For all his centuries of life, he couldn't recall a single restful night.
This one was no exception to the rule as he'd only managed to close his eyes to a fistful semi-slumber. Actually, the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with him but he couldn't bring himself to lay down for half a second.
This peculiar morning, he'd followed Hope to the cemetery despite her claims that she wanted to be left alone.
He watched from afar as her father tried to reason with her.
He could feel the guilt oozing out of her in waves, surrounding her and threatening to crush her any moment.
He'd never really thought about the way Hope had triggered her curse -after all, he was no saint either- but watching her like this, her father desperately trying to plead with her while she shed tear after tear over the memorial to the innocent person she'd killed, he found that he had no idea how to feel at all.
For all his good intentions, this was a turn-tables he hadn't anticipated.
Too many emotions were swirling around in his mind; for the first time in... forever.
Guilt.
Pity.
He also knew shame when he saw it; centuries of mistreatment had made sure to carve their imprint in his poor soul.
Did he even have a soul?
The question came up often.
He had thoughts.
Ideas.
Mischief.
I think therefore I am. He remembered the day he'd acknowledged this thought aloud for the first time, pressed by some politician whose name he didn't even remember.
The everlasting question on the existence of his soul didn't matter anymore.
His soul didn't even matter anymore.
The only thing that mattered was Hope's soul -and her heart, always her heart.
If he'd been there just a second earlier, he could have done something.
To his mind, her father had been inconsiderate.
Klaus was a vampire, an Original for crying out loud, he should have realized that Declan wasn't the only wounded human roaming the church attic.
Then, he should have either saved that Bill man, or killed him himself. Ryan wouldn't have hesitated. Not for a second.
His glare burning a hole through the hybrid's skull, he barely noticed when he stepped out of his vicinity. He made to sidestep the tombstone he was huddled under, only to be stopped short by a mocking voice behind him.
''You seem to spend a lot of your free time in graveyards. Should I be concerned?''
''How is she?'' he ignored the cutting remark, but his question must have been thoughtful because Klaus drew a sigh.
The original took a step closer and they both peered at his daughter from behind the ominous crypt.
''Hard to tell. She feels... guilty, that much I'm certain of.''
''Guilty or not, she'll have to go through the turn.''
''The next full moon is in a week. That gives her little time to prepare.''
''How can anyone prepare for that?'' Ryan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose exasperatedly, ''She doesn't deserve this.''
''How much do you know about the werewolf curse?'' Klaus asked after a moment.
''The fundamentals. You take a life and are punished with every bone in your body breaking over and over. Every month for the rest of her life.'' he shrugged, realization dawning on him. He'd turned it over in his head all night. Hope hadn't turned in Malivore, not once. But if his only guarantee was... that, he'd rather she turned into a wolf every full moon than into the bitter woman he'd met in the twenty-thirties.
Klaus' voice broke him from his contemplation. He was very gentle for an all powerful hybrid, for the first time ever.
''Well, it is true that the pain is something, but have you ever wondered why I spent a thousand years trying to break the curse that had been placed upon me?''
He took a moment to ponder over his words. He'd heard the stories; the lonely hybrid who'd been stripped from a part of who he was. Cursed. An affliction. Broken somewhere between 2009 and 2011, if he recalled correctly.
He hadn't given it much thought until Hope had nearly suffered this same predicament.
''Stories say you wanted more of you around,'' he finally replied, stone-faced, ''Wonder why.''
''Do you see any other hybrids around?'' The hybrid raised a brow, joining his hands behind his back in what he recognized as momentary lucidity. Something he wouldn't see often, as it were.
He turned to him this once. ''Then why did you do it?''
''Because it was torture. For a millennia, I was pried of a part of myself, and by the man who I thought was my father nonetheless; the man who'd taken everything from me. And then he took away my birth right; the only thing I had left of my real father.''
''Why do you still call him that then?'' he frowned, frustration taking over his usually schooled features. He'd taken years to master a casual apathy to all things, broken by nothing but this entire family.
''And there I was, wondering the same thing about you.'' He made a face which had Klaus chuckle, ''Hope can't keep her mouth shut about you. First loves, that's rich.''
Together, they turned to the girl standing alone in the middle of the cemetery, surrounded by dying flowers and the souls of a thousand losses. She was crying again and couldn't tear her eyes from the memorial.
''I hope your realize how much happiness you've brought her these past few weeks.''
''Is that a compliment?''
''Not at all,'' the hybrid snickered, ''It merely means that if you hurt her, I will personally enjoy ripping out your throat. Or perhaps your intestines? They always did send a more direct message.''
Ryan didn't bother to answer. He could only stare at Hope, a profound sadness in his eyes. Her father seemed to notice too.
