Irina Romanov is (fortheloveofwar) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2020-12-31 12:10:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !closed, ~2020 december, ~~irina romanov (fortheloveofwar), ~~klaus mikaelson (orighybrid) |
Who: Irina and Klaus
What: Klaus meets up with his wayward daughter
When: Her arrival day
Where: The casino
Warning: semi TBD
Status: GDoc continued in comments
Irina had been uprooted from her penthouse in Manhattan and her office in New Jersey and placed in the midwest. The Russian princess was not. Happy. She had nothing. Was entirely out of place. And was expected to live in an apartment building. Ridiculous! Fortunately, she wasn’t alone in her misery. It would have made this a lot more entertaining if her brat of a brother was forced to be here, but Niklaus was a pleasant surprise.
She hadn’t seen her sire in centuries, not since she chose her brother over him. A mistake, in hindsight. Not one she would admit to anyone. She barely admitted it to herself, and certainly not to Alexei. Her brother would have gloated. More than once she’d been glad she had his beloved wife killed. Those thoughts went through her mind as she waited for Niklaus at the bar in the casino. The bartender was compelled to pay her tab. A small satisfaction.
***
Klaus had been surprised to see Irina had arrived, but he’d been here long enough to know that this place did ridiculous things sometimes. He wasn’t sure yet if he was glad to see her - he had his pride hurt when she had chosen her brother over him and he was well known to hold grudges for a long time.
Still, he’d had enough metaphorical daggers in the heart in the past week or so that he was happy to have someone to talk to who wasn’t Hayley or Caroline.
He arrived at the bar not long after she did, and scooted into the seat beside her. He appeared the same, of course, except for a subtle softening around the eyes that had come with the birth of Hope. He was the same person, and yet he was not. Fatherhood had changed him. For the first time in his life, he knew what unconditional love felt like, and that realization had been transcendental.
He ordered a drink, then looked over at her.
“Irina.”
***
Her pale blue eyes slid to the side when she saw him take the seat next to her. A knowing smile curled the corners of her lips, but she didn’t say anything. Not yet. She wanted to see what he would say or do, first. The differences were easy enough to see even without looking directly at him. He looked...vulnerable. Interesting.
When he ordered a drink Irina locked eyes with the bartender and nodded. Anything he ordered would now be on her...or rather the bartender’s...tab as well. Then, when Klaus finally spoke, Irina turned to look fully at him.
“Niklaus,” she replied with a sensual smile. “You look...horrible.”
***
“I appreciate that,” he said wryly, taking a swig of his drink and ignoring the burn that scorched his throat when he did. He didn’t expect her to understand what he’d been through the past few weeks, and he certainly didn’t want to talk about it.
“You look lovely, as always.”
Her looks had never been the problem. Her stubbornness had. That, and her refusal to leave her brother and her home behind.
**
“You saw to that,” she said, her smile becoming a smirk. “Something that has served me very well over the years.” Irina had learned early that having a pretty face worked in her favor. She used it to deadly success. Foolish men always underestimated her, and meanwhile she took everything they thought to keep away from her.
Except for her brother. Bastard.
“But tell me,” she said as she reached out to twine of his curls around a fingernail. Only she would be so bold as to touch him without permission. “What has you so troubled? Who must I teach a lesson to?” Her Russian origins held a firm grip on her accent.
***
“I have no doubt that it did,” he said, self-satisfied. He liked to think of himself as a good sire. He turned people in their prime, when they would have beauty for the rest of eternity - or at least until they got themselves killed. He’d been lucky he had been an adult when his mother had turned him - if he hadn’t been, he didn’t think she would have minded.
“It’s nothing,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as she fondled one of his curls. He wouldn’t strike out at her like he would at most, but that still didn’t mean he had to like it.
“And no one needs taught lessons. Unless, perhaps, it is me. I seem to have made several mistakes lately.”
He admitted that like it was a novelty, and something he had no experience with whatsoever.
***
She tilted her head as she looked at his hair, her fingernail still fussing with a lock. “It looked better longer,” she commented. “Not terribly longer, but better than this.” It was almost as if they had seen each other last week instead of three centuries ago.
Irina snorted delicately for what he said. She took her hand back in lieu of her drink. “Nonsense.” She paused for a drink. “If you made a mistake then surely it was because someone tried you when they shouldn’t have. But do tell, dearest.”
As she took another drink as she turned more to face Niklaus. One, stiletto clad foot came to rest on the bar on his barstool, right next to his ankle. Ploys. Every move. Every word, was calculated to keep the topic on him and not her or her blasted brother.
***
“This is what is fashionable now,” he said simply. He dressed and styled himself to the fashions of the time, so he did not stick out or look strange next to all the mortals. There were definitely things he liked a great deal about the fashions in this day - jeans, for one, and the simplicity of dressing. One could do it all by oneself, unlike in other points in history.
Klaus didn’t want to talk of the mistakes he’d made. Novel though they might be, they also hurt and he had no desire to rehash them.
Instead, he grinned slightly at the touch of her foot and gave her a long, smoldering look. He knew what she was doing, of course he did, but it didn’t make him any less hungry for what she had to offer.
“I suppose you came here from Russia, then? Still with your brother?”
***
“A slave to fashion,” she said with a smirk. “You. Fascinating. What else has changed?” He made a mistake. Now he’s keeping to fashions. Dear lord. What had happened to her sire?
Irina pulled out a platinum case, then a cigarette from within it. The bartender began to tell her she couldn’t smoke in here, but one look from her stopped him. A rock glass with water in it was placed in front of her as she lit her cigarette.
The smoke was exhaled sharply for Klaus’ question. “No. I’m afraid Alexei is somewhat cross with me at the moment. He sent me to one of our American offices to bring them to heel. Someone thought they could cook the books and we wouldn’t notice.”
***