#and by the fact that the current god king is a rotting corpse being held up by fishing line and duct tape!!!

[tinkkles]

Every time there's like a major event signalling the impending downfall of our democracy I have to do my silly little recurring meeting with my lead and be like "yeah I'm hanging in there, crazy news this week 🙂" and it's just so incredibly clear that he has no idea what I'm talking about and has never bothered to even tangentially care about politics not once in his life

[inb4belphienaps]

Torschlusspanik

“How old are you really?”

Truthfully, he doesn’t know. A part of him wishes he’d kept track but it’s a hassle when all your time and energy is spent on far greater things.

If he were to think back on it, his age would probably be defined by the people he’d met and grown to love along the way. His friends and acquaintances and the ones who had been very dear to him.

He can see them all in his mind. Their faces and voices blending into one as he recalls stories and conversations and wonderful ideas they’d exchanged. Time hadn’t been kind to them. Not as kind as it should have been at least. They’d been ravaged. He’d seen them fade, trapped in their own minds, seen them driven to extinction by the search for power.

Yes, it was a funny thing – power. Those blessed with it tend to be quite satisfied with their lives, finding meaning in even the littlest things. Those who wish to obtain it are instead turned to madness, whether along the journey or at the end, when they realize that satisfaction is but a nonsensical concept invented for the weak.

Solomon isn’t sure where he fits in. He’d been blessed with a natural talent, gifts of magical aptitude that could leave many speechless. He’d also obtained his current abilities through years of searching and wondering and finding. New lands, new discoveries, new predicaments. They had been so fascinating, so enveloping at first. He could be seen positively enraptured in the world and all that it had to offer him. So many things it had to offer.

His appetite never wavered. With each dawn, another quest, another trip into the unknown. With each twilight, another question, another problem to be solved.

Luckily, he wasn’t always alone. One particular name stands out. Frankenstein. A handsome and invigorating man with an attitude that did little to soothe him.

Frankenstein had dazzled him with his wit and courage and…lack for better word, insanity. As brilliant as he was, the man had had several screws loose. That didn’t make him any less charming or passionate. In fact, some say it may have helped.

Buried in books and beakers, he never sat still. At some point, they’d convinced themselves that they held the universe in their hands. Just them two. Gods, he’d said.

Why then did he disappear?

He wasn’t dead, no. He wasn’t the type to do something like that. In his heart, Solomon knows that he’s still out there, eyes glinting in the moonlight. He knows that Frankenstein is fighting a battle with himself. Disregarding the other soul residing in him, he knows that there is doubt in that very human body of his. Impulsivity can only do so much in the face of doubt and hesitation.

How old would he be now?

Would they recognize each other? Or would they be strangers once more? Deformed and beaten by the growing passage of time? He thinks that would be more likely. The soul isn’t immune. Although the vessel may appear pristine and well-kept, the soul, however fractured it may be, will show bits and pieces of itself within the mirage.

There is no hiding those marks. Which is why he prefers to have his vessel reflect them. To a more conservative degree, definitely, yet to a degree all the same. The scars and patterns on his skin are littered with meaning. Self-inflicted pain describing moments in his life that he cannot forget. Mistakes and triumphs. Ecstasy and over-indulgence. Sorrow and regret. Trials and tribulations aplenty.

A few close calls. Brushes with death that in hindsight seem impossible. How had he survived them? He may forget…

Except when the night is blanketed in silence, or when the tide creeps in away from the morning sun, he is reminded of the terror. Flashes of light, effervescent, and a scream. Perhaps his own. The brain, as he so often finds, cannot be fooled. Deep within the entanglement of your subconscious and conscious, there is no trickery. No illusions to hide behind or whimsical acts of surrealism. Humanity is flawless in that regard.

He wishes to outrun it. To outsmart is so entirely that he doesn’t have to look back.

