(A/N) Warning! Toward the end of this chapter there are some heavy religious themes, if religion makes you uncomfortable I don't recommend you read it. I myself believe in God and these things were taught to me. So please respect it and don't make fun of it.
"The Mikaelson Compound," Stiles told Mikael as they sat in a cafe across the street from it,"Built in the late seventeen hundreds, wiped out by a hurricane about two decades later then rebuilt to withstand a hurricane. Then somebody burned it down in 1919. I think you know who that was," Stiles said, sipping from his coffee, wearing a baseball cap, while Mikael reluctantly wore a mardi gras tophat that Stiles made him wear.
"There's no one in the house," Mikael told him.
"I know. Isn't this the place where Niklaus killed you the second time? Any sense of dread or anxiety of seeing it?"
Mikael glared at Stiles.
"There we are," Stiles said, jerking his head across the street to a blonde woman who just walked past them on a sidewalk, she paused only for a moment, looking at the compound before continuing on her way.
"Freya," Mikael realized, about to stand up to go after her, but his muscles locked up, not allowing him to move.
"Wow, first time ever seeing my older sister. Kind of thought it would feel different."
"I must speak with her, please," Mikael said, staring at where Freya continued to walk.
"You're thinking with too much emotion. Relax. You'll talk to her soon enough."
"When?" Mikael demanded.
Stiles glared at him, and the muscles in Mikael's jaw sealed shut,"When I say so. That's when."
Mikael grunted a response.
Sending Mikael back to the truck, Stiles waited for night time before going out dressed in his suit.
He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, then he stopped outside a house, going onto the second story and he used his power to walk down the wall. Taking a knife he slid it under the lock of a window and slipped inside.
He was in a baby's room. A crib set up against the wall, a small shelf full of baby supplies against the opposite sides. And on the walls were paintings of wolves running through the forest.
On a small table there was a picture of Freya and a woman who Stiles assumed to be her wife standing next to each other, both of them smiling joyously as Freya held a baby that looked about ten months.
Going deeper into the house he scouted the place out, encountering several magical protections that he bypassed with mild difficulty. But no physical weapons, not that a first born witch would need them.
The front door lock turned, making Stiles look up, and when Freya and Keelin stepped inside, Nik in a stroller, Stiles was gone.
Going back to the truck, Stiles opened the back door, revealing Mikael and the casket that held Lucien,"C'mon. Reunion time."
Because Mikael wasn't invited in he just stood outside the house, and called out her name,"Freya!"
Stiles stood in the shadows, not yet to be seen by them.
Not even a minute later, Mikael fell to his knees, clutching his head in pain and Freya stepped out of the house, her hand extended toward the Original vampire,"If you think you can trick me by wearing my Father's face--"
"It wasn't too long before I thought the same thing of seeing you again," Mikael grunted, making Freya pause.
"Klaus killed you."
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Henrik Mikaelson. Always known as the child taken too soon. The One that motivated Esther to make vampires. His siblings were made immortal, but no one knew that he already was, but in a very different way. He's had many names in many lifetimes. But...