Prompt: 

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PAST: Western Europe; 1002

“Nik!” Rebekah called, a large grin on her face as she ran to him. The blond rose an eyebrow at his sister’s exuberance, but made no move to join her in standing. When the girl said nothing, he chuckled.

“What is it, sister?” he asked, looking behind her to his brothers conversing with two of the noblemen they were staying with, Lucien no doubt lurking somewhere unseen.

“It’s almost time for the bonfire,” she said, taking his hand and tugging him up off the log. He quickly let his hand drop and the smile on her face followed suit a moment before she turned around. “Nik?” she asked, stepping toward him.

He shook his head. “You go, sister.”

She took his hand and gave a tug, frowning deeper as he didn’t respond. “Nik…” she tried, tentative as she looked over her shoulder, seeing Elijah glance her way. His eyes narrowed for a second at the picture before him before he swallowed and was pulled back into conversation. “Brother, please…”

But Niklaus didn’t want to. “Sister, it is a pointless tradition. None of the wishes we make for one another or ourselves come to pass… We should leave it. If not for the fact that it does not work then for the attraction it will bring… no other families celebrate in this way. It will be spoken about and Mikael will hear… then we’ll have to run. I know how much you enjoy it here, the freedom the noble life brings…” He watched as her face fell, somewhat pleased.

Then her chin rose, her lips pressed together as she looked him in the eye. “If you do not wish to participate, Nik, then you don’t have to. But the rest of us will be…”

And thus they did, Niklaus staying in the shadows. He was far away enough that they could not sense him and more to the point, he could not hear the wishes they were sharing. He watched as Elijah and Rebekah looked around, and the way their faces fell slightly when they did not find him.

Vampirism had given him a stealth and strength that had always alluded him in humanity. Thus, it was because of this that he was able to remain undetected once his family had left the bonfire pit to burn. He remained, watching the ashes as they swirled through the sky, thick smoke tendrils making his eyes narrow. He looked around before dashing forward with his supernatural speed, and he looked down, unsure, before he pulled out two rather large pieces of bark. On one he had scratched the wish he held for the rest of his family, as was their family tradition, whereas on the other was the wish he held for himself—a smaller tradition held only by the children of the Mikaelson family.

With a sigh, shoulders slumped, his eyes glanced over the words once more. A bitter smile on his lips, he threw them in carelessly, spinning and walking away immediately without watching as the bark fell apart and disintegrated under the heat of the fire.

I wish for the safety and happiness of my siblings in the face of our parents.

I wish for love and acceptance.

PRESENT: Mystic Falls; 2012

Klaus growled as he slammed the door, the foundations shaking from the force. He looked around as he entered the empty manor, sneering at the surroundings. He whooshed through to the liquor cabinet, raiding it for the scotch. Foregoing a glass, he opened the bottle and took a long swig. His hand is gripping the thick glass of the bottle so hard he can feel it start to give from the tension and he set it down hard on his desk, gripping the dark wood.

Anger was but one of the many emotions coursing through his veins this Christmas night.

His family was gone and he had no idea where… any of them were. Rebekah was still in Mystic Falls but refused to speak with him. His hybrids were gone…

Perhaps the only good thing was that Esther and Mikael had remained dead since their timely deaths. But of course, that never stopped the threats from numerous others.

He sighed hard and gripped the bottle again, downing a significant portion. He was already close to three sheets to the wind before arriving home so he was staggering as he made his way to his studio. The door slammed against the wall as he opened it, and he chuckled, a hollow sound in the empty and cold room, as he looked at the sketches and paintings around. Some were angry clashes of blacks and reds, others blues of the woods… but there was a collection that always stood out and he made his way for them, his expression now utterly aloof.

Gripping the bottle in his left hand, he took the sheet covering them in his right and with a sharp flick of his wrist, they were unveiled. His eyes drank in the images and he swallowed, looking down after a moment before peeking back up at them. He could never stray from the blonde flowing hair, the green eyes…

Caroline…

He shook his head, emotions swirling. A foolish hope, that someone so… full of light could ever love him. He’d hoped, he’d longed for acceptance and love and what had he received in return?

Betrayal… deceit… abandonment… the sneers of the woman he regretfully loved.

And yet he could not stop.

Even as he stood in front of the paintings, his eyes filled with tears that began to silently slide down his cheeks… he could not bring himself to feel one iota of hatred towards the vampire.

A small amount of determination, however, he did feel. He breathed in deeply, turning away from the paintings and walking out of the room. He checked his phone and searched for her number, staring for a long time. Did he call or simply text?

Sighing, he sat down in the living room in his armchair, taking another swig of the scotch—which was three quarters empty.

Merry Christmas, love.—Klaus

He stared at the fire after sending it, the notion of the family’s forgotten Christmas ritual swirling in his drunken mind. Before he knew what he was doing, he was up and out of the room. A pen and two small pieces of paper in hand when he returned, he scribed two sets of wishes. He chuckled humourlessly and looked around the room when he was finished then back at the fire, standing up and leaving the room. The papers remained untouched until the next morning, where he came upon them and scrunched them into a ball, throwing them into the bin under his desk.