Gods, he’d said. Had it been a promise? A desire? A selfishness? Deep in his heart he wishes it were true. To be untouchable. Revered across realms and entrusted with the loyalty of many. Individually, they are insignificant. Together, they are a force to be reckoned with. A god needs followers. Worshippers are a bonus, an add-on. Followers – they are the wind, carrying his word, lifting him to newer heights, going to inconceivable lengths to believe.

What is a king to a god?

What is a god to a non-believer?

When he’d abandoned the idea of heaven and challenged the fallen in hell, he’d clung to a hope that it would be all for whatever followed greatness. For whatever came above it. Beyond it.

However, with each pact grew his greed. And his boredom. That hunger of his was insatiable. Knowledge seemed trivial, a thing of the past. Something he coveted but something he no longer went out of his way to obtain. Circle by circle, he descended evermore into the darkness.

You were just another human. He watched as people threw themselves at you. He watched as you harnessed your gift. He watched as your expression grew warm.

He began to see, to feel again. The beauty of emotion came flooding his senses, dulling the ache, pushing away the emptiness. His heart beats ever steady in his chest, only, it beats for you.

The rhythm in his veins sings to the tune of your likeness and he feels…love. An all-encompassing concoction of dignity. He forgets about the monsters and the skeletons in his closet. He’s too focused, too engaged in the way you speak and the way you hold your breath. In the way your brows furrow, your lips purse, how they send sparks through him. He begins to learn. He begins to remember.

And then…comes the fear.

The fear of death and the fear of being forgotten.

If there is no one left to whisper his name, it will be as if he never walked the Earth in the first place. What is a legend but a fable on the lips of believers? What is a myth but a story written in the tongue of dreamers?

A rotting corpse, a dying shell. Slotted in alongside others like him who had failed to achieve the very same goal that mocks him. Ever further he goes, ever stronger it laughs.

And so, you, like so many before you, are there to tell him it’s okay. That you will remember him. And that, in itself, is enough.

He will continue to ponder, eventually taking your word for it. He will thank you as he holds your hand in his, smiling in that way that has even the stars smitten.

[invertedeidolon]

The Longest Library #4: The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle (Or, Eidolon feels their OTHER age just a little too clearly and needs a nap now)

(This is a series in which I attempt to read and review all (or most of) my library of 297 books.)

Rundown: A unicorn gets lost in that thing that happens where you exist in a weird, neverending pocket of time and when you finally leave your room your family is like 'oh my god we haven't seen you in three months! The dog died while you were gone!' except for her she doesn't look like hell because she's a Fucking Unicorn, but she does figure out that literally every other member of her race has gone missing from the world. She travels with a baby-faced magic man and a bitter but not yet broken older woman to find out where the hell everyone is. 5/5, makes me feel ancient and tired but no longer lonely.

So as a reader, almost all of these reviews (more like reflections) are just that: reflections of myself. So I'll be talking a bunch about the things that spoke to me and my soul. It might not necessarily speak to others in the same ways, with the same words, however, my ratings are based on how enjoyable I think others might find them, and I hope that in seeing that something could speak so richly and deeply to me, that others might give it a chance in the hopes that it might speak to them too.

This is a book that speaks in my language. It's a way of describing things that's a step to the left of your average descriptions, but the images they invoke are visceral and heavily textured.

From the very first page:

"She did not look anything like a horned horse, as unicorns are often pictured, being smaller and cloven-hoofed, and possessing that oldest, wildest grace that horses have never had, that deer have only in a shy, thin imitation and goats in dancing mockery"

God damn. God DAMN. Mmm. Tasty.

"The door did not swing open, and the iron bars did not thaw into starlight. But the harpy lifted her wings, and the four sides of the cage fell slowly away and down, like the petals of some great flower waking at night. And out of the wreckage the harpy bloomed, terrible and free, screaming, her hair swinging like a sword. The moon withered and fled."

AUGH. FUCK. YES. FUCK ME UP, PETER. MMM.

