Actions

Work Header

The Memory of you is Present Enough

Summary:

It's Hope's first birthday and her first Yule without her parents, and she hates it. On the other hand, it's her first holiday with the rest of her family, maybe the presents will be enough to distract her

Notes:

So it's no longer Yule but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. According to google Icelandic is the closest language we have to Old Norse, and the runic translators I found online felt sketchy to me so if we could all pretend they are speaking old Norse I'd appreciate it. (apologies for any errors made by google translate.)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The Memory of You is Present Enough

Hope Mikaelson woke up and immediately regretted it. Dawn was just beginning to break on the darkest day of the year, but it was still far too bright for her. She waved her hand vaguely towards the curtains, and they slid shut. Flopping onto her side and burying her face into her pillows, she prayed to several gods she wasn't sure she believed in to stop the day from coming. After a few moments of nothing happening, she realized these prayers would go unanswered, and she would have to face the day she'd been dreading. Happy birthday to me.

The young witch groaned and rubbed her hands down her face. Maybe she could say she was sick? Hope smiled to herself it could work, they were, after all, in a post-pandemic world, it’d be the responsible thing to keep her home, in her room where no one could see or speak to her. Her smile dropped when she remembered she couldn't get sick, she wouldn’t even know what to fake.

Hope rolled over, and it took her considerable restraint not to set her alarm clock on fire when she saw the date obnoxiously blinking at her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She had promised Emma she wouldn’t set anything else on fire this year. Focusing on her aunts' steady heartbeats, she tried to let the sound lull her into a meditative state. It wouldn't be long before Freya was awake, the elder witch was allergic to sleeping more than six hours a night, which was fair considering all the centuries she had spent in a coffin. Keelin had been taking more hours at the hospital lately so she could take time off whenever they were able to have their baby. The more she listened to their heartbeats though, the more she heard the deafening lack of her mother's heart. It was her first birthday without her parents, and it was all her fault.

She screwed her eyes shut tight, but that did nothing to block her frenzied thoughts. It's my fault. It's all my fault. Her family was dead, and it was all her fault. A dry sob caught in her throat, she clenched her fist, and the vase beside her shattered. It was too hot. Hope kicked off her blankets, but it offered her no relief. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t-

"Hope?" Freya called through the door. "Are you alright?"

Hope blinked. Freya. Freya was there, alive, and Hope was an idiot. The panic receded only to be replaced by mortification.

"Hope, if you don't answer me in the next three seconds, I'm coming in."

Hope shot out of bed and yanked her door open just as the lock clicked.

"Hi," she said a little breathlessly. "Uh, Glaðligr Jól." Happy yule . She greeted her aunt lamely.

Freya stared at her, her eyes narrowing on the sweat covering her brow.

Hope was desperate for anything else to say when she noticed the giant tankards in Freya’s hands. A small smile bloomed on her face, "Hot chocolate?"

"Of course, it's tradition." Freya handed her a mug, " til hamingju með afmælið sæta mín."  Happy birthday, my sweet. Hope sipped her drink, the whipped cream brushed her nose, and she felt warm for the first time in months.

"Takk Freyja frænka." Thank you, Aunt Freya. Freya wiped the cream off her nose with a smile and waited. Hope stepped aside to let her in.

Freya grabbed a brush and some pins off her vanity and sat on the edge of her bed and Hope sat at her feet. "What story would you like to hear?" she asked as she undid Hope’s loose ponytail.

Hope paused as she felt the first tender brushstrokes along her scalp. It had been so long since she had been touched with so much care she could feel Freya’s love, a mother's love, in every movement. It stole her breath and brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "There are so many. " she said with a false brightness. 

"I know your favorite. " Freya said, and Hope could hear the warm smile in her voice.  The witch snapped her fingers and Hope’s fireplace sparked to life.  Freya began braiding her hair and Hope laughed as her aunt told her how Thor was able to get his hammer back from the king of the Giants by dressing up as the goddess of magic, Freyja.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Freya said as she put the finishing touches on Hope’s flower-shaped bun braid and handed her a mirror.

