Hilda was most certainly not dressed for a date.
Alaric had given her his jacket to wear over her workout clothes. It was warm and comfortable, but it did not go that well with the green leggings she had chosen.
He drove them to a nearby shopping center where there was 'a very nice Italian restaurant you need to try.'
She giggled when he said it. "Sure, alright." She refrained from mentioning that she had been all over Italy in the past and knew about the most authentic types of food.
The place had been filled with people when they arrived. She noticed he tensed, but it was clear that her advice had stuck in his head. He looked around, then closed his eyes, and he didn't flinch when a waitress walked up.
"Table for two?" she asked. She must have been around nineteen. Hilda could hear a very steady heartbeat, and with the bandaid on her finger, it seemed she had recently gotten a papercut of sorts. Alaric could clearly smell the lingering blood, but he looked into the girl's eyes and smiled cordially. "Yes, please."
The waitress walked off, and they followed. "Good," said Hilda proudly. "That was a very good start." She pursed her lips and whispered, "Another thing you can always do if you think you have the strength to do it, is first aid. Concentrate on healing. After all, our blood can heal. I always try to do first aid when there's too much blood. As you know, I don't feed my blood to anyone, ever, but you can choose that as an alternative, no matter who it is. You can overcome that hunger with worry once again and use the blood to fuel you to use yours for good. Only if you want, obviously."
Once they sat down and were able to order their drinks, Alaric leaned forward across the booth. "When you say you've never fed anyone your blood... you mean never?"
She nodded. "Never. I didn't like the idea of condemning someone to the same fate as me. And most times, I was the one doing the injuring. Other times, well, I didn't care enough to try and heal anyone that way. I've known some very basic first aid and I use that especially when it's a bunch of innocent people and the damage was done by some other party. But I just... I don't know, the idea of sharing my blood and healing someone... no one's been important enough for me to do that."
"If I were human," he said, drumming his fingers against the table, "and I were about to die, but your blood could save me..."
"I'd give it to you without blinking," she answered immediately. "I just would. It's a risk and I know that but you've died already and there was nothing I could do. But if you ask if I'd do it for anyone else... your answer would be no. Another reason I'm a terrible bitch."
Alaric made a face. "That doesn't make you a bitch. You just prioritize different things. You keep trying to make me see you like some monster straight out of Greek mythology but I don't see you that way."
Hilda raised a curious brow. "What do you see me as?"
Alaric smiled and leaned a bit further forward. "If I were to see the goddess Aphrodite," he mumbled, "she would have your face and personality, exactly."
She felt a blush rising to her face, and she cleared her throat, sitting back as the waitress set down two glasses filled with wine. Hilda immediately took hers and drank. The waitress suspected nothing. "Are you all ready to order?" she asked sweetly.
They did, but Hilda stuttered quite a bit. When the waitress left, Alaric started to laugh. "When was the last time someone complimented you?"
"The— the personality bit," she stammered, trying to stop feeling so flustered. "I haven't had someone say something so positive about that in a really long time. I know I'm a pessimist, I know that I'm really hard to like because I'm always being negative and obnoxious."
"Are you kidding me? You could never annoy me. You make the best type of morbid jokes. And there's this fire about you. I like that. You're brilliant, hard-working, you don't take anyone's shit and you always fight. You're not someone who gives up, not even when faced with danger. And if someone takes you down, you don't just go with the flow, you go down fighting."
Hilda calmly moved the wine glasses to the side. Alaric seemed to think she wanted to arm wrestle or something, because he moved one hand up, but instead, she leaned over the table and grasped his shirt, pulling him in for a hard kiss.
His hand moved its way up to her cheek, cupping it as he kissed her back. They nearly knocked the wine glasses over, but Hilda could care less.
Their meal was enjoyable.
They hardly spoke after the kiss. They were both fairly red in the face and spoke only of the food, the things they liked about it, and how they could acquire more breadsticks and marinara sauce.
The drive back left Hilda eager to steer the conversation in another direction. She had wanted to kiss him. But she also knew that they were heading to his apartment, and she didn't want to lead him on thinking she was going to continue.