"The magic knows what it wants to do, he thought, bouncing as the horse dashed across a creek. But I never know what it knows. Not at the right time, anyway, I'd write a letter, if I knew where it lived."

So, Schmendrick (the baby faced magic man I mentioned before) has the same feelings about his magical talents as I have about my own, magic or no. My own magic comes and it goes. It's incredibly intuitive in nature and almost refuses to yield to order, logic, or ceremony. Same with my art, my writing, or anything that comes from the spirit. Even things like expressing my emotions feel this way. It's there when it's there, and it's not when it's not, and it's not when it's there. It doesn't feel like a part of me at times, despite being the purest description of my own soul when it decides to take form. Like an absent parent that never once hugged you but knows exactly what kind of candy bar you currently like and that you're nervous about your first boyfriend and the way he talks to you sometimes and how lonely things are getting. I grow resentful for it's absence, and have not grown welcoming to it's presence. It's something that needs to be worked on soon. In fact, Molly's sentiments on first seeing the unicorn kind of describe it pretty well:

"And what good is it to me that you're here now? Where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? How dare you, how dare you come to me now, when I am this?" With a flap of her hand she summed herself up; barren face, desert eyes, and yellowing heart. "I wish you had never come, why do you come now?"

That has always been a powerful moment that whenever I see it in the movie (and especially having finally gotten to read it in the book), I've come to understand it deeper, and deeper. Only now realizing that I've lost an entire decade of my life to a violently interrupted life and feeling like if my talents weren't stifled by years spent crying, in pain, and not really wishing to be dead but wishing I Weren't, I could be ten years ahead. And only now does it come to me, in fits and starts, when I've been displaced and scattered and turned to half-a-person, not when I called desperately to it, needing something, anything stronger than me, and being given nothing. Why now? I've gone far enough without you. Molly forgives her. I myself become pale with a feeling of unworthiness.

"The rind of the country cracked, and the flesh of it peeled back into gullies and ravines or shriveled into scabby hills."

There's just so much TEXTURE in a lot of these descriptions. I feel like the background artists in the movie could have done something a bit darker and grimier, although the movie did skip over the fact that the land was in a magically induced famine, to technically it wasn't relevant. Although I feel like the land itself being so scarred makes the king and his whole atmosphere come into sharper focus.

"Drinn opened his eyes and gave her an angry look. 'WE earned nothing," He protested. "It was our parents and grandparents whom the witch asked for help, and I'll grant you that they were as much to blame as Haggard, in their way. We would have handled the matter quite differently." And every middle-aged face scowled at every older face.

Boomers.

"The magician stood erect, menacing the attackers with demons, metamorphoses, paralyzing ailments, and secret judo holds. Molly picked up a rock."

Not going to lie, this part made me laugh.

"No hooves could have made these, Molly thought dazedly; the earth had torn itself shrinking from the burden of the Bull. She thought of the unicorn, and her heart paled."

"The Red Bull did not know her, and yet she could feel that it was herself he sought, and no white mare. Fear blew her dark then, and she ran away, while the Bull's raging ignorance filled the sky and spilled over into the valley."

The descriptions of the Bull especially capture just how heavy and menacing and seemingly mindlessly terrifying it is, not just physically (which is very effectively communicated mind you) but psychologically. The unicorn's terror is my own. There's no fear like the root of you realizing the person in front of you is intent on soul-murder, yet wholly ignorant of their own deeds. Being run down and forced to submit, forced to die, and realizing the blind, animal nature of your attacker. It's how they are. Like blaming a wolf for eating cattle. It can't be reasoned with.

"If she would try one more time to escape- but she was the Bull's and not her own. The magician had one glimpse of her, pale and lost between the pale horns, before the wild red shoulders surged across his sight. Then, swaying and sick and beaten, he closed his eyes and let his hopelessness march through him, until something woke somewhere that had wakened in him once before. He cried aloud, for fear and joy.

