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thegirlwholovesficcharacters · 2 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄 The originals x Org fem teen reader

Chap 1: ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

Summary: For as long as she could remember, fourteen-year-old maisie buckley used to have strange dreams, about people she had never met and scenarios that only she could believe would happen in movies or fantasy series, dreams that had faded with the passage of time. However, after suffering an accident, those dreams reappeared, leaving her to believe that they were a figment of her imagination due to post-traumatic stress disorder. But as time went by, Maisie began to realize that most of her “dreams” seemed to want to leave her a message or give her a sign about something, and although that seemed to be all, her situation seemed to get worse when she accidentally touched her classmate's hands, causing her to go into a trance and see blurry images. Confused and frightened by those recurring “dreams”, maisie finds herself trying to find answers about her strange dreams, until she arrives at the store of a voodoo witch, who seeing her desperation helps her search for some answer to her condition, her search resulted in a small town, New orleans. Without hesitation, maisie buckley leaves her life in boston behind, and upon arriving in new orleans finds more questions than answers to answer her questions, being rescued from a coven of witches along with a woman and becoming involved in a strange connection with those who claimed to be the originals, the first vampires created on earth. The mikaelson brothers.

Words: 2774 Warnings: Mention of blood, hand cuts, spells, mention of abandonment and an adoption (nothing dark or dangerous at the moment).

Autor's note: Hello, I'm back after a long time and with a new story. I recently rewatched one of my favorite series, The originals and with the passing of the chapters, I remembered that I had a fanfic about this series saved in one of my drafts on wattpad. I read it, rewrote it and thought, why not share it on tumblr?, and well, here I am with the first chapter of this series about the strange connection of a teenager of almost fifteen years old with my favorite family and the loves of my life, yes yes, I'm talking about Niklaus and elijah. Anyway, I'm going to base it from the first chapter of the first season of The originals. Although this chapter focuses a little more before the arrival of maisie to new orleans and what led her to go there.I apologize in advance with the spelling and grammatical errors that you will find during the reading, I usually use google translator to write in English, because well, my English is not so good, but hey, I'm still learning. Without further ado.

I hope you enjoy reading it!

PD: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!

There were many things that Maisie did not like in her short life. She did not like small spaces, heights, or strange, disturbing, or uncomfortable situations. Although she wouldn't have to feel uncomfortable since she had gone to that strange store on her own.

It was not normal to her to see stuffed animals on show. But it was even more disturbing to her that they seemed to be looking at her whole soul. "This is very uncomfortable", she thought. She had read and seen TV programmes about people using taxidermy to preserve an animal's body for scientific study, or people doing this with their own pets to feel they were still with them.

━━━Terrible━━━ she muttered. The child ignored the animals and continued to explore the shop. Until she came to a shelf full of crystal balls. A little curious, she carefully picked up one of the spheres. Fascinated, she watched the small flashes of light contrasting with the shop light on the crystal ball.

━━━Careful with that Crystal ball kid, it's very expensive━━━━━The young girl jumped, surprised and frightened when she heard the woman's resulting voice.

Feeling the loud pounding of her heart, Maisie turned her head to find a woman with dark skin, her hair covered in a silk fabric, and an outfit that reminded her of Marie Laveau from her favorite show, played by Angela Basset.

Taking a deep breath, she leaves the crystal ball on the shelf and speaks with a slight stutter.

━━━━I'm sorry, ma'am.━━━━She excused herself quietly as she watched the woman cautiously approach her.

━━━What is it that brings a little thing like you to such a strange place?. You seem very young to be here, my dear ━━she questioned with a lifted eyebrow, looking at her as if she wanted to analyze her.

When she saw his questioning look, Maisie gripped the string of her backpack nervously, trying to formulate the right words to say to her.

━━━I…emm. I read on your website that you are one of the best 'Tarot Readers' in the city, Miss. Aisha Boudreaux━━━━ The woman looked at her again as she heard her call her a 'Tarot Reader'.

She said to herself, "So she already knows"

━━━And-and I came to your shop because I need your help. Please. ━━━she replied shyly..

The woman named aisha looked at her for a few seconds. She watched as she nervously held the strap of her purse and stuttered as she spoke. Then she cautiously lifted her hand and lifted the young girl faces. Her eyes showed curiosity as she looked at the girl's face.

"Her aura, it's… strange. I've never seen this kind of aura on anyone other than… no, it can't be" thought the woman, feeling exalted for a moment "is it her…? No, it can't be, she's too…young" Trying to ignore her thoughts, Aisha spoke.

━━━I can see in your eyes that something is troubling you, little one. I can't tell you what it is, but I know for sure that you've come to the right place….━━━Her gaze softened, noticing the small teenager's frightened eyes, she took a step back and held out her hand━━━Come with me, Maisie Buckley, I know you have many things you want to resolve.━━━Watching the woman's outstretched hand, Maisie stood still for a few seconds, watching her own hands covered in old gloves, then looked back at her.

A million thoughts went through her head, she was unsure if she should trust the woman, but she had gone to her shop for a reason, and that was that she needed answers, one way or the other, and Mrs. Boudreaux seemed to be the right person for the job.

She hadn't been on the road for almost an hour and had searched the Internet to get to her store for nothing, and she desperately needed answers.

