Force of Gravity • NM

•31•

Naira stirred slowly, her eyelids fluttering open to the dim glow of her room. For a moment, disorientation set in as she registered her surroundings. She was in her bedroom. The repetitive dream that had held her captive for what felt like an eternity was gone, but its echoes lingered—hauntingly played in her mind.

She blinked a few times, trying to shake off the images. Questions bombarded her thoughts: Was everyone okay? Had her spell worked? Was Henrik truly going to be born as Rebekah's child? How would Rebekah react when she found out? The weight of it all felt immense, and she realized how parched and hungry she was.

With a sigh, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and tiptoed to the door. The house was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came deep in the night. Wrapping a blanket around herself, she headed down to the kitchen, her bare feet padding softly against the cool floor.

The kitchen was just as she needed—warm. She began rummaging through the cupboards, her stomach growling softly as she searched for anything edible. As she leaned up to grab a box of crackers, a voice broke the silence.

"First thing you do after waking up from a magical coma? Raid the kitchen. Classic Naira."

She froze, her hand still on the cupboard handle, before turning to see Damon leaning casually against the doorframe, his trademark smirk firmly in place.

"Damon," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Before she could say more, Stefan appeared behind him, his face lighting up when he saw her.

"She's awake," Stefan said, his voice softer than usual, but full of relief.

In an instant, both brothers crossed the room, enveloping her in a tight hug. Naira felt her throat tighten as tears stung her eyes.

"You scared us, kiddo," Damon murmured, his voice uncharacteristically tender.

"Food first, lecture later," she mumbled into his chest, earning a laugh from Stefan.

"See? Food really is her first love," Stefan teased, ruffling her hair.

Damon pulled back, his usual sarcasm returning. "Don't think you're off the hook, though. What the hell were you thinking pulling a stunt like that? And you—" He shot Stefan a look. "You're supposed to be the responsible one."

"I told her it wasn't a good idea!" Stefan defended, holding up his hands.

"Uh-huh," Damon said, clearly unconvinced.

Naira's stomach growled loudly, cutting through the moment. All three of them paused before bursting into laughter.

"Alright, let's get you real food before we dive into the interrogation," Damon said, grabbing his car keys.

The ride to Mystic Grill was a quiet but comforting one. Naira sat in the backseat, her head leaning against the window as the cool night air rushed past. Stefan drove while Damon fiddled with the radio, finally settling on a classic rock station.

"So," Damon said, turning to look at her through the rearview mirror, "other than dreaming about food, what else was going on in that magic coma of yours?"

Naira hesitated, her brow furrowing. "It wasn't just dreams. There was this... man. He looked exactly like Stefan."

Stefan's hands tightened on the wheel. "Exactly like me?"

She nodded. "Yeah, same face, but older. He kept asking me to free him. And then there was a girl, around my age. She had these piercing eyes, and her presence was...powerful but not scary."

"Sounds like a party," Damon quipped, but there was a hint of tension in his voice.

"She called herself Inadu," Naira continued. "She said the way to peace is by following your heart, but never explained it, whatever that means."

Both brothers fell silent, their expressions shadowed in the dim light of the car.

By the time they reached Mystic Grill, the place was nearly empty, save for a few late-night diners. They slid into a booth, with Naira sandwiched between her brothers. Damon flagged down a server and ordered her pasta and juice, despite her protests.

"I just woke up from a coma; I can order my own food!" she argued.

Damon smirked. "Exactly. Your judgment is clearly impaired."

As the food arrived, Naira dug in, the warm, comforting flavors grounding her. Stefan and Damon began filling her in on the week she had missed: Bonnie's spell to confirm Rebekah's pregnancy, the Mikaelsons' mixed reactions, and the quiet but lingering tension in the house.

"So, Rebekah's really pregnant?" Naira asked, her eyes wide.

"Yup," Stefan confirmed. "And she's handling it better than I thought she would."

Damon leaned back, sipping his bourbon. "Honestly, I think the idea of being an mom has softened Rebekah a bit, calmed her inner serial killer. Never thought I'd see the day."

Naira smiled faintly, but her thoughts drifted back to her dream.

"What about that guy who looked like Stefan?" she asked.

Damon shrugged. "Could just be a random dream. Or..."

"Or what?"

Stefan hesitated. "Or it could mean something. We don't know the full extent of your magic yet, Naira. It's possible you're seeing visions of something—or someone—important."

Naira sighed, pushing her plate away. "Great. More mysteries."

Damon reached over and ruffled her hair. "Relax, kid. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. For now, just focus on getting better and not pulling any more crazy stunts."

"Deal, big bro" she said, leaning in.

As they drove back home, Naira felt a little lighter, the weight of the week slowly lifting. She didn't have all the answers, but she had her brothers—and for now, that was enough.