What words the magic spoke this second time, he never knew surely. They left him like eagles, and he let them go; and when the last one was away, the emptiness rushed back with a thunderclap that threw him on his face. It happened as quickly as that. This time he knew before he picked himself up that the power had been and gone."

You know, doing anything that has to do with having a soul is exactly this exhausting sometimes. I get excited and talk about my interests more energetically than none? I feel like I just shouted it at the top of my lungs and violently shook the person I was talking to by the shoulders. They say I was even toned, quiet even, but I'm out of breath and my heart is in my throat and I feel a little sick in the arms from it.

"For a moment she turned in a circle, staring at her hands, which she held high and useless, close to her breast. She bobbed and shambled like an ape doing a trick, and her face was the silly, bewildered face of a joker's victim. And yet she could make no move that was not beautiful. Her trapped terror was more lovely than any joy that Molly had ever seen, and that was the most terrible thing about it."

*sips the words like fine wine* *inhales through their teeth* MMMmm fuck yeah~

"I am myself still. This body is dying, I can feel it rotting all around me. How can anything that is going to die be real? How can it be truly beautiful?"

See, I have the opposite problem, where I feel like I've been long dead, and people keep digging up my corpse and forcing me to walk on broken, stringy legs, the moist, forgiving soil not even yet dried. I can feel it living all around me. How can anything that is going to live be unreal? How can it be truly horrific? I'm supposed to be a memory by now.

"Prince Lir's face bent toward her: older by five dragons, but handsome and silly still."

I love impactful but unconventional measurements of time and space like this. More of these please. 'You've been gone since seven arguments ago! And you know how slow the old man is to anger.' 'I've aged by three national crises in the span of two weeks, please help.'

"...holding her voice together like the edges of a wound."

*licks the goddamn wine glass like an animal* MMPH

"There was too much to hold, too much ever to use; and still he found himself weeping with the pain of his impossible greed. He thought, or said, or sang, I did not know that I was so empty, to be so full."

"I have been mortal, and some part of me is mortal yet. I am full of tears and hunger and the fear of death, though I cannot weep, and I want nothing, and I cannot die. I am not like the others now, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but I do. I regret."

I have been small, and some part of me is small yet. I am full of terror, and hunger of death, though I cannot utter a noise, and I cannot die.

Please read this book.

Have a song that I really like and will likely make an old-fashioned AMV out of it at some point.

4 down 293 to go.

[eternityunicorn]

Elijah’s Eternity: Part Twenty + 18

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/Fantasy/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Warnings: Violence, Language, Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: Elijah Mikaelson didn’t know what to expect when he encountered the strange archer in the night, but he certainly didn’t think his whole world would be turned upside down by it. Yet, he quickly learns that she is more than what she seems, having come looking for an Original after a large spike in supernatural being populations started cropping up on Earth a thousand years ago. Now, he must help her decide if the supernatural community should stay on their home planet or leave it for good? A task that is made more complicated along the way, as his life is changed forever.

NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series. 

———————————————————————————————————

There was a forest a distance away from the bed and breakfast. It was here that Niklaus lead Elijah. Elijah kept some distance between him and his brother. This was because he had ended up dragging the body of the dead delivery man into the woods behind him, to a place that he hoped the Mitchells wouldn’t discover it. Niklaus teased and mocked him the whole time for caring about the body’s discovery, annoying Elijah to no end. 

Of course his brother wouldn’t understand. Niklaus cared for nothing or nobody, unless they proved useful to his plots and plans. Caring and loving others was simply not something that interested his little brother. After all, it was Niklaus who had once told him that love was a vampire’s greatest weakness and that they were not weak. It was so like the hybrid to view love as a weakness, when loving and caring for others was in fact a great strength. 

Or at least, that was what Elijah wanted to believe. Despite his own wicked deeds throughout his existence, he still held hope that his brother was wrong about caring for others being a weakness. He was optimistic to the idea of love - and redemption -, which was why he was with Eternity in the first place.

