A.N.: So I started watching Legacies… I started it, and I was utterly, utterly dissatisfied. You know when parents tell you, "I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed?" So, in this story I will be taking the premise of Legacies and making it my own. I thought Hope got off far too lightly - for everything - so that'll be remedied.

I feel they cast stereotypes for the show, not characters; and this is meant as no insult to the actors, but I was appalled by the characterisation, so that's down to the writers. I'll do face-claims later for the rest of the characters.

Little Andrea was inspired by McKenna Grace as Mary in Gifted - watch clips on YouTube, she's a stunning actress. Adolescent Andrea's looks are inspired by the model Grace Elizabeth - take a look at my Legacies board on Pinterest; in a side-by-side comparison with Joseph Morgan, it's actually quite eerie how similar they are.

The Heir and the Spare

01

"What's the hold-up? We rescued Nik, we escaped mortal danger - why are we not on a private jet to Saint-Tropez?" The pretty waitress handed him a chilled mimosa, calm and compelled. He glanced at them all, gathered on the porch, helping themselves to brunch, gazing into the distance or - absurdly - reading a newspaper. He sighed, snatching the newspaper from Elijah's hands and folding it. "You can catch up on the last five years when we're on our way - I assure you, you haven't missed much."

Elijah popped his jaw, praying for patience. "Circumstances have changed. We will leave here soon enough."

"We have our nieces to consider," Rebekah said quietly.

Kol rolled his eyes, sipping his drink. Happy birthday, he thought sadly, tasting the fresh orange, just sweet enough to counteract the tangy acidity of the sparkling wine - not Champagne, but it went down smoothly. A reunion brunch…

Only, the only person he wanted to reunite with was forever out of his reach.

"Kol has a point," Freya said, and Kol raised an eyebrow at her. No-one ever agreed with him, saw the wisdom in his words. It paid to be on the outside looking on, watching them make their mistakes.

Rather than incite Marcel, he wanted to get as far away from New Orleans, and as far away from his reputation, as possible. Do justice to the endless life he had been cursed with; make Davina proud of how he chose to spend his eternity…after a decade-long bender…

Freya rose from her rocker, sighing, as she murmured, "We need to put an ocean between us and Marcel Gerard as soon as possible."

"We're not going anywhere today." Nik was quieter than usual. Five years of isolation and torment was not nearly what he deserved after a millennium's sadistic torture of his family, but Kol would take small victories. He had never seen Nik…cowed. He had been all bravado in front of Marcellus, but they all knew…Marcel was right. For the first time in their interminable, intolerable lives, they were truly at the mercy of another. And of their own making.

They had acted abominably, and Kol…Kol alone shared Marcel's grief…and they didn't care. They didn't care to dwell on why they had made an enemy of Marcellus; they didn't dare evaluate why Kol was hell-bent on separating from them and never setting eyes on any of them ever again.

Davina.

"I want one day of peace with my daughters before their lives are uprooted forever," Klaus muttered. It was not an outrageous request. For the first time in five years, they would be meeting their nieces. Klaus would lay eyes on his daughters for the first time since they were toddlers.

"Any delay is a risk," Freya sighed, forever the harbinger of doom. Kol sipped his mimosa, rolling his eyes. If anyone were to ask his opinion - which he noted they were not - he'd advise them all to haul arse to the far ends of the Earth and never give Marcel Gerard reason to follow.

"One day," Nik said coldly, glowering at Freya - it lacked heat, though, as if the last five years had taken the fight out of him. Kol remembered his bravado, facing down Marcel - but that was all it was. "We're in the middle of nowhere, the house is cloaked, we weren't followed - and I'M NOT ASKING."

Kol drifted back to the buffet spread, refreshing his glass and stealing a strawberry. They were forced; they never tasted quite as exquisite as those picked straight from the plant, in prime strawberry season. England, the Fifteenth Century…English strawberries and fresh cream. He glanced up as the screen-door burst open at the side-entrance, and a little girl in rumpled jeans slightly too big for her and a tiny t-shirt bounded onto the porch, cursing quietly under her breath as water from a small watering-can sloshed over her bare toes. She had hair the colour of wheat in the sunshine bound in two haphazard braids she had obviously plaited herself. He watched as she marched barefoot to a collection of planters, a great ginger beast lolloping around her ankles.