She shook her head, swallowed some saliva, and smiled a little as she took the woman's hand.

━━━I trust you…━━━Boudreaux nodded softly as she began to walk away from the lobby. Maisie followed her, hoping that Mrs. Boudreaux might be able to help her.

It was now or never.

It had been about twenty minutes, twenty minutes since Boudreaux had taken her to a secluded room in the shop, where the two of them sat at her tarot table, surrounded by animal and human skulls (Maisie hoped the skulls were completely fake), candles lit in every corner of the room, and a cup of hot tea in her hands, which were almost empty and lukewarm.

Maisie had taken the time to give her a brief explanation of what had happened to her over the past few months. She had also made a brief plea for his help with her situation.

Now, standing in front of the witch, she watched as Boudreaux carefully placed her own mug on the table, her face was neutral, but the young teenager knew deep down she was worried about her situation, deep inside. She couldn't read minds, but when she saw Aisha's restless eyes, Maise could tell that something was going on in her head, and she wanted to ask her what it was, but she didn't want to interrupt her thoughts.

"After years…. But she is too young, what did they want, how did they restore her visions?" With a small sigh, Boudreaux speak.

━━━I've heard several stories about situations like this.━━━━Maisie looked at her intently for a moment. Were there any other people out there with the same problem as she had?━━━Tell me, dear, have you ever heard of clairvoyants?━━━The teenage hesitated to answer.

Even if she could say yes, Maisie was sure she would only named Alice Cullen from Twilight and Ethan Morgan from My Nanny Is a Vampire or some other fictional character she knew with that kind of gift. And since she was sure she would answer that, and since Mrs. Boudreaux would reproach her, she decided to answer.

━━━Only in fictional series or movies━━━━━She replied quickly, smiling innocently, the woman rolled her eyes but nodded anyway.

━━━Well, I'll stick with you having an idea of what they are….━━━Maisie nodded, not wanting to interrupt her━━━….You have a gift, child. You are a kind of seer who can only see visions through touch, be they future or past━━━When she saw Maisie open her mouth, the woman raised her hand and silenced her immediately━━━ and before you speak, yes, I know about that show about a vampire nanny, which I find absurd but entertaining━━━he teenager smiled and nodded.

Al verla entender, la bruja asintió para si misma.

━━━Good. Before we continue━━━She moved her empty cup away from the centre of the table━━━I have to ask you, do you have any relatives who have been in this situation in the past? Or anything like that?━━━Maisie quickly denied with a small grimace.

Maisie knew she was adopted. Her parents always told the truth about how she came to be with them. They were worried that something would change in their family after she told them about the day she came to live with them. Maisie was never upset or angry, though. She was grateful and happy that they were her parents, even if they weren't her biological parents. She never talked about it with anyone, except her school friend Amy.

━━━N-no…━━━She cleared her throat a little before continuing.━━━ see, I…I'm adopted. And I doubt that my mother or father came from a line of visionaries and magically passed on that gift to me….She replied shortly, almost in a tone of sarcasm that made her eyes widen, astonished at her own audacity.

Boudreaux smiled, nodding his head in understanding.

━━━It's… understandable━━━she said, ignoring the girl's sarcastic tone━━━so we can assume that it could be from your biological family's side…━━━Masie stood still, feeling a slight discomfort at the mention of her biological family.

Seeing her reaction, the woman raised an eyebrow

━━━You've never tried to look for clues about them, have you?━━━Masie denied, pursing her lips.

━━━No. All I know, and all my parents have told me, is that I was left on their doorstep without a note or a clue.━ She spoke, vaguely remembering the story of how she'd arrived on that rainy spring day fifteen years ago.

Boudreaux nodded as she considered how to help her, not wanting to be too obvious about her situation, she had an idea of what was going on but wasn't sure it would happen. Until an idea flashed through her head, a spell.

━━━Well, since we don't have any names or clues, I guess I'll have to use another method. A tracking spell━ Maisie watched as the woman abruptly rose from her seat. Boudreaux approached a shelf and looked around for what she needed,until their gaze landed on a particular shelf.

━━━Well, I need a map…here it is, a dagger…this one's fine, and a necklace…━━━As she finished searching for her items, the witch approached the table, leaving the things on it and then looked at the girl━━━And I'm also going to need some of your blood, little one.━━━The teenager's eyes widened in surprise.

━━━My--what?'━━━ she asked in disbelief.

━━━Your blood, silly.━━━She said as she arranged her magical items and placed a small dagger in front of her━━━If you want to know the origin of your seer power, you must know how to ask the right people, and when I say the right people, I mean your biological family.

Maisie looked uncertainly at the dagger on the table, then at her own gloved hands, almost petrified and shocked at what she had to do to find the answer to her now Seer's gift.

If she really wanted to know more about the background of her power and put an end to her strange but not so strange dreams, she had to face her biological family, even if she didn't feel ready to.

━━━All right, I'll do it…━━━she agreed firmly. Boudreaux nodded. With shaking hands, Maisie took the small dagger from the table.

━━━You can use either hand. Cut your palm above the map. When I say stop, cover your hand with the gauze━━━She demanded, pointing to the small box of sterile gauze that had been set aside.

As she watched her get things in order, Maisie took off her left glove, left it on the table and waited for Boudreaux to tell her when to cut off the palm of her hand.

