Your Coveted Always & Forever

                      “THOSE CENTURIES WERE probably the most peaceful between us,” Kol replied, his tone willfully ignoring the barb that Finn had tended to throw into any conversation. –- Not that he could blame him: it was hard not to talk about daggers after losing centuries to them. The one thing the brothers had in common –– losing time to their siblings’ choices –– was one thing which they refused to bond over. Kol, despite being far calmer, more settled… HAPPIER than he had been in a thousand years, still felt like he was slipping into irascible, bad habits with his brother’s gaze on him. He tensed his jaw, wanting to snap at yet another brother who assumed yet another thing about him. “I’m not the brother who steals power from ghosts,” he replied, jaw ticking. “That’d be your beloved sister. ––” He paused, reminding himself WHY he’d even called Finn, and it wasn’t to have a fight. It wasn’t to have a fight. “Davina and I managed to snap the spell,” he said. “It took three celestial events collapsing in on each other and a diamond the size of your fist, but we figured it out. I’m human. I’m happy. I called because I thought it was worth it to… be sure you were settled.” There it was. The olive branch was the only one he was willing to offer, and he doubted his brother would be able to accept it without some comment or other either insulting Kol’s choices, his past, or the fact that he was too busy trying to not get a dagger put into himself to get it out of Finn. He wondered, not for the first time, why he’d been talked into thinking this was a good idea, but he persisted, hoping it’d give one of them some sort of closure. Which brother, he wasn’t sure, but… closure. Peace. Whatever.

Finn’s temper flared though the only outward indication of that was a brief twitch to the corner of one side of his lips.  Peaceful for his siblings perhaps, but not for Finn who’d begun to grow conscious of his prison.  But he was more at peace now.  As was his brother it seemed.  “Pity.  That is something that I would have helped with.”  If he could have.  Kol was right though.  He wasn’t the one to ask for help from his siblings, though it was a nice change that he’d accepted the help from Davina, although, Finn supposed he hadn’t really had another choice but to trust some witch and who better than Davina.  “You’re not human.  You’re a witch.”  Finn corrected, but his eyes had softened, if only slightly.  “Which suits you better.”  He didn’t bother asking if Kol had seen to it the Rebekah was freed as well.  Finn imagined that Kol hadn’t put the idea to her, or that, if he had, Niklaus had run a dagger through her heart to keep her from taking advantage.  “Your little witch has quite the skill.  And here I thought her power would be tied up in New Orleans.  Or did you find a means around that as well?”

( @abdicatingbrother ) « starter

                    THIS WAS NOT his idea. This was the furthest from being HIS idea. And yet Kol continued to prepare the spell, reveling at the power in his veins. –– His HUMAN veins. It had taken a few years, but he and Davina had found a way to snap the original immortality spell Esther had placed upon her fifth-born son, and Kol, a Mikaelson witch once again, had been implored by his wife –– who could, frankly, convince him to do much of anything –– to reach out at least ONCE to his eldest brother. And so, he was setting up a séance despite preparing himself for the verbal abuse which was most often directed toward him when Finn deigned to speak to him. The last candle lit, Kol began to murmur the words of summoning, feeling the power surge in him, bringing forth the image of his brother. “Finn,” he greeted, standing next to the summoning circe. “Long time, Brother.”

One moment, Finn had been enjoying the afternoon with Sage, some drink or another that she wished for him to try, and then the next, he wasn’t there any more.  He ought to have known that it was too good to be true, endless days and nights with Sage, hearing about the world that she’d lived in without him.  Now he was back here, resurrected for the second time in who knew how many years. “Where was this longing for my company when I sat in a box, Kol?”  Finn asked, the time with Sage having done wonders to ease away the hostile bite in his tone.  “Or has it been a thousand years already?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Matthias replied uncertainly. “I’d really rather not think about her coming back from the dead.” He would rather not think about what she would do to him when she came back. The very idea of Dahlia coming back left him shaken; he could even feel his hands trembling as they spoke. “Can you blame, me, Uncle Finn? For hoping that Dahlia would stay dead?” 

Finn’s eyebrows flexed as if to shrug at the boy’s reply.  Though he may have wished that Finn would lie, Finn left that duty to Freya, the boy’s mother.  “It is because I don’t blame you that I won’t lie to you.”  Finn answered.  Dahlia was dead and how Finn wished that it was by his own hand.  Still, given this family’s propensity for rising from the dead, Finn may yet get his chance.  “You can hope for her to stay dead all you like, and then be caught off guard when she returns.”

His shifting moods, his hostility, reminded her of Nik when she’d first cemented herself back into their lives. Finn may love her, but he didn’t trust her. “Muninn,” she tried the nickname to soften him. “Don’t be like this, please?” The past dramas of their family were anything but simple and he knew that, no decision could be solely one sided. As he railed on about her placing him back in the pendant, Freya had to remind herself to stay calm; she had to be the steady one, just like when they were children. “I did that to protect you, Nik was ready to let you bleed out and your soul slip into the void.” A wise decision as it turned out, the body he’d then inhabited, now someone Freya considered a friend. “I’m not our mother, if you want to act like a petulant child that’s your choice; I have things to do today.” She’d offered to take Hope with her when she went to pick up groceries and a few witch supplies. “I’ve spelled my room if you need sanctuary, the others won’t be able to enter it without my permission.” Unless he wanted to come with her and their niece, which was where Freya had been headed when he’d cornered her. Turning, she began heading up the wrought iron stairs toward the nursery.