''I didn't have much luck in comforting her. Perhaps you'll be of greater assistance.''
He started to walk away, but stopped abruptly beside a tomb, as if the effort was painful. He made to turn and Ryan held his stare for a moment.
''It might be a curse, Ryan, but after the first transformation -after the pain is gone- there's nothing but freedom.'' with that said, he sped away from the cemetery before the golem could say anything else.
Finding himself alone and grateful for the privacy Klaus allowed him for the first time, he sighed and ran an unsteady hand through his hair.
He could do this.
He had to do this.
Walking into the sunlight, he left he tombs behind him, stopping behind Hope.
''Hey,'' he said quietly, peering over her shoulder.
The memorial was still intact and looked as flourishing as ever, but what had his blood run cold was the dark veins standing out under her own pale skin.
Starting at her elbows only the day before, they had spread to her neck within the night, tarnishing the skin with willowy lines fading just beneath the end of her pony tail.
Killing the vampires in the church hadn't been enough, he should have known.
''Hey,'' Hope replied, turning just in time to wipe her tears off her face, ''The um- Declan came this morning. He's okay. I think.''
''How are you?''
''I just- I killed someone.'' she swallowed the rising lump in her throat. How long had she been standing there? How long until this feeling went away?
''It was an accident.''
''It doesn't matter how you say it. I killed him.''
''I know.'' reaching for her arm, he inspected the bulging veins along her skin and sighed. Lowering his lips to her inner wrist, he left a delicate kiss there and rose to find her staring at him.
''I wish mom were here.''
''I know you do.'' he dropped her wrist and stood behind her to wrap his arms around her quivering frame. She was cold as death.
She sighed but held onto his arms, securing them around her stomach, as if he were the only thing that held her together. She wondered, when he inevitably let go, which part of her would crumble first?
''I can't believe I have to do this without her.''
He kissed her temple to remind her that he was still here, although he knew the comfort would only last so long.
He'd never had a parent who cared for him, but he could understand her pain.
''Ryan?''
He hummed in response, leaving a trail of soft kisses from her cheek to her ear. And the fact that he had no idea how much that simple act brought her so much peace... She couldn't bear to let herself sink in this feeling, because otherwise, she knew that he'd success in taking the guilt away.
With his perfect eyes and his perfect mouth, he could make her feel better than anyone ever had.
She'd never known it was even possible outside of Always and Forever.
All those thoughts swirled around in her mind and she murmured her request.
''Are you sure?'' he still asked, releasing his hold slowly.
''Yes, please.''
He obliged and left her alone, slowly creeping out of the cemetery. He wanted to risk a glance back but knew that he wouldn't be able to stay true to his word if he did.
He just hoped that he wasn't too far into this.
⚘
The compound sank in an even bleaker mood than usual.
The atmosphere had shifted upon the news of Hope's first kill and the few inhabitants of the mansion had become frantic.
Ryan met up with Freya the second he stepped in, as if she'd been waiting for him all along. She looked pensive too, but her head sprang up when the door closed, bursting her bubble.
''Freya? Why are you cryin-''
''Be my best man.'' she cut him off, her voice confident although the remainders of tears on her cheeks were evident. He realized they were the result of mostly joy, but also a lingering bitter feeling he dared not name. ''Sorry. Do you want to be my best man?'' she tried again, dropping her arms to her sides.
''Uh, there's a wedding?''
''Keelin said yes.'' she smiled then, as if she no longer had to carry the burden that came with her name. He would never put it past her. Too many centuries looking for that blasted family to dissociate herself from the name.
He took a breath and blinked several times. Was this... good news? ''Woah, congratulations! When's the wedding?''
''Today. That's why I'm asking you.''
''Okay, that's fast... but I guess when you've been dating for seven years...''
''Ryan, I need an answer, please.''
''Yeah. Yeah, sure. I'd love to be your best man.''
He'd seen many-a-thing with all this frustrating experience, but the breath was still knocked out of his lungs when she leaped and landed in his arms, burying her face in his neck and squeezing him with a strength he'd only ever seen in trolls.
Her body trembled with silent sobs as he held her tight.
''Asked him yet?'' A woman cut in from the doorway, stepping into the light. He recognized her as the one Freya had kissed at Hayley's funeral, her now-fiancée, Keelin Malraux.
''He said yes!'' The witch broke apart to clasp her wife-to-be's hand in her own.
''I'm Keelin,'' she held out a hand. ''We were going to ask Vincent but he couldn't come.''
''So I'm the rebound,'' he laughed, ''I don't mind at all.''
''You're not a rebound. You're my friend.'' Freya sighed, swallowing back tears of joy again.
''And you were invited either way. So wipe that pout off your face, young man. Today's a happy day.''