The woman looked at her and nodded.

Maisie complied and placed her hand on the map, shuddering at the sting of the dagger blade slicing through her palm as she watched drops of blood fall onto the parchment.

━━━That's enough, sweetheart━━━Listening to her, the girl put the bloody dagger down on the table with a clatter and used her other hand to cover her injured hand with some gauze to stop the bleeding.

It was only a few seconds before she was surprised to hear the witch whispering strange words, 'Must be Latin,' she thought. She watched as Aisha held the necklace in one hand and pointed directly to where the drops of blood were, a small gust of wind came out of nowhere and surprised her as she saw the fire of the burning candles moving restlessly.

But what surprised her most was seeing the drops of blood, her blood, coalesce into a stain, moving from one side to the other of the map.

Her curious green eyes watched the movement with attention and wonder, until the droplets formed a circle around a particular city.

Realising the spell was over, Mrs Boudreaux opened her eyes and looked at the small circle of blood, frowning.

"The images were blurry. They move back and forth. What's going on in New Orleans?" she wondered inwardly. She hadn't managed to see the faces of the girl's biological family, but she did see two of them moving very fast, as if they were looking for something or someone.

Maisie had heard about the city from her parents, who had always told her about their honeymoon in New Orleans and how they had loved touring the city, listening to the jazz music that filled the streets, tasting the delicious food and the stories of the creatures that lurked in the night.

━━━Your birth family, child. Looks like they're in New Orleans, little Buckley━━━she commented, looking away from the map as it met the girl's green eyes━━━You know, if you're thinking of going there, I'm warning you.

Maisie looks at her attentively.

━━━Beware of old witches, they may seem harmless, but believe me, they are the worst━━━Hearing his serious voice and look, Maisie nodded quickly━━━And don't trust Agnes either, she's a harpy and a psychopath.

Curious about the warning to these people, Maisie wanted to ask who they were, but one look from Boudreaux told her everything. They were dangerous.

━━━All right━━━she replied, putting her glove back on. When she was finished, the young girl fumbled in one of her pockets until she pulled out a few notes, raised her head and smiled, holding the money out to the woman.━━━Here, thank you for your help.

Boudreaux quickly rejected the offer and refused to take the money..

━━━Oh, no, darling. No need, I did it as a favour for a friend. Besides, you'll need the money for your trip.━━━ The teenager hesitated, but eventually agreed. Watching her arrange her bag, Boudreaux approached and held out the dagger.━━━And before you go, here. You'll need this. For protection━━━she said. She saw the small dagger, already clean, tucked away in a small leather pouch. Maisie took it carefully and nodded to herself.

━━━Thank you. Aisha━━━she said, and the woman smiled at her.

━━━You're welcome, Maisie. Good luck on your trip, and if you need any help, give me a call. You already have my number in your bag━━━Curious, Maisie reached into her bag and found the little piece of paper with her number on it.

━━━I will.━━━Before opening the door to the shop, the young girl gave the witch a final nod and said goodbye with a small smile.

As the door closed with the sound of the bell, Boudreaux had a sigh of relief.

━━━Diaval!━━━Shout. Suddenly there was a loud whimpering sound and the flapping of a bird as it approached.

Feeling the bird's pointed talons on his right shoulder, Boudreaux turned his head to find the raven's smooth black plumage and head looking straight ahead as it cawed.

Boudreaux walked up to the door and stepped out onto the veranda.

━━━Keep an eye on the girl and look after her if you can. There is something about her that is both attractive and powerful━━━Murmured.

The crow cawed again.

━━━Watch her from a distance and let me know if anything goes wrong. I made a promise to Cass and Evan: she must be safe from whatever comes━━━With a final caw, the raven lifted its wings and flew away from the house, following the young teenager from a distance.

The night after her meeting with Aisha Boudreaux, Maisie started packing: clothes, books, her mobile phone and a burner phone, as well as her savings and allowance from her tutor, her Aunt Callie. The next day, her aunt dropped her off at school and Maisie waited for her car to leave the car park to catch the next bus to the station. But before she left, there was something she had to do.

Standing on the grass with two small bouquets of flowers in her hands, the young woman looked around her. She noticed that trees surrounded her and that there were few people around. She looked down and wistfully read the names on the gravestones.

Beloved friends, children and parents, Cassandra Dianne Buckley and Steven Evans Buckley.

With a small sigh, she bent down and placed the bouquets on each headstone, removing the wilted flowers and leaving the new ones in their place. When she had finished, she straightened up again.

━━━I would have liked you both to come with me on this journey. I know they will be angry, wherever you guys are, and I know it will be a dangerous journey, but…━━━ She sigh, letting out a wry smile━━━I promise I will try to stay out of harm's way. If it doesn't get to me first, Aunt Callie will go mad, but I've left her a letter, as well as Amy. I think they'll both understand why I've decided to leave. I promise it won't be for long, I'll come back and leave them flowers like I do every Friday. I promise…━━━A small silence fell over the place.

With one last look at her parents' gravestones she smiled regretfully.

━━━I love you mom, i love you dad. I miss you both, a lot.━━━With these last words, Maisie walked slowly away from the cemetery.

Saying goodbye to her loved ones was always difficult for Maisie; she had said it before at the funeral, to her aunt and her friend, and again to her parents.