The nickname was a clear attempt at manipulation and Finn would have none of it.  How self-righteous of her.  She couldn’t even acknowledge the least bit of fault.  No, no.  It was all about what she’d done to protect him  How she was trying to build a bridge for between Finn and his younger siblings.  She wished to play the elder sister now, but she’d been absent for longer than even Finn had.  Elijah hadn’t even been born yet when she’d been taken.  And now she offered to send him to her room in the same breath that she declared herself to not be their mother.  But oh how it seemed she wished to be.  The mother to boss her children about and force them to bond with one another.  “Enjoy your family, Freya.”  Finn said with a sneer.  If she wished to try and play matriarch, then that was her right, though she was far less effective than Rebekah would have been.  Either way, Finn had no inclination to stand spectator to it.  If Freya was content to chose the others, well then he would allow her to do so.  Finn, however, would go his own way.  Perhaps he would go back to New York, he’d rather liked it there when he’d been during that brief moment of life once he’d been released from his box.  With that in mind, he turned from Freya and headed toward the door.

                      A SMALL SCOWL marred otherwise-schooled features. “Always with the constant lack of faith,” Kol remarked. “I haven’t been ostentatious with my feeding since we’ve been here; in fact, I haven’t KILLED since we’ve been here.” He’d convinced a benign but mad surgeon in the village to give him the blood that he normally gathered and threw out. It tasted metallic and terrible, but it had done the trick. Kol, unbothered with the morality of his hunger, had taken to this method only because it had seemed more prudent. If he was forced ( and… more and more, he had thought about what it would be like to leave instead of stay ) to be here, he knew he had to at least try for prudence. “What? Did you see a dropped body and assume it was me by default?”

“Haven’t you?”  Finn said, not in the least bit comforted by the notion.  If it wasn’t Kol, then there was some other beast.  “Well, I suppose that’s a bit of a comfort.  But tell me, which of our siblings have drawn such suspicion as you?  They whisper about you throughout the castle.”

( @abdicatingbrother ) « starter

                    THIS WAS NOT his idea. This was the furthest from being HIS idea. And yet Kol continued to prepare the spell, reveling at the power in his veins. –– His HUMAN veins. It had taken a few years, but he and Davina had found a way to snap the original immortality spell Esther had placed upon her fifth-born son, and Kol, a Mikaelson witch once again, had been implored by his wife –– who could, frankly, convince him to do much of anything –– to reach out at least ONCE to his eldest brother. And so, he was setting up a séance despite preparing himself for the verbal abuse which was most often directed toward him when Finn deigned to speak to him. The last candle lit, Kol began to murmur the words of summoning, feeling the power surge in him, bringing forth the image of his brother. “Finn,” he greeted, standing next to the summoning circle. “Long time, Brother.”

One moment, Finn had been enjoying a blissful afternoon with Sage, and the next, he was standing in a circle looking at Kol.  He supposed that this was his younger brother’s revenge of sorts.  “Well, considering we once went centuries without speaking...”  Finn trailed off, alluding to the fact that he’d spent centuries in a box without a single thought paid by his siblings; he’d judged by Kol’s clothing that not much time had gone by since he’d bid earthly life good bye.  “What?  Do you need my power for some spell or another?  Have at it, so long as you send me back.”

                      THERE WAS SOMETHING incensing about how glibly Finn dismissed Kol’s question, but in truth, Kol was not surprised by the matter. His brother had spent the better part of Kol’s memory dismissing, disengaging, or disapproving of his second-youngest brother, and Kol would have felt more foolish than he considered himself if he would have expected the threat of IMMORTALITY to change well-earned habits. “Myself as a babe and myself right now have little in common, then,” he replied. “I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire, Finn.”

Whether his brother intended it or not, the words brought a laugh to his lips, a hollow, brusque sound.  “I’ll thank you for that.”  Though he knew his brother would likely hate that that was his response.  “I’d also thank you to be more careful with your kills.  Niklaus and the others seem to wish to stay here.”  No doubt because of Nilaus; infatuation with their hosts daughter and Rebekah’s love for being catered to and cared for by a hoard of servants.  

That was the exact opposite of comforting, especially coming from Finn, the one person besides his mother who really knew about Dahlia and what she was capable of. “Thanks for that,” he said quietly. 

It was clear that his words had been less than comforting to the boy.  “Would you prefer I lied to you?”  Finn asked, raising a brow.  Unfortunately, in this family the only enemies who stayed dead were the ones who were not related to them by blood.  Dahlia would no doubt return.  Perhaps not anytime in the foreseeable future, but be it now or centuries from now, Finn expected her return.  Soemone would raise her as Davina had raised Mikael, thinking to sway a powerful ally to their side against Niklaus.  It was a fool’s errand though, killing Niklaus.  Though Finn would never admit it out loud, his brother was a survivor and had yet to be bested by a foe.