These Precious Things, Let Them Bleed, Let Them Wash Away

[easily]

Rebekah doesn't get it. She and Nik have always been close. Thick as thieves, really. Of all her brothers, he has always been the one she's closest to. The one she loves the most (she's not supposed to play favorites but she inevitably does). And yet lately, he seems to have no time for her. The last time there was a storm and she tried to sneak into his bed (like she always has) he rebuffed her. He told her to go to her own bed. She's a big girl now. She had felt tears threaten her eyes then but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her shed them.

And lately, instead of going into the woods with her, instead of teaching her or letting her watch him draw he spends all his other time with the girls of their village. Are they prettier than she is? They're older, more developed perhaps but she's sixteen now, she's not some little girl. Her body has developed, curved in the places it's supposed to. What do they have that she doesn't? They aren't prettier than she is, are they? One day, she sees him talking to a particular young girl (she's blonde as well but Rebekah thinks her hair is scraggly and disgusting in comparison to her own) and he gives her something. A drawing he's done of her. Rebekah seethes. He used to only draw her. It feels like a betrayal. And it isn't long until she finds herself back in their hut, pulling out all his precious charcoals and smashing them beneath her feet. It dirties her shoes and the ends of her dress but she doesn't care. All she can think of right now is making him suffer as she has.

The next day she decides to follow his example. If Nik is going to go chasing other girls she'll just do the same -- there are plenty of handsome boys in the village. After her chores are done she ends up chatting with one of them -- a young boy named Erik. He's handsome enough -- tall and fair haired. He laughs a little too loudly and he likes to keep his hand on her arm when they speak. He leans in to whisper something in her ear about how pretty she's become and she giggles, smiling almost shyly.

And then suddenly she feels a rough touch on her arm and she finds herself being dragged -- not towards their home but to the woods -- their place. Where she and Nik have always been able to talk freely. She wretches herself away from him once they're deep enough in there, her eyes filled with anger and confusion.

Comments

[poppycock]

He knew it was her the moment he found the mess. A needling of anger and annoyance had risen in him; he knew merely a moment past his shock just why Rebekah would have such a tantrum. His tempestuous little sister's desire for things to be as they were and her forlorn looks as he'd shrugged her off were enough proof of that.

He's angry, despite his actions being the cause. He's angry despite the guilt and shame buried in his chest. (Keeping away from Rebekah has been like losing a limb, but it's for her own good and he's entitled to grow up.) He's angry that she could be this petulant, this needy, this utterly inescapable force demanding from him time and attention. (He'd received a sweet kiss on the cheek for that drawing, and a smile that told him just how it was appreciated. Truthfully, it made his heart race with the knowledge that he could be wanted after all -- as a bastard. There are stories spoken in the village of one of the younger Mikaelson boys, after all, the one who is fair instead of dark. One who is a shame to his father, the one who no girl should want to marry.)

It's that irritation and anger he carries for Rebekah's antics, that anger and guilt for himself into the next day. A confrontation is imminent regardless, but when he sees that brute's hands on his sister and her naive, much too pretty smiles bestowed upon him, there's nothing that can quell the white hot rage he feels.

They's stopped close enough to the brook that he can hear the water flowing just beyond the trees. He meets her fiery gaze with a seething glare of his own.

"You owe me an apology, sister."

[easily]

It is an inevitable truth that children grow up and they're supposed to build their own lives. Someday her father would choose a husband for her -- and that'll be it. She will be given away and though she loves her brothers all very dearly she won't see them as much. That's how it's supposed to go. But the idea of separating like that, of watching Nik turn to other girls infuriating. (She saw the kiss the other girl had left on his cheek -- as if she's earned the right to do so).

It's always been the two of them. They both love their other brothers very much but their bond had always been special. Children grow up, these things change but Rebekah is selfish and petulant. She doesn't want to give up what she has, even if it would be better off for both of them if she did.

Perhaps (there is no perhaps about it) she had been trying to bait her brother by talking to another boy so publicly. But if he's allowed to start exploring options why shouldn't she? Is she not as entitled to grow up?

"For what? You haven't had time for me -- why should I go looking for someone who does?"

He's more than likely referring to the charcoals but she's a stubborn little thing and doesn't want to admit to that part just yet.