chapter three ;

unauthorised liquid from his eyes

aka

Castiel vs the world

AT FIRST CASTIEL DIDN'T NOTICE ANYTHING WRONG. In his defence, everything was very subtle.

His life had gone on, with him being a drooling bucket, his brothers happy and his parents, somewhat cheerful. They got food to eat, water to bathe, time to play; everything was perfect as it could be.

Castiel made sure to not act out, do something out of character from a toddler not yet walking. Not much talking without lisping, no sudden knowledge of matters he shouldn't know; it was surprisingly difficult.

He had of course had practice over this, Castiel was the very definition of a slippery cuckoo who lived in a crow nest. Having lived many lives and been killed for making a mistake for being slightly different, he knew what to do and what not.

Yet, it was difficult all the same, knowing he was above this kind of stupidity, knowing he could be so much more if he tried harder to train from his muscle memory.

He could be a child prodigy. He could set the bar so high that other people would get jealous of him. He could be anything.

But then, he concluded sourly, mortals never did like anything different. What troubles could he bring by changing things this early? Who all could get suspicious of him enough to pull arson on him, again? What if he fucked up his imminent salvation from his curse?

He couldn't risk it, not with the family he has currently if his fuzzy memories are indeed correct. Not with what Achlys had said and the enemies he was sure was watching him. Castiel couldn't risk his chance for escape when he currently has no power to fight.

It felt like a ticking bomb waiting to explode. He didn't like repressing himself. But Castiel bore it, as it was a necessity. He was once the personification of love. He could be patient.

And so he waited and calculated the main points. A girl and wolves, he knew, were the catalyst of his family's rebirth and the beginning of their suffering. A girl with magical blood in her veins, and extraordinary wolves. Then there was Hope and Hayley, his future spawn and baby mama.

Castiel vehemently agreed for the latter to not to happen. He wasn't a parent material nor was he interested in companionship and the drama that comes with it.

The littlest Mikaelson would be better off than being used by her family and their enemies against Klaus, good intentions or no. Against him. Hayley would find her way, if not maybe one day he would help her, if she accepts his meddling. Without a spawn between them.

With that firm decision, Castiel plotted more and more about the parts he remembered from the show, preparing himself for the inevitable.

He waited for signs, memorised what he could remember and looked for any signs that showed him that something had changed.

Who knows when the other gods get bored and decides to murder him? One can't be too sure. Afterall his vessel shouldn't have magic.

His whole life was one big drama of impossible, to his exasperation.

It was one of these moments, he noticed something curious.

Three moons had passed when he noticed the first sign that was his vessel's-Nikolaus- father. He started to see Mikel a lot more around than usual.

It wasn't the most alarming thing; Mikel was around them a lot but usually he went on for a long amount of time hunting with other men in the village, bringing various things that included a lot more that food stuffs and skins of animals, more frequently wolf skins. Otherwise, he was in farms; growing and harvesting the crops with Ejnar and Finn in their land, leaving Esther with household chores, Castiel wrapped in a sling.

He didn't fault Mikel for the absence, he knew how difficult living at these times was. It wasn't even a difficult decision to make, since Mikel did make time for his children and wife, something Castiel didn't understand but didn't question either. Not after the utter lack of control of his magic.

Things were changing, or maybe it was always like this before, Castiel wouldn't know. His future was full of uncertainties, which was terribly inconvenient.

As inconvenient as Mikel's affection, which he is getting used to.

Starved of parental affection as he is, Castiel didn't think much of it at first. He loved whatever tiny amount of Mikel's attention to him; Mikel whenever home tried to teach his brothers and him about wood whittling which was incredibly soothing and painful for him.

Whittling brought back memories he wasn't ready for, pain so deep that waterfalls fell out from his eyes much to his consternation and Esther's mild worry.

He was once the god of love, the greatest of the fearsome Erebus and cunning Nyx! Thanatos and Achyls can go fuck themselves, he was their parents favoured child too. To be reduced into this, sheer infantilism, again and again- he wanted to gorge his eyes out.

The pain, the smell of betrayal never left- will not leave him even if it has been aeons since the incident. Curious, how pain was his only companion at his exile.

"You make sure not to let your gaze waver, lest you want your hands cut, boys." Mikel cautioned, his face, stern. Castiel blinked away the unshed tears out of his eyes and stared at the tiny, but larger than his current fingers rubbing the underside of his foot hesitantly.

Finn and Ejnar leaned over from Mikel's knee's, staring at their father with curiosity, both of them having a piece of wood and knife at their laps-their hands near his foot.

"Are you listening too, son?" Mikel asked gruffly, looking at Castiel pointedly. He blinked, looking away from his toes to Mikel's face and nodded. Mikel gave him a rare soft smile, and hugged Castiel closed to his chest.