"So, how else can I help?" she asked, leaning back in the seat and trying to breathe as normally as possible. "You did really well on controlling yourself— there were a lot of people in there. We did the training... the advice for control... tomorrow, you said Matt is coming to meet us..."
Alaric seemed to understand that she was nervous, and he followed her lead without needing to be prompted. "Well, we do want to lower the spell that's keeping us out of Mystic Falls. We just don't know how. My research is getting cut short with having to teach. Stefan... well, he's trying to stay away and he's giving up on ever getting Damon back. Jeremy, Matt, and Elena aren't doing too well, either, and Caroline's been a big help with the research, but she hasn't found anything after months of searching. I was thinking, the brutal reality without having a witch is that none of us would even understand a hint if we found one. Caroline might have already read over the answer but how much can a vampire really understand about magic unless they've studied it for their entire life."
Hilda grinned. "I see where this is going. My expertise is coming in handy." She cracked her knuckles. "Let's see, there are many ways that spells can be taken down. One of the most common ways is to get a Coven of witches to counter it. Those types of spells are hard, and one witch would very rarely be able to do it alone. Not to downplay Bonnie's power— I know she's talented— but even if she was here, this isn't something she could do. Taking into consideration how powerful the Traveler spell is, you'd need either a really big and special Coven of witches, or a Coven that practices darker magic. Obviously, this is not going to be easy to do. No Coven will be willing to try it because that kind of spell could have terrible side effects. There are dark objects that can be used to suck the power, but I haven't got access to the ones Kol and I made. Either way, I don't know if they would work on a spell of that magnitude. There's transfer spells to transfer that spell somewhere else, but that doesn't really do anyone much good. There are illusion spells that can weaken the spell, but that's not making it a reality. The last option is something pretty rare— having someone siphon it."
Alaric frowned. "Siphon? What is that?"
"It's like sucking magic out. There are witches that are born without the ability to do magic on their own. Basically like... Squibs from Harry Potter, except they can do magic, they just need to first take that magic from another source. They need to make physical contact with either a magical being or a magical object and they need to pull that power out before they'd be able to do magic. Most siphoners never realize that they have that ability, because unless you lose your temper, no one knows that they have that ability. It's happened a few times over the centuries. I've met some siphoners from other Covens, but they're usually killed or hidden away or shunned because that type of ability is perceived as evil. I never quite understood that— it's not their fault. It's like any other genetic mutation. But since siphoning does hurt someone, it's made out to be a terrible thing. I don't even think there are siphoners left alive anymore. I'd need to search."
"But you did know some," Alaric said as he parked at his apartment complex. "How?"
"There is this Coven that seems to continuously be cursed with siphons. That's not the only place that it happens, but for some reason, the Gemini Coven always gets siphoners every once in a while. Like I said, most are eradicated in some way. I'll need to do some research but if there is a siphoner out there, and I find them, then that's our answer."
Alaric whistled in disbelief. "Wow. I never would have found that out if you didn't tell me. I've studied a lot about the Occult but I've never heard of siphoners."
"It's not a proud thing for a Coven to admit when they find out one of their members is a siphon. It's kept very hush hush. There are so many other things to talk about when it comes to magic, so why would they speak of something they found terrible?"
"That does make sense. I'm telling you, I need you to be a guest speaker for one of my lessons."
They reached the door and he unlocked it. "I haven't gotten the deed signed over to anyone, so you're free to come in," he told her, stepping aside to let her in.
She looked around at the way he had set it up. "I like it!" It was a studio apartment. There was a kitchen with an island that had the stove on top, as well as the sink. He had a television set and a couch on the other side of it, next to a little coffee table where he had several books set out. Of course, there was a massive bookshelf and some plants and paintings along the wall. One door indicated a bathroom, and aside from that, his closet had nothing to conceal it from view. She could see several shirts and jackets hung up, with pants folded on a rack beneath it, shoes lined up at the very bottom. His bed was at the center of a beige wall, with nightstands on either side that had some more papers and lamps on them.
