As far as Freya is concerned, there are only two important quests at hand - finding her family and finding a way to destroy Dahlia.
The latter should be simple enough, given enough time. The former, less so, as the Mikaelson family always seems to be moving, never hovering anywhere for too long, and always using different means to disguise their presence. The trio reported to be Klaus, Elijah and Rebekah weren't, possibly some vampires they compelled to believe they were, and she finds herself at a dead end, again. She needs a better tactic than constantly being a century behind. She needs to befriend someone who will always know where her siblings are, at all costs.
In many ways, that opportunity manages to fall right into her lap.
She hears the whispers about Katerina Petrova, a woman who has managed to anger her family for simply seeking to make her own choices and not be used as their pawn, and there's something in that that Freya can empathize with. While its true that she would be using her to get closer to the Mikaelsons, not further, she can't help but hope that maybe through enabling Katerina's own agency, she can possibly achieve some of her own. This is the kind of venture where she needs friends.
She just hopes that she can provide enough leverage that she can trust Katerina, and in turn, Katerina will trust her.
Finding the young vampire is as easy as a simply locator spell - unfortunately Klaus has caught wind of this and also has witches intent on doing the same. A vampire of ten years stands no chance against vampires pushing one hundred and she almost arrives too late, but not late enough. A murmured spell as she approaches causes her assailants to drop to their knees, blood pouring from their eyes as their brains melt within their heads, and when their screams of pain are bound to draw too much attention, she twists her wrists, snapping both their necks as they drop to the ground.
She pauses, only for a moment, to gather her skirts and step over the two bodies, before crouching down next to Katerina and offering her hand. "Are you alright?"
Katherine balls her hands into tight fists, knuckles turning as white as snow. Elongating her neck, she inhales, swallows, and feels the tension, the fright that belongs to Katerina Petrova and not Katherine Pierce, seep into her skin to only slip out.
She pushes it out. With every bit of strength she has, she pushes Katerina out like she's an illness.
The night she'd hung herself in that little cottage had been her rebirth. Katerina had died so Katherine could live, but as Katherine is as tenacious as a survivor as Katerina, she finds herself having difficulty shrugging her off. Being in the company of a witch, and a powerful one at that, has that panic Katerina had worn so well and prettily ravage like a storm inside of her chest. She does everything she can to calm it.
Forcing herself to relax, her expression turns blank. Wiping that slate clean, she paints another emotion on — almost gratitude, a little of being overwhelmed. She's a damsel who had been in distress and is nothing more. She wears a pretty smile and less tension in her neck and shoulders, but it settles into her hands that remain with her fingers curled into her palms.
Brushing her hands against her own skirts, her fingers pinches at the fabric with a tightness that's almost supernatural. "My knight in skirts," she says. She tries to shake off the fact she'd almost found herself in a corner she couldn't wriggle, manipulate, or wait for herself to move out of. Looking at her saviour, she notes the strong line of her jaw, the fairness of her hair. She's familiar yet unfamiliar all at once — perhaps it's the magic in her veins and nothing more. "It must be my lucky day."
"If we were to let such brutal men take advantage of our fellow women, then what good are we," Freya offers her a small smile as she makes her way closer, but still keeping a comfortable distance. She knows Katherine has no reason to trust her, but she's very willing to earn that trust, one step at a time.
So she takes a step forward, extending her hand out to her with a small smile. "My name is Freya."
Katherine sizes up the proffered hand for only a brief moment. This woman has five long fingers on each, a palm that looks soft and unscarred, and nothing in her hands for her to see. She's used to being approached by those who have their hands behind their back, like Elijah, or held out in front of them but clasped together, fingers wrapped around one another, much like Niklaus.
She slots her hand into Freya's, and ensures to shake it with a human-like grip. "Katherine," she says, although a little slowly, like she's afraid of the syllables shifting into Katerina. After releasing a breath, she finds that her new name sits a little more comfortably on her tongue. It still has a weight that's unfamiliar, but she's getting there. Stripping herself of her identity and rebranding has been long and difficult, but it's slowly beginning to pay off.
Shoulders sagging as she lets out a breath, she adds, "And thank you. You didn't have to help me. Not many people do these days."
"Believe me, I am well aware. I try not to stoop to their level."
She doesn't push her, doesn't try to sell it too thickly, but she's never tried to make this kind of alley before. It's not a part of her skill set that comes naturally, and honestly, finding the proper companionship could help in that respect.
"Safe" isn't a word that belongs in Katherine's vocabulary anymore. It's something she yearns for, most definitely, but it is not something she will ever attain. Over the last decade, she has learned that painful lesson, despite hoping against all odds it wasn't a final lesson with nothing else left to follow.
She looks at Freya, assessing her for a moment. It isn't the first time she would find herself at the potential end of an extended invitation from a kind host. Witches, however, simply made her uncomfortable for the power they yielded over her weaknesses she couldn't control.
