Who's ready for a little Klaus Angst™? Nik managed to take up a whole chapter by himself and it's slightly longer than usual. What an absolute diva. I would die for him.

-12-

Niklaus

Despite what his family thought, Klaus didn't want to be at odds with his soul bond, especially not this early in their relationship. He needed Isolde to trust him, or at very least to understand him well enough that she didn't come to hate him.

Truth was, Klaus didn't want Isolde to walk away. To abandon him and the bond before they could even get started.

It wasn't just because Isolde was strong and quite powerful, like Klaus knew his siblings believed to be his goal. Klaus knew how it looked each time he asked for clarification or reacted to Isolde's might. He'd certainly been the architect of his siblings' opinions of him, but it stung nonetheless that they thought him so broken he couldn't see Isolde as more than a mere means to empowering his own empire.

In the past couple of days he'd seen much that made him sit up and take notice of her. She was quick witted, her humor blended well with his and Kol's, which was beneficial to their family dynamic. It meant she could potentially diffuse a heated argument with a few words.

...Or ignite one in a similar fashion, but she didn't seem much like an instigator. A good balance to Klaus, considering he was the instigator in most situations.

She'd shown compassion for his family, too. Not only by stopping Esther from destroying them all but also after Finn had revealed truths about their allegedly dead elder sister. Isolde had offered her own family's aid without hesitation. Well, she didn't actually offer; she told them she was helping but that was irrelevant.

Klaus couldn't recall a time when anyone who wasn't a Mikaelson had helped them without provocation.

On a more personal note, Klaus couldn't forget the haunted, appreciative look in Isolde's eyes when she complimented his artwork the night of the ball. Recalling that over the last few days had been enough to spread a nervous, jittery sort of flutter (much like what he'd felt when he started to fancy Caroline- only about five times stronger) through his chest that he kept forcing down.

And the way Isolde had comforted him when she'd revealed Esther's plot had invaded his thoughts since the night of the ball, too. When he closed his eyes, alone in his rooms, he could imagine the way her hand felt as she caressed his arm. It had been like a coolness evaporating the burning wildfire of rage that surged within him. He'd caught himself immortalizing that specific moment in his sketchbook several times since then, only to tear it out and burn it in fear of Kol discovering his newest obsession and tormenting him.

Even had none of that been enough to see Isolde as more than a pawn; She'd come to him first with the threat to his family. Of all the Mikaelsons, of the soul bonds she'd already made with Kol and Finn before meeting him.

Isolde had come to Klaus first.

To Klaus, who had always been a last resort for anyone but Elijah, the fact that she chose him first bloody well meant something.

And in return last night Isolde had gotten away with something Klaus would've put his own siblings in a box for even attempting.

Isolde had destroyed the silver daggers, had the last of the white oak wood burned, and ruined the last of the white oak ash right in front of him. Then, when he'd lost control of his temper, she pinned him to a wall and told him off like he was a misbehaving child.

He'd murdered entire bloodlines for far less.

(A part of Klaus had to admit that being manhandled and taken to task by his strong, confident, and utterly ravishing soulmate held a certain appeal he was interested in exploring. Clearly the universe indeed knew what it was doing, bonding Isolde to him of all people.)

What had bothered him about that whole ordeal was that Elijah had gone behind his back without telling him about the secondary white oak tree. Admittedly, Klaus should have been paying attention to the markings on the cave wall behind his mother's coffin.

He'd been distracted.

Isolde was becoming quite the distraction, of late. Oddly, Klaus just couldn't bring himself to mind that as much as he should. She'd handled two of his family's issues with alarming efficiency now, and it had only been three days. And the way she handled those issues was unpredictable, like those struggles were nothing to her.

That was actually the biggest reason why he was apprehensive about the bond. Her strength scared him. Isolde and her brother were unpredictable, uncontrollable, and wildly powerful in ways Klaus' family knew nothing of.

With that kind of power came larger, stronger enemies.

Klaus was barely holding his own against his enemies. How would he fair protecting Isolde from hers? The idea of failing her, the light of her eyes fading over with death, caused such a strong wave of panic already, when he barely knew her, that he was worried how it would feel once they became more intimate.

Part of his reasoning for being so set against loving anyone was because of the fragility of everyone outside of his family. And returning the affections of any Mikaelson was a death sentence. He had trouble dealing with the emotions that rose when someone he only somewhat liked abandoned him.