A slight blush rose to Hope’s cheeks, “you did all the work.”

“I just did some set-dressing your beauty is all you.” Freya looked out of the window “there'll be solstice celebrations starting soon.” Hope winced. “You don't have to go if you don't want to,” she began quickly, “I just thought with it being the first one since… you might want something to take your mind off of things. but we can do whatever you want, I promise.”

Hope looked around the room she was so intent on avoiding the day and all the baggage that came with it but her mom would be so upset if she knew that she was the reason Hope was missing out on something she usually enjoyed. “Well, we can't let this hairstyle go to waste, can we?” Her smile was neither false nor genuine as she took Freya’s hand.

The two Mikaelson witches stood in the middle of Jackson Square, along with many other New Orleans witches celebrating the solstice. They were gathering to reaffirm their connection to nature, some witches were planting seeds, others were doing harmony spells, and all of them were slightly uncomfortable by Hope’s presence. For once though, Hope didn't mind, she found it sort of funny as they all came up one by one to wish her happy birthday, and just by standing there, she reminded them of the time they almost sacrificed a baby on a day of peace.

Vincent came up to her, she relaxed he was her friend and knew he would mean his well-wishes.  “Happy birthday, Hope,” he said handing her a poppet.  She could smell the healing herbs inside of it. “May it bring you peace and prosperity in the new year.”

 Well, it's not like I could have a worse year, is it? She thought nastily. But attempted to swallow her bitterness Vincent meant well.  “Thank you.”

Later that night, after she had eaten with her aunts Freya announced the one thing Hope had been dreading all day. The bonfire. It used to be her favorite part of the holiday, Hope, her mother, Freya, and sometimes even Keelin would gather around a bonfire and toss their wishes into it. Every year her mother would say her wishes counted extra because it was her birthday. Even Freya had once told her that it was good luck to be born on the solstice, it meant you would have a good life. It was all a lie.

 Her wishes had only ever come true once, the year she turned seven, she wished her mom would find a way to get her family back together and it worked. By the Spring Equinox, her family was complete, and she'd never been happier but by a trick, so cruel Loki wouldn't even attempt it, her family was torn apart in a much more permanent way. But every year she went back to the bonfire and wished and wished for them. Then once she decided she’d had enough of wishing and took matters into her own hands her family was broken forever, and no amount of wishing could fix it.

“I don't think I'm up for the bonfire this year, Aunt Freya. I wouldn't even know what to wish for.”

Freya smiled, “I understand. We'll be outside if you change your mind.”

Hope went up to her room and locked the door. She collapsed onto her bed and hugged a pillow tightly to her chest. She wanted to cry but was too exhausted. Screwing her eyes shut tight, she prayed that sleep would come soon, and the day would finally be over. Sleep didn't come and all she could focus on were the sounds of Freya and Keelin gathering the wood and the sudden whoosh of flames being brought to life by Freya’s magic. She couldn't ignore the distant crackling of flame no matter how hard she tried.

“Fine,” She grumbled to the universe or the gods or whoever was listening, “You want me to make a wish, I’ll make a wish.” I just want to see my family, all of them, again.  For a beat, there was nothing but the sound of the bonfire, and then out of nowhere, she could hear a car, no two cars.

“Where is she?” Her aunt Rebekah asked. Hope was moving before Freya could even start to answer. She arrived in the courtyard faster than even her werewolf abilities should have been able to take her. Unsure if she was dreaming, she stood and stared at them. They all yelled, “surprise!” and she was wrapped in impossibly strong arms.

Hope Mikaelson was having the best birthday of her life. It was the first one she’d had where she was surrounded by people she loved, rather than trying to ignore their glaring absences and glitchy astral projections. She laughed and ended up dancing with Kol and Marcel until her feet hurt, something she didn't even know was possible for her, ate cake with her family, and just basked in the solidity of their presence.