As the front-door opened beside Freya's abandoned rocker, Kol gave a disinterested glance over his shoulder, and saw Hayley give Klaus a warning look before smiling down reassuringly at the shy face peeking behind a sheet of auburn hair. The other twin.

"Everybody, look who's awake…" His siblings rose from their seats and gathered to gaze in wonder at the limpet-child attached to Hayley's side. Her eyes were downcast, and she twisted the hem of her dress in her hand anxiously.

Confronted with five strangers, and full-grown adults, all staring at her like she had walked on water, he couldn't blame the kid for shrinking behind her mother's legs.

He could say a lot about his family; one of the few things he could not say was that any of them were shy.

Kol drifted off, curious what the other little girl was doing. He could hear her, chattering away happily to herself, and peeking around the corner, he watched her watering a large planter overflowing with flowers and herbs - with a few plastic dinosaurs conspicuous amongst the foliage, her very own Jurassic Park. He sipped his mimosa and watched, curious.

Seeing the little girls, his nieces, was a sucker-punch.

Inside Freya's horrific beige chambre de chasse, they had fooled themselves into believing time had not been passing - at least, that had been their hope; that their bland eternity inside the chambre was a mere blip to Hayley as she searched… But time had not stood still.

Five years truly had passed.

And nothing demonstrated that fact more brutally than his nieces.

They were no longer toddlers, just learning to wheedle around precariously, murmuring their version of a language none of them could recognise, their delight recognisable in their developing laughter and toothless grins.

These were small, exquisite children.

Leaving the others to coo over and intimidate the auburn twin, Kol meandered out of the shade of the porch toward the other little girl. The great ginger beast glanced around, and Kol raised an eyebrow; the cat had one eye. His footsteps on the dusty earthen path made the little girl glance up.

Another punch to the gut.

Nik's face gazed back at him, young, softened by femininity. His cheekbones, his plump lips, even his hooded eyes. If the other twin was an auburn version of Hayley, then this twin was Nik, with a few deliberate mistakes.

"Hello," he said softly. He had never been a part of Always and Forever but he wasn't going to punish this little one for it; he was going to be…all that Davina knew he had it in himself to be.

"Mommy said we have visitors," she sighed shortly, sprinkling water over her agapanthus. There was thinly-veiled blame as she muttered, "You chased Grandma Mary away."

"I don't think anything could chase Mary Dumas away," Kol said honestly, crouching down and neatening the herbs of spent leaves. "She's tough."

"Yes she is. She can fillet a fish without a clothes-pin on her nose," the little girl grinned; her front-teeth were missing. There was a large yellow i on her red t-shirt, she had sparkling yellow flower barrettes clipping her hair from her face, and a cat sticker under her left ear. "And she plays dominoes. What's your name?"

"My name is Kol."

"I'm Andrea Elyse Marshall," the little girl said, with confidence, offering her little hand. She had her tiny fingernails painted - sky-blue, and shimmering. She pronounced her name Ahn-drey-uh, not An-dree-ah: The same way Hayley and the others pronounced her birth-name, the shattered future this little girl was named for. Hope's naming was obvious; but Andrea was named for possibility. The cat purred and wound itself around her bare ankles, and Kol thought of familiars. "Are you my uncle?"

"I am," Kol said, smiling sadly.

"Hm. It's nice to meet you."

Kol glanced at the little hand, and reached out to shake it. Andrea Elyse Marshall's intense hazel eyes widened subtly, as they shook hands; he remembered she had witch ancestry. She was reading him through skin-to-skin contact, as so many witches did unconsciously. With a sinking feeling, he wondered what she felt.

"It's very nice to meet you, too," Kol said earnestly, with a regretful smile. "I have a question, Andrea… Where are your teeth?"

"This one I pulled out by myself, Mommy wanted to tie it to the door because I kept making it dance," Andrea said, pointing at her gums; she gave a giggle. "And this one I lost because I ate a candy-apple. I got three whole dollars for each one! But I can't whistle anymore."