Speaking of Eternity, Elijah wondered if she’d come looking for him, once she realized he wasn’t  at the bed and breakfast. He also wondered if she would be able to sense Niklaus’s presence and if that would draw her near faster. Part of him hoped she would come, but another dreaded it, especially with a corpse being involved. Though, at least, he hadn’t been the cause of the man’s death.

Still, he couldn’t help but to women what she would do should she come and see it or if she discovered the blood that was currently staining the Mitchells’ porch? Elijah didn’t really want to find out, fearing for his brother despite everything, but whatever might happen seemed unavoidable with his reckless brother around. He would be powerless to stop Eternity from serving justice for the innocent death.

“So, brother, tell me what it is you want now?” Elijah asked Niklaus impatiently, when they had stopped deep inside the woods. 

Niklaus frowned at him, feigning hurt, “There’s no need to be rude. I haven’t come to start a fight or anything of that ilk.”

“I don’t know,” he looked down at the corpse. “I think your actions say otherwise.”

“Ah, he’s just a poor sod that was at the right place at the wrong time,” his brother responded dismissively. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone all heroic and plan on avenging the innocent death?” His tone was mocking and he laughed cruelly.

“It is not me that you should concern yourself with when avenging the innocent death,” Elijah said with a glare toward his nonchalant brother.

Realization dawned upon Niklaus’s face at Elijah’s meaning. “Ah yes, your little girlfriend,” he said, a mysterious twinkle in his eyes appearing then. “Leave it to my suave older brother, the Nobel Elijah, to fall in love with a literal goddess. Of course, it would be you to be so lucky, brother. You were always the most regal amongst us.” He chuckled slightly, humor written all over his smug face. “But it is quite fascinating that not only is she a goddess, but a powerful queen of the greatest kingdom there is; a cosmic monarch. Plan of becoming her king perhaps, Elijah? A god king maybe? It’s what I would strive for, in your position.”

“How did you -.”

“Know about her?” Niklaus interjected with an impish grin. “I have my sources. Besides, it’s not like the two of you have been exactly ‘under the radar’. The rescue of that abducted child on the side of the highway, for example. You compelled the boy’s deranged father to forget you, but left the child unaltered to tell anyone about his mystical rescuers. Then there’s your time in Chicago, not everyone was made to forget there either. Those nonconforming witches, specifically. From there, word spread around: the Original and the goddess queen. If the two of you were looking to be discreet, you’ve certainly missed the mark.”

It didn’t quite add up what he was saying. So, there were a few alleged loose ends that hadn’t been tied up, but how did Niklaus hear about any of it, if he was supposedly across the country dealing with a witch uprising? Who told him about these events? Spies perhaps? That might make sense. But then there was the details of Eternity station in life, those things that nobody could possibly know, outside of himself. What the hell was going on? Why was Niklaus there in Broken Arrow? What game was he playing at?

“You look at me with such suspicion, such mistrust,” Niklaus observed with a frown and those big hurt eyes that he got whenever anyone thought negatively of him, especially family, despite them having good reason to be cautious. “Brother, I am hurt that you would look upon me in such a way.” He pouted slightly.

“Well, forgive me, Niklaus, if I am wary of your motivations for being here,” replied Elijah. “It is odd that you somehow discovered what Eternity is and came here upon making said discovery, when your business is supposed to be elsewhere. So, my question is why are you here? What do you seek from her? How do you know about her?”

Niklaus threw his hands up in surrender with a grin upon his lips, “I’m afraid, my lips are sealed as to the how, but as to what I want, I want nothing from your lady love, Elijah. However, I do wish to give you one last chance to join my cause.”

“Why?”

“Because if you do not join me, brother, then I cannot be held responsible for what comes next.”

The way that Niklaus said those words was one of vague threat. There was also a mystery there, as if he were hiding something. What was it that his brother had planned? What would be coming exactly, if he refused his brother again? What had Niklaus done? 