''The happiest.'' Freya grinned at her fiancée.
Ryan could feel the love between them, so much that it warmed his own heart, long-worn out by the ages. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been to a wedding.
''You're going to have to wear a tux though. Or at least a dark suit.''
Ryan laughed to a joke he seemed to be the only one to pick up on.
''Just pick one of Elijah's. I'll use magic to make it fit.'' Freya laughed again, a carefree expression on her face that had him blink again. He didn't recall a time he'd ever seen her so happy, although he had yet to get to know her more.
''I'll go and try on a dress that doesn't make me look like a disco ball,'' she said, ''You find that tux, and it better be dazzling. Hope's dress is the prettiest.''
''They'll have to match.'' Keelin agreed as she and her fiancée walked away, ''Otherwise, how will we be able to tell they're together?''
''Oh, trust me, you'll know.''
Ryan waited until their voices died down to grin.
Freya was getting married.
Finally, something good was coming out of all this, of this family.
''There he is! Hope's suitor. I swear she's swooning for you, mate.''
''Well he's far better looking than the last one at least.''
This was becoming a habit, disturbing his rare moments of solace. Nevertheless, a man strolled in, all good-looks, calculated demeanor, devilishly handsome and devastatingly aware of it, followed by a tall blonde that breathed elegance and glamor. Her heeled boots stopped beside him and he felt scrutinized from head to toe, even as they kept their eyes to his face.
Although he'd never spoken to them, he recognized them instantly.
Kol and Rebekah Mikaelson.
''Hello there. Rebekah Mikaelson. It's Ryan, isn't it?'' she shook his hand briefly, regarding him carefully. He didn't particularly like the look she gave him but he let it go, as he'd seen far worse things in that family.
''Kol,'' her brother shook his hand too, his grip tightening to the point he heard a light crack. Even when he released it, he still wore that infuriating smirk.
''So, I've got to help Freya with her dress,'' the younger -older?- version of Claudia Schiffer announced, ''I hope to see you at the wedding.''
''You will.'' he said as Rebekah walked away. He stood in the hall alone with Kol, and even though he wasn't one to cower with adversity, he felt a chill run through his spine. He disguised it quickly.
''How do you like it here, Ry? Can I call you Ry? Ry it is.'' Kol took him by the shoulder, dragging him to the fountain in the middle of the unofficial sitting room.
Ryan held his gaze, dark eyes equally as narrowed and calculating.
It had taken him some time to digest the fact that Kol was the most reckless of the lot, before Klaus himself, but now that he knew how to proceed, he intended to stand his ground.
Two could play this game.
He was vaguely aware that he was speaking to an Original, even if he knew that Kol would never kill him permanently. Not for lack of trying though.
''Been okay so far.'' he finally answered, shrugging Kol's arm off his shoulders, but he didn't seem to mind.
The original's boyish grin widened into something more animalistic. ''About Hope-''
''For God's sake, leave the poor boy alone.'' Elijah cut in, strolling into the room with all the Mikaelson posh elegance he knew.
''I was just welcoming Ry into the fam, 'Lijah. No need to be so noble about it.''
Ryan said nothing, his attention distraught by a sight he'd longed for all day.
He looked up to find Hope entering the compound, another one of her aunts in tow. He could never catch up with all those names.
She looked the scene over, her eyes widening when they fell on him, surrounded by her uncles.
Mumbling an apology about a dress fitting, she quickly dragged him away and upstairs.
Once they reached her room, she plopped down on the bed and took her head in her hands.
''Sorry about that.''
''No problem. At least I get a glimpse of your family. Better than meeting them all at the wedding.'' he shrugged, walking over to her closet.
A dress hung from the mirror, which he had no doubt would be her outfit for the wedding. He had nothing against Freya but he hoped that she didn't mind Hope stealing the spotlight away from her on her big day.
''The covens released the Ancestral Well last night,'' she told him from her spot on the bed. She sounded worn out and it got him to wonder if she'd slept at all these past few days.
''I'm not sure what that means so I'm just going to go with 'Good for them'.''
''I'm sorry about Ivy. Did you know her well?'' came her next words, slightly hesitant as she caught his momentary pause.
Ryan wasn't often asked that question. He hadn't shed many tears over anyone either. It still caught him by surprise and he looked for an honest answer. Always honest with her.
He looked for the right words before he voiced his answer.
''I met her at your mom's funeral. Don't worry about me.'' he finally said. ''Never worry about me.''
Ivy had made the choice to let go.
She'd given up on life with such strength, such resolve...
She'd died instead of becoming a vampire.
She'd held onto her convictions to the end.
Made the choice to die as she lived and Ryan didn't think he'd ever respected anyone as much as he respected her.