"Bummer," Kol clucked his tongue.

"Isn't it, though?"

"Now, he is either a very large cat or a rather stunted jaguar," Kol remarked, eyeing the cat watching him, one-eyed.

"This is Sweet Pea, he's the best cat in the whole world, and I love him," Andrea sighed, reaching down to scratch Sweet Pea's ears. She cooed, "He's a dude, and a guy, and he only has - one eye!" She giggled, delight illuminating her little face; it was strange to see Nik's features radiant with pure joy. Andrea sighed, scratching Sweet Pea's ears; he purred loudly and rubbed against her legs.

"What happened to his eye?" Kol asked curiously, almost wanting to reach out to test his mettle with the cat. He wasn't very good with animals; they got anxious around him.

"I don't know, I wasn't there," Andrea shrugged unconcernedly. "I just found him in a trashcan next to a bottle of, like, alcohol or something." Another little shrug, as she scratched Sweet Pea's thick fur.

"And you brought him home?"

"Mommy doesn't like cats with two eyes, but Sweet Pea is monocular. 'Mono' means one. And he likes playing with his ping-pong ball. We watch David Attenborough together," Andrea said. "Did you know sea-turtles have pap- papillae all the way down to their stomachs to protect them from jellyfish stings? They look like a horror movie." She beamed, excited.

"I did not know that," Kol said honestly, blinking. He was getting slight whiplash from the rapid change in topics. "I've never had much occasion to watch David Attenborough."

"I like his voice," Andrea said thoughtfully. "It's gentle and clever. Do you like my agapanthus?"

"I do. You like words, don't you Andrea?"

"I like learning," Andrea said, beaming. Her missing teeth made her smile slightly jarring. "We're building a zoo at school."

"You're not going to put Sweet Pea in a cage?" Kol asked, teasing.

"It's a diorama, we have to make one," Andrea grinned. "I'm in the First Grade… Why are you sad?" Kol blinked: So she had read him.

"It's a very good friend of mine's birthday today," he said, settling on a facet of the truth that wasn't so painful it couldn't be shared.

"What's her name?"

"How do you know my friend is a girl?" Kol asked, smiling.

"Because you're sad," Andrea smiled warmly. "Mommy says that when you're in love, sometimes you're miserable."

"Well, your mum would know," Kol muttered. He sighed, and told Andrea, "Her name is Davina."

"Davina," Andrea frowned, testing the name out. "And do you love her?"

"More than anything in the world," Kol said grimly. "More even than magic."

Andrea gasped, her face lighting up, delighted. "We should make her a cake!"

"A cake?"

"Grandma Mary taught me, c'mon!" Andrea beamed, reaching for Kol's hand, the watering-can abandoned, monocular Sweet Pea watching Kol as if to say, You're hers now. Enjoy. "We need eggs. I'll introduce you to Chanticleer and Poppy and Spicer and Agatha Christie, but Queen Charlotte's lazy and never goes back to the coop to lay, but she's the best layer, and we have to hunt for the eggs and she likes the barn."

A tiny little girl was tugging him toward the outlying barn - and he, a thousand-year-old resurrected Original vampire, found himself being pulled along. He could have resisted, even teased her, or thrown her over his shoulder and carried her back to the porch to endure the cringe-worthy reunion… He didn't. He let Andrea tug him toward the barn. He could see the hencoop built beside it, partially shaded, where the chickens could roam free, clucking and scratching.

"So, you like your flowers, and your monocular cat, and you like hunting for eggs," Kol said. "What else do you like?"

"Fishing, and school and drawing," Andrea said, after a thoughtful moment. "Sweet Pea, stay here. Sweet Pea loves the chickens," Andrea told Kol. "He thinks he'd like to catch one, but he'd regret it. I know. Sweet Pea's not a killer, he's a lover."

Kol chuckled to himself. "You like school?"

"Not math. I like friends," Andrea told him.

"Do you have lots of friends?"

Andrea stilled, quiet. Her expression became thoughtful, sad; her eyes were downcast and she pursed her lips. "I don't have any friends but Sweet Pea. There's only Hope."

