Norway, 977 AD
Magnus stood at his usual post outside the birthing room, his violet eyes distant as he monitored both the physical and magical energies surrounding his mother's labor. At nine years old, his bearing carried the gravity of someone far older, a trait that had only grown more pronounced with each passing year.
Finn and Elijah sat nearby, the former maintaining his characteristic solemnity while three-year-old Elijah watched Magnus with careful attention, mimicking his elder brother's posture unconsciously. Their father's agitated pacing filled the tense silence.
Magnus could sense something different in the magical currents this time - a wild, primal energy that spoke of more than just his mother's power. He knew what this meant, what this child would become, and the challenges that lay ahead.
"The birth is difficult," Ayana murmured as she passed by with fresh linens. "The child fights like a wolf."
Magnus caught the slight falter in Mikael's step at those words, though none but he seemed to notice. His enhanced senses detected the spike of fear in his mother's magic, the way it trembled and surged erratically.
When the baby's first cry rang out, it carried a strength that made even the hardened warriors outside pause. Magnus felt the surge of two distinct magical signatures - his mother's familiar power and something older, wilder.
"Another son!" the midwife announced, though Magnus noted the slight tremor in her voice.
As they entered the birthing room, Magnus studied his new brother intently. The infant had a shock of blonde hair, unlike their darker coloring, and eyes that already held a hint of defiance. Magnus saw Mikael's expression shift subtly as he looked at his new son, something indefinable passing across his features.
"Niklaus," Esther said quickly, before anyone else could speak. "His name is Niklaus."
Magnus approached the bed, Finn and Elijah following close behind. When he looked down at Niklaus, the baby's eyes locked onto his with surprising intensity. Where Elijah had shown recognition, Niklaus showed challenge - even as an infant, his spirit burned bright.
"Would you like to hold him?" Esther asked, though Magnus detected an unusual note of anxiety in her voice.
Without hesitation, Magnus took Niklaus into his arms. The baby immediately quieted, studying his eldest brother with remarkable focus. Magnus felt the dual nature within the child - both vampire and werewolf bloodlines lying dormant, waiting for the day they would awaken.
"Welcome, little brother," Magnus said softly, his voice carrying power that made Esther's eyes widen slightly. "You are one of us now. Always and forever."
He then did something unexpected. Still holding Niklaus securely with one arm, he reached out to clasp Elijah's small forearm, then Finn's, drawing them closer. "We are brothers," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of prophecy. "Nothing will ever change that."
Mikael watched this interaction with complex emotions playing across his face. Pride in his eldest son's leadership, love for his growing family, and something else - a shadow of doubt he couldn't quite place.
Later that night, after the celebrations had ended, Magnus stood over Niklaus's cradle. With the same care he had shown his other brothers, he performed their family gesture, clasping the infant's tiny forearm and touching their foreheads together.
"I know what storms await you, brother," he whispered. "But this time, you will not weather them alone. This time, you will know what it means to be truly part of this family."
From the shadows, Ayana observed this interaction with knowing eyes. "That one sees more than he should," she would later tell Esther. "He speaks to the infant as if he knows his destiny."
As the night deepened, Magnus maintained his vigil, violet eyes alert for any threat to his growing family. He had failed to protect Freya, but he would not fail again. This time, he would ensure that the bonds of family proved stronger than the curse of blood.