"Sorry, I didn't expect you were going to come today," he told her, picking up some stuff that was on the floor. "I'll change the sheets so you can have the bed—"
"Nonsense, I can sleep on the couch," she said. "I don't mind. It's already so kind of you to let me stay at your place instead of by myself somewhere. Your couch looks comfortable."
"Hilda are you sure—?"
"Of course I'm sure. Besides, I wouldn't want to trouble you with having to make preparations for me. I bought some extra clothes for myself when I got my leggings today, so all I would even need is a towel."
"A towel?" he said, confused.
She laughed lightly and took off the jacket of his that she'd been wearing. "Yes, a towel. I want to shower and not put my stinky self on your couch."
"Oh, of course, I was distracted thinking about what blanket to give you and I for some reason thought you meant to use the towel as a blanket."
She raised her eyebrows. "I'm quite willing to try that."
"Don't be ridiculous, I have proper blankets and extra pillows for you."
She watched him move around trying to clear most of the surfaces they might need— like the kitchen counters— before bringing her a thick quilt, a blanket, and a towel. "Let me show you how to use the water," he told her, beckoning for her to follow him into the bathroom.
Of course, before he let her step inside, he quickly shoved several things into the drawers. He rummaged for a bit under the bathroom sink and pulled out some shampoo bottles. "I know this is probably not what you'd usually like to use for your hair, but—"
"Alaric, don't worry," she said as he let her step inside. "It's okay. You're acting like the Queen of Scotland came to do a bloody house inspection."
Alaric smirked. "Well, I have a queen of sorts in here."
Hilda found herself blushing all over again as he drew back the curtains and showed her which knob was for hot water, and which one was for cold. "Need anything else?" he asked, fixing the mat at the bottom so she wouldn't slip.
"That's all," she said softly. "Thank you. I'll be out quickly, I promise."
She didn't take her time showering, as she usually did. Instead, she cleaned herself quickly and got out, drying herself off before getting dressed in the pajamas she had prepared for herself.
She came out to find Alaric was fixing the couch cushions to make it more like a bed. "You're pampering me too much," she teased as she set her clothes in the plastic bag she had.
"You deserve it," he said simply, before nodding to where he'd cleared the coffee table and set down several bottles of bourbon. "You can start drinking, if you want. I'm going to take a shower, too, but I'll be back soon."
He went in, and Hilda's phone chimed. She looked down to see Rebekah had sent a video of Hope. Hilda smiled and played it.
The little girl was wiggling facedown on a blanket on the floor, gurgling and trying to learn how to push herself up properly. "Yay!" came Rebekah's voice. "Show your Aunt Hilly how strong you are, that's it." Hope squealed and let herself roll onto her back, kicking her legs and giggling as Rebekah continued to record. "Say, 'Aunt Hilly, when are you going to bring your boyfriend to meet me?' Go on, Hope, I'm sure you can say it by now, knowing how often she talks to you as if you're all grown. You're still our little girl, though!"
The video ended, and Hilda sighed, replaying it just for fun. Hope was such a joy to have. Truly, she did make Hilda see the child population in a better light. Her niece reminded her so much of Henrik. Curious and sweet. Hilda had been young when he was born, but she could still remember how he would fall asleep in her arms and how she would walk around with him and Kol, the twins talking normally and letting Henrik listen.
Alaric came out and Hilda had to stop the video from playing a third time, texting Rebekah back and saying, 'He's not supposed to know, Bex' before shutting her phone off.
Hilda had forgotten, for an instant, that Alaric was an Original, too. She had been confused as to why he was looking at her phone, but then she realized that he had probably heard what Rebekah had been saying in the video.
He figured it out pretty quickly. "I'm not going to say anything to anyone," he told her reassuringly as he came to sit beside her. "I wondered... why you and Rebekah wouldn't be in New Orleans if they lost the baby, but I guess I had just convinced myself that you were grieving too, in your own way. This makes a lot more sense. This entire time, you've been protecting her."
She nodded slowly and opened her phone again to show him the pictures she had of Hope. "She's darling," she sighed, smiling fondly as she looked down. "I don't like children, but she's got a special place in my heart. I know why Bex wants to be human so bad, now. It does seem kind of nice to be able to raise a baby. She thinks it's strange for me to say it this way— but you really do get to customize your child if you have one. Dress them up and teach them important things and try to make them the best versions that you can. Teach them to be kind and strong..."
