Red Thread ▹ Rebekah Mikaelson

001.

red thread.

001. pinned up like butterflies for men so violent, it's a wonder they didn't tear their mothers apart

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     Mystic Falls, 1864

     Foster sucked in a breath when Emily pulled the drawstrings tight on her corset whilst Katherine sat snickering quietly at Foster's obvious discomfort.

"I don't understand why I have to dress like this," Foster said, hands braced on the side of the mirror.

Emily looked around her, face twisted in sympathy. "Your father insisted. The Fells are visiting."

"And you wants to make me presentable so he can marry me off to that troll," Foster mumbled, wincing when Emily pulled again.

"He doesn't seem so bad, Foster," Katherine said. Foster raised an eyebrow and stepped away from the mirror when Emily tied her off. Katherine smirked at her expression. "Well, at least he's handsome and wealthy."

"He's not the kindest man, though. Father is only interested in the Fell's land. He'd have better luck betrothing Stefan or Damon with Honoria."

"Speaking of a troll."

Foster giggled along with Katherine. The Salvatore walked over to her small vanity, gently picking up a small perfume bottle and handing it to her friend. "You should have this. Father brought it from his trip, and, truth be told, I think it is a tad strong for me."

Katherine smiled and took it before Foster walked into the hall. Squeezing the puffer, Katherine sprayed her wrist, hissing at the burning sensation the liquid called.

"Foster?" she called out. Foster appeared in the doorway. "Did you father mention any of the ingredients in the perfume?"

"I don't remember. He just told me to wear it, that it'd keep the unwanted away. If only it kept that Fell away," Foster chuckled, brushing the ends of her hair before she turned back to Katherine. "Why?"

Katherine shook her head, handing Foster the glass bottle. "I think it suits you perfectly. And you're father was right, you should always wear it."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Foster nodded and placed the bottle on the surface of her vanity. "I should leave now," she said, solemnly watching the carriage outside the window. "Wouldn't want to keep my future husband waiting. How do I look?"

"You look beautiful," Katherine told her. Foster nodded and turned to walk out of the door, hand hovering over the knob.

"Katherine, do you ever think that, one day, we will be free of this ‒ of being mere dolls to men?" Foster questioned, her voice quiet.

"I like to hope," the Petrova answered.

Foster turned her head, only slightly to where Katherine was looking at the side of her face, and the way her jaw clenched and the way she bit her lip.
"I wish I could live to see that day."

‒ just a little snippet of human!foster.
would anyone be interested in more of these short interludes?