She didn't know how long her little adventure was going to take, but she was hoping to be back home soon.

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mrs-kmikaelson · 2 years ago

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05| The Tribrid

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x daughter!reader Summary: As you settle back into the Quarter, you juggle your personal and new professional life—but with the Mikaelsons, it was almost as if there was no difference between the two. Warnings: none Words: 5.6K

Masterlist | Part 6

a/n: i see this series getting long, guys; just letting you know. btw, i'm pretty much unoccupied, so u can expect new posts for this series and possibly other imagines like every 2-3 days. and tysm for all the support! anyway, i'll let you get to reading now.

I walked into the Abattoir with a façade of confidence. I was now completely sober, facing the repercussions of my drunken actions. It'd been about a week since my agreement with Elijah and he'd only just called me in to speak with him yesterday.

I was currently cursing my drunk self, but at least Marcel was now allowed back into the Quarter without any fuss. Of course, he wasn't allowed back into the slaughterhouse, but he did compel himself a nice little townhouse a few minutes of human-walking away from my place.

In New Orleans, it was always better to live in the Quarter than anywhere else. This was the heart of the city's supernatural happenings. You were both safest here and also at most danger. But I guess, if you had enemies, you wanted to be in the Quarter because, if you had a crew to roll with, then nobody would really try you.

That's how it used to be at one point in time, and that's what the factions were trying to achieve now.

I was immediately greeted after making it past the gates. "Y/N," Elijah said, walking towards me, hands held out. He wrapped an arm around me, walking me to the couches in the middle of the courtyard. I tried not to show any discomfort at the physical touch. "It's lovely to see you."

I chuckled a little. "Feeling's mutual," I replied, causing the nobleman to let out a little laugh himself. I sat down on one of the couches while he sat on the other. "So, what have we got today?"

He sighed, "The withes are unhappy because of- all due respect, Marcellus' actions."

Right. Marcel forbade anyone to do magic. While I understand his reasoning, trying to protect a little witch by the name of Davina Claire, it was cruel. To ask a witch to go without magic was like asking a human not to breathe; it was damn near impossible.

Even though I get what he was trying to do, I still didn't agree with it—but that didn't mean that I agreed with what the New Orleans witches were doing either.

"So I've heard. But I'm sure you're aware of why he did what he did." He was; otherwise, I wouldn't have brought it up. I wouldn't do anything to endanger Davina; she'd become like a family to me. I knew that the Mikaelsons knew all about Davina, the harvest, and whatnot.

"Yes, of course. To protect Davina, I understand. She is special, without a doubt." Elijah's voice with filled with nothing other than conviction; I'd expect nothing less when people were speaking about Davina.

I smiled thinking about her. "Yes, she is."

"However, it still hasn't done us any favours on a community-wide scale." Elijah ran a hand through his hair. "The witches' spokesperson, Genevieve, is just about furious with the treatment they've received." A look suddenly appeared on his face. "And considering the... interactions my family has had with her, I wouldn't want to anger her further, especially since Hayley is with child."

This was the first time my heart didn't stop at the mention of Klaus' unborn baby. Instead, I was too focused on the witch Elijah named: Genevieve. Now, this was a name Marcel had somehow neglected to inform me about, but I was well aware of who she was.

From my understanding, Rebekah Mikaelson killed her the same year the Mikaelsons fled New Orleans, sometime in the early 1900s. Marcel spilled the whole story to me one night when he was drunk.

Genevieve died. Yet, according to Elijah (and I know this is not a coincidence) she's alive leading the NOLA coven.

Great.

I responded after a beat, bringing my hands together. "Okayyy, so what are we doing?"

"Making the witches happy, love."

Now my heart stopped.

I turned my head to see Klaus just finishing walking down the stairs. "Elijah tells me you're our new... fixer." He shrugged, making his way to the minibar. "So fix it."

"Niklaus."

"Get a grip, Elijah. I don't think I'm offending the young woman," he said before turning to face me. "Am I offending you, love?"

I skipped the whole processing bit of this situation and dived straight into my persona. "Not at all."

Klaus made a gesture to me with his hand, turning back to his brother. "See, Elijah. Marcel's right hand has tough skin." Elijah responded with a much more exhausted sigh than before, rubbing his hand on his face. Klaus ignored this, turning back to me with a bottle of bourbon in his hand. "Want me to pour you a glass, Y/N?"

"It is ten o'clock in the morning, Niklaus."

"All the more reason," he quipped back. "Y/N?"

I tried to loosen up, but my smile probably came out a little more tense than I originally intended. "I'm good; thank you."

Klaus looked at me for a few seconds before shrugging and pouring his own glass. Elijah took this opportunity to continue, but not before letting out another sigh. "As I was saying before my brother so tersely interrupted us, Genevieve has agreed to meet with us after I told her that you—Marcel's right hand, as Niklaus put it—were going to be representing us."

I tried to focus all my attention on the task at hand instead of my absent father who kept looking over at me periodically. I remembered what this was like when I did it for Cellie; I just had to get back in the game. "So, if you are looking to make an agreement of some sort, what are you willing to negotiate—give up, even?"