"You must spend a lot of time together," Kol said, observing the change in Andrea as they discussed her twin.

"She doesn't like to play," Andrea said, as if this was a truth she had long ago accepted.

"That's a shame. Your mum told us that Hope likes to paint," Kol said. "Don't you colour together?"

"Mommy doesn't like us outside at noon; I learned to tell time so I know when I have to be home," she said excitedly, proudly showing Kol a colourful child's watch that was still too big for her slender little wrist. "That's when I draw."

"Do they let you draw at school?"

"Sometimes. I like school - except Kyle," Andrea said, and her face bunched up in a scowl. "He's a bully. I don't like bullies."

"Nor do I," Kol said, smiling to himself as he watched the innocent daughter of the most sadistic bully in history shove open the door to the barn. "How many eggs do we need?"

"Mm…maybe four?" Andrea said, pulling a thoughtful face, and they ducked into the shade - and the sweltering, close heat - of the barn. It was full of forgotten things; abandoned tractors and broken carburettors - not that he knew much about that kind of stuff. Andrea showed him Queen Charlotte's favourite spots, and they found a couple of eggs. He turned around to find her gone; she moved quietly.

He found her again, a few feet away behind the antique tractor, rigid, her lips parted in shock, her little hands wrapped around the two eggs they had found.

"Andrea, what's wrong?" he asked sharply.

There was more than broken machinery and old straw left to rot in the barn. Kol sighed heavily, closing his eyes, realising before anything else that he would likely get the blame for this.

The wolf Hayley had tracked - the last of the Malraux pack - was curled up, a sadistic mask clamped over her face, her wrists cut up from restraints, sweating in the close air, shivering from cold sweat and hunger and pain…he could smell it on the air.

He couldn't remember her name.

Andrea didn't know her.

"Andrea…" He stepped forward, but the little girl glanced over her shoulder and gave him such a dangerous look, he froze. It was all in the eyes; and hers seemed to stop time. It was a look she could only have inherited; even if Nik had never been around to teach it to her.

After a thousand years with his sadistic half-brother, seeing his glower on an innocent little girl was uncanny - and far more effective.

Carefully, Andrea set the two eggs down on the ground at her feet. Curious, Kol watched what she would do, prepared to defend her if the werewolf attacked. But the wolf seemed as shocked as Andrea at the sight of them in the barn. Her dark eyes were drenched in pain as she fixed them on Andrea, blinking sweat out of her vision, panting softly.

Hesitantly, Andrea stepped forward. Subtly, she lifted her little nose, and Kol realised she was scenting the werewolf. Andrea tilted her head to one side, thoughtfully, in a way that reminded Kol of inquisitive puppies.

Niklaus had been an Original vampire for a thousand years; in the time Kol had been lurking on the periphery of Always and Forever, he had had occasion to observe his half-brother. Not once in the years since undoing Esther's spell had Klaus ever learned how to embrace his werewolf nature - he was a narcissist, a pathological manipulator, sadistic and cruel… The antithesis of what it meant to be a wolf. Here, this tiny girl, with her features so like Nik's, already displayed more lupine characteristics than Nik ever had.

Whether or not she knew what her instincts meant - they hadn't exactly had a family meeting to discuss what Hayley had told her twin daughters, and what they were not allowed to discuss in front of them - something inside Andrea was guiding her actions.

She reached out, frowning intensely, and before she tugged the mask off the werewolf's face, she first examined the straps, how it was all connected. When she undid the strap binding the mask around the werewolf's head, her delicate little fingers were methodical and gentle. And she winced, the same as the werewolf did, when she prised the mask off. Compassion.

The woman panted. Confronted with a little kid, she was caught off-guard, and Kol watched the awkward, reassuring smile she gave Andrea in spite of her obvious pain, and the truth of the situation - that she was being held, tormented.

It was not the ideal scenario, and Kol regretted that Andrea had found the werewolf. He knew he would be blamed - wasn't he always? But he silently cursed Freya; she had cloaked the wolf, hiding her from them all as they convened at this farmhouse to meet their nieces for the first time in five years.

