Force of Gravity • NM

•52•

The Sunday dinner had been chaotic enough after Rebekah and Naira confessed to having the same recurring dreams—of a girl with Finn's features, warning them about someone coming for Henry. The room had erupted in confusion, Klaus pacing furiously, Elijah deep in thought, Kol rolling his eyes in dismissal, and Damon making some snarky remark about their family's never-ending drama.

But nothing prepared them for what came next.

Just as Bonnie and Naira had started gathering supplies to contact Esther from the Other Side, the front door flew open with a familiar dramatic entrance.

Katherine Pierce—wrapped in a dark coat, her eyes sharp and alive with mischief—strolled in as if she owned the place.

"Well, well. Just like old times," she smirked, pulling off her gloves and tossing them onto the table. "I see family meetings are still a weekly disaster."

"Katherine." Rebekah's voice was tight, her body immediately tense.

"Miss me?" Katherine teased before waving a dismissive hand. "No, don't answer that. I already know the answer."

Kol groaned. "Fantastic. As if this day couldn't get any worse."

Damon leaned back, arms crossed. "Oh, great. Satan's publicist is back. What do you want?"

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Calm down, Damon. I come bearing news. And trust me, it's not good."

That caught everyone's attention. Even Klaus, who had been brooding by the fireplace, turned sharply toward her.

"There's something happening in New Orleans. The witches there are unsettled. Whispers about old magic resurfacing—something big."

Elijah, ever the collected one, frowned. "And you care because?"

"Because I saw something," Katherine admitted, crossing her arms. "A woman. Dressed in black, eyes like ice. She was asking questions about you lot. About the Mikaelsons. About a baby..."

The room fell into a thick silence.

Rebekah's stomach twisted at the mention of her son. "Henry?" she repeated, her voice betraying a rare moment of fear.

Klaus's jaw clenched, the glass in his hand shattering from the pressure.

"Elaborate," Elijah ordered, voice razor-sharp.

Katherine hesitated for a second, but only a second. "I don't know who he is, but he's powerful. The witches are terrified. And if they're scared, we should be, too."

Kol scoffed. "Or maybe it's just another desperate warlock looking for immortality."

"You think I'd waste my time coming here if it were that simple?" Katherine shot back.

"She has a point," Bonnie admitted reluctantly.

"We don't have time for this," Stefan said, standing abruptly. "We were about to contact Esther. If anyone knows who this mystery woman is, it's her."

The thought of contacting their mother still didn't sit well with most of them, but desperation made them reckless.

But before they could begin, there was Henry to consider.

Rebekah insisted that Henry shouldn't be anywhere near necromantic magic, so she sent him off with Caroline and Sage to the Grill.

"No ice cream before dinner. No running inside the restaurant. No talking to strangers. No wandering off." Rebekah rattled off instructions like a machine gun, pacing in front of the car.

Henry, now almost two years old, sat in the car seat, kicking his feet impatiently. "Mummy, I know! You tell me ev'ry time."

"I don't tell you enough if you're still this reckless," Rebekah muttered.

Caroline shot her a look. "Beks, relax. It's just the Grill, not a battlefield."

"That's what they said about Mystic Falls, and we all know how that ended," Kai added dryly.

Kai was coming along too, because apparently, he had nothing better to do. "Ooooh, this is gonna be fun," he grinned, buckling in beside Henry. "We'll eat fries, mock people, and maybe even summon a minor demon."

Rebekah's eyes flared. "You lay one finger on a spell, and I'll rip your tongue out."

Kai just grinned. "Noted."

Sage, already sitting in the driver's seat, rolled her eyes. "Can we leave before Rebekah has a breakdown?"

With a reluctant sigh, Rebekah shut the car door, waving them off as they drove away.

"I still don't like this," she muttered, watching them disappear down the road.

Stefan placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "He'll be fine."

Rebekah exhaled slowly. "He better be."

With Henry out of the house, the Mikaelsons and the others gathered in the living room, Bonnie and Naira preparing the spell.

The flames flickered as Bonnie began chanting, the air growing thick with power. The room dimmed, the temperature dropping.

And then—a figure formed in the shadows.

Esther Mikaelson.

But something was different.

Gone was the woman of cold, ruthless logic. She looked... softer. Tired. A ghost of the formidable mother she once was.

"Hello, my children," she said, her voice carrying a rare warmth.

The room tensed. No one trusted her—not after everything she had done.

"Don't act all motherly now," Kol muttered. "We remember the whole 'kill my vampire children' thing."

Esther sighed. "I understand your anger. But that's not why I'm here."

Rebekah stepped forward, arms crossed tightly. "You know why we're calling. Tell us about her."

Esther's eyes softened. "You've seen Freya."

"She's alive, isn't she?" Finn asked, the weight of old memories in his voice.

"Yes," Esther admitted. "And she is more powerful than any of you realize."

Elijah frowned. "But she died..."

"No," Esther interrupted. "I told you she died... because the truth was far worse."

The room stilled.

"She was taken," Esther whispered. "By my sister, Dahlia."

A ripple of shock passed through the group.

"Your sister?" Naira asked, brows furrowed.

"She was a witch," Esther explained. "The strongest of our bloodline. But with power came madness. I made a deal with her—so she could let me have children. But in return, she demanded something..."

Silence fell.

"What?" Klaus's voice was like steel.

Esther swallowed, looking at Rebekah with something unreadable in her gaze.

"The firstborn of every Mikaelson generation," she whispered. "She came for Freya. And now, she will come for Henry."

The room erupted into arguments.

Kol was cursing. Rebekah was shaking. Stefan, Damon, and Naira stood stunned.

But Klaus—Klaus was eerily silent.

His hands trembled at his sides. He turned away, jaw tight, rage coiling under his skin.

Naira stepped closer, touching his arm gently. "Nik..."

His breathing was sharp, uneven.

She didn't say anything more—just stood there, grounding him. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling.

"We're not letting this happen, Klaus," she whispered. "We'll protect him. We always do."

His eyes met hers, something raw in them.

Naira squeezed his hand.

And just like that, war was coming.