Just as Elijah was about to answer, Klaus briskly cut him off. "Oh, that's all on you, love." I narrowed my eyes slightly and he elaborated. "You decide then and there what you think is fair." He shrugged again, and although he looked carefree, he also had a smug look on his face that I doubt he was even trying to hide. "Ball's in your court." This was a test.

I didn't ponder on that for too long, nodding to him. "I can do that."

Klaus nodded back. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a quick look from Elijah seemed to make him want to hold his tongue. Thank God.

While I seemed like I was coming a long way, just the mere idea of holding a conversation with this man was terrifying. There were so many things I was holding my tongue about. It was just lucky that I so happened to be 500 years old. A few, quick conversations with my dad who had no idea I was his illegitimate child would not break me. Maybe it fucked with my head, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle.

I'm here after all, aren't I?

Elijah cleared his throat. "Well, it seems to me that we've discussed everything we needed to discuss for today." He stood up and I followed suit. "Again, it was lovely seeing you, Y/N."

"Likewise." I shook the hand he held out, once again ignoring the weird original rush I felt. "I'll see myself out." Couldn't get out faster.

I walked toward the exit before Elijah could say something gentlemanly about escorting me out and before Klaus could say something that'd boggle my mind even further. I assumed he'd text me the details about the meeting later.

I took a deep breath immediately once I was far enough from the compound that I was sure they wouldn't hear me. I had no idea how I was going to get used to any of this, but it was too late to go back now.

In the meantime, I decided to take my mind off the Mikaelsons for a bit by visiting someone who I've yet to see.

I walked into the old church with caution. It wasn't like I had a problem with Kieran; I just felt awkward whenever I talked to him, so I'd rather avoid him. I've had enough awkward situations in these past few weeks to last me a lifetime.

To my luck, he was absent and so I just walked straight upstairs, dodging cobwebs as I went until I made it to the attic's ajar door. A girl sat on a stool in front of an easel, painting a landscape. She was so focused she didn't even notice me push the door the rest of the way open.

I smiled, leaning on the door as I looked around the room that'd changed since I last saw it, now more decorated and screaming it'd been touched by a teenage girl. "So Marcel's still got you holed up in here, huh?"

She instantly spun around with her jaw dropped. "Y/N?!" She ran toward me, engulfing me in a tight hug that I'm sure would've broken some bones if I was human.

I chuckled, "Hi, Davina. I've missed you, too."

She pulled back, looking over me with disbelief visible on her face. "Oh, my God- when did you get back?"

"A little while ago. I'm sorry I couldn't come see you sooner, but I've been absolutely swamped. I promise, though—going into the future, I'll make time to see you." Davina smiled, pulling me back in for another hug. Her happiness spread to me and I started smiling so hard that my cheeks hurt. I think this might be the first time I've been this happy since I got back to New Orleans.

Davina was an amazing kid. I was supposed to meet up with Marcel the night of the harvest when he saved her, and so I ended up meeting her a few months before I left. She just so happened to be one of the few people who know my secret. She was incredibly gifted and reminded me so much of my younger self. I felt like I owed it to her, to myself, to be there for her. In the short time I've known her, she's become something like a little sister to me, if not a daughter.

When we broke from the hug, we both ended up sitting on the bed. I let her catch me up on what's been happening, even though I already more or less knew it from Marcel's summaries. "Okay, so if the witches aren't trying to hunt you down anymore, why are you still hiding away in this attic?"

"Well, I'm not hiding away anymore," she replied. "Marcel just figured it'd be safer for me to stay here instead of with them. He still doesn't trust them and, honestly, neither do I. They've been acting kind of weird since the witches were resurrected, but I just deal with it and go there everyday to practice."

I hummed. I understood Marcel's reasoning; keeping Davina at the church was actually pretty smart. I wouldn't trust her with a bunch of vengeful witches, either, especially after they tried to kill her once. But this attic was far too small for a little girl to spend her days in.

I looked around the cluttered room, thinking before I said screw it and decided to propose my idea to Davina. "What if you didn't have to stay here?" I asked, looking back at her.

She furrowed her brows. "What do you mean? It's not like there's anywhere else I could go, besides with the witches."

"Not necessarily true." I sat up straighter. "I mean, my townhouse has three rooms, and only one of those rooms isn't empty." I shrugged, gesturing around the room. "It's bigger than this place, so all your stuff would fit."

She sat up too. "Wait, are you being serious?"

"Hell yeah, I am. And the protections on my place are a lot better than this church's, trust me."

"You want me to move in with you?"

"Yeah, Davina, that's what I've been sayi-" I was cut off when she threw her arms around me in the tightest hug she'd given me since I entered the attic, and that was saying something.

"Oh, my gosh! Yes, of course!"

I giggled at her enthusiasm, hugging her back before pulling away to pull my phone out of my back pocket. "Okay, I'll drop you off at the apartment now and I'll text some people to come pick up your stuff and bring it to you." I glanced back up at her for confirmation, looking back at my phone when she giddily nodded. "You can just make yourself at home and get settled in. I'll be home a bit later; I just have a business meeting first."

"Yeah, sure." Davina then stood up, looking around and clapping her hands. "I'll start packing!"

I laughed for what felt like the umpteenth time since I've seen her, standing up too. "Alright, D. I'll see you later," I said, but she was already far too engrossed in packing her things, giving me a distracted goodbye. I shook my head, the corners of my lips going up even higher as I left the room.