Klaus knew he couldn't bear the loss of someone he'd allowed himself to love.

But Theon had said that his family was truly immortal. Klaus wasn't certain how far he was willing to trust Rebekah's mate on this, not yet.

Because if true immortality was possible in the Alexander's case then Isolde was quite literally the perfect mate for him, and with that came a lot more emotions that Klaus didn't know how to deal with.

Nevertheless, true immortality broke all of the natural laws of balance. Klaus was unsure if Theon was just trying to mask his vulnerabilities, worried that Klaus might exploit them (he would) or if he was actually speaking true.

Klaus recalled the conversation he'd had before that disastrous descent into the tunnels. Isolde had said that her and her family were given immortality from the most powerful gods of Egyptian lore. That they were only to be killed if the gods' blessing was revoked. But she didn't expect them to, because they were the gods' legacy.

That information made Klaus wonder.

Between Isolde's confessions, and Theon's ability to manipulate the mind and his brute strength paired with the younger Alexander's admissions the other night about Isolde, Klaus had spent most of that night researching.

He knew the significance of the Alexander's birth names. A quick google search told them what he'd suspected already; their names were all associated with Egyptian deities.

Horus, the god of war. Amunet, the hidden one. Thoth, the god of wisdom. And Ma'at, the goddess of justice.

Esther had said that Emeric had the commanding presence of a King and a politician; that the man had once been known as Alexander the Great. Klaus figured it wouldn't be much of a stretch to assume Emeric, or Horus, had been involved in nearly all recorded wars in the history of mankind over the past five thousand years. Let alone been a King in one way or another for the majority of his existence.

Thoth, or Theon, was the god of the moon, of reckoning, of learning, and of writing. He was held to be the creator of languages, the scribe, interpreter, adviser of the gods, and an engineer. His lore gave away nothing of what Theon's abilities might be so Klaus hadn't been able to truly speculate without needling more information out of the siblings.

But he did know that it was Theon who'd kept the humans preoccupied the night of the ball.

Klaus knew that for a fact because when he closed his eyes he could still feel his skin being peeled off him over and over again. That vivid illusion of being flayed alive had pervaded Klaus' mind and had been one of the most terrifying experiences he'd gone through and it hadn't even actually happened.

When he'd gotten up and found himself intact, limbs thrown over broken trees where he'd impacted them and a massive hole in his living room wall, he'd taken a moment to compose himself before confronting Theon again, almost forgoing another altercation entirely.

Klaus had never been more intimidated by another man than he had been by Theon in those moments after being tossed through a wall and into the forest, discarded like a rag doll.

And Ma'at was more than just a goddess to the ancient Egyptians, Klaus had read. She represented the crucial concept of how the universe was maintained. The ancient Egyptians believed the universe had an order to it, and it was Ma'at who kept everything in balance. This helped the ancient Egyptians develop a strong sense of morality and justice. Klaus hadn't had a chance to interact much with Vera, but the way she'd stood up to Esther the night of the ball gave him an indication that she might be quite like the lore suggested.

Shadow manipulation. Remaining hidden and unseen to gather intel? Amun, or Amunet was a more of an obscure deity, god of the air and King of gods. According to lore, Amun was a god who personified the mysterious hidden nature of existence and could lend themself to any aspect of that existence. Later, they became Amun-Ra establishing an all-encompassing deity (visible with the sun and invisible with the moon, creating balance) whose aspects were literally every faucet of creation.

Klaus wanted to know how much of all this could actually be true and applicable to his mate and her family. He knew well how easy it was to manipulate a legend to the creator's own gain. He'd done it several times himself, the sun and moon curse being one of his most famous works.

Answers would be forthcoming at the dinner Isolde had arranged for them that evening, Klaus reminded himself. Still, he was tired of being the only one in his family that hadn't gotten any alone time with Isolde since they'd first met.

Klaus was never one to let things lay, even knowing Isolde was less than thrilled with him. He did want to apologize for the tunnels. Were it anyone else he would've gladly tormented them with such a weakness but knowing that he'd caused that kind of psychological torment to his own mate had inflated his sense of self loathing.

He knew she was upset with him, yet Isolde hadn't even brought it up.

Sure, she'd pinned him to a wall and told him she understood why he'd daggered his siblings. She told him he couldn't do it again, and he agreed. He hadn't wanted to do it again, but he knew that had they been an option eventually he would dagger his siblings.