"You're a wonderful influence for her," he said very seriously. "I can't say I know your siblings as well as I know you, but... Hope is going to have one very badass aunt to look up to. Someone who will teach her all about protecting herself."
Hilda poured them drinks. "I like the idea of just being an aunt. If Rebekah has kids of her own later, somehow, I like the sound of that. Helping out but not having to constantly be around them. Do you want... kids?"
Alaric shrugged. "I mean, I was an only child and I got all this attention from my parents. I had a pretty good childhood, honestly, and it was kind of instilled that we're here in this world to procreate. Gotta love religious teachings... I think the idea of being a father is nice. I like the idea of having a family. Why is that you don't want kids?"
"When people ask me that, my automatic answer is that I find them annoying. They can be very strange... tiny humans without a fully developed brain. They're cute, but when they're someone else's. Honestly, though, I think I'm terrified I'm bringing them into a problem. This world is bloody terrible. Why would anyone want to bring a kid into it? Especially with my family, Hope will never be safe. She will be powerful and she will learn a lot, but to what expense? How many people will she see die? Will she watch Klaus mutilate someone? Will she have to see Elijah, Rebekah, and I kill for her to life in peace?
"Esther was alright when I was growing up, but Mikael was incredibly abusive. Mostly to Klaus, but he'd hit Kol and I, too. I told you about the nightmares I had of him. Not to mention that now, Esther wants to kill Hope from beyond the grave. Klaus speaks of breaking that cycle and that's all fine and dandy when you say it, but deep down, we're not the best people. I've been paranoid every day that I'll hurt Hope without realizing what I'm doing. I can't have children of my own, obviously, but if I were to adopt, would I just make them more miserable? Dragging them into Mikaelson drama? What if I'm a shitty mother? I don't want to hurt any child the way I was hurt. It's such a risk."
"You're not your parents," Alaric mumbled. "You are a separate person and from what it seems like, you could be a wonderful mother. All I'll say is this— don't do anything you're not comfortable with. Sure, it's good to try new things but what matters most is your mental health and if a kid won't help with that, then don't have one. That's your choice and your choice only."
Hilda leaned over and pressed her lips against his cheek. He turned toward her and caught her before she could pull away, kissing her on the lips again. She let out a soft moan as he pulled her onto his lap, gripping her hips and holding her close to him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing her tongue forward. He opened his mouth and she slipped it in, but his tongue had already been waiting to try and restrain hers.
She found she wasn't as nervous as before. She certainly trusted him. She felt him starting to grow aroused and her heart skipped a beat. He knew she'd noticed but he didn't speak on it, letting her make the decision. He didn't move his hands from her hips to not make her uncomfortable.
She pulled away and rested her forehead against his. "I want to," she said shakily. "B-But I'm still scared, Ric. I-I know you won't hurt me but..."
"It's okay," he told her gently. "No pressure."
"I feel bad..."
"Don't. I'm not angry, Hilda, I would never want you to feel pressured into doing anything you don't feel safe doing. We can just kiss if that's what you want, I don't mind. You can choose. I won't hold anything against you."
She let out a soft sigh. "If... if you're sure you're okay with just kissing... but if not, we should probably just go to sleep."
He smiled, and it put her at ease. "Yeah, I'm okay with just kissing."
She slept like a baby that night. He hadn't made her feel like she was obligated to give him anything. Though she knew (and could feel) he probably needed some type of relief, he didn't speak of it, worried only about whether she felt alright. He was satisfied with how she moved her lips over his neck. She didn't bite him, but he wouldn't have minded if she did. All that mattered to him was that she felt comfortable, and she had, indeed, felt safe in his hold.
She hadn't even ended up sleeping on the couch. He had picked her up and taken her to his bed and the two had fallen asleep, tangled together in a comfortable embrace. It had been a long time since Hilda slept next to someone, but it had been very soothing to feel his arms around her, rubbing her back gently to help her drift off.