Thank God I wouldn't have to come back to this creepy ass church anymore. I really hadn't even thought of asking Davina move in with me; it was such a spur of the moment kind of thing, but I had no doubts then and no doubts now. She'd be safer with me than here, with the witches, or even Marcel.

At the though of my friend, I went to text him about this new development, coming across a message from Elijah along the way.

Elijah M. We'll be meeting the witches at 7:00 PM at the compound.

You OK, I'll be there.

I stuffed my phone back into my pocket after responding to Elijah and texting Marcel about Davina. Seven was two hours away, so I had time to go home and freshen up before the meeting.

I wasn't nervous; I'd already been here before, already done it all, but I did feel a weird pressure to do this well. Something in me said Klaus was counting on me to fail, so it was my job to prove him wrong.

I walked right into the compound later without standing out front for ten minutes like I did this morning. I was gonna have to get used to this all eventually and I'd prefer that'd happen sooner rather than later.

I was apparently earlier than everyone else because there wasn't a Mikaelson or red-haired witch in sight. I checked my watch: 6:30, it read. Earlier than I expected, but that was fine with me. I wiped the imaginary dust off my outfit: slacks and a tight white dress shirt that I'd unbuttoned just enough to not look like a female Elijah. Resemblance to the Mikaelsons was not what I needed right now.

I was just about to pull out my phone to keep myself busy when I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around, my eyes meeting the mother of Klaus' kid. "Oh, hi," she greeted, a surprised look on her face. "What are you- oh, right, Elijah told me you guys were meeting with the witches tonight."

"Yeah- it, uh, appears that I'm a bit early." I chuckled, making small talk even though I really didn't want to have any unnecessary conversations with anyone that lived in this building.

"No, it's a good quality. Elijah's like that," she told me. I nodded, ignoring my thoughts which were questioning her relationship with Elijah. Something told me it was a lot more complicated than it seemed. "I wanted to thank you, by the way."

My brows furrowed. "Hm? For what?"

"For covering me that day with Elijah- and for saving me from that vampire that day, too," she expressed with an almost bashful look on her face. "I realize I was pretty rude to you, but I was really just having a bad day, and-"

"And I'm a vampire, so you were just being careful." She let a small, embarrassed smile form on her lips which I reciprocated. "It's fine, I get it. I'd do the same if I were in your shoes."

"Thank you for understanding; I really appreciate it." I told her it was no problem, resisting the urge to be nosy and ask why she didn't wanna tell Elijah what happened; I didn't want to risk her growing suspicious of me.

Before Hayley and I could fall into an uncomfortable silence, Klaus and Elijah strolled in through the gates into the courtyard. Klaus' eyes narrowed between me and Hayley, probably in a protective manner, while Elijah greeted me.

"Y/N, sorry to have kept you waiting-"

"Oh, no, it was no biggie." I gestured to Hayley. "I had good company, anyways." Hayley smiled, excusing herself after wishing us luck with the witches, but I doubted I'd need it.

I was good and I knew it. Half a millennium alone in the world taught you how to negotiate, how to get your way when you had no one else on your side. Really, I was less worried about the witches and more worried about being in Klaus' presence.

Speak of the devil.

"The witches should arrive soon," Klaus announced, glancing down at his watch then up at me, a smirk arising on his face. "And then you'll be able to play your hand."

I stopped myself from narrowing my eyes or doing anything that showed I felt the shade he was so obviously throwing my way. Clearly, without even having really spoken to me, dear old dad has decided he doesn't like me, much less trust me. I don't know why that hurt because I don't even want to be talking to him period. I guess there's just a part of me that disagrees with that.

Like this morning, Klaus didn't waste a second before walking over to the bar. "Can I interest you in a drink whilst we wait, love?" He poured himself a glass. "Some... liquid courage, if you will."

He's being a jackass on purpose.

I declined, "No thanks." I shook my head. "I don't need it." And I also don't need to be under the influence around the Originals.

Klaus chuckled in an almost sardonic manner. Like the night I met him, he had a dark air around him that he barely cared to conceal. Klaus wanted people to notice that about him; he wanted people to be scared. And I was, but for entirely different reasons.

However, I'd sooner die before letting him know that. If he wanted to play hard ball, then I'd be the best damn batter he's ever seen.

Klaus turned around, tipping his glass to me. "You're quite confident."

"Well, I can back it up," I quipped back. In response, he sarcastically smiled, taking a sip of the brown liquid in his hand. From the corner of my eye, I saw Elijah glancing in between us watchfully.

"So I've heard- and you know, it got me thinking, what exactly is it about you that makes you so special?" This-

I was given time to pause by Elijah's interjection. "Niklaus."

He held his hands out in the air. "What, Elijah? I'm just curious," he reasoned.

I cut Elijah off before he could say something more in order to respond. "No, it's alright, Elijah; I understand the skepticism." I looked back to Klaus whose eyes just so imperceptibly narrowed. "The reason why people are more inclined to listen to me is because I don't operate with a desire to instill fear in others, just respect." I maintained eye contact with Klaus, hoping he was picking up what I was putting down. I knew he got the message when I saw his jaw clench.