That was what found him staring into the sliding doors of his mate's home, watching her as she sat at her kitchen table, pen in hand hovering over a notebook with a steaming mug of coffee off to the side and a laptop playing soft classical music.

The sight caused another one of those little flutters in his chest he was trying to ignore.

The sliding door was open, just the screen in his way with the gentle fall breeze blowing the curtains. Isolde had either noticed him and decided to ignore him or she simply wasn't as vigilant as he'd given her credit for.

"You know," he spoke, causing her to jolt which made his grin grow wider, "it seems you've spent quite a bit of your time with all of my family in the past two days and I've been left rotting in a corner. I don't like being left out, sweetheart. Makes me cranky."

Isolde hummed with a smirk aimed at him, recovering quickly and pretending to be unperturbed by his sudden appearance. She set her pen down on the notebook and turned to face him. "Well you're welcome to come in and keep me company this morning, so long as running errands with me isn't too plebeian for you."

It took Klaus a second to recover. He thought it would take far more than a snide comment to get Isolde to agree that they needed some time alone to get to know one another. He also hadn't expected to be invited in so quickly, momentarily stricken he opened the screen and stepped through.

There was a moment of awkwardness when the two of them just stared at each other, the tension thickening until Klaus had had enough. He swung into the chair opposite Isolde.

"What are you working on?"

"Lyrics, I'm getting ready to send it off to a record label." She sighed and Klaus watched the happy little smile that danced across her face despite the way the rest of her body language suggested she was annoyed as she glanced down at the notebook before her. "Third stanza is giving me some trouble."

"You write music?" He questioned, adjusting in his chair to be more comfortable.

"Poetry," she looked up at him with a sad smile, "but as time passes and the world marches ever forward people have taken to musical expression rather than sitting in a candle lit room reading old sonnets. I adapted. Don't get me wrong, I still love it, it's just..."

"... there was something romantic about reading poetry before that's now become another casualty of modernity." Klaus finished, understanding exactly.

"Precisely."

"What lines are giving you trouble?"

She slid the laptop out of the way and pushed the notebook towards him, leaning over the table and bracing her arms against it, pointing at a line.

"Third stanza, second and third lines. I just don't see it meshing well. I don't write the instrumentals, I leave that to the musicians who buy my work, but I do dabble because I like to see how the musicians' interpretation differs from mine and I just don't think those two lines work."

Klaus looked it over, surprised by the haunting sting of the poetry itself and hummed, scratching his face with his free hand. "Have you tried playing your interpretation?"

"Not yet," she shook her head as he handed the notebook back, "think I should?"

He grinned at her, standing. "You've got a piano in the other room, let's make use of it."

"I'm surprised you noticed it. It's hidden from the back door." Isolde laughed, the sound of her chair sliding back indicated she was following him.

"I might have stood at your front door a while before migrating to the back," he grinned back at her, opening her piano for her.

She laughed again, smiling at him while she slid onto the piano bench, turning to pat the open spot next to her. After a brief second of hesitation, not sure she actually wanted him there or if she was being polite, Klaus took a seat beside her.

"Okay, this might be a little choppy. First time playing what's in my head and all."

"No worries, love. I'll only judge you a lot."

She pushed her shoulder into his lightly with a smile, positioning her hands. He watched as they started to dance across the ivory keys. As expected, the music matched what he'd thought the lyrics should sound like. A few seconds in, Isolde began to sing.

Captivated, he dragged his eyes from the piano keys to her face.

Klaus had expected her to sing. What he hadn't expected were these lyrics and that music combined with a voice so evocatively mournful it ached. Klaus felt his chest squeeze and that annoying, scratchy pang was building in his throat again.

The way the song mirrored his own sadness, his anxieties, he felt a wash of sensation. Like screaming into the void only to have the words that had been branded deep into his soul echoed right back at him by someone who held out a hand in compassionate understanding, daring him to take it.

Klaus couldn't help but feel every word as if the song was written for him. He hadn't realized the effect it was having on him until it ended and Isolde's hands stilled on the keyes. He looked away from her face just as she looked up at him.

"So what's the verdict?"