FUTURE: New Orleans; 2015

The pitter-patter of small feet running down the halls made Klaus look up from his papers, a genuine and large smile already on his lips as the door opened and in a flash a small brunette ball of energy landed in his lap.

“Daddy!” Kari greeted him, her dimples showing as she grinned at him, her large blue eyes shining. He cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead, holding her close as he got up from his seat.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he said. He readjusted his two year old daughter on his hip as he walked to the door, leaving the room. “I thought your mother told you I was busy,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

The girl blushed and bit her lip, burrowing into her father’s embrace as she blinked up at him. The picture of innocence, she was just as cunning as the Original hybrid himself but he was powerless against her. Especially when she spoke, far more sophisticatedly than one would expect, her supernatural state making her far superior to a human or even wolf or witch two year old. “I’m sorry, daddy… I got excited…” They walked past a window and her legs tightened around his hips as she jumped with excitement. The bashful look on her face disappeared as an awed one took its place, her features filled with elation as she pointed toward the window—making him warm inside. “Look! It’s snowing!”

Klaus stopped and turned to the row of windows, holding her to him as they looked out them at the falling snow outside. “It is, love…”

“Uncle Kol said that he would take me out to make snow angels after dinner,” she prattled excitedly.

The blond smirked, darkly amused by the image of the second feared Mikaelson doing such an innocent thing—with a child no less. Then again, he would do anything for the little hybrid witch that had taken their family by both surprise and their hearts. “I’m sure he did…”

“He said Aunt Bekah and Uncle ‘lijah might not like it though… ‘cause it’s too cold…” she said, and she pouted, lifting her gaze to meet their identical match. She was slumped in his arms, clinging to him as she beseeched with pleading blue storms of emotion—another trait she’d received from her father. “Please, daddy,” she begged softly, her pout deepening. “Please can I go out and play? Uncle Kol will take good care of me!”

“Nik! Kari!” they heard a feminine, American accent call. A whoosh and the two blue-eyed Mikaelsons looked around to see the third member of their little trio leaning against the wall, a soft smile on her lips. “There you are… It’s time for the bonfire.”

Klaus grinned. His eyes roamed his wife’s form with a hungered promise she knew well. She was a sight for sore eyes even if he had only been cooped up in his office a few hours. The two hybrids smiled at one another as the Original repositioned their tribrid daughter on his other hip before reaching for his mate, arm outstretched as he raised an eyebrow. The brunette giggled and flashed into his arm on the other side of their daughter, on whose forehead she placed a kiss.

Klaus held his two girls close, breathing in his mate’s scent and sighing as he calmed, all tension leaving him as they simply stood there and watched the snow fall. Eventually, his daughter kicked to get down and he let her, watching until she was out of sight before he turned to his brown eyed other half.

“Hi,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck as she leaned up to kiss him on the mouth. He hummed into it, kissing her passionately, holding her body to his possessively but she did not mind. She loved it, craved it.

“Hello, love,” he murmured against her lips, his fingers combing through brunette curls. “Merry Christmas, Bella.”

Her grin widened as she withdrew from his arms, laughing outright at the pout that formed. “Nope, not gonna work, Mikaelson. It’s time for the bonfire… we’re holding everyone up.”

“It’s the same bloody thing as last year, and the year before, love,” he said, raising his eyebrow, a smirk on his lips.

“Nik…” she warned in that mother tone of hers, the one that never ceased to work on their whimsical, stubborn daughter. Another trait she had picked up from her father, but of course there was the double dose from her werewolf turned hybrid mother.

He sneered without any real malice behind it as the two knew, relenting with a petulant sigh. “Very well… Lead the way, love.”

She kissed his lips and sighed, leaning her forehead against his. She was of half the mind to just stay there, maybe sneak back to their ro—

“Nik, Bella!” they heard the only female Original call, the echoes of her stiletto heels slapping down on the cement accompanying. They separated.

“We’re bloody coming, Rebekah!” Klaus growled at his sister and he heard the sigh and muttered words as the blonde spun on her heels and walked away, back to the pit that Elijah had constructed in the middle of the courtyard.

The two took their time to arrive, the Mikaelsons already waiting there looking up—perhaps one or two glaring before a soft growl that held no wait averted their gaze. Klaus grinned as his daughter appeared at his side, and he let go of his wife in lieu of lifting the tribrid into his arms, holding her close as the fire picked up when Kol and Rebekah threw in their dual wishes, followed by Elijah and Bella.

“Daddy, it’s our turn,” little Kari whispered, glancing at him before her eyes drifted back to the fire, mouth open in awe as she trembled with excitement. Klaus held her steady, watching not the flames but her face as she threw in her two little pieces of paper (he chuckled when he glanced at the wish she’d written for herself).

Then it was his turn.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, reading the lines of wishes for every other being beside him. He stepped forward and threw it into the bonfire before stepping back, re-joining his wife.

“Only one piece of paper?” she whispered as she leaned her head onto his shoulder.

Klaus nodded, saying nothing as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. His eyes roamed the small gathering and then fell on his mate and daughter, his grin widening.

His wishes had come true.