Elijah’s body tensed with trepidation. First, his brother had somehow found out about Eternity. Then he was threatening him with some vague consequence if he didn’t join the cause. Nothing good ever came from such a threat spilled from Niklaus’s lips. Only destruction and death - heartbreak.

Angry coursed through Elijah then, as he anticipated the misery that his brother was no doubt going to try and bring upon him for simply refusing to help in his schemes. Little did Niklaus know that he was, in fact, coming to his aid, but on his own terms. However, at that moment, he wanted to not follow through with his help. 

Hell, so angry was he that Elijah refused to even tell Niklaus the truth. It wouldn’t do him any good anyway. His brother felt wronged and therefore, punishment was in order, no matter what the truth was. The infamous hybrid was going to try to destroy his love with Eternity. How he was going to go about it, Elijah didn’t know. But what he did know was that as in past instances, his little brother was going to try and manipulate him back into his world of pain and loneliness yet again. He was going to get rid of the perceived obstacle - in this case, Eternity, and break Elijah’s will in the process. 

“What have you done, Niklaus?” Elijah growled, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

“Oh, it’s not what I have done, but what I will do, if you refuse me again,” Niklaus smirked.

Elijah’s famous control was lost then. He attacked his brother, punching him across his smug face with all his strength. Niklaus went flying into the trees that stood behind him, crashing through them from the force of Elijah’s punch. 

“For centuries, I have stood by you, protecting you, aiding you in all your wicked endeavors,” Elijah shouted, as his brother slowly got to his feet, “and yet whenever I or Rebecca or Kol or any of us have found a bit of happiness for ourselves, you do whatever you possibly can to rip it away from us! You can’t stand letting anyone be happy! No, you need to ensure we all stay as miserable as you are!”

“Is that a no, brother?” Niklaus chuckled, that smug expression still evident, as he wiped away the blood at the corner of his mouth. 

“You can go rot in your own misery alone, brother,” retorted Elijah, pointing an finger at him. “I will not let you get between us. You won’t make me as miserable as you, not again.”

Still, his brother remained unperturbed by his anger, which angered Elijah even more. Niklaus stood up straight with a secretive smirk as he calmly said, “You’re pathetic. You side with a woman you barely know, instead of your own blood. You don’t know enough about her to trust her completely. It’s a foolish move to trust anyone you only just met. You don’t know what secrets she might be keeping close to the heart, ones that could one day break your own heart.”

“You know nothing, brother. Eternity isn’t like you or me,” defended Elijah, seeing the attempt at manipulation plainly. “If you knew her, you would see light, something we haven’t seen in a thousand years, living as the monsters we are. She is good and brave and certainly not a villain, not like we are. We’re villains, because we have maimed and tortured and murdered as we please. That is not her. She is hope, a light in the dark, and you cannot poison me against her. I will not let your attempt at manipulating me back to your miserable side to succeed.” He growled lowly, “You can take your manipulations and leave my sight.”

Niklaus’s smugness faded into a scowl. He must have finally realized that Elijah wouldn’t be won to his side, that his tricks wouldn’t work this time. “Fine, brother,” he grumbled unpleasantly. “Have it your way, but remember you brought this upon yourself.”

With that, Niklaus sped away. 

At that same moment, Eternity appeared with a look of deep concern on her pretty face. The first thing she noticed was the corpse of the delivery man, not too far away from where Elijah stood. Her concern only deepened as she went over to the body and knelt down in that graceful way of hers. Yet, to Elijah’s surprise, she didn’t look accusingly at him.

Still, he watched her, fearing that she would think that he had done the deed; that he had killed an innocent man. Yet, she only looked back at him with a brief look of understanding, before turning back to the dead man. She knew that he hadn’t been the one to commit such a heinous act.

Putting her fore and middle fingers upon the man’s forehead and closing her eyes in concentration, Eternity used her powers to resurrect the delivery man. It took a considerable amount of energy, but once the deed was done, the man gasped back to life. His eyes shot open as he did. Instantly, the man was scrabbling to his feet, looking about him wildly - fearfully.

