𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, klaus mikaelson

[ CHAPTER NINE ]

Niklaus glare shifted from Kol's retreating figure before landing on Astrid, blue eyes softening at the frown on her face. "He was being kind." Astrid added.

"Kol's not kind to anyone unless there's something in it for him." Nik commented darkly, shaking his head.

Frowning, Astrid's hands fell by her side as she watched her feet. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" Nik snorted, clutching the basket tighter.

"It's not! He is my friend."

"Does he know that?"

Whirling towards her husband, Astrid's lips parted in surprise, her eyes narrowed as she reached out to grasp his arm, preventing him from walking any further. "He is my friend, Nik. You are my husband, you are supposed to trust me."

Struggling to meet her gaze, Nik frowned. "I do trust you. It's him I don't trust."

Knowing how stubborn her husband was, Astrid reached up, her soft fingers cupping Niklaus' cheek. "Then trust me. I love you."

His cold blue eyes seemed to melt away as he smiled. "I love you too."

"You know, I forgot to tell you how beautiful you look this morning." Niklaus continued, enjoying the small flush that rose to her cheeks.

Playing with the sleeves of her ivory gown, Astrid rolled her eyes. "I do not feel it, I feel giant."

Nik rolled his eyes at this, shaking his head as a hand landed on the evident swell of her stomach. "You look ravishing."

As his fingers gently stroked over her covered up stomach, Astrid let out a chuckle when a firm kick was landed on Nik's hand. "It seems someone agrees with me too." Niklaus bragged, making Astrid giggle.

"Yes, yes. Very good, now, we better hurry and get this bread to my mothers. You know how she gets."

With that, Astrid ushered Niklaus to continue walking, his free hand linking with hers, fingers intertwined lovingly, neither noticing the figure of a frowning Tatia Petrova stood by the old white oak tree.

...

Although surprised, Astrid allowed her mother to forcefully push her down into the chair, brows furrowed as she watched her mother in confusion. The basket of bread was left abandoned on the wooden table as Sigrid quickly sat opposite her daughter, clasping her hand tightly between hers.

Desperation swirled around in Sigrid's frightened blue iris', sharp nails digging into Astrid's palm. Her mother was usually so calm and collected, something had really alarmed her.

Since Tatia Petrova had stormed into her mother's house, Sigrid's strange mood had subsided, her mother had grown back into the cold and void woman she usually was.

But today, Astrid didn't recognize the woman sitting across from her.

Leaning forward to place a hand over her mother's, Astrid frowned. "Mother, something is wrong. Just tell me."

Sigrid swallowed, struggling to meet Astrid's eyes as she bowed her head. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry child."

"Sorry? Sorry for what mother?"

Her mother had done many things to her, she had punished her by making her clean the stables out in the middle of winter, she had been a mere girl at the time and had been caught playing with Sigrid's shield.

Astrid had to be taken to the Esther in the morning, who had expected the girl to die from pneumonia developed from the cold.

She could also recall the countless amount of times Sigrid had struck her, for talking back to her mother and for not doing what she had been told, Sigrid had not been afraid of discipline.