"Hi," the werewolf said, panting softly, and giving Andrea a smile Kol could almost believe was genuine.

"You're hurt," Andrea said quietly, her eyes lingering on the werewolf's wrists, which were raw, cut up.

"Don't you worry," said the wolf, "I'll heal just fine." She flitted a glance at Kol, who watched her, not scowling but just…glaring in disappointment - with Freya.

If he'd thought about spending any time with his nieces at all - he never had, of course; the twins were exclusively Bekah's, Klaus's, Elijah's - sometimes Hayley was even allowed near them… But if he had given it a second thought, this was not the perfect scenario by any stretch of his imagination.

Andrea tilted her head to one side, her eyes still fixated on the woman's wrists. Hesitantly, she raised her hand, and gently touched the wolf's arm. Her eyes widened; and she inhaled sharply. Her little eyebrows knitted together, and she stepped back. The change in her body-language was remarkable: Her little shoulders tucked inward, her chin dropped to her chest, her eyes were downcast, and she started shivering.

"Andrea, you're shivering… Why don't you wait outside in the sunshine?" Kol asked gently, hoping she would, and realising instinctively that she wouldn't - because her chin jutted up again, and she reached forward, eyeing the restraints.

His lips parted as she broke the restraints…the strength she had inherited from her parents, from Nik as an Original vampire on top of being a werewolf, manifested in her tiny little arms, her nimble little fingers. She broke the restraints, and the werewolf gave Kol a confused look.

"I don't think we have any Band Aids," Andrea frowned suddenly.

"That's okay. Fresh air will do me the world of good," the wolf assured her.

"They don't smell good," Andrea told her, wrinkling her little nose.

"A little antiseptic and I'll be fine," the wolf told her, with a warm smile. Kol realised he was coiled, tense, ready to spring; anticipating violence.

"Andrea…go and wait outside," Kol told her gently, but with a bite of authority that she must recognise from her mother; Andrea glanced at him, reading him. Whatever she saw in his expression made her sigh softly, but duck her head - it was a subtle, submissive movement, and she stooped to pick up the eggs she had been hunting before they stumbled upon a werewolf caught in a snare.

He felt his grim expression ease as the barn-door swung open, shedding sunlight into the close, darkened hall; the tired hinges creaked, rust shavings released their scent into the air, and Kol rubbed his hands over his face, tired. He had been in a mystically-induced coma for five years, he should not be this exhausted. But he was.

"That kid is a wolf," said the werewolf, her eyes on the barn-door, which had swung closed behind Andrea. The wolf didn't rise from the floor; she wasn't stupid.

"That kid is a lot of things," Kol said quietly. "Freya string you up?"

"Your blonde friend? She's been stealing my venom," the wolf said, panting softly. He was coldblooded; werewolves were the opposite, and truly felt every discomfort he hadn't had to think about in centuries. Sweat trickled from her temples, and he could see her hair getting frizzier as the seconds passed.

Kol shook his head. He knew Freya was reactionary, rather than precautionary: She responded to fear with anger, resentment, cruelty and stone-cold pragmatism.

It was no wonder she had slipped so neatly into Always and Forever; whereas Kol had forever been shoved to the side-lines. Or rather, into a coffin. He was unpredictable; Klaus could not control him.

But Freya…?

Her motivations were easy to figure out; her actions were easy to anticipate.

It was boring, really.

He was too tired, too distracted by it being Davina's twenty-third birthday to give Freya much thought.

But bringing the wolf here? Where their nieces lived, and played, and explored?

He wasn't going to win any Babysitter of the Year Awards but Kol was wise enough to know that Freya bringing the wolf to their backyard spit in the face of everything Hayley wanted for her daughters. She had fought tooth and nail to protect her girls; to give them a life she never had - safety, protection. The lives they had all had stolen from them.

Their innocence. Their delight. Companions, without the cruelty.

He wondered how Hayley had ever brought herself to wake them. To invite the Originals into the lives of her tiny, innocent, fragile little girls.