He didn't think he'd ever be able to let himself die for something so noble.
''Vincent is devastated. I don't know if he'll come to the wedding.'' Hope's voice came back to him. He hadn't realized he was gripping the sleeve of the dress so ferociously. He released at once.
''I heard.''
''That's... also what I wanted to talk to you about.''
He whipped around, expecting to find her sitting on the bed, where he'd left her. He nearly startled when he found her right behind him, but she grinned and he wouldn't give her that satisfaction. In that moment, she resembled the woman who'd dragged him to the pit with her.
''About Vincent?'' he asked, gaze set on her face with a cold second nature.
She shook her head. ''About the wedding,'' he waited as she wrung her fingers, twisting and playing with them to continue. She glanced up after a while, cheekbones reddening at the edges and released in a single breath: ''Would you like to come with me? To the wedding. As my date, I mean.'' she clarified, worrying on her lip.
Ryan watched her for a long moment, a grin plastered on his face. She hadn't really spoken to him, rather to the wardrobe behind him, but her flustered cheeks were all the same. He still noted they were rather pink than red now, and he hoped she was getting comfortable with him at last.
''Is there going to be champagne?''
''Loads.''
''Mmh. I'm in.'' he bent down to peck her lips gently, act that she reciprocated eagerly. ''Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to rob your uncle of a tux.''
Hope laughed and watched him leave, holding her breath when he stopped at the door. He cast a look at the veins on her neck -they didn't seem to be going away anytime soon.
Glancing at the dress on the mirror, he raised a brow.
''Aunt Rebekah chose it.'' she blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
''Your aunt has great taste. Try not to make me look like a gnome.''
''I'll try.'' she snickered, making him scoff. It was refreshing to see her like this -only he had no idea how long it would last. He didn't even want to think about it.
''See you at the wedding.''
''Yeah.''
⚘
Ryan's fingers kept wandering.
They tugged on the collar of his shirt again, nudging the itching fabric away from his skin. Freya hadn't been kidding about the fitness of that outfit.
He had to admit that, struggle aside, the venue was beautiful.
The freshly cut blades of grass shone a bright green that framed the intricate flower halo that hung over their heads in long branches. The few birds hummed along the passing wind. The flowers were in full bloom at this time of year.
The wedding had been kept small -the Mikaelsons' own very definition of the word- and so few guests were in attendance. Hope's aunts and uncles, along with her father. The crowds were gathered in complete opposite to Hayley's funeral.
Hope's hold on his hand tightened as the ceremony began and they all proceeded quietly to their assigned spots.
Freya and Keelin had decided on their very own traditions and although things had been kept simple, they wanted this day to be special. Understandable -necessary, given the recent events.
The young almost-tribrid let go of his hand at last and he joined his fingers together as the violins continued playing, only to welcome Freya into the venue.
Her dress and smile were equally as beautiful and even both her brothers didn't seem as brooding as they usually were as they escorted her to her bride.
Then, Elijah and Klaus both pressed a kiss to her cheek and let her be, taking their assigned spots amongst the Mikaelson family.
The ceremony could start.
''Dearly beloved, now, not to make this all about me but we know how families work. Sometimes it's dinner and sometimes it's daggers,'' Kol began his speech, looking pointedly at Klaus. And to say that man was to officiate the ceremony... ''Now I don't know why it takes something as special as this to wake us up, to make us aware of the beauty in the moment.''
Ryan glanced at Hope, only to find her eyes already glued to him. She grinned and he sent a smile back. What was going on through that mind of hers?
''I'm grateful for today. And I'm grateful for all of you,'' the original continued, ''Keelin, when I first met you, I would have never predicted that you would become my sister. Yet, here we are. Munchkin, the rings, please.''
Hope obliged and passed the weddings bands to her uncle. They all watched as they said their vows and exchanged the rings, passing their bouquets to the younger girl.
Freya was the first to share her love.
''It took me a thousand years of suffering to finally know such love. I will forever be grateful for it, for you. Keelin, from this day forward, I promise to be your friend, your lover, your wife. I promise to love you until I take my last breath on this earth. And if there is an after, I'll love you there too. With this ring, I thee wed.''
She slipped the ring around her fiancée's finger, making her a Mikaelson.
An arm snaked around Ryan's and held him tight. Glancing down, he pressed a kiss to Hope's hair as she leaned against his shoulder, watching the scene of pure love unfolding between her aunts.
''Now, by the power vested in me by a Franciscan monk in the 13th century... and by the internet a few hours ago, just to be on the safe side, I now pronounce you married! You may both kiss the bride.''
Cheering and clapping welcomed the kiss that sealed their fates forever.