“You guys, this is way too much.” Hope gaped at the massive pile of presents her family brought her.

“Nonsense it’s your birthday, there’s no such thing as too much.” Rebekah stated matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, if you think this is extravagant, Kol wanted to buy you a castle.” Davina wagged a finger at her husband.

“Excuse you,” Kol said mock offended, “I did not want to buy her a castle. I wanted to give her a castle. Quite different.”

The gifts she got were expensive and glamorous, and some of them were very, very old. She appreciated them and would cherish them, but she couldn't help feeling a little bit empty.  Ungrateful, she chided herself. “I’ll be right back.” She dashed up the stairs.

The Tribrid placed carefully wrapped packages in front of her family. “What’s all this?” Marcel asked.

“It’s Yule.” Hope said simply. “Open them!” She demanded when they hesitated, they had always told her she didn’t have to worry about getting them anything. They didn’t need it. Well, she didn’t need one of Queen Victoria’s bracelets, so they were even in her book.

Freya and Keelin were the first to open their gift.  The iron base was intricately carved to resemble a tree trunk with a serpent wrapped around it, and there were nine globes resting on several sprawling branches. “ Actus,” Hope whispered. A shimmering, golden light glowed within the globes and surrounded still scenes of each of the nine realms.

Yggdrasil .” Freya breathed. The tree of life.

Hope nodded. “I thought it could go in the baby’s room.”  

 "Of course," Keelin hugged her tightly.

"It's beautiful, Hope." Freya wiped her eyes.

Kol opened his gift next. A silver ring with Loki's golden helm. He slipped it on and Marcel was suddenly in his place. It became so quiet Freya could’ve heard a pin drop and all at once the Mikaelsons exploded into laughter, save for Kol and Marcel. “What the bloody hell is going on?" Her uncle shouted, clamping a hand over his mouth when he heard his-Marcel’s voice. He quickly pulled the ring off and was immediately himself again.

Hope couldn't contain her laughter at the outrage plain on Kol’s face. "It's a glamor ring," she explained through gasping breaths. She was so distracted she didn’t even notice him stalking over to her.

"You spelled a ring to make me look like Marcel?" He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. She squealed as he began to tickle her. "My favorite niece pulling a trick so cruel on this very night of Yule, I just can't believe it!" he wailed dramatically, prancing around the courtyard.

"Uncle Kol! Put me down!" Hope tried wiggling out of his iron grip.

"No, I don't think I will.  Not until you've told me where you learned such devious tricks."

"Put-put me down or I'll hex you!" She struggled to get out. 

"You lot hear her?" He turned to face their family, "pranks and threats. Where could we have gone wrong?" He tsked. The Original began tickling her harder. "Can't hex me if you can't breathe, can you?"

"Freya, help!" Hope pleaded.

"Freya can’t help you,” Kol laughed maniacally, “she has a strict no-aiding-pranksters policy, don’t you sister?”

“Sorry Hope,” Freya said not sounding sorry and in fact sounding very amused, “as much as it pains me to say your uncle is right.”

"But it wasn’t a prank!" Hope gasped, laughing so hard tears sprang to her eyes. "I spelled the ring to make you look like anyone, you must've been thinking about Marcel." Kol finally stopped running and tickling her as he processed her words.

"Oh, how sweet I knew you cared about me Kol." Marcel laughed heartily.

"Shut up, Marcellus!"

"Kol, behave."

"It's alright, D, we all know what's inside his heart."  Marcel mocked. Kol glowered at him. “And on his mind.” Kol grabbed a pencil and threw it at supernatural speed. Marcel easily caught it and moved to get up from his chair. Only to stop in his tracks at a lifted eyebrow from Davina.

Kol repositioned Hope so he could look her in the eye. “Is this true?”

“Why would I lie? It took forever to find, skin, and boil that much mandrake. Will you please let me down now?!” Hope watched a child-like wonder fill his eyes. Plans for mischief she was sure were worthy of Loki, and it was almost enough for her to forgive him for parading her around like a sack of potatoes. Almost.