Andrea had inherited Klaus's looks, yes; but she had also inherited a target on her back from the moment almost of her conception. Anyone looking to revenge themselves on Klaus now had the most exquisite target. Two vulnerable little girls.

The longer Hayley kept them asleep, the longer she kept her girls safe.

No more inciting violence, no more betrayal, ruthless cruelty, no more power struggles and viciousness, no more punishing each other…no werewolves chained up in the barn. Just the three of them. Just Hayley and her girls.

Whether she listened or not, Kol would give Hayley his two cents. Her daughters deserved that much: And then he would be gone.

Until then…

A thousand years' experience learning everything he could about all the manifest forms of magic, and Kol the Original Vampire had a few witchy tricks up his sleeves. He had not been a prodigy for nothing.

He looked at the werewolf, and sighed.

"They're cooing over Andrea's sister," he told her. "You'd better get going. Half a mile to the main road, follow it east and you'll reach the town." He pulled out his wallet, startled as Davina smiled warmly up at him…proud of him… He counted out two hundred dollars and handed it over. "Wait a moment…" Outside, he found the herbs and wildflowers growing in profusion in Andrea's planters; he picked out choice herbs, and created a woven bracelet. It was simple magic, but ancient, and effective. He ducked back into the barn, and handed the bracelet over. "Keep it on. At least until you can find a witch to do a decent cloaking spell. Or, get so far from here that it's a damned inconvenience to chase you down. I hear good things about Machu Pichu. No need to send a postcard."

The wolf stared at him, frowning. Hesitantly, she took the money, and the bracelet.

"Why are you letting me go?" she asked quietly. Kol sighed heavily, Davina's photograph in his wallet burning a hole in his back-pocket.

"Breaking the cycle," he told the wolf. "You'd best be going."

It didn't take long for Freya to realise her setup had been compromised, that someone had undone her wards and protections: The wolf was out of even Kol's hearing before Freya arrived at the barn, skinny and dogged, glaring at him. He leaned casually against the broken-down tractor, arms folded loosely over his chest, waiting, not at all concerned by her ire. After a thousand years with Nik, what was this miserable entitled brat who had inserted herself into their family?

Once, he might have resented her for her place in the inner circle: Now, she was welcome to it. He had no desire to remain shackled to Always and Forever, a fantasy - a delusion. An exhausted excuse for brutality. Toxic dysfunction masquerading as loyalty - and completely one-sided: It was Nik or nothing.

They had all experienced that; but it seemed only Kol had learned the lesson.

In Always and Forever, there was no room for anyone but Klaus.

Not even his own daughters.

"Where is she?" Freya demanded on a growl.

"Vanished," Kol shrugged, clicking his tongue.

"Yeah, I'm going after her," Freya announced, turning to the door; Kol blocked her way in an instant.

"No, you're not."

"Move," Freya warned. She shot her hand at Kol, hitting him with a spell that made it feel like a flaming ball of acid had hit him in the chest. "I can do much worse…" He grinned, and chuckled.

"What you forget, dear Freya - what you all forget - is that you may be a 'firstborn Mikaelson witch'…but I was the prodigy," Kol smirked. "All your little tricks are child's play. This little experiment…lacks imagination. You have enough to make an anti-venom; and I have more than enough sense not to incite Marcel's wrath. I council you all to follow my example."

"Marcel could be handing out vials of his venom to anyone."

"And lose his leverage over us?" Kol sneered. "Allow other witches to cultivate an anti-venom of their own? Worse - to create a monster more powerful than him?"

"We can't avoid a threat that could be everywhere."

"And this wolf is the ultimate weapon?" Kol scoffed. The twins were their chance to start afresh, to be better than they were…Freya remained dug into old habits like a tick. "She deserves kidnap and torture?"

"Now you're the arbiter of right and wrong?" Freya scoffed.

"No, just of good sense," Kol snapped. "We have two little girls running about this place - their home - and you are keeping a woman chained up and in pain as an experiment. Andrea is going to have questions -"

"Then tell her that the world's a bad place, and that sometimes we have to do bad things to survive," Freya said coldly. "The girls will both be safer if they learn that early."