Eternity went to the human slowly, with her hands up to show she meant no harm to him. Quietly, she calmed the man and once he was still, she compelled him to forget the traumatic events that had occurred, including his own death. Then she sent the man off on his way. Once the guy was gone, she turned her concern toward him.

“Elijah,” she quietly called.

Instantly, he was before her, crushing her to him. Elijah needed the contact, needed her to ground his whirlwind emotions that spiraled. “Eternity,” he whispered into her hair. 

She pulled back a bit to look at him. “I saw the blood on the porch,” she said, “and you were gone. I took care of the blood, so that the old ones don’t see it. What happened? Why are you out here?”

“You didn’t sense him?” Elijah asked surprisedly, to which he received a confused look. “Niklaus, he was here,” he then explained. “He killed the delivery man and demanded that I chatted with him. I should have known better than to listen to his drivel.” He gritted his teeth in agitation.

“I didn’t feel Klaus, no,” said Eternity, her brows furrowing in confusion. “How odd. What did he have to say this time?”

Elijah sighed heavily, not wanting to speak a word of the nonsense that Niklaus spoke. “I don’t know what exactly he plans,” he spoke anyway, “but whatever it is, it shall be in attempt to tear you and I apart, this much I know. All because I refused to aid his cause, to stand by his side. All because I choose someone else over him for once in my miserable existence.”

“How could he split us apart?” Eternity responded incredulously, finding the notion ridiculous. “He has not the power to tear us from each other. Nobody does.” She smiled gently at him, trying to comfort him.

Elijah smiled back, but he couldn’t help the worry that surely crept up in his expression. “I want to believe that, but it’s unsettling. Niklaus knew you, knew of your station, what you are. How could he possibly know that? He was knowledgeable when he shouldn’t have been. I fear something terrible is going on. There’s something he’s hiding. My brother is a vengeful creature, especially whenever he feels wronged. It’s only a matter of time before he reveals whatever it is he’s planning on doing.”

For a brief moment, a look of deep worry crossed her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Bravely, Eternity grabbed his hands in hers tightly and assuredly told him, “Whatever happens, we will face it together. Our relationship is still growing, but know that I love you, Elijah. I will fight for you, for us. Do not let Niklaus’s scheme, whatever it may be, steal your happiness - our happiness.”

Elijah kissed her then with all the passion he could muster, just to calm his chaotic thoughts. While Eternity returned his kiss enthusiastically, she remained tense under his hands. Out of concern, he pulled back to look into her pale face that looked even paler and noticed the sadness mixed with the fear in her sapphire eyes. She looked away, refusing to meet his gaze.

“What is it, my love?” Elijah asked, cupping the side of her face gently and bringing her eyes back to his. 

Eternity smiled weakly, “Forgive me. I’m simply concerned about Niklaus - and more importantly, Loki. Yes, I banished the Trickster, but as I feared, his scheme is still in motion. Your brother is involved, it’s too much of a coincidence for him not to be.”

His brows furrowed at her in confusion. 

“Think about it,” she told him. “First, Loki shows up here amongst a werewolf pack. Now, Niklaus has done the same, not even a full day later, speaking of me as if he’s been feed information. Loki must have told your brother that you were here - told him about me. How else would he know where to find you? Why would he speak his discoveries about me to you? Then there’s how fast Niklaus arrived. Loki must have helped him get here.”

“But you said you trapped Loki. How could he help Niklaus?”

Eternity gave a short, bitter laugh, “You do not know Loki like I do. He’s called the Trickster for a reason. He might be trapped, but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t capable of executing his plans from prison. He is powerful, one of the most powerful immortals outside of myself and one other. His powers could reach across two universes easily. I’m not so naive as to think that he’s completely defeated. Though, I always have hope. True, he won’t be back to harass us, but that doesn’t mean he can’t find another to do his bidding - to reign chaos down upon us.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah whispered his brother’s name, his jaw clenching as he did. 