Fuck, he's so confused. Atlas may the fucker suffer more, Castiel go on with this as long as he gets cuddles. For all his tv version's fault, the motherfucker he calls his father, gave the best hugs.

What the ever loving fuck.

"Good, now you both may begin." Mikel cast a stern eye over Ejnar and Finn. "Be careful with the knives, boys. If you bleed, you come to me." Ejnar and Finn nodded, their faces set into determination. They both turned their action to the wood and the knife in their hands.

Mikel observed the two for a moment, shook his head fondly then went to whittling his own piece. He kept a firm hold over Castiel who was in his lap, back to Mikel's warm and sweaty tunic clad chest.

Castiel felt lost. What was he doing, in a fictional world with particularly fictional characters? One of the fictional characters, who was supposed to hate him, loathes the very ground he's walking but does not? With brothers who care for him- comforting him-mother who he doesn't know much about but knows she adored him, and a father who cares about him?

He let out a watery hiccup, cursing his infant senses. Tears, unauthorised liquid fell down to his chubby cheeks to Mikel's hard skin. He is Castiel, an angel not some waif of a leviathan-

"Hush, my little luck bearer. Nothing is going to harm him," came Mikel's croons, breaking Castiel out of his dark haze. He was in Mikel's warm embrace, his head held by his father, as if he's protecting him from the world. Wide blue eyes met thunderous blue, and Mikel smiled; a soft one filled with pain and tenderness. Castiel clutched Mikel's tunic desperately and breathed.

Mikel didn't say anything. He took Castiel's tiny palms and put a small figure in it. Castiel stared.

"Mayhap this might help you ground yourself when you are world's away from us, my boy." Mikel said. "It is a horse, Sleipnir I call him. I had one like him, when I was a boy. My brother gave it to me before he went to war. They are both lost to me now, one forever but the other I regained through my skills and memories. May Sleipnir help you too as he did once for me."

Castiel beamed. "Thank you, father, '' he tried to say. Instead it turned to somewhat 'thank ye, fathee', much to his embarrassment. Mikel gave him an easy grin and went back to observing his siblings.

In the end, Finn made a cat and Ejnar, a hunting dog. A cat and a dog were generous terms; if a cat looked more like a hybrid of an elephant with small ears and big body, and a dog which looked more like a cow.

Their father made two perfectly shaped wooden daggers in which two of them were given to Finn and Ejnar as a reward for their work.

"So you can practise your throwing," was Mikel's reply. Ejnar and Finn looked thrilled. Castiel didn't get one but he wasn't upset.

He had Sleipnir. It was more than enough.

--𝝥𝝥--

The second sign was Esther's frequent visits to Ayanna and Tilda, who were their village's healers and priests of sorts. That was when he got suspicious.

Esther usually had lessons with Ayanna, Castiel had noticed before. Not frequently, but often enough that Esther was tired all day after those visits. Castiel deduced that it could be magic lessons.

Mikel usually took them all to various places nearby to learn about various types of traps at those times. Castiel was usually strapped to Finn's or Mikel's back at those times, much to his annoyance. But those journeys helped Castiel to make an outline of the place he was living, so he shut his mouth and bore it.

He also ignored Ejnar poking at those times. His elder brother will not be finding any of his ticklish spots, and win the petty game they're playing, no sir. Castiel had pride and he refused to bow down to Ejnar's whims as Finn does, willingly or unwillingly.

By the time they came back, Esther would be in their home with a pot of warm stew, honey and bread; a small upturn of her lips, as if she was amused by them. Esther never smiled though but they did enough for her.

Then began the disappearances.

Castiel, as small as was always near one of his vessel's family. Sometimes it was his parents but most of his time was spent with Esther, who did chores and prepared the food for them.

Castiel was the only audience to her small quips and sighs as Ejnar and Finn were sent off to do their chores.

That changed soon, and he was dumped to Ejnar soon; with Finn keeping a distant eye on them.

He was more than outraged, and it was the beginning of his suspicions.

Days went on, and Esther always sent Castiel with his siblings. When the trio came back, Esther was there, pale and tired.

He wondered if Esther was practising her magic alone, because why would she send him off? Esther has shown a very clingy protectiveness of him; always making sure he was where she could see him.

Either way, It ends now.

Clutching his Sleipnir tightly, Castiel stared at Esther suspiciously from his play area. His mother was sewing, unaware of his gaze on her.

"Ma," he said. Castiel could talk, he really could. He tried a few weeks ago when everyone was asleep and it was successful.

But he hated the lisping, the damn annoyance it was. He hated that he couldn't pronounce his O's and R's properly.

He had been an adult for years, damn it. It was embarrassing to revert back to baby speak just so his vocals weren't developed with his mental state.

Conclusion, he hated his existence.