He tried to reign in his feelings, struggling to maintain his composure. When he spoke his voice was softer than he'd wanted it to be. "I think you've been too hard on yourself. The song is phenomenal." He swallowed and looked back at her face, which was watching him closely with eyes he knew saw too much. "You should produce it yourself, forgo selling your lyrics altogether. I imagine you'd make more royalties."

She hummed, standing and closing the piano. She motioned for him to follow her. "You're right, and I'd like to. But one of the most important supernatural laws is the 'no exposure law' and under that is an amendment that states we can't be famous unless we follow strict guidelines and I don't have time for the hassle that would create for me. Younger immortals with far less responsibility than I? Sure. Me? No."

She started up the stairs and he followed her, enjoying the spectacular view of her arse in her tiny white shorts. "I suppose the existence of a 'supernatural law' falls under the category of things we'll be discussing tonight?"

"Yep." She popped the 'p', opening a door at the end of the hallway. "You can sit over there." She gestured to a chair in the corner of what he assumed was her bedroom, if the rumpled bed in the middle was any indication. He liked discovering that Isolde didn't bother to make her bed in the morning. She disappeared through a door at the back of the room. "Speaking of tonight; I've got to go into town and pick some things up from the grocery store. Are you coming with me?"

Klaus lowered himself into the chair, doing his best to ignore the sound of Isolde's clothes sliding off her body just feet away.

The idea of his mate, who he'd wronged terribly just over a day ago, trusting him enough to be naked and vulnerable with him in the room stirred his primal protective instinct and his wolf began to whine and pace, pawing at him to do something about her state of undress instead of sitting in the corner.

The wolf (and Klaus) hated the idea that she'd go into town, into the store where there could be brutish men, alone. It growled at Klaus and the man found himself responding.

"I suppose it won't kill me." He sighed, glancing curiously at the floor where a cat lowered itself to the ground and jumped, landing on his lap and arranging itself so it could sit. With an annoyed huff, he stroked the cat's fur while it started rumbling like an engine.

"Great." Isolde said, and it sounded like she really was happy he'd decided to come along. He could hear the rustle of clothes again. "I've got this nice ravioli recipe, does that sound okay?"

The cat brushed it's head against Klaus' stomach, begging for more attention when he briefly stopped petting it. He rolled his eyes, exasperated with both cat and woman. "You are aware that we don't actually have to eat?"

"Well yeah." She said, her tone sarcastic as she reappeared fully dressed and then disappeared through another door, this time he was parallel to Isolde and could see her staring into a mirror. She plucked a brush from the counter, wincing as the bristles snagged on a knot. "Eating isn't the actual point. The reason for dinner in this instance is for there to be something the hands and mouth can do to distract the mind from hyper fixating on the topic. This is especially imperative for the more emotionally volatile species'."

"Vampires, Werewolves, Hybrids." He recited, tossing a glare at her as she walked back out into her room with her hair clipped to the back of her head.

"Berserkers fall into that category, too. Along with young Incubi who haven't gotten control over their pheromones." She said, settling herself on the end of the bed a few feet from him, putting on a pair of boots. Isolde glanced at the cat in his lap and back at his face with a soft expression that made his stomach swoop. "I think that's the first time I've ever seen her take to someone so quickly, she hates new people."

"Animals like me." Klaus smiled, filing that bit about berserkers and incubi away for later, stroking the purring cat once more before carefully removing her from his lap and putting her back on the floor. Isolde leaned toward a bedside table and then held a lint roller out to him. "Far more than people ever did."

Isolde snorted softly while Klaus brushed the fur off his clothes. "Relatable."

"People don't like you, love? I find that hard to believe." He raised a brow at her.

She shrugged, taking the roller back from him and tossing it on the bed. "They think I'm inflexible, conceited, confrontational, needy, and tactless."

Klaus couldn't hold back his laugh and she threw a pillow at his face.

Up next: Two immortals walk into a grocery store…

One of you lovely commenters made me look into Kai Parker and now I can't stop thinking about finding a way to incorporate him into FSO because I love fictional sociopaths. They just need someone to care about them amirite? All those in favor, comment 'Aye!' I won't do it if y'all are against it.

* A lot of Klaus' introspection about the Alexander's and the Egyptian lore came from world history dot org and Encyclopedia Britannica.

** The song Klaus and Isolde work on is one of my current favorites and I think it really fits Klaus. It's called 'Would Anyone Care' by Citizen Soldier and it's phenomenal. 11/10 would recommend.