The Doppelgänger Mikaelson

Mikael stood outside Ayanna's modest yet elegant home, the moonlight casting sharp shadows over his stern, weathered features. His eyes burned with an intensity that matched the restrained fury in his rigid posture. The stillness of the night was unnerving, broken only by the soft rustling of leaves. He called out to her, his voice commanding, laced with barely concealed impatience.

"Ayanna!" His tone carried a warning, sharp and unyielding. But there was no response.

He clenched his jaw, his broad shoulders rising and falling with his measured breaths. Without hesitation, Mikael stepped forward, his boots crunching against the gravel. He placed a hand on the door, intending to push it open, but an unseen force resisted him. His hand hovered, trembling slightly as his brows knitted together in frustration. A growl of annoyance rumbled low in his throat, his pride stinging at the realization: he was barred from entry.

Then, a soft, steady voice emerged from the shadows behind him, calm yet laced with unmistakable reproach.

"I see Esther has gone ahead with her plans." Ayanna's voice carried a measured grace, tinged with bitterness. "Turned you into atrocities of nature, and now nature fights back."

Mikael turned sharply, his movements swift and deliberate. His piercing eyes locked onto Ayanna, who stood a few paces away, her posture regal despite her slight frame. She looked at him with the calm confidence of someone who had seen too much and carried the weight of ancient knowledge. Her dark eyes held no fear, only an exasperated patience, as though she had expected this confrontation.

"I am not here for your nature sermons, Ayanna," Mikael growled, his voice low and menacing. His lips curled into a scowl as he took a single step closer, the air around him charged with tension. "I want to know one thing. What did you do to my son? What did you do to change him—his body—from such a young age?"

Ayanna's expression softened slightly, but only briefly, before settling into something unreadable. She folded her arms across her chest, the edges of her lips drawing downward in a faint frown. Her eyes flicked over Mikael, her gaze sharp and assessing, as though calculating whether his question was genuine or born of blind rage.

"Sealing his magic," she said finally, her tone steady, but a subtle tremor betrayed the weight of the truth she had carried for years. "To protect him—from himself, from the world. I only sought to prevent him from practicing magic."

Mikael's nostrils flared, and the thin thread of control he had been holding onto snapped. His face twisted in fury, the veins in his neck bulging as his true face began to surface. His pale skin stretched, his features grotesquely sharpened. His eyes turned a bright, menacing red, and his fangs glinted in the moonlight as he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Who are you," Mikael snarled, his voice a guttural growl, "to decide the fate of my son?"

Before Ayanna could react, Mikael moved with vampiric speed, a blur in the night, and was suddenly inches from her. His hand shot out and gripped her neck, his fingers tightening like a vice. The force lifted her off the ground slightly, her heels scraping against the gravel as she struggled to balance herself.

Ayanna's eyes widened momentarily, a flash of pain and surprise flickering across her face before her composure returned. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her hands instinctively grasped at Mikael's wrist, though she did not struggle against his strength. She tilted her head slightly, her gaze locking with his, defiant even in her vulnerability.

Mikael's grip tightened as his crimson eyes bore into hers, his face inches away. "You sealed my son's potential? You dared to strip him of his birthright?" His voice cracked with anger, and his hand trembled slightly, not from weakness, but from the storm of emotions threatening to consume him.

Ayanna's breaths were shallow as Mikael's hand tightened around her neck. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, betraying her calm exterior, but her eyes never wavered from his crimson gaze. The moonlight illuminated her face, casting shadows that only deepened the sharp determination etched into her features. She didn't struggle—her composure was unnerving. There was no fear in her expression, only a deep, haunting sorrow that lingered in the depths of her dark eyes.

Her voice came, low and rasping against the constriction of his grip, yet it carried an unyielding strength. "I did what I was told, Mikael," she said, her tone firm despite the strain. "Ivar was a threat—his immense talent, his hunger for war, his ability to command fear and awe without magic. Even without it, men called him the God of War. Do you know what it's like to see a child destined to reshape the world in chaos? I sealed him to protect us all."

Her lips trembled faintly, but she pressed them together as if to suppress the emotions threatening to spill out. "And now," she continued, her voice softer, her gaze flickering with regret, "I fear more than ever what he will become. Esther's transformation... she has turned your son into something unnatural, something unimaginable. You think the world feared Ivar before? Imagine him now—an atrocity crafted by her hands."

Mikael's grip faltered slightly at her words, but the intensity in his eyes didn't waver. Instead, a smirk twisted his lips, sharp and cold, as though her warnings amused him. Slowly, he loosened his hold, allowing Ayanna to fall to the ground. She landed on her feet, stumbling slightly but quickly regaining her balance. Her hand instinctively went to her neck, massaging the reddened skin, though her gaze never left his.

"That," Mikael said, his voice low and filled with dark pride, "is why I'm proud to be his father. My son strikes fear in the hearts of men, even without magic. Now, with what he has become, he is unstoppable."

He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. The smirk on his face faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression as he leaned in, his breath ghosting against her ear. His voice dropped to a whisper, but the menace in his tone was unmistakable.

"I am here to warn you, Ayanna," he said, each word deliberate, like a blade slicing through the air. "Never, in your pitiful life, interfere with matters concerning my family again. Or I will give you a fate worse than death."

Ayanna's eyes widened slightly, the faintest hint of a shudder passing through her as his words settled over her like a heavy shroud. She swallowed hard, her lips parting as though to speak, but Mikael didn't give her the chance. In an instant, he disappeared, vanishing into the shadows like a phantom.

The night returned to its eerie stillness, the only sound the rustling of leaves and Ayanna's labored breaths. Her hand lingered at her neck as she stared into the darkness where Mikael had stood moments before. Her expression was unreadable, but the faint glimmer of tears threatened to spill, only to be blinked away with a determined set of her jaw. She straightened her posture, her regal demeanor returning, though her shoulders sagged slightly under the weight of the encounter.

The moonlight bathed the scene in an ethereal glow as Ayanna turned, her face hardening with resolve. The confrontation had left its mark, but it would not break her.