Force of Gravity • NM

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Back at Mystic Falls, Kol was the first to say it out loud. "It's not just a dream, is it?"

Silence settled around the room, thick with unspoken tension.

"No," Elijah admitted. His usual composed expression was shadowed with something else—something close to worry. "It's more than a dream. It's a call for help."

They had all seen it. The same image in their sleep—golden hair, piercing blue eyes, a voice echoing through the wind, calling their names.

Freya.

"The first-born Mikaelson," Bonnie murmured, flipping through the grimoires scattered across the coffee table. "But she died, didn't she?"

"That's what we were told," Rebekah's voice crackled, Henry giggling in the background, over the speakerphone. "But if she's reaching out...then perhaps we were lied to."

Damon scoffed. "Wow, the Mikaelsons lied to each other? Shocker."

Elena shot him a look, but he just raised his glass in mock innocence.

Kol ignored him, his expression dark. "The dreams started after we spoke to Mother. Either she left something out, or she didn't know the full story herself."

They had tried locator spells before, but every attempt had been blocked. Now, with Bonnie and a reluctant Kai working together, the barriers were weakening.

The candles flickered violently, wind spiraling around them as the spell intensified. Bonnie's voice grew sharper, commanding.

Then, suddenly—

A vision. A decayed, abandoned house, hidden in dense woods, surrounded by ancient magic. The scent of time long forgotten. A woman trapped inside.

The map on the table burned at a single point.

"There," Kai exhaled. "That's where we find your long-lost sister."

The room fell silent, except for the quiet sound of the fire crackling.

"Looks haunted," Damon said.

"Probably is," Caroline deadpanned.

Kol smirked. "Let's go, then."

Klaus sat in the armchair, arms folded, gaze set on the screen as Henry waved excitedly at Stefan and Rebekah.

"Uncle Elijah! Guess what?" Henry's little voice rang out.

Klaus raised an eyebrow, as he heard his brother speak over the phone "What, little warrior?"

Henry grinned, bouncing slightly. "I beat Aunt Naira in hide-and-seek!"

Naira groaned dramatically. "He cheats."

Stefan smirked. "He takes after his mom."

Rebekah, rolling her eyes fondly, finally turned to Klaus. "Nik...you saw the dream, didn't you?"

Klaus's jaw tensed. "Yes."

"Then you know we have to find her."

There was no argument. Only a quiet nod.

"We'll handle it here," Rebekah said firmly. "Just keep Henry safe."

Klaus glanced at Henry, who was now holding his stuffed wolf, drowsy but still watching them. His face softened just slightly.

"You needn't remind me."

Rebekah gave him one last look, then smiled gently at Henry. "Goodnight, my love."

"Goodnight, Mumma! Goodnight, Pops!" Henry chirped at Stefan, who gave him a mock salute, as the call ended.

Naira sighed, standing up. "I'll be back in a bit. Need some herbs for a protection spell."

Klaus didn't look at her, still staring at the blank screen.

She hesitated, then left. The forest was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves under Naira's feet. She plucked a few sprigs of vervain, some rosemary, and an herb for sealing magic.

She had done this a thousand times. It should have been easy.

But she hadn't seen the sharp branch sticking out at an angle. A sharp sting—then warmth. Blood welled up on her palm. Naira hissed, shaking her hand. "Damn it." Ignoring it, she turned back, clutching the herbs carefully in her good hand.

By the time she returned, Henry was playing with his wooden knight, completely oblivious. Klaus was nowhere in sight.

She stepped into the kitchen, placing the herbs on the counter, focusing on dinner.

She was slicing vegetables when— A drop of red. Then another.

She blinked at her hand, at the slow trickle of blood escaping from her earlier wound. Then— A blur of motion.

Klaus was suddenly there, snatching her wrist before another drop could fall. "You idiot," he growled. "You could've bled all over the food—give me your hand."

She startled, staring up at him.

He was still angry. Still cold. But his grip on her was firm, careful.

Naira didn't move as he grabbed a cloth, cleaned the wound a little too gently for someone who was still furious with her. The silence stretched. Then, softly— "I thought you didn't care," she whispered.

Klaus stilled.

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his face before he cleared his throat, dropping her hand as if burned.

"I don't," he said gruffly. He turned away. "But if you bleed into Henry's dinner, he might inherit your stubbornness, and I won't allow that."

Naira rolled her eyes, but her heart ached. She didn't press. Because for now, this was enough.