“Your brother might finally get that world domination, if he’s made a pact with Loki.”

His body ran cold at the thought, “I fear for this world, if that is the case.”

“Aye. As do I.”

Elijah stepped back from Eternity then. He turned away with one hand shoved into his pants pocket and the first two fingers of his other brushing against his lips in thought. He suddenly wondered what they should do? Should they stay the course they set or should they go looking for Niklaus, to stop whatever madness he planned to unleash? 

Unable to come up with an answer, he turned back to Eternity and asked, “So, what do we do?”

“Let’s finish our mission here,” she answered, a small smile creeping up as she did. “I’ve never been one for leaving a mission unfinished and it’ll take whatever your brother has planned time anyway, especially with Loki out of range, so to speak. We have a little time before all hell breaks loose. Once we settle things here, we can go find Niklaus and deal with his scheme.”

Her smile, no matter how small, was infectious. Elijah found himself returning it with one of his own. Immediately, he reached for her, drawing her to him. He kissed her lips again, finding her more relaxed this time as he did, which made him happy. 

“I love you,” he whispered against her mouth. “Always and forever.”

Her smile widened and she giggled cutely. The tension lifted a bit between them. Loki and Niklaus were quickly going far from their minds, and Elijah was glad for that. Peace for them, even if only for a short time.

“We should head back to the house,” Eternity murmured. “The Mitchells’ will be worried and I’d rather not be responsible for causing their hearts to give out from the stress. Mortals are so very fragile and I happen to be fond of our hosts.”

“In a minute,”  replied Elijah, kissing her lips more passionately than before.

She returned his kiss with vigor and before long, their passion was ignited. The flames of it burned through Elijah so sweetly that all thoughts but one left him. He had to have her. The stress of Niklaus and Loki certainly played a part in his sudden need for her and he was sure it was the same for her. And like that night in the Blood Rose Club, he didn’t care where they were, only that it had to right there, right then.

Instantly, Elijah had her shoved against the nearest tree, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he did. She grunted slightly from the force of it, but whatever discomfort she felt was forgotten by the lust that coursed through her. Her mouth remained attached to his, as he held her there harshly, his mind already lost in his need for her.

Her dress was already bunched around her hips, exposing her to him. Without hesitation, he reached between them to stroke her lust higher. She gasped against his lips, but didn’t separate them from his. He didn’t stroke her lusts for long for the fires of passion were too great in him. Moments later, he was undoing his pants and then thrusting himself into her waiting heat hurriedly.

Elijah’s movements were not slow or gently, but brutal and merciless. His mouth released hers, moving down to nip at her neck, all while driving into her over and over again. She could do nothing, but cling to him as he unleashed his stress and anger and worry upon her body. It wasn’t long until she was falling apart.

“Elijah,” she gasped, her head falling back as her walls began to quickly flutter around him, signaling her approaching end. “Elijah!”

When she finally came, Eternity cried out urgently, practically screaming into the air. Her walls squeezed him so wonderfully, he couldn’t hold back his own end - not that he wanted to. He shouted his end, the feeling of it exquisitely powerful, shaking him to his very core. Slumping against her, he felt the aftershocks pulse through him as he came down from the spontaneous moment of passion.

Elijah felt incredibly relaxed in the aftermath, the troubles he faced faded away to the back of his mind. No longer did he feel the strain of stress. His mind was clear again, instead of remaining chaotic in darker emotions, as it had been because of Niklaus’s impromptu appearance. 

He kissed Eternity’s lips one last time, before removing himself from her. He quickly straightened his clothes until everything was back in perfect order. Then as they smiled and kissed each other lovingly, Elijah took Eternity by the hand and lead her back toward the house. Neither spoke, because there was nothing to say - only peace.

But for how long would it last?

To Be Continued....