“Hey, Bex, you know what we haven’t played in far too long?”

Rebekah stared at Kol in confusion, then her eyes lit up in recognition before she flashed to the other side of the courtyard. Kol grinned and followed suit.

A look of horror dawned on Hope’s face as she realized what they were about to do “No! No! I’m too big for this I’m too old you can’t!”

Her uncle scoffed, “I hate to be the one to break it to you, darling, but you stopped growing at twelve there’s not much you’ll ever be too big for,” Hope made an indignant noise. “Certainly not toss the Tribrid.”

Toss the Tribrid. The game the two Originals made up the day Hope had officially met her family for the first time. Kol approached her and told her, her dad asked him to keep an eye on her while he and her mom discussed “serious adult things” and asked if she liked to climb trees of all things. It had been one of her favorite things to do but she wasn’t allowed to climb in her new shoes, and she almost made it inside to change into her sneakers when Rebekah stopped her and said it might be a good idea to play catch instead. Except she didn’t have a ball outside. Kol smirked and said they didn’t need one.  Hope didn’t know what her father had expected when he asked Kol to watch her (Hope later learned he did not ask Kol he asked Elijah and Kol had incapacitated him so he could cement his position as the favorite uncle) but his younger siblings tossing Hope around the yard like a discus, hadn’t been it. She could still remember the shock and horror etched on his face when he came across them.

Hope, for her part, had a blast. It was the first time she had played with someone who wasn’t her mom, or grandma Mary. And she got to use her abilities to their fullest extent as she sailed through the air. Looking back on it, she was entirely grateful for the vampire blood running through her veins. Perhaps, she should have gotten Freya’s future kid a helmet.

“As for you being too old for something,” Kol continued, “we can discuss that on your five hundredth birthday.” He began swinging her back and forth, “three, two, one toss the Tribrid.” He launched her out of his arms. A lot had changed since the last time they had played. She was an active werewolf for one, and she did several flips in the air before she landed upright at Rebekah’s feet.

“If you three are done playing,” Freya said, “ I believe there are more presents to open.”

Davina opened her present, and her eyes lit up at being given a jar of jam. “Food!” she smiled at Hope. “This detailing is beautiful,” she traced the etching of the young girl and her basket gently. 

“It’s the Goddess Iðunn,” Hope said simply. “She’s the Goddess of eternal youth.” Kol and Davina looked up at her. Hope explained the mixture wouldn’t give Davina eternal life, something the older witch didn’t want anyway, but it should give them more time together.

Marcel opened the box in front of him and grinned broadly at the painted wooden horse resting on tissue paper. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yes, now Percival can finally become a Calvary man.”

“His life-long dream.” Marcel smiled no one but his sister would remember the backstory he’d given his favorite childhood toy. “Thank you for making his dreams come true.”

Rebekah was the last to open her gift. “Oh,” she picked up the small statue.  “Fenrir.” She gasped as she examined the fearsome wolf more closely. “It's lovely, thank you Hope.”

“There's more to it auntie Bex,” the tribrid sat down next to her aunt and held up a needle. Rebekah, curious to see exactly what her brilliant niece had come up with this time, nodded her consent. Hope pricked her index finger and let the singular drop of blood drip into the wolf's open mouth and the figure’s eyes glowed a deep scarlet as the magic settled.

“Well don’t keep us in suspense love. What’s it do?” Kol said sitting on the edge of his seat, grinning like a nine-year-old that had had too much sugar.

Rebekah grinned and said, “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” as if she already knew what it did and had no plans to share.

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Kol grumbled. In a flash he stood up and attempted to snatch the wolf out of Rebekah's hands. A large translucent wolf with fur as black as the solstice sky shot out of the statue and began to charge the Original. Kol was, for the first time in his very long life, too stunned to speak as the wolf with paws as big as his face pinned him down.