''Tomar lento. Namaz amor.'' Hope whispered and the trickling branches overhead sprouted into blossoming flowers that stretched into butterflies.
They took off toward the high sky and Hope hid her blossoming grin in Ryan's shoulder. He froze.
Papilio Lux.
It's a comfort spell.
It's supposed to provide peace of mind.
''Thank you.'' he murmured in her ear, laying a tender kiss on her hand.
''For what?''
''Everything.''
⚘
Ryan could attest that the dinner had been nothing short of a complete success.
Hope had passed him dish after dish and laughed as the contents of his plate seemed to disappear at lightning speed. She'd used her own fork to feed him some from her plate as well and he'd gladly obliged. He'd told her a joke. He didn't remember which, but the smile on her face was all that had mattered then.
Toward the end of supper, after numerous spoonful of anything and everything he could find, Klaus had made a speech.
He was still dying to know what was happening to Hope, and more importantly, what plans her father had come up on how to fix her, but he'd convinced himself that he could indulge for a day.
Today was a happy day.
More importantly, Hope was happy, and he would keep her that way for as long as he could.
Ryan sighed as he watched her spin in Keelin's arms, a glass of champagne secured in her hands as her aunt twirled her along the soft tempo carried by the breeze.
He was content to just watch her have fun but it wasn't long before she separated from her aunt and came to sweep him off his feet.
''Want to dance?'' she swayed, taking his hand in hers before he could even say anything.
''How many drinks have you had? Hold on, I don't want to know. That way, when your father asks, I can feign innocence.'' he said, laughing as she brought him to his feet.
She shrugged and downed the last of her champagne before setting the flute down on the table. She dragged him to the dance floor and he followed reluctantly, aware that all eyes were on them.
Kol and his wife were already dancing, as well as Keelin and Freya, swinging to the beat of the hired musicians.
Klaus shared a few quiet words in a corner with Rebekah while both Elijah and Marcel stood alone, each regarding the scene carefully from their opposite ends.
None of them made to stop Hope when she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, encouraging him to plant his hands on her waist.
They started to dance together, moving in sync to the music, breaths mingling in the coldness of this starry night. They were so close that he could feel her heartbeat against his own chest, but more importantly, he could make out the dark veins distinctly.
''You're so tall,'' she murmured against his lips, tearing his eyes from the bulging grey wounds, ''And handsome and kind. And so patient. How do you put up with my family?''
''I basically get death threats all day, everyday, I'm used to it by now.'' he whispered back, shuddering in her embrace as she ran her hands across his shoulders. Suddenly, he spun her around and twirled her and she laughed, landing back in his arms with a slight sway.
''Whoa, whoa.''
''Is she all right?'' Klaus immediately rushed to their side, as well as the rest of the family, an air of worry unlike anything Ryan had seen before.
''I'm fine. I'm fine.'' Hope laughed, turning over in the golem's arms to face her family.
''We're just dancing.'' he said, with a slight smile, his eyes calculating as he turned to the hybrid. Call it instinct or years of working for a shady government institution, but when their eyes met, he instantly knew something was wrong.
''Yeah, my medical diagnosis is too much champagne.'' Keelin joked as she stepped back and took a long look at her niece.
''Oh! Speaking of, I'd like to make a toast,'' Hope started, grabbing another flute from a nearby tray before Ryan could stop her. She looked so happy he couldn't deter her if he tried. ''This has been the best day ever. And you know what? You guys got a thousand years of moments like this one. And... being a part of this one really made me feel like I'm part of always and forever too. So... cheers.''
The gathering drank to that as more cheers and merry laughter filled the venue. They were all laughing. Except Klaus and his sister Rebekah who looked too far out of reach to anyone at the moment.
Deciding it was all enough, Ryan took the flute from Hope's hands.
''Hey!''
''I think you've had enough.''
She whined heartily but laughed again as she resumed dancing with him.
He tried to summon as honest a smile as he could, casting a discreet glance over her shoulder. He couldn't interpret the look in Klaus' eyes but he knew that he didn't like it one bit.
''I think your father wants to dance with you.''
''But I want to dance with you.''
''The night is still young. I don't mind him stealing you away for a moment.''
She nodded slowly as he untangled her arms from around his neck. He let her walk to her father and bring him along to the dance floor, releasing a sigh of his own.
Once the procession resumed, he sank into a chair and loosened his tie, grabbing a nearby flute and downing its contents without a second thought.
Hope looked so pretty tonight. So happy. She was too pretty for her own good. Too kind. Too patient. Too young.
For a second, he found himself entertaining the possibility that she might succumb to the evil brewing inside of her. She was a Mikaelson, but she couldn't resist it forever. Some day, very soon if the bulging dark veins were any indication, she would die. But even the most mischievous part of him didn't find a shred of joy at that predicament anymore.
