Force of Gravity • NM

•62•

The forest clearing was heavy with silence when they arrived. The illusion over the asylum had fallen broken by Bonnie's tethered spell, and now, the Mikaelson brothers stood framed by the dying embers of magic.

Elijah, his suit jacket speckled with dirt, lifted his head first at the sound of footsteps. Relief softened the eternal composure of his face.

"Naira," he breathed, a rare, genuine smile flickering across his lips.

Behind him, Finn's features, usually rigid and distrustful, eased just slightly. His voice carried an edge, but not unkind. "You came."

Before Naira could reply, Klaus stepped forward, smirk sharp and biting. "Forgive me, but last I checked, I'm the brother here. Or did the pair of you forget?"

Elijah's brows rose. "We're all here for family, Niklaus. Must you turn it into a contest?"

"Must you always pretend it isn't?" Klaus shot back, though his voice carried more play than venom.

Naira ignored them both, giggling softly, her eyes settling on the figure half-shielded behind Elijah and Finn. A woman fair, regal, with pale hair and guarded blue eyes. There was exhaustion in her stance, but also undeniable strength.

"Freya," Finn said gently, gesturing her forward. "This is Naira our ally. And Niklaus, our brother."

Freya's gaze flickered over Klaus first, cautious. He stood tall, chin raised, as though daring her to be disappointed. Then her eyes shifted to Naira, and something softened in her expression.

Naira stepped closer, her voice quiet but steady. "Welcome back to your family, Freya."

The simple words seemed to disarm her more than any flourish of power or bloodline could have. Freya blinked once, then inclined her head—accepting the welcome, though her eyes shimmered with unspoken grief.

The Mikaelson brothers occupied the corners of the living room in their nearest safehouse like shadows, but it was Naira who had coaxed Freya onto the sofa by the fire.

At first, Freya sat stiff, fingers knotting the hem of her sleeve. But Naira's tone was gentle, open, free of judgment. Slowly, the elder Mikaelson sister began to speak.

"I was one year old when Dahlia took me," she began, voice distant, as if reciting an old wound. "Our mother made a bargain with her sister long before we were born. Firstborn of every generation... claimed by Dahlia. Esther thought she could cheat her. But magic has a way of keeping its promises."

Naira listened intently, her hand resting lightly on the arm of the chair as if she could ground Freya without touching her.

"She raised me with spells," Freya continued, her jaw tightening. "Taught me to draw power from the soil, the stars, even from sleep. Every seven years, I would wither and fade... and she would place me in slumber, drawing strength from me while I lay frozen. I awoke each time to find decades had passed. My friends gone. Villages changed. And Dahlia still there."

Her lips trembled faintly, but she steadied them with a breath. "I hated her. I feared her. But I survived her. And all the while, I held on to the thought of you. My family."

Across the room, Elijah bowed his head, pained. Finn's eyes flickered away.

Naira leaned closer, her voice a soft thread. "Please tell me you tried to find them?"

Freya's gaze sharpened, surprised. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes. When I was still a girl. Dahlia had weakened after a long spell, and I slipped away for a day. I found the village. I found..." She broke off, her throat tightening.

Klaus, who had been lurking against the mantel with arms crossed, frowned. "What?"

Freya looked at him directly, her expression trembling with memory. "I found you, Niklaus. You were by the waterfall, no more than four years old. You had mud on your face and wildflowers in your hands. I spoke to you."

Klaus's brow furrowed. "I've no memory of this."

"You wouldn't," Freya said softly. "Children forget what they cannot place. But I remember the way your eyes lit when I asked your name. You told me proudly 'Nik.' And for that one moment, I wasn't Dahlia's prisoner. I was your sister."

The room went still.

Klaus looked away, jaw clenching. For once, there was no witty remark ready on his tongue. The mask of arrogance faltered, and behind it lingered something raw a glimmer of that forgotten bond.

Elijah's voice was low, reverent. "Freya..."

But it was Naira who broke the silence, her voice gentle yet firm. "Family finds its way back, no matter how much time has passed. You're here now. And you're not alone anymore."

Freya's eyes filled, and though she blinked them back, her hand found Naira's briefly grasping like a drowning woman catching a rope.

From his place by the mantel, Klaus's gaze lingered on the sight, unreadable. But when Freya glanced at him again, searching for rejection, his lips curved just slightly.

"Well," he said finally, voice rough but steady. "Seems I have another sister to torment."

It wasn't much. But to Freya, it was enough.