He looked like he was going to say something else, but before he could, the gates to the compound opened. All three of us looked toward the entrance to see Genevieve and two other witches walking beside her, like a little entourage.

Elijah seemed to let out a sigh of relief at the intrusion. "Genevieve," he greeted, walking toward them. "Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. Please, take a seat. Can we interest you in any beverages?"

While Elijah was clearly doing his best to mediate, Klaus didn't say a word, only burning a hole into the side of Genevieve's head with a hard glare while he drank his scotch.

The three of them sat down on one couch as Elijah and I sat on the one parallel to it. "No, that'll be alright," she said, crossing her legs. "I know you appreciate verity, Elijah, so I'm gonna be honest: I wouldn't have agreed to this meeting if it weren't for the woman sitting next to you."

Elijah nodded. "Yes, I'm completely aware. Y/N is here to make sure that we both get what we want and to ensure that the future of the Quarter, and everyone in it, is prosperous."

I smiled, holding my hand out. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you. I've heard many good things about you." That was a lie.

Shaking my hand, she responded, "Likewise. The elders of the coven are practically smitten with you. I've never seen witches so eager to deal with a vampire."

"Well, I hope that, after our discussion, you will also be more eager to work with the Mikaelsons."

Genevieve almost scoffed at what I said. In my peripheral, I saw Klaus roll his eyes—at me or her, I'm unsure. "Please, Y/N—I'm sure you're aware of who exactly these people are and what they've done. Even though you're a vampire, you have to admit it's outrageous." Her voice was incredulous.

I really don't understand what she was making a big fuss about. From the way the story was told, Genevieve used to have a huge crush on Klaus back in the day—ew—but I wasn't gonna actually use that against her. I didn't want her to resent me; I actually needed her to like me for this to work.

"I understand where you're coming from," I told her, managing to muster up a sympathetic expression. "But we all want the same thing: peace. That is the final destination; there are so many stops along the way to get there, so if peace is where we truly want to be, then we need to be willing to put aside our differences."

The redhead sighed. "I hear what you're saying, but how can we expect peace while working with these people? How do you expect us to trust them?" Now, Klaus scoffed, causing both Genevieve and Elijah to look over at him, Elijah with a more stern look in his eyes. I, on the other hand, ignored him altogether, focusing completely on the witch in front of me.

I said her name to get her attention back onto me, thus causing Elijah to look away from his brother, too. "I am, in no way, asking you to trust blindly. We're willing to negotiate; just state your terms." I knew this was dangerous, giving her the opportunity to ask for whatever she wanted, but the witches had been recently oppressed; giving them the chance to ask for what they wanted was like an apology of sorts, one that I felt they'd appreciate.

Genevieve looked hesitant, glancing at both of her associates, to Elijah, Klaus, and then back to me. Even without looking at him, I could feel Klaus staring at me, probably questionably. None of them were expecting that move.

See, because I was representing the Mikaelsons, Genevieve expected me to state their terms first then negotiate since they were more powerful. So, of course she was surprised.

After a beat of silence, she finally spoke up. "We want to practice freely."

"Done."

"And we want to celebrate our festivals without a hassle."

"Of course."

"And we want to reclaim witch territory for ourselves and ourselves alone, like the Lafayette cemetery."

"Reasonable," I noted, waiting for her to say something else. When she didn't, I asked, "Is there anything else we can give you? You don't have to answer right now; we'll take some time then I'll get a contract drafted-"

"Esther Mikaelson's grimoire." At her interjection, the room went silent. I didn't even wanna know what Klaus looked like right now, but Genevieve sure as hell seemed to have regained her confidence. "We want Esther Mikaelson's grimoire." That was one ballsy request.

"Are you out of your mind?" For the first time since the witches walked into the compound, Klaus spoke. I looked over at him to see a look of shock adorning his face as if the redhead just tried to kill him—and, I mean, was he that far off?

You don't ask for the Original Witch's spell book without wanting to kill or at least having the ability to kill if you so need it.

Elijah seemed to recover from a shock of his own, trying to calm his brother down. "Niklaus-"

"I am not giving you my mother's grimoire." Klaus had set his drink down, walking toward where we were all sitting. Smoke might as well have been coming out of his ears. I knew that, if I were one of the three witches sitting across from me, I'd be shitting myself. "After what you tried to do to my family, you expect me to hand over-"

"Niklaus." Elijah cut him off, but more firmly and this time Klaus actually listened, turning to look over at Elijah with hard eyes. His eyes flickered to me for a split second before looking back at Genevieve—or glaring, rather.

While Genevieve looked slightly startled, I saw the dead-set expression on her face. It'd be hard to try and convince her that Esther's grimoire wasn't what the witches wanted, but it was possible.

Gears turned in my head as I thought it over until a quick idea popped into my head. At that moment, I began, "I'm sorry, Genevieve. We can do everything else you mentioned, put it in writing, but Esther Mikaelson's grimoire is a no-go." I saw her shaking her head before I even finished.

"Then no deal-"

Elijah cut in, "Genevieve, please-"

"I can give you the next best thing." I caught Genevieve's attention easily, along with everyone else's in the room. In seconds, I had come up with a quick fix; it was a gamble, but if you aren't willing to go big, then go the fuck home. "I currently have a Bennett grimoire in my possession." I paused, gauging her reaction. Clearly, this night was full of surprises.

