn't interest me to attack anyone, now that I'm not bound by my oaths. So long as they don't attack first, there is no reason for me to harm them."

Andre's jaw tightened at the obvious slights to their skills and felt his power bubble underneath his skin, but he slammed a tight lid on his emotions before they could manipulate his power and cause an incident.

Trying to use immortal power inside a Sanctuary was heavily punished, even if by accident, and Andre knew that Heaven wouldn't be lenient with a nameless Guardian like him if he broke the Law.

Before he could decide he didn't give a damn about the potential consequences, Tori shrugged again and moved to the stairs.

"Well, if that's all, I'll be in your room until mother comes for me. It wasn't nice to meet you, Valentine, Shapiro, Harris.

"Oh, and Beck? If this is the kind of people you spend your free time with... I'm not impressed."

With that, she moved swiftly to the upper floor, a door clicking open and closed just moments later as she left the quiet quartet in the living room. It took almost eight minutes until someone spoke again.

"And you want us to get along with her?" Andre asked, his voice strained.

Beck winced. "Yeah... maybe I didn't think that one through."

Funnily enough, it wasn't until the rewriting process that the author realised that the characters were fifteen at the time they first met and therefore, to the author's understanding, not old enough to drive yet.

Also: Raikai van Groumn wasn't inserted with more protagonism here than in the original for no reason. Some important emotional growth in Tori involves her previous relationship to him.