Mikael was just the way Freya remembered him from her childhood. He smelled of blood and a storm to come. His messy blonde hair falling over his face, and his bright dark-blue eyes staring at her, always alert and loving. She could see him so clearly: young, tired and happy, holding little Finn in his arms and singing for him to sleep. He was still the father she remembered; leaning on the kitchen counter, drinking whiskey. If she quieted the loud worried thoughts, the fear caging her in the present and the pain forcing her to remember the past, her years with Dahlia; maybe then Freya could pretend her dream was real, and all the rest, a lie. She could run to Mikael, hug him, knowing her family was safe and happy. The Mikael she remembered would never hurt his children.

The smell of alcohol, more than the modern kitchen, broke the spell, dragging Freya back to reality. Mikael never drank when she was a child. He also looked older than she remembered. He even looked older than the last time she saw him alive; which was impossible. Of course, he was a vampire, he couldn't age. Still, death had aged him somehow, and she would rather not think about what that could mean. Now, his eyes staring into the nothingness of his empty cup, Mikael looked just as tired as when he was young, and hunting all day to feed his family. But back then, he was happy. Being a father was all he ever wanted, all he ever dreamed; a sweet and forbidden dream he never thought he could achieve… Mikael never told Freya why he thought he couldn't be a father… Still, she could tell, even as a child, Mikael had hope at least.

Now he looked hopeless. His happiness an impossible dream, drowned in a misery Freya could not understand. His relived smiled didn't fool her. Mikael had a terrible secret eating away his soul, and he was determined to keep it from his children.

"You have nothing to fear from me," Mikael said slowly, watching her hesitate before entering the kitchen.

"I know." Freya forced a smile. It was the truth. He never scared her. But, even without knowing Mikael's secret, it frightened her. Anything that had such power over Mikael ought to be feared. "But my siblings are… wary… of you," she went on, matter-of-factually. "They doubt your intentions for helping us."

"I can't, and I don't, blame them for that…it's only natural, I suppose." He sighed, forcing an awkward smile. "I take no offense."

"If you could…explain… Your motives, intentions… Then, maybe, they would–."

"It won't make any difference," Mikael cut her off. "It's too late for explanations, motives and such things," he scoffed bitterly, lighting a cigarette. "They would never believe what I say. I can't fault them. I wouldn't believe me either, if I were in their place… And anyway, I'm not here to be believed, or forgiven. That's not why I've come here."

"But…" Freya mumbled, her mind racing to find an argument that could, maybe, convince him to tell her the truth. But the distant look in his eyes as he refilled his cup told her arguing and pleading would be useless. Mikael was ready to die on his stupid hill.

"Alright," she sighed, resigned. "You are here, for a reason…yet you refuse to tell me, is that it?" Freya held his gaze, not even hiding the annoyance in her voice.

Mikael shrugged, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, my dear girl. I just cannot give you the answers you seek. Not yet… It's not safe… Not yet."

"Can you at least tell me how you came back?" She asked, exasperated, leaning against the wall n defeat.

"Yes… I suppose that's the least I can do…" Mikael sighed, shaking his head. "But, I'm almost certain it will only create more questions I cannot answer now…"

"I'll take it." Freya said quickly, smiling. "I just–we just want to make sense of this madness…"

"Very well," he cleared his throat. "My arm-ring. Do you remember it? Made of gold, the snake eating its own tail? You used to play with it… Well, ever since I was a boy, I had it. My-my mother and father made it for me. Every child receives one when they come of age, to symbolize adulthood. But mine… It was always different. Filled with an ancient, powerful magic…" he swallowed, fidgeting with his arm-ring. "I can't even remember all the times this little thing saved me from certain death…I'd be at the gates of Valhalla and this damned thing would pull me back… It always worked, and it never stopped doing its job."

Freya frowned. "But you were dead for more than a year. How could it bring you back after such a long time, and unaided?"

Mikael shrunk into himself, embarrassed. "I could have come back at any moment of the last year… Well, more or less. It's–it's awfully complicated. I don't want you to think I could have just popped back at any minute… That's not quite it…But, well, I was in a…in between place. There was a door that led here, to the land of the living. I just had a harder time finding it this time around…"

"You–you've died and came back before–without help?"

"It's easier with a helping witch, of course. But not always best…." He shrugged, drinking.

"What about the others? The people you brought back? Finn and Henrik, and the others…How… How could you even…?"

"It's the same principle, I suppose. It just took more magic…"

"Since when can you even–you aren't a witch, are you?"

"No, no… nothing of the sort. I don't have magic or use it. Not in the ways you, Esther and Kol… well, it's just a different way to go about it, I suppose."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's like-like fighting… I know how to do it, without thinking about it… To be frank, I wouldn't even call what I've done magic at all. I don't think I can do magic. Whatever I can do is simply… well, it's not as complex or difficult…"

"Are–are you telling me that bring at least five people back from the dead and later healing five more from deadly poisons and curses isn't–isn't that hard?" Freya said, staring at him perplexed. "How were you able to do all those things?"

Mikael shrugged. "I've always been able to heal others. Since I was a boy; it was one of the few things that always made me proud... I've always healed astonishingly quick, too. Esther used my blood for the spell that created vampires. Like everything else, those 'powers' were enhanced. "

"Have you ever... healed or resurrected anyone before? As a vampire, I mean…"

"I never tried to do what I've done tonight, and I don't think I could ever do it again... I truly wish to never have to do it again. But I suppose that will depend on what type of trouble you and your siblings get into next..." He shook his head, sighing. "I don't think I would have been able to conjure enough power, magic or whatnot, if it weren't for you... to save you, and keep you children safe... I'm afraid to think about it even... But for now, I'm only glad I had enough life and energy inside me to keep you children safe at last..."

"You... came back for us?" Freya mumbled slowly, tears running down her face, her hands shaking. "All of us, I mean... even-even Nik?"

Mikael swallowed, nodding slowly. "I'm here to make sure you survive this... this thing hunting you. These prophecies..." he shook his head, his expression dark. "Never mind that. I am back for you... because..." Mikael hesitated, then smiled. "Well, someone needs to tell you, my dear girl, to follow your heart. Your siblings will stand beside you, no matter what. Time and love will heal all wounds, even the deepest ones. But you need to take care of yourself too. Don't let your heart go to waste just because you are afraid of using it. You have a new world to explore, my girl. I'm sure you and your siblings will be happy from now on... I'll make sure of it."

Freya smiled back, unsure. She wanted to hug her father, but could not find the courage to do it. There were so many things she couldn't understand, so many mysteries and secrets. If only she had more time, and some place quiet. Yes, that's all she really needed, some time to think...

Still smiling, the eldest Mikaelson daughter excused herself from the kitchen. She glanced at her siblings' confused expression on her way to the bedroom without stopping. They had heard every word Mikael said, and if Freya could not understand him, then she pitied her siblings. But there was not much else she could do.

Crying softly into her pillow, Freya shivered. Her mind racing and spinning with the new information, desperately trying to make sense of it all.

"This thing... hunting you. These prophecies..." Mikael's words filled her with a terrible dread. An awful enemy was approaching, and the Mikaelson was powerless to stop it. What would this monster take from them next? And why did Freya feel like it was so familiar... What did the Hollow take from them?