She would not die. He wouldn't allow it.
But he didn't just want her not to die.
He wanted her to live.
To survive this; to survive it all. To outlive any and every person here, if it meant thriving as the person she was rather than the person she would become.
How would she become that person?
She looked so full of life. Dancing with her father, all smiles and innocent wits, charming the Klaus Mikaelson into clumsy twirls, and he sat in a chair, wondering how exactly it would all change. He almost got there, his thoughts running ten miles an hour, just teetering over the edge of that precipice -it was right there, that blasted answer; right under his nose.
His eyes widened slightly at the approaching conclusion. All he had to do was-
''I know Klaus probably made himself clear, but just in case, you hurt her, you're dead.'' a voice suddenly stomped on his thoughts, smacking him back into reality. The vampire he recognized as Marcel Gerard, The Former King of the City, or simply Uncle Marcel, took a seat beside him, uninvited, as was custom in the Mikaelson Household.
''They've all made that pretty clear. Klaus, Kol, even Rebekah, in her own, disturbingly collected way.'' he sighed, turning to the vampire, all previous distractions forgotten for now. The last time he'd seen Marcel, his physical body had been sprawled on a church's floor, answering for his sins, while his mind lay in a Chambre de Chasse.
''Some might say she's the worst.''
''Do you speak from experience?''
''Two centuries of experience, yeah.'' Marcel looked across the venue, where Rebekah danced with Freya and Keelin. It didn't take a genius to realize their relationship ran deeper than what met the eye.
It was then that he truly realized how far into this he really was. The laughters, the delight, the wedding...
Ryan was standing at the core of the Mikaelson's intimacy.
This was peak arrogance.
This was everything those who despised, feared or even worshipped the originals could ever hope for.
It was a hard thing to put up with -the hardest if he were honest with himself.
His eyes found Hope and her father again as Klaus spun her in his arms. She laughed, the sound echoing in his mind, as loud as if they'd been in Malivore.
This once, however, he held the knowledge that whatever she'd done to him was not the result of a mimic spell.
⚘
The wedding ended on a delightful note, probably the last moment of happiness the Mikaelsons would get for months.
The more time he spent with them, the more he realized that they had a lot in common. He didn't know whether he should cry or laugh but he too had spent his entire life trying to either run or seek approval from a terrible father. He'd also never held many ties with the people around him, but he'd had his fair share of stories.
However, the one thing he found divergent was the most important.
Family.
He'd never had one.
Standing then, in the compound of such a full and tight-knit family only served as a reminder that in the end he was truly and utterly alone. He was nothing but a trespasser here, but the sight of Hope's smile had him weak in the knees. He couldn't help his heart anymore than he could stop being a son of Malivore.
He held the conviction that not even Freya's plan or all the magic in the would could not change that. He'd been left with too much damage.
Right here, right now, there was no damage. Nothing but happiness.
Glancing down at various frames, he grinned, catching sight of a freckle-cheeked Hope when she was younger. Picking up the frame, he let his eyes travel to the woman beside the toothy grin and let the sides of his mouth quirk downward.
Hayley should have been there, enjoying Freya and Keelin's wedding champagne; not him.
She should also be there at Hope's wedding, which would be with Landon -at least, that's what he'd have said had he been asked.
If the most perspicacious of fortune tellers had told him that he would one day be comforting Hope Mikaelson with featherlight kisses and more passion than he'd ever experienced, he would have made a point of shoving them in the pit himself.
But he wasn't that man anymore.
No, she'd managed to crawl her way into the layers of mud surrounding his heart and change everything.
He saw the world as good as new, although he'd always seen it the same way for centuries; a wretched and unsafe place, in which the strongest was not always, if ever, the hero.
The heroes -whenever he'd encountered those stupid enough to answer to this title- inevitably died at the end. This was the truth he'd always clung onto.
Hope had proved him wrong once already, and she could do it again. She had to.
''That farmhouse was a lovely place. Hope liked it a lot.'' A voice he'd almost grown to like startled him. For a moment, a horrendous split second, he feared he'd overstepped a boundary and would therefore pay the consequences, but the more practical part of him, the one that rationalized that as long as he could hear a voice he was anywhere but the pit, let that dread turn into relief. So terrifying was the prospect of Malivore.
But what did it really matter?
In the end, he knew he would face it all again if she asked.
He still put the frame down as carefully as he could as the original hybrid walked forward, intimidating steps faltering just so.
Ryan was still wary though, for good measure only -they were standing on the second floor, and all it would take was one carefully placed push from Klaus and he would be out long enough for his body to be shipped to the other end of the world.