"No," she answers honestly. She looks a little put out, as though it's troubling she has nowhere to go. Almost sheepishly, she admits, "There have been no safe places for me for some time."
Freya offers her a small smile in return, before gesturing for her to follow. She knows it's probably not an offer most would take from a stranger, but sometimes desperate times call for desperate measures. Especially when you don't have any other options.
"You can stay with me. At least for the day. You'll be safe, and you can go on your way tomorrow night."
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deathlessness) wrote2017-06-25 11:31 am
1510 ~ you have to break rules if you want to break free
As far as Freya is concerned, there are only two important quests at hand - finding her family and finding a way to destroy Dahlia.
The latter should be simple enough, given enough time. The former, less so, as the Mikaelson family always seems to be moving, never hovering anywhere for too long, and always using different means to disguise their presence. The trio reported to be Klaus, Elijah and Rebekah weren't, possibly some vampires they compelled to believe they were, and she finds herself at a dead end, again. She needs a better tactic than constantly being a century behind. She needs to befriend someone who will always know where her siblings are, at all costs.
In many ways, that opportunity manages to fall right into her lap.
She hears the whispers about Katerina Petrova, a woman who has managed to anger her family for simply seeking to make her own choices and not be used as their pawn, and there's something in that that Freya can empathize with. While its true that she would be using her to get closer to the Mikaelsons, not further, she can't help but hope that maybe through enabling Katerina's own agency, she can possibly achieve some of her own. This is the kind of venture where she needs friends.
She just hopes that she can provide enough leverage that she can trust Katerina, and in turn, Katerina will trust her.
Finding the young vampire is as easy as a simply locator spell - unfortunately Klaus has caught wind of this and also has witches intent on doing the same. A vampire of ten years stands no chance against vampires pushing one hundred and she almost arrives too late, but not late enough. A murmured spell as she approaches causes her assailants to drop to their knees, blood pouring from their eyes as their brains melt within their heads, and when their screams of pain are bound to draw too much attention, she twists her wrists, snapping both their necks as they drop to the ground.
She pauses, only for a moment, to gather her skirts and step over the two bodies, before crouching down next to Katerina and offering her hand. "Are you alright?"
you have to break rules if you want to break free
She pushes it out. With every bit of strength she has, she pushes Katerina out like she's an illness.
The night she'd hung herself in that little cottage had been her rebirth. Katerina had died so Katherine could live, but as Katherine is as tenacious as a survivor as Katerina, she finds herself having difficulty shrugging her off. Being in the company of a witch, and a powerful one at that, has that panic Katerina had worn so well and prettily ravage like a storm inside of her chest. She does everything she can to calm it.
Forcing herself to relax, her expression turns blank. Wiping that slate clean, she paints another emotion on — almost gratitude, a little of being overwhelmed. She's a damsel who had been in distress and is nothing more. She wears a pretty smile and less tension in her neck and shoulders, but it settles into her hands that remain with her fingers curled into her palms.
Brushing her hands against her own skirts, her fingers pinches at the fabric with a tightness that's almost supernatural. "My knight in skirts," she says. She tries to shake off the fact she'd almost found herself in a corner she couldn't wriggle, manipulate, or wait for herself to move out of. Looking at her saviour, she notes the strong line of her jaw, the fairness of her hair. She's familiar yet unfamiliar all at once — perhaps it's the magic in her veins and nothing more. "It must be my lucky day."
no subject
So she takes a step forward, extending her hand out to her with a small smile. "My name is Freya."
no subject
She slots her hand into Freya's, and ensures to shake it with a human-like grip. "Katherine," she says, although a little slowly, like she's afraid of the syllables shifting into Katerina. After releasing a breath, she finds that her new name sits a little more comfortably on her tongue. It still has a weight that's unfamiliar, but she's getting there. Stripping herself of her identity and rebranding has been long and difficult, but it's slowly beginning to pay off.
Shoulders sagging as she lets out a breath, she adds, "And thank you. You didn't have to help me. Not many people do these days."
no subject
She doesn't push her, doesn't try to sell it too thickly, but she's never tried to make this kind of alley before. It's not a part of her skill set that comes naturally, and honestly, finding the proper companionship could help in that respect.
"Do you have somewhere safe to stay?"
no subject
She looks at Freya, assessing her for a moment. It isn't the first time she would find herself at the potential end of an extended invitation from a kind host. Witches, however, simply made her uncomfortable for the power they yielded over her weaknesses she couldn't control.
"No," she answers honestly. She looks a little put out, as though it's troubling she has nowhere to go. Almost sheepishly, she admits, "There have been no safe places for me for some time."
no subject
"You can stay with me. At least for the day. You'll be safe, and you can go on your way tomorrow night."