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IT WILL COME BACK / 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊
TRIGGER WARNING ✸ for violence &gore (aka, fork found in foxgioves tvdu-fic kitchen)
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Klaus Mikaelson had been asked before, a lifetime ago, whether he'd ever wondered if there was something else out there.
He'd joked if they meant aliens a hundred years before the word had been on people's minds, but then he'd remembered he was in 16th century Spain and, there, they'd only really focused on the bigger things. The more home-oriented existentialism that had been drag for an atheist at courtly dinner parties––
Bigger than them? Yes.
Specifically–– Bigger than him.
To that, he'd smiled.
Him, the destroyer of worlds and plunderer of spirit. He, the name that had sunk into the vein of Europe even before the He, the beginning to all sorry tales and the ending of the bloodiest; playing out like the kind of dizzy waltz that began and ended all the same. Bigger than that.
He'd pretended to consider it for a second, turned the concept over and over like a worn coin in the palm of his hand–– and he did the exact same five hundred years later, in a warehouse on a nowhere street in Portland, Oregon.
In Toledo, he'd just shrugged and drained his blood-soaked wine, but now, he was willing to give an answer.
The person asked it almost defiantly, eyes welling with tears as they stared at him hanging over him. Their hands had been clutched in silent prayer and he'd felt the impulse to scoff at the prayer beads between their fingers.
Did they not hear themselves? They were blood-soaked and pale, eyes shot and mouth dry–– and they were using their last final words to question him about a higher power?
"You must've seen it..." Their chapped lips chipped out as his eyebrows lifted. Like a dog, his head tilted. "A thousand years... You've seen it––"