"It's not their job to keep themselves safe. It's ours. And that includes protecting their innocence - it includes protecting them, even from ourselves," Kol said, his voice rising.

"They're Mikaelsons - they can live without their innocence," Freya hissed. "They can't live without their family."

"They will live a lot longer without this family," Kol bit back, disagreeing wholeheartedly. He had endured a thousand years of his family: Freya was a blip, the last in a long line of temporary additions to the convoluted dynamic of their hateful, dysfunctional family. "And their innocence is worth more than all of us together; I refuse to let you deprive them of it."

"I have a wolf to hunt."

"You are transparent, Freya, you have always been transparent," Kol sighed, shaking his head, smug and tired - tired of her, tired of her fear, her belligerence. "And lack any wisdom, through all you have endured. Frantically trying to create an antidote to an avoidable affliction; inciting new enemies to get it. This is how we lived for a thousand years: Lying on a bed of weeds, ripping them out by the root one by one before they strangled us in our sleep!"

And he hated it.

He pointed a finger upward, and saw the shock and viciousness flit across Freya's face as realisation sank in; he had trapped her. Very cleverly, too; it would take hours for her to unpick the locks - even with all her firstborn Mikaelson gifts. She was the firstborn; he was the prodigy. And he had a thousand years' experience learning how to channel magic he no longer had an intimate connection to. "You won't be going anywhere for a good long while; as I said…all that power, and yet you lack any imagination."

"Kol!" He chuckled as he walked away, leaving Freya impotent and wrathful. He might pay for this later, Nik would likely threaten him, but setting the werewolf free…was right.

He was breaking the cycle.

Paranoia and brutality - he would not spend the next thousand years devoted to the very worst parts of himself. He approached the barn-door, seeing an intense hazel eye peeking between the slats. Andrea, still clutching her eggs, guarded by Sweet Pea, had waited for him, watching.

"Were you peeking?"

"Yes," Andrea said unabashedly, gazing up at Kol. "Who's she?"

"She's your Aunt Freya," Kol said, sighing heavily.

"I don't like her," said Andrea, very coldly, a sombre glare on her face.

"Well, she's on a time-out," Kol said, squatting down in front of her. Andrea peeked past him.

"She's afraid," Andrea said softly, and Kol raised an eyebrow. "Can smell it."

"With that dainty little nose?" Kol asked, smiling, and tenderly pressed the tip of her nose. She gave him a tiny smile. "And you're quite right, she is afraid." He sighed heavily. "What defines us is how we respond to fear."

A.N.: I'd intended to write a prologue that was a flashback to when the twins were little, then I thought…no, I want to set up the characters' complicated dynamics when the girls are teenagers, based on what happens in New Orleans when they're little, so…

I thought the way the writers handled the Originals' reintroduction to their seven-year-old niece's life was way too perfect and saccharine - I'm sorry, but after being gone most of Hope's life, there's no way she'd instantly be calling Klaus 'dad' and snuggling up to him as if he's always been there. If soldiers can be gone six months and their own kids don't recognise them…you know?

And the way they treat her… It makes me nauseous to watch it. As an only child, the daughter of a narcissist, to me it seems unhealthy - dangerous, even - to treat Hope with so much deference; they spoil her, tell her that she's a princess, that she's special. I'd worry, as her mother, that she would grow up to be entitled and self-absorbed, believing she can do no wrong and is always right…a narcissist…

I'm sure it's within Hayley's talents to acquire false documentation, so what on earth has stopped her sending Hope to school to make friends and acquire essential social-skills? She's seven! Was Hayley home-schooling her while leading a double-life as an acquirer of rare antidotes and werewolf venom? How is Hope emotionally healthy if she has no-one but Hayley to talk to or play with? If that scenario is true, then there's no way Hope would be able to make connections to others so easily; she'd be completely dependent on Hayley. I never took Psychology at college or anything, I just can't help wonder…

So I've just finished watching The Society on Netflix: To anyone who wants a recommendation for their next binge, I'd give it a go. Ten episodes, and it's very thought-provoking: I spent a lot of time thinking, If that was me, in that situation, what would I do? I've asked the site to add The Society so I can hopefully upload a story later on.