''How is she?'' he finally asked, standing his ground as best he could. It wasn't particularly hard this once, as he'd never seen Klaus so worn out before -he didn't even think such thing was possible. When he became tired of awaiting an answer, he continued. ''She's not getting better is she?''
''No, she isn't,'' Klaus confirmed his suspicions. His voice was so desperate that even Ryan himself didn't know what to do. ''I just- I don't know what to do.''
''How long does she have?''
''It's hard to tell. But soon that magic will consume her. I-I can't-'' the father broke off, the last bits of his confident stance leaving him.
Ryan didn't even need him to finish, he knew exactly what he meant. For the first time in centuries of existence, their intentions were aligned.
I can't lose her.
''And what does she think about it?'' he sighed, running a hand through his unkept hair. He couldn't accept the idea of death after centuries of living; he couldn't begin to imagine how a fifteen year old felt. Terrified? Exhausted? Completely numb?
Sapphire eyes set on the tiles beneath their feet and dark orbs narrowed.
It took him a long moment to read him properly because as far as he knew, Klaus Mikaelson knew nothing of the atrocious feeling that was shame.
He picked up on it with rising anger. ''Please tell me you told her-''
''I didn't. And neither will you.'' The hybrid finally deadpanned, as cold a demeanor as ever, with a newfound strength and a glimmer in his eyes that would have sent the most trained Triad operatives running.
He stood his ground. He would stand his ground to the end for her. This was part of the reason why she had a right to know.
''I can't keep this from her. It's her life on the line, she should know.''
He crossed his arms and breathed in through his nostrils. He didn't even bat an eyelash, but the tension was thick and his desperation could be heard from miles. He hated feeling so helpless.
He wasn't stupid enough to think he'd found his match, but Klaus was not one to give up either. ''And with this dark magic swirling inside her, threatening to burst at any moment, you really think telling her about this is any good?''
He remained quiet for a while.
Could he really keep this from Hope? For her own good? This seemed as heroic as it was hypocritical. He didn't do either.
Betraying her though?
You've done it so many times.
Enough times.
You're betraying her right now.
He forced his inner voice to the back of his mind -he hated being reminded of what he'd done and kept on doing everyday when he looked at her, when she brushed her fingers against his hand, when she rested her head atop his chest, when-
But from the moment he'd seen this Hope, it was as if, for once, everything had made sense.
''She's asking for you. I trust you'll make the right decision.'' Klaus finally left the choice to him. That bastard, he knew he had him right where he wanted.
Ryan watched him walk away before he turned abruptly.
Maybe it helped him ease the burden from his own shoulders but either way, Klaus would never find peace until his daughter was safe and sound. His next words were only colored by that desperation, Ryan was sure of it.
''Thank you. For what you did today. She was happy.''
He didn't need to be told twice. But he hadn't done it for Klaus. For anyone else. He was selfish to the core. ''All I want is for her to be happy.''
Klaus stared right back at the golem, trough the mud and into his soul, if he even had one. Something he couldn't name flashed through his eyes.
Freya had seen it; how could he have been so blind?
Ryan disappeared around the corner without another word.
Klaus remained behind, in the aftermath of all she'd left. She'd always known how to handle everything. He picked up the frame, his fingers skimming over her face. Delicate features despite her lack of manners and constant rogue frown; he'd known it even then.
To the darkness of the night and with none the wiser, he whispered.
''I wish you were here, Little Wolf.''
⚘
Ryan didn't recall a time he'd held his breath so long.
He could still hear the delicate flutter between one heartbeat and the next as he knocked softly, and worried with anticipation. She had a way of turning him into a big ball of nerves unlike anything he had ever known.
When no answer came, he sighed, thinking that she might have fallen asleep. He made a move to leave but stopped short when he heard shuffling on the other side. Then, a faint voice asked him in.
''Hey,'' she greeted, a grin plastered on her face as he shut the door behind him.
She'd changed into her pajamas and sat on the bed, looking more tired than she had all day.
''I just talked with Klaus.'' he sat down beside her, the soft duvet dipping under his weight.
''About what?'' she smiled again and reached for his hand. Holding it in her own, she played with his fingers gingerly but her eyes never strayed from his.
''About today.'' he lied, clenching his fist. This was hurting him. Lying was hurting him. Him. Who would have thought?
''Today was so great.'' Hope bit her lip and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
''Yeah. It was nice.'' Seeing you happy... He looked away, unable to trust himself with the news he carried. He knew that he would eventually break anyway, but for the moment, he just wanted to let her savor her day. Glancing at her pillow, he nearly released a nervous laughed. Something that resembled a piece of pink fabric was poking from underneath and he reached for it.
''So, I met a lot of your family today, yet you still haven't introduced me to this one.'' he said, taking the pink bunny in his hands.