Hope smiled wide as she watched the scene, knowing that no matter where life took her Aunt, she would always have a protector with her

“Oh, this is brilliant!” Rebekah laughed so hard that Hope thought she may have seen tears in her eyes.

“Turn it off!” Kol shouted from the floor.

“No, I don't think I will” Rebekah echoed his words from earlier as Marcel took a picture with his phone.

“Children please.” Freya said tiredly, “We can't keep him there all night no matter how funny it would be.” She shot her younger sister a stern look

“Oh alright,” Rebekah relented, “In the spirit of Yule, brother. Hope would you do the honors?”

“Oh no, it's your guard only you can turn it off.”

Rebekah was liking her gift more and more. “Hæl.” Heel. She commanded the wolf. Kol stood up and dusted himself off the instant it faded.

“See uncle, now, that was a prank.”

 “Why you little-”  He began chasing her around the courtyard once again.

Hope did not remember when or how she fell asleep but she must’ve because she woke the moment her back hit the mattress. “Hey,” she said sleepily.

Rebekah smiled, “There you are. Selfishly, I was hoping you’d wake. I wanted to say thank you again for my present I know how hard it must have been for you to make it.”

 Hope blinked. “Yeah, the magic with a little tricky but-” 

Rebekah put a hand up to stop her, “ I don't mean the magic sweetheart. I meant the wolf itself.” she sat down next to her niece and held her hand, “It was your father, wasn't it? His wolf?” The Original had tears in her eyes.

 Hope's throat tightened and she was unable to speak, she hadn't thought any of her family would recognize her father's wolf. She had only seen it once in Elijah's memory when she was seven. Wiping away her tears, “I just thought he'd always want a part of keeping you safe. If it's too much I can-”

“Sweetheart it's perfect. I love it. Honestly,” she laughed, “It makes all the presents we got you seem woefully inadequate.”

Hope snorted,  “I think the only thing you didn't give me tonight are the crown jewels.”

“Do you want them?” Rebekah asked with a lifted brow.

The tribrid’s eyes widened, “no, I’m all set for jewelry.”

“Well all right, but I did have one more gift to give you tonight.”

“Bex,” She groaned.

“None of that now, it is still your birthday,” she checked her watch, “ for fifteen minutes, and  Yule festivities last all week. Close your eyes.”

“Okay,” Hope sighed And close her eyes, “What's this mysterious gift?”

“The best Yule gift your father ever gave me.”

 “Hello, sister.” His voice made her heart stop, she turned around and saw her father leaning against a large black truck holding a bundle-no holding her.

“Oh, she looks like her mother. Maybe there is a God after all.” Rebekah said bathed in the glow of headlights

Klaus smirked at his baby sister, “Well, she has a hint of the devil in her eyes. That's all me.” Hope couldn’t help but laugh the only time anyone compared her positively to her father is when they talked about her eyes. His voice turned deadly serious, “You'll need a witch you can trust to cast a cloaking spell.”

“I'll get one.”

“No one can ever find her.”

“I know what to do, Nik.  Perhaps we'll get a white fence. I think that would be lovely.”

“This city would have seen you dead. But, I will have it your home. And every soul who wishes you harm will be struck down, just as sure as my blood runs in your veins. You will return to me.” Hope stared at this man, her father. The Great Evil. As he swore this solemn oath to her with such love in his eyes, it shook her to the core. She had always known her father loved her, of course, but the her was speaking to wasn't even a day old. He truly loved her just for existing.  

 “In spite of our differences, Rebekah, there is no one I would trust more with my daughter's life. Be happy, sister.”

“She will be happy, Nik. I promise.”

Hope was back on her bed staring at her aunt. The blond Original immediately scooped her up into a hug.

I-I þakka þér Rebekka frænka.” Thank you, Aunt Rebekah . She sobbed, “ hann elskaði mig alltaf.”  He always loved me.

Alltaf og að eilífu.” Always and forever.

 

 

 

Notes:

Hope Mikaelson is a winter baby and I will die on this hill.