We never had to force love. We were drowning in it the moment we met.
Five years ago Claire met the Mikaelson's and her entire world changed. She lost friends, family but gained new ones. She's experienced true heartbreak but found the meaning of ha...
*This chapter isn't as original as I wanted it to be, it pretty much falls the episode but I tried to make it different but I just couldn't do it in a way that I liked. I hope it's still good!*
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"Well, well, well, well... If it isn't the bastard himself," Mikael snarls at Klaus. "Have you come looking for another beating, boy?"
"Go ahead," Henrik snarls back, taking a step forward. "Touch him and see what happens," Klaus lightly grabs his jacket and pulls his brother back to his side.
"Henrik," Mikael greets, his glare lessening. He knew his son had returned from the dead but this is the first time he's seeing him in person. He wished things had gone differently that night. He wished Henrik had survived. He wondered how different things would have turned out had Henrik lived.
"As much as I'd love to kill you again," Klaus states, bringing the attention back to himself. "I wonder if our interests might be better served by joining forces. You know full well the threat we face. So, how about it, Mikael? Care to join the bastard son on a witch-hunt?"
Mikael's obviously intrigued. Henrik leads the two of them toward a restaurant where they take a booth by the window. Mikael goes from glaring at Klaus to glancing at Henrik. He wonders what kind of man Henrik turned out to be.
Henrik meets Mikael's look a few times but otherwise ignores him. He doesn't remember much of his human life but he remembers Mikael's cruelty. Growing up Henrik and Klaus always confided in each other when Mikael became too much. When Klaus said he was going to confront their father, Henrik instantly stood to join him. He wasn't about to let his brother face the man alone.
They sit at the table silently. Mikael's glaring, Klaus looks far too smug, and Henrik is uncomfortably fidgeting. Henrik glances at the white oak stake his brother is fiddling with in his hands. Klaus is holding Mikael's stare as if daring him to make a move for the weapon. Mikael doesn't.
"You want some fries with that stake?" The waitress jokes, looking at the wooden object in Klaus' hand. Klaus smirks and lets out a small laugh. "I bought one of my own at Marie Laveau's voodoo shop,"
"I'll have a bourbon, please, sweetheart," Klaus orders. He smirks while he looks at the waitress. If Claire had been with them she would have pouted at Klaus for calling her sweetheart. His little witch hated when he used sweet names for other women. He didn't do it often but when he did it was mostly to get a reaction from her. He loved how her nose would scrunch in anger.
"Nothing. Leave us," Mikael snips not giving her a glance. The waitress leaves awkwardly. "I despise this city," Mikael growls.
"Feel free to leave," Henrik told him. Mikael glances at him but Klaus brings the attention back to him once again.
"Cut to the chase, shall we?" Klaus suggests not interested in small talk. "Your precious Freya told me she sent you off to procure certain items that will expedite the death of your sister-in-law. May I assume you completed your task?"