I suppressed the urge to glance over at my relatives; I had a feeling that I already knew what their faces looked like.

Genevieve struggled to compose herself, so I continued, "It's yours, so long as you accept." I understood what was happening here: the witches or the spirits or whatever were already decided, and they wanted the Mikaelson grimoire, but how could they be upset with what I was offering? A Bennett spell book was a damn good replacement if I ever saw one, and if anyone knew that, it was Esther's children themselves.

I knew the history—I've spent my life learning it. Ayana taught Esther everything she knew; the Bennett bloodline was one of the strongest, maybe even stronger than the Mikaelsons. And although I doubt Genevieve knew the lengthy Bennett history, she quickly got her bearings and responded, "I- we accept-"

I cut her off, smiling, "Great. Now our turn." I clasped my hands together. "You guys can keep your sanctuaries, the cemetery and whatnot, but in shared areas like the rest of the Quarter, we ask that you remain peaceful and avoid altercations with other factions. We're asking the same of the other factions, as well. Similarly, the Mikaelsons don't want conflicts, so we'd also like to avoid altercations in that area."

It seemed pretty simple because it was. It was like what Elijah said to me that night in Rousseau's: everybody wants power, and the witches were no different. They didn't agree to this meeting for peace; they agreed because they wanted power, and the Mikaelsons struck this deal for the same exact reason, even if that's not how the nobleman would've phrased it.

While I didn't provide the witches with the same prepared list of terms, what I was asking for would have the same effect. The Originals were already on top, so what more did they really need to ask for?

Genevieve, once again, looked over at the two girls sitting next to her who both nodded at the silent question she was asking. When she turned back to me, the smallest of smiles was on her lips. "You have yourself a deal."

I reciprocated her expression as we both stood up. I shook her hand. "Pleasure doing business with you. I'll work on getting that contract drafted in more detail, so please, come to us with any other requests you may have."

Genevieve nodded, letting go of my hand, and Elijah took the pleasantries from there, walking them out of the compound. This left Klaus and I alone momentarily.

I looked over at him to see that he was already staring at me. I felt a chill go down my spine from how intently he was looking at me, my mini adrenaline rush dying down. It looked almost like he was picking me apart with his gaze.

I didn't want him to think I had something to hide, so I held his stare. We were both silent until Elijah walked back. This time, he didn't seem to sense the tension in the room—that, or he just chose to ignore it.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said. I looked away from Klaus to smile in response, but the second I did, he broke his vow of silence.

"How do you have a Bennett grimoire in your possession?" Klaus' voice was cold and accusatory, just as his eyes were. Elijah just might have frozen had he not been a thousand-years-old; hell, I probably would have, too, but I'd already been crafting an explanation as soon as the idea popped into my head.

Not the real explanation, but one that made more sense.

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I met one a few hundred years ago. She died after she was in the wrong place, wrong time, but she left that book to me."

Klaus didn't look sold. "A Bennett witch left her grimoire with you, a vampire? Not with her family?"

"Well, to be fair, she wasn't in touch with her family at that time," I retorted. "And I was human at the time so, yes, she left it to me because she knew it could come of use one day."

Klaus didn't reply to me, instead choosing to continue staring me down. However, his glare was now lessened, so I knew he sort of believed me, even though he had doubts.

In the time that Klaus wasn't saying anything, Elijah cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to him. When I looked over, he smiled and tried to further de-escalate the situation. "Thank you, again, Y/N."

That was my cue to leave. "No problem. Are you okay with meeting up tomorrow to discuss the contract?"

He nodded. "Of course. Lunch?"

"Sounds great," I said, grabbing my bag that I'd left on the armchair next to me. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Elijah bid me farewell while Klaus remained mute, but I still felt him staring at me, even as I was walking out; only when I'd walked two minutes away from the compound did I finally let go of that feeling

I didn't speed all the way home this time like I had been doing recently after exiting the Abattoir. Instead, I decided to take this time to think since I really haven't gotten a moment alone all day.

The excuse I gave Klaus wasn't too far from the truth—I only warped it slightly. I didn't know who he knew or how well he knew my mother before he slept with her, but I knew that if I gave him the real story, there was a possibility that he'd find out who I was.

The real story was that my mother was best friends with a Bennett. Almost like history repeating itself if you thought about it; Amelia Bennett was to my family what Ayana was to the Mikaelsons. She was both a mentor to my mother and me.

In reality, we were a lot closer than I made it sound. She was a lot closer to my mother than she was with the rest of her family. We were in Salem; the witch trials were just beginning, so any witch in the area was either preparing to leave or to die. She was anticipating the latter, so before she died, she made sure to leave the assets she had to my mother.

The other Bennetts didn't dispute this, fleeing west. The rest of the story, I try not to think about. I needed to be strong, for Davina, for Marcel, for Amelia, for my mother, and for myself; otherwise, everything I've sacrificed would've been for nothing.

With that thought, I had a new resolution.

This, what I was doing here in New Orleans, could not fail. I have not lived the life I've lived just to fail. So from this moment forward, I decided to be better, to be stronger. No more quivering at the mention of my father or his baby, no more getting shaken up by conversations with the Mikaelsons.

Walking toward my apartment, I made myself a promise.

This city will not break me, no matter what.