Hope's eyes widened and she took it back quickly.
''What's his name?'' he still asked, a laugh bubbling from his chest.
''Paul.'' she said after a moment. She let go of his hand and sighed. She could tell Ryan was still full of suspicions. ''Promise me you won't mock me.''
''Can't do that, sorry.''
She hit his arm playfully, causing him to snicker.
''It's Mr. Honeybunny.'' she finally said, releasing another sigh and a small smile. ''I suck so bad.'' she whispered to herself.
''I think he's cute.'' he said.
''You know, a lot of people say we look alike.'' with a newfound confidence, she tucked the bunny under her chin and spread its arms.
''I don't see it.''
She nudged him again but he stayed her hands and she dropped the bunny. He ran his thumbs over her skin, leaving a burning trail of heat everywhere he touched. While he was staring at her with profound sadness in his eyes, her attention was only focused on his strokes. He looked so serious that she felt the urge to giggle but it was cut off by a rather long yawn.
''You should get some sleep.'' he chuckled, letting go of her hands. He stood up but she stopped him and, with her new werewolf strength, sat him back down.
''Can you stay?'' she asked, something close to desperation in her voice, ''Please.''
He could tell that she was tired, and he wouldn't have minded being her life-size comfort pillow, but there was something far deeper in those eyes of hers. Something that both chilled him to the bone and filled him with a warmth he never thought possible.
It was different from all the times she'd asked him to stay by her side as she fell asleep, he could tell. He wouldn't name it just yet.
But when she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his, all doubts left him.
Just as always, the kiss was sweet -until it wasn't.
He was content with the way things had been, for as far as he was concerned he'd never felt such a deep level of intimacy. This was beyond physical attraction, this was beyond anything he'd ever known. This was enough to turn the mire he was made of into golden ambrosia.
He was a golem.
She was a witch-werewolf hybrid; someday vampire. A tribrid.
The only tribrid.
She was the most dangerous creature on earth, and he was utterly helpless in her grasp.
And as she set a feverish pace that held more fondness than he'd ever thought possible, he found himself kissing her back -of course he kissed her back.
He kissed her with everything that he had and she took it gingerly, opening her lips to deepen their connection in the way she'd always dreamed of.
She wanted more. He needed more. They both deserved more.
Out of pure instinct, she wrapped her arms around his neck and tipped back against the mattress, pulling him down with her.
He lay on top of her and held onto her thigh as she slid one leg up his side. How could she even know all this?
He felt as much as heard her moan, and he pressed against her, kissing her as hard as he'd ever dared before.
This was bliss. It could never get any better than this.
Her hand ran along his cheek and down his neck, caressing the flushed flesh slowly until she neared the top button of his shirt.
He'd never let things get so far out of hand before, but Hope was beautiful and sweet and so unbearably lovable that he couldn't-
Wait.
Lovable?
Did he-?
Was she-?
Just as she pulled on the button, he pulled back.
She whimpered and frowned at the loss of contact, searching for his lips again.
''You're drunk, Hope.'' he panted, out of breath, his face as flushed as hers as he hovered above her blown blue eyes. They knocked the breath out of his lungs. So beautiful.
''I know what I want.'' she shook her head, frowning further as he sat up.
''No, you don't. That's the champagne talking. And even if— you're fifteen,'' he said desperately, raking a hand through the curls she'd so perfectly messed up. Common sense, Ry, it's always been common sense. ''Even if I really like you, I can't-''
''You like me?''
As soon as he said the words, her frown was immediately replaced by a wide grin.
''I thought I made that pretty clear already.'' he grinned back faintly. He reached out after a brief moment and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. He sighed and pressed a longing kiss to her forehead. Standing up to leave unceremoniously, he was tempted to run or throw himself out the window when she stopped him again, making him groan inwardly.
''Hope-''
''Wait. Please, don't leave me. I'll—I won't try anything, I promise,'' she said desperately, ''Just, please, hold me.''
The desperation in her voice was so thick that, against all odds and the tee-tiny bit of morality he had left, he nodded.
Fully clothed, except for his shoes, he climbed into bed beside her and she crawled to the side, giving him space to settle under the covers.
Although they'd shared a bed before, he didn't think he would ever get used to it -to having her so close and vulnerable. Hope Mikaelson was a heavy sleeper. He found delight in being the only boy who knew that fact.
She put her head on his chest, just above his heart and smiled contentedly. Hesitantly, he lifted his hand and began carding his fingers through her hair, just as he'd done the past weeks.
She sighed and looked up, long enough to press a quick kiss to his lips.
''Goodnight, Ryan.''
She felt as much as heard him answer and drew a breath, the sound of his hammering heart lulling her to slumber.
Her last slumber.