Esther paused, her needle wielded like a sword. Knowing her, she might know how to wield one too. Castiel had never met a mortal woman in this timeline as capable as her. Esther may not be Nyx, but she wasn't a spineless flower either.

No, she reminded Castiel of crows, cunning carefully hidden with stoicism or stupidity. Those are so like Nyx's eyes yet dwarfed but no less dangerous. They were the eyes of the prey turned predator, one he knew intimately.

One of the most dangerous ones, desperation and quiet fury at some injustice. It scared him to his very bones.

Clearly something wasn't right. More and more. He might not remember much, but he knew Esther was supposed to be helpless against Mikael. There was supposed to be a cruel father and a neglectful mother focused on the people she lost. So what happened?

He added that in his ever growing list of 'shit that changed without his chaos'. The list was growing, much to his irritation.

It was these times like this, he wished he had paid attention to Leo's furious reruns of the Vampire Diaries and the Originals. Even if Castiel's memory is shit, he could somehow get some sort of deja vu to work with.

However stupid that is.

Seeing that Castiel isn't needing anything urgently, Esther turned her head. "Be good for me, my boy." She bit down the thread and started knotting the end of the thread. "Your ma is busy. Your father and brothers will be back soon to entertain you." She went back to her sewing, this time humming softly.

Okay sue not embarrassing himself.

"Are ye unwell?" Castiel blurred out. Esther froze. "Yer not gonna go away forever?" For some extra measure, he made sure to have some unshed tears in his eyes.

Slowly, Esther put down the breeches she was sewing, and walked towards him. Castiel accepted the cuddle from her, knowing she wouldn't do anything bad. Hook, line, sinker.

"I'm not sick," Esther began, her cornflower blue eyes soft. His mortal mother was stoic as ever but there were moments like this, moments where Castiel felt so choked up with the adoration he felt from her. He wondered if his siblings felt like this too.

"You're getting a new sibling so I'm preparing for them, my dear boy." He noted she didn't say anything about dying.

He felt something burn inside his throat. "Nuh die?" He took on a lonely stray hair which escaped Esther's braids. His mother looked radiant, come to think about it, with white daisies braided in her hair. Finn had given those to her in the morning, like the sucker he is.

She was still pale, but there was a bounce and deep joy inside of her, as if she's happier than ever.

Esther hugged him close. "I will not part from you willingly, Nikolaus." She kissed his tiny head which only had small tufts of blond hair in the middle. Castiel's eyes fluttered. He had recently had a haircut, courtesy of Mikel.

Eyes brightening, he stared at those so familiar icy blue eyes. "Sister." He decided. "I want a new sister." He grinned at the raised brow.

"Not a brother?"

Castiel scoffed. "Have plenty," he grumbled good naturedly. He doesn't want any more siblings, but he shall compromise if it's a girl.

Esther laughed freely. Castiel felt warm at the sound. His mother wasn't a woman who laughed easily. No, none in his village was. It was as if they had seen too much.

Esther and Mikael, as long as Castiel had seen them, had only smiles or chuckles but never out-blown laughter as if they were afraid someone will take away their happiness. A starved part of him felt proud that he was the one who made Esther laugh.

It felt good to have a mother's love. He hoped this wouldn't end.

He yawned widely but let Esther knock their foreheads slowly. "Never change, my little hope," she said, eyes bright but also serious.

The next words confused the heck out of him. "You're the product of my greatest sin and yet I'm so very thankful I got you. May my mistakes not haunt you. Sleep now, Nikolaus, my little joy." She kissed Castiel's closed eyelids, then his head and finally whispered some jumbled words.

Castiel blinked. Once, twice and then yawned again. He tried to stay awake, desperate to hear more of Esther's secrets yet he couldn't.

It was as if a great spell was cast over him. Castiel fought against the darkness, the wretched drowsiness but slowly it won over him. Esther stopped her whispers and hugged him tight.

"Freya would've adored you," was the last thing he heard before he slipped into darkness.

--𝝥𝝥--

The day when Kol came to their world was a stormy day.

Maybe it was apt, the sky was dark at night and it was just noon. Castiel didn't remember much of the tv show but he somehow knew his upcoming sibling should be pleased at the chaos they've created even before birth.

Keyword should. Castiel wasn't sure what was true or not these days. Life as a toddler in some ancient time certainly had some downfalls. He couldn't remember what he has seen or what he has.

Maybe it was Achlys, fucking up with his memory. Maybe it was one of humanity's failures. Castiel would bet that it was purely mortal failures.

Honestly, centuries as a mortal, and he still doesn't understand the mortal brain. How could they live with memories as shit as the first generation camera? Such a sad existence.

Confusion aside, life went on regardless of his hysterics. One month passed to two, three and more. He saw Finn frown a lot, Ejnar lying on his back, as if done with everything and Mikel unapologetically controlling all the chaos of their village with a tight fist.

One he finds awe striking is how Mikel manhandles an army of farmers. His father had bucket loads of charisma, pretty words to use and calmness in him, which helped him in rallying the men and women in their village for anything against them.

Mikel didn't use those abilities of his very often, choosing a quiet life on his own. It was a familiar sight. Castiel had finally known who Ejnar took after.

Now, Castiel? He didn't know what to do. All he did these days was pout, sleep, try to walk on his tiny legs and listen to the family talk, repeat. Sometimes he chases the butterflies in circles, makes flowers bloom or gives Ejnar stink eye whenever he sees that boy.

His dear brother had finally found Castiel's ticklish spot that he was trying to hide. Castiel plotted revenge plans against his lovely brother.

Life wasn't exciting but it went on until he was nearly three.

One day, Ayanna had predicted a huge storm so the villagers and his family were prepared to stay indoors for a long amount of time.

Of course, this was the time when Kol decided to come to the world. Always with a bang, truly a Mikaelson.

His upcoming arrival came with lots of surprised shouts, screams of 'early Ayanna!', Mikel sweating and Mikel's shield brother- friend-hiding everything from them as much as he could. Finn and Ejnar cradled him and stayed out of the general way and silence.

Painful silence and then came a loud wail of a little person who was not pleased nor impressed by being disturbed. Castiel clasped his hands onto his ears. Thunder and lightning boomed, deafening everything for a while. The wails, as if offended, continued even louder.

"Ayanna?" Mikel creeped forward. Castiel and his brothers were separated from seeing by a large curtain. Borin- Mikel's shield brother- stood stiffly with his siblings and Castiel, his hands on Finn's shoulder.

"It's a boy," Esther whispered lightly, her voice drowned by the sudden downpour raging outside.

"Another brother," Finn's whisper was so very quiet.

Ayanna poked her head out and scowled at Mikel. "Don't interrupt me," she snapped. Mikel glared, fear carefully hidden deep under the rage. Ayanna's eyes softened a fraction. "You've a healthy boy. All Esther needs is time to heal and plenty of food and water."

Mikel exhaled. Borin let out a booming laugh, the sound echoing through their house for the moment. Lightning followed, making Ejnar and Castiel flinch towards each other. Finn tugged them towards him.

Ayanna turned her eye to the warrior. "Husband," she admonished. Borin snapped to attention and grinned sheepishly. She turned back to Castiel and his brothers who were hiding behind Borin. "You'll get to see your brother soon but be cautious and quiet, yes?" Castiel's brothers nodded. The wails of the newborn babe were silenced and murmurs of conversations filled the air.

Castiel was picked up by Mikel from Ejnar, his brothers following quietly without prompting. All of them were pale.

Castiel squirmed in Mikel's hold and stared ahead. And there he was, a tiny little red thing cradled in a makeshift cot.

He saw Esther beam at them and Castiel let out an excited shriek. He clasped his palm at his mouth, contrite, much to the amusement of Esther.

Things were changing in ways Castiel didn't understand. Some, he had no knowledge over, emotions he didn't understand. But he was as ready as he could be.

Maybe they all were destined to suffer one day, called names and maybe feared by many but for now they'll be alright. He'll make it so.

After all, it wasn't the first time he tried to fight against fate.

--𝝥𝝥--

GLOSSARY !

Sleipnir ; Sleipnir is the eight-legged horse ridden primarily by the god Odin in Norse mythology.

Thanatos ; Thanatos, in ancient Greek religion and mythology, the personification of death. He's essentially the manager/boss reaper.

Atlas ; In Greek mythology, Atlas is a Titan condemned to hold up the heavens or sky for eternity after the war with the gods and titans.

--𝝥𝝥--

Now to make some stuff clear and answer to some questions y'all asked.

1) I want to say that canon original parents are fuckin slimy abusive arseholes. Just so I'm going to write them differently here, does not mean I like or support them.

2) No i ain't gonna abandon revival, dw. Updates are late, bcz I will/can not write quickly like other writers can. My motto is a king is never late to a party, the others are simply early.

3) The curious thing abt names, our Cas calls himself Castiel in his mind. This is bcz he hasn't accepted his reincarnation as Niklaus Mikaelson. Eros is past tense, bcz he's not a god anymore. As long as he's a mortal, he'll be either Castiel or Niklaus in his mind. Hope that makes it easier for you guys.

4) Mikel/Ejnar spelling is different here, bcz he accepted their name as it is.

5) Please don't bug me with Elijah's name. Ik you guys are bothered by it, I'm too but I like Elijah being an old man in other languages. Gives him character and it's funny.

Ps, Castiel is a stray alley cat who has been violently adopted by the Mikaelsons. I live for their shenanigans.

Next chapter has time skips. And Kol